The writing of any literature poses many risks for the author. Often do authors consider those romanticized risks of self-exposure, public debasement, societal disapproval and the like. More rarely contemplated are the risks an author poses directly to his reader. While literature can be used as a wonderful tool to educate and enlighten, so can it be used to reinforce stereotype and lowered expectation. In modern children’s novels, there is a thick dichotomy between those who will write down to children, and those who will simply write. Somewhere in this opinionated smear of literary ideas lie the stories of J.R.R. Tolkien.
J.R.R. Tolkien strongly disbelieved in the generally accepted concept of children’s literature as an entity removed from all other books. In his essay, “On Fairy Stories,” he, in his usual clandestinely witty manner, acerbically challenges familiar understandings of fantasy stories. Using his considerable philological skills, he pulls apart that which seems common sense to the average reader. “Supernatural is a dangerous and difficult word in any of its senses, looser or stricter. But to fairies it can hardly be applied, unless super is taken merely as a superlative prefix” (Tolkien Reader, 4). By breaking down a word so haphazardly common to show its inappropriateness in this context, Tolkien first attacks his readers’ intellectual bias against fairy stories. After this leveling of intellectual elitism, he goes on to question the topic in a broader sense.
Tolkien poses what to him is very serious question, he asks: “What is the origin of the fairy element”? (Tolkien Reader, 17) His use of “origin” and consequent analysis implies a broader questioning of the philosophical roots of fantasy stories and their readership. Along with physical descriptions of these improbable settings, he notes “it is precisely the colouring, the atmosphere, the unclassifiable individual details of a story, and above all the general purport that informs with life the undissected bones of the plot, that really count” (Tolkien Reader, 1). Tolkien understands that part of the allure, to those inclined to fantasy literature, is of a spiritual quality. Somewhere in this fairy realm, perhaps in the branches of a tree or the elegance of a language, is preserved the heart of fantasy literature.
Tolkien genuinely believed in writing literature for people: not fantasy, nor science fiction, nor in writing for children, nor adults. With neither an audience to focus on or a genre to adhere to, his works had only the boundaries of his fairy realm. Because of this belief in the power of literature itself, Tolkien never pauses to explain complexities or more subtle characteristics. This is especially seen in The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion. There is a subtle nature under the fire and brimstone in these works, suitable for any who love literature. Where many other authors of fantasy resort to blatant, blanket statements of character and intent, Tolkien gently guides his reader to conclusions involving complex conscience and memory.
For those willing to read carefully and question what seems blatant, Tolkien’s characters may surprise. In The Silmarillion, the characterization of Melkor, later Morgoth, is one of constant questioning. In the creation myth of Ainulindalë, the Ainur sing and “in the music there were no flaws” (The Silmarillion, I). Though later Melkor’s melody rings discordantly, the reader is still left with the ambiguity of what would often be considered a purely evil archetype. Bilbo too, suffered readers’ doubt as to his archetypal goodness throughout both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. In The Hobbit, after using the ring to prove to his companions he was a worthy burglar, Bilbo “was so pleased with the praise that he just chuckled inside and said nothing whatever about the ring” (The Hobbit, VI). In this innocent thought, Tolkien hints at the sinister shadow of pride and desire that haunt the ring.
In an unsent letter to an organization asking about writing for children, Tolkien wrote:
“Intelligent children of good taste (of which there seem quite a number) have always, I am glad to say, singled out the points in manner where the address is to children as blemishes…We all need literature that is above our measure – though we may not have sufficient energy for it all the time. But the energy of youth is usually greater.” (Letters, 297)
Tolkien had a respect for both literature and the capacity of the human mind. In his essay “On Fairy Stories,” he showed a clear and interesting view on modern children’s novels. His created sub-reality was so complete, it could easily be considered escapist. As shown considerably in all his works, Tolkien was truly a man dedicated to holistic literature. He wrote for neither children nor adults, but for any who would immerse themselves in the subtle strokes of his pen.
by Cupkate
