The Maker's Image
Tolkien, Fantasy & Magic
By David Grubbs
This juxtaposition of identities complicates the discussion, and often
opposing sides of an argument will seek to claim him as support for their
position. As a timely example of this, both Connie Neal and Rich Abanes
include Tolkien in their books on the controversial Harry Potter
series. Neal defends Harry Potter and sees Tolkien as a precedent for
incorporating magic into fiction, while Abanes opposes Harry Potter
and attempts to draw a sharp distinction between the magic of Tolkien and the
magic of Harry Potter. However, such attempts to "recruit" Tolkien as
an ally sometimes result in distortions of his literary creation, overstating
some elements and ignoring others in order to make a case.
This article will not attempt to draft Tolkien into any particular faction.
Instead, it is intended to present a description of magic within the
Middle-earth context and explain how these magical elements can be understood
in light of Tolkien's ideas about faith and fantasy. (For those unfamiliar
with Tolkien's works, "Middle-earth" is the most common name of Tolkien's
fictional pseudo-medieval world.) To accomplish this, Tolkien's works will be
examined from two perspectives: the view from inside the stories and the view
from outside the stories. "Inside" refers to the treatment of magic within
the story itself-not as a plot device or symbol, but as a feature of an
imaginary literary world. "Outside" refers to views the author expressed in a
nonfiction context, which may be appropriately used as a means of
understanding his fictional works. Finally, it will be shown how these
"inside" and "outside" elements may fit together to form a unified expression
of Tolkien's philosophy of fantasy.
Some have attempted to distance Tolkien from the debate over magic in
fantasy. They allege that "magic" in Middle-earth only refers to the
supernatural powers of certain non-human beings, particularly elves and
wizards (who are really Maiar or angelic beings). This claim is
probably well meant, but certainly inaccurate. Within Middle-earth, magic
is not simply an inherent quality of elves and wizards. In fact, members of
all races are credited with some form of magical lore, with the exception
of hobbits, Middle-earth's child-like "little people." (In the context of
Tolkien's Middle-earth corpus, "race" or "races" may be used to refer to
all species with human-like qualities: men, elves, dwarves, hobbits, orcs,
etc.) Dwarves also use magic, as do humans and orcs (Hobbit 53, 198;
Fellowship 400; Towers 92). Even though hobbits have "little
or no magic about them," they do use magical objects (Hobbit 16, 19,
91; Towers 430). It is possible that the hobbits' lack of magic has
more to do with their attitude than their aptitude, for when one hobbit
suggests to another that he become a wizard or a warrior, he responds
tartly, "I don't want to be neither!" (Fellowship 278). As for
wizards, their identity as Maiar is a secret and not widely known or
understood, even by elves. In fact, most suppose that they are humans "who
had acquired lore and arts by long and secret study," not a hypothesis
anyone would be likely to suggest if humans have no capacity for magic
(Unfinished 405).
A Look Inside: Word As Magic
What then is the nature of magic in Middle-earth? Tolkien is reticent on
this point, only giving occasional hints. The metaphysics of Middle-earth
magic are left largely undeveloped and for the most part only magic's
operation is portrayed. One particularly descriptive passage relates the
wizard Gandalf's magical struggle with the Balrog, a monstrous demonic
entity:
Song also may be used when working magic; in fact, song appears to be the
more refined technique of magic and is the preferred method for elves
(Silmarillion 171, 180-181; Fellowship 266). But again this is
song with words, not simply vocal music (Fellowship 266). The most
striking example of the magic of song may be found in the flamboyant but
enigmatic character of Tom Bombadil. Tom is a mysterious little man that
romps carelessly through the wild Old Forest, happily singing nonsensical
ditties. Yet he is the Master of the Old Forest, and everything within it
obeys him. His explanation for this relationship is as mysterious and
significant as Tom himself:
While the significance of this theme-the magic of words-is not overtly
explored within the stories, it has an important connection with Tolkien's
cosmology of Middle-earth. While Tolkien had no desire to use Middle-earth
as an allegory of Christianity, as Lewis had used Narnia, Middle-earth
still reflects Tolkien's faith. "There was Eru, the One," is the opening
declaration of his fictional creation account (Silmarillion 15).
This shema-like statement asserts firmly that Middle-earth exists
within a monotheistic universe. The creation story that follows describes
an ex nihilo creation of the world, as well as the creation of
angels and the fall of a "Satan," all features of traditional Christian
theology (Silmarillion 15, 16).
