Michelle Whitehurst
Prof. Card
322/05
Eng. 375-Inklings
Happy Endings and
Religious Hope:
The Lord of the Rings
as an Epic Fairy Tale
By John J. Davenport
Tolkien conceived his
masterpiece as an epic fairy tale with a kind of religious significance. The author
of the article, John J. Davenport, argued that in particular, Tolkien wanted
his story to have a special form of ‘happy ending’; one that suggests or echoed
the Western religious promise that our struggles to overcome evil are not
meaningless, that there will be a final justice and healing to this world.
Many of the plot lines,
characters, and symbols are closely related to the Northern European mythology,
such as the Norse Eddas, the Icelandic sagas Kalevala, and the Old English
Story Beowulf, on which Tolkien was a leading expert in his time. Tolkien, in
a famous lecture on Beowulf, highlighted the differences between the Christian
vision of salvation in an afterlife and the Norse vision of honor won in the
heroic struggle to endure against chaos, despite an inevitable death: “northern
mythology takes a darker view. Its characteristic struggle between man and
monster must end ultimately, within Time, in man’s defeat.”
This is a theme that
runs throughout Tolkien’s work, with the decaying decline of Middle-earth seen
in the withdrawing glory of the Elves, the glory of Gondor is in the past, the
entwives are lost, etc.. Theoden, after the triumph of Helm’s Deep says, For
however the fortune of war shall go, may it not so end that much that was fair
and wonderful shall pass for ever out of Middle-earth?” “It may,” said
Gandalf. “The evil of Sauron cannot wholly be cured, nor made as if it had not
been. But to such days we are doomed.” (TT, pp. 168-169)
Davenport goes on to
argue that even though Tolkien’s world shares much in common with the Northern
mythology, there is an element of Christianity there too. Davenport points out
that in the Silmarillion there is a creation story , where the supreme God,
Iluvatar, in a cosmic symphony of divine music creates the world, Ea, and then
with “one chord, deeper than the Abyss, higher than the Firmament, piercing as
the light of the eye of Iluvatar, the Music ceased.” (S, p. 17) “Here, more
clearly than anywhere else in his works, Tolkien gives his world the promise of
an ultimate redemption,” Davenport argues. I disagree with this assumption.
All Davenport has to presuppose there is an “ultimate redemption” is the fact
that there is a creation myth in the Silmarillion. Many things have a creation
myth, but that doesn’t mean they necessarily have a Second Coming or Ultimate
Redemption waiting for them in the end. Tolkien himself says, “The odd fact
that there are no churches, temples or religious rites and ceremonies, is
simply part of the historical climate depicted… The ‘Third Age’ was not a
Christian world.” (L, p. 220) Davenport disputes this saying that if the only
works of literature that count as religious literature are those that examine
the nature of God, defend belief in God, or focuses on practices of worship,
then the Lord of the Rings is not a religious work. Instead though, if the
essence of religious faith lies in embracing the promise of a salvation
possible only by divine miracle—then Tolkien’s work comes closer to his
essentially religious attitude than many superficially ‘religious’ works. The
problem again is that Davenport’s only religious idea of salvation lies in the
fact that he believes there is an ultimate redemption, and he only believes
this because the Silmarillion has a creation myth.
Tolkien himself reveals
his true purpose in an essay titled “On Fairy-stories” where he argues that in
their highest form, fairy tales are serious literary art in which nature
appears as a ‘Perilous Realm’, or the world of ‘Faerie’. Genuine fairy-stories
of this caliber include Perseus and the Gorgon, or the tale of Sir
Gawain and the Green Knight. Tolkien points out the central focus of magic
in such stories is not to perform tricks or spells, but to satisfy “certain
primordial human desires”; something truly higher is occasionally glimpsed in
mythology. This magic responds to the innate human desire for what Tolkien
called Recovery, Escape, and Consolation. Tolkien defined Recovery and Escape
as renewed appreciation of life and the value of nature, and as an escape from
the alienating delusions of an artificial mechanized and increasingly ugly
consumerist society. Consolation was an answer to the question whether our
efforts, hardships, and suffering have any point, any final significance. The
kind of happy ending that marks genuine fairy stories is those in which there
is a miraculous reprieve in the midst of impending disaster, Tolkien calling
this type of consolation a “eucatastrophe,” or joyous salvation within apparent
catastrophe.
Tolkien uses the word
eucatastrophe because, he says, we don’t have a word expressing the opposite of
tragedy. Tolkien conceives tragedy to be the true form and highest function of
drama, and the eucatastrophe to be the highest function of fairy-tale.
The
consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly,
of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous ‘turn’ (for there is no true end to
any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can
produce supremely well, is not essentially ‘escapist’ or ‘fugitive’. In its
fairy-tale—or other world—setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace, never
to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe,
of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of
deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will), universal
final defeat, and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of
Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.
The joy that Tolkien
describes here requires a surprise, a deliverance that no human effort could
have made possible. Tolkien himself points out that in this sense, “The
Gospels contain a fairy-story, or a story of a larger kind which embraces all
the essence of fairy-stories.” The resurrection appears as the eucatastrophe of
the Gospel
Story, because of its ultimate
reprieve when all appears to be lost.
Understanding Tolkien’s
conception of fairy tales and their central function sheds much light on The
Lord of the Rings. Tolkien’s primary goal in The Lord of the Rings was to
create a fantasy for our time with the same eucatastrophic power that Sir
Gawain and the Green Knight had for fifteenth-century Britons, or Christ’s
resurrection. I believe, the moment that Gollum comes unexpectedly and steals
the ring from Frodo, then falling into the Cracks of Doom is the crucial moment
of grace, the ‘unlooked for reprieve’ and though Tolkien’s story might not have
the power of Christ resurrection behind it, the moment Gollum falls come
close. Therefore, while it is not a religious piece of work, I believe The
Lord of the Rings is a great epic fairy tale.