The Magician’s Nephew and the Bible: An Intertextual Comparison

When we read The Magician’s Nephew together in class, students soon begin to notice something familiar in the story of Narnia’s creation. As Aslan sings the world into being, the scene often reminds them of another well-known account of creation: the opening chapters of the Bible.

At that point, the conversation in class usually becomes very lively. Students begin pointing out similarities, asking questions, and wondering whether C.S. Lewis had the biblical account in mind when he imagined the birth of Narnia. The parallels are indeed striking, and they naturally lead us to talk about Lewis himself. His Christian faith deeply shaped the imaginative world of The Chronicles of Narnia, and recognizing this background helps students see that stories often grow out of an author’s deepest convictions about reality.

Something similar may already have happened in your classroom when reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. In that novel, the parallels between the figure of Aslan and Christ are so evident that students rarely miss them. It is worth remembering, however, that Lewis did not intend to write an allegory of the Gospel when he composed the book. The Chronicles of Narnia are not allegories in the strict sense of the word, and this distinction itself often becomes a very interesting topic of discussion in class. I discuss this point more fully in this article.

If The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe perhaps offers the most immediate parallel with the figure of Christ, The Magician’s Nephew opens another fascinating perspective: the story of a world coming into being. And it is precisely here that many students begin to recognize surprising echoes of the Genesis account.

Over the years, I have found that exploring these connections can be a very rewarding moment in the classroom. Students begin to notice how stories can echo and illuminate one another across centuries, and how a fantasy novel can enter into conversation with one of the foundational texts of Western culture.

In the following sections, I would like to share a few of the parallels that have generated the most interesting reflections in my classroom.

In the Book of Genesis, creation begins with a word.

The universe comes into existence through divine speech: reality unfolds as God speaks order into the darkness. In The Magician’s Nephew, Lewis imagines a similar moment — yet transforms it in a striking way. Narnia does not begin with a command, but with a song.

At first there is only darkness. Then a voice rises in the emptiness: Aslan’s deep, powerful music. Slowly the sky fills with stars. Finally the sun rises over the newborn land.

The resemblance to Genesis is unmistakable: in both stories, creation begins in darkness and unfolds through sound. Reality emerges not from chaos or conflict, but from an act of meaning.

And yet Lewis adds something distinctly his own. By choosing music rather than speech, he suggests that creation is not only an act of power but also an act of beauty. The world comes into being like a great work of art.

Students often respond strongly to this moment. They begin to ask questions that go beyond the plot itself:

Those are the kinds of questions that can spark deep conversations — the kind I love having with my students.

If you are interested in exploring this scene further in the classroom, you may also find this article useful: The Creation of Narnia in The Magician’s Nephew.

Another fascinating parallel appears later in the story, when Digory enters the walled garden in the western mountains. Here the connection with the biblical narrative becomes particularly suggestive. In Genesis, the first humans live in the Garden of Eden — a place of beauty and harmony, but also a place where they must face a decisive moral choice.

Something similar happens in Narnia.

Digory enters the garden to retrieve the apple that can save his mother, but the Witch tempts him to take the fruit for himself instead. The moment echoes the ancient pattern of temptation: the promise that breaking the command will bring power or knowledge.

What makes this scene especially powerful is Digory’s struggle. Unlike the Witch, who has already chosen selfishness (for a deeper look at her conception of power, see this article), Digory hesitates, reflects, and ultimately decides to obey.

When we discuss this passage in class, students often recognize how Lewis transforms an ancient theme into a deeply personal moment. The key question students ask themselves is simple but powerful: What would I have done if I had been in Digory’s position?

The story becomes not only about a mythical garden, but about the difficult choices that shape a person’s character.

A third point of comparison emerges in the way both narratives portray the role of human beings within the created world.

In Genesis, humanity receives a particular responsibility: to care for and cultivate the earth. Lewis echoes this idea in a subtle but meaningful way through the figure of the Cabby — who later becomes the first king of Narnia. When Aslan entrusts him with this role, the emphasis is not on domination but on stewardship. The Cabby is chosen precisely because he is humble, practical, and accustomed to honest work.

This detail often sparks interesting conversations with students. Lewis seems to suggest that authority over the world should belong not to those who seek power, but to those capable of caring for it.

In my experience, this aspect has always impressed students, because the world around them often seems to tell a different story — that authority is simply a form of power. Many interesting discussions have arisen from this passage of The Magician’s Nephew, and it is definitely a moment worth exploring in class.

To understand why these connections appear so naturally in Lewis’s writing, it helps to remember something about his life.

Before becoming a Christian, C.S. Lewis spent many years as an atheist. His eventual conversion profoundly influenced both his philosophical reflections and his literary imagination.

Yet Lewis repeatedly insisted that the Narnia books were never meant to function as strict allegories. Instead, he described them as a kind of imaginative experiment. In one of his essays he explained:

Within that imagined world, Aslan reflects many qualities associated with Christ — including his role as creator and moral center of the universe. Recognizing this background can help students see how deeply an author’s worldview can shape the stories they create.

Bringing these two narratives into conversation in the classroom can be remarkably fruitful.

In my experience, these discussions can become some of the most engaging moments of the entire unit. Students discover that a fantasy novel they enjoy is also participating in a much older conversation about creation, freedom, and responsibility. 

For teachers looking for ready-to-use material, I have created a comprehensive resource on Teachers Pay Teachers that guides students through these comparisons. The activities include interactive presentations, worksheets, and reflection exercises — all designed for middle school students.

You can explore it here: Intertextual Analysis: Comparing The Magician’s Nephew and the Bible.

I hope this article gives you ideas to bring this comparison to life in your own classroom. And if you try it with your students, I would love to hear how your discussions unfold.

Happy teaching — and happy reading!

Chiara

Still unsure whether The Magician’s Nephew is the right novel for your classroom? In this article I explain the reasons why it consistently resonates with students. Check it out!