Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings at 50 (me, not it)



A young Tolkien, just after the war


A friend of mine recently sent me this article by Melissa Brinks at Ranker about uncovering Tolkien’s failings as a man through evidence in his works. It isn't really worth reading, a sort of execrable piece of chickenpoop clickbait with a great many of the usual accusations leveled against works of greatness such as those of Mister Tolkien. Excusing most of the fallacious arguments to a gross lack of knowledge about the actual text (it seems the author is far more familiar with Peter Jackson's inferior LOTR than Tolkien’s masterful Lord of the Rings) there are one or two things which seemed to need some answer. For instance, the author accuses Tolkien of misogyny, bigotry, and racism. This really gets under my skin. Not only do I dislike the modern penchant for judging past works by current mores, these accusations simply are not true of the author.
Tolkien's watercolor of the Shire
As to the misogyny, Brinks quotes one of Tolkien’s more beautiful letters to his son urging Christopher to take care of the women in his life and treat them with the greatest respect he possibly can. Brinks quotes a portion of one letter out of context which seems damning to the professor but it is worth reading the letter (which, we must remember, was meant as a caution for his wavering libidinous son) in full to understand his meaning.  Here is the portion, in context, which Brinks uses as evidence of Tolkien’s misogyny:
Women really have not much part in all this (the guiding nature of chivalry and romance), though they may use the language of romantic love, since it is so entwined in all our idioms. The sexual impulse makes women (naturally when unspoiled more unselfish) very sympathetic and understanding, or specially desirous of being so (or seeming so), and very ready to enter into all the interests, as far as they can, from ties to religion, of the young man they are attracted to. No intent necessarily to deceive: sheer instinct: the servient, helpmeet instinct, generously warmed by desire and young blood. Under this impulse they can in fact often achieve very remarkable insight and understanding, even of things otherwise outside their natural range: for it is their gift to be receptive, stimulated, fertilized (in many other matters than the physical) by the male. Every teacher knows that. How quickly an intelligent woman can be taught, grasp his ideas, see his point – and how (with rare exceptions) they can go no further, when they leave his hand, or when they cease to take a personal interest in him. But this is their natural avenue to love. Before the young woman knows where she is (and while the romantic young man, when he exists, is still sighing) she may actually 'fall in love'. Which for her, an unspoiled natural young woman, means that she wants to become the mother of the young man's children, even if that desire is by no means clear to her or explicit. And then things are going to happen: and they may be very painful and harmful, if things go wrong. Particularly if the young man only wanted a temporary guiding star and divinity (until he hitches his waggon to a brighter one), and was merely enjoying the flattery of sympathy nicely seasoned with a titillation of sex – all quite innocent, of course, and worlds away from 'seduction'.
43 From a letter to Michael Tolkien 6-8 March 1941
[On the subject of marriage and relations between the sexes.]
Tolkien is not misogynistic in his writing, but his age thought of women as members of society to be protected and honored. The fact that this author accuses him of misogyny speaks more about our loss of that sense then of Tolkien’s supposed dislike of women. Tolkien in his own correspondence with women is always courteous, kind, and exhibits a respect of their intellect and questions which indicate the attitude of a refined and noble human being.  In responding to Naomi Mitchison, a prolific novelist and memoirist who read proofs of Lord of the Rings he wrote
It has been both rude and ungrateful of me not to have acknowledged, or to have thanked you for past letters, gifts, and remembrances – all the more so, since your interest has, in fact, been a great comfort to me, and encouragement in the despondency that not unnaturally accompanies the labours of actually publishing such a work as The Lord of the Rings.  But it is most unfortunate that this has coincided with a period of exceptionally heavy labours and duties in other functions, so that I have been at times almost distracted.  I will try and answer your questions. I may say that they are very welcome.
After a long letter Tolkien concludes by noting her “delightful and encouraging interest” and saying that he is “deeply grateful for it.”  His words indicate an obvious delight with the depth of her interest in and knowledge of the secondary world he was creating. Finally, the fact that the majority of his characters are male speaks to his own military experience of the time, not to misogyny. 

