Prince Caspian

Title:

Prince Caspian

Author:

Lewis, C. S.

Baynes, Pauline

Subject:

Classic Literature

Fantasy

Juvenile Literature

Juvenile Fiction

Description:

Illustrations in this ebook appear in vibrant full color on a full-color ebook device and in rich black and white on all other devices.Narnia . . . where animals talk . . . where trees walk . . . where a battle is about to begin.A prince denied his rightful throne gathers an army in a desperate attempt to rid his land of a false king. But in the end, it is a battle of honor between two men alone that will decide the fate of an entire world.Prince Caspian is the fourth book in C. S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia, a series that has become part of the canon of classic literature, drawing readers of all ages into a magical land with unforgettable characters for over sixty years. This is a stand-alone novel, but if you would like to see more of Lucy and Edmund's adventures, read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the fifth book in The Chronicles of Narnia.

Publisher:

HarperCollins

HarperCollins e-books

Date:

2009/10/06

Digital Format:

HTML

ADOBE EPUB

KINDLE

Language:

English

Summary

Illustrations in this ebook appear in vibrant full color on a full-color ebook device and in rich black and white on all other devices.

Narnia . . . where animals talk . . . where trees walk . . . where a battle is about to begin.

A prince denied his rightful throne gathers an army in a desperate attempt to rid his land of a false king. But in the end, it is a battle of honor between two men alone that will decide the fate of an entire world.

Prince Caspian is the fourth book in C. S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia, a series that has become part of the canon of classic literature, drawing readers of all ages into a magical land with unforgettable characters for over sixty years. This is a stand-alone novel, but if you would like to see more of Lucy and Edmund's adventures, read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the fifth book in The Chronicles of Narnia.

Author Notes

C. S. (Clive Staples) Lewis, "Jack" to his intimates, was born on November 29, 1898 in Belfast, Ireland. His mother died when he was 10 years old and his lawyer father allowed Lewis and his brother Warren extensive freedom. The pair were extremely close and they took full advantage of this freedom, learning on their own and frequently enjoying games of make-believe.

These early activities led to Lewis's lifelong attraction to fantasy and mythology, often reflected in his writing. He enjoyed writing about, and reading, literature of the past, publishing such works as the award-winning The Allegory of Love (1936), about the period of history known as the Middle Ages.

Although at one time Lewis considered himself an atheist, he soon became fascinated with religion. He is probably best known for his books for young adults, such as his Chronicles of Narnia series. This fantasy series, as well as such works as The Screwtape Letters (a collection of letters written by the devil), is typical of the author's interest in mixing religion and mythology, evident in both his fictional works and nonfiction articles.

Lewis served with the Somerset Light Infantry in World War I; for nearly 30 years he served as Fellow and tutor of Magdalen College at Oxford University. Later, he became Professor of Medieval and Renaissance English at Cambridge University.

C.S. Lewis married late in life, in 1957, and his wife, writer Joy Davidman, died of cancer in 1960. He remained at Cambridge until his death on November 22, 1963.

(Bowker Author Biography)

Reviews (1)

