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Publication city: Moscow
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ISBN: 978-5-699-44892-0 The size: 2 MB





Book Description

Power in Narnia is seized by an impostor, and the last king gathers the small army devoted to him for the last battle. Gil and Eustace are ready to help King Tyrian restore peace to the blessed land.

Will the army, fighting in the name of good and life, be able to keep the light in the gathering darkness?

Last impression of the book

• White_owl:
• 16-03-2015, 10:22

It is no longer possible to treat the Chronicles as a fairy tale. "God is where you can see him." The last book is so different from the rest of the series that it's even surprising.

The religious conception of Narnia, which has been gaining momentum since the first story, here has reached some kind of monstrous apogee. It's monstrous. It no longer looks like an instructive adventure children's fairy tale. More like a book of religious philosophy, stylized for younger readers. It's sad that the Chronicles ended like this. Not because of the "end of the world", but because of the feeling that Lewis.K. This book was written in haste. And although the story of rainbow memories will not leave me with, few people have been able to create something as beautiful as Narnia. But something happened that usually happens with the last books of long cycles. And a couple of words about the technical plot points. I was the only one who was embarrassed by the constant conversations about food and reminders-justifications that "we don't eat those who say something, only ordinary animals"? I understand that the author puts an obvious meaning in endowing animals and birds with speech. But then I can’t decide for myself which one to consider Narnia: fabulously utopian or cruel and ruthless, like neighboring Tarchistan, only covered with valor and strange nobility. I think I will return to the Chronicles when I am able to understand something that I still do not understand now.

A beautiful story about courage, honor, valor and friendship. The Chronicles of Narnia is a series of novels for children and adults that are easy to read and quickly remembered. 200-odd pages flew by unnoticed. And what was my disappointment when the old favorite Narnia was gone (until I read it to the end and found out that ... read it yourself). But really, Narnia for me became some kind of world, in which, like the kings and queens of this country, it was pleasant to return. New adventures, events, new acquaintances and friends - this is what new journeys into magic are like. It's nice that in the last part everyone gathered again. Yes, we often do not see what is really there. Wow - Narnia within Narnia, England within England. A lot of emotions, and regrets that the story is over. Somehow we became related with the Narnians, brothers and sisters, with Aslan.

Narnia is a charming country. In which dryads, fauns, unicorns, nymphs, centaurs, gnomes and, of course, talking animals live. Everyone lives in peace and harmony, the world is ruled by love, friendship, respect. But from time to time, evil comes to Narnia, with which children from our world are fighting (with the exception of one book). And it's wonderful and interesting. But one BUT arises, why in a world that was conceived as pure from evil, this evil appears. In The Magician's Nephew, Aslan told Digory that it was because he brought the evil Witch to Narnia. In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy defeat this evil Witch, but the evil remains. Probably, good without evil is not possible. Or maybe because next to the kindest Narnia, Aslan created other less kind countries.
These thoughts overcame me until I read The Last Battle, which disappointed me greatly. For some reason, I involuntarily remembered Harry Potter, which by the end turned into a massacre. Here it turned out about the same, only not so bloody. When I read the book, I was disgusted. And because of this, it's a shame ... Such a beautiful series and such a sad end. Where a donkey dressed as a lion rules, and the animals believe it and the monkey runs it all, where "gnomes for the sake of gnomes" (c), where talking animals (not all) turn away from their king and Aslan, where they made a silly girl out of Queen Susan the Magnanimous, obsessed with her appearance. It was extremely unpleasant for me to read all this. And all this in order to end up with that Narnia that Aslan originally conceived and actually already had. Nonsense ... The only thing I liked about this book was a meeting with Peter, Edmund, Lucy, Reepicheep, Mr. Tumnus and others)) I rate the entire series of books on.The rating is solely for this book.