Tolkien with classmates 

Tolkien, fourth from left in the middle row, stands for inspection with the new Cadet Corps at King Edward’s School, Birmingham, on 4 April 1907
One wonders if Brinks would suggest a revision of other great works such as Lord of the Flies or Beowulf to incorporate more badass female figures. Tolkien was more aware of the grace and beauty of Wealtheow than of the kick butt and take names heroine of our current Marvel Universe.  Brinks’ suggestion that he treated the love of his life,  his wife, whom he married despite everyone’s advice and the possibility of his own ruin (she was the daughter of his landlord) is not even a comment worthy of address.


Tolkien's lovely bride, Edith

The Tolkiens together in life and in death

Concerning bigotry, again Tolkien was not indicating that lower class people we're not as important as upper class people. Quite the opposite. His experience on the battlefields of Europe, like the experience of so many young men of his era, was a leveling experience between upper class and lower class not a calcification of the various strata of society from the 19th century. Like Lord Peter Wimsey and his man Bunter in Dorothy Sayers’ novels, Frodo sees Sam not just as an equal but really as a better man than he is. The alleged bigotry towards other religions such as Judaism is an outright laughable accusation. I have long thought that Tolkien based his races on different religious groups of his day. The high elves seem to be the Anglican church and the low elves seem to be the low Anglican church; the dwarves seem to mirror the Jewish communities in England; the men and the hobbits seem to be Catholics; even the men of Harad seem to be the Muslim community of the Ottoman Empire.  But Tolkien’s world of Middle Earth was an alternate world – intentionally so.  Though like any author he draws on his own experience and models his work upon it, he is not making an identity as the author of this article so fatuously suggests.  Even were he to do so, the dwarves are extremely impressive as a race in all his novels (Silmarillion to Hobbit to Lord of the Rings to Lost Tales).  Even the most threatening group of the men of Haradwaith are misguided by their seducer, Sauron.  The enemy of orcs are themselves not evil by nature, but elves tortured to the point of becoming destructive.  Tolkien’s sense of evil is far more complex than Brinks gives credit.  He always seemed to see evil as a torture, imprisonment, misguided thing – not as the “ultimate evil” of our video game age (which, tangentially, is another reason for my dislike of Jackson’s LOTR when compared to Tolkien’s masterpiece). 
Tolkien's watercolor of Barad-dur
Thus, even the accusation of racism seems completely inane.  Tolkien was no racist.  He had a deep love for Norse mythology, Germanic tradition, English history, and somewhat the French, but he was born in South Africa and knew the traditions of the Zulu people.  He praised the learning of the 14th century Muslim scholars.  He even wrote a protest note to Mr. Adolf Morgothed Hitler praising the Jewish people as “that gifted people”! 
Thank you for your letter ... I regret that I am not clear as to what you intend by arisch. I am not of Aryan extraction: that is Indo-Iranian; as far as I am aware none of my ancestors spoke Hindustani, Persian, Gypsy, or any related dialects. But if I am to understand that you are enquiring whether I am of Jewish origin, I can only reply that I regret that I appear to have no ancestors of that gifted people.
— Tolkien, The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, #30
The chance that professor Tolkien was any more racist than anyone else of his era is miniscule and the accusation that evil characters in the movie were “made more black” is risible.  Tolkien well knew the difference between men and women with brown or dark skin and the blackness of Grendel, Ungoliant, and Baphomet.  If the accusation of racism is to be tossed about perhaps more should be slung at Peter Jackson who overused the imagery and played the “evil” card far too freely.

 
This is not how orcs are made!
The article raised my hackles and got up my Tookish fighting blood, it is true, but I must thank both the article and my friend for sending it my way.  I had of late, wherefore I know not, lost most of my mirth, forgone most customs of exercises, and indeed it went so heavily with me that I even failed to lift a glass on September 22nd to my two favorite Hobbits (you know who you are).  When I grew heated over this silly little bit of tripe wrapped in scheissvertisements I decided it was time to pick up the professor’s great work again and read it to my young daughter.  Soon my older children wanted to listen too, and we were soon reading once again the work I remember my father reading to me from childhood.  Frodo, Sam and Pippin have just met Merry at the Buckleberry Ferry after spending some time with Farmer Maggot, and I am remembering how, once again, my father was right – this work is one of the few works of the 20th century about hope.

