Jamin Bradley

The Witch-Queen of Underland always gets my attention in C.S. Lewis’s Narnia book, The Silver Chair. With a little bit of magic, she uses conversation to slowly enchant the protagonists to believe the most ridiculous things: There is no Overland, just the Underland beneath Narnia. There is no sun; you just saw a lantern and imagined it bigger. There is no Aslan; you just saw a cat and imagined it bigger.

The protagonists are lost for words. Every obvious proof they give of the Overworld, the Witch-Queen twists into conspiracy. Every truth that no one has ever questioned (or even thought to question) turns to dust before them, and they no longer know what to believe, needing the Witch-Queen to reteach them the truth of what reality actually is.

This story has felt a little too real over the last few years. Trump has turned good critique into “fake news.” Those who speak out about him are “deranged.” He’s reframed who the good guys and bad guys are. He’s fear-mongered his way back into the oval office. He’s scapegoated all of America’s sins on immigrants. He never owns up to his failures, always blames someone else, and does whatever he can to make himself the hero, even when there is no other way to spin the story. And because he does it so loudly, and with so many absolute adjectives, some go along with it.

It’s not like every last thing Trump does is bad or that he’s never made a good political decision in his career—it’s that a man absent of character and responsibility holds the most power the United States can give because the country bought into the mindset of Underland, where everything is twisted. May our eyes be open and our hearts be clear, which is hard for all of us to do no matter what we believe.