Tag Archives: The Silver Chair

Lessons From Puddleglum and Wulfstan

In C.S. Lewis’ Narnia tale, The Silver Chair, one of the characters, Puddleglum, along with two children, are trapped underground by a wicked witch. She tells them that the good things in the world above, the world of the children’s protector Aslan, are all made up fantasies. Puddleglum, as pessimistic as his name implies, nevertheless leads the children to victory over the witch and her contention that the good things the children believe in are only made up.

Puddleglum answers the wicked witch: “Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things–trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones.”

Times of crisis and danger require real life Puddleglums to lead us. Such a time happened in the British Isles around 1014 A.D. In “The Sermon of the Wolf,” (Plough, Summer 2022), Eleanor Parker tells of the English Anglo-Saxons when they were being overwhelmed by the Vikings. Christianity had reached England by that time, and the archbishop of York, Wulfstan, gave a sermon. For him and those around him, it may very well have seemed the end of the world. He did not pretend that the Vikings might not conquer. His aim in the sermon, however, was to call for personal integrity and repentance.

Indeed, the Vikings did conquer. However, Wulfstan continued to work with them also, seeking reconciliation and just laws. Parker writes: “. . . the laws they made formed the basis for many later codes, ties that still sought to hold English society together centuries after Wulfstan was dead.”

Perilous times are nothing new. Bad things will happen. We can choose to give up or perhaps lose ourselves in frivolous pursuits.

Or, as Parker says in telling us of Wulfstan: “Whatever the darkness of the times we live in, some good can yet be done by every turn toward the truth.”

Comfort for a Pessimist

When I was thirteen, my father died. He had suffered a coronary attack days earlier and was rushed to the hospital. He recovered, so it seemed. I last saw him in the hospital on a Wednesday, two days before he was due to return home.

On Friday, the day we looked forward to his return, a woman showed up in the back of my school classroom. I saw her talking to my teacher. Probably they looked my way. I knew why she was there. I knew my father had died. She came and gave me the news and took me home to my grieving mother and the many friends of my family.

That’s the day I realized how suddenly good can turn to bad. It’s the time I began accepting good times as always temporary. It’s why I wait for that knock on the door or that phone call or that visit by a policeman.

Nobody enjoys a pessimist, so I try to blunt my tendency to melancholy. After all, I have close friends. I have enjoyed more blessings than I have a right to expect. I take pleasure in friends and books and hiking and travel and a thousand other pursuits.

Still, I accept my tendency to pessimism. No reason to stress over it. We pessimists have our place.

The character of Puddleglum, from C.S. Lewis’ The Silver Chair offers solace. Puddleglum, as his name indicated, was a born pessimist. It certainly made him a less than ideal companion during good times. On the other hand, Puddleglum was an ideal companion when bad times came. Unsurprised, he offered stoical help.

Perhaps there’s a place for us pessimists.