wake up, fall in love again

I learnt very quickly to not side with Simon, like at all. I can't recall a time when a good thing happened when you went with his idea. If you side with him and Josh in Spare Parts, you only get a limited supply of biocomponents compared to when you side with North, or siding with him and North when deciding on what to do with John leads to the group being chased out of the warehouse, and later if Markus goes pacifist, his own death. Simon doesn't make many calls in the Stratford Tower except 2 if you go pacifist, telling Markus to leave him behind to die and asking Markus to not shoot him. In Freedom March his solution is by far the worst: turning on their heels and running away. And in Cross Paths he tells Markus that North is a lost cause and to leave her to die. These are all his choices that he suggests (from what I can remember), and they all have horrible turnouts.

Simon has good intentions, all he wants is for him and his people to be free, and he's surprisingly reckless with his own life to do so. Despite being careless with his own life, when others are in trouble, he has a hard time taking risks even if it will better his people's life quality. He values the life of his people above all, if an act will cause harm to them, he is hesitant to do it, this prevents him from doing the things he may or may not want to do.

Simon starts out a cautious person, him being in Jericho for 2 years not leaving or making it any better proves that enough (there's literally dismantled corpses piled up on one another in the main room, if they needed to dispose of them all they had to do was dump them off into the ocean, I think most of them were too scared to even go outside). That skittishness did a lot more harm against Jericho than good. His decisions, no matter how good-willed, are what kept Jericho back. His opinion, due to his age, was respected amongst Jericho. While I don't know if he was the leader (idk where that came from tbh) or if Jericho even had a leader but it's clear people respect Simon enough to go along with what he thought was right. Evidently he often isn't. He tries his best with what he's given, dissembling his friends to serve another's or his own needs, but it isn't enough, and Jericho without Markus is destined to rust and fall apart.

Simon is stupidly selfless, I think that held him back from a lot because he couldn't make sacrifices and we see that he is able to in Cross Paths with the North scene but he hates to. If someone shut down naturally, he'd feel less guilty compared to if he made an active decision that would put them in jeopardy. Although I do think his beliefs stem from a place of empathy rather than guilt. He is the one character in the game that isn't an antagonist that, if you mainly listen to, does more harm than good, and that reflects a lot on what Jericho was like before Markus: people doing the best they can but ultimately failing.

Simon is neutral in the way that he doesn't mind violence or care that much about humans, but he has his own opinion outside of pacifism or violence, he wants as many of his people to survive as possible. He understands that it won't gain their freedom but isn't willing to pay the price of their blood. Honestly, I think his indecisiveness on what path to go is from a place of insecurity. I don't think Simon trusts himself at all with big decisions, and he doesn't want blood to be on his hands if (when) his plans fail. So, he grows dependent on Markus to make decisions.

He believes whatever Markus decides will lead them to victory, he is the key to the lock that he's been hopelessly picking at for years. If Markus dies in Freedom March, he'll say, “Markus would know what to do” in the meeting during Cross Roads. He really thinks that Markus has the answers to the questions that's he's been banging his head against. I think it's because of that little push in Spare Parts. We see how happy he is when they accomplish their mission, jogging ahead of the group to announce the news, or if they fail to get enough parts, his mouth is agape as he listens to Markus’ speech despite Markus' failure. He has so little hope that even a slight glimmer of light makes him desperately believe it'll glow bright, and he's going to do everything he can to help it glow. Since, nothing he's ever done has even come close to creating that spark because Simon is meant to symbolise the mass, he is a follower pretending to be a leader.

I didn't have anywhere to put this:

i love simon, and his entire character/arc, and a big part of it is exactly this: simon's got a flaw of playing it too safe.

that's a character archetype i don't often see done well in media but it's so fascinating to me. the different paths of dbh show the consequences of taking dangerous actions (or failing those actions) but jericho's situation starts as suffering the lack of action.

it definitely seems like simon had a de facto leader role of jericho (markus brings his plan to simon, not josh or north) and it makes sense -- josh wants to take peaceful action, and north wants to take aggressive action. simon is clearly a mediator, trying to find the common ground between the two of them. the people of jericho listen to him because he's extremely practical, too -- he's extremely grounded in the individual lives at risk, the real and present dangers, etc. unlike josh and markus, who are big-picture thinkers, and north, who i interpret as counting the cost of individual lives but identifying the cause as more important too.

so simon's rationalization is in-the-moment, pragmatic, and meant to minimize loss. this works great when you're in survival mode... but stops being effective when you're trying to make a huge change in an entire community's way of life. also, constant middle-ground is a solid philosophy (that i happen to really closely align with!!) but it NEEDS to be accompanied by some level of decision-making or it turns into a total lack of anything happening. that's why jericho needed markus, someone who could be decisive and get the forward momentum going (in whatever direction that movement goes). BUT, it's also why i love seeing markus and simon (along with north and josh, of course!) work together. markus shouldn't follow most of simon's protests, it's true, but the fact that markus continues to listen to simon's input is so important. they provide balance to each other, just as josh and north do for each other. josh is for pacifism, north for violence, markus for radical action, and simon for caution. for any movement to be successful (really, for any kind of team endeavor) you need diverse perspectives to stay well-rounded and focused on the mission

all that to say: the different philosophies and personalities of the jericrew have so much potential and are so so interesting to dive into. also simarkus is beautiful <3

OH and to op:

Simon is so underdeveloped, and I can't help but pull at threads to unravel some kind of character underneath it all.

