February 10, 2009
Most people judge Tolkien by The Lord of the Rings. This is not incorrect, but I fear that too much is lost by so limited a view. I am an unapologetic Tolkien fan, and I believe unabashedly that his was the finest fantasy novel by any fantasy writer. I judge this by his exactitude and perfectionism and the staggering time he put into its making. It was forty years from his writing the first stories of Middle Earth to the publication of the Lord of the Rings. What other fantasy author has put so much labor into a single work? Tolkien honed and niggled his work until it was a single, unified whole. The only problem is that his work is incomplete.
The Lord of the Rings, much lauded, is usually studied and read on its own terms. What has been endlessly copied by lesser writers is its surface: the Hero Quest, the archetypal evil of the Dark Lord, the small humility of the Hobbits. But I do not think this was what Tolkien intended--his tale was bigger and far more complex, with much more and greater stakes and more compelling and universal themes. His intended narrative was complete in construction for the most part, and I am sure he held all the tangled vines of it in his mind: but his writings only hints at the exquisite tale it might have become.
What I read in Tolkien is a long discussion of Pride, of Sin and the Fall (of Man)—of fallen men resisting (or failing to resist) Evil, of unfallen Elves resisting the same. Its Evil is not Archetypal, but explicit (and Christian). It looks at the will to dominate (echoed in LotR), the evil desire to be worshipped and to supplant God, at the stagnation of immortality and the abject mortal fear and weary immortal lure of Death. He tackled very significant ideas and questions, themes that are “epic” in the old sense: addressing the greater questions of humanity, of life and death and living, of meaning and God and evil. There is a quiet melancholy to it all, colored as it is by its Christian fatalism: sadness at what has been lost (through the Fall).
The many tales that have come out of his unfinished writings, the various bare and only-sketched stories, are nevertheless cohesive and interdependent when taken as a whole. It is an incredible, unmatchable achievement as it stands, and had he completed it, it would have been truly staggering. It pains me deeply at how derisively and blindly Tolkien’s work is dismissed (e.g. by “literary” snobs or by the frustration of those who do not "get" The Silmarillion). Peter Jackson’s movies are travesties to that greater vision, though they treat the high-lights and oft-copied salience with adequate popular spectacle.
If my premise is sound, then nearly everyone who has written fantasy after Tolkien has missed what was best about his work. Like Terry Brooks in The Sword of Shannara, they copied the mere structure of The Lord of the Rings. The Quest has long been the main attraction: the quest is the symbol, as is the questor and the thing for which he quests. His great enemy is simplified, a mere archetype, as is he. Derivative work has simplified Tolkien’s monument and world. (Please do not misunderstand: I am not deriding later fantasy fiction en masse, but exploring what I see as a fundamental misapprehension of Tolkien’s genius.)
Let me explore one example of this.
Within the scope of The Lord of the Rings alone, we see the Hobbit Frodo spending most of his journey fighting directly against Sauron. Encounters with orcs et al are mere frosting, lively scenes to spice up the action. (or so I will hold for this simplified, momentary examination). Sauron was never present save in the Ring and in Frodo's own heart. Many have pointed this out before: that Sauron's evil, his will to dominate, his darkness, were mere "personifications" of Frodo's own internal conflicts (his own will to evil), and Frodo's "quest" was a metaphor of facing that evil will within himself (and ultimately overcoming it). In the end he fails victory on his own, and it is the fruit borne by the seed of his own selfless pity (in the person of Gollum) that grants success to the quest. The story as a whole can all be taken as metaphor, as "projections" of an internal conflict--a psychodrama of sorts.
Yet when we look at the story colored by knowledge of the whole work in which it rests, Sauron becomes not "Archetypal Evil", nor quite such a simplistic force as the "will for domination", but instead "Fallen" in the Christian sense. His desire is to supplant God, not mere evil for evil's sake. Therefore Frodo is not facing his own "darkness" through the quest but his own "original sin" and a denial of God. (The difference between "personal will to evil" and "original sin" is indeed a niggling distinction.) The "accident" that arises out of Frodo’s pity to Gollum is God (the One, Eru) rewarding Frodo. Original Sin is not something that a man (or Hobbit) can overcome on his own. (We are in purely Christian territory here.) This redemption is something that only God can grant. So it is God who "pushes" Gollum and the Ring into the fire. He rewards Frodo’s "Faith" in the Quest. Frodo has abased himself to this one end, has put himself up as a sacrificial lamb (Jesus’s role in the New Testament).
I am probably belaboring that point. But let’s look at it in context with the overarching mythology. Throughout all the previous confrontations with evil will (Morgoth in the First Age and before, Sauron in the Second Age), the Elves have always been present. Those who participated in these battles had suffered their own "Fall" of sorts: through Fëanor and the oath. Thus, they too were in search of redemption. Their own probably came at the end of the First Age through the person of Eärendil (himself half-human) and his plea for aid on behalf of Elves and Men. This was answered by the Valar (the Powers of God). Now the Noldor are forgiven because of his sacrifice and are permitted to return to the West.
This is why throughout LotR the Elves are leaving Middle Earth. They have already overcome their shadow. Whether Sauron is victorious or defeated, they are already saved. Tolkien’s stories were told through the point of view of the Elves (and Hobbits in the last chapters: i.e. LotR and The Hobbit), but the tale itself is really about Man--and the rise of Man's primacy on earth. I would contend that Frodo’s sacrifice could be interpreted as proof to God that Man was in fact capable of salvation. (Perhaps it paved the way for the coming of Jesus.) In this way, it is an ending to the greater story: Fallen Man has at last bought his redemption (through Frodo). The Elves are departing, but all is hopeful because "The Age of Man" dawns with men on their way to salvation. To Tolkien, a Roman Catholic, this promise was probably the most optimistic outcome. And indeed, it closes the Mythology, which is long and bitter struggle seeking that very end.
This is all hastily written and not entirely sourced and thought-out, but the point I am striving for is that Tolkien’s opus cannot be understood by the terms of The Lord of the Rings alone. It is unfortunate that so many have left his larger work out of consideration. It is also a great tragedy that Tolkien was not able to bring it all together as he intended it. If The Silmarillion had appeared in bookstores with The Lord of the Rings as merely the final section, how would Fantasy be today shaped?