Wooden Swords and Battle Cries: Thoughts on Boyhood Battle Fascination

A family hike led by Sir Benjamin

Benjamin's attempt to earn money by playing harmonica on the streets of Bend got me thinking. His inclination to provide is already so strong at seven. Beyond provision, his young mind is a magnet for protection. He's drawn toward weapons and battle, and it's natural—it has to be. Because the very mention of war makes me cringe. I denied the existence of guns until he was four. And only then relented when he picked up a wooden letter f and began shooting it. When I said we don't play guns, he said: "It not a gun, mom...it's a fun." (Brilliant.)

For Benjamin, battle is a thing of beauty. His eyes light up during the battles in C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia. His first question about our movie night film of choice is always: Is there a battle? If a book contains bows and arrows, guns, courageous knights, and fallen enemies, it's perfect. (Fortunately, Benjamin and Jeff read a novel every night before bed, so I leave many of the battle books to Daddy...Lord of the Rings, Johnny Tremain, etc.)

A couple of months ago, Benjamin, Annie and I were walking hand in hand to Bend, Oregon's lovely farmers market. Here's a noteworthy conversation that occurred along the way:

Benjamin (wooden sword tucked through his belt): Mom...
Me: Yes, sweetheart?
Benjamin: If anyone ever tries to steal you or Annie, they'll have my sword to reckon with.
 

They'll have my sword to reckon with? I grew up in a house of three girls. We played Barbie, put on plays of Little Orphan Annie, and changed our baby dolls' diapers daily. But we did NOT play war. War was scary. War was the end of the world. But for Benjamin and many of his friends, war is play. Battle is a fantastical world where the enemies are witches and hideous, two-foot-fanged monster rats. For him, battle is about protecting the art of chivalry and saving the world from the wicked. Battle is not real war. It's magical, not bloody. It is an act of salvation, not a deed of destruction. His demeanor changes completely when the subject of real war is broached. He wants nothing to do with it. 

Three years after my failure in the fight against battle in the Browning household, I'm far more comfortable with the gear. And I know it's necessary in the life of my warrior manchild. I've seen him grow from protector in play, to one in reality. I was recently quite ill and he stood guard over me during moments when Jeff had to be away. He even acts as protector of his sister at birthday parties and other public outings. I know that eventually the wooden swords, battleaxes and guns will fall away. But I pray he keeps his battle spirit. May it carry him far.

Some of our favorite battle-happy books:

Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis
The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien
Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie
The Wilderking Trilogy by Jonathan Rogers
The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle