Magic and Wonder: The Numinous Experience
- Alec Tebben
- Feb 24, 2020
- 2 min read

Last month, I discovered my new favorite word: “numinous.” Derived from “numen,” which refers to a divine power or spirit, “numinous” means “spiritual,” “supernatural,” or “surpassing comprehension or understanding” (https://www.dictionary.com/browse/numinous?s=t). The word was introduced to me in a class I took on C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia, throughout which Lewis conveys the numinous many times.
It’s difficult to accurately explain the numinous, since it is, by definition, beyond comprehension. But another word that I like to associate with the numinous is “wonder.” Think of the last time you witnessed something truly beautiful in nature. It could have been a sunset of crimson and gold that filled the whole sky or crashing waves on a mighty sea of dark blue and slate. Or maybe you know a song that’s so beautiful it makes you pause whatever you’re doing, close your eyes, and just listen. Think of how these experiences make you feel. Do you get chills? Is your breath stolen away? Do you feel wonder? If so, those are what I would call numinous experiences.
From my perspective, Lewis liked to convey the numinous through details that don’t exactly make logical sense, but still feel right. One of my favorite examples is found in chapter 15 of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, “The Wonders of the Last Sea.” As the Dawn Treader nears the end of the world, the crew discovers that the water of the sea is sweet and drinkable. More than that, it has a mystical effect on them.
“It’s like light more than anything else,” says Caspian.
Reepicheep the Mouse calls it “drinkable light.” Drinking the water makes everything appear brighter, and yet the crew is not bothered by it. Lewis writes that they can see more light than ever before and are even able to stare into the sun without blinking. They even find that they are no longer hungry for food. This water from the end of the world doesn’t make logical sense, and it’s difficult for Lewis to explain exactly how it makes the crew feel. But that’s what makes it numinous.
The Chronicles of Narnia weren’t the first books I read that conveyed the numinous to me. The Lord of the Rings and J.R.R. Tolkien’s other stories always made me feel wonder and awe in an almost spiritual sense, but I didn’t yet have a word for that feeling. And as I now read Lewis’ Out of the Silent Planet, the first in his science fiction trilogy, I am experiencing the numinous yet again.
But why does all this matter? Why should you read and write stories that convey the numinous?
Because as magical and fantastical as the numinous seems, it is also very real. Remember that beautiful nature scene you recalled earlier? Or the song? Or perhaps you have also read the tales of Lewis and Tolkien and have felt the same wonder as I have. These things make us feel something that we cannot quite understand. They resonate with a part of our being that we can’t quantify or point out in an anatomy textbook. Deep down, I think we all know there is magic in the world. And it’s the duty of artists to remind us of that.
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