The Last Battle is the final book in the Chronicles of Narnia series.
Lewis, by a strong-willed decision, draws a line under everything written earlier, destroying the world.
However, Narnia does not disappear; in fact, it was only a copy of another world - a more sublime one.
In that world live everyone who is somehow involved in the several millennia that this country has existed.
The apocalypse happened... the worthy went to Aslan's world, the unworthy disappeared along with Tash.

Books enlighten the soul, uplift and strengthen a person, awaken the best aspirations in him, sharpen his mind and soften his heart.

William Thackeray, English satirist

The book is a great power.

Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, Soviet revolutionary

Without books, we now can neither live, nor fight, nor suffer, nor rejoice and win, nor confidently move towards that reasonable and wonderful future in which we unshakably believe.

Many thousands of years ago, in the hands of the best representatives of mankind, the book became one of the main weapons of their struggle for truth and justice, and it was this weapon that gave these people terrible strength.

Nikolai Rubakin, Russian bibliologist, bibliographer.

The book is a tool. But not only. It introduces people to the life and struggle of other people, makes it possible to understand their experiences, their thoughts, their aspirations; it makes it possible to compare, understand the environment and transform it.

Stanislav Strumilin, Academician of the USSR Academy of Sciences

There is no better remedy for refreshing the mind than reading the ancient classics; as soon as you take one of them in your hands, even if for half an hour, you immediately feel refreshed, lightened and cleansed, uplifted and strengthened, as if refreshed by bathing in a pure spring.

Arthur Schopenhauer, German philosopher

Those who were not familiar with the creations of the ancients lived without knowing beauty.

Georg Hegel, German philosopher

No failures of history and deaf spaces of time are able to destroy human thought, fixed in hundreds, thousands and millions of manuscripts and books.

Konstantin Paustovsky, Russian Soviet writer

The book is magic. The book changed the world. It contains the memory of the human race, it is the mouthpiece of human thought. A world without a book is a world of savages.

Nikolai Morozov, creator of modern scientific chronology

Books are the spiritual testament of one generation to another, the advice of a dying old man to a young man who begins to live, an order transmitted by sentries going on vacation to sentries who take his place.

Without books, human life is empty. The book is not only our friend, but also our constant, eternal companion.

Demyan Bedny, Russian Soviet writer, poet, publicist

The book is a powerful tool of communication, labor, struggle. It equips man with the experience of the life and struggle of mankind, expands his horizon, gives him knowledge with which he can make the forces of nature serve him.

Nadezhda Krupskaya, Russian revolutionary, Soviet party, public and cultural figure.

Reading good books is a conversation with the best people of the past, and, moreover, such a conversation when they tell us only their best thoughts.

René Descartes, French philosopher, mathematician, physicist and physiologist

Reading is one of the sources of thinking and mental development.

Vasily Sukhomlinsky, an outstanding Soviet teacher and innovator.

Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body.

Joseph Addison, English poet and satirist

A good book is like a conversation with an intelligent person. The reader receives from her knowledge and generalization of reality, the ability to understand life.

Alexei Tolstoy, Russian Soviet writer and public figure

Don't forget that the most colossal tool of all-round education is reading.

Alexander Herzen, Russian publicist, writer, philosopher

Without reading there is no real education, there is not and cannot be any taste, or a word, or a multilateral breadth of understanding; Goethe and Shakespeare are equal to the whole university. Reading man survives centuries.

Alexander Herzen, Russian publicist, writer, philosopher

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Clive Lewis

last fight

Chapter first

At the Stone Cauldron

In the last days of Narnia, far to the west, beyond the Lantern Waste, at the very Great Falls, lived the Monkeys.

