Iwatched Narnia last week. It’s good, a fantasy in the style of Lord of the Rings. I often

cry at movies. I cry when the long lost lovers find each other, when the disease is conquered, or when the gleaming pin point finally flickers at the end of the tunnel.

This time I found myself crying not from joy but sorrow, at a rite of manhood where an innocent child is turned into a killer. Oh, he was the hero, so while I cried for children whose innocence is stolen by fear and hate, others cheered for the triumph of good over evil.

There are four children in the movie. One is seduced by the bad side and the other three by the good side. One is exposed to beliefs of greed and power, the others to beliefs of freedom and cooperation. But both sides see only violence and struggle as the means to achieve goals.

Narnia was written in the shadow of World War II, which is when I grew up. A deep part of me resonates with the strong demarcations of good and evil, and the clear representations of how they’re portrayed. In my growing up there were obvious good guys and the obvious bad guys.

In the movie, the evil wolves were dark mangy snarling creatures that looked down their exaggeratedly long noses with angry gleaming eyes. The bad guy armies were populated with old, one-eyed, bald monsters, their fat, gnarly war clubs grasped in misshapen hands. The bad guy leaders were minotaurs: flesh eating creatures with bull’s heads on men’s bodies, pain and hate emanating from their black eyes. One could read in the faces of the bad guys that they knew they were fighting for greed and power.

In contrast, the good guys were centaurs: men with sleek horses’ bodies, proud, fierce, determined, with muscles glistening and swords shining. Our beautiful young heroine’s arrows were swift and straight. They knew they were fighting for freedom and justice.

I guess I was crying for a myth never true.

Somehow the cruel Nazis of my youth have now become good guys and those swarming

yellow slant eyed ants from the

east have turned slender and exotic. I’ve modified my picture so I now believe the good people of those countries were fooled by their evil governments.

I wonder if those being bombed in Arabia today have the same picture of me. In their eyes am I a hook-nosed heavy browed Neanderthallike thug? Or is the best I can hope for that they believe the evil government to my south has fooled its people and their allies.

Into the late 19th century Richard the Lionhearted was the bogeyman of the Arabic world he’d invaded. Mothers would threaten unruly children with the admonition “King Richard will get you”.