Utopia, the Shire, and World-Building

Note:  Cross-posted from the new blog site, TheImaginativeChristian. Please update your bookmarks to the new site.

In my “Book of Centuries” reading challenge, I have recently read books from or about the 15th and early 16th centuries — including an interesting work, Sir Thomas More’s Utopia (free e-book here).  Thomas More lived in early 16th century England, as a lawyer, judge, statesman, and among King Henry VIII’s advisors; he was also one of the Renaissance humanists and contemporary of Erasmus.  The last seven years of his life are wonderfully told in the movie A Man For All Seasons., More is credited with the creation of the word now well-known in the English language: Utopia.  He wrote this short work, published in 1517, as part satire on late medieval England, describing his vision of the ideal world, an island called Utopia.  This book – following in an ancient tradition of describing an ideal world, and also an early-modern example of “world building” to influence literature in the centuries since — describes in great detail an imaginary place and people, humans who live on a previously undiscovered island, recently visited by one of More’s friends who is telling about it to his colleagues.  We learn about the likes and dislikes of the people of Utopia, what they value as important (and not), how they structure their families, their economy, religious practice, and judicial system.  This BBC article  tells of how Utopia shaped the world through the centuries, inspiring other literary works of Utopias as well as dystopias (H.G. Wells and Orson Welles, for instance) as well as actual planned “utopian” communities.  Through the centuries, many others have been inspired by Thomas More’s Utopia: to their own literary creations — notably, 18th century authors Daniel Defoe (Robinson Crusoe) and Jonathan Swift (Gulliver’s Travels) — or even, especially during the 19th century, their own utopian communal living planned communities.

While reading Utopia I was often reminded of Tolkien’s description of Hobbits and The Shire.  For both are “world building” narrative accounts that describe what a certain type of people are like, who live in a seemingly perfect world.  In both cases, the characters exhibit positive traits not seen in our actual human societies, and as we read them we are reminded that these ideal people are not as sinful and wicked as all of us in our actual societies.  More’s Utopians are communistic (no private property), have no interest in gold or jewels, have a very healthy lifestyle and delight in being healthy (without excessive enjoyment of food), love education and learning, all contribute their work equally and thus only have to work six hours per day, and are spiritually contemplative.

Tolkien’s hobbits of course describe Tolkien’s view of the idyllic life, with some differences.  Yet, like the Utopians, they are peaceful and communal, and are generally not enamored of gold and jewels–and the ones that are, such as the Sackville-Baggins, are notable exceptions.  Similar idyllic/utopian characteristics are that hobbits give others small gifts for their birthdays, and hobbits have never warred with and killed other hobbits.

Tolkien’s genius expands even beyond the basic world-building, of an idyllic society of the Shire — to even include an example, within the actual Middle Earth legendarium, of a character within that world who in his own thoughts comes up with and puts forth in practice his own idea of a “perfect world,” albeit more of a dystopian world.  For that is essentially what Saruman does at Isengard.  Not content with the world as it is, Saruman transforms his part of Middle Earth into a place of machinery and technology, even breeding his own race of Orcs (possibly like the Nephilim/Giants of old) that have abilities beyond previous evil beings.  As Treebeard described the transformation of Isengard by Saruman:

He is plotting to become a Power.  He has a mind of metal and wheels; and he does not care for growing things, except as far as they serve him for the moment. …. He has taken up with foul folk, with the Orcs.  Worse than that: he has been doing something to them; something dangerous.  For these Isengarders are more like wicked Men.  It is a mark of evil things that came in the Great Darkness that they cannot abide the Sun; but Saruman’s Orcs can endure it, even if they hate it.  I wonder what he has done?  Are they Men he has ruined, or has he blended the races of Orcs and Men?  That would be a black evil! . . .

Only lately did I guess that Saruman was to blame… He and his foul folk are making havoc now.  Down on the borders they are felling trees-good trees.  Some of the trees they just cut down and leave to rot – orc-mischief that; but most are hewn up and carried off to feed the fires of Orthanc.  There is always a smoke rising from Isengard these days.

After Saruman is defeated, the Ents transform Isengard into a true utopian place, a garden — in which we have a glimpse of the original paradise, that ideal and utopia that mankind has longed for ever since the Fall and expulsion from that garden of paradise.

Norse Mythology, the Chronicles of Narnia, and the Long Winter

IMPORTANT NOTE:  Please see this and other blog posts at new site, The Imaginative Christian.

