“When I read Here, There Be Dragons, I thought I’ve read all there is to know about fantasy. But yet perhaps, I am glad to say that this is one of the rare books that has tingled my spine and has kept my skin hair standing in the past four days that I’ve read it.
There are few books today that push our imagination to unseen heights. It’s not the feeling of the otherworldliness that most fantasy literature today exhibit, but it’s more on the real depth of the story, the depth of meaning and significance that gives color to the qualities that the fantasy story boasts.
Here, There Be Dragons was written by James A. Owen, a writer who has yet again ventured the next logical step in fantasy literature—that is, to include the great fantasy writers in one’s own fantasy story. Owen was brave enough to include some in his cast of characters, the three giants that made up the Inklings: C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Charles Williams. Any reader would say that the whole thing was such a daring task. For many Inkling purists, it would indeed be irreverence to the late writers. Yet perhaps an amateur writer can surprise us all.
The book is part of a fantasy series entitled The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica (the book came out on October 2006), the premise of the book being that anything that happens in the world of dreams affects the real world. The Imaginarium Geographica is of special importance in the whole story, being that of a map which can guide a navigator to the Archipelago of Dreams, a whole entire world made up of myths and legends most of us are familiar of in the real world. The Archipelago represents the dreams and hopes of the real world, which is why when a crisis arises in the Archipelago war is sparked in the real world (the story starts at the beginning of World War I). Three strangers—Jack, John and Charles—were then brought together by a murder which involved a certain valuable map (the Imaginarium Geographica), and when an eccentric man named Bert showed up, the three were chosen as the legendary Three Caretakers of the map.
Encountering Greek, Egyptian, and Arthurian myth figures, or faced with a character seemingly familiar (from both The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia), or stumbling into time travel and navigating a dragonship, the story is a colorful tapestry of fantasy with a sense of wildness and unpredictability.
C.S. Lewis in the eyes of the Book
Jack (C.S. Lewis) was portrayed in the book with utmost clarity, especially when it comes to John (J.R.R. Tolkien), which according to the book, was destined to become the Caretaker Principia of the Imaginarium Geographica. Charles (Charles Williams) too was well described. Each of them has qualities of their own, personalities based on the period of life they were facing then.
John, for example, in the book, was struggling with the fact that he thought he was a failure as a Caretaker, bringing the burden of his friends dying in the war and failing in the journey of the said story.
Jack however, is an entire league of his own. He was portrayed as pessimistic in every plan that John makes (Charles consoles John after), and is boastful of his talents especially when it comes to impressing Aven, Bert’s daughter and the captain of the Indigo Dragon. At the near end of the story, Jack fails. But all is not lost when he redeems himself by saving thousands of Shadow-Borns—creatures that were humans once and were so similar to the Ringwraiths of Middle-earth.
Of why this was the author’s treatment to C.S. Lewis, I didn’t know, until I read the following lines where the crew of the Indigo Dragon gazed upon the stars.
“What is that one?” asked John, pointing to the west. “The bright grouping, shaped rather like a tree?”
“Astraeus,” Aven called out. “God of the four winds and friend to sailors. Say a little prayer when you look at him, so he will give us what we need to keep our course.”
“A little prayer?” said Jack. “To a constellation?”
“To what it represents,” said Aven.
“But I don’t believe in what it represents,” said Jack.
“Prayers aren’t for the deity,” said Aven. “They’re for you, to recommit yourself to what you believe.”
In that time of his life, John was an atheist. Maybe that was one of the reasons why I fell in love with the book. Owens wove so much of what Lewis thought he was when Lewis recounted his previous life in his autobiography, Surprised by Joy. He lacked imagination and creativity because he lacked belief.
Somehow I could relate. There is this sickness we geeks tend to cultivate and live out. We become somehow arrogant and know-it-alls. And like Susan of Narnia, we want to grow up fast and when we reached that phony maturity, we want to stay there and be there always. And indeed, the author of the book knew this.
Later on as the story goes, like Edmund in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, we see the man a changed man, willing to continue and redeem himself to what he was destined to become, knowing that his life was saved by someone else’s death.
Lessons to be learned
“Power is a thing earned,” Samaranth said, “not something that may be passed along with the possession of objects like thrones . . . or rings, for that matter.
“Power, true power, comes from the belief in true things, and the willingness to stand behind that belief, even if the universe itself conspires to thwart your plans. Chaos may settle; flames may die; worlds may rise and fall. But true things will remain so, and will never fail to guide you to your goals. Isn’t that so, Master John?”
The form of power in the story, which represents the Map and the Winter King’s obsession to obtain it, is seen all throughout as utter stupidity. Indeed, like the Lord of the Rings, the quest in the story will only be completed when the Imaginarium Geographica (the source of power) is destroyed.
The dragon Samaranth was right, power cannot be passed on, but real power can be gained when we know our limitations, when we know of truth, and when we know that power is not an end in itself. This reminds us of Lord Acton’s warning: “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
Over all, the book attempted to write what others are cautious to write about. Even if it’s a fictional “what if” book, it still is a brave attempt to include the three pioneers of the modern Sci-Fi and Fantasy Literature in one fantasy story. What struck me most was what the Caretakers have gone through, especially Jack being humbled and redeemed, and John, who finally took the responsibility well as the Caretaker Principia, in spite of pitfalls, failures and insurmountable odds. All it took them was imagination, wit, and a burden to bear (talk about holding the fate of all the lands within the Archipelago of Dreams!).
In our own way, seen from the reader’s angle, we are our own Caretakers of dreams. What this fictional story does is to wake us up “to rise to the challenge” and defeat usurpers and help ourselves and others (like Artus) to achieve their destiny. But most of all, the most important thing is to never cease believing. For only when we see the invisible can we do the impossible.
“. . . You are the Caretakers of the lands within it. The Caretakers of the Imagination of the World. And you’ve proven yourselves more than worthy, and more than able.” --Bert
*The book is on its way to filming.”
Francis wrote this review Saturday, December 22 2007.
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