Escaping to Narnia

Escaping to Narnia

Sitting behind the bar at Blue Flames Cabaret, I was rereading the Chronicles of Narnia for what might have very well been the one-hundredth time. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. As always, there was loud rap music blaring over the speakers while men sat and stared as a young girl twirled around the pole. The air was filled with the dominant aroma of alcohol, cigars, cigarettes, and cannabis that it seemed just about every patron in the bar, aside from me, seemed to enjoy. No matter how many years of being around the aromas, I never could get used to those smells; I cringed and held my nose every time a strong gust would make its way up my nostrils and linger there as if knowing I despised the fragrance. The dancers would pass by the bar every now and then to say hi and leave me a tip and then go off and search for the next customer to offer up a table dance. It was on that night, sitting behind the bar waiting to serve the next customer that I realized my love for the book. Of all the books that were at the bar, in my house or even in my memory of ever having read, it was this book that had the most profound effect on my life.

It was in the year 1988 that I was first introduced to the book. I was seven years of age and as a young child growing up in a broken home with 3 siblings, 2 brothers and 1 sister, there wasn’t much to do except find ways to get ourselves in trouble by the time our mother got home from work. I was the black sheep out of the four, preferring to stay in my room by myself and play with my toys rather than roughhouse with my siblings. My mother always made sure to

blame my sister and me the most for anything that was done, or wasn’t done, while she was at work. Favoring the boys over the girls was a family tradition. So when my mother had given my sister and me a book to read, I was more curious as to why she did it than about the book itself. Of course I thanked her and went to my room and skimmed through the book trying to find something that would interest me. At that time, I had no interest in reading, so I put the book away and began playing with my toys. Weeks later my mother showed us a movie that she recorded on the VCR from PBS. I was intrigued to hear that it was the name of the book that she had given to me: The Chronicles of Narnia. I sat and watched with an interest that seemed to be only reserved to me as my brothers and sisters watched on with a look of mild interest. It took all day to watch the movie, which I think was my mother’s intention, but I sat there with wide eyes soaking up all that the movie had to offer. When the movie finished, I told my mother how much I loved it and ran to my room to pick up the book to start reading. It was amazing; I couldn’t put it down. I realized as I was reading that the book did not match what I had saw in the movie due to the movie starting with The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, whereas the book started as The Magician’s Nephew. I didn’t mind at all for the book was too wonderful to put down. When I finished reading the book, my mother gave me the other six books of the collection. I guess she didn’t want to waste them on us if we weren’t going to even read the first book she had given to us. I loved the other six books as much as I loved the first. With each turn of the page I was so intrigued to keep reading the story. No book or magazine that I had ever read before was able to catch my attention such as these had. From that moment I found my likeness for reading books.

As the years went by I read many more books, mostly fantasy. Some grabbed me from the first chapter and some couldn’t keep my interest long enough for me to get half way through them. Whenever there was a book that bored me, I would pick up The Chronicles of Narnia and

start to read the series over again. I never got tired of it. Each time I read the series, I would notice something that I hadn’t noticed before. As I grew older I was better able to understand the symbolism of the books and realize that they were based on Christian values. It surprised me because since the age of four, I had no interest in religion whatsoever and here I was with my favorite book being a piece of Christian literature. The books taught me many things when it came to reading and interpreting. They taught me to start reading other books more carefully in order to notice the symbolism that they contain as well. I was even able to start recognizing words I had never used before and if I didn’t know a word, I would just go and look it up in a dictionary. They also taught me to expand my mind and use my imagination while they simultaneously took my mind away from the world when I needed to escape the most. Growing up in my household was horrible if you were a girl. As the years went by, my mother’s anger at my sister and me for being girls seemed to intensify. After my sister left the house, I was subjected to her anger and jealousy over me being my stepfather’s favorite. The only thing I could do was to retreat to my room and read the books that would mentally take me away from my world and put me in the land of Narnia. As I read the pages of the book I could see the world of Aslan in my head as if I was right there beside him walking the grounds of Cair Paravel or sailing the seas to the Lone Islands upon the Dawn Treader. This method of escaping the world would prove to be very beneficial for me throughout my life. From moving to Houston for the first time, to becoming a bartender at a cabaret, being diagnosed with Lupus and going through breakups with boyfriends, I would always turn to reading the books to escape. It was something that others around me noticed, too. At holidays and birthdays, I would be given a different version of the chronicles, sometimes the same copy of one I already had, from loved ones and