He's just some guy that got into this mess and tries his hardest to survive even though it's often not enough. He's okay with just being alive, freedom would be optimal, but survival is enough for him even if it's not all he wants.

He lacks a lot of agency, and I understand why, but it keeps Jericho completely stagnant, repeating a system that only just works (sounds familiar). The lack of drive to take risks is absolutely what kept Jericho in a state of ruin.

but YES it's so nice to see when other people look at the dbh characters so wholly and deeply, because there's so much potential there that the game simply doesn't cover. non-combative interactions with the jericho four are one of my favorite things to find in dbh fic 🙂‍↕️ if you want something right, fans have to do it themselves!!

Light of the Jedi | by Charles Soule Even after I’d turned the page from this moment, my mind kept drifting back to it, because the context of the story is that there’s so much belief and faith placed in the Jedi in this book, how there’s this sense of the galaxy around them being rather awe-struck by them. As well as moments like this from the Jedi themselves:

prev. posts on the matter:

the sibling dynamic differences btw the lion the witch and the wardrobe + prince caspian

ed and peter's relationship progression through tltwtw

ed giving peter reassurance + support

the Sibling Huddle + ed going from the outskirts of his siblings affection/protection to being right in the middle of it

OK ONWARDS (and again this is going to be a long post so buckle up)

the first time we see Edmund again, he's once again racing into the middle of a fight to protect his big brother. So we know that their dynamic of protecting one another has stayed the same, and Edmund's now not afraid to stand at his brother's side to keep him safe.

and when the fight is over, we get the assumption that Peter is annoyed with Edmund for stepping into the fight.

but that's not it at all.

Peter was a king for fifteen years, and he was suddenly thrown back into being a child without any warning. It's been a year, and he's obviously struggling to cope with the sudden change (which, that's definitely understandable. peter's having to grow up twice, once as a king, and once as a normal child, and it's difficult). In Peter's mind, Edmund shouldn't have to defend him, because the fight was stupid. He knows that.

and when they return to Narnia, they're back to that fun, goofy brotherly dynamic we see in the second half of "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe", where they're just being brothers! they're back home, they're back in the place they're most comfortable!

this picture is here because i can't get over the fact that the four of them just subconsciously always fall into walking in their throne order, like they probably spent their fifteen years sitting and standing in that order that it's ended up just being second nature to them!!!

and then when Lucy and Susan run off towards the beach, we get one of my favorite lil moments between Peter and Edmund

they're back to acting like kids, but it's on THEIR terms! you get the feeling that this is 100% how they acted in their early years of ruling Narnia, like the kids they were, having fun with each other while learning how to actually rule.

when Edmund asks "Where do you suppose we are?" and Peter responds with "Well, where do you think?", Edmund doesn't get snarky and sarcastic like he would have at the beginning of TLtWtW, and Peter, after hearing Edmund's response about the ruins, doesn't get huffy or annoyed.

we LOVE healthy sibling communication 😭😭😭😭

also i really really love that Edmund's the one who realizes that Cair was attacked, because his role as the Just King was negotiations and working with other countries, and Peter looking to him for the answer is SO wonderfully in character as they settle back into their roles as kinds and queens!!!

i won't go TOO into detail abt this scene, because i already have a post about it, but i love it so so much!!! the way Edmund sounds like he's teasing Peter, and Peter obviously trying to sound angry while trying to hold back his own laughter!!!!

when they save Trumpkin, look at how they react:

The girls stay back (obviously bc Susan's got a good shot with her bow) and Peter starts running. Edmund looks to Peter to see his reaction, and immediately follows after him

and when Lucy sees Aslan, Peter doesn't believe her. It's only when Edmund brings up their first time visiting Narnia, when he says "the last time I didn't believe Lucy, I ended up looking pretty stupid". THAT'S when Peter goes back to Lucy and asks why he didn't see Aslan, and I absolutely love that moment. Because yeah, Peter's a little pissed at Aslan, so having the sibling who doubted Narnia + it's existence the most coming to Lucy's defense would definitely help Peter believe a bit more.

then, when they do arrive at Aslan's How:

this is honestly the MOST relaxed we've seen the siblings. They're back to doing what they've known for the past fifteen years, they're settling into familiar dynamics! It's easy for them to go back to their roles as kings and queens, fighting for their country.

when Jadis appears, and Peter's caught in her spell, that's probably the biggest moment for Edmund in the movie. Just like how the "why can't you learn to do as you're told?" line is echoed at the beginning and end of the first movie, the "i had it sorted" line is echoed at that moment. But Peter's face isn't annoyed, and Edmund's isn't necessarily angry.

Peter looks terrified, and Edmund looks more worried than we've ever seen him.

