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Archive for May, 2022

A friend had recommended some Tolkien resources, including Matthew Dickerson’s books such as Following Gandalf and A Hobbit Journey.  So, I’ve purchased and am now reading through Following Gandalf; since then I’ve realized that the second book, A Hobbit Journey, is similar content, with most of the same chapters, an updated version of Following Gandalf.

Dickerson’s writing is interesting, with a lot of good details, and so I’ll start with the content in chapter 1: Epic Battles.  Here, Dickerson looks at Tolkien’s view of battle and war, by noting the four battles (one in The Hobbit, and three in Lord of the Rings) plus the skirmish that Sam witnesses (where he sees an Oliphaunt)  and how they are described, to show that — contrary to a colleague’s perception — Tolkien does not glorify violence and war.  The battles of course are mostly told from the hobbits’ perspectives:  Bilbo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin — with one exception, Helms Deep, that the hobbits are absent from.  Each narration from the seemingly most unimportant character (a hobbit), one that is not a participant in the battle, along with descriptions about misery and being uncomfortable, and sad and sorrowful (especially in Merry’s experience at the “Battle of the Pelennor Fields”), shows Tolkien’s view of the unpleasantness of war.  For instance, the words of Sam after the fight between Faramir’s men and the Southrons:

It was Sam’s first view of a battle of Men against Men, and he did not like it much. He was glad that he could not see the dead face. He wondered what the man’s name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would not really rather have stayed there in peace.

Dickerson brings out interesting details regarding the Rohirrim as like the Anglo-Saxons (with the addition of a love of horses not known of Anglo-Saxons).  Certainly the general impression of the people of Rohan is that of northern Europe, such as the Vikings.  But a literary reference to Beowulf makes the connection to the Anglo Saxons.  The “welcome” from the guard to Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli in book three of The Two Towers, follows the pattern of the welcome given to Beowulf and his warriors by the beach guards, a scene where they visit Hrothgar.  Dickerson shows us the wording of the two speeches, with the same basic wording, sentence structure and sequence, with just a few words changed, in relation to the specific plot points.

We also have good analysis of the complex character of Eowyn — Tolkien’s Eowyn, not the Peter Jackson movie “dumbed-down” young woman who just has a crush on Aragorn.  Keeping to the battle theme, Dickerson points out more specifically that her desire for death in battle was an Anglo Saxon ideal.

In sparing her from death, Tolkien gives his reader the opportunity to see the healing she later finds.   It is by the author’s grace that Eowyn does not die but is able to learn that the type of glory she sought earlier is not the answer.”  Eowyn’s “illness” is a desire for glory.

Tolkien, in his caring, thoughtful portrayal of Eowyn and her later healing, also makes it clear that it not “solely a womanly virtue to abandon the glories of the battlefield, and turn instead to the house and garden and the pursuit of peace, but as a manly virtue as well.”  The later chapter in book 6 of Return of the King, “The Steward and the King,” is a great conclusion to the healing of both Faramir and Eowyn.

Dickerson’s commentary on the “Contest” at Helm’s Deep between Legolas and Gimli is also worth reading, for any who might still think that Tolkien glorified war.  It is interesting that the Helm’s Deep chapter is where we see several friendships developed and/or strengthened: Aragorn and Eomer, Gimli and Eomer, and especially the strengthening of the friendship between Gimli and Legolas, as we see their real concern for each other.

I’m now nearing the end of Following Gandalf, with lots of additional thoughts on many more topics in Tolkien’s Middle Earth.

 

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A year-long weekly devotional I’m reading this year, features selected writings from the Early Church Fathers.  In Ancient Christian Devotional: A Year of Weekly Readings, Lectionary Cycle A (at Amazon, and also at Abe Books here), week 22 has this interesting quote from Bede (known as the Venerable Bede, from early medieval England), in his commentary on 1 Peter:  “He [Jesus] comes to us daily to visit the light which he has given us, in order to tend it and to help it grow. This is why he is called not only the shepherd but also the guardian of our souls.”

Light is one of the Bible’s metaphors, directly referenced by Christ:  I am the light of the world  (John 8:12).  We often think of light as a metaphor for illumination, the light bulb going off in our head “Aha!” moments.  The Bible describes light similarly, referring to Holy Spirit illumination.  And yes, we all know by experience, the small flicker of a candle, and the light that increases and spreads, dispelling darkness.  The sun at its rising just begins to light up the darkness, but soon the dark of night passes, and the sun blazes up at mid-day as it continues its path across the sky.  Psalm 19:4-6   gives such a wonderful description:

In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun.
It is like a bridegroom coming from his home; it rejoices like an athlete running a course.
It rises from one end of the heavens and circles to their other end;

Returning to Bede, and the idea of light that God gives us and that He tends it to help it (the light) grow:  I cannot help but be reminded here, of the scene that J.R.R. Tolkien depicts for us near the end of The Two Towers, of Frodo and Sam in Shelob’s Lair.  This gift (among many) of Galadriel — symbolic of grace and special gifts given us by God — mentioned previously in Fellowship of the Ring, takes on great prominence in the tunnel, when the hobbits remember this gift and start to use it in that desperate hour.  For this chapter gives us a taste, a powerful picture in the mind, of the power of God and His workings, how He gives us light and tends it and helps it to grow in our lives.  For Frodo and Sam, like us, have the spiritual gift given, along with the Holy Spirit power (symbolized in the elves of ancient days).  Note that along with the phial itself, both Frodo and Sam are also found here to be speaking in tongues:  words in the elvish language, words they do not know or understand, come from their mouths, along with the power of the light itself.

Similar to sunlight, the phial of Galadriel starts small, then growing to greater light, when Frodo first reaches for it.  Also interesting, in this first scene and later in the chapter, the light’s power and effectiveness varies, either increasing or decreasing in intensity based on the bearer’s experience of hope and strength of will/spirit:

Slowly his hand went to his bosom, and slowly he held aloft the Phial of Galadriel.  For a moment it glimmered, faint as a rising star struggling in heavy earthward mists, and then as its power waxed, and hope grew in Frodo’s mind, it began to burn, and kindled to a silver flame, a minute heart of dazzling light….  The darkness receded from it until it seemed to shine in the centre of a globe of airy crystal, and the hand that held it sparkled with white fire.

As we soon learn, the monster was not immediately deterred.  Soon, Frodo and Sam, horror-stricken, began slowly to back away … Frodo’s hand wavered, and slowly the Phial drooped.  Frodo and Sam momentarily escape, and then the phial serves as a basic light, at the level that we might consider a lantern or flashlight, as they run down the tunnel and then, while Sam holds the phial (rather like a lantern), Frodo has enough light to cut the cords of Shelob’s web for their next escape.

Then in the climactic scene, where Sam the hero shines forth, we observe:   

As if his indomitable spirit had set its potency in motion, the glass blazed suddenly like a white torch in his hand. It flamed like a star that leaping from the firmament sears the dark air with intolerable light.  No such terror out of heaven had ever burned in Shelob’s face before.  The beams of it entered into her wounded head and scored it with unbearable pain, and the dreadful infection of light spread from eye to eye.

These great descriptions, of light, and hope, and beauty abound in Tolkien’s Middle Earth, among the many reasons we so love to visit — and then to return to our world, strengthened and renewed in hope.

 

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A reader recently recommended a few George MacDonald fantasy fiction and longer length novels for my reading.  Interestingly enough, one of these titles, The Wise Woman, is the current monthly free offer at Christianaudio.com.  For the last few years I have collected the monthly free audio books at ChristianAudio, and have read several of the more interesting ones.  The George MacDonald title is a little over 5 hours, and good audio quality.

MacDonald’s books are in the public domain, here at Project Gutenberg in several formats, as well as at Librivox.org, a great source for free audio recordings of books in the public domain.  Since Librivox works with volunteers, not all the recordings are of the best quality, but many I have listened to over the years have been good quality.

As is well known, George MacDonald’s stories were a great influence on several 20th century authors, especially C.S. Lewis, and others such as G.K. Chesterton, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Madeleine L’Engle, such that he is now known as the “grandfather” of the Inklings.  See this article regarding Tolkien’s earlier and later views regarding George MacDonald

The Wise Woman is a parable (as indicated in the full title), a story about two very spoiled and undisciplined little girls, one a wealthy princess and one a rural commoner, and how a mysterious character, the wise woman, takes them away from their surroundings, to her cottage, and through many lessons teaches them self-control and character.  It reads as much closer to allegory, at places reminding me of the “Pilgrim’s Progress” type of allegory; it is not quite in that pure, formal form of allegory, but at many places the characters and events clearly have a particular meaning, about our actions and behavior.

MacDonald is also much more focused on morality lessons for children.  This story certainly fits in the tradition that had been established earlier in the 19th century by the efforts of William Wilberforce and the Clapham Sect, including the morality tracts and books of Hannah More.   The fantasy elements are within the context of this world, not fully developed into a separate world such as Narnia or Middle Earth, and C.S. Lewis clearly improved on the fairy story in his generation.  I recall some of the children’s moral lesson aspect in Chronicles of Narnia, but in Lewis’ writing this is toned down compared to MacDonald.  But as an influence on Lewis’ imagination, MacDonald can be appreciated in his own right, and as a step along the way to the 20th century fantasy writing.  Another key feature of MacDonald’s The Wise Woman, which Lewis and Tolkien also continued, is the use of poetry and songs and appreciation for beauty in nature.

The Wise Woman is certainly worth reading, a short read and especially in a good audio recording.

 

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“Comfort, Comfort my people,” is a well-known Bible verse, the beginning of Isaiah 40 and the great “gospel of Isaiah,” the second major part of the book of Isaiah. In my readings through Lord of the Rings, the idea of “Be not afraid” and “comfort” sticks out, coming up so many times throughout the hobbits’ journey. Just as “do not fear” is the most repeated commandment in the Bible, so Tolkien included this idea in the world of Middle Earth. Indeed, the words comfort and variation comfortable occur 145 times in The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.

Often the word “comfort” simply comes out in the conversation, such as telling someone to “take comfort in that thought” that has just been shared. When Merry was Gandalf’s passenger, and — rather like the child in the back seat on a long road trip asking “are we there yet?” — mentioned that the rag-tag was tired and would like to lie down, Gandalf replied with several comments about Saruman (The Two Towers, Book 3, The Voice of Saruman), including this: “If it is any comfort to your pride, I should say that, at the moment, you and Pippin are more in his thoughts than all the rest of us.”

When Sam thought Frodo had died, and had decided to leave Frodo and venture forward on his own, Sam lifted up the Phial for one last look at his master’s face, and with the bitter comfort of that last sight Sam turned and hid the light and stumbled on into the growing dark.

Then, when darker times approach, and the world situation is looking bleaker and more dangerous, Gandalf speaks comfort to those around him. As described by Pippin, an event during the first days of his ride with Gandalf on Shadowfax, their flight to Minas Tirith: And hardly had they reached its shelter when the winged shadow had passed over once again, and men wilted with fear. But Gandalf had spoken soft words to him, and he had slept in a corner, tired but uneasy, dimly aware of comings and goings and of men talking and Gandalf giving orders.

A short time later, after Gandalf tells Pippin some of the lore of Minas Tirith and Gondor, Pippin stirred uneasily. “Sleep again, and do not be afraid!” said Gandalf. “For you are not going like Frodo to Mordor, but to Minas Tirith, and there you will be as safe as you can be anywhere in these days.”

Related to this, Pippin is an interesting character study. Behind all the cheer and “hobbit pertness,” and his getting into trouble by doing ill-advised things such as throwing a pebble down an open pit in the ground, and then the evil of stealing the Palantir stone from Gandalf, we find out that Pippin also has some natural timidness and he is often fearful, a quality brought up from time to time, including in book 5 of Return of the King, where much of the narrative is told from his perspective.

Here again I observe one of the many differences from the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings films — the character of Pippin in the films is that of an arrogant, obnoxious hobbit, not really all that likable. I’ve started reading Matthew Dickerson’s Following Gandalf (published in 2003, and written after the first of the three movies had been released), and he noted a similar thing about the first Peter Jackson film and the portrayal of some of the other characters. As Dickerson pointed out, Jackson’s movie provided incomplete and inaccurate portrayals of Elrond and Galadriel: “the overall images we get of Elrond and Galadriel in the films are not predominantly ones of kindness, love, or understanding—the words used by Tolkien to describe them—but images that are harsh and sinister.” Based on such observations in Following Gandalf, I suspect that in Dickerson’s updated version, A Hobbit Journey, written several years later, he included more such comparisons, of where the later Jackson movies so twisted and distorted the characters in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings.

So, reader interaction time:  what are some other incidents in Lord of the Rings that stick out to you, that show the theme of comfort in fearful, distressing situations?

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For those interested, I recently found this online class series.  Michael J. Kruger, from Reformed Theological Seminary, did a 7 part series on the worlds of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, as a Wednesday night class with student interaction, in the fall of 2020.  This post has all of the mp3 downloads as well as powerpoint “handout” files showing the topic outlines for each session.  After the intro on the authors, each week takes a look at various Christian themes in Tolkien’s writings as well as in Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series:

  • The Fall: Sin and Evil in Narnia and Middle Earth
  • Redemption: Images of Christ in Narnia
  • Redemption: Images of Christ in Middle Earth
  • Sanctification: Duty, Honor and Courage
  • Sanctification: Friendship and Loyalty
  • Glorification: End Times in Narnia and Middle Earth

So far I’ve listened to the second lesson, and it’s a good general overview with some specific character examples.  He makes reference to The Silmarillion in addition to the Lord of the Rings, and mentioned that, though he would give examples from both Tolkien and Lewis, he tended to favor Tolkien and would likely have more teaching there, as he had more familiarity with Tolkien’s writings — plus, as he said, there’s more content to work with from Tolkien.  As just a minor criticism, I observe that Kruger must not have read the appendices after Return of the King, as he is off on his pronunciations.  (The word “Cirith” as in Cirith Ungol, in Tolkien’s world is pronounced with a “K” sound as Kirith, not Sirith, for example.)

Overall, though, Kruger’s series is interesting so far and worth listening to, or reading through the Powerpoint notes outlines.  I’ve previously listened to some of Kruger’s other teachings, including some of his study on the book of Hebrews.  I recall that Kruger from time to time has used illustrations from Narnia and Middle Earth in his other teaching series.  In the Hebrews series, for instance, he mentioned the character of Susan Pevensie as an example of an apostate, the one described in the book of Hebrews that had experienced and tasted the good things of God’s word, and then had rejected them — and thus unable to be restored to the faith.  I find that an interesting application of the story about Susan Pevensie — but I tend to disagree with that interpretation, especially since C.S. Lewis himself, the author, had a quite different view regarding the future of Susan Pevensie.  But that’s another topic, maybe for a future blog post.

Does anyone have further thoughts to share, on the topics mentioned here today?  Such as on Michael Kruger’s teachings?  Or the pronunciation of words in Middle Earth?  Or the fate of Susan Pevensie of the Chronicles of Narnia series?

 

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As I continue to study this topic, Christian themes in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, I find more and more story similarities to Christian truth and even to particular events recorded in the Bible.   For example, a recent Sunday sermon was on Acts 21, and in this story, especially verses 11-14, I was reminded of a similar illustration from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Two Towers (see Abe Books offer) — and Faramir’s last words with Frodo.

These verses in Acts 21 tell of when the prophet Agabus visits and makes a “bad news” prophecy, that trouble awaits the apostle Paul in Jerusalem:   the Jews of Jerusalem would bind Paul and hand him over to the Gentiles.  The people, on hearing this, plead with Paul not to go to Jerusalem.  But Paul insists on going to Jerusalem, proclaiming his willingness to be bound and even to die in Jerusalem, and then the people accept this, saying “The Lord’s will be done.”

As harsh as Paul’s experience ended up being, Tolkien’s picture of a similar type of thing appears to be of even worse circumstances —  with great details to engage the reader and to strongly identify with the characters.   This illustration in turn can give us a greater appreciation of the actual trials experienced by the apostle Paul.

In the Middle Earth event, the place is that of known danger, of some great, ancient evil — Cirith Ungol.  Frodo at first does not know its name, and can only describe the general direction and path of this entrance into Mordor that Gollum has described.  Faramir plays a role similar to Agabus and the people who heard Agabus’ prophecy:  first, in the prophecy of extreme danger, and then — like the people who heard Agabus — strongly advising Frodo not to go there.  Yet, like the apostle Paul – and in a way that both Jesus and Paul in Christ’s steps showed us — Frodo keeps to the will of God (as pictured in the Council of Elrond, and the great task that he must accomplish).  After giving the warnings to Frodo, and seeing Frodo’s determined choice and willingness to his work, Faramir — like the people who accompanied the apostle Paul, in similar effect did the same:  Since he would not be persuaded, we said no more except, “The Lord’s will be done.”

It is this feature in Frodo’s character, as well as later events that happen to him, that is in mind when Frodo is commonly referred to as the representation of the Priestly Office of Christ — along with Gandalf the Prophet and Aragorn the King, for the types of Christ as Priest, Prophet, and King in Tolkien’s epic work.  A few excerpts for consideration, from the scene in The Two Towers:

‘Frodo, I think you do very unwisely in this,’ said Faramir. ‘I do not think you should go with this creature. It is wicked.’

‘You would not ask me to break faith with him?’ ‘No,’ said Faramir. ‘But my heart would. For it seems less evil to counsel another man to break troth than to do so oneself, especially if one sees a friend bound unwitting to his own harm. But no – if he will go with you, you must now endure him. But I do not think you are holden to go to Cirith Ungol, of which he has told you less than he knows. That much I perceived clearly in his mind. Do not go to Cirith Ungol!’ … …. Of them we know only old report and the rumour of bygone days. But there is some dark terror that dwells in the passes above Minas Morgul. If Cirith Ungol is named, old men and masters of lore will blanch and fall silent.’

Then a further plea:

It is a place of sleepless malice, full of lidless eyes. Do not go that way!’

Frodo’s response:  ‘But where else will you direct me?’ said Frodo. ‘You cannot yourself, you say, guide me to the mountains, nor over them. But over the mountains I am bound, by solemn undertaking to the Council, to find a way or perish in the seeking. And if I turn back, refusing the road in its bitter end, where then shall I go among Elves or Men?  … ‘Then what would you have me do?’

Faramir: ‘I know not. Only I would not have you go to death or to torment. And I do not think that Mithrandir [another name for Gandalf] would have chosen this way.’

‘Yet since he is gone, I must take such paths as I can find. And there is no time for long searching,’ said Frodo.

‘It is a hard doom and a hopeless errand,’ said Faramir. ‘But at the least, remember my warning: beware of this guide, Sméagol. He has done murder before now. I read it in him.’

Faramir’s final words on this subject:

He sighed. ‘Well, so we meet and part, Frodo son of Drogo. You have no need of soft words: I do not hope to see you again on any other day under this Sun. But you shall go now with my blessing upon you, and upon all your people. … If ever beyond hope you return to the lands of the living and we re-tell our tales, sitting by a wall in the sun, laughing at old grief, you shall tell me then [Faramir’s questions about Gollum, and how Gollum had been involved with possessing the great ring of power]. Until that time, or some other time beyond the vision of the Seeing-stones of Númenor, farewell!’

An important element in both the Bible story in Acts 21, and the similar type of event in Lord of the Rings, is that the main character, the protagonist, is heading into great danger.  For Paul it certainly meant bonds, being whipped and physically abused, and (for all he knew) death.  For Frodo it meant likely death, and indeed we see in the later events, that Frodo (again similar to Gandalf and Aragorn) did experience a type of death  that is like to the real sufferings of Paul as well as Christ.

Yet, when Agabus gave that prophecy to Paul, nothing in the prophecy itself indicated to the recipient (Paul) that he should thus change his course and direction, and avoid the place that would provide such a negative experience.  A common life saying I’ve heard from a local acquaintance goes something like, “if I knew the place where I would die, I would avoid that place like the plague.”  Such is our natural reaction, to avoid pain and suffering.  But the call of God on the life of a Christian, as shown in the 1st century experience of the apostle Paul, and shown for us in the best of tales and epic sagas, takes precedence.  As Elisabeth Elliot observed (see previous post), the great heroes went on their adventures, facing great difficulties, because of the promise of great reward.  Paul the apostle certainly had this heart, knowing the love of God which constrains us, with a willingness to suffer, since (Romans 8:18) our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the future glory.  Frodo, too, realized the importance of carrying out his mission — to destroy the evil works of Sauron the Dark Lord, to bring peace and safety and happy lives to the people of Middle Earth, to free them from their fears and the threats and bondage of Sauron.

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