There are, however, some important differences between Tolkien's account of
creation and that of Christian orthodoxy. In contrast to the simple commands
of Genesis 1, Eru fashions Middle-earth through the means of a vast song,
composed by Him and sung by His angelic choirs. Not only are the physical
features of Middle-earth contained within this song, but its entire history
as well:
Whenever the topic of Christianity, fantasy fiction and
magic is brought up, the late British author J. R.R. Tolkien will inevitably
surface. Tolkien is arguably the most important fantasist (fantasy author) of
the 20th century, if not the entire history of the genre, so it is natural
that his works become the focus of discussion. But besides his prominence as
a fantasist, Tolkien was also a devout Roman Catholic, committed to both
creedal orthodoxy and the application of faith to all areas of life. Tolkien
was not a Christian and a fantasist: he sought to be a Christian
fantasist, using one as an expression of the other.
A Look Inside: Magic Or Not? I could think of nothing to
do but to try and put a shutting-spell on the door. I know many; but to do
things of that kind rightly requires time, and even then the door can be
broken by strength . . . It laid hold of the iron ring, and then it perceived
me and my spell . . . The counter-spell was terrible. It nearly broke me.
For an instant the door left my control and began to open! I had to speak a
word of Command. (Fellowship 424-425)
In this passage, the magic of Middle-earth clearly involves the use of
spells, which from this context and others may be defined as "certain words
or phrases that allow their speaker to affect reality." Written words may
also bear magical power. Swords are sometimes engraved with runes to give
them power against supernatural enemies, and it is probable that the doors
to Moria are sealed by the magic of the inscription above them
(Fellowship 362, 398). The Moria doors are actually a perfect
illustration of this point, for they are shut by the written word and
opened by the spoken word (Fellowship 398).
Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow, Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots
are yellow. None has ever caught him yet, for, Tom, he is the master: His
songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster. (Fellowship
196; italics mine)
A clear pattern emerges: the magic of
Middle-earth is practiced through the use of words, whether spoken, written
or sung, with sung words being the most potent of all.
A Look Inside: Word As Creation
In this Music the World was begun; for [Eru] made visible the song of the
Ainur [angels], and they beheld it as light in the darkness. And many among
them became enamored of its beauty, and of its history which they saw
beginning and unfolding as in a vision. Therefore [Eru] gave to their vision
Being, and set it amid the Void . . . (Silmarillion 25)
This image of creation through music was central to the Pythagorean School of Greek philosophy, which taught that the universe was derived from and sustained by an underlying music, the "harmony of the spheres." This "harmony" was closely linked to the Logos, the rational ordering principle of the universe, the term later used by the apostle John to describe Christ in John 1:1. Ancient and medieval Christianity accepted and adapted the "harmony of the spheres" concept, and it found its way into the theology of Aquinas, the poetry of Dante, and the astronomy of Kepler. Tolkien, a consummate medievalist, was certainly aware of this prevalent idea. Though a critic must exercise caution when suggesting possible sources for an author's ideas, it seems likely that Tolkien invented his Middle-earth creation story by combining the "harmony of the spheres" concept with such biblical passages as Job 38:6-7, which describes the angels singing as God began Earth's creation:
Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? Or who laid the corner stone
thereof; when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God
shouted for joy?
Middle-earth's creation story may be understood as a quasi-medieval
expression of the biblical understanding of Christ as Logos. Just as
Middle-earth is created and sustained through the sung words of the "Great
Music," so the center of all of God's creation is His Son Jesus Christ, the
Divine Word, "by whom also he made the worlds; who being the brightness of
his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all
things by the word of his power" (Heb. 1:2-3).
A Look Inside: Speakers And Spoken
While these details of magic and cosmology may seem esoteric and confusing to those unfamiliar with Tolkien's works, when put together they help fill out the gaps Tolkien left in his description of magic. Middle-earth was created through the sung word, and a song lies at the heart of all Middle-earth's existence and history. But the peoples of Middle-earth are also singers and speakers. The first race, the elves, named themselves Quendi, "signifying those that speak with voices; for as yet they had met no other living things that spoke or sang" (Silmarillion 49). This emphasis on song and speech is repeated whenever a new race is introduced into Middle-earth (Silmarillion 46, 91-92, 140). Why is the ability to use words so important? The answer is simple, and it is the heart of Tolkien's philosophy of fantasy: because the Word/Song is the metaphysical basis of Middle-earth, the people of Middle-earth-as both speakers/singers and the spoken/sung-have a unique relationship to reality. Magic may be understood as an indication and result of this relationship, the action of a created being that is also creative in its own derivative fashion.