This

This

and certainly this (no female characters my ax!)



the Shadow is but a passing thing

If you haven’t yet listened to professor Dr. Helen Lasseter Freeh’s interview on this work, I suggest you listen to her (disclosure: we are of one blood, she and I).  

 



One of the things she points out is that Tolkien’s work is filled with joy and hope (another reason for me to dislike LOTR).  There is hope in the singing, the rescue by the elves, the landscape, the description of flowers and trees, the conversation with Maggot about mushrooms, the humor of Grip, Wolf and Fang charging the hobbits, there is joy in the travel with companions even when it is dogged by black riders, there is joy in the party of Bilbo’s 111th and in the saving power of Gandalf allowing Bilbo to freely give up the ring. 

Frodo and Gandalf by Alan Lee
There is even hope and joy in the dark conversation between Frodo and Gandalf about the ring in chapter 2.  Yet it was here that I noticed a few very startling things I had not previously seen (that’s the beauty of a great work – it doesn’t change but we do and notice new things in it as we change!).  First, the race of Hobbits is the ordinary human race – the average Joe (or Tommy) who simply wants his ballgame and his beer and his children to make it through school okay.  They are not happy singing midgets like the munchkins or like Darby O’Gill’s little people.  
This would NOT be Hobbits



Nor would this

and NO

The glory of the Shire is that it is so ordinary, not that it is some rural paradise filled with maniacal partying and singing denizens of Cymru as yet untainted by industrialism (another reason for me to dislike LOTR).  They are people who don’t want big ideas or grand adventures; “We don’t want any adventures here,” said Bilbo, “Good day.” People who are so far from being mariners on the deep waters of the human spirit that they are scared even of small streams and suspicious of anyone who messes about with boats “and other queer things.”  Such people are not helpful in the great struggle with the horror of the enemy – in fact they can be a hindrance, even treacherously so.  Nor are they children innocently enjoying the world in the newness of springtime (as Ralph Bakshi and Peter Jackson both suggest – and if you haven’t yet seen the Bakshi overdub you must go enjoy some ribald humor on YouTube).  Farmer Cotton, the Gaffer, Bullroarer, Belladonna Took, Lobelia S-B and even the young adventurers all suggest that these are seasoned adults, not babes. 
So why are they worth preserving?  What is it about the Shire that makes Frodo want to protect it?  It isn’t just the trees and fields (as is suggested in LOTR).  Nor is it just the drinking and dancing on tables (rrrrghh, Mr. Jackson!).  Yet there seems something in the nature of the ordinary which Tolkien suggests must be the focus of the heroic – something which needs protecting even though it doesn’t know that it does.  Nowhere in his book does he suggest that the elvish society needs protecting; quite the opposite.  We know from the outset that elvish society is doomed to perish; Elrond says so, Galadriel says so, even Glorion says so.  Frodo meets elves fleeing Middle Earth.  The elves throw themselves into battle knowing they will fail.  Nor does the preservation of dwarvish society get much emphasis, though there is mention of battle in the North near Lonely Mountain.  Never does Gimli or any other dwarf make the claim that they are fighting to preserve dwarvish culture.  Even the men of Middle Earth frequently seem to suggest that they are fighting to hold back the darkness, not to preserve the beauty and greatness of Minas Tirith or of Rohirrim.  Even the attempt to preserve the White City becomes the downfall of great men like Boromir.  Only the Shire seems to want or need preserving in the book.  Perhaps Tolkien is suggesting that this is the core of our own race, the ordinary, peace-loving, shallow thinking race of human/hobbits that just want to be left alone.  Could it be that this is worth preserving more than all the Chartres and Palmyras and Reichstags of civilization?
The other aspect to the Hobbit race in Tolkien’s works is their tremendous resilience.  I noticed this time around how intimately tied were Frodo and Gollum – far more than Bilbo and Gollum in The Hobbit.  From Chapter 2 onward (in which Gandalf and Frodo discuss the history of the ring) we already know Gollum’s real name, Smeagol, his back story, his years of loneliness and suffering with the ring, and his recent capture in Mordor and torture by Sauron.  Frodo suggests that it was “a pity Bilbo didn’t kill him when he had the chance” to which Gandalf responds “you have not seen him.”  Indeed, the wizard adds, “it was pity that stayed his hand” and thankfully for Bilbo pity was how he began his possession of the ring of power.  From the outset of the journey Frodo is thinking about not only the ring, but Gollum and how he, Frodo, may end up like Gollum.  At first he denies that this might be so, even growing heated at the suggestion that Gollum may have been related to Hobbits.  But Gandalf responds that the evidence, the riddles, the resilience to the ring, the cultural identity, all suggest the opposite. 

