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Posts Tagged With: J.R.R. Tolkien
Writers often draw us into the worlds and characters that burst from their imaginations. These “made-up” worlds are reason for some to shun this or that genre because they are imaginary. The truth, though, is that authors aren’t writing imaginary stories. Alister McGrath, in his biography of C.S. Lewis, explains:
Narnia is imaginative, not an imaginary, world. Lewis was quite clear that a distinction had to be drawn between those ideas. The “imaginary” is something that has been falsely imagined, having no counterpart in reality. Lewis regards such an invented reality as opening the way to delusion. The “imaginative” is something produced by the human mind as it tries to respond to something greater than itself…to “communicate more Reality to us.”
Lewis would use his imaginative world to explore serious themes like “origins of evil, nature of faith, and the human desire for God” — not unlike most writers have grand ideas of deep thoughts woven through their narrative.
Quite often their starting point to accomplish this is surprisingly very simple. Narnia started with “an image of a faun carrying an umbrella and parcels through a snowy wood.” Tolkien scrawled on a paper, “In a hole in he ground there lived a hobbit,” after the idea popped in his head and he “did not know why” it had. From these humble origins, grand tales came to life.
What lives in your imagination, ready to inspire, entertain and challenge?
Since 1977, Terry Brooks has been writing his Shannara fantasy series. Once the first trilogy was complete, he gave up his day job as a lawyer and never looked back. In spite of his success, he has often been asked why he writes fantasy. Not so much now, with fantasy’s mainstream success, but some still equate fantasy with escapism.
True, any book, television show, hobby has that element — and there’s nothing wrong with that, so long as most people know how not let one overcome the other. Good fiction, whether or not it is fantasy, ultimately rests on how much it draws on real life. From the outside, that may be hard to grasp when talking about stories with fantastic creatures. Yet we have detailed here in past posts that it was the depth and themes of fictional worlds of Middle Earth and Narnia that was in large measure the reason for their enduring success. Continue reading
The influence of 19th Century novelist George MacDonald can still be seen in the fantasy genre today. C.S. Lewis referred to MacDonald as his “master.” Tolkien called his fairy tales “stories of power and beauty.” MacDonald encouraged his friend C. L. Dodgson to publish his children stories — later known to the world as Alice in Wonderland under the pen name Lewis Carroll. MacDonald unintentionally became the father of modern fantasy.
Biographer Michael R. Phillips writes he was “deeply challenged with the magnitude and complexity” of telling MacDonald’s life:
…[MacDonald had a] tremendous variety of…literary genres — he was [also] a theologian, a spiritual mystic, a poet, a novelist, a preacher, a scientist, an essayist, a highly successful lecturer, a teacher, an actor, an editor and a fantasy writer — his ideas defy categorization and pigeon-hole analysis.
That MacDonald was a writer can be seen in his comments on potential biographies on himself. He maintained “that no biography should be written, stating that his books contained all he had to say to the world…” Phillips continues:
But it is my hope to convey George MacDonald’s thoughts and emotions…[which are] most strongly reflected through his literary works…his fictional characters were a means of communicating his own ideas and view of the world…The words he wrote…illuminate what he thought about, how he approached his quandaries, what kinds of questions he asked, and what answers he found…His books are the fullest means we have to get under the surface of his thought-skin to discover what really made him tick.
Therein lies a truth for all writers. Their fiction is art, entertainment and conveyor of ideas and messages. Ultimately, though, no matter how they try not to (if they try not to), parts of their story is also in the tales they tell.
I have written often here that everyone has a story to tell. That doesn’t just mean in the sense of sci-fi, fantasy, thriller or romance. It means the stories that reveal who you are, regardless of what background you tell it against.
Famed J.R.R. Tolkien biographer, Professor Thomas A. Shippey, in his course Heroes and Legends, writes on the “universal human art form” of storytelling:
…Over the millennia of human history, millions of tales, novels, romances and epics have been written, published, and many more must have been told in the far longer millennia of prehistory. The vast majority vanished without a trace once their immediate purpose had been served – forgotten, discarded, out of print.
A small number survive and become classics. Of that small number, an even smaller number does more than survive: They inspire imitations, sequels, remakes and responses. It is the heroes and heroines – and sometimes the villains – of these super-survivors who have created and continue to create our imaginative world. “Don’t the great tales never end?” asks the hobbit Sam Gamgee…Sam has good reason to see that the answer is: No, they don’t.
…Most of all, the “great tales” offer an insight into the human heart, in all its variety and complexity, that nothing else can provide.
There’s been much debate among Christian writers on what writing “Christian Fiction” means. The artificial rules of Corporate Christian Publishing would eliminate many of the well-known writers who were Christians. These would include J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, as Donovan M. Neal writes. Many Christian writers – like writers of all beliefs – just want to write their story. A story informed by their beliefs (again, like all writers), but where their beliefs come through organically – not forced or contrived by some sort of formula. I’ve read books from all sorts of authors who want to lecture or preach to their readers. Really, it’s the difference between good and bad writing.
