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Excerpted Inspirations #252

Writer: Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
3 days ago
0 min read
[Eustace and Jill have come to Narnia, and joined forces with Puddleglum the Marsh-wiggle, to rescue Prince Rilian from his longtime enchantment in the caves of Underland. One of the gnomes is explaining to them that he comes from still another realm.] “Great Scott,” exclaimed Eustace, “are there other lands still lower down?” “Oh yes, your Honour,” said Golg. “Lovely places; what we call the Land of Bism. This country where we are now, the Witch’s country, is what we call the Shallow Lands. It’s a good deal too near the surface to suit us. Ugh! You might almost as well be living outside, on the surface itself. You see, we’re all poor gnomes from Bism whom the witch has called up by magic to work for her. […]” […] In this way they came to the edge of the chasm. It was about a thousand feet long and perhaps two hundred wide. They dismounted from their horses and came to the edge, and looked down into it. A strong heat smote up into their faces, mixed with a smell which was quite unlike any they had ever smelled. It was rich, sharp, exciting, and made you sneeze. The depth of the chasm was so bright that at first they could see nothing. When they got used to it they thought they could make out a river of fire, and, on the banks of that river, what seemed to be fields and groves of an unbearable, hot brilliance – though they were dim compared with the river. There were blues, reds, greens and whites all jumbled together: a very good stained-glass window with the tropical sun staring straight through it at mid-day might have something the same effect. Down the rugged sides of the chasm, looking black like flies against that fiery light, hundreds of Earthmen were climbing. “Your honours,” said Golg (and when they turned to look at him they could see nothing but blackness for a few minutes, their eyes were so dazzled). “Your honours, why don’t you come down to Bism? You’d be happier there than in that cold, unprotected, naked country out on top. Or at least come down for a short visit.” Jill took it for granted that none of the others would listen to such an idea for a moment. To her horror she heard the Prince saying: “Truly, friend Golg, I have half a mind to come down with you. For this is a marvellous adventure, and it may be no mortal man has ever looked into Bism before or will ever have the chance again. And I know not how, as the years pass, I shall bear to remember that it was once in my power to have probed the uttermost pit of the earth and that I forebore. But could a man live there? You do not swim in the fire-river itself?” “Oh no, your Honour. Not we. It’s only salamanders live in the fire itself.” “What kind of beast is your salamander?” asked the Prince. “It is hard to tell their kind, your Honour,” said Golg. “For they are too white-hot to look at. But they are most like small dragons. They speak to us out of the fire. They are wonderfully clever with their tongues: very witty and eloquent.” Jill glanced hastily at Eustace. She had felt sure that he would like the idea of climbing down that chasm even less than she did. Her heart sank as she saw that his face was quite changed. He looked much more like the Prince than like the old Scrubb at Experiment House. For all his adventures, and the days when he had sailed with King Caspian, were coming back to him. “Your Highness,” he said. “If my old friend Reepicheep the Mouse were here, he would say we could not refuse the adventures of Bism without a great impeachment to our honour.” “Down there,” said Golg, “I could show you real gold, real silver, real diamonds.” “Bosh!” said Jill rudely. “As if we didn’t know that we’re below the deepest mines even here.” “Yes,” said Golg. “I have heard of those little scratches in the crust that you Top-dwellers call mines. But that’s where you get dead gold, dead silver, dead gems. Down in Bism we have them alive and growing. There I’ll pick you bunches of rubies you can eat and squeeze you a cup full of diamond-juice. You won’t care much about fingering the cold, dead treasures of your shallow mines after you have tasted the live ones of Bism.” “My father went to the world’s end,” said Rilian thoughtfully. “It would be a marvellous thing if his son went to the bottom of the world.” C. S. Lewis, The Silver Chair (1953), 171-172, 175-177

 
 
 

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