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    <name><![CDATA[Mer]]></name>
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  <id type="integer">53367</id>
  <isbn>0060847131</isbn>
  <isbn13>9780060847135</isbn13>
  <ratings_count type="integer">1267</ratings_count>
  <text_reviews_count type="integer">120</text_reviews_count>
  <title>The Chronicles of Narnia (#1-7)</title>
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  <id type="integer">1069006</id>
  <name>C.S. Lewis</name>
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    <rating>3</rating>
  <votes>8</votes>
  <spoiler_flag>false</spoiler_flag>
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  <recommended_for><![CDATA[]]></recommended_for>
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  <read_at>Tue Jan 01 00:00:00 -0800 1985</read_at>
  <date_added>Wed Apr 18 21:20:50 -0700 2007</date_added>
  <date_updated>Wed Dec 16 18:10:47 -0800 2009</date_updated>
  <read_count></read_count>
    <body><![CDATA[<a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1058/is_2_123/ai_n16133213" title="http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1058/is_2_123/ai_n16133213">http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1...</a><br/><br/>(Click the above link to read professor Carol Zaleski's interesting take of the seething religious/political furor surrounding these classics.)<br/><br/>I pined for Narnia in the most broken, sad way when I was a little girl. <br/><br/>Obviously, I had no knowledge of any Christian subtext when I first read &quot;Da Chroni *WHUT* cles&quot;. I remember devouring them in much the same way that children are now tearing through the Harry Potter series. Lewis's lavish descriptions of fauns and dragons and giants have burned themselves permanently into my memory.<br/><br/>Ten year old Mer's desire to live in that world and shoot arrows and eat Turkish Delight and befriend those magical talking beasts was all-consuming. Most of all, I wanted to know Aslan. To be cuddled and loved by that big, fierce, lovable lion. But in the end, I had to let go of him and his realm. (I remember being so disconsolate, in fact, that my parents let me stay home from school for a day! And they NEVER let me play hookey! So weird, remembering that.)<br/><br/>There were just so many aspects of that world that made me feel, well, BAD, somehow. Guilty, or ashamed, or just plain uncomfortable. <br/><br/>Remember when Susan didn't come back, basically because she discovered her sexuality?<br/><br/>Remember the Calormenes? Those dark-skinned people with really intense garlic breath who wore turbans and worshiped a Satanic &quot;false god&quot; who demanded blood sacrifices from his followers?<br/><br/>There was SO much blame being laid out in that world. A lot of finger-pointing and shaming going on, a lot of damning and excluding. It was all very black and white, us or them, good or evil.<br/><br/>In the end, I rejected the Narnia books for that reason. Later, finding out Lewis was a devout Christian and Aslan was basically supposed to be Jebus in a lion suit, I wasn't at all surprised.<br/><br/>Nowadays, I recommend Miyazaki movies (especially Kiki) to every tween girl I meet to cleanse their palate of some of the more despicable Disney depictions of femininity, and I happily gift kids (and adults!) with the Dark Materials trilogy to counteract their exposure to the Narnia dogma.<br/><br/>All that being said, these books are a memorable part of my childhood, and I still recall parts of them with fondness and longing.<br/>]]></body>
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