As I read through the “Book of Centuries” in the 2024 Literary Life Podcast Reading Challenge, some thoughts to share regarding mythology and the Ancient World. My knowledge of mythology before this year was limited (and far more familiarity with J.R.R. Tolkien’s mythology), and so I recently read two works of mythology: Stephen Fry’s Mythos (most of it anyway) and Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology.

It has often been said that both C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien borrowed heavily from Norse mythology, and indeed some elements of it are familiar, such as the basic existence of elves and dwarves–though with very little mention especially of elves. The dwarves are somewhat familiar, though, with their focus on their work in the mines and the making of things from the Earth’s natural resources. The role of Loki in Norse mythology, as revealed in later stories, reminded me a lot of Melkor/Morgoth in Tolkien’s The Silmarillion.

The stronger, direct influences of mythology that I notice, however, are in C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia –and not surprisingly, since it was Lewis’ use of mythological characters, with unexpected characteristics, that Tolkien so disliked in his reading of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. It is in Narnia that we find the nymphs and Dryads, Naiads, Centaurs, Fauns, and many more legendary talking creatures, and even appearances from the Greek and Roman mythical characters Bacchus and Father Time. Wikipedia has a comprehensive list of all the mythological characters in Chronicles of Narnia, including Lewis’ own creation such as the Marsh-wiggles. In Narnia, these characters are not even restricted to the background. In The Last Battle we actually see a Dryad dying (true to their nature within Greek mythology) as her tree has been cut down (along with many other Dryads and their trees) due to the Ape / False Aslan’s radical environmental destruction.

Norse mythology also tells about an evil wolf character, from which came C.S. Lewis’ Fenris Ulf, Captain of the Secret Police, at least in earlier editions of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, including the paperback edition I have from the late 1980s. Over the years I have also heard this character called by a different name, Maugrim, and this Wikipedia entry explains the history of the names that Lewis used. It was for the earlier American editions that Lewis supplied the name Fenris Ulf; the BBC version, as well as American printings since 1994, use a different name of Maugrim.

One surprise I found near the end of Norse Mythology, in the description of Ragnarok, the eschatology within Norse mythology. The description of the future end times is remarkably similar to that of the Christian view as seen in Revelation and similar passages in the Bible, such as texts that describe signs in the sky, disasters such as earthquakes, fire, flooding and seas rising, and death of many creatures, and even the disappearance of the moon and the stars. Even more interesting, is a description of the last days including a never-ending winter — another vivid reminder of the 100 years of winter, the spell cast on Narnia by the White Witch in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe:

It will begin with the winter. This will not be a normal winter. The winter will begin, and it will continue, winter following winter. There will be no spring, no warmth. People will be hungry and they will be cold and they will be angry.

. . .

This will be the time of the terrible winter that will not end, the Fimbulwinter. There will be snow driving in from all directions, fierce winds, and cold colder than you have ever imagined cold could be, an icy cold so cold your lungs will ache when you breathe, so cold that the tears in your eyes will freeze. There will be no spring to relieve it, no summer, no autumn. Only winter, followed by winter, followed by winter.

C.S. Lewis’ version of this includes some apocalyptic references, though toned down for a children’s book: the evil white witch has put a curse upon Narnia, so that it is always winter; always winter and never Christmas, and the land has been under this eternal winter for a long time. (Though never explicitly mentioned in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, we learn from other writings and the Narnian chronology that this winter lasted for 100 years.) Yet directly connected with this cursed winter, are prophecies that must be fulfilled, prophecies associated with Aslan and that will put an end to the winter and usher in a new golden age, a utopia.

It is so interesting to learn of all of these associations and connections between Norse mythology and the Chronicles of Narnia, including the unending winter of Ragnarok in Norse mythology.

Till We Have Faces: Mythology / Fairy Tale (re-told) from C.S. Lewis

Also posted at:  https://theimaginativechristian.wordpress.com/2024/01/16/till-we-have-faces-mythology-fairy-tale-re-told-from-c-s-lewis/

Lately, mythology has been coming up a lot in my reading:  the classical Greek myths as related in Stephen Fry’s Mythos (audio book), and frequent allusions to mythology in Dante’s DIvine Comedy, Part I Inferno:  his guide is Virgil the poet; and references to Hades, the river Styx, and other characters from mythology especially in the underworld. (This is through the “100 Days of Dante” program, a great educational literary program that sets up a schedule of reading Dante’s Divine Comedy, 1 chapter (canto) at a time, three days a week — Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays — for 100 cantos.)