He's seeing Peter fall into that pattern of resentment and anger that led Edmund himself to fall into Jadis' clutches their first adventure into Narnia. He knows that if Peter isn't careful, he's going to play right into her hands, and he can't let his older brother go through what he went through. Peter faltering when he faces Jadis in both "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" and "Prince Caspian", whereas Edmund being the one to face down the witch in all three movies (his scene with her in "Dawn Treader" is still one of my favorites) is so important to Edmund's character, because he's facing his trauma in different ways.

it's also Peter's wakeup call, seeing Edmund's reaction, as well as seeing Susan's reaction. He realizes that he needs to change his behavior, or else bad things will happen.

also Edmund being the only one really to call Peter "Pete" is so important to me, i love hearing the siblings' nicknames for each other 😭

and this moment basically being identical to the moment after Peter finds out Aslan's died, only this time, instead of seeking out Edmund's support, he's sought out Lucy, and we get a glimpse into what Peter and Lucy's dynamic absolutely looked like when they were older in Narnia

also Edmund always standing on Peter's right side makes me EMOTIONAL bc again it's probably just a subconscious move due to the fact that that's how their thrones were positioned, and they're probably just so used to standing that way!!!

and then there's my fucking FAVORITE Edmund scene in this entire movie

LOOK at this smug fucker

Peter thrives off of leading his people, but Edmund thrives off of negotiations and being a little shit to rulers three times his age 😌

and you can't see it, but when Caspian brings up the idea of the duel, Peter turns around to look at Edmund (who's sort of behind the pillar but he's there!!)

because Peter knows this isn't his area of expertise, it's Edmund's, so it should be up to his brother to decide if it's a good idea. Because yeah, Peter's the High King, but like Edmund says to Miraz, he's a king as well. He's on the same level as Peter, and Peter knows this, and treats him like his equal.

AND ONCE AGAIN DURING THE DUEL WE SEE A MIRROR OF THE BATTLE IN THE FIRST MOVIE

Susan and Lucy have gone off on their own, to find Aslan. they're away from danger and relatively safe (at least, that's what Peter believes). Edmund is at Peter's side, his second in the fight, and is there as support and to help him in whatever way he can.

and Edmund telling Peter to keep smiling, because they've done this before, Peter's had duels that probably didn't start off as well as he planned, and both Peter and Edmund know they have to keep the Narnians' spirits up, and even though their smiles are absolutely awful, they still put on a show for their people

(contrasted against Caspian, who obviously isn't used to this, and doesn't smile, letting his worry show clear through)

this is probably my favorite moment of theirs in the movie. When Peter asks "what happens back home, if you die here?". It's something that obviously neither of them have ever thought of before, and Edmund obviously really, REALLY doesn't want to think about his big brother dying. And Peter trying to be emotional, trying to thank Edmund for being at his side, but Edmund stopping him, being the rational one, telling him to save it for later because he really can't bear the thought of those being Peter's last words to him.

this moment isn't really anything major, but their positioning again!!!! before Susan comes in, Caspian is right at Peter's left. She puts herself between them, not to be rude or anything, but because this is the lineup they're used to. Peter with Susan on his left and Edmund on his right. Whatever battles they found during their rule, this was most likely how they did fight when Susan was on the ground with them. Again, they fall back into this order whenever they're together, and it just makes my heart explode

also this is a v bad screenshot because it's far away, but

the three of them sticking together during the battle, with Peter and Edmund going off for the more close combat fighting, leaving Susan open to be able to fire her bow and use her arrows without being blocked or interrupted!!! It's so obvious that this is something they've practiced, this is a usual fighting dynamic for them, and i just love seeing how they interact during this fight (also ty to the costumers for putting only the pevensies in the red tunics + dress, it makes it so much easier to see them)

ok i did lie about this post being the last one bc i'm absolutely making one on their costumes in this scene!! but i do love that the last time we see them in Narnia, they're still in their throne order, just reversed!!!

and finally, they're back in their throne order!!!

okay, i'm done with this post, it was longer than i expected it to be rip

so yeah since @mira-kyria has enabled me on my other peter and edmund post guess what bitches you're getting MORE "probably looking way too into it" analysis of the lion the witch and the wardrobe <3

(seriously, get ready, this is a long fucking post with photo evidence lmao)

the entirety of the movie, Edmund is separated from his siblings. Whether that's physically, emotionally, mentally, Peter, Lucy, and Susan are always together, and Edmund is very much on the outskirts.

take the scene when the four are saying goodbye to their mother at the train station:

Susan, Lucy, and Peter are standing closer to their mother, whereas Edmund's sort of off to the side. Despite the fact that he's probably absolutely terrified, he's not showing that emotion, and sticks to the outskirts of everything.

then, when they're actually on the train, the separation is much, MUCH more obvious:

Susan practically has Lucy in her lap, creating a very clear separation between the two of them and Edmund (whether intentional or not, who knows?). Edmund has pressed himself up against the window, and his body language is very closed off, angling himself away from his sisters and Peter (who is on the opposite bench).

the second shot isn't even sad, and yet it makes me want to cry. The way Susan and Lucy are cuddled up together, how Peter's lounging on the side closest to the girls, and Edmund's curled himself away from his siblings to stare out the window????

also while this isn't necessarily a moment that has to do with the sibling huddle, when Mrs. McCreedy yells at Susan for almost touching the statue, Peter and Edmund have a Sibling Moment™️

Look at them sharing a laugh!!!!! it's SUCH a brief moment, but it shows the tiniest glimpse into their relationship prior to the war, prior to Peter having to step into their father's shoes, prior to Edmund shutting himself off and away from everything 😭

and using a different angle from the scene outside of Mr. Tumnus' house + the first shot within the beaver's home jUST to make the separation that much more obvious and painful

yeah... there's really nothing else i can say about these two shots except they're literally the perfect example of the sibling dynamics at that moment in the film, with Peter, Susan, and Lucy knowing where they fall in their new dynamic, whereas Edmund's left sort of floundering and unsure.

and then, when Edmund is rescued and returns to his siblings, things have shifted. Like I've said before, there's a new understanding between the four of them. Peter, Susan, and Lucy now understand Edmund's struggles, they understand his fears. Edmund sees how his siblings have grown and changed, and more importantly, he and Peter have come to see each other's side of the story.

This is the youngest we've seen Edmund act. Before, he's been so tense and stiff, but now, even after what he's gone through, he's lost his tension. His body posture is open, his face is relaxed, and he's smiling at his sisters. Honestly, this is the youngest we've seen ANY of the Pevensie siblings act, with Peter's teasing, Susan's sisterly hug (instead of the maternal ones that we see her give Lucy multiple times)

THEN THERE'S THIS FUCKING SCENE

the way they're sitting together!!! this is not only the first time we've seen them share a meal, but it's also the first time we're seeing them all together!!! The way they're sitting, compared to how they sat at the beaver's home?? there's no one sibling who's further away, they're all equally distant from each other. this is the moment where they truly feel like siblings, like a family, like everything will be okay...

peter!!!!! protecting!!!!! edmund!!!!!!!

the way he doesn't even hesitate to draw his sword, he's never seen battle, but all he knows is that Jadis is trying to take his little brother away from him, the little brother he JUST got back, the little brother he's finally reconciled with, and there's no way in hell that Peter's letting that happen on his watch. he lost Edmund once, he's not losing him again

and finally we have the lovely lovely sibling huddle at the end of the battle!!!!!!

and remember, the last time Peter and Edmund were in danger, and the moment they were safe, Peter pushed Edmund away from him, he stood as far away as possible from him, and yelled at him.

Now, as soon as Edmund is safe, Peter grabs him into the tightest hug, basically dragging him up to have his little brother in his arms, to reassure himself that Edmund's safe, he's alive, and Peter didn't fail. he's holding him as close as he can, and Edmund's returning the hug JUST as fiercely.

and in the huddle, Lucy's arms are around Edmund, but the only person that Edmund's really hugging back is Peter. He's tucked into his older brother, Peter being the one who's supporting Edmund off the ground, the two of them taking strength from each other

like i hope y'all know i'm never ever going to get over the look of pure, unadulterated joy on Edmund's face when Peter hugs him, properly, truly hugs him for the first time in probably a year (assuming their father left when ww2 started in 1939). i'm also absolutely never getting over Peter breaking down and completely failing to hold back his tears during this hug, his relief that his brother is safe, and that they're all okay finally spilling over.

and then finally this very very blurry shot as Lucy going to heal everyone of Susan and Peter being on either side of Edmund, because throughout the entire movie, Lucy's been the priority, but now, she doesn't need Susan and Peter to protect her, Emdund's the one who needs his older siblings, and they know this, and them staying with him and probably taking care of him and smothering him in a way that makes him roll his eyes but also feel his heart get all warm and fuzzy is something i'm really trying not to cry over

bonus: my favorite moment from the coronation (besides Lucy having to use a stool to get on her throne, she's so little 😭😭😭😭)

Edmund getting crowned as the Just King and immediately turning to look at Peter like "look!!!!!!!!" and Peter grinning so widely back at him because he's just so proud of all his siblings!!!!

and then, fifteen years later, when Edmund stops bc Phillip needs a break, Susan, Lucy, and Peter immediately turning around and going back to check on him???????

There’s a golden chess piece in Susan’s hand. Its ruby eye winks at him in the dappled light and Edmund suddenly knows. They’re standing in ruins, catapulted stones lie all around them in the ruins of a once great castle, and it can’t be his, it can’t be. But Susan’s holding a golden chess piece with a ruby eye and Edmund knows it even though it’s been a year, even though, logically, he knows there could be a thousand chessmen that look like that. Edmund knows it’s his, knows that he left it on the board in their private sitting room, standing on E5, one move away from checking Lucy’s king on H2, knows he never made that move because Mr. Tumnus had burst in with news of the White Stag and they had rushed away, never to return.

He knows because it is–it had been–his favorite set. A present from Father Christmas during their first proper Christmas in Narnia. The golden knights had been modeled after Orius, one broadsword gripped in one hand, shield clasped in the other, with a sword strapped to his back, sheaths on both flanks. They’re hidden by Susan’s palm now, but Edmund can just see their outline, just like he can just see the lion crest imprinted on his shield. If he could only find them, the rooks would be perfect copies of the Cair’s spires, the bishops of their advisors, the pawns of the trees he saw out his window every morning. If he could only find them, the gold queen would be a perfect miniature of Susan, and the gold king of Peter. Edmund himself and Lucy had been the silver king and queen. It had been his favorite chess set, and Edmund knows it better than he knows their father’s set in Finchley. 

So he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that the golden knight Susan holds is from that set. 

So he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that they stand within the ruins of their home, centuries away from their friends and the time they belong. 

He almost drops it. It almost burns, to hold a reminder of their last days in Narnia, to hold a reminder of all the things they have lost. But he doesn’t. For some reason that he really couldn’t explain, Edmund slips it into his trouser pockets. And then he slips it into his bag before they leave the treasury. And then he keeps it with him, worrying over the ruby with his thumb as they hike through the changed forests, as they enter the How, as they plan and fail and plan again. It’s in his pocket as he watches Peter duel with Miraz and as Peter places the crown on Caspian’s brow. 

When they change back into their old uniforms, he slips it back into his pocket. And when they walk through that outline of a door, he holds onto it, expecting it to dematerialize at any moment, to vanish from his grip. 