A Look Outside: "On Fairy-Stories"
After examining what may be inferred about magic from within the context of Tolkien's Middle-earth stories, we now move outside the fictional texts to one of Tolkien's non-fiction works, an essay entitled "On Fairy-Stories." This essay, originally delivered as a lecture, is Tolkien's definitive work on the nature and purpose of fantasy literature, and therefore of central importance to this discussion. While it would be impossible even to summarize the entire essay within the short space of this article, some essential points will be discussed briefly.
A Look Outside: Word As Sub-Creation
Early in his essay on fairy-stories, Tolkien deals with the origin of the fairy-story, which he broadly defines as a tale "which touches on or uses Faërie" which may "most nearly be translated [as] Magic" (Fairy-Stories 10). Tolkien disposes of the dominant anthropological theories of his day, preferring instead to maintain that fairy-stories are a natural product of language itself:
The incarnate mind, the tongue, and the tale are in our world coeval. . . . [H]ow powerful, how stimulating to the very faculty that produced it, was the invention of the adjective: no spell or incantation in Faërie is more potent. . . . The mind that thought of light, heavy, grey, yellow, still, swift, also conceived of magic that would make heavy things light and able to fly, turn grey lead into yellow gold, and the still rock into swift water. . . . [I]n such "fantasy," as it is called, new form is made; Faërie begins; Man becomes a sub-creator. (Fairy-Stories 10)According to Tolkien, there is in language an innate "magic," an ability to describe what is not or never was, as if it were so. When this magic is combined with the human faculty of imagination, what is produced is fantasy or Sub-creation (Fairy-Stories 46-47). This term is actually one of a triad of terms coined by Tolkien to describe what goes on in the writing and reading of fantasy: Sub-creation, Secondary World, and Secondary Belief. Sub-creation is the artistic act, usually literary, by which a person fashions a fictional setting in some way dissimilar to reality. This fictional setting, or Secondary World, may then be imaginatively entered by the reader. If the Secondary World is skillfully constructed and internally consistent-if it does not jar its reader back into reality with anachronisms or incongruities-it will produce in the reader Secondary Belief. Secondary Belief is something more profound than mere "suspended disbelief," a determined attempt to suppress one's skeptical and critical faculties for the sake of enjoyment. It is instead a sense of acceptance, of "rightness"-the feeling that, if the story were "real," things would be just as they were described. It is difficult to bring about Secondary Belief even in realistic fiction, so the task is even more daunting in fantasy. As Tolkien wryly points out, anyone can write a book about a world with a green sun, but it takes skill to make it seem credible (Fairy-Stories 48-49). For this reason, Tolkien considers fantasy to be "a higher form of art, indeed the most nearly pure form, and so (when achieved) the most potent" (Fairy-Stories 47).
A Look Outside: The Maker's Image
Is this act of fantasy, of Sub-creation, a good thing? Isn't it just a rather ostentatious form of lying, or evidence of delusion? Tolkien acknowledges this attitude: "To many, Fantasy, this sub-creative art which plays strange tricks with the world and all that is in it, combining nouns and redistributing adjectives, has seemed suspect, if not illegitimate" (Fairy-Stories 53).
Tolkien confronts this objection with a surprisingly positive defense. In his view, fantasy is not merely an escapist exercise to be tolerated but not really encouraged. It is, in fact, part of what it means to be made in the image of God, and therefore one of the noblest rights and capacities of humanity. Tolkien expresses this view powerfully and succinctly: "Fantasy remains a human right: we make in our measure and in our derivative mode, because we are made: and not only made, but made in the image and likeness of a Maker" (Fairy-Stories 55).
Furthermore, Tolkien denies that fantasy is symptomatic of an inability to recognize reality. As he points out, stories of frog princes are based on the real difference between frogs and princes and the incongruity of placing the two together, not a failure to distinguish between frogs and princes. "If men were ever in a state in which they did not want to know or could not perceive truth (facts or evidence), then Fantasy would languish until they are cured . . . Fantasy will perish, and become Morbid Delusion" (Fairy-Stories 54-55). A mind grounded in reality can, using imagination, produce fantasy. A mind that cannot distinguish between reality and imagination produces hallucination and madness.
