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jmichaeltilley 's review for:
The Silver Chair
by C.S. Lewis
The Silver Chair continues The Chronicles of Narnia with a darker, more atmospheric tale that takes readers deep underground in search of a lost prince. Eustace Scrubb, now a more seasoned visitor to Narnia after his time aboard the Dawn Treader, returns with his schoolmate Jill Pole. Summoned by Aslan, they are given a set of signs to guide them on their quest to rescue Prince Rilian, the lost heir of Narnia, who has been imprisoned under the spell of the mysterious Lady of the Green Kirtle. With the help of the perpetually pessimistic but steadfast Marshwiggle, Puddleglum, they journey through harsh landscapes, encounter treacherous allies, and ultimately face the enchanting, dream-like power of the underworld.
One of the standout elements of The Silver Chair is Puddleglum, whose dry wit, stubborn faith, and practical wisdom make him one of the most memorable characters in the series. I had somewhat forgotten about him, and revisiting his steadfast nature—especially in the climactic confrontation with the Lady of the Green Kirtle—was a highlight. His refusal to succumb to illusion, despite all rational signs pointing to the contrary, is a powerful moment of faith and perseverance. He represents the kind of stubborn belief that holds fast even when all external evidence suggests giving in—a striking contrast to modern cynicism.
Jill’s arc, particularly her interaction with Aslan at the beginning of the story, is another strong point. Her reluctance, her struggle to remember and follow Aslan’s instructions, and the consequences of her choices all add layers to her character. She is one of the more realistically flawed protagonists in Narnia, and her journey from fear to confidence makes her growth compelling.
That said, my recurring concerns with Lewis’ portrayal of women resurface here. There’s an offhand comment about the headmaster of Jill and Eustace’s school being a woman, framed as a negative, which undercuts what is otherwise a rich and engaging story. It’s frustrating to see these moments persist across his works, especially when The Silver Chair otherwise does a strong job of giving Jill a central role in the adventure.
I had also forgotten about the Owls and their role in the early parts of the story, setting the stage for the quest. While they don’t have a lasting impact, they add to the book’s sense of mystery and transition into the darker, colder world beyond Narnia’s borders.
Another notable aspect of the novel is how Lewis’ apologetics subtly come through, particularly in the climactic confrontation with the Green Lady. Her attempts to convince the protagonists that the Overworld, Aslan, and the sun are mere illusions align closely with materialist and skeptical worldviews that Lewis frequently critiqued in his theological and philosophical works. Puddleglum’s response—that even if Narnia and Aslan were a mere fantasy, they are still a better, richer, and truer way to live—mirrors Lewis’ own defenses of faith against materialism. The argument recalls Lewis’ The Abolition of Man, where he critiques a purely reductionist view of reality, and it strongly resembles Platonic themes of the world above being more real than the shadows below. The scene serves as both a compelling narrative climax and a condensed version of Lewis’ broader apologetic concerns.
Overall, The Silver Chair is one of the more unique and eerie installments in the Narnia series. The underground setting, the themes of perseverance and faith in the face of deception, and the excellent characterization of Puddleglum make it a rewarding read. Though some of Lewis’ gendered commentary continues to bother me, the novel’s themes of steadfastness, truth, and courage stand out as some of the series’ most enduring lessons.
One of the standout elements of The Silver Chair is Puddleglum, whose dry wit, stubborn faith, and practical wisdom make him one of the most memorable characters in the series. I had somewhat forgotten about him, and revisiting his steadfast nature—especially in the climactic confrontation with the Lady of the Green Kirtle—was a highlight. His refusal to succumb to illusion, despite all rational signs pointing to the contrary, is a powerful moment of faith and perseverance. He represents the kind of stubborn belief that holds fast even when all external evidence suggests giving in—a striking contrast to modern cynicism.
Jill’s arc, particularly her interaction with Aslan at the beginning of the story, is another strong point. Her reluctance, her struggle to remember and follow Aslan’s instructions, and the consequences of her choices all add layers to her character. She is one of the more realistically flawed protagonists in Narnia, and her journey from fear to confidence makes her growth compelling.
That said, my recurring concerns with Lewis’ portrayal of women resurface here. There’s an offhand comment about the headmaster of Jill and Eustace’s school being a woman, framed as a negative, which undercuts what is otherwise a rich and engaging story. It’s frustrating to see these moments persist across his works, especially when The Silver Chair otherwise does a strong job of giving Jill a central role in the adventure.
I had also forgotten about the Owls and their role in the early parts of the story, setting the stage for the quest. While they don’t have a lasting impact, they add to the book’s sense of mystery and transition into the darker, colder world beyond Narnia’s borders.
Another notable aspect of the novel is how Lewis’ apologetics subtly come through, particularly in the climactic confrontation with the Green Lady. Her attempts to convince the protagonists that the Overworld, Aslan, and the sun are mere illusions align closely with materialist and skeptical worldviews that Lewis frequently critiqued in his theological and philosophical works. Puddleglum’s response—that even if Narnia and Aslan were a mere fantasy, they are still a better, richer, and truer way to live—mirrors Lewis’ own defenses of faith against materialism. The argument recalls Lewis’ The Abolition of Man, where he critiques a purely reductionist view of reality, and it strongly resembles Platonic themes of the world above being more real than the shadows below. The scene serves as both a compelling narrative climax and a condensed version of Lewis’ broader apologetic concerns.
Overall, The Silver Chair is one of the more unique and eerie installments in the Narnia series. The underground setting, the themes of perseverance and faith in the face of deception, and the excellent characterization of Puddleglum make it a rewarding read. Though some of Lewis’ gendered commentary continues to bother me, the novel’s themes of steadfastness, truth, and courage stand out as some of the series’ most enduring lessons.