It is tempting to look here for the origin of such characters as Reepicheep the chivalric Talking Mouse, one of the most successfully developed among the higher animals of Narnia. But when discussing stories made up in childhood and their effect, or otherwise, on those written later, he told Green categorically that none of the characters or adventures in the Narnian stories was drawn from the Animal-Land of his own childhood inventions. The whole spirit of Narnia is different, as he also pointed out in Surprised by Joy: ‘Animal-Land had nothing whatever in common with Narnia except the anthropomorphic beasts. Animal-Land, by its whole quality, excluded the least hint of wonder.’14 ‘In mapping and chronicling Animal-Land I was training myself to be a novelist. Note well, a novelist; not a poet. My invented world was full (for me) of interest, bustle, humour and character; but there was no poetry, even no romance in it. It was almost astonishingly prosaic.’15
Moreover, the Animal-Land that came into action in the holidays when Warnie was at home from his English boarding-school ‘was a modern Animal-Land; it had to have trains and steamships if it was to be a country shared with him. It followed, of course, that the medieval Animal-Land about which I wrote my stories must be the same country at an earlier period; and of course the two periods must be properly connected. This led me from romancing to historiography: I set about writing a full history of Animal-Land.’ History led to geography: the world was remapped with Warnie’s ‘India’ as an island across the sea from Animal-Land, ‘And those parts of that world which we regarded as our own – Animal-Land and India – were increasingly peopled with consistent characters,’16 and came to be known generally as ‘Boxen’.
Many of Lewis’s Boxonian stories have been published as Boxen: The Imaginary World of the Young C.S. Lewis (1985). The best of the stories come from the later period and were written between the ages of twelve and fourteen, when they became novels about minor characters rather than straight ‘histories’. While they show great precocity, there is little evidence of anything else and hardly any foreshadowing of what was to come: they are interesting as the earliest works of C.S. Lewis, and dull compared to his later writings. This is largely due to the careful banishment of poetic, romantic and imaginative elements and to the extra- ordinary absorption with politics. This has been explained by Warnie Lewis in his ‘Memoir’ accompanying the Letters of C.S. Lewis: here he describes the continuous political discussions current in Ireland at the time, mainly diatribes against the government of the day between men of the same political persuasions – and vituperative and unexplained condemnation of all who differed from them in politics or religion. Warnie concludes:
Any ordinary parent would have sent us boys off to amuse ourselves elsewhere when one of these symposiums took place, but not my father; he would have thought it uncivil to the guest. Consequently we had to sit in silence while the torrent of vituperation flowed over our heads. The result in Jack’s case was to convince him firstly that ‘grown-up’ conversation and politics were one and the same thing, and that therefore he must give everything he wrote a political framework; and secondly to disgust him with the very word ‘politics’ before he was out of his teens.17
Moreover, although the Boxonian characters are ‘dressed animals’, there is no attempt to keep up the fiction, and without the illustrations it would often be hard to remember that, for example, Lord John Big is a frog, James Bar a bear, Macgoullah a horse, and Viscount Puddiphat an owl. And unfortunately few of the early stories of ‘knights-in-armour’ (even if the knights were dressed animals) have survived, though there are a few early attempts at verse concerning ‘Knights and Ladyes’.
‘In mapping and chronicling Animal-Land,’ said Lewis, ‘I was training myself to be a novelist … but there was no poetry, even no romance in it.’18 At the same time he had an inner life, invisible to all but himself, that was highly imaginative. Shortly after the family moved to Little Lea he had three experiences which initiated ‘the central story’19 of his life. In Surprised by Joy he told how one day, as he was standing beside a flowering currant bush, there arose in him the ‘memory of a memory’ of a day in Dundela Villas when Warnie brought his toy garden into the nursery. ‘It is difficult’, he said, ‘to find words strong enough for the sensation which came over me; Milton’s “enormous bliss” of Eden … comes somewhere near it.’20 It was, he went on, ‘a sensation of desire’, but before he knew what he desired ‘the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased’.21
A second ‘glimpse’ came through Beatrix Potter’s Squirrel Nutkin which, he said, ‘troubled me with what I can only describe as the Idea of Autumn’.22 A third glimpse came through a few lines of Longfellow’s translation of Esaias Tegner’s version (1825) of Drapa:
I heard a voice, that cried,
‘Balder the Beautiful
Is dead, is dead!’
And through the misty air
Passed like the mournful cry
Of sunward sailing cranes.
‘I knew nothing about Balder,’ said Lewis, ‘but instantly I was uplifted into huge regions of northern sky, I desired with almost sickening intensity something never to be described (except that it is cold, spacious, severe, pale, and remote) and then, as in the other examples, found myself at the very same moment already falling out of that desire and wishing I were back in it.’23 The three experiences had in common, he said, ‘an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy … It might almost equally well be called a particular kind of unhappiness or grief. But then it is a kind we want.’24
Meanwhile his outward life went on more or less as usual. Warnie departed to Wynyard School in England, while Jack was taught at Little Lea by a governess, Miss Annie Harper: ‘She is fairly nice for a governess, but all of them are the same,’25 he confided to his first diary at the end of 1907, in which he describes himself as ‘like most boys of nine, and I am like Papy, bad temper, thick lips, thin and generally wearing a jersey’.26
Other diary scraps describe the rest of the household: his grandfather, Richard Lewis, ‘who lives in a little room of his own upstairs’;