The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Los niños que protagonizan la literatura infantil son, como somos los niños, todos unos glotones. En la narrativa, la comida suele identificarse con un solaz, un descanso en el camino, una cápsula en el tiempo que deja fuera todas las preocupaciones y una vuelta al hogar. Quizá por eso mis recuerdos literarios de aquella época están plagados de olores y comidas: porque así nos atrapaban los escritores, con bocadillos, chocolate caliente y queso fundido. Pero también la glotonería puede traicionarte, seducirte, encantarte como lo haría una mujer fatal. A los adultos se les ensimisma con una bella mujer de neumáticas proporciones que promete habilidades extraterrestres en el arte de la mamada. Ella es el bombón envenenado que encadenará al hombre a la perdición. Está claro que a un niño no se le puede tentar así sin infringir la ley ni aterrorizarle (no me imagino nada menos seductor para un niño que una vampiresa de acento rumano arrastrando las eses) así que hay que apelar a su paladar de niño y tentarle con dulces. Hansel y Gretel es un proverbial ejemplo como lo es la celebérrima manzana de Blancanieves. Y El león, la bruja y el armario es sin duda otro.

La escena más famosa del libro sea probablemente la de las delicia turcas que la bruja blanca concede a Edmund. Si hay algo que represente un cambio de paradigma literario es escuchar a un niño pedir una delicia turca. No una palmera de chocolate, ni un caramelo ni un donut: ¡una delicia turca! Eso debieron pensar los guionistas de la película cuando, se rumorea, estuvieron a punto de cambiar las famosas delicias turcas por hamburguesas. ¿Pero puede haber algo más vulgar? Delicia turca es un nombre maravilloso de resonancias obscenas, delicia turca es algo mordible y lleno de concupiscencia.

The Queen took from somewhere among her wrappings a very small bottle which looked as if it were made of copper. Then, holding out her arm, she let one drop fall from it on the snow beside the sledge. Edmund saw the drop for a second in midair, shining like a diamond. But the moment it touched the snow there was a hissing sound and there stood a jewelled cup full of something that steamed. The dwarf immediately took this and handed it to Edmund with a bow and a smile; not a very nice smile. Edmund felt much better as he began to sip the hot drink. It was something he had never tasted before, very sweet and foamy and creamy, and it warmed him right down to his toes.

"It is dull, Son of Adam, to drink without eating," said the Queen presently. "What would you like best to eat?"

"Turkish Delight, please, your Majesty," said Edmund.

The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle on to the snow, and instantly there appeared a round box, tied with green silk ribbon, which, when opened, turned out to contain several pounds of the best Turkish Delight. Each piece was sweet and light to the very centre and Edmund had never tasted anything more delicious. He was quite warm now, and very comfortable.

While he was eating the Queen kept asking him questions. At first Edmund tried to remember that it is rude to speak with one's mouth full, but soon he forgot about this and thought only of trying to shovel down as much Turkish Delight as he could, and the more he ate the more he wanted to eat, and he never asked himself why the Queen should be so inquisitive. She got him to tell her that he had one brother and two sisters, and that one of his sisters had already been in Narnia and had met a Faun there, and that no one except himself and his brother and his sisters knew anything about Narnia. She seemed especially interested in the fact that there were four of them, and kept on coming back to it. "You are sure there are just four of you?" she asked. "Two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve, neither more nor less?" and Edmund, with his mouth full of Turkish Delight, kept on saying, "Yes, I told you that before," and forgetting to call her "Your Majesty", but she didn't seem to mind now.

At last the Turkish Delight was all finished and Edmund was looking very hard at the empty box and wishing that she would ask him whether he would like some more. Probably the Queen knew quite well what he was thinking; for she knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who had once tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves. But she did not offer him any more.