We were watching The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe on the road yesterday. When the Pevensies were boarding the train, I found myself crying. I can’t remember ever crying at that part before. I didn’t want to watch anymore.
And now, I just put down Castaways of the Flying Dutchman, because I was crying a little again, and I realized that it’s the same sort of sadness. I’ve always had this love-hate relationship with the Castaways series, even after Voyage of Slaves… actually, especially after Voyage of Slaves, just because I’m silly and romantic like that and hence rather indignant on Amy’s behalf =)
But I digress. That’s not what I meant to blog about. What I wanted to blog about was… this revelation that I had the first time I read Castaways, that I’ve never really felt any need to attempt to articulate. You know how you come to understand a concept, but only years later see how it is applied to one’s life? When I read Castaways in middle or junior high school, whatever it was, I understood why anyone would be foolish to want to live forever in this bent and broken world. But I think it is only now, within the past year or two, that I have become conscious of the fact that I certainly do not want to live forever in this world. The story of Ned and Ben is a fascinating read, but I do not envy them their fate. I think in general, we all love to read a good book and put ourselves in the shoes of the hero – or the damsel in distress that gets saved by him =) But the Castaways series is an exception. I would never want to be Ben. I cried because I cannot imagine being in his position, and I cried out of praise and thanks to God that neither I nor anyone I love will suffer such a command as Ben and Ned did. “Only the good die young…” Not at all true, of course, but I cannot help thinking, better to die young than to be made to endure this world for eternity.
And of course, such sentiments do not prevent me from anxiously awaiting book 4 of the Castaways series, if indeed such a book is ever to come into being.