9. I think Reepicheep is a severe adrenaline addict. Lewis might have known someone during the war who had the condition and mistook it's symptoms for bravery. True bravery is not a lust for danger, it is overcoming your fear of danger in order to do what is necessary and right.

9. I think Reepicheep is a severe adrenaline addict. Lewis might have known someone during the war who had the condition and mistook it's symptoms for bravery. True bravery is not a lust for danger, it is overcoming your fear of danger in order to do what is necessary and right.

Would you call all romantics severe adrenalin addicts? People want the heights of passion - adrenalin again - and get it out of a romantic novel. Reepicheep definitely is a romantic. If he read books he would prefer stories like King Arthur and the Knights of the Round table, or the Song of Roland. I don't think bravery is altogether all about overcoming a fear of danger, even if I agree that rashness should not be mistaken for bravery. I was reading about Albert Jacka, who missed out on his due rewards for his own bravery in WW1, because he was brave enough to stand up to his own officers if he thought they were risking his men's lives unnecessarily.

2. What do you think of all the "quotes" and italics Eustace uses in his writing? What does it show about his attitude?

These quotes and italics, usually put into the context of Eustace's opinion of what was happening, show the spin he is putting on what Caspian and others were saying, and his emphasis on what he resents and fears. Mostly he is not about to co-operate with his shipmates, even though he realises the danger everyone is in and how uncomfortable they, too, must be.

3. Is there a change in his diary on days 9, 10 and 11?

Yes there is. Land has been seen, gulls are flying and now there is a change of direction for Eustace. For these three entries he stops harping on his own misery and thinks of something else. He also doesn't have to rely on Lucy's sympathy to get extra water, and fresh fish is on the menu.

Would you call all romantics severe adrenalin addicts? People want the heights of passion - adrenalin again - and get it out of a romantic novel.

There's a big difference between the adrenaline rush of reading a romantic novel and the rush of facing death. It's like the difference between having one glass of wine with dinner versus drinking until you pass out, to draw a comparison with a different addictive substance. So, no, I would not call all romantics severe adrenaline addicts, but I would call Reepicheep one.

I was reading about Albert Jacka, who missed out on his due rewards for his own bravery in WW1, because he was brave enough to stand up to his own officers if he thought they were risking his men's lives unnecessarily.

An interesting example, partly because cases of true heroism always are, but also because Albert Jacka makes a striking contrast to Reepicheep. There are countless examples of Reepicheep wanting to take unnecessary or even completely pointless risks with his own or other people's lives. Had he been working with Albert Jacka, he would have been disgusted with Jacka's "poltroonery."

There's a big difference between the adrenaline rush of reading a romantic novel and the rush of facing death. It's like the difference between having one glass of wine with dinner versus drinking until you pass out, to draw a comparison with a different addictive substance. So, no, I would not call all romantics severe adrenaline addicts, but I would call Reepicheep one.

Possibly, until you remember that mice - and Reepicheep still is a mouse - might see things differently to a human. The normal mouse isn't noted for courage at all, though it might take both courage and rat cunning for a mouse to survive. And with much of the carnivorous animal world making a meal of mice, life is short and death is commonplace. Adrenalin is the hormone involved in fight and flight, and until a mouse is cornered, flight is the preferred choice.

Reepicheep is proud, even vain-glorious, as Aslan has already noted in PC. Timidity (cowardice or poltroonery) is something he takes great pains to disassociate himself from, and what he despises most. And he has so far had great reward from his ability to defend himself. I'd agree with you more if Reepicheep was more aggressive than he appeared in the books, but I think his payoff isn't an adrenalin rush, but probably something else. It must look good for any lady friends he might have, for instance, that he is so adept at defending himself. No wonder he is the chief mouse.

An interesting example, partly because cases of true heroism always are, but also because Albert Jacka makes a striking contrast to Reepicheep. There are countless examples of Reepicheep wanting to take unnecessary or even completely pointless risks with his own or other people's lives. Had he been working with Albert Jacka, he would have been disgusted with Jacka's "poltroonery."

Not necessarily, as we may see further on. He generally does as Caspian tells him, accepting that Caspian is his king, or superior officer. Unlike Jacka who, being an Australian in WW1, wasn't necessarily a fan of superior officers, particularly UK-born superior officers. As both his Wikipedia article and the print Daily Telegraph article I read do show.