Also, in e-book format, I’ve started reading C.S. Lewis’ less well known, last published fiction work: Till We Have Faces, published in 1956 — while he was married to Joy Davidman, and the book is dedicated to her —  a re-telling of the classic Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche.  Just prior to this, I had read in Stephen Fry’s Mythos the extended story of Cupid and Psyche, which is really more of a fairy tale than standard mythology, in its literary genre.  Lewis’ novel came about from his dissatisfaction with the Greek story — that some of the main characters’ actions were illogical.  So, Lewis’ version is told from the first person human point of view (thus missing the front end part about what was happening with the gods, including the events with Aphrodite and Cupid), as an extended account and the experiences of Psyche’s oldest sister, Orual.

In the Mythos/Greek version, both older sisters are hateful and have no love for young Psyche, and from these bad motives convince Psyche to look at her invisible husband/god and slay the Beast (that they suppose he is) and tell her terrible things about the gods; Psyche later repays vengeance to them, telling them lies that bring about their death.  Though I’m still reading and will find out later what happens in Lewis’ version, the oldest sister lives through the event, to tell about it years later — as an old woman and the ruling queen of her land of Glome.

J.R.R. Tolkien famously created his own mythology — mythology with a basic flavor and element of Christianity, one that aspires to so much more than the real pagan mythology — and so too the other famous Inkling, C.S. Lewis, took his turn with mythology.  Whereas Tolkien created a vast epic with many characters and many stories, some connected with each other, along with many separate tales within an overall Legendarium, Lewis’ approach was that of the traditional novel with a detailed story and plot and character development,  myth retold and likewise Christianized.  Both authors thus, in their own ways, present fairy stories and mythology, re-done and repurposed at a higher Christian level.  (Regarding Tolkien’s The Silmarillion, for instance:  even though Tolkien’s Silmarillion has a lot of sad, depressing content, and a sense of loss, there is still a quality of joy and hope, and also too a special quality of what is NOT there.  Unlike the classic Greek mythology, and its earthy tone in the reading from Stephen Fry’s Mythos, Tolkien’s Valar and Maiar spiritual creatures are not interested in procreating with the lesser humans and having numerous adulterous affairs or in the vulgar, worldly topics of conversation typical of the Greek gods.)

Along with reading Till We Have Faces, I have found two helpful podcasts/lesson series going through the book, and have already listened to the sessions covering the first chapters:  a literary conversation in 7 parts, at The Literary Life Podcast (in the episodes found in these months August 2020, September 2020, and October 2020), and a 14 part teaching series (full YouTube playlist here) from “The Tolkien Professor” at Mythgard Academy  — this latter series just recently concluded.  As both have noted, though C.S. Lewis himself considered this his best novel, it is the least well-known and least-read of all Lewis’ fiction. So many adults and children enjoy the wonder and fantasy in The Chronicles of Narnia and many also enjoy his classic Space Trilogy work.

A lot of the problem people have with Till We Have Faces is their expectations of what to expect — it’s a retelling of a pagan myth, after all, and C.S. Lewis is “the greatest Christian apologist of the 20th century.” Further, the setting of this retold myth is a classic pagan setting — far back BC, in an imprecise location and history of a place called Glome, which has some dealings with Greece–a Greece not in its Alexandrian ascendancy, so prior to the time of Alexander the Great. (The original story, of Cupid and Psyche, has similar ancient roots; though its first written form that we know of is 2nd century AD, it has a long oral history going back to the truly ancient Greek era.)  The characters are all in this pagan setting, familiar with animal and human sacrifices and “the gods” but no mention (at least as far as I’ve read) of Hebrews or the Judeo-Christian God.

Yet knowing what to expect, and after a few weeks of reading some mythology, I find that Till We Have Faces is actually quite easy and enjoyable reading, a well-written narrative that is easy to understand and follow — and that also has, in keeping with Lewis’ other fiction, deeper levels of understanding, appreciation for deep emotions and depth of character, and allegory.  It’s not children’s reading such as Narnia, with a much darker subject matter, along with a main character who is not all that likeable (she is not the happy, easy going, likeable and winsome character of most fiction).  Till We Have Faces, though, is no more difficult to read and understand than the first two books of the Space Trilogy–and easier to get through than That Hideous Strength.

