The Sea Spicer

The Sea Spicer
Yours truly

Monday, August 26, 2024

Guilty Pleasures: Watching Evil; Reading Magic


 

“Artists are tricky fellows, sir, forever reshaping the world according to some design of their own,” said Strange. “Indeed they are not unlike magicians in that.”


    --Susanna Clarke, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell


Evil; Truthseekers; Bodkin;

and Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, the Book is Better

frog at night


Why to Watch My Show: Evil



My guilty pleasure is watching the series Evil.


Even friends whose tastes usually differ from mine, watch this religiously.  The whole series has just concluded and all episodes are available to watch. The series is from Robert and Michelle King, who also made The Good Wife, (I haven’t seen it).


I originally watched a few episodes privately, just in the background while I was doing some household chore. That’s when I try out silly shows my family would not appreciate, I just put them on for company. Then this one left the platform I was watching on, or we canceled that streaming option, and I didn’t see it again.


When I found it again I shared it with my family during prime time viewing, and  it became My Show. My grandmother had “her serial”; remember when women would have a soap they preferred and would put it on for company while ironing or something? Evil is “my show”. My comfort viewing. 

My multi-generational adult family enjoys Evil with me.

I describe it as cozy paranormal. Cozy exorcism. It reminds me of X Files, probably for the chemistry, and the almost-humorous plots. Other reviewers have likewise referenced the X Files comparison.

We love it because it is ridiculous. The demons are mostly, of course, ridiculous. The evil antagonists are very, very funny. We almost always chuckle out loud, in every episode. All of the actors are perfect individually, and in their chemistry together. The nods and winks of tropes for the audience, in contrast with the deadpan earnestness of the characters, tickle me to death.

Three “assessors” work for the Church investigating various alleged supernatural phenomena, most often to rule out demonic activity.

The Assessors

The team includes two nonbelievers: a petite cute-sexy forensic psychologist, Kristen, and a snarky yet gentle tech scientist, Ben. They partner with David, a smoldering-sexy and sincere priest. 

Kristen and family:

Kristen’s husband is usually away running a mountain climbing expedition, and he dabbles in Eastern spiritual practices. She herself was raised Catholic but has firmly rejected faith.

Their four entertaining daughters all always talk simultaneously in a wonderfully chaotic babble, and for some reason attend Catholic school, I suppose because they live in New York where it’s a common private school choice for educational reasons.

I love the Catholic church-adjacent context of the series, the context of so many Americans who left the church but have some fondness for and aggravation with its markers. 

Kristen’s mother Sheryl becomes a significant, addictive character, sucked into performing something as a double agent between her role as grandma to Kristen’s kids, and a girlfriend/employee to demons and participant in truly evil practices.

Ben:

Ben, the tech expert, has rejected his family’s Muslim faith. His sister remains devout even while she is a talented scientist, whom he often consults for her superior skills. 

David:

David as a novice to the priesthood is fighting to maintain his own faith, among cynical priests and institutional church hierarchy, and the affectionate ridicule of his science-worshiping friends.

A compelling theme is how the three friends accept and love each other even with such core disagreements.

David’s quarters are eventually inhabited by the temptation of a demon in Kristen’s form, exaggeratedly seductive. Kristen faces her own temptations, mutual and otherwise.

So many entertaining characters:

Leland is a wonderfully funny, dorky yet cunning demon in human form. 

Dr. Kurt Boggs, a psychiatrist therapist,  is such a well-intentioned good man that I root for him even when he succumbs to temptation in practicing dark arts; he just seems so inherently of good will, an innocent.

Sister Andrea portrays the no-nonsense nun heroine, the most gifted vanquisher of evil, condemned by the banal male church hierarchy to clean and launder, keep quiet and get out of the way. 

I might have picked Sister Andrea as my favorite character, but I can’t pick just one, they are all my favorites! This is my show! 


Action!

Hilariously, Sister Andrea, Kristen and Sheryl, each individually, often confront and sometimes outwit the cabals of corporate or church chauvinism.

The episodes each address a “chapter” of a pop-up book about evil, the kind of “guilty pleasure” kids might like to scare themselves with. Often the supernatural event assessed begins with the daughters’ schoolyard games and legends or internet memes.

Each situation revolves around a fear, like night terrors, dolls, elevators, cops, fire, the IRS, UFOs, sex, parenting, silence, death. 

Warning: the material gets a bit spicier with progressive seasons. The first season is pretty tame, with a demon that’s just a little scary; a family with kids could manage it. It’s a grown-up show in subsequent seasons, not as sexually graphic as most streaming shows but some episodes have darker contexts. The scary monsters don’t get worse, those are usually just funny. 

A conspiracy plot involving, among other evils, a potential Antichrist baby, plays out over the subsequent seasons.

Who can resist layers of Vatican secret armies, or the mob-like 66 "families" ? Best of all every episode pairs our phobias with some real or almost-real science or human cultural phenomenon. 

I join the Evil legions who are sad it's over, for now. 

church


Truthseekers, a short paranormal series


This streaming series earned our delighted chuckles over its portrayal of some current cultural phenomena. I know these people!


The big guy in his watch cap, beard and shorts, holds a tech day job involving installation and troubleshooting for WiFi customers of some cable company. His sidegig is paranormal investigator, with detection gear of his own invention, and his own podcast channel.


The online cosplay makeup influencer is an obsessive fan convention devotee. She meticulously creates prize-winning costumes in which to attend an annual con. Though she bravely attempts every year, she phobically fails to muster appearing in person.


The cranky, aging father-in-law, a target of jokes for his comedic senior habits, stubbornly advances his own demise by embracing a fraudster.


A movie fan’s inside joke: Malcolm McDowell plays this aging parent, and the ultimate conflict in the conspiracy plot incorporates nods to his role in A Clockwork Orange.


Bodkin


Bodkin is billed as a comedy and a mystery. True crime podcasters and a transplanted native Irish journalist head to Ireland to investigate a years old cold case disappearance from a Samhain festival, the Celtic foundation for Halloween. Isn’t that enough to make you watch? 

[Note: If it matters to you, there is a gratuitous sexual encounter. We fast-forwarded past it. Usually I just turn it off, but I was committed enough to the series to watch the rest!]

library magic


The Book is Better: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell



It is 19th century England. "Magic” is now a distant chapter within England’s glorious history. Current “magicians” are academics, the men who study the history.


However, a very few are discovered, hidden away in a remote country house, or unbeknown even to themselves, or disguised amongst the common charlatans who perform tricks, who do have the ability to practice the old magic. 


The government enlists one such magician, Mr Norrell, and an ambitious upstart studying with him, Jonathan Strange, to aid them in prosecuting the Napoleonic war.

In support of his own ambition, Norrell aids an important personage whose new wife is gravely ill. He summons, with distaste, a malicious fairy king to resurrect Lady Pole from death. 

As I watched a few episodes on TV, the fairy and his realm seemed too dark and frightening to me, with the intensity of a serial killer, though he had a great look.

The fairy is known as a “gentleman with thistle-down hair”. He wears an odd green. He does awful things to furnish his parties and parades with humans he finds charming.

I didn’t continue the streaming series, too dread-inducing! I was frightened when the bells would ring to announce the intrusion of the fairy. However, the characters were so interesting that I decided to try reading the book, and I love it! 


In Susanna Clarke's book, even though the effect of the fairy’s magic is so unsettling and the source of much despair, the fairy himself comes across less as having “evil” intent, and more as a selfish, unrestrained innocent, narcissistic the way I imagine fairies, and as they are commonly portrayed in literature.


For readers who avoid fantasy, or for readers who crave fantasy, this book wasn't really what you may expect. I read it as more literary, more allegory, more like, Pilgrim's Progress or Canterbury Tales? Like these, some chapters read like a digression wherein someone tells a story within the story.


As a reader and writer, I especially loved these themes and devices of the book:


  • In a Jane Austenesque or Dickensian way, there are so many funny social observations, memeable quotes, by the narrator, or mouthed by characters oblivious to the sense we are making of their words.


  • The women in the story are the intelligent, practical ones. They are the source of Strange’s ambition, and the objects of the fairy’s desire for them as playthings and ornaments. They are victims of magic. They strike me as captive muses for the men.


  • The magicians are like mad scientists of our own time, inventing means of using awesome powers in nature to alter the natural world and human relations.


  • I took the contrast between the academic magicians and the practicing magicians to be a commentary on critics vs. creators. 


  • I similarly read the contrast between Norrell and Strange as commentary on talent vs. training and effort, or maybe between gatekeepers and artists in the wild:

    • Mr Norrell assiduously studies his craft for ages;
    • he scoops up every book on magic for his own personal library and to prevent other’s access, to maintain his status as hierophant;
    • and limits his work to historic rules made by prior masters.
    • Jonathan Strange happens upon his natural gifts when casting about for something to do as a profession at his wife’s urging,
    • and his inherent talent makes him a greater magician.


  • Stephen Black, a servant, learns of his past as the nameless son of an enslaved woman. Will he vanquish the thistle-haired gentleman to become a new kind of king, who serves his subjects rather than his own whims? 

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is a magical work, and the book is better, (though I read that the author was on set in the making of the series). I look forward to reading the author’s second book, Piranesi, said to be very different from this one, and published in 2021. I understand the decades between debut and second novel are due to the author’s illness.


If you read it, do you agree with my understanding?


“It is the task of the Book to bear the words. Which I do. It is the task of the Reader to know what they say.”


Clarke, Susanna. Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (p. 836). Bloomsbury Publishing: 2004. Kindle Edition. 



Thursday, August 22, 2024

The Water; and, In Ascension by Martin MacInnes

 The Water

Tell me. Is it just me? What is your relationship with Ocean? Is it memory, or inheritance?

A New Jersey beach under a full moon

A friend said, “I just love the sea, I just feel the need to be by the sea.” I react with surprise because, don’t we all? 


Another says of a mutuaL relation, “Well, she just loves the shore, so of course she should get to live there.” Doesn’t everyone? Isn’t that why coastline real estate with an ocean view is unattainable except by the wealthiest?


I rarely speak of my own longing because I have always assumed an intense relationship with the sea is inherent in being human, and that even the landlocked would feel the pull if they ever approached, saw it, smelled it. 


My friend who prefers seaside vacations suggests it is our happy memories of fun times with family when we vacationed at the shore growing up.


I don’t know, I don’t believe my feeling for the ocean is merely a matter of taste. For those who experience feeling an ocean connection, (don’t we all?), then I surmise it is a very deep history in us, archetypal. A friend at the pool talks about her love for the water, and says it’s genetic; her father was in the Navy. I see in her perhaps the Irish, and the Vikings, so I wonder if it goes back even further. My own ancestors crossed the Atlantic, all from places of Eastern European mountains, forests, farms--and all with beachy coastlines--the Adriatic, Baltic, Black Seas.


It’s not just wading as a child or building sand castles, or the fondness for long days outdoors with parents and siblings, meeting new playmates on the beach, splashing, sunburned skin, gritty bathing suits, boardwalk rides, lights and music out after dark, treats only eaten there, ceaseless wind, shells, seaweed smells, fish and sea monsters.


For me at least, it’s something bigger than happy memories. The sea is something bigger. 


As a baby reader, my favorite book was a funny one guessing the creature, (a whale): “There’s a hole in my head.” And my next favorite, the abridged Moby Dick my mother read to us, with gory illustrations. And Jules Verne, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea! Swiss Family Robinson, abandoned in a shipwreck on a desert island! Treasure Island. 


I grew up Mid-Atlantic coast. I loved any artifacts of fishermen and sailors and pirates, naval ships and submarines, storms and shipwrecks, marine animals, driftwood and egg cases. Mermaids, silkies. Nymphs and gods.


And next: remember paperback romances sold on a rack in the drugstore? They weren’t smutty yet; anything resembling the spicy romance market currently sold online, would assuredly have been in paper covers behind the counter with the men’s magazines. On the drugstore rack, with the comic books, I found a romance about a whaler’s “widow”, nineteenth century dread and desire anxiously interpreting the sea. I fell in love, with New England. 