Tolkien does acknowledge that fantasy may be misused, but does not see this as an argument against fantasy itself:
Fantasy can, of course, be carried to excess. It can be ill done. It can be put to evil uses. It may even delude the minds out of which it came. But of what human thing in the world is that not true? Men have conceived not only of elves, but they have imagined gods, and worshipped them . . . But they have made false gods out of other materials: their notions, their banners, their monies . . . Abusus non tollit usum [Latin: "Wrong use doesn't preclude proper use"]. (Fairy-Stories 55)For Tolkien, regardless of the inappropriate applications of the human gift of fantasy, fantasy remains a part of the imago dei, the image of God within humanity, and as such not merely legitimate but also laudatory.
Inside And Outside: Magic And Fantasy
Now that we've looked both inside and outside the stories, we must put the two perspectives together. When we do this, we discover that there is a significant parallel between the nature of magic within Middle-earth and Tolkien's view of fantasy in the real world. A Speaker created Middle-earth and gave some of His creatures the gift of speech, and these created speakers use their power of speech to change Middle-earth through magic. A Speaker created our world and gave us the gift of speech, and we may use our power of speech to change our world through fantasy. Both magic and fantasy are rooted in the imago dei.
This parallel reveals a playful streak in Tolkien. Throughout "On Fairy-Stories," he describes fantasy as "magic" and "the elvish craft, Enchantment," comparing the human act of Sub-creation to the illusion-weaving abilities of fairies in folklore (Fairy-Stories 10, 52-53). Yet within his Middle-earth stories, magic appears to function similarly to fantasy in the real world, the sub-creative ability of a creature made in the image of its Creator. Fantasy is Magic, which is Fantasy, which is Magic-and Tolkien's fiction and non-fiction refer inquirers to each other, each pointing back at the other as illustrations of themselves.
Tolkien is not merely being coy and evasive when he employs this tactic. The tension created by this deferral demonstrates how truly amazing Tolkien finds the human gift of Sub-creation. For Tolkien, fantasy is not something to be dismissed with a yawn, but rather a miracle that inspires awe. It really is magical; it is numinous; it points away from the everyday world, hinting at mysteries outside our mundane senses. When Sam the hobbit exuberantly declares, "I'd dearly love to see some Elf-magic, Mr. Frodo!" Tolkien is gleefully aware that it is he, the author, who is working the Elf-magic, and that we, the readers, are the ones who get to see the Elf-magic (Fellowship 467). That we don't notice this at the time simply demonstrates the power of the spell Tolkien casts.
In the end, "What is magic in Middle-earth?" is the wrong question, or at least isn't a big enough question. Tolkien wasn't as fascinated by his magic rings and dragons as he was by the fact that he could show these wonders to his readers. For Tolkien, the fantasy is itself the magic and the marvel, and the fantasy points out from itself to the One Who makes it possible. Tolkien could not have made his hobbits if there had been no God Who made humans, and ultimately Tolkien's hobbits are a kind of offering to God, the first fruits of a baptized imagination. Though the words are placed in the mouth of a fictional character, we cannot help but hear Tolkien echoing them, the prayer of a Sub-creator to his Creator:
[T]he making of things is in my heart from my own making by thee; and the child of little understanding that makes a play of the deeds of his father may do so without thought of mockery, but because he is the son of his father . . . As a child to his father, I offer to thee these things, the works of the hands which thou hast made. Do with them what thou wilt. (Silmarillion 43)
Works Cited:
Tolkien, J. R. R. "On Fairy-Stories." The Tolkien Reader, 3-73. New York: Ballantine Books, 1972.
-. The Fellowship of the Ring. New York: Ballantine Books, 1978.
-. The Hobbit. New York: Ballantine Books, 1977.
-. The Return of the King. New York: Ballantine Books, 1975.
-. The Silmarillion. New York: Ballantine Books, 1977
-. The Two Towers. New York: Ballantine Books, 1978.
-. Unfinished Tales. New York: Ballantine Books, 1992.
..........................more:
J. R. R. Tolkien: Myth & Middle-Earth
Harry Potter vs the Muggles:
Myth, Magic & Joy
The Education of Harry Potter: Harry Potter & the Sorceror's Stone
Innocence & Experience: Harry Potter & the Chamber of Secrets
© 2002 Cornerstone Communications, Inc. All rights reserved.