The Imaginative Christian: 2023 Books I Read

Among the many books I read in 2023 (44 total, per my Goodreads summary) are several within the general categories of Christian Humanism and the Imaginative Conservative / Imaginative Christian.  I read G.K. Chesterton works for the first time, re-read (after several decades) a few C.S. Lewis classics, as well as a few new-to-me short stories and other tales from J.R.R. Tolkien — along with rereading of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.

G.K. Chesterton

The Father Brown Mystery Stories  This collection is a nice, pleasant and short read, a great introduction to Chesterton’s well-known Father Brown stories about a Catholic priest who has great powers of observation and human nature, much of which comes from his experience as a priest listening to the confessions of people in his parish church.  This collection contains nine stories out of the much larger collection of all of the Father Brown stories.  The stories reveal some time progression, as one character starts out as an expert jewelry thief and later reforms and even assists Father Brown in solving other jewelry heists.  The stories are each fairly short, some more interesting than others, all following a basic formula, and Father Brown solves the mystery and all the loose ends each time.

The Everlasting Man (1925):  This interesting work from 1925 was a great apologetics work from Chesterton, his rebuttal to H.G. Wells’ The Outline of History, confronting and responding to the evolutionary, materialist worldview with the fullness of Christianity.  This work was apparently instrumental in C.S. Lewis’ conversion from atheism to theism in the late 1920s, “prompting him to observe that a young man who is serious about his atheism cannot be too careful about what he reads.”  This article at the Society of G.K. Chesterton provides a summary and interesting info about The Everlasting Man.

The True Saint Nicholas

From William J. Bennett, a fun reading see previous post), about the history of the true Saint Nicholas and of all the legends about him through the centuries, down to the present day Santa Claus.

C.S. Lewis:  The Great Divorce, and The Screwtape Letters

See this previous post, mainly about The Great Divorce, with some mention of The Screwtape Letters.

J.R.R. Tolkien Other Stories

The Fall of Numenor: and other Tales from the Second Age of Middle-Earth

See these previous posts:  Thoughts on Tolkien’s Tales of the Second Age: The Mariner’s Wife  and The Straight Road, Numenor, and Hope in Middle Earth after the Second Age.

The Adventures of Tom Bombadil

These stories about Tom Bombadil were originally written by Tolkien in the 1930s, after which he included the character in an expanded role in Fellowship of the Ring.  These stories were then published in a little book with lovely illustrations by Pauline Baynes, in 1962.

Leaf by Niggle, a wonderful short story — allegory or mythical story – that has autobiographic reference to Tolkien’s life, as well as a wonderful statement on sub-creation and the meaning of our lives.  See this previous post about it from earlier this year.

J.R.R. Tolkien Non-Fiction

Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien – I re-read this earlier this year, always a great read with so many insights from the author throughout the years.  Just recently, a revised and expanded edition has been published – on my list of books to read, one I hope to obtain a copy of, sometime in the next year perhaps.  My post from earlier this year: J.R.R. Tolkien and Sub-Creation: The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien.

Tolkien: A Celebration – a great collection of essays about J.R.R. Tolkien, from many different writers, published in 1999.  My previous posts:  George Sayer’s Friendship with J.R.R. Tolkien and Tolkien: A Celebration – Intro to Tolkien Scholarship.

 

The True Saint Nicholas: Why He Matters to Christmas (William J. Bennett book)

For this year’s Christmas post, thoughts on another great, fun Christmas book.  Last Christmas I read Letters from Father Christmas for the first time (and in audio book format).  See this previous post.

This December, I have read another enjoyable book, one that tells us a lot about a famous Christmas tradition, including its original story and the legends that have come about in the 1600 years since then, legends and traditions from medieval times as well as in recent centuries and here and now as people in the USA and other countries observe Christmas.  The True Saint Nicholas: Why He Matters to Christmas, by William J. Bennett, is a delightful small book — at 112 pages an easy and pleasant read.  There are other, longer books that provide detailed histories of the true Bishop, Saint Nicholas of Myra, but this one in a well-written, brief form provides us the history of Saint Nicholas himself, as well as the history of the legend of Saint Nicholas, tracing the path through the centuries and including all the legends from earliest time, down to today’s Father Christmas in England and the history and development of Christmas as a holiday in the United States (starting in the early 19th century) and the character of Santa Claus.