And I grew into multiple readings of the big Moby Dick, and obsessions with Gloucestermen and the Perfect Storm, Jaws, The Deep, The Abyss, Titanic museums. And the something bigger: it’s something about awe, isn’t it. I became a science fiction reader and viewer, it was in the culture, with the space program. Space horror. The Twilight Zone and Outer Limits. The spooky fun house down the shore on the boardwalk was made over into scenes of abandoned astronauts on stark hostile planets in the vacuum. I’ll never forget it.


I also love John Carpenter’s The Thing. I yearn for Antarctica like the ocean, even though it’s frozen. I could easily live confined in a trailer in a huge hostile winter marine environment, doing science at the interface.


Ocean, mountains, glaciers, the appeal is immensity and power. I want to be one with it.  Maybe it is like my fear of heights, which I experience as an urge to throw myself off the precipice. Sylvia Plath walking deep into the waves? Tolkien’s Western lands across the sea, the end of the elves? More like: the experience of certain music which moves one so deeply. The experience of church. The awesomeness, the awfulness, of an all powerful god. The sinking of ships, twisters, earthquakes. Pinocchio inside a whale.


I remember the shore as a teenager, the deliciousness of being there in the skin. We didn’t need to eat when we were at the beach. Something else filled us. The sun, salt, wind, waves, our only nourishment, no need to leave, dawn to dusk on the beach. I know that if I were there on this very day, for weeks, at most all I’d ever want is a hot cup of coffee.


In addition to The Perfect Storm and Apollo 13, one of my favorite movies is Blueback. It is the fantasy environmentalist beachside living I would choose, had it occurred to me I could choose it. I recommend it because the diving scenes are long and relaxing, soothing. I still sleep best on sheets printed with sharks, with underwater marine footage on TV.


A boyfriend taught me the shocking strength of men, there at the shore, when he picked me up under one arm and ran across the beach. Once, when I was a teen on a date, I had to be saved by two lifeguards, when caught in a rip tide. The guard was so strong and spoke to me so gently until his tension came through in his voice, when he cursed at the other guard who threw a flotation device at my head. I was so embarrassed that I ran off when I hit the sand, without thanking him. My white bikini was transparent when soaked, plus I’d stupidly floundered into the risk zone, at the tide’s mercy, and so I had risked their lives too.  I wish I could thank him, I’ve prayed my gratitude many times, you strong young men. I apologize for my foolish self, who invited the risk when I put myself in the situation. In those days we always apologized, too, for putting ourselves in the situation, when we suffered the force of a young man’s strength. Whether that force is or is not like the risk of the sea is for another conversation.


I chose a college with the requirement that it have a Semester at Sea opportunity with Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. Would I major in marine biology, or English? English and poli sci it was. I rejected fields demanding much mathematics. I completed two semesters of core Oceanography, weakly. Friends teased it wasn’t the poetry on the beach I’d anticipated. (All those arrows and currents! Now I wish I’d paid more attention, whenever I am impressed by marine navigators in movies.) I didn’t do the sea semester, calculating that I wasn’t from the economic class with sailing experience, or extra funding, (a la Richard Dreyfuss in Jaws).Mostly I recognized that maybe I tend more toward contemplation, armchair adventure, than action, and doubting I had the physical energy for deck-swabbing. (Though I am never seasick! That’s DNA!)


I never dream of flying; my dreams are often of floating in the open sea. A Jungian friend said an inclination for water rather than the sky was about inner space over extroversion; but what of my mirror of the ocean, in outer space?  I always believed I’d end up living at the shore, but I’ll blame my failure on both my generation and my personal character: we were the first after our homemaker mothers, suddenly expected to compete in men’s professions. I didn’t think about how to make dreams into goals to be achieved. I always floated, waiting to see what opportunities happened by, more a Jane Austen character when I should have been Horatio Alger. So I haven’t made my home on the beach, though the shore is still a short drive from home, a day trip. And for when I couldn’t get there, I joined our local astronomical observatory on top of a forested mountain. But I found that after all, stargazing is not quite the same as the tidal tug on me. Our home planet, after all, is the blue one. 


