The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis

Engaging with Michael Ward's "Planet Narnia: The Seven Heavens in the Imagination of C.S. Lewis"

What if C.S. Lewis's structuring of The Chronicles of Narnia was motivated by something more than Christological metaphors we have been taught to see in these books? While these are certainly there and Lewis clearly intends to portray salvific themes in his project—especially in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe—Michael Ward argues in his book, Planet Narnia: The Seven Heavens in the Imagination of C.S. Lewis, that there is something more that motivates Lewis to structure the seven books of the Chronicles in the way that he does. I recently had the opportunity to read this fascinating work of literary criticism and think Ward’s argument is compelling. He posits that the key to Lewis’s “Narnia code” lies in medieval cosmology, specifically the seven medieval planets: Jupiter, Mars, Sol, Luna, Mercury, Venus, and Saturn. Ward argues that the plot, intricate details, and aura of each book in The Chronicles of Narnia is constructed to communicate an overarching medieval planetary personality. A true medievalist, Lewis infuses the Chronicles with the medieval idea of the mood or “personality” of each planet. 

For example, Venus shows her aura in the first installment of the series, The Magician’s Nephew, as the book reflects her qualities of paradise, romantic love, motherliness, and sweetness. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe draws its festive, joyous, and royal themes from the jovial planet, Jupiter. Mars acts as the inspiration for the militaristic, chivalrous, and courageous qualities of Prince Caspian. The generosity, riches, wisdom, and journey to the rising sun in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader points to the aura of the medieval planet Sol. The Silver Chair and its themes of envy and lunacy as well as wateriness and silver draws its inspiration from Luna. The Mercurial essence is ever present in The Horse and His Boy’s use of swiftness, quicksilver, division and reunification, and skill in speech. Finally, The Last Battle conveys the Saturnine essence of apocalyptic terror, ruin, and tragic splendor. I’ve attached a helpful chart by Brenton Dickieson below:

Ward organizes his work by introducing the planet in question and emphasizing its essence before discussing the planet in Lewis’s other works—often his poetry and The Space Trilogy. Of course, in each chapter Ward highlights the intricate connections and overarching themes that marry a particular medieval planet to its respective Chronicle. Furthermore, each chapter culminates in a discussion of the divine Logos in each planetary depiction—usually discussing the portrayal of Aslan in light of the planet in question. Ward is ever thorough in this groundbreaking work and leaves little to be desired in his defense of the medieval planets as the governing themes of The Chronicles of Narnia. Of the many insights given in this book, in the remaining space of this article, I will attempt to highlight the insights most impactful to my view of Lewis and his medieval cosmology. 

Recognizing Lewis’s pregnant silence regarding his deeper inspiration for the Chronicles, Ward acknowledges the lack of explicit references to medieval cosmology in Lewis’s discussions of his Chronicles. In fact, Ward begins his work with a chapter on “Silence.” Some scholars have depicted the Chronicles as commentating on the seven deadly sins or seven sacraments among many other hypotheses. To my mind, Ward’s treatment of Lewis’s poetry, The Space Trilogy, and his career as a professor of medieval literature suggests a different view—one for which Ward convincingly argues. Other than the Chronicles, Lewis’s poems and science fiction are infused with the flavors of medieval cosmology, though Lewis never explicitly acknowledges medieval cosmology as a motivation for his writings. However, there may be a carefully crafted reason for this pregnant silence.

As Ward draws out,

“secrecy and polysemy were important features of the literature of that period [the Middle Ages]” (19).

With this in view, it is valid that Lewis’s medieval mind necessitates his silence on the deeper inspiration for the Chronicles. This might explain the shrouded theological themes and use of Aslan in the Chronicles; God appeared in medieval allegories frequently but always incognito (19).  For Lewis, explicitly stating the greater meaning of his writings and leaving nothing to be desired would have contradicted the basis on which he included the greater meaning. Ward posits that although Lewis never attributes his structuring of the Chronicles to medieval cosmology, his silence on the matter was actually confirmation of this theory because mystery was a hallmark of the medieval mind—something Lewis consistently exhibited as a Professor of Medieval and Renaissance Literature.