The basic information about Nicholas and his life is presented first, including the years he lived, the basic life events, and including his involvement at the First Ecumenical Council held in 325 AD in Nicaea, and how he became so infuriated at the heretic Arius and his lies that he slapped Arius across the face – for which he was censured by the other bishops and not allowed to remain for the rest of the council; and per a later vision that several other bishops had, Nicholas was later restored to his position.

Also included here is the story of the true Saint Nicholas, that he wanted to give away his money and sought for needs and situations, and learned about a family that had been well-off but had fallen on hard times and lost their money and was now desperately poor.  The father had three unmarried daughters, but now nothing to provide for their dowries, to arrange good marriages for them and saw the only option as to sell them into servitude.  Nicholas, the story goes, went by the house late at night and through an open window tossed a few gold coins – enough for them to pay off their debts and live with adequate provision, and for the first daughter to have a dowry.  Later on, when the second daughter was of age for a dowry, Nicholas again visited the house and tossed the gold coins in the window, to pay for her dowry.  He returned again a third time in the same manner, with the gold coins for the third daughter’s dowry.  That time, the father managed to race after and track down who his anonymous benefactor was; and Nicholas requested that the father keep his identity secret.

This book is truly delightful, in its tone and writing, simply telling the wonder of all the great stories and legends, of how Nicholas became a “patron saint” for those traveling at sea during storms, for merchants, and in later years as a saint who especially loved children.  The history of names is also interesting, such as how the Dutch name Sinterklaas came down to America as “Santa Claus,” and the “Dutch connection” in early 19th century American history, when a man in New York City, taking interest in his city’s heritage and the Dutch ancestors of the city, promoted and publicized the cultural history, of how the Dutch families and children had observed their Christmases.

Throughout, this book exudes the sense of wonder and enchantment and the basic values of a life properly lived in harmony with other people and toward God.  I especially liked how he addressed the “anti-Santa” issue of modern times, the valid concern that many people today have toward the excess consumerism focus:

Most tiny tots with their eyes all aglow spend Christmas Eve wondering about the mystery of flying reindeer, not the mystery of the Nativity. Santa long ago exchanged his bishop’s robes and miter for a jolly red suit and pointed cap. Saint Nicholas himself received a blow in 1969 when the Vatican, concluding that his reputation was based more on legend than historical fact, removed him from the ranks of major Catholic saints and made his feast day optional. (In the Eastern Orthodox Church, Nicholas remains one of the most widely venerated saints.)

Some overseas critics resent Santa’s popularity. American soldiers began introducing him to foreign lands during the First and Second World Wars. Hollywood movies and television shows helped spread his fame around the globe. In many countries, people adopted him into their Christmas celebrations.

Where Santa Claus has pushed aside local customs, protests have naturally followed. Small but vocal groups deride him as a purveyor of crass American consumerism, a cheap knock-off of Saint Nicholas. Santa has been burned in effigy before French Sunday-school children. An Anglican vicar once accused him of being a thief who “is stealing the true value of Christmas.” Towns in the Netherlands and Belgium have been known to stage mock arrests of Santa Claus and forbid him to appear until after December 6, Saint Nicholas Day. A group of anti-Santa German Catholics has called him “a pack horse of consumer society, nothing more.”

The author, William J. Bennett, acknowledges that “Santa is here to stay,” and points to what is perhaps the most famous editorial in the history of American journalism, the 1897 essay “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” including a few paragraph excerpts from that classic letter.

Moderation, balance and proper perspective is of key importance:  there is nothing wrong with exchanging gifts at Christmastime…. It is when we lose a sense of moderation, when Santa’s bag overflows with too many goodies, that the gift-giving and receiving becomes a problem. As the ancient philosophers remind us, there is a proper measure in all things.

Bennett again notes that there was always a commercial, material connection with Saint Nicholas.  Ship captains and merchants looked to Saint Nicholas for profitable voyages and lucrative merchant deals.  Trade guilds appropriated him in hopes of selling more buttons, barrels, and boots. Hymns proclaimed his power to satisfy: “If anyone place himself before thy painted image, Nicholas, he will have what he wants.” Youngsters looked to the kindly bishop for gain. “Saint Nicholas, my good patron, bring me something good!” ran one old French children’s song.