In Ascension, by Martin MacInnes


I thought this book would be sci-fi. It won the Arthur C. Clarke award this year. It was also shortlisted for the Booker Prize last year. To my surprise and pleasure, the main character is an ocean explorer who ends up on an astronaut mission. In Ascension is a compelling read but its plot arc and meaning are not obvious ones, and I don't promise I really get it. I avoid speculation here about what happens at the end to avoid spoilers.


Because of the deep connection between humans and all life, and our origins under the sea or in the furthest reaches of outer space, the story interweaves complex and mysterious family relations of two sisters, their abusive father and distant mother. The characters never really manage even in extreme travel or isolation to get far away from that family entanglement.


The family are Dutch, with their national legacy of life reclaimed from the sea. Narrator Leigh discovers a passion for swimming further and further out. Under the surface she abruptly encounters what will be her life’s cause:


…I realised, suddenly, with appreciation, that absolutely everything around me was alive. There was no gap separating my body from the living world. I was pressed against a teeming immensity, every cubic millimetre of water densely filled with living stuff. These organisms were so small I couldn’t see them, but somehow I felt their presence, their fraternity, all around me. I didn’t look through the water towards life, I looked directly into water-life, a vast patchwork supporting my body, streaming into my nostrils, my ears, the small breaks and crevices in my skin, swirling through my hair and entering the same eyes that observed it. In what felt like minutes, but must have been only seconds, I saw a completely different world, a place of significance and complexity, an almost infinite number of independent organisms among which I floated like a net, scooping up untold creatures with every minor shift and undulation of my body.


When she returns to her bundle of clothes and dresses, “I felt I was only now inhabiting a personality, that until I entered these pre-set shapes I was diaphanous, and this form did not necessarily match up with who, or what, I was.”


As a marine microbiologist, Leigh joins an expedition where she and other divers explore an unimaginably deep subterranean trench and hydrothermal vent. A discovery of ancient bacteria ultimately weaves into Leigh’s work on growing DNA enhanced algae for a food source for space exploration. When a technology breakthrough finally enables faster and farther human space travel, Leigh trains astronauts in her algae agriculture, not only for food but for the benefit of gardening for their sanity on long voyages.


When a mysterious communication signal is received from the outer edges of the solar system, an investigatory mission embarks, including Leigh.


Ascension is a secret island, a place where even the weeds pushing up through pavement are a "miracle", where Leigh’s sister Helena attempts to investigate, with another relative of the crew, the status of the space mission.She further explores their shared history.  Like the sea turtles Helena sees there, with their “amphibious wisdom of 100-million-year-old eyes”, we have no option not to come home.


I did enjoy reading this book, but felt disappointed afterward, I don’t know why; I think most science fiction ends in some level of disappointment for me. Maybe I want to keep going somewhere else. 


Upon reading In Ascension, I did look at the world with new eyes, maybe akin to how it feels for astronauts to see our blue home in the window set against the blackness of space: a novel sense of relatedness with all inhabitants, and a protectiveness of the world. 


Leigh’s mother had once told her, “Everyone is a parent. That’s what getting old is: catastrophic senescence. That’s what dying is. You become a parent. You fall into the stream.” (I often joke, as a literal parent of children, that we are the dead wood from which fungus springs.) I like MacInnes's take on our universal parentage of what comes next.


I read his lesson about whale breath and navigation as a personal directive to continue exploring the world with language as long as I am breathing:


“...[W]hen whales rise out of the water to gather breath they incidentally collect images – terrestrial and astronomical markers – that become essential in their long migrations. Breath is an opportunity, and whales registering constellations is no more outlandish than the language we carve from air.”



The Sea Spicer

Another beach in New Jersey

Friday, August 2, 2024

Summer in Narnia

 

Stone Lion
boy reading a book outside
My ten-year-old godson has annual summer reading assignments from his school, and just because what I love most in all the world is summer vacation and reading, I run a little “summer reading camp” for him every year, with book-related activities and snacks. And because I learn something new every time I read/teach a classic favorite, I’m sharing our joyful experience with  C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.


I know, old school, but perfect timing for him, because he hadn’t seen the movie, didn’t know the story, and I hear there’s a new Narnia series due out sometime in the future, so, last chance to meet the book for the first time.


I did a quick re-read before he joined me in reading it. 


Environment


  • I taped up a Lamppost in the snow poster welcoming him to Narnia, 


  • rolled up a map of Narnia for him to discover and place the action as the tale progressed. 


  • A faux-stone lion, (a college mascot), sat in our reading area.


  • A jigsaw puzzle of a mystical lion would be our reading breaks activity, 


  • with games of hide and seek, (when it wasn’t too hot), like the children played when the wardrobe was discovered.  . 


  • Lottery: I also prep a “draw” bucket, with each of our names for Read Aloud, and with options for Silent Reading, and Choice. 

    • This "game of chance" was more important for getting through the books when he was a new reader, but it is still a nice opportunity every now and then to hear him reading for fluency and pronunciation, and to check understanding of harder words. 

    • And on the occasion when I am doing the read aloud, it’s good for witnessing his listening skills, and sometimes, to serve as a model. The final chapter, for instance, has the children talking in the manner of ancient kings and queens, which would be a familiar diction for children brought up reading Le Morte d’Arthur, but is probably news to this class.


Setting the scene:


I supplied the following historical information before he started reading. 


  • Lewis wrote the story for his goddaughter. 


  • The story takes place in England, during the Second World War. 


  • At the time, children were sent from their homes in London, because of the bombing risk, to live with relatives in the country. The four sibling children characters in the book arrive at an uncle’s great house in the country.

  • Because of the war and the need for food to supply soldiers at the front, food at home for civilians was rationed. Sugar and other ingredients were limited in availability. [This becomes relevant as a background to Edmund’s temptation later in the story, and even to Lucy’s temptation to overstay her visit with Mr. Tumnus..]

Enrichment I:


This novel can be read wholly as a fantasy adventure story. There is absolutely no explicit doctrine. (The characters do bemoan that since the Witch's reign in Narnia, it is always winter and never Christmas; and a character named "Father Christmas", makes a brief appearance on a sleigh and leaves gifts.)


  • Christians may want to recognize parallels to Jesus in Aslan’s sacrifice to the Witch on Edmund’s behalf, the Deep Magic from the Dawn of Time requiring his death on the Stone Table; and the even Deeper Magic before Time, Aslan’s resurrection, and Edmund’s confession, forgiveness and penitential courage he exhibits in battle.


The metaphors weren’t obvious to my reader. He really suffered the impact of Aslan’s death, and lost interest in reading further when that terrible scene happened. After all, we do want good to triumph over evil, and don’t want the wicked witch to prevail over someone so loved and seeming to have such power.


I had to hint at a happy ending to encourage his reading on, which he did on his own at home, outside of camp. When Aslan returned, our student wasn’t conscious of the lion’s return as a resurrection. I asked this: Do you remember how they humiliated the noble Aslan before he was killed, by cutting off his mane and teasing? Does this remind you of anyone?

And then he got it instantly, in the Passion events, “Ohhhhh! Jesus!” 


The Stone Table/Altar connection was hazy for my reader. But that’s all right, it’s hazy for us all...


Enrichment 2:  


I said I always learn something. These were reflections which changed my summer, and which I tried to share with my camper.


  • Inspiration for the Witch's statues in the tragedy of war: Watch a clip (at 4:23 to 5:08) of Episode 6, “Bastogne”, of the series Band of Brothers, currently on Netflix.

I happened to be watching Band of Brothers. I had an uncle who fought in the Battle of the Bulge, so I was keen to tune into Episode 6, “Bastogne”.  And there, in the snow, lay randomly here or there, the frozen dead. They looked just like I imagined the Witch’s stone statues in Narnia!

