The talking mouse always was my favorite character in The Chronicles of Narnia:
I am reading The Voyage of the Dawn Treader for the first time and I am reading chapter 12, the Dark Island. It has made me love Reepicheep and he reminds me of you, the dread Ilk, VFM et al.
The scene is set when Caspian is deciding on whether to sail into the darkness and all advice is to the contrary:
But all at once the clear voice of Reepicheep. “And why not?” he said. “Will someone explain to me why not?”
No one was anxious to explain, so Reepicheep continued: “If I were addressing peasants or slaves,” he said, “I might suppose that this suggestion proceeded from cowardice. But I hope it will never be told in Narnia that a company of noble and royal persons in the flower of their age turned tail because they were afraid of the dark.”
“But what manner of use would it be ploughing through that blackness?” asked Drinian.
“Use?” replied Reepicheep. “Use, Captain? If by use you mean filling our bellies or our purses, I confess it will be no use at all. So far as I know we did not set sail to look for things useful but to seek honour and adventure. And here is as great an adventure as ever I heard of, and here, if we turn back, no little impeachment of all our honours.”But this was the best reminding of your stout defense of friends such as Owen:
There came a cry, either of some inhuman voice or else a voice of one in such extremity of terror that he had almost lost his humanity. Caspian was still trying to speak his mouth was too dry-when the shrill voice of Reepicheep, which sounded louder than usual in that silence, was heard.
“Who calls?” it piped. “If you are a foe we do not fear you, and if you are a friend your enemies shall be taught the fear of us.”Long live the spirit of Reepicheep! May we all aspire to it.
Reepicheep represents the indomitable spirit, the unconquerable spirit, of Man. He kneels only to the king and to Aslan, he fears no evil, and to say that he embraces conflict would be a serious understatement. In my opinion, it is he, not Caspian, Edmund, Lucy, or Eustace, who is the true hero of the tale.
My owns plans are made. While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan’s country, or shot over the edge of the world in some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise and Peepiceek will be head of the talking mice in Narnia.