In the end, we can see in the story of Saint Nicholas and later versions such as Santa Clause, “A Legacy of God’s Love,” the title of the last chapter of The True Saint Nicholas: Why He Matters to Christmas. The stories of Saint Nicholas / Santa Claus are arguably true in a more important way.

They are morally true. They offer generosity, kindness, justice, and self-sacrifice over avarice, cruelty, injustice, and self-indulgence. They are about the celebration of human closeness and decency, and the caring for others. They are about families at the hearth. In their totality, they are about the raising of sights and efforts toward a better life.

The image of Saint Nicholas has changed many times through the years. He has always reflected people’s longings and needs, whether that be a handful of grain, a safe port in a storm, or a gesture of love. Santa Claus is part of that evolving image. At his best, he stands for virtues that Saint Nicholas champions: compassion, service, selflessness, largeness of spirit.

There is one essential truth in the stories of Nicholas and Santa Claus: the goodness of the gift offered with no expectation of anything in return. The value of three bags tossed through a window in Patara long ago does not lie in the gold they contained. The act of giving and the effects of the act make those bags priceless. That same spirit lives in our time in a parent or other adult who with secret joy watches a wonder-struck child discover on Christmas morning that Santa has paid a nighttime visit.

Santa Claus is, in a very real sense, the result of a Christ-inspired goodness that has rippled across seventeen centuries, from Nicholas’s time to our own. Despite secularization and commercialization, Santa Claus is a manifestation of Nicholas’s decision to give to others. The history of Saint Nicholas and Santa Claus is a kind of miracle in itself. It is a legacy that resonates with God’s love.

Subcreation in The Silmarillion: Aule and the Creation of the Dwarves

Continuing from the previous post, for today an example of how to apply the four (medieval) ways of reading one of the stories from The Silmarillion:  the account “Of Yavanna and Aule.”

 

 

 

For reference, the four ways (or levels) of reading all literature:

1. The literal/historical approach
2. Allegorical / typological (Not the formal or “crude” allegory such as The Pilgrim’s Progress)
3. Ethical / moral
4. Eschatological / end purpose — What hope does this passage point us to?

As applied to this account, an early chapter in The Silmarillion:

• The literal/historical approach: When does this story take place? Tens of thousands of years before Lord of the Rings, very early in the creation, before the appearance of the children of Iluvatar (elves and men).

Who are the characters?  Just four – Aule, Iluvatar, Yavanna and Manwe.  Aule is a smith type character, but not (as is often exhibited in folk tales) hobbled or lame.  As Tolkien described in his letters, all of the Valar characters are unfallen Angels, in contrast with the gods of pagan mythology.  Aule could be viewed as an unfallen version of Sauron.  Yavanna is specifically concerned with growing things, such as trees and flowers.  Manwe is The Lord of the West, and in him we have a parallel to the archangel Michael.  He knows most deeply the mind of Iluvatar.

In this story we have the origin of both the Eagles and the Ents. We also have the basic story as presented.  Aule makes an honest mistake, going off by himself to create.  He repents when he is confronted.

• Allegorical / typological: In this story we have the quality of love from creatures to their creator, a love that is free.  Also we see a picture of prayer and repentance.  Another major element is the father/son relationship, and sub-creation by the child (Aule).  Other themes include the connection between speech and logos (discourse or reason).  Aule at first speaks to the dwarves, but stops speaking when Iluvatar shows up.  Here and elsewhere throughout The Silmarillion, we see that a special silence occurs every time that something is to be created: an example of silent prayer.

• Ethical/moral: the dangers of subcreation that goes off on its own, in isolating oneself and doing something without God.  The lonely artist in his tower — the modern notion of an artist — is clearly opposite of Tolkien’s view.  Another caution is against limited love and lack of empathy.  Both Yavanna and Aule have a limited capacity for love, beyond their own specialty — Aule with the dwarves and Yavanna only with trees and growing things.  It takes a mediator, Manwe, a priestly figure, who is able to understand and connect with both Aule and Yavanna.

• The Hope: to look forward to the day when our sub-created works will be as like and unlike the original versions as we ourselves will be. As Tolkien said in On Fairy Stories, “All Tales may yet come true.”  That includes even the things we make, marred by our impatience.  This story fo Aule and Yavanna is relevant for artists, writers, as well as for parents.  Paul talks about building on the foundation.  What we do well, with holiness, is what will endure.  According to our obedience to God, and how He has revealed to us Hiw will for each of us, that becomes permanently part of paradise.