YAY IT'S FINALLY TIME!!
...
Sorry. Crazy fangirl moment over.
It's finally time for The Horse and His Boy, my favorite Narnian Chronicle! Having a "mercurial" personality (in a very medieval sense), I enjoy this book in so many ways. For one thing, it has so many amazing characters that I'll have to employ a whole 'nother blog post to explore them. For another, the setting and plot are unique among the books, with tight pacing and sly humor. Rereading this book in the aspect of Mercury has been a tremendously meaningful experience, and a lot of fun as well. Thus, I will respond to this blog post from Mari Ness on Tor.com with what may be an overabundance of glee. Be forewarned. And read the original post first, because I will respond without repeating it.
Before we get into things, let's spend a little time thinking about Mercury: the planet, the element, and the mythological deity. The element, also known as "quicksilver" ("quick" in the older sense meaning "alive"), gives perhaps the clearest definition to Mercury's nature and the aspect that we see the most in the book. If you were to roll a bit of mercury around in a dish (which I think you're not allowed to do now we know it's poisonous), you would notice a very strange phenomenon: the droplets. When disturbed, quicksilver scatters into tiny little spheres that roll around wildly until they bump into each other, at which point they merge again, eventually unifying back into the smooth surface you started with. This behavior of quicksilver was a favorite metaphor of Lewis' (see Michael Ward, Planet Narnia), who used it in literary criticism, poetry, and fictional descriptions. But in HHB, he did something even cooler: he dramatized it throughout the story as characters are united and separated and united again. Bree and Shasta get together, then later meet Aravis and Hwin. The group is separated in Tashbaan, only to be reunited on the other side, and then Shasta splits off from the others at the Hermit's house, later returning after his reunion with his true father and brother. In the end, the Horses and humans go their separate ways to Narnia and Archenland, but the very last line of the book indicates that they would keep getting back together for many years in the future.
Mercury the planet supposedly presided over two (that I know of) constellations in the zodiac: Gemini and Virgo. Gemini provides Lewis with another constant imagery for his story: twins or pairs. It even starts with the dedication, which is to a pair of brothers. Shasta and Corin are, of course, the main pair of twins in the story, and clearly based on Castor and Pollux (the former being a horse-tamer and the latter a boxer). The imagery continues with the horses galloping neck and neck, the slaves on either side of the Tisroc's couch, Mount Pire with its double point, and the two kings shaking hands across the battering-ram at Anvard, just to name a few. Virgo, as a footnote in Ward's book points out, may be responsible for the two subplots of virgins escaping forced marriage. They are certainly very different, and the contrast is almost certainly deliberate, but I will say more about that later.
Mercury the myth seems to have ruled over many things. He was the god of language, of crossroads, of speed, and of theft. Language is the concept that Michael Ward takes under consideration in his Mercury chapter of Planet Narnia, which is well worth reading. Mercury's rule of the spoken and written word includes elevated style (Aravis' storytelling), pithy wit ("Does it ever get caught on a hook halfway?"), puns, double meanings (there's that twin picture again!), and symbolism. All other aspects of Mercury's character, I believe, can be summarized under one concept: Mercury is the god of change. Crossroads mean a change of direction. Speed, a change of location. Theft, a change in ownership, or at least possession. In my next post about the characters of HHB, one main focus will be on how they respond to change. And now, to the response.
First, about coincidences: The Hermit of the Southern March tells Aravis that in his long life he's never met such a thing as Luck, and Lewis clearly agrees. Even in this world, he was convinced that everything was working out according to a divine plan. His works on the efficacy of prayer and the problem of pain, just for a few examples, are adamant that God is to be conceived of as being in control of every little circumstance. As Cor later notes of Aslan, "He seems to be at the back of all the stories."
