(2) Respect and Power
"Now," said Edmund. Almost the entire crew of the Dawn Treader had gathered on deck to hear the story. Armed with an empty crate of apples to sit upon, and a mug of what Eustace hoped wasn't (but suspected was) something like hard cider (Narnians had a completely uncivilized and lax view of alcohol, in his opinion), Edmund surveyed his audience with a small smile. "This story," Edmund began, "is one in a cycle of tales chronicling Narnia's Golden Age. This particular one was a great favorite among the people, especially in the West of Narnia. They recounted it with reverence and wonder. This story, The Redemption of the King, was also the least favorite at Cair Paravel."
"For good reason," Lucy muttered.
"You see," Edmund continued, "it is my story, a story of two deaths, two lives, and the battle for the heart of a king.
"It is said that the Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve are a confusing and confused race. They are forever wanting what is not good for them, wanting too much of what is good for them (which becomes in itself a bad thing), and find it remarkably easy to ignore Truth, especially if it is right under their noses and they know it. This is especially true for men, whose hearts hunger for respect, for adventure, for accomplishment and the taming and protecting of things and of others. This hunger, if not met, can be turned to resentment and corrupted into a hunger for power –a base and unsatisfying substitute for true respect. This is the fate of many.
This was the fate of Edmund Pevensie."
There was a small hiss of a gasp from the audience at this pronouncement. Edmund took a drink of whatever-it-was that was in his mug and continued the story. "Edmund was a youngest brother, an ignominious position, in his opinion. His two elder siblings, Peter and Susan, were always 'In Charge', always giving instructions and warnings, most of which were along the lines of 'be careful' and 'don't touch that!'. Instead of seeing these instructions as evidence that his siblings loved him and wanted to take care of him, Edmund saw them in light of his own needs –Peter and Susan, he believed, wanted respect and obedience, and didn't particularly care that they treated him without the respect he deserved. After all, he was Lucy's elder brother, which had to count for something.
"Edmund, like all humans, knew truth from lie. In fact, he had a talent for it. He not only could discern verity in words, he could also sense truths in people and their intentions. Unfortunately, Edmund had never learned that an unguarded strength is a double weakness. About his family and himself, Edmund was more likely to believe a lie.
"Edmund saw that Lucy adored Peter, who was a leader and seemed to be good at anything he tried, loved Susan, who charmed strangers and had a talent of knowing exactly what to say and do to make people feel good, and didn't think much of him. Edmund was blind to his sister's love of him, of the brother who had a talent of insight and truth-telling, the one whose wolf-grey eyes could notice tiny details, who had a wry smile, who had taught her how to read, and always had time to play games with her. Edmund could not see her love and respect for him. And so he became resentful. He struck back." Edmund paused for a moment and looked at his audience, especially at Lucy. She seemed to be crying. He sighed and continued.
"Resentment is a ridiculous and dangerous emotion. It is like drinking poison and then waiting for your enemies to die. You wait and you wait but you fail to realize that it is you who is dying, bit by bit, inch by inch. This is what happened to Edmund. He became spiteful, sarcastic, and disobedient. He used his skill with words and his own talent of insight to deny his siblings the respect and love he believed they were withholding from him. The more Edmund did this, the more wary his family became about showing him love, the more suspicious of their affections he became, and the more he denied them respect and love. Edmund was in a cycle of isolation of his own making. He even hated being touched." Edmund paused again, and changed tense. "I remember this, despite my best efforts to forget. I remember it, not because I was miserable, but because I made my family miserable, and shrugged them off when they tried to hug me. Especially you, Lucy. I'm sorry."
"I forgive you," said Lucy, smiling through her tears. "Go on." Edmund heard the unspoken I'm glad you're telling this one now, and nodded.
"So Edmund was caught in this cycle of resentment and isolation of his own making.
Then came boarding school. Of all the places to send a resentful, suspicious, insightful boy, boarding school, where he would be living with several resentful, suspicious boys, had to be the worst. Edmund was soon established as the king of these boys. Before, he had used insight, behavior, and words to disrespect his family, to be a general nuisance, to 'get back' for certain things. At boarding school, he realized he could use his skills as weapons, could wield them, and could gain power.
"Edmund found he rather liked power. His friends (lackeys, really) were in complete awe of him. His enemies (more like victims) feared him. It wasn't the respect he craved. He rather thought power was better. The only things he was afraid of were older, stronger bullies, certain teachers, and the wrath and disappointment in Peter's clear blue eyes, so much a window to his soul. Fear was temporary, Edmund thought. He would show them all, eventually.
"So it was that the Edmund who returned from boarding school was a spiteful, mean, lying, cruel slip of a boy. He took his siblings' best and worst qualities and ridiculed them equally. He teased Lucy, ignored Susan, and snapped at Peter. He was sullen in front of his parents. He did not have the sort of power over them as he had his school fellows, and this bothered him, but he could make them miserable, and he did so.
"He was also afraid. The price of power is fear, and Edmund was no exception. He was afraid of being abandoned by his family, afraid of being hated, and yet he was afraid to be loved, for somewhere, though malnourished, his talent for recognizing Truth still remained, reminding him that all his behavior was based upon a lie. If he admitted the truth of his siblings' love for him, he would have no satisfaction in mistreating them, would gain no power by doing so. Edmund liked power. He kept believing the lie. His desire for respect had become an all-out hunger for power, and this sealed his doom."
Edmund looked around at his audience. "I'd forgotten how long this story was. Perhaps we should continue tomorrow."
There was a small amount of protest, but more cracking of necks that were stiff from sitting still so long.
"A wise decision, Sire," said Drinian, "but by no means popular."
"Tomorrow," said Edmund decisively. "Do not look so long in the face. The rest is worth the wait. Tomorrow."