But it doesn’t. 

It stays in his pocket as he walks from one world to another. And then it stays in his pocket as he settles down to living this life. As he goes to school, to classes. As his parents send him off to Uncle Harold’s and Aunt Alberta’s. There Eustace almost finds it, thieving snoop that he is. But even he cannot pick Edmund’s pockets, and so it remains with him. Day after day, week after week, year after year. The face becomes smooth, the shield crest on the shield is worn away, and some days Edmund cannot look at it without crying, can’t touch it without a phantom burn, but even so, it stays in his pocket.

It stays in his pocket, but he is only human and one day he forgets it. In his haste to change into the workman disguise Peter brought, he leaves it on his desk and only realizes when he slips the rings into his pocket. But it doesn’t matter, not any more. Soon he’ll be back in Narnia, soon he’ll be back home, and what need of mementos will he have then?

Peter - Believes but has doubts and needs proof, but as soon as they get it, that's it for them.

Susan - The one that is raised in faith but falls away (but can always come back).

Edmund - Came to belief later in life but becomes as strong of a believer as you'll ever meet. Once they believe, that's it for them.

Lucy - Was raised in faith, has the strongest blind faith of anyone you'll ever meet, never falls away.

I'm thinking about the way his intelligence was used against him to enable his abuse.

You see, people forget that Edmund is an extremely smart character and he takes pride in that. It becomes central to who he is as an adult. He becomes the strategist amd diplomat. His hobbies are chess and playing politik. If we look at how he behaves in the beginning of LWW, he appears to be a classic case of gifted kid superiority complex. He's very bright, a bit of a shithead, but naive-

Because he's a child. And the thing about children is they tend to give people the benefit of the doubt unless or until they learn the hard way not to. Smart kids tend to feel like they have an almost "plot armor". But real life isn't like the movies, where villains give off all the signs and hints from the beginning a smart kid knows to look for. Also, these kids are not aware how much malice there is the world and the sneaky thing about abusers is they hide their red flags and maltreatment until you're emotionally or situationally trapped/entwined with them. But the thing is, even if an abuser shows some red flags early on, a kid is going to overlook those- as are many adults, but especially children, because they're vulnerable and confused by inconsistency. So when the White Witch momentarily snaps at him on their first meeting Edmund clocks it, freezes, but then she reorients her mask and his as-of-yet untraumatized by abuse brain autocorrects the interaction to have been misconstrued in his own mind. After all, villains are always evil. They don't save you from a guy with a knife, invite you on their sleigh to get warm, give you treats for no reason (because of course, he doesn't know her ulterior motive), and offer to make you a prince. Except yes, they do, but the intricacies of grooming are not known to most children, especially in the 1940s.

So when people say "he sold his family out for candy!" they're forgetting the whole plot by refusing to see the situation from Edmund's perspective as C. S. Lewis intended.

From Edmund's perspective, he's a kid being traumatized by the air raids, torn away from both his parents, experiencing behavior completely typical of "acting out" due to a situation in life they have no control over. Then he meets a magical, maternal woman in the woods who is nice to him and asks him to bring his family to meet her- not even really a favor, it seems, a completely inocuous request. When he makes the connection that Peter would be royal if he was, and of higher rank, she implies they could be made servants almost jokingly to assuage him of worry that their arrangement would consist of typical rules that would continue to render him a middle child chafing under Peter's somewhat authoritarian grip. Even if he truly believes he can make Peter wait on him, he's likely imagining ordering Peter to bring him things and fantasizing about being allowed to do what he wants or make decisions without his older siblings chastizing or pulling rank on him. Not like, whipping him while laughing maniacally. Is it nice? No. But it's certainly not EVIL.

And of course, it helps that the candy was enchanted to be as addictive as crack, not that a literal child who has never done drugs and was not told that would realize that.

So then he gets to the Beavers' and they talk about the White Witch as some vile, evil sorceress which directly conflicts with his personal interactions with her, plus Mr. Beaver unintentionally making him feel stupid for not knowing anything Narnia or the prophecies. That hurts his pride for his intelligence yet again, so to make sense of it, he writes it off as untrue because he's still pretty confident in his abilities. Then he decides to just go back to Jadis himself, since she was nice and more pleasant to be around than all this secret police, secret revolution, ancient prophecy shit.

And is completely and totally blind-sided when she turns on him.

So how exactly did he sell his family out? When she yells at him he instinctively blurts out where they are not so that they'll die and he won't, he still doesn't conceptualize the danger yet. He blurts that as a child attempting to assuage an adult that is angry at him, which is exactly what children are TAUGHT to do- acquiesce, obey- especially back then. At least in the movie it is painfully clear he doesn't grasp the true danger until he is brought down to the dungeon at knife-point and hears her set the wolves out. THAT is the moment he realizes he has totally miscalculated and now he and his entire family are in grave danger.

So he gets humbled real quick- by being held against his will in inhumane conditions, beaten, starved, continually threatened and manipulated, a literal PRISONER OF WAR as a CHILD. Then everything he does in captivity from that point is in attempts to protect those around him and minimize the violence he is unintentionally causing (except he's not causing any of it, the responsibility lies entirely with the abuser, but his initial mistake has completely rocked his ego and left him questioning every thing he does while drowning in ever-mounting shame).

But back to his intelligence. After being rescued, he is determined to reorient his intelligence with the new knowledge of evil in his mind, and use it for good. And wonderfully for him, he succeeds by clocking and carrying out what will be the decisive blow on Jadis with her staff. And he even barely lives to tell the tale! And presumably use this intellect time and again during the Golden Age as well as the entirety of Prince Caspian.

Interestingly, though, I would argue this same intelligence is once again wielded against him by the force of evil mist and Jadis in VOTDT. He comes back to Narnia without Peter, where he should now have seniority (and after all that character development, now totally ready to take the reigns!) and he's immediately shelved by Caspian. And Caspian, bless him, has a great heart and is a great leader, but is a little bit of a himbo and is deeply insecure. So the devil gets into Edmund again because his intelligence is being held against him by the narrative always giving him opportunities to use it- and he now knows from experience he can use it well- but not the authority to exercise it at will. See the entire Midas pool scene.

In addition, he's put in charge of Eustace, who is soooo much like he was at that age (and frankly worse). Here you have another prideful, very intelligent and deeply naive, sometimes selfish kid. And it grates on him severely because he is so hard on himself, and thus hates that which feels a bit too familiar, but also you can see he desperately wants to prevent what happened to him from repeating with Eustace. But he can't. Because only Eustace can control that, and he has to learn the hard way just like Edmund did. When he does, Edmund is pretty devastated.

Edmund's final confrontation with the witch- and evil itself- is the most painful reminder of what he's actually been through to those who don't want to pay attention or completely ignored the undertones in LWW. Jadis' "temptation" for Edmund is this:

"I can make you my king. I can make you a man. Give in."

Ewwwwww. But anyway, this reveals so so much about his mind and his relationship to that woman. Edmund is terrified of her. Her offer of kingship no longer tempts him, it disgusts him. He's both terrified of power and terrified of being without power. Being in control and forced to carry all the burdens is terrifying and stressful, but not being in control and being vulnerable is equally horrifying. Jadis is both the thing he fears and admittedly extremely powerful, so a part of him recognizes that her ability makes her capable of protecting him, making him more powerful, and taking away the burden of being in charge himself. But choosing her also means not being in control, not having any power, being permanently victimized by her. It's a catch-22.

So one final time, Edmund's intelligence is his trap. Someone without his intellect and pragmatism (and trauma) wouldn't even be tempted by Jadis in this scenario. They would see nothing of use there. But Edmund does see it, because he's been a strategist and a king.

And he's been a victim and a plaything.

So one last time, his intelligence saves him, and lets him save the world. He sees through her false bargain and knows the hideous reality it hides. He knows that no matter how scary it is to take charge and face his fears and all the danger around, it's better than the alternative. And he's strong enough to handle it.

Lastly, it's who Edmund becomes despite everything he endures that makes him such a fascinating, impressive, and three dimensional character. He's the most human one out of the bunch: a contradiction of crippling anxiety, lust for power, desire for protection, and a mind so sharp it gouges himself as often as it mangles others.

About a year after the Pevensies are made Kings and Queens, before they have earned the titles of Magnificent, Gentle, Just, and Valiant. Back when it's just High King Peter of the Northern Sky, Wolfsbane, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, when it's just Queen Susan of the radiant Southern Sun, King Edmund, Duke of Lantern Waste, of the Western Woods, Queen Lucy, of the Eastern Sea.

Having heard the story of how the once barren, cold land of Narnia ruled by a queen of ice, is now fruitful, beautiful, ruled by two kings and two queens, the Tisroc sends ambassadors to see what this new Narnia is like.

And when these ambassadors find that this bountiful land is ruled by children, they smirk to themselves and bow before King Peter's throne mockingly.

They have no knowledge of the battle that was fought for Narnia's freedom. They know nothing of what the magical air of Narnia does to a person. They look up at the High King, who, while he is still so clearly a boy, is looking down at them from his golden throne with such an air of authority that the ambassadors must look away.

They turn to Queen Susan, back straight, hair braided, hands resting on the arms of her throne. She is more beautiful than anything any of them have ever seen. She looks down at them, and they do not see a silly little girl playing princess. They see a Queen, who sees right through them. They perceive the archery crest embroidered on her dress and know that while a woman, she is a warrior. And they look away.

Their eyes fall upon the King Edmund, younger and darker than his brother, not so golden and splendid and glorious, but quiet, intelligent, and sharp as a knife. He smirks at them, a smile not showing his teeth and only tugging up one corner of his mouth, but behind that smirk they know that he understands the minds of traitors. They know that while the High King senses their plots, King Edmund sees their hearts for what they truly are. None of them hold eye contact for long.

And, finally, they look upon the Queen Lucy, youngest of all, her crown barely staying on her head. She watches them closely and smiles. Oh, that smile. A child's and a woman's, all in one. This is a girl who has seen death. This is a woman who has walked in the mud and blood of a battle and raised her people up. Here is a girl whose wrath will not be stirred easily, but Aslan help the man who plots to rob her of her family. One of her hands absently rubs the dagger on her belt as she looks down at those Calormen ambassadors.

They look up at these children who have seen betrayal, death, forgiveness, blood, battle, and hope and emerged on top. These Kings and Queens, who know what it is to fight and are not afraid to do it.

Second Narnia thought: The pacing! (pt. 1 here)

Part of what fascinates me about this series is how much you can see C. S. Lewis building the ship as he flies it. In the 1950s children's literature kiiiiind of existed (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Peter and Wendy, Tom Sawyer) but it was hardly a genre with established conventions, and the idea of writing an entire novel for a primarily child audience was still in its infancy. The idea of writing an entire series of novels meant primarily for children? That was the kind of oddity that only an Oxford don would have had the privilege to publish back then.

