“I’m trying to think of a limerick,” said Eustace. “Something like this:

“Some kids who played games about Narnia
Gradually got balmier and balmier.”

“Well Narnia and balmier don’t rhyme, to begin with,” said Lucy.

“It’s an assonance,” said Eustace.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis

Based on my own experience, I strongly suspect that anyone who learned that term in high school literature class can’t help but find themselves happily complicit in Eustace’s moment of snobbery. 😊

Before Eustace was a dragon, he hoarded knowledge. His collection of facts, vocabulary, and modern (realistic) ideas were his source of security, validation, and power. Like the insects he collected, the contents of his factual treasure trove weren’t of much value to him for their own sake. But in the absence of an intimidating physique, Knowing Things and Being Right proved to be useful tools for asserting dominance.

Eustace had an answer for everything.

Until he got swept into a painting and carried off to a magical land—which of course was impossible.

It quickly became apparent that Eustace’s stockpile of knowledge wasn’t going to be much use in Narnia. At least it was apparent to everyone else.

Eustace wasn’t used to the Unknown rampaging through his carefully categorized view of what he thought was reality. So, he tried to force his own filter on the world in front of him and denied whatever didn’t fit into it, with the disastrous conclusions that he was the only one who knew what he was talking about and that large talking mice were “vulgar and sentimental.”

While everyone else was taking in the wonder of the Narnian sea and embracing the exploration of the unknown with joy, Eustace remained miserable, committed to protecting himself by clinging to what he knew.

Thankfully, the Unknown has a way of loosening our grip.

Thank you for reading! This is the first part of a series exploring the value of curiosity through the eyes of Eustace Scrubb from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis.