Inspecting Neil Gaiman's "The Problem of Susan"
A Real Problem With Narnia (Part 2).
In 2004, Neil Gaiman wrote a short story called “The Problem of Susan.” In his introduction to Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders, a collection that included this story, he explained:
“There is so much in the [Narnia] books that I love, but each time I found the disposal of Susan to be intensely problematic and deeply irritating. I suppose I wanted to write a story that would be equally problematic, and just as much of an irritant, if from a different direction, and to talk about the remarkable power of children’s literature” (Gaiman xxiii).
“The Problem of Susan” is about 10 pages long. Susan has grown up to become a professor of children’s literature. A journalist who keeps having strange Narnian-esque dreams arrives at Susan’s house for an interview. The reporter inevitably turns the focus towards Narnia.
In this story, there is about a page-to-two-page-long discussion where, through these two characters, Gaiman airs out his grievances with how C.S. Lewis treated Susan in the last Narnian book, The Last Battle. In my opinion, this is the only worthwhile part of the story. When they finish the discussion, the reporter goes home and dreams another (extremely) twisted dream; she afterwards learns the professor died shortly following their conversation.
For those who don’t know or don’t remember (beware of spoilers) Susan no longer believes that Narnia exists, which causes a rift between her and her siblings. Peter states that Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. In The Last Battle, Lucy, Peter, and Edmund enter a train to find Narnia, and Susan declines so she can go to a party instead. The train crashes, killing everyone in it. The trio Pevensies find themselves in Narnia, where they fight Narnia’s last battle. Only afterwards do they realize they have died, but since Narnia’s last battle has been fought, they are happy to spend their eternity in the joyful aftermath.
Each Narnia book varies in level of allegory and Biblical reference, but The Last Battle is very clearly meant to draw one’s mind to the last battle in Revelation 20-22, where Christ defeats Satan and makes a new Heaven and new Earth.
Susan is excluded.
Speaking through the reporter, Neil raises his complaint: “All the other kids go off to Paradise, and Susan can’t go. She’s no longer a friend of Narnia because she’s too fond of lipsticks and nylons and invitations to parties” (185). Soon after, he insists: “There must have been something else wrong with Susan…something they didn’t tell us. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been [condemned]…I mean, all the people she had ever cared for had gone on to their reward, in a world of magic and waterfalls and joy. And she was left behind” (186).
Gaiman then brings up two points that I hadn’t previously considered: firstly, that ‘nylons and lipsticks’ were probably rare for Susan, who came of age in a wartime era, and secondly, that it must have been terrible to try and identify her siblings from the wreckage.
Gaiman is a well-deservedly respected author, but I cannot help but think that, despite his insights, he has skewed this plight’s focus. Other authors have voiced opinions similar to Gaiman’s. Time and again, readers point out that Lewis condemns Susan for wanting to enjoy feminine things and perhaps even become less chaste in her love life. There is indeed a problem of Susan, but half of Susan’s problem is that she is continually misinterpreted.
Gaiman’s quote about lipsticks and nylons is directly lifted from The Last Battle, when Jill derisively cries, “She’s interested in nothing nowadays except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up” (Lewis).
Susan was praised during her reign in Narnia, and she wasn’t a child for most of those years. Growing up and being ‘grown-up’ must mean two different things.
An aversion to being ‘grown-up’ is a common theme in fantasy, but what I think Lewis touches on in his books is the difference between maturity and societal reputation. Susan fell victim to the latter, filling her mind with an idea of respectability but not prioritizing the qualities that would actually show she had come of age. Lewis also clarified in his letters that he didn’t believe Susan was excluded from Narnia forever. In one of his responses to a reader who asked about Susan, he mentioned:
“I could not write that story myself. Not that I have no hope of Susan’s ever getting to Aslan’s country; but because I have a feeling that the story of her journey would be longer and more like a grown-up novel than I wanted to write. But I may be mistaken. Why not try it yourself?”
Lewis reportedly disliked when critics called his books allegories. He would stress that direct associations were not the same as his representations, and he did not want his books to be seen as complete, direct symbolism. Lewis may not have been very effective in this regard, but despite the thin line between reflection and symbolism in The Chronicles of Narnia, if Susan was an allegory or representation for any kind of person, it was Lewis himself. Lewis was raised in an Anglican church, became an atheist in his teens, and decades later, while working as an English professor in Oxford, converted to Christianity, after numerous theological debates with friend and fellow professor J.R.R. Tolkien.
Lewis’ life mirrored the outline he had for Susan’s. Susan was not a symbol through which to rail against growing up or dating; her falling away from Narnia was meant to rail against regarding appearances as more important than character, and regarding common sense as more important than truth. Susan discarded Narnia because she wanted to be someone in a way that required, in her mind, to lose all of the much grander things that she had once been. Lewis does not condemn Susan for dating or parties. Susan had suitors in Narnia. Susan attended parties in Narnia. Susan was a queen.
Nevertheless, Gaiman’s view continually crops up as a popular interpretation. I am curious to know how much influence “The Problem of Susan” carried in regard to lasting discussion about Narnia. Did he spark new life into the division or did he merely exemplify an already ongoing debate? In the discussions and, yes, fanfictions, I’ve encountered online, any topic regarding Susan during or after The Last Battle, or even heavily studying Susan as a character, uses ‘The Problem of Susan’ as a shorthand. I would be surprised if all of those discussers have actually read Gaiman’s story.
Despite mostly adhering to Lewis’ intentions, I agree with one of Gaiman’s points. Susan’s story is unfinished. Outside of his letters to children, Lewis put away Narnia and Susan when he published The Last Battle. Like the stories of the Pevensies during Narnia’s Golden Age, Susan’s aftermath is badgered by the tantalizing ‘what could be.’
Sources:
Gaiman, Neil. Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders. William Morrow, 2006.
Lewis, C.S. The Last Battle. 1956.