The pacing of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe especially is masterful, and you can see even Animorphs and A Series of Unfortunate Events copying it. Lucy is through the wardrobe on p. 6 of the 1970 edition I have at home, and the whole thing is 186 pages long. It does an excellent job of dipping in and out of narrative distance, zooming in close enough to show Edmund being not sure where to put his feet in a snowy field because the shadows are confusing before zooming back out again to cover the rest of him arriving at the Witch's palace in a single sentence. We find out about Mrs. Beaver's sewing machine, and the novel is entirely vague how long it takes to walk from the Beavers' dam to Beruna Ford. Lewis has a masterful eye for which details matter and which do not, and for conveying an entire frantic nighttime journey with a single shadow.

When I consider other children's novel series with this same length constraint (~150-200 pages), oftentimes the books feel strangely rushed and zoomed-out: Daughters of the Moon covers its biggest plot twist — a character choosing to become possessed for what she thinks are the right reasons, only to be saved by her friends in the last way she would've wanted — in the span of about 3 pages, which makes it feel almost like the events never happened at all. Or else the books feel too zoomed-in, giving me no greater sense of time passing: the Hatchet books (at least to me) feel like they don't really convey time passing, because there's a dramatic in-depth moment of Brian trying to get himself to shoot a deer and then there's him sitting down with the pilot who rescues him, not enough information to convey what happened in between.

C.S. Lewis obviously didn't set out to create a convention that every subsequent work of children's series fiction should be Narnia-length. His goals were to rewrite Christian stories as adventure-based fairy tales, to entertain the kids he was hosting, and to tell a good story based on his philosophy-theology training. But The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe turned out at ~40,000 words once all the editing and publishing was done, and middle grade children's novels have been ~40,000 words since.

that’s what Susan is

but no, we have to invent the most uninspired, surface level take on her story possible and peddle that as the big takeaway of a book series that hardly ever gives you such an on-the-nose “moral”

i know we've discussed it before regarding their crowns but all their armor/gifts ALSO have unique plant imagery per pevensie, chosen for symbolic reasons! peter's oak, susan's ash and daffodils, lucy's yarrow and fire flowers, and edmund is birch

the coloration of edmund's equipment (the red on his shield, his belt, etc) is different from the royal red/gold/silver of his siblings' because of the different origins (father christmas vs the centaurs)

peter's helmet my most beloved is sculpted to evoke the image of a lion's snout (thank u andrew adamson, my best friend forever)

originally on the band of peter's helmet, right above the brow, there was concept art for a tiny etched lamppost and i WISH WE HAD GOTTEN THAT....

edmund's sword and shield are sculpted to subtly reference the lamppost

peter's and edmund's helmets also incorporate the skyline of cair paravel in the etching. what the fawk

i did NOT know this before but the etching on lucy's cordial bottle is meant to reference the scene in dawn treader (the book) where a bird brings ramandu a fire berry, because they figured it must come from the same plant as the fire flower in narnian lore

lucy's dagger is so similar to peter's sword as a nod to their close relationship :((((

(based on this post I made a few months ago)

When the Witch first put him under a spell, Edmund didn’t recognize it. As he stuffed piece after piece of turkish delight into his mouth, he felt a pulling. Goosebumps spread across his arms, and he dismissed it, attributing it to the cold; his thoughts blurred, his mind rushed, he felt faintly nauseous, and he dismissed it, attributing it to the turkish delight, to the sudden intake of sugar after months of rationing. He didn’t notice the pricking of the turkish delight in his cold numbed hands, didn’t notice the bitter aftertaste it left on his tongue, on the way it got stuck in his throat, nor how it scratched. He didn’t notice the tightness settling around him, like his skin had strunk or his bones had grown.

Even at age ten, he was already angry, already disgruntled and confused, already slightly scared, already insecure and love starved. He preened under the Witch’s attention, under her flattery, as she made him feel more important, more loved, than he had felt in months. So when he left the Witch, when the irritation set in, when his very soul itched, when he felt a constant pull back to the wardrobe, back beyond the lamppost to the castle in the valley between the two hills, it didn’t strike him as odd; it too closely echoed his mind before he met the Witch.

That pulling lingered for days, as they explored the Professor’s house, as they played outside, as they all steadfastly ignored the wardrobe room and Lucy’s sullen sadness. It lingered for days, and he didn’t feel guilty for letting Lucy down, didn’t feel ashamed as he could have only days before. He didn’t feel anything but the pulling, the false longing for that quarter of an hour he’d spent wrapped in the Witch’s furs eating her magic. The more days that passed, the longer he ignored the wardrobe, the more it pulled. Always he felt invisible hands on him, pulling him and poking him and prodding him. 

Only for it all to end abruptly as he stood before the Witch, as she sneered at him, as she dragged him across Narnia, as she turned the happy dinner party of Talking Animals to stone, those creatures who had looked at him and called him King with fealty in their eyes and faith in their voices. Only then did the Witch’s magic release him. 

But still he did not understand. How could he, he was a young boy from England whose only previous experience with magic had been walking through a wardrobe. 

It took several years for Edmund to realize exactly what had happened, for him to understand what the pushing and pulling and burning rage simmering in his soul had been, for him to know that magic had been worked on him. 

He had not realized this on his own. He had to experience Magic again. 