That’s not to say there isn’t anything good on the Christian Fiction shelf. There’s good and bad in all fiction markets and genres. Part of the debate also concerns the pros and cons of having your fiction labeled by your religion. If you are writing for a specific audience, then I suppose it’s fine, though religion is still bit of an unique way to classify fiction. Yes, there are other examples of targeting this or that demographic.
In the end, regardless of a writer’s beliefs, they shouldn’t spend their time figuring out how to be successful in getting certain people to read their books. They should write their story.
Readers should demand it.
I wonder how much authors worry about how readers misunderstanding what their book is about. Its meanings, themes and intentions. Some authors might overcompensate by entering the story and explaining too much. This “author intrusion” often makes a character sound out of character or exposition sound like a lecture. Authors should realize not every reader is going to get, or like, everything you have written and that’s okay. A mature reader isn’t going throw down your book if he or she doesn’t agree with every sentence you write. They might do so if your book isn’t entertaining or is unreadable.
I mentioned in an earlier post on how modern readers like to reinterpret older books (in that case Dracula) through modern eyes. When an author is still living, or wrote about their books, it’s always best to default to their explanations. After all, they wrote the book. J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings is brimming with themes and meaning, but it was no allegory. The author wrote:
There is no ‘symbolism’ or conscious allegory in my story…To ask if the Orcs ‘are’ communists is to me as sensible as asking if Communists are Orcs.
Devin Brown continues by asking, “Don’t they share a number of similarities? [along with Sauron/Hitler, etc.] Of course they do.” But he adds what Tolkien explained, “I think many confuse ‘applicability’ with ‘allegory.'”
Of course, “everyone knows” C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was an allegory. Everyone forgot to tell C.S. Lewis. He said he never intended to write an allegory, the story unfolded as it did. He also wrote:
As we know, almost anything can be read into any book if you are determined enough…[the author] will find reviewers, both favorable and hostile, reading into his stories all manner of allegories which he never intended. (Some of the allegories thus imposed on my own books have been so ingenious and interesting that I often wish I has thought of them myself.)
So focus on writing your story. Understand not everyone will like it or get all the wonderful things you are trying to get across. Nor should you attempt to appease everyone or your story will most likely end up not being very interesting. Make your tale organic and entertaining. Use the tools you have to improve your craft.
Because ultimately the mythos you create is yours and someone out there wants to enter it.
“Adventures? Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things!” said Bilbo to Gandalf. If he only knew. The scenes that follow — the arrival of the dwarves who take over his home — did not seem to be a favorite in the films, but was an essential part of the book. In it we see much of ourselves.
Bilbo was set in his ways, in his little world. Didn’t want to be bothered, nor wanted any deviations from the norm. So imagine the disruption of this rowdy band taking up residence, uninvited. Think about about how people handle disruptions in their life. Poorly. Even good, life-changing ones. We don’t see what goes on around us. Neighbors in need. Corrupt governments. If the snack bag is full, and the batteries are good in the remote, we’re a-okay. Devin Brown writes in Hobbit Lessons, “We might also think of someone who can’t bear to be away from their laptop for more than a few minutes. Or someone for whom being out of cell phone range counts as a real hardship.” Sad.
We see Bilbo’s change in his dwarf encounter. Brown writes that the hobbit senses “he is missing something” and decides to go on a “quest to live more fully” and ultimately becomes a critical part in the history of his world.
Are you going to challenge your status quo? How are you going to handle the next disruption?
Perhaps we all need a quest. An adventure.
Part three of The Hobbit trilogy has come and, in all likelihood, is the last of Middle-Earth’s time on the big screen. Fans never thought they would have to wait nine years from the original trilogy to revisit this world that became a bit of a December tradition. And so that now ends, but Middle-Earth will never leave us.
It has been over seventy-five years since The Hobbit was first published. How many books endure that long? Few. Fewer still inspire films that don’t quickly fade from history. Fans argued which film trilogy was better. Such arguments usually ignored the fact that you couldn’t expect to compare the two. The books themselves were quite different, Tolkien never changing the style of his first to match the latter volumes. He didn’t feel the need to change it, other than a few details. So the filmmakers had to find a careful balance: Make The Hobbit more in line with the look and feel of the first films without losing its unique, and lighter, traits.
Keeping that in mind, the films largely succeeded. By the end of the latest, you are shown a Middle-Earth that is changing and the future holds darkness. Not the finality of The Return of the King, because it isn’t the end. It is a prologue to what is to come (or what has already passed, depending how you look at it).
Why has Middle-Earth captured readers (and now film lovers) for so long? Why has it inspired so much in the fantasy and other genres?
Because behind all the creatures, the fantastic battles, wizards and elves, it’s about people. People who stand against evil, who never abandon each other even in the darkest times, and risk it all in the process.
It’s the Story about who we all want to be. What we were meant to be.