Additionally, I was struck by the intricacies of Lewis’s use of medieval cosmology in the Chronicles. Ward highlights how even the characteristic metals of each planet contributes to the overarching theme of its respective Chronicle. For example, gold is the metal of Sol and is perceived in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader through its mention of lavish riches and a pool that turns objects to gold. Why did Lewis take such great care to weave these intricate details into the Chronicles, assuming Ward’s theory is correct and each book portrays a corresponding medieval planet? Lewis answers our question himself":

He once wrote,

“Intricacy is the mark of the medieval mind” (SMRL 117).

For Ward, Lewis’s infusion of the respective planetary metals along with other intricate references to medieval cosmology in the Chronicles is a manifestation of his medieval mind and additional proof that the Chronicles may have a medieval cosmological pattern to them.

In this same vein, the third insight I want to distill from Ward’s work is Lewis’s distinction between Contemplation and Enjoyment. In his short essay, “Meditation in a Toolshed,” Lewis distinguishes between “looking along” and “looking at.” Enjoyment could rightly be called “looking along” because it is a participant, inhabited, personal knowledge while “looking at” is deemed Contemplation because of its abstract, external, and impersonal epistemology. With this in view, Ward posits that if Lewis wrote his stories primarily to be enjoyed, it makes sense that the “atmosphere” of a story is all but invisible (18).

Hence, Lewis once wrote in a letter to Arthur Greeves ,

“You will like the main gist of the story even less when you grasp it—if you ever do, for as is proper in romance, the inner meaning is carefully hidden.”

If Ward’s thesis is correct, perhaps Lewis’s goal in writing the Chronicles was that readers inhabit a particular medieval planet almost subconsciously so they might enjoy it to the fullest.

To this end, I want to reflect on a piece of vocabulary I have gained from this reading. Ward posits “donegality” as the technical term for

“the spiritual essence or quiddity of a work of art as intended by the artist and inhabited unconsciously by the reader” (75).

In light of the task of Ward’s book, this is a helpful word to describe the phenomenon at work in the Chronicles. Ward chose this word because Donegal was a particularly loved place in Ireland by Lewis and he imagined the etymology of the word to be particularly helpful: don (presiding intelligence) + egalite (equality) (75). Roughly, “donegality” would yield “something equal to a presiding intelligence.” Recall our discussion on “looking at” versus “looking along.” By “looking along” or contemplating the aura of a planet, one is subconsciously immersed in the mood of the planet as intended by the author. This is donegality and what Lewis does in his structuring of the Chronicles. Indeed, donegality is a helpful term for something that cannot quite be put into words.

In summary, Michael Ward’s Planet Narnia: The Seven Heavens in the Imagination of C.S. Lewis has forever enriched my reading of the literary works of C.S. Lewis, especially The Chronicles of Narnia. Lewis’s imagination—vast and vivid—brings the medieval planets to life in theologically rich ways. I think Ward’s literary criticism is extremely thorough and leaves little to be desired. In reading Lewis, attentiveness to his medieval mind is essential to entering the the world he intended for the reader. It is fair to ask if Lewis would be thrilled or disappointed that we have (maybe) cracked the “Narnia code.” Does our awareness take away from his will for readers to “look along” and enjoy his works? I am not sure if I will ever be able to replicate the childlike wonder of reading the Chronicles for the first time. However, as an aspiring medievalist, understanding Lewis’s medieval mind has enriched my reading of his works. I will be re-reading the Chronicles for a class in the next few weeks and I’m grateful to have read Planet Narnia beforehand.

Do you think Ward’s argument is compelling? How do you think Lewis might feel about the task of Planet Narnia?

Carpenter, Humphrey. The Inklings: C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Charles Williams, and Their Friends. Houghton Mifflin, 1979.

Lewis, C. S. “Meditation in a Toolshed.” God in the Dock : Essays on Theology and Ethics. Edited by Walter Hooper, Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1970.

Lewis, C. S. Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature. Edited by Walter Hooper, Cambridge University Press, 1966.

Lewis, C.S. The Chronicles of Narnia. Scholastic Inc. 1995.

Lewis, C. S. et al. They Stand Together : The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves. Macmillan Publishing Company, 1979.

Ward, Michael. Planet Narnia: The Seven Heavens in the Imagination of C.S. Lewis. Oxford University Press, 2008.