Narnia Books in Order

Lewis published the seven books one a year between 1950 and 1956. He did not write them in the order the stories happen, and the gap between those two sequences is the whole of this argument.

Only the last book is in the same place in both. Everything else moves, and two books move a long way: the origin story travels from sixth to first, and the side-story from fifth to third.

It is not arbitrary, and the people who prefer it are not ignoring Lewis. In 1957 an American boy wrote to him having argued with his mother about the order — the boy wanted chronological, his mother publication. Lewis wrote back saying he agreed more with the boy than with the mother. His stepson, Douglas Gresham, is generally credited with pressing for the renumbering afterwards, citing that letter.

The case against rests on the rest of the same letter. Lewis also wrote that the order does not matter very much, which is a long way from an instruction, and he never renumbered the books himself in the years he had left. A reply to one child agreeing that his preference was reasonable is thin ground for resequencing a series permanently — that is the objection, and it is a fair one.

Most reading-order arguments are about tidiness. This one is about two specific effects that only work in one sequence, which is why it is worth having an opinion rather than shrugging.

1. The wardrobe stops being a discovery. In publication order you walk into Narnia alongside a child who has no idea what it is. Opening with the creation of the world instead means the reader arrives already briefed, and the single most famous scene in children's literature becomes a confirmation rather than a surprise.
2. The lamp-post stops being an answer. The origin story explains several objects and people the earlier books left hanging. Read sixth, that is a payoff. Read first, it is set-up for questions the reader has not thought to ask.
3. The weakest opening. The Magician's Nephew is a fine sixth book and a strange first one — it is about adults, it spends its early chapters in London, and Narnia does not exist for much of it.

The honest counter-argument: on a reread, chronological is genuinely interesting. You know where everything goes, so watching the world assemble in sequence is a different and rewarding experience. That is the order's real home — second time through, not first.

• A child who has read none of it. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe on its own. Roughly seven to eleven, and it reads aloud beautifully to younger than that.
• A child who is already in. Whichever comes next in publication order — and the individual paperbacks cost a fraction of a boxed set.
• Somebody rereading as an adult. This is the one case for the chronological set, and they will know why.
• A boxed set as a present. Fine, with one caveat: tell them to start with book two of the numbering. That single sentence is worth more than the wrapping.

For the wider age-banded lists, book gifts for kids and for tweens sort by reading age. A child who finishes Narnia and wants the next thing is usually after either the mythology or the portal, and books like Percy Jackson covers the first of those; fantasy for beginners covers the second.

In audio the series is unusually well served, because it was written to be read aloud: audiobooks for kids has the shelf, and a car is where most families get through all seven.