6. How accurate do you think Eustace's portrayal of his thoughts, motives, and actions in the water incident is?

I do think his recollections are all too accurate, and that in his recounting of what happened in the water incident, he was making excuses for his behaviour. Caspian did take pity on Eustace as an unwilling guest. But Eustace dismisses his concern as being patronising. Afterwards he bunkered down, in his bunk, with his only visitor being Lucy.

7. Do you agree with Eustace or Caspian about going ashore at night? Why?

Caspian. Eustace was talking out of a desire to get away from the Dawn Treader, but Caspian has to be responsible for everyone on board. It is called Duty of Care.
In daylight there is less problem about seeing danger or of keeping track of people. Or in finding possible supplies, come to think about it.

8. What about the island makes it a place that would be pretty in a picture but oppressive in real life?

Mountainous islands can look attractive in a picture, particularly if snow-capped. It is a different story when in real life one has to cross them. But maybe this might give you an idea of what C.S.Lewis might have meant. In 1788, a fleet of 11 ships formed a settlement at a place called Port Jackson. Watkin Tench, one of this party's officers, penetrated the hinterland as far as the Nepean River a couple of years later. Across this river were the foothills of the Blue Mountains, a section of the Great Dividing Range which stretches from the tip of Australia to the Mount Lofty ranges in South Australia. Eventually the mountains were crossed, but not until 1813, despite many attempts. The growing environs of Sydney by that time were being hemmed in and their settlers needed to get past these mountains. If you ever saw them in real life, they might indeed look oppressive, if you look away from the settled bits and traffic-laden roads that are there now. But on calendars and when away from home, they do look picturesque.

10. Edmund had to explain to Eustace what getting "two dozen" meant because it was in the sort of book that Edmund would have read, but not what Eustace had read. What sort of books do you think the Pevensie children read? How might they differ from Eustace's reading choices?

It was established when we first met him that Eustace preferred reading non-fiction books, on geography and economics. Probably science as well. And from his references to the British consul, to lodging a disposition, he seems to know a thing or two about the law and even politics - such as when he said he was a republican (as opposed to monarchy).

It stands to reason that the sorts of books the Pevensies read for relaxation were more likely to be fiction. Not only fairy tales but adventures, detective novels and boarding school yarns. Three of these types of books would certainly explain what "six of the best" might mean. Even classical literature and UK history would certainly have informed Eustace of what Caspian meant by "six of the best", as the British Navy of Samuel Pepys, Horatio Nelson and Captain Cook was noted for its strict discipline.

By the way, do you agree with what C.S. Lewis is suggesting repeatedly, so far, in this book, that you can tell a lot about people by what sorts of books they choose to read?

By the way, do you agree with what C.S. Lewis is suggesting repeatedly, so far, in this book, that you can tell a lot about people by what sorts of books they choose to read?

Yes, I do agree. If nothing else you can learn something about their likes.

1. This chapter is full of contrasts. How Lucy feels onboard at the start of the chapter, what it's like in the storm, and Eustace's views about it. Which contrasts do you notice most?
The yellow sunset cutting through the clouds.
2. What do you think of all the "quotes" and italics Eustace uses in his writing? What does it show about his attitude?
I like the emotion the italics add. The italics can be used to show emphasis (not at all well), sarcasm (Pleasant to be embarked), or disgust (not even an attempt). The quotes seem to indicate things people said.

3. Is there a change in his diary on days 9, 10 and 11?
There aren’t any italics. He focuses a bit more on events. He only complains once.

4. In what ways can we see a change in Eustace?
He is very determined to climb to get to a suitable place to rest. He has started to feel lonely.

5. Do you feel any sympathy for Eustace in this chapter?
If I think long enough I am able to manage a little sympathy for him on the island when he is panicking because he thinks the others will leave and then gets lost trying to find his way back. Otherwise, no. The attitude he expresses in his journal effectively kills any feelings of sympathy I might feel for him due to the lack of water and food.

6. How accurate do you think Eustace's portrayal of his thoughts, motives, and actions in the water incident is?
I believe that he felt feverish. I have a hard time believing that he always tries to consider others. His enjoyment of tormenting his cousins seems to go against that. He is trying very hard to show that he was not to blame in the incident. How much of it he believes himself, I don’t know.

7. Do you agree with Eustace or Caspian about going ashore at night? Why?
Caspian it is better to be able to see any threats. I imagine Caspian didn’t want a repeat of the Lone Islands.

8. What about the island makes it a place that would be pretty in a picture but oppressive in real life?
Cliffs and crags would be nice to look at but hard to navigate through. Waterfalls would also make navigation difficult.

9. Reepicheep's "mind was full of forlorn hopes, death-or-glory charges, and last stands". What do you think this tells us about Reepicheep?
He very much a knight. He loves adventure and fighting for what is right.

10. Edmund had to explain to Eustace what getting "two dozen" meant because it was in the sort of book that Edmund would have read, but not what Eustace had read. What sort of books do you think the Pevensie children read? How might they differ from Eustace's reading choices?
Treasure Island comes to mind. I think they read adventure books and legends (such as stories about King Arthur and about Robin Hood). They probably read fairy tales as well at least when they were younger. Eustace’s reading choices would be mostly non-fiction.

1. This chapter is full of contrasts. How Lucy feels onboard at the start of the chapter, what it's like in the storm, and Eustace's views about it. Which contrasts do you notice most?
Once again it is the contrast in colours that illustrates the change--the golden warmth, followed by dark cold.

2. What do you think of all the "quotes" and italics Eustace uses in his writing? What does it show about his attitude?
Why, it shows what a sensitive fellow he is, and his noble and forbearing attitude towards "those beasts!"

3. Is there a change in his diary on days 9, 10 and 11?
Much briefer, and strictly fact--he dropped most of the sneering and complaining. Was he too worn out with everything combined, or was his imagination starting to run low? It's almost too bad that we don't get any more journal entries, though I can see why it is so.

4. In what ways can we see a change in Eustace?
He evidently is beginning to accept the reality of the situation, even if he still doesn't like being there. He seems a bit more subdued, particularly after the water incident. Makes one wonder: does Eustace actually find it worse during the storm? It's hard to tell--we're so used to him complaining, that it all sounds the same.

5. Do you feel any sympathy for Eustace in this chapter?
Why bother? He has enough sympathy for himself, and to spare. On the other hand, I do feel sorry for him, since he is making himself miserable by his own bad attitude. But then he wants to be miserable, so why bother wasting sympathy?

6. How accurate do you think Eustace's portrayal of his thoughts, motives, and actions in the water incident is?
In some ways, he is just as deluded about his own merits as ever. The frightening thing is that he believes he is telling the truth, that he is noble and forbearing and considerate. Or was he beginning to feel the slightest bit ashamed of himself?

7. Do you agree with Eustace or Caspian about going ashore at night? Why?
After that many days, first with the storm and then with the calm, it is not surprising that Eustace would be anxious to get ashore. However, it would appear that Caspian had learned something after their experiences on Felimath.

8. What about the island makes it a place that would be pretty in a picture but oppressive in real life?
Terribly hard to get around on, with all those cliffs; no settlements of fellow humans, hostile or otherwise, no arable land to support such settlements, and apparently, very little wildlife.
(That's interesting, wagga, about crossing the Blue Mountains. Only a few days ago I was reading an account of those explorations, from a book published in 1890)

9. Reepicheep's "mind was full of forlorn hopes, death-or-glory charges, and last stands". What do you think this tells us about Reepicheep?
A knight of chivalry, was Reepicheep, and a romantic, in the old sense of the word. While a bit touchy about his honour, I don't ever get the impression that he was violent (except perhaps with the slavers); he would tend to take the side of the underdog in a fight, even if it meant being defeated. Even in his own particular quest, he tackled it in the same spirit of forthrightness that characterized every action.

10. Edmund had to explain to Eustace what getting "two dozen" meant because it was in the sort of book that Edmund would have read, but not what Eustace had read. What sort of books do you think the Pevensie children read? How might they differ from Eustace's reading choices?
I wonder how many people nowadays would need that phrase explained?

By the way, do you agree with what C.S. Lewis is suggesting repeatedly, so far, in this book, that you can tell a lot about people by what sorts of books they choose to read?

He does seem to like that theme, doesn't he? I wonder if someone had been bothering him at the time about the need to read only high-brow, important books. You know, the fairy tale quote.
Certainly, the Pevensies would have read E. Nesbit, a most enlightening authoress. I don't doubt that they also read non-fiction--anything that interested them, in fact. Both of your lists of books seem likely, wagga and Twigs.