The refreshment of the spirit.

In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Lucy Pevensie, after various trying events, such as falling through a magic picture into the Narnian ocean, encountering invisible enemies, sea serpents and being sold (briefly) as a slave ends up in the scary magician’s secret room with a book of spells.  What’s she’s looking for (and eventually finds) is a spell to make the invisible Dufflepuds visible but on the way comes across a spell for The refreshment of the spirit.  

I’ll be honest here; if I was asked what would refresh the spirit, I’d immediately think of a tall glass of something alcoholic with ice cubes in it, the sort of holiday that comes at the end of aeroplane journeys or, if I was being healthy, a bracing walk.  What CS Lewis comes up with is a story, the best story Lucy’s ever read and, while she’s reading it, she gets totally drawn in, so the story become real, and she’s completely refreshed.

I hope we’ve all had that sort of experience and – I’ve got to hand it to Lewis here – that absolutely is the caterpillar’s boots, as Lord Peter Wimsey said. Stories, whether printed or in ebook form, can completely refresh the spirit.  I remember ages ago reading one of those old green-and-white penguin classic crime paperbacks which had a defensive little message on the back.  “Detective stories,” it said (I’m quoting from memory here) “are enjoyed by many of our greatest minds and leading men as a relaxation after the cares and troubles of the day”.  While one part of me is muttering “patronizing gits,” another would like to point out that if you happen to be one our greatest minds and leading men (or women – I’m not fussy!) I have an excellent series of detective stories featuring Jack Haldean available elsewhere on the website or from, as they say, all good bookshops.  And Kindle.

Well, I needed some refreshment of the spirit this week.  As Marvin the paranoid android said, “Life!  Don’t talk to me about life!” and, amongst the various crumpled leaves in my bed of roses, was the fact that about the last four or five books I’d read had been complete pants. So I tried my own spell for The refreshment of the spirit and pitched on Terry Pratchett’s wonderful Witches books, starring Granny Weatherwax, Nanny Ogg and Magrat Garlick.  Wyrd Sisters, Witches Abroad and Lords and Ladies.  The redoubtable threesome crop up in many other books, of course, but what a sequence!  Do yourself a favour and read them.  I sometimes think it’s a shame that Terry Pratchett’s got such a reputation for being funny.  Yes, of course he’s funny, but he’s so much else as well.  And I love the way he bounces folklore around, like a shuttlecock at a badminton game.  Elves, for instances.  Tolkien was far too reverential about elves and gave Legolas far too much poetry. I prefer Terry Pratchett’s elves:

“Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.
Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have changed their meaning.
No one ever said elves are nice.
Elves are bad.”

Wow!