Most people are at least familiar with Tolkien's masterful work, The Lord of the Rings, through at least Peter Jackson's blockbuster film-franchise representations. And while the movies do an incredibly compelling job of representing the fantastical elements of Tolkien's complete world of Middle Earth, and does decent job of condensing an absolute wealth of plot lines, the movies do what movies tend to do -- pictorially represent without getting at the full substance of the ideologies behind authorial intent. As a result, some of Tolkien's greatest reasons for his novel series gets lost in epic battles, heroism, and beautiful scenery (albeit, those are some damn beautiful sceneries).
Tolkien, like his friend Lewis, was a successful Oxford academic, professor, and lover of languages, mythologies, cultures, and -- unlike the early Lewis (though Tolkien later changes this) -- a devout religious follower (specifically, Catholic). Like many of the writers who belonged to the esteemed 'Inklings,' Tolkien sought to create a fictitious fantasy world where he could play out his ideals and give credence to his views while presenting a story or 'mythos' worthy of generations of readers and thinkers. He was incredibly successful, but incredibly tedious -- he spent much of his time writing, rewriting, editing, reediting, rewriting some more... until he perfected his works (and while many of acknowledge perfection as an impossibility, he didn't care and shot for it anyway, which also made publishing his grand mythos a daunting task, since nothing was ever good enough for him to publish). As a result, much of his 'Unfinished Tales' still remain unfinished, or have been manipulated and rewritten, or added to, by his son Christopher and are published as such today, post-Tolkien's death.
Lewis came from a much different path to the Inkling-party, originally an atheist resulting from some childhood tragedies and largely a more negative view of his experience in the Great War to the contrast of Tolkien. He came to Oxford with this presupposed, and didn't take on any religion at all until a night-walk with Tolkien had him accepting the possibility, and eventually the existence, of God (though it was some time later that he embraced the more systematic beliefs of Christianity). As a result of this major epiphany, Lewis made it his goal as well to write a Christian mythos -- which became apparent in most of his writing (including the Science Fiction Trilogy we're experiencing in class) -- which then became the basic mission of his works, The Chronicles of Narnia.
Narnia -- if read chronologically (though there is much debate about the reading order of the stories, since Lewis actually wrote them out of order, and thus many argue the publishing order to be the 'proper' order) -- begins with the book The Magician's Nephew, in which a boy happens upon a transformative experience that takes him to another world, entirely. When he gets to the world, it is essentially blank, black nothingness. While he stands within this nothingness, he hears the sound of song, which is shortly accompanied by light, material substances in the sky (stars), on the ground, and then more recognizable structures like flowers, trees, etc. He eventually sees the source of the sound, emanating from a Lion who seems to be 'causing' the world to come into existence -- himself always in existence -- (in Aristotle's words) the pure actuality, the pure thought, that which causes all other things, the mover that moves all things toward being from the possibility of becoming. Everything, 'his' creation. As the books go on, more information is given about the Lion, whom we come to know in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe as 'Aslan' who in essence goes through a very similar situation of sacrifice akin to that of the crucifixion of Christ -- in which, like the curtain in the temple, the table upon which he was sacrificed splits in half, and he resurrects to greet the children and prove who in fact he is. That is, of course, he is the one true creator, the actuality, the pure being, the one who puts all things into motion. By the end of the series (seven children's books) Lewis recounts and recreates Revelations, or the End Times, and gives his perspective of Heaven, which I won't give here because I really think everyone should experience it for themselves -- it's a really interesting and clever description.