A wizard, Edel the Red from beyond the Lone Islands, came to Cair Paravel to offer his services to the new monarchs. Little things really, a preservation and protection spell on the treasury, a spell to increase the fertility of soil around the Cair, things like that. But in those early days no one came to the Cair without ulterior motives. Thus was Edel. He performed all his spells with an eye towards the future. He had not come to Narnia content with merely being a highly respected court wizard. No no, he came to Narnia, of all the kingdoms who might have valued his skills, because he thought her child rulers would be easy to turn into puppets. No other wizards or witches lived in Narnia, Jadis had driven them all out, and the Narnians did not welcome them with open arms but distrust.

Edel proved them right. He had only been at the Cair for three months before he made his play. He slipped a potion into Edmund’s tea that morning; once a traitor always thought a traitor apparently. But Edmund recognized the feeling. The same pulling, the same itching, the same tightness. He panicked, thinking at first that the Witch had returned from the dead somehow. But when he came to his senses, he decided to follow the pushing. After conferring with Peter first, he had enough strength to resist the pulling long enough to do that. Peter and several members of the Royal Guard had hidden around Edmund’s study when he called Edel to him. They heard him as he began to talk up Edmund, planting the seeds of single rule in his mind. He didn’t get very far, Peter hadn’t been able to take much of his speech and had burst out of his hiding spot as soon as Edel had made his intentions clear. Edmund felt the spell’s hold on him break the next morning at Edel’s execution.

He began to watch for it after that, to wait for it, for the pushing, itching, tightness that began whenever magic was worked on him. When they fell through the Wardrobe back into Spare Oom, amid all the heart wrenching losses, Edmund almost felt relieved; he could finally let go of that particular paranoia, of that constant state of limbo, of waiting, he felt as he waited. During that slow year in England, the memory of being enchanted faded. He learned to breathe again, he learned to relax, and after many months, he almost forgot what it felt like at all.

So when the frantically pulling began on the sleepy train platform in the middle of London, Edmund didn’t panic, as he might have a year ago, as he might have even six months ago. 

First Narnia thought: The redemption arcs!

Holy MOLY the redemption arcs in this series are unparalleled; eat your heart out Darth Vader Prince Zuko Severus Snape William the Bloody. Every single book in the series has a big dang moment where a character realizes they were wrong, and then has to decide what to do next.

Edmund's the first and most famous. He's got outside forces genuinely working against him — a charismatic adult tells him to listen, his only other mentors are equally-lost kids, and he's enchanted by Turkish delight. But the text also makes crystal clear he's got inside forces too: he gets told the queen is wrong, he sees with his own eyes that she's running an authoritarian police state, and he still goes along with her plans. His fatal flaw is not being naïve; it's stubbornness. He walks outside into the snow, realizes he forgot his coat... and refuses to turn around. He initially trusts a charming lady he has every reason to trust, but then he continues trusting her after getting disconfirming evidence. And then he gets confronted with unignorable proof of her evil (the tea party being turned to stone) and he has to own up to his wrongness. He has to apologize. He has to work and struggle and nearly die trying to undo what he did. He changes for the better, he grows up, but he never loses that stubbornness, for all that he gets better at directing it.

Aravis and Caspian are sort of the same, in that they're both raised in privilege, used to not bothering to think about other people. Aravis gets confronted with her casual entitlement, in that her oh-so-clever plan for escape hinged on pinning her crimes on a slave girl who would be punished far more harshly than Aravis herself. It happens in an instant, and Aravis can never take other people's pain for granted again. Caspian gets confronted with his entire culture being one of settler colonialism, and his being the direct beneficiary thereof. It takes almost a decade for him to learn to unwind his parents' and uncle's teachings, and to learn how to use his privilege for good, but learn he does.

Same goes for Jill and Diggory, whom I'll lump together because their fatal flaw is contrarianism and impulsivity. They're both classic cases of fuck around and find out: Jill treats a serious conversation with Eustace as a game and (she thinks) gets him killed in a single careless instant, then Diggory treats everything Polly tries to tell him as a game and ends up indirectly destroying the entire world as a result. And for both of them, that's the start of the story, the note we meet them on. But don't worry; these are coming of age stories, and they'll have to learn to grow in the aftermath of their mistakes.

TBH I think Puzzle is the weakest of the set, but he's the classic case of the person who gets drawn so deep into the cult that they become an active participant in the con. And by the seventh book in the series, we all understand what lesson he's about to learn.

Eustace is my all-time favorite, and he's more timely now than ever: he's the Gifted Kid who has spent his entire life being told by his parents that he's the smartest person in the room, and thus he's never had to do an iota of self-reflection. He uses his big vocabulary and his golden boy reputation to get away with basically anything he wants. Above all else he believes in the system, because so far the system has always worked for him. And then he gets dragged through a painting and into a world with a completely different system, one whose rules he doesn't understand at all. He doesn't adapt, he doesn't listen; he just insists on dragging his existing ideas around as everyone stares at him in puzzlement and disgust. He's every 1950s British anthropologist rolling up to a new culture to show them how it's done, so confident in the superiority of the system he's been raised in and his own mastery of said system that he is genuinely confused why everyone else can't see it too. Eustace also gets the most dramatic corner-knocking-off of anyone: apparently being thrust into a completely new society was too subtle a hint for this kid, so next Aslan thrusts him into a completely new reality for a few weeks (and forces him to shut up and listen in the process).