Guardian Review

CS Lewis knew few children, yet his Narnia stories know how to give child readers narrative satisfaction. The objections to the covert Christianity of the novels continue, yet rarely is there any analysis of why Lewis's transformation of Christian narrative is so successful. Some have complained that the presence of the apparently divine Aslan guarantees the triumph of good and takes away free agency from the child heroes and heroines. Yet the arrangement of benign fatality is native to much children's fiction (and Shakespearean comedy, for that matter). From early on in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe , the talk of Aslan's impending arrival and the prophecies about "two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve" reigning in Narnia assure the reader that evil will be defeated. Lewis's Christian certainty is felt by many readers simply as narrative confidence. The narrator is conducting his characters, as much as his reader, to a happy ending. The narrator's presence is the guarantee of the narrative's benignity, as much as in a novel by Henry Fielding. As Edmund travels to meet the Witch in order to betray his siblings, the narrator tells us that if he had not had a sudden thought about becoming king, "I really think he might have given up the whole plan and gone back and owned up and made friends with the others". The narrator tries to be generous. He will not describe all the monstrous beings who attend the White Witch, "because if I did the grown-ups would probably not let you read this book". Pace his anti- Christian foes, this does not mean that Lewis's child characters do not make choices. (The first of his Narnia novels indeed turns on Edmund's mean-spirited and self-deceiving choice to serve the Witch.) It is just that their decisions are sanctioned by some greater power. Lewis's children greet their experiences with the lack of surprise that will become the entry condition for Narnia. The transition from ordinary to magical is brilliantly managed in the famous description of coats giving way to branches as Lucy pushes into the wardrobe. It is not so strange, to Lucy at least. The opening part of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is all about credulity - the truthful Lucy tells her disbelieving siblings about Narnia - and a kind of parable about the book's own method. Lewis has his main characters experience new worlds unsuspi ciously, as if their best bet is to apply the standards they have always trusted. Ordinary things are still around them. There is the intoxicating Turkish delight, of course, but also Mr Tumnus's tea and Mrs Beaver's marmalade roll. The very title of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe emphasises the meeting of the domestic and the magical. Here Lewis learnt most from E Nesbit (just before it was published he told his would-be biographer that it was "in the tradition of E Nesbit"). Nesbit's 1908 short story "The Aunt and Annabel" features a magical world entered via "Bigwardrobeinspareroom". The opening of The Magician's Nephew sets that novel at the time when "the Bastables were looking for treasure in the Lewisham Road" (the Bastables being the family featured in Nesbit's The Story of the Treasure-Seekers and its sequels). Perhaps the most memorable episode in The Magician's Nephew involves Digory and Polly's introduction, by mistake, of Queen Jadis to late Victorian London. This imitates the passage in Nesbit's The Story of the Amulet where the Bastable children accidentally bring the Queen of Babylon back to London. Lewis's sources were many. Mr Tumnus tells Lucy about nymphs and dryads, Silenus and Bacchus, but also about dwarfs and intelligent trees. We encounter every kind of fabulous being: giants, unicorns, centaurs, dragons, winged horses, minotaurs and werewolves. Lewis's friend JRR Tolkien was irritated by the inconsistency of the mythological borrowings. The final straw was the appearance of Father Christmas, jovial harbinger of the collapse of the White Witch's power. Tolkien's own fiction delights in the exorbitant, internally consistent detail of the imagined world he creates, with a fully plotted history and carefully described geography. The precedent for Lewis's selective mingling from different narrative bestiaries (imitated by JK Rowling) was one of his favourite literary works, Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene , a veritable kit- box of all mythologies. Lewis's model was inclusive, adaptive, a place for any imagined being. John Mullan is professor of English at University College London. Join him and CS Lewis's biographer AN Wilson at the Newsroom, 60 Farringdon Road, London EC1R 3GA on December 21 for a discussion of the Narnia books. Doors open at 6.30pm and entry costs pounds 7. To book call 020 7886 9281 or email book.club@guardian.co.uk To order a seven-volume boxed set of the Narnia novels for pounds 35.99 with free UK p&p call Guardian book service on 0870 836 0875 Caption: article-Book club.1 CS Lewis knew few children, yet his Narnia stories know how to give child readers narrative satisfaction. The objections to the covert Christianity of the novels continue, yet rarely is there any analysis of why Lewis's transformation of Christian narrative is so successful. Some have complained that the presence of the apparently divine Aslan guarantees the triumph of good and takes away free agency from the child heroes and heroines. Yet the arrangement of benign fatality is native to much children's fiction (and Shakespearean comedy, for that matter). From early on in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe , the talk of Aslan's impending arrival and the prophecies about "two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve" reigning in Narnia assure the reader that evil will be defeated. Lewis's Christian certainty is felt by many readers simply as narrative confidence. The narrator is conducting his characters, as much as his reader, to a happy ending. - John Mullan.