He was so old that no one remembered when he settled in these places, and he was the smartest, ugliest, most wrinkled monkey that you can imagine. His name was Cunning, and he lived in a fork of a large oak in a wooden house covered with leaves. Talking beasts, men, dwarves, or any other people were rarely seen in this part of the forest. However, Khitr had a neighbor and friend, a donkey named Burdock. At least they called themselves friends, but from the outside it would seem to you that Burdock was more of a servant of Cunning than a friend, because any work went to him. When they went to the river together, Cunning filled large leather wineskins with water, but Burdock dragged them back. When they needed something in the city downstream, it was Burdock who would come down with empty baskets on his back and return with full ones. And all those delicacies that he brought were eaten by Khitr, also saying: “You know, I can’t eat grass and thorns, so it’s fair to reward myself with something else.” Burdock always answered: "Of course, Cunning, of course, I know." Burdock never complained: he thought he should be grateful that such an intelligent monkey was friends with such a stupid donkey. If Burdock sometimes tried to object, Cunning said: “I, Burdock, know better than you what to do. You are insane." And Burdock always answered: “Yes, Cunning, that’s absolutely right, I’m stupid,” he sighed and did as he was told.

One morning at the beginning of the year, both of them were walking along the shore of the Stone Cauldron - that is the name of a deep basin just under the cliffs on the western edge of Narnia. A huge waterfall plunges into the lake with a continuous roar; on the other side, the Great River flows out, the water under the waterfall constantly boils and foams, as if it were being boiled; hence the name Stone Cauldron. In early spring, when the snow melts in the mountains west of Narnia, the waterfall swells and becomes especially violent. When the friends were looking at the Stone Cauldron, Cunning suddenly pointed at something with a shiny black finger.

- Look! What's this?

- What are you speaking about? Burdock asked.

“Something yellow just floated down the waterfall and fell into the Cauldron. Look, here it is swimming again. We must find out what it is.

- Must? Lopuh asked.

“Of course they should,” said Cunning. “Maybe it's something useful. Be a friend, get in the Cauldron and get that thing out. Then we can take a good look at it.

- Climb into the Cauldron? asked Burdock, spinning his long ears.

"How else can we get it?" Monkey said.

“But… but…” began Burdock, “maybe you’d better pull it out yourself?” You see, it is you who are interested in what it is, but not me at all. And then, you have hands, you can grab something no worse than a man or a dwarf. And I only have hooves...

“Yes, Burdock,” said Cunning. “I didn’t expect from you… I thought better of you.”

– What did I say? the donkey asked timidly, for the Monkey seemed deeply offended. - I just wanted...

“…for me to get into the water,” said Cunning, “as if you don’t know how weak monkeys’ lungs are and how easily they catch cold!” Wonderful. I'll climb. I'm already cold in this terrible wind. But I'll go. Perhaps I will die. Then you will regret. - Sly's voice trembled, as if he was about to burst into tears.

“Please, don’t, please, don’t,” Burdock said or shouted like a donkey. “I didn’t mean to say anything like that, Cunning, really. You know, I'm terribly stupid and can't think of two things at once. I forgot about your weak lungs. Of course, I will do everything. You don't have to go into the water yourself. Promise you won't climb, Cunning!

Cunning promised, and Burdock clattered his hooves along the rocky shore, looking for a descent. Not to mention the cold, it's not a joke to climb into the seething and foaming water. Burdock stood there for a full minute, shivering and gathering his resolve. But then Khitr called out to him: “Maybe it’s better for me after all?” - and Burdock quickly said: “No, no. You promised. I am now." And he entered the water.

The wave hit him hard in the face, stuffed his mouth and blinded him. Then he went under the water for a few minutes, and when he surfaced, he ended up in a completely different part of the Cauldron. Then the whirlpool picked him up, whirled him faster and faster, carried him under the very waterfall and pulled him down. Once almost at the bottom, Burdock thought that he would not surface again; and when he nevertheless surfaced, he saw that the mysterious object was also carried to the waterfall and also pulled to the bottom, and it surfaced even further than before. In the end, mortally tired, chilled, covered in bruises, Burdock grabbed it with his teeth. He got out, dragging this thing in front of him and getting tangled in it with his front legs, as it was the size of a good carpet, very heavy, cold and slimy.

