Once there was a super cute fellow with a slight bad boy edge whose name was Bigs Bardot. This story is about something that happened to him when he was sent away from Australia – and its wonderful collection of Big Things! – due to his family refusing to accept that he’d rather take selfies with The Big Bandicoot than slave away at an office job, get married and have a bunch of children like his brother Damien did.
Not everyone’s like Damien, Mum! And he and Renee aren’t that happy together anyway!
Bigs was sent to the brutally industrial, yet oddly charismatic, city of Belfast, in the heart of Northern Ireland. Far less than ten miles from the monument to Finn McCool and two miles from The Big Fish he discovered the whimsical C.S. Lewis Square.
It was home to an astonishing assortment of elaborately-crafted statues dedicated to the many oddball characters from the novel The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. (Their names were Maugrim, The White Witch and Mr and Mrs Beaver, but they do not come into this story much).
The mane attraction was Aslan, a very large lion with shaggy, bronze hair which grew over most of his face as well as on his head, and Bigs liked him even before he burst forth from the the grim bowels of Belfast and into the fairy tale expanse of the lion’s den.
Livin’ Nextdoor to Aslan
The first thing Bigs saw upon entering the park was a homeless man on the side of the open space. He was a wonderful homeless man, especially with the cantaloupine sun shining on the sardine cans he was using as shoes. While he was looking at him, Bigs heard the sound of single mothers squawking to his right. Turning in that direction, Bigs saw what he came to see.
Aslan stood proudly above a crowd of chavs. Bigs barely knew what to do or say when he saw him. People who have not been in Belfast sometimes think that a thing cannot be good and terrible at the same time.
If Bigs ever thought so, he was cured of it now. When he tried to look at Aslan’s face, he just caught a glimpse of the expert craftmanship apparent in his solemn, overwhelming eyes; and then he found he couldn’t look at him.
Bigs stepped up to the lion and said:
“I have come – Aslan.”
“Welcome, Bigs, son of, umm…,” said Aslan. “Well, your lack of a reliable father figure is hardly important now.”
“Tell that to my therapist!” replied Bigs.
Aslan chuckled, and his voice was deep and rich and seemed to calm Bigs. He felt very glad now, and not at all awkward.
“Where is the small alien, Gordon, who you’re always having adventures with?” asked Aslan.
“His visa was denied,” said Bigs. “There was some… unpleasantness, at the airport.”
Aslan said nothing either to excuse Gordon or to blame him. He simply stood looking at Bigs with his unchanging eyes. And it seemed to both of them that there was nothing more to say.
“Please, Aslan,” said Bigs, “can I take a delightful photo with you for my award-winning website, Land of the Bigs?”
“All will be done,” said Aslan, “but you have forgotten to do up your fly.”
It was true. Bigs thought it was a bit rich for Aslan, who didn’t even wear pants, to pass judgement on his fashion choices, but let it slide. The last thing he wanted was to get on the wrong side of a magical space cat.
Belfast and Furious
The large lion had been birthed by the uncompromising brilliance of Irish artist Maurice Harron. Aslan was created as the centrepiece of an expansive, £2.5 million redevelopment in East Belfast that quickly become a favourite place for the young and young-at-heart.
“I’m delighted to step ‘through the wardrobe’ and take on the challenge of recreating the magic of Narnia, right on C.S. Lewis’ own doorstep,” Maurice told a clearly perplexed reporter from the Irishowen News. “These artworks will be central to the civic square and provide a fitting tribute to one of Belfast’s most famous sons.
“I want to recreate the emotions within Lewis’ world, so that – like Lucy, Edmund, Peter and Susan – you never quite know what’s around the corner.”
Aslan, standing three metres from superbly-rendered claw to handsome head, offers a slice of whimsy to an, at times, harsh city. Perched atop a small hill, he takes pride of place above the other monuments and commands the respect of all who pass. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lion to you!
The Lion, the Bigs and the Wardrobe
As soon as he had said good night to Aslan and sequestered himself away from East Belfast in favour of his salubrious five-star accommodation in the heart of the city, Bigs sat alone, peering earnestly out upon the blinking lights, sipping languidly at a peach daiquiri. He thought about The Giant Fisherman, and Luke Kelly, and all the bizarre creatures he’d met in a seaside village in Wales. Bigs was tired, but he was content in a way he never could have imagined before.
And that is the very end of Bigs Bardot’s adventures with Aslan. But if Abdul, the checkout operator at the Nando’s down the road from the square was right – and he usually was – it was only the beginning of his adventures through the Land of the Bigs.
What personal demons did Bigs face, what confronting and, at times, deeply unpleasant realisations did he come to? Well, that’s Narnia business!
