Narnia and food for thought
Why food and stories go together
My then 8-year-old son was once asked what his hobby was. He didn’t understand the question, so I explained, « a hobby is something you like doing ». « Oh », he replied confidently, « then my hobby is eating ».
That’s why one of the best ways of getting my son’s attention is by giving him something to eat. While he munches, I can talk to him without him being bored (after all, he is doing something he enjoys) or distracted by screens.
Once a week we have two kids over for our Narnia tea. In winter in front of the open fire, in summer outside in the court. I read them one chapter while they drink tea and eat something.
When I was small, I had longingly searched my wardrobe for secret countries. The spark of hope at the idea of getting into another world through a wardrobe and having tea with a faun is what made me, many years later, attach an enveloppe containing a map of Narnia to the back wardrobe wall. I could feel the children’s excitement as I beckoned them to check out the wardrobe. They found the envelope and unfolded the map. Then we sat down to have tea and read a chapter. Thus our adventures in the land of Narnia began.
So far, we’ve read three books and started the fourth. It has become a sort of ritual.
The reading and the food are inseparable. Both are absorbed simultaneously. Food for the stomach, and entertainment for the mind. Beyond pleasure, food is a necessary offering to keep the kids still. Not that that will always work, though — I have learnt to always have something at hand for when they spill tea, or make the table sticky with honey. And many times, I have provided something they can fidget with, to keep their hands busy. Ok, I have 15 minutes of attention. I’d better have eaten before or set aside some biscuits for myself, because nothing will be left at the end of the chapter.
When possible, I try to illustrate the story with objects and special food.
I borrowed a little bell for the episode when Digory hits the magic bell, waking the Witch from an enchanted sleep. Oops. Before they had even listened to one word of the chapter, the kids had shaken the bell a dozen times. Luckily, no real witch woke up, and all they got was a good lesson on patience and caution.
When we came to the chapter when Narnia was created, we celebrated with iced tea in champagne glasses.
I displayed the infamous turkish delight to go with Edmund’s enchantment. As they hesitated, I reassured them, « you can eat them, these are not magic — they won’t enslave you to the White Witch ».
Just as in the story of Narnia, food is effective in many ways.
Food to calm.
Food to grab attention.
Food to make the story come alive.
Food to make allegiance.
As fascinating as the story may be, I am more likely to be listened to if there is food. The story then becomes something to be experienced in a palatable way.
And if my son is anything like his father (whose memory runs on food), indulging in his eating hobby will help him remember the story and possibly, one or two life lessons derived from it.