He dropped it in front of Cunning and stopped, trembling, dusting himself off and trying to catch his breath. But Monkey did not even ask how he felt, did not even look at him: he was too busy walking around the pulled out object, straightening, stroking and sniffing it. At last an impure gleam appeared in his eyes, and he said:

- It's a lion's skin.

- E-o-o-o-x, really? Burdock said with difficulty.

“Interesting… interesting… interesting…” Cunning muttered in deep thought.

“I wonder who killed the poor lion?” Burdock picked up. - We must bury him.

“Oh, it wasn’t a talking lion,” said Sly, “you don’t have to worry about that. There are no talking beasts above the waterfalls in the Western Wilds. This skin was worn by a wild, dumb lion.

By the way, that's how it was. A human hunter had killed and skinned this lion in the Western Wilds a few months earlier. But that has nothing to do with our history.

“And yet, Sly,” said Burdock, “even if this skin belonged to a wild, dumb lion, it would be more appropriate to arrange a modest funeral. I mean, lions are pretty… pretty serious. You know for whom. Do you understand?

“Stop talking, Burdock. You are not strong at this. From this skin we will make you a fur coat.

“I don’t want to,” said the donkey. “It will be… I mean, the other beasts might think… well, I wouldn’t want to…”

- What are you talking about? - Hitr interrupted irritably.

“I think it would be disrespectful to the Great Lion if an ass like me starts walking around in a lion's skin.

“Stop arguing, please,” said Cunning. “What does a donkey like you understand about this?” You don't know how to think, Burdock, so leave it to me. Why don't you want to treat me the way I treat you? I know your strengths and appreciate them. I let you climb into the Cauldron because I knew you could do it better than me. But why can't I do what I can do and you can't? Will they let me do something? Be just.

“Well, of course, if so…” said Burdock.

"That's what I'm saying," Clever picked up. “Better run down to Chippingford and see if there are any oranges and bananas than talk.”

- I'm so tired, Cunning! Burdock pleaded.

“Of course,” said the Monkey, “and wet and cold, and trotting is the best way to keep warm.” Besides, today is market day in Chippingford.

Burdock did not argue.

Left alone, Cunning immediately hobbled to his tree, now on two, then on four paws. Jumping from branch to branch, he climbed up, chattering and baring his teeth. In his house he found a thread, a needle and large scissors - he was a smart Monkey, and the gnomes taught him to sew. Putting a skein of thread into his mouth (it was a very thick thread, more like twine), which made his cheek stick out, as if he was sucking a huge toffee, Cunning took the needle in his teeth and the scissors in his left paw. Then he climbed down from the tree and hobbled towards the lion's skin. He squatted beside her and set to work.

Immediately estimating that the body of the skin is too big for Burdock, and the neck is a bit short, he cut off a large piece from the body and made a long collar out of it for a long donkey's neck. He then cut off the head and sewed a collar between the head and shoulders. On both sides of the skin, he threaded a string so that it was tied around the donkey's belly. Every now and then birds flew over him, and Cunning stopped, looking up anxiously. He didn't want anyone to see his work. But all those birds were non-speaking, so he didn't have to worry.

Burdock returned late in the evening. He did not run, but wearily cowardly.

“There are no oranges,” he said. And bananas too. And I'm very tired. And he lay down.

“Come here and try on your new lion coat.”

“I’m tired of this skin,” Burdock answered. - I'll try it on in the morning. Today I am too tired.

“What a wicked one you are, Burdock,” said Cunning. "Even if you're tired, what can you say about me?" While you were walking around the valley, I worked tirelessly on your new fur coat. My paws were so tired that they could barely hold the scissors. And you didn’t even say thank you, didn’t even look, it doesn’t touch you at all, - and ... and ...

“Dear Cunning,” Burdock immediately got up, “forgive me, the worthless one! Of course I want to try it on. She's just amazing. Try it on me now.