Will fantasy fans grab the Ring?

 

The Lord of the Rings is going head to head with Harry Potter for the hearts, minds and wallets of a new generation of fantasy fans. Is the Tolkien classic harmless fantasy, evil sorcery or veiled gospel?

By Craig Bird 

Did you hear the one about the wizard? No, not Harry Potter. This one has elves and dwarves and a magic ring and hairy-toed creatures called hobbits?

            If you haven't, you will. It's coming to a theater near you Dec. 19 -- the first installment of an ambitious and stunning effort to translate J.R.R. Tolkien's epic fantasy, The Lord of the Rings, to the big screen.

The second and third segments of the trilogy will follow at one-year intervals. But all three were filmed during a marathon 438-day shoot in director Peter Jackson's native New Zealand at an estimated cost of $266 million.

            Like Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings promises to reignite the on-going debate among Christians about the worth -- or danger -- of stories based in "imaginal" worlds, such as Tolkien's Middle Earth.

            It also will likely increase interest in other writings of the Inklings, a loosely structured group of Christian writers anchored by the three late Oxford professors Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and Charles Williams and including, in one way or the other, T.S. Eliot, G.K. Chesterton and Dorothy Sayers.

            No doubt the legions of evangelical Christians who are Tolkien fans look forward to the discussion. But what of believers who aren't enthusiasts? 

"Tolkien, like Lewis, wrote a type of fantasy that is rarely seen today," answers Tolkien fan Elmer Perry of Asheville, N.C. "He presents Christian themes in a way that is magical. People can relate to the characters and situations those characters find themselves in. We need more of it."

            Hollywood is doing its part to provide more of it. But the Christian interpretations will likely need to be provided by Christians.

            New Line Pictures reportedly budgeted $50 million to promote the first installment, The Fellowship of the Ring. The Two Towers premiers in 2002 and The Return of the King wraps up the story in 2003. The Fellowship which promises some groundbreaking special effects, was all the rage at this year's Cannes Film Festival, even though only 23 minutes of footage were screened. 

Fans of the Ring
Tolkien starts with a sizeable fan base. Since the first volume's publication in 1954, The Lord of the Rings has sold more than 50 million copies and is now available in 26 languages (Hebrew is next). A special edition of the 500,000-word trilogy, released by Houghton Mifflin this year, has already sold 250,000 copies.

The official Web site reports 250 million viewings of the movie trailers, including 41 million in the first three days it was available last January (www.theonering.net). Many of those fans are baby boomers who discovered Tolkien in the ’60s and ’70s.

The Lord of the Rings is going head to head with Harry Potter for the hearts, minds and wallets of a new generation of fantasy fans, perhaps trying to capture the Millennials the way Star Wars enraptured Gen-Xers.

Ironically, recent fantastical epics owe much to Tolkien, who popularized the genre. "It would not be a stretch to say that Tolkien sired that chunk of our culture devoted to fantasy," writes Gary Hoenig in Modern Maturity. "Without him there might be no Darth Vader, no Slaughterhouse Five and certainly no Harry Potter."

But LotR -- that's Web-speak for Lord of the Rings -- is not a Star Wars wannabe, says veteran movie bad guy Christopher Lee. Lee, who plays the evil Dark Lord, Sauron, in Lord of the Rings, also will appear in the next episode of Star Wars. "They're not remotely alike except that they are major productions," he explains. "Star Wars is more clinical, in a way, whereas Tolkien's story is full of so much love."

            To be sure, the fans who already attach themselves firmly to Tolkien's creation are as strange and eclectic as the author’s characters themselves:

            -- Chart the connection between Lord of the Rings and the lyrics of many of Led Zeppelin's songs (but not Stairway to Heaven).

            -- Ask any aging hippie how the Flower Children of the '60s found a call to drug use and free love in Tolkien’s story.

            --Listen to Stan McDaniel's orchestral composition In Memoriam Tolkien as you read his scholarly linguistic arguments that Tolkien consciously paid homage to the Earth Mother.

-- Learn how, according to Stephan Hoeller of the Los Angeles Gnostic Society, immersing yourself in Tolkien can bring you spiritual salvation, just like the Bible or the Quran or Alice in Wonderland.

            -- Look for the seminal ideas of psychologist Carl Jung played out in the storyline. Or indulge in the Freudian interpretations that some readers see in all those swords and rings.

            -- Sign up for the monthly Tolkien newsletter from American Mensa, the high-IQ society, or enroll in the Tolkien courses at Rice, Rutgers or several other universities.

            -- Of course, the Web is rife with LotR gossip -- reports of Russians camping in the mountains to role-play The Lord of the Rings, of Norwegians reading the book on the radio, and of Dutch fans staging dragon fights. Other Web sites will teach you to speak Elfish, one of several languages Tolkien invented.

Flexible meaning
Perhaps Tolkien would be amused by all the attention. But would he object to the diverse and even bizarre interpretations his work has inspired?

            Scholars agree Tolkien's Christian faith underlies The Lord of the Rings despite no mention of God or worship or prayer or any visible signs of Christianity.

            Tolkien staunchly rejected any definition of his work as an allegory but instead insisted The Lord of the Rings had "applicability." Allegory, which he detested, is built on the author's control over the meaning of the story, he said. "Applicability" gives the reader freedom to find his or her own meaning in the story.

Yet at its heart, The Lord of the Rings -- according to Tolkien himself and his closest associates -- is grounded in an unstinting Christian conviction that, at the end of time, God will finally and forever defeat evil. The soul of Tolkien’s story is anchored in the truth of the incarnation and the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

            So when British priest Euan Marley recently addressed the Oxford Tolkien Society and (speaking of the adversary’s nasty foot soldiers in The Lord of the Rings) asked "Can Orcs be saved?" it was not idle speculation but meaningful theological exploration.

            As Tolkien himself explained, every writer making an imaginary world “wishes in some measure to be a real maker" and to address the ultimate questions of “the Christian story,” such as redemption.  “It has long been my feeling (a joyous feeling) that God redeemed the corrupt-making creatures” -- that is, the Orcs.

Veiled gospel or just good literature?
It is inconceivable to most fans that J.R.R. Tolkien, a devout Catholic who was almost medieval in his practice of frequent confession, could postulate a world without the God he worshiped.

            Of course, a lot of folks -- a whole lot -- dispute the Christian underpinnings of The Lord of the Rings. They criticize Tolkien's ironclad refusal to use explicit Christian symbols and, echoing criticism of Harry Potter, the author's preoccupation with magic.

            Greg Wright, hosting the Tolkien discussion on the Hollywood Jesus Web site, argues that LotR is "neither for or against (evangelical) Christianity." Instead, he insists, it promotes "a modernist Christianity dominated by rationality, empiricism and pragmatism."

            Then there are the legions who simply argue for a literal reading of LotR.

            "At its core, The Lord of the Rings is just an adventure tale about a handful of hobbits who try to find a way to save the world," says Michael Martinez, author of Visualizing Middle Earth. "It's not a Christian apology or proselytizing tract. It's not even an homage to the long-lost Anglo-Saxon literature Tolkien so wanted to bring back. It's just a story."

            But what a story.

            Four hobbits, small, mild and comfort-loving creatures, wind up in the vortex of a cosmic battle between the armies of the Dark Lord and the few remaining strongholds of light. Other races aid and abet the hobbits. They include humans, elves (not the Santa Claus variety but "tall, powerful luminous beings"), dwarves (far more complex than Snow White's friends), and a wizard named Gandalf.

            By happenstance and luck (Tolkien's version of grace) a hobbit named Frodo has come into possession of a ring but has no idea of its power. Indeed it is the Ring, as in:  

            One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

            One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

            In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

            The One Ring is innately evil, with a power that can turn even the best of intentions into greed and destruction. To try to use the ring's power against the Dark Lord would be counterproductive because it would eventually turn whoever uses it into another dark lord.

            The only real hope for victory is to destroy the ring. The only way to do that is to complete a torturous and terrifying journey into the very heart of Mordor to cast the ring into the fires of the Cracks of Doom.

How good is it?
At its publication in 1954, critics compared The Lord of the Rings favorably to Milton's Paradise Lost and the Russian novels of Tolstoy. Others demurred.
  Yale Professor Harold Bloom debunked it as "over-written, tendentious and moralistic in the extreme." 

When Philip Toynbee wishfully declared in 1961, "These books have passed into merciful oblivion," his prediction proved premature. As recently as 1997, The Lord of the Rings finished atop three different reader polls in Britain as the greatest book of the century.

            Tolkien's reputation as a scholarly writer continues to make steady progress in academia. Rice University professor Jane Rice says, "I've taught Shakespeare and I've taught Tolkien, and I don't find any difference."  Rutgers professor W.C. Dowling says Tolkien holds his own against the likes of Nietzsche and T.S. Eliot.

            But the enduring popularity of Tolkien's stories owes not to their literary excellence but to their ring of truthfulness.

            Tolkien insisted Middle Earth is real -- not in any factual sense but because it reflects the truth of the God who created us all. He was not "making up" Middle Earth, he said. He was uncovering a world he believed once really existed in humankind's collective imagination -- a process Tolkien called "reconstruction."

            Others who embrace his "sub-creation" attest to the reality underlying the fantasy.

            English professor Jay Curlin, who teaches a Tolkien course