An Outlook on Tolkien’s Mythology
𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚗’𝚜 𝙼𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜: 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚂𝚢𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚌, 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍
We are all familiar with the works of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (this statement might come across as somewhat assertive), especially with his masterpiece ‘The Lord of the Rings’. However, this six-book novel represents nothing more than an isolated episode within a highly intricate mythological system. The author himself aimed to create a series of interconnected legends — a kind of mythology particularly specific to England.
It is these following three components I am going to delve into in this article, namely:
1) The merging of the real and the ideal — the religious dichotomy of Good/Evil, the nuanced perception of reality;
2) Mythological symbolism — the imagery of a shared consciousness deriving from mythologies;
3) Syncretism — the synthesis of ideas coming from different backgrounds, the blending of diverse mythological elements into a unified whole.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕
The embodiment of this idea can be found in the work ‘The Silmarillion’ — being something innate, sincere. It is a cycle of legends that begins with the cosmogonic myth of the ‘Music of the Ainur’ and extends to distinct tales about the heroes of the world, known as Arda. This world is so multifaceted that it “draws in” very diverse characters from different backgrounds. Yet, Professor Tolkien’s works are not akin to philosophical allegories or romanticized stories of two lovers: they are, first and foremost, mythology in its purest form, encompassing both the first, the second, and much more.
Tolkien’s heroes never impose their actions, they doubt, make occasional mistakes, even the wisest of them. Even Gandalf makes mistakes: his initial misjudgment about the true nature of Frodo’s ring, thinking it was a lesser Ring, contributes to the unfolding events. However, there is no situation where the boundaries between Good and Evil would appear blurred, where these concepts would create the possibility of compromise. This is one of the religious virtues of Tolkien’s myth.
Like any myth, it operates with emotions; it “experiences”.
𝙼𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖
Reading stories about gods and heroes, we don’t doubt that everything they describe is the truth; it is perceived as a given only because it happened in time immemorial. If we turn our gaze to the past, we will see that, somewhere in the very distant past, real events and myths appear to be on the same plane; both are nothing more than “stories” and “fairytales” for us.
The conviction that the author has in the narrative has to exist first before it arises in the reader. Hence it creates this subconscious feeling of trust towards the works of the author.
This is exactly why Tolkien speaks about his stories as if they were rediscovered, not invented.
𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚖
The origin of imagery from a word was evident to him. Initially, he created names and languages, and then the stories were formed. The starting point for the creation of his mythological system was the word from Cynewulf’s poem “Christ I” — “earendel.” In the Old English dictionary, this word is translated as “morning star” and in Tolkien’s work, it became the character Eärendil, one of the central figures in his mythology. Peoples of Middle-earth, such as Elves, Dwarves, Ents, and even Orcs, owe their origins to Old English and Norse texts, though Professor Tolkien provides a new interpretation of the preexisting words.
Thus, Elves are no longer tiny winged creatures dwelling in flowers — they are a proud race of the Firstborn, warriors and sages. Dwarves are the descendants of the Naugrim of Ancient Days, in whose hearts the ancient flame of Aulë the Smith still burns… and whose hands have not forgotten the craft of stone workmanship, that no one else has managed to surpass.
Orcs take on their final form primarily in Tolkien’s works, occurring as ugly and filthy, with a taste for human flesh, creatures, most of whom are small and avoid daylight.
𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚝𝚑
Attempts to draw analogies between the history of Middle-earth and real history can be most clearly traced in the sketches for the story about Ælfwine Haroldsson, which frames ‘The Book of Lost Tales’.
The composition of the book is the following: a sailor, later named Eriol by the elves, sails to the unknown land of Tol Ereseea, the Lonely Isle, where he listens to a series of consecutive tales from its inhabitants, which form Tolkien’s grand mythical cycle, — the history of the Eldar people composes right before his eyes.
The story of Eriol’s voyage in many respects repeats the traditional story of a seafarer reaching (or trying to reach) the Fortunate Isles in Anglo-Saxon poetry (also appearing in numerous mythologies), as in the saga of the voyage of Bran, son of Thebals. Descriptions of these islands in the mentioned saga are very similar to the images of the immortal western lands in Tolkien’s mythology.
Consequently, in ‘The Book of Lost Tales’ one observes a borrowing from the historical context of names and events. But Tolkien himself refused such attempts, probably believing that adapting his myth to an already existing reality would only destroy the credibility, sincerity of the myth. History connects with the legend not by adapting the legend to the story, but on the contrary, by abstracting from it.
And only when Tolkien left the myth as it is, self-contained, requiring neither historical validation nor dating, nor an author — that’s when we got ‘The Silmarillion’, a myth in its purest form, a myth that is a reality for those who believe in it, just as the author, through its conviction and perfection. It became a part of history, never ceasing to remain a myth.