C.S. Lewis served in action in WWI and in the Home Guard in WW2. In WWI he was shipped home in mid-December, having been injured in No Man’s Land in France. 

We know that Lewis’s friend Tolkien was inspired by his service in the wars, when he wrote of the terrible bog bodies in Lord of the Rings. I feel Lewis must have been similarly informed by the winter of death he witnessed on the battlefield, when he imagined the white Witch’s awful spells which turned so many good folks in Narnia to stone, and the children’s horror at the sight of the statues. 


Enrichment 3:


I was struck by a distinction between Lewis’s story and Tolkien’s, in the two “sides” at war, the good guys and the bad guys. 


In Lord of the Rings, it seems to me there are instances of species or races inclined to be on the side of wrong, vs. goodness. The eagles are the rescuers, for example, and the crows, wargs, and cave trolls serve the other side.  Granted, many of the minions of darkness have been created or perverted from other origins.

a spider on a map
A Spider visited our Map of Narnia


  • In reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, we discussed how some of the giants, satyrs, wolves, dwarves, and other creatures served the Witch, and some fought for the true king of Narnia, or fell to become statues of the Witch’s making, because they opposed her. Being on the side of good or evil was a choice, not an inherent birthright or doom.
tea and a puzzle

The Menu:


My boy is a fussy eater, but he did try and like new foods in our Narnia menu! 


I tried to use plates and basketry which suited the rural woodland habitat of the children’s hosts, Mr. Tumnus the Faun, and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver.


Chapter 2: Tea in the Cave with Mr. Tumnus


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    Herbal Tea

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    Hard-boiled Brown Eggs

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    Sardines on Toast

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    Buttered Toast 

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    Toast with Honey

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    Sugar-topped Cake

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    Treacle - I added molasses to the table to introduce British treacle,

  • a cross-reference to Alice’s tea in Wonderland…]


Chapter 4: Turkish Delight


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    Turkish Delight

 I considered making my own. The boy has a tree-nut allergy so I typically prepare his snacks from scratch, making our own gummy candies, etc. There are lots of recipes for this jelly-like, gummy squares snack, dusted in cornstarch. I was very lazy this year though and purchased a tin of Turkish Delight from a candy supplier which seemed to be nut-free. Warning: Many brands and recipes have a pistachio Turkish Delight which would be hazardous for those allergic. Pistachio is one traditional flavor, along with rosewater.


These candies were lovely, fruit flavors and hues, no pistachio, nuts not listed in ingredients as an allergen warning. They were from Sarah's Candy Factory, Turkish Delight with Assorted Fruit Flavors (30 oz) Gift Box for Everyone. We did not have any allergy issues from eating them. [That said, do your own research, I cannot vouchsafe the product.]



Chapter 7: A Day with the Beavers


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    Pan-fried fish filets, [or Smoked trout ]

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    Potatoes

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    Homemade bread

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    A big lump of deep yellow butter

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    Jug of creamy milk

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    Tea

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    Gloriously Sticky Marmalade Roll from the oven



Gloriously Sticky Marmalade Roll: I would like to try this again and bake an actual marmalade roll, I think as a sweet yeast bread rolled and sliced, like cinnamon rolls, though a jelly-roll sponge would also be nice. I haven’t seen any recipes for the versions I have in mind.


I cheated and baked a quick bread machine poiund cake which I cut up and coated with orange marmalade. We are all now marmalade devotees, and have added it to our toasts for more Narnia teas.


Chapter 10: The Spell Begins to Break


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    Red and White Striped Peppermint candies

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    Jam-filled Thumbprint or “cave” cookies]


(The above were my addition to acknowledge the return of Father Christmas to Narnia.)


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    Bread and Ham sandwiches

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    Tea

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    Cream

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    Sugar


Chapter 11: Aslan is Nearer


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    Tin cup of water

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    Hunk of dry bread crust



And after all our work on this book concludes, one big, glorious, proper teatime, to celebrate!


Next up

Just in time for our big local 4-H fair: E. B. White’s Charlotte’s Web.



Menu is fair foods like corn and ice cream and popcorn, but no more ham or bacon!