The Lion, the Witch and the What What!

We made it to a new decade!  1950!  24 years down, 56 to go!

And now we have made it to C.S. Lewis's classic The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (without the Oxford comma!).  This is the first children's work in the bunch, and I think it is the only one, and its presence in this list gives us a little insight into what puts a novel into the top 100.  For my taste, any of Roald Dahl's works is better written, more entertaining, and more riveting than this book, but none of Dahl's novels made the cut.  This could just be a matter of taste, but I suspect it has to do with the classic standing of Lewis's piece.  I touched upon this angle to Time's selection of novels when discussing Hammett's Red Harvest.  The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is a watershed novel, a standard against which every other children's story of adventure is measured.  The book is such a part of our cultural language and thought that it practically demands placement in the list.

I don't have much to say beyond that observation because a ton of type has already been spent on this book that I couldn't possibly say anything new.  Surprisingly, this is the first time I have read the book (I wasn't much of a reader as a kid--I saw the cartoon that aired on TV).  And I was surprised by how I wasn't in love with it as I read it.  There were some fantastic passages and perfect descriptions.  The entire scene in which Aslan sacrifices himself was powerful, the best scene in the book.  The description of the statues coming back to life like a flame taking to newspaper ("stone folds rippled into living hair"!), was perfectly evocative.  But a couple things left me scratching my head.  Father Christmas?  Really?  A ton of fairy tales have that moment when the hero is given a gift that will turn the tide down the way, so Lewis is in a fine tradition here, but Santa Clause?  And while I loved the phrase "always winter and never Christmas," I can't endorse the appearance of Santa.  And why was Susan given a bow if she never makes use of it.  The horn is a fine gift and gets a blow, but Susan definitely got shafted in the gift-giving department (and in the plot department over all, I say).

And that ending?  Really?  The kids grow to adulthood in the kingdom as kings and queens, not missing their mother or any other family.  Okay, I guess I could see that; they have each other after all.  But then they tumble through the wardrobe and find themselves kids again?  Who wants to go from being twenty-something and independent to a teenager?  From a king to an 8th grade kid?  Count me out!