Tolkien had tons of issue with Lewis' representations; his most ardent criticism is that Lewis' stories were too close to the truth of the Bible, too allegorical. He found them childlike and simplistic, and too fantastical (to be fair, it was meant to be a fantasy for children, of course). But the acknowledgment is there -- Lewis aimed to make the Christian mythos accessible to even the simplest minds of existence, so that the Christian story could be translated in a way that most would have to at least contend with and acknowledge the idea of a perfect being which created the world from nothingness of his own accord and will. Tolkien's aim was a bit higher -- no where in The Lord of the Rings, at least, is a creation story -- one must read his Silmarillion, the bible of TLOTR in order to get all of this -- but rather an embedding of Christian virtues and values. In fact, much of what is said in Lewis' Mere Christianity can be found in practical application in Tolkien's mythos. For example, on page 49 in the second book, third chapter entitled "The Shocking Alternative," Lewis discusses Evil as a parasite of Good, not an original thing in and of itself, and aims to prove why evil can and does exist even with a God who is the Utmost Good (aka the classic philosophical "Problem of Evil"):
When we have understood about free will, we shall see how silly it is to ask, as somebody once asked me: 'Why did God make a creature of such rotten stuff that it went wrong?' The better stuff a creature is made of -- the cleverer and stronger and freer it is -- then the better it will be if it goes right, but also the worse it will be if it goes wrong. A cow cannot be very good or very bad; a dog can be both better and worse; a child better and worse still; an ordinary man, still more so; a man of genius, still more so; a superhuman spirit best -- or worst -- of all.
Tolkien uses this exact idea in his conception of the power of the Ring. While the Ring was made by someone of evil intent, its power (and ultimately the Evil someone himself) were not; Sauron, once chief lieutenant of Morgoth (aka Melkor), began as a Maiar (of the same spirit strength as Saruman, also originally good, and Gandalf). In fact, the Dark Lord himself (Morgoth) was a Valar, on par with the highest powers of Good created by the Highest himself (think like Christian ideas of archangels) Illuvitar (look at the etymology of that, so close to "Light"). Of course all of this is logically prior to TLOTR, but deeply embedded and discussed in his Silmarillion. So by the time we get to Middle Earth, the good things created of power - Melkor, Sauron, and soon Saruman -- have corrupted themselves in trying to be more powerful than their initial position. Melkor's story, in fact, strike heavy resemblance to that of Lucifer's: once the beautiful archangel, who descents desiring his own will and power. Melkor, in the creation of the world, is one of the singers who contributes to creation (note again, like Lewis, creation begins in song) -- however, instead of singing his harmony with the other Valar, he strikes off on his own tune against the wishes of Illuvitar, and earns his place in line with the Biblical version of Satan -- cast away from the Good, desiring his own power and realm, which he corrupts from Good intentions into the evilness consistent with Lewis' descriptions of it in Mere Christianity.
This is all presupposed when the ring is created, and when it is found in TLOTR series. If you apply the conception above in Lewis' passage to the ring itself, it becomes clear: The Ring uses good power to corrupt the heart of the Good into fulfilling the evil intentions of the bad. This is why -- at the council of the Ring in Rivendell -- everyone is reluctant to take it that has any sense (especially Gandalf, who is by far the most powerful being present). Freedom, as stated above, allows things to go bad exponentially the more potential for good and power exists in the being. Gandalf, extraordinarily powerful, even claims that while his aim would be to use the Ring for good, would absolutely become so powerful from it and corrupt so easily that it would be the highest danger for him to handle it. Next would be elves, men, etc. until the least powerful of the creatures -- the hobbits who have no extraordinary strength, wit, skill, or magical power -- are in essence forced to carry it as safely as possible. And even then, it's clear that even the least powerful can still have a hand in things -- look at Smeagol/Gollum for example. Clearly corrupted into trickery, lying, stealing, cheating, and even murder, he even plays a part in some good of the Ring, and shows that no matter how small a being is, his part to play is as important and can be as powerful -- and terrifying.
So in summation for today, both fantasies aim at something similar from a different perspective -- they show the origination of the mythos, the creation story in some way, and how Evil comes about not as an original thing, but can only be attached to the world through choice -- NOT through the creation of the Good as a separate and distinct entity. Mere Christianity has a pretty compelling answer as to why it is even a necessary part of existence at all, which will be the basis of discussion for the rest of this week -- check back on Thursday for my thoughts on that one :)
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