Then to deal with Calormen. I congratulate Ms. Ness on recognizing the influence of the Ottoman Empire on Lewis' portrayal. One must remember, Lewis was not a man of his time; he was a man of medieval times, especially when writing the Narnia books, which take place in a medieval-type world and are ordered by a medieval cosmology. And in medieval times, the Ottoman Empire was much, much bigger than the little island nation of England. Thus, the depiction of the Calormene Tisroc as a powerful tyrant who dreams of "swallowing up" the little countries of Archenland and Narnia. But more to the point, Lewis is not using Calormen (at least, not in this book) to comment on Islam. They're clearly polytheists, as Aravis demonstrates by swearing in the names of multiple gods and preparing sacred rites for the goddess Zardeenah. What he is doing with it is highlighting the evils of empire. Most of the character flaws in the Calormenes--greed, tyranny, entitlement, servility, corruption, and so on--are things we see in every bloated empire, from the Babylonian to the British to the Galactic. Most of all, the characteristic of Calormen is anti-Mercurial. Their habits of language are cumbersome and verging on the meaningless, as demonstrated in Ahoshta's constant quoting of the "poets" who used ten-dollar words at every opportunity. Their resistance to change (Mercury's nature) is even more pronounced. Things in Calormen are the way they are, and no one except Aravis questions them. In fact, they go so far as to denounce the ways of the Northerners as "barbaric", childish, and demonic. Sound familiar? How long ago was it that we in America were calling people "savages" and treating them like children or idiots?
The anti-Mercurial nature of Calormen can be summed up nicely in their catchphrase: "The Tisroc (may he live for ever)." Bree points out how silly this is in the first chapter: "I don't want him to live for ever, and I know that he's not going to live for ever whether I want him to or not." Even the people who say it know that it's not true. They refer to the year the present Tisroc began his reign, which would have to be when the previous one died. (Also, incidentally, the same year LWW took place.) The Tisroc himself notes that several before him have been killed before their time by impatient princes like Rabadash, and when Rabadash eventually takes the throne, he won't let his generals go out and win glory in battle because that's the way Tisrocs get overthrown. One wonders how many Tisrocs died while their subjects muttered "may he live for ever". And yet, one can see how such a practice might have started and been encouraged. Strict anti-treason laws might have prohibited talking about the Tisroc's eventual death, or even thinking about it. This might have grown into a command to wish for his eternal life. And when you repeat something often enough, you start to internalize it and believe it. The saying keeps the Tisroc's people content with the status quo. Even if they're sensible enough to realize the present Tisroc won't live forever, at least there will always be a Tisroc. There will always be a Grand Vizier, Tarkaans and Tarkheenas, soldiers and sellers and slaves, and the whole structure of their society. For isn't it the most enlightened and civilized way of doing things? Of course it is. Because everyone else is a barbarian.
On the subject of Aravis, I agree: she is awesome. And I will talk about her awesomeness in depth in the next post on character contrasts. Only a couple of notes here: First, her physical punishment by Aslan is one of the ways she's brought out of the mentality of imperial Calormen. There, people (especially lower-class people) are seen as tools to be used for one's own pleasure or advancement. (Again, sound familiar?) Aravis even refers to the servant as a "tool" of her stepmother's. Aslan makes it clear that such an attitude is not acceptable in his realm. People feel pain, no matter who they are. Second, her eventual marriage can be seen as another statement of the coupling theme that runs throughout the book. Even the separation-and-unity of quicksilver is featured in the humorous way they get together, by "quarrelling and making it up again" over and over.
Susan, on the other hand, is the exception to the Northern Mercurial character. At council, she breaks down in tears instead of saying anything useful, and as Ms. Ness points out, she can't see beyond appearances. She and Aravis are apparently meant as opposites, with Lasaraleen providing a foil for Aravis in a more present way. Again, I will go much more in depth on all of them later.
"Bad luck" as part of a divine plan: see above, under coincidences. Also, which would you rather believe about your own suffering: that it's random and meaningless, meant by no one for no purpose; or that it's intended by an all-knowing deity for the good of many, including yourself? If you truly believe suffering is easier to endure with no meaning or purpose to it, then I don't understand where you are coming from.
One more note: Mari Ness expresses confusion that the characters are so excited about finding freedom in Narnia when "both Narnia and Archenland are monarchies believing in the divine right of kings." Firstly, as some of the commenters on her post pointed out, monarchy and freedom are not mutually exclusive. Secondly, given King Lune's comment on how "the king's under the law", Archenland might well be seen as a constitutional monarchy. And finally, the philosophy of kingship espoused by King Lune (which he presumably got from his ancestor Frank, who got it from Aslan) is one that puts severe limitations on the king's power and how it may be used. In Narnia and Archenland, kingship is not just a divine right, but a divine responsibility; a duty, like a sentry at his post. Their job is to take on hardship and danger so their subjects don't have to. Power is to be used for the sake of the powerless. This is why the Northern countries don't have forced marriage (as Hwin tells Aravis), slavery, or "dangerous" princes like Rabadash. Again, I will be coming back to all of this in my next post.
With that said, let's get to it, eh? ;)