Excerpts

Prince Caspian The Return to Narnia Chapter Fourteen How All Were Very Busy A little before two o'clock, Trumpkin and the Badger sat with the rest of the creatures at the wood's edge looking across at the gleaming line of Miraz's army which was about two arrow-shots away. In between, a square space of level grass had been staked for the combat. At the two far corners stood Glozelle and Sopespian with drawn swords. At the near corners were Giant Wimbleweather and the Bulgy Bear, who in spite of all their warnings was sucking his paws and looking, to tell the truth, uncommonly silly. To make up for this, Glenstorm on the right of the lists, stock-still except when he stamped a hind hoof occasionally on the turf, looked much more imposing than the Telmarine baron who faced him on the left. Peter had just shaken hands with Edmund and the Doctor, and was now walking down to the combat. It was like the moment before the pistol goes at an important race, but very much worse. "I wish Aslan had turned up before it came to this," said Trumpkin. "So do I," said Trufflehunter. "But look behind you." "Crows and crockery!" muttered the Dwarf as soon as he had done so. "What are they? Huge people -- beautiful people -- like gods and goddesses and giants. Hundreds and thousands of them, closing in behind us. What are they?" "It's the Dryads and Hamadryads and Silvans," said Trufflehunter. "Aslan has wakened them." "Humph!" said the Dwarf. "That'll be very useful if the enemy try any treachery. But it won't help the High King very much if Miraz proves handier with his sword." The Badger said nothing, for now Peter and Miraz were entering the lists from opposite ends, both on foot, both in chain shirts, with helmets and shields. They advanced till they were close together. Both bowed and seemed to speak, but it was impossible to hear what they said. Next moment the two swords flashed in the sunlight. For a second the clash could be heard but it was immediately drowned because both armies began shouting like crowds at a football match. "Well done, Peter, oh, well done!" shouted Edmund as he saw Miraz reel back a whole pace and a half. "Follow it up, quick!" And Peter did, and for a few seconds it looked as if the fight might be won. But then Miraz pulled himself together -- began to make real use of his height and weight. "Miraz! Miraz! The King! The King!" came the roar of the Telmarines. Caspian and Edmund grew white with sickening anxiety. "Peter is taking some dreadful knocks," said Edmund. "Hullo!" said Caspian. "What's happening now?" "Both falling apart," said Edmund. "A bit blown, I expect. Watch. Ah, now they're beginning again, more scientifically this time. Circling round and round, feeling each other's defences." "I'm afraid this Miraz knows his work," muttered the Doctor. But hardly had he said this when there was such a clapping and baying and throwing up of hoods among the Old Narnians that it was nearly deafening. "What was it? What was it?" asked the Doctor. "My old eyes missed it." "The High King has pricked him in the armpit," said Caspian, still clapping. "Just where the arm-hole of the hauberk let the point through. First blood." "It's looking ugly again, now, though," said Edmund. "Peter's not using his shield properly. He must be hurt in the left arm." It was only too true. Everyone could see that Peter's shield hung limp. The shouting of the Telmarines redoubled. "You've seen more battles than I," said Caspian. "Is there any chance now?" "Precious little," said Edmund. "I suppose he might just do it. With luck." "Oh, why did we let it happen at all?" said Caspian. Suddenly all the shouting on both sides died down. Edmund was puzzled for a moment. Then he said, "Oh, I see. They've both agreed to a rest. Come on, Doctor. You and I may be able to do something for the High King." They ran down to the lists and Peter came outside the ropes to meet them, his face red and sweaty, his chest heaving. "Is your left arm wounded?" asked Edmund. "It's not exactly a wound," Peter said. "I got the full weight of his shoulder on my shield -- like a load of bricks -- and the rim of the shield drove into my wrist. I don't think it's broken, but it might be a sprain. If you could tie it up very tight I think I could manage." While they were doing this, Edmund asked anxiously, "What do you think of him, Peter?" "Tough," said Peter. "Very tough. I have a chance if I can keep him on the hop till his weight and short wind come against him -- in this hot sun too. To tell the truth, I haven't much chance else. Give my love to -- to everyone at home, Ed, if he gets me. Here he comes into the lists again. So long, old chap. Goodbye, Doctor. And I say, Ed, say something specially nice to Trumpkin. He's been a brick." Edmund couldn't speak. He walked back with the Doctor to his own lines with a sick feeling in his stomach. But the new bout went well. Peter now seemed to be able to make some use of his shield, and he certainly made good use of his feet. He was almost playing Tig with Miraz now, keeping out of range, shifting his ground, making the enemy work. "Coward!" booed the Telmarines. "Why don't you stand up to him? Don't you like it, eh? Thought you'd come to fight, not dance. Yah!" "Oh, I do hope he won't listen to them," said Caspian. Prince Caspian The Return to Narnia . Copyright © by C. Lewis. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Prince Caspian by Pauline Baynes, C. S. Lewis All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.