Herein lies a crucial element of Tolkien’s genius.  It is one thing to hate our enemies, to make aliens and monsters out of them so that we might crush them, as Niell Fergusson suggests so many did during the Great War.  But this is lazy, slipshod thinking and pusillanimity of spirit.  The truly heroic action of the heart is to recognize that our enemy is the same as we are; that in different circumstances we not only might do but indeed probably would do the same thing as they.  The recent heroic actions by Brandt Jean toward Amber Guyger illustrated that indeed, our enemies suffer just as we do, and that forgiveness is the only possible route to our own salvation.  Indeed, such recognition must accept that the greatest horror conceivable is not beyond our own power.  Frodo becomes the Dark Lord at the end of the novel (spoiler alert) and not in some cinematic, CGI-gasm of fire and action, but in a rather pathetic statement of self-delusion that happens unbeknownst to the rest of Middle Earth.  Something more like Marvin the Martian and his p38 space modulator or Plankton trying to rule the world than Elijah Wood’s overacting (another reason to dislike LOTR).  
overacting



better

better still



probably best

In the end, the ring so corrupts Frodo that he thinks he is something great, he is delusional and loses himself.  Frodo fails and dies (spiritually) at the end.  Or, perhaps to be fair, he is so close to failure that he almost dies.  Ultimately, he is saved… by Gollum.  The earlier kindness and mercy shown to Gollum/Smeagol certainly contributed to the salvation on Mount Orodruin, but even that does not assure the salvation.  The only thing that seems to is an Actus Dei, an act of God, through the person of Gollum who bites off the ring finger and falls into the fire.  Gollum, one could say, is damned, Frodo is saved.  But Gollum and Frodo, Tolkien intimates, are one and the same – bound together by the ring which “brings them all and in the darkness binds them”.  Even after the salvation by the eagles and the return home, Frodo is not the same person and eventually wishes to pass with Bilbo into the Grey Heavens (Avalon) of eternal life, leaving behind the grieved by joyful Sam, who might after all be the main character of the book.

my favorite photograph of the good professor


Finally, it dawned on me with some remarkable joy that the novel holds a special place for me this year.  Allow me to RambleOn.  When Frodo sets off on his journey he is 50 years old.  In Hobbit years that’s about 20 or so, but the fact that he literally is 50 struck a chord.  Frodo is in love, at the beginning, with the normalcy and beauty of the Shire, but he also is feeling a bit pudgy, somewhat bored, and as though nothing in his life is ever going to be really exciting again.  He is beyond those dangerous years of his tweens (the 20s) and on the road to being “respectable” (visavis – sedentary).  When the ring comes to him and the adventure begins he finds himself not wanting to accept the responsibility and not wanting to leave the shire.  But he does for the sake of protecting others.  In so doing he finds that he faces tremendous peril, sorrow and loss (Frodo doesn’t know, after all, that Gandalf is alive and thinks him dead twice in the novel – once until Rivendell and again after the last battle and his recuperation in Minas Tirith), but he saves all of Middle Earth and is honored ever after for his sacrifice.  Being myself on the near approach to the event horizon of 50 I sympathize deeply with my fellow hobbit and as I sit here shoeless I intend to raise a glass after typing this.  Here’s to all those small, seemingly insignificant fellow lovers of good beer, song, laughter, mushrooms and the last light of the setting sun shining on the keyhole.  May the hair on our toes never fall out!

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