The Silver Chair

What's inside (9 sections)

1. Trouble At Experiment House
2. The Cliff And The Four Signs
3. An Old King And A Parliament Of Owls
4. Puddleglum On The Road North
5. Harfang And The Writing Under Me
6. The Queen Of Underland
7. Why This Darker Narnia Stays
8. Key takeaways
9. FAQ

I came back to this one because I remembered Puddleglum more clearly than the plot. A damp voice saying good mornings lead to wet afternoons. That stayed with me from childhood while the rest had blurred. Reading it again as an adult, I was surprised how stern it feels next to the earlier Narnia books. First published in 1953 by Geoffrey Bles, it is the fourth book of the Chronicles of Narnia in the order Lewis wrote and published them. The first edition ran to 217 pages. It follows The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and comes before The Horse and His Boy. The Pevensies are gone here. Eustace Scrubb returns, older and less prickly, and he brings a school friend who has never seen Narnia at all.

Lewis wrote it quickly over Christmas 1950 into early 1951 and kept the shape tight. Two children sent on a search. An old king near death. A lost prince. Four signs to hold in mind. Much of the middle is walking, hunger, cold, and missed chances. Much of the end is underground, by lamplight, with a chair that should not be used. I liked it more this time for its patience. I also found parts of it trying, in the way a teacher can be trying when he repeats the lesson.

Trouble At Experiment House

Jill Pole is crying behind the gym when we meet her. She goes to Experiment House, a school Lewis paints as modern and slack, full of bullies and committees and talk about freeing children from rules while the strong do what they want. Jill has been picked on by a gang. She hides to avoid them. Eustace Scrubb finds her there.

Eustace is different from the boy in the last book. On the Dawn Treader he was selfish and sharp tongued, then turned into a dragon for a time and learned better. Now he is at the same school and trying to live changed. He tells Jill about Narnia. She half believes him and half thinks he is mad. He suggests they ask Aslan for help getting out of trouble. It sounds odd in a school corridor, but Lewis treats it plainly, as children will.

The bullies close in. The two push through a gate in the high wall that used to lead only to the road. This time it opens elsewhere. They step onto a high moor of rock and grass under a wide sky. Before them rises a cliff edge with a drop that makes Jill dizzy. Far below are mountains and water. Behind them no school wall stands at all. Only wind.

This opening works because it is short on comfort. No kind professor. No warm house like the Pevensies had. Just two frightened children out of options. Jill is quick and tearful and proud. Eustace is steadier now but still a boy. Their friendship feels new and thin, which makes what Aslan asks of them feel heavier.

The Cliff And The Four Signs

On the cliff top Jill shows off. She walks too close to the edge to prove she is not scared. Eustace grabs for her to pull her back. He loses his footing and falls. Jill watches him go with horror. Then Aslan comes.

He is large and grave and not in a hurry. He breathes on Eustace and carries him away on the wind toward Narnia proper, so the boy lands safely far off. Then he turns to Jill. He does not scold in long speeches. He tells her the work and tells her it will now be harder because of what happened at the edge. Hers is the task of remembering.

Aslan gives her four signs to guide the search for the lost prince of Narnia. First, when Eustace sets foot in Narnia, he will meet an old friend at once, and Jill must greet that friend straight away. Second, they must ride north to the ruined city of the giants. Third, they must find writing that reads Under Me. Fourth, they will know the lost prince when they hear him ask for release in the name of Aslan.

He makes her repeat them in order until she has them firm. Remember, repeat, hold fast. Lewis returns to this idea through the whole book. Memory is the thin rope here. Jill says the signs over to herself on the road, then lets them slip when she is tired or fed or scared, then recalls them too late. Anyone who has tried to keep a promise while cold and hungry will recognize the pattern.

Aslan blows Jill after Eustace. She lands in Narnia near a great castle by the sea. Eustace is already there. Below them a ship is leaving the harbor with an old man aboard. They stare and wonder and do nothing. Only later do they learn the old man was King Caspian himself, sailing out in his age, and that by failing to speak they missed the first sign within minutes of arrival.

An Old King And A Parliament Of Owls

Caspian is now very old. Seventy years have passed in Narnia since Eustace sailed with him, though less than a year has passed in England. His queen is dead, killed by a green serpent. His only son, Prince Rilian, went out to hunt that serpent ten years ago and never came back. The court fears Caspian has sailed to ask Aslan who should rule after him, since he may not live long.

The children are taken to Cair Paravel and given rooms by Trumpkin, the dwarf who serves as Lord Regent. He is old too, and deaf, and brisk in the way of someone who has heard many stories from travelers. Jill and Eustace say little about their errand at first, which proves wise. A talking owl named Glimfeather finds them on the terrace at night and sees at once they are from another world.

Glimfeather carries them to a parliament of owls. Lewis enjoys the double sense here, a flock and a council, and writes the scene with feathers and blinking eyes and low hooting talk. The owls tell the tale of Rilian. After his mother died, grief settled on him. He rode out often alone. One day he did not return. Some said he followed a beautiful woman in green. Search parties found nothing. The land settled into waiting.

The owls decide the children need a guide for the north. They fly them to the marshes to meet Puddleglum, a Marsh wiggle who lives in a wigwam among reeds and peat. He is long legged and solemn, with a face made for rain. He smokes a pipe and expects the worst. He also agrees to go at once, which tells you what kind of fellow he is under the gloom.

I love this stretch for its quiet. Old friends grown old. Empty chair at table. Owls turning their heads in the dark. It gives the quest weight without a battle. My only complaint is that Trumpkin gets little time. He was bright and tart in the earlier book. Here he is mostly a door keeper. Still, the handoff from court to owls to marsh feels right, from order to wild counsel to mud.

Puddleglum On The Road North

Puddleglum takes charge of packing in a practical way. Warm clothes. Dried food. Rope. Flint. He warns the children that the north will be cold and bare and that giants live there. He does not cheer them. He tells them they will likely get wet and lost and that it is best to accept it early. Jill thinks him dreary. Eustace, who has traveled before, sees the use of him.

They cross Ettinsmoor, a wide waste of rock and bog. The walking wears them. Food runs short. Rain comes and stays. They see huge trenches and causeways that look like the work of hands far larger than theirs. At one point they meet a dull party of giants who do not even notice them, striding past with stone clubs. It is both funny and chilling. The children feel the size of the world.

Then on the bridge of giants they meet the Lady of the Green Kirtle. She is lovely and calm, dressed in green, riding with a silent knight in black armor who never lifts his visor or speaks. Her voice is smooth. Her manner is kind in a way that asks for trust without earning it. She hears they are cold and hungry and tells them of Harfang, the house of the Gentle Giants, just ahead, where they will find beds and baths and a great Autumn Feast. She points the way and leaves them wanting it.

Only Puddleglum holds back. He says houses with names like that seldom mean what they say. He votes to keep to the wild road. The children overrule him because they can already smell hot food. This is Lewis at his most plain about want. Tired bodies stop listening to heed. Jill stops saying the signs each night. Eustace stops checking her. They hurry toward chimneys in the distance while snow starts to fall.

The march taught me to like Puddleglum. He grumbles about everything and keeps walking. He expects eels for supper and cold beds and still brings extra socks. Children in books often get guides who are wise or strong. Puddleglum is neither in the shining sense. He is steady. When the others dream of feasts, he remembers the road.

Harfang And The Writing Under Me

Harfang looks welcome after weeks of wet. Great doors. Fires. Polite giants who call the guests little folk and give them big chairs with steps and huge beds with ladders. Jill gets a hot bath and clean clothes. Eustace eats more than he should. For a page or two it feels like rescue.

Then from a high window they look back at the valley in clear light after snow. Below lies the shape of a ruined giant city, streets and walls under white, which they had crossed without seeing in the storm. They missed the second sign clean. That night Jill wakes and finds carved letters on the cliff face near the castle. Under Me. The third sign, found late and by chance rather than by watch.

Fear follows fast. Jill slips into the kitchen quarters and finds a cookbook open to a recipe for man, with a page for marsh wiggle nearby. The Gentle Giants mean to serve them at the Autumn Feast. The warmth of Harfang turns in a sentence. Lewis does this well. No long reveal. Just a book, a title, and cold sense.

They escape by night and lower themselves over the cliff in the dark, which takes nerve after what happened on the mountain with Aslan. They shelter in a cave mouth under the ruined town. The floor gives way to a long slope. They slide down into dark that smells of earth and water. Hands find them below. Strange folk with flat faces carry lights that burn pale. They are taken by boat across the Sunless Sea, a black stretch of water under stone, to a city where lamps never go out and the queen is away.

This middle can feel slow on a first read. Feast, window, cookbook, flight. Yet on a second read the slowness is the point. Comfort made them dull. Dullness nearly killed them. Lewis does not let them off with luck alone. They get out because Jill keeps her head in the kitchen and because Puddleglum keeps his feet on the cliff.

The Queen Of Underland

The city belongs to the Lady of the Green Kirtle, queen of a deep country called Underland. Her servants are earthmen, small gnomes who speak softly and obey. In her absence the travelers are brought to a young man who greets them kindly. He is handsome and sad and courteous. Each night, he says, a fit takes him and he must be bound to a silver chair. If left loose he will turn into a serpent and kill all near him. He asks them to watch and not to free him whatever he says.

They watch. Bound in the chair, the youth raves and pleads and threatens by turns. His talk shifts. He claims the queen keeps him by spells. He demands release. Then, in distress, he begs them in the name of Aslan to cut him loose. Jill and Eustace look at Puddleglum. This is the fourth sign, spoken plain. They cut the cords though their hands shake.

The chair breaks under the prince own strength once he stands. He takes his sword and smashes the silver work to pieces. He names himself Rilian, son of Caspian, held ten years by enchantment, made to forget Narnia above and shaped into a tool for conquest through the tunnel the queen has her people dig toward the upper world. The silent knight in black was him, ridden mute beside his captor on the bridge.

The queen returns before they can flee. She is calm and sure. She throws green powder on the fire. Sweet smoke rises. She takes an instrument and plays soft notes and speaks in a low voice about there being no sun, no lion, no upper world, only her dark and her lamps. Her words curl round the mind. Eustace and Jill grow heavy. Rilian wavers. Even Puddleglum feels it.

What breaks the spell is plain and bodily. Puddleglum thrusts his bare foot into the fire and stamps the powder out. Pain clears his head. The smell lessens. He speaks against her with clumsy courage, saying he will live as a Narnian even if there is no Narnia to live in, that he sides with Aslan tale over her tale. It is awkward and brave and very moving. The others wake as if from sleep.

Enraged, the Lady changes. Green and gold pour along her arms. She becomes a great serpent, poison colored, the same kind that stung the queen mother years before. Rilian knows her now. With Eustace and Puddleglum beside him he fights her on the stone floor and kills her. With her death the spell over the earthmen lifts. They laugh and weep and throw off their tasks. Many leap into a chasm that opens toward Bism, their true home of fire and bright metals far below, calling it with joy. One shows the travelers a way up through the digging.

They climb into Narnia as Caspian ship comes back to harbor. Father and son meet. The old king blesses the boy and dies within the day. Grief and gladness mix in the court. Rilian is hailed, then buries his father by the sea.

Aslan meets the children again. He brings them to his own country at the cliff top where the stream runs. There lies the body of old Caspian in the water. At Aslan bidding Eustace drives a thorn into the lion paw. Blood falls on the dead king. Caspian rises young and strong, laughing. For a little time he goes with them back through the wall to Experiment House. With swords and a riding crop and a great roar that shakes loose stones, they scatter the bullies who ruled the yard. The Head, who had let things slide, finds her school changed after. Eustace and Jill go back as friends who have held through something.

No part of me warmed more than Puddleglum foot in the fire. Critics sometimes call his pessimism a trick repeated too often. I found it honest here. He expects rain and still plants. He fears enchantment and still thinks. Lewis gives him the best line in the book about bright mornings bringing wet afternoons, and lets it stand as wisdom rather than joke. If the Harfang pages drag, and if the queen music scene runs long with talk of sun and lamp, Puddleglum carries those pages on his back without asking thanks.

Why This Darker Narnia Stays

I finished with two feelings at once. Gladness that Eustace has grown into someone who stands when cords must be cut. Sadness that Caspian we knew as a boy must die as an old man while we watch. Lewis does not soften either.

The signs stayed with me most. Greet the friend. Go to the ruins. Read what lies under. Free in the name. Simple words, easy to speak on a cliff top, hard to keep on a wet moor or at a rich table. Jill forgets and remembers and forgets again, and each lapse costs. That feels true to how resolve works at school age, and at mine too.

Some readers will find the middle heavy with walking and the end heavy with talk. The giants feast takes its time. The queen pleading takes more. Susan and Lucy are absent, Peter only a name, and some will miss them. The Christian shape is plainer here too, blood that heals, a lion who sends and judges, which will move some readers and put off others. Lewis also writes girls in older terms at moments, brave but often tearful, while the boys get swords. It shows its year in small ways.

Still, the images hold. Owls with round eyes in dark trees. A marshman smoking while rain patters on reeds. Letters cut in stone above snow. A silver chair broken on the floor. A bare foot pressed to embers to keep thought clear. I put the book down and said the four signs over once more to fix them, the way Jill should have done each night.

FAQ

Is The Silver Chair the fourth Narnia book?

Yes in publication order. It appeared 7 September 1953 from Geoffrey Bles, after The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and before The Horse and His Boy. The first edition ran to 217 pages.

Who goes on the quest in The Silver Chair?

Eustace Scrubb returns with his school friend Jill Pole. Marsh-wiggle Puddleglum guides them north to find Prince Rilian, the lost son of old King Caspian.

Does the book feel dated in places?

In spots. Jill and Eustace forget the signs in ways that frustrate, Harfang runs slow, and the queen pleading scene is long. Puddleglum steady humor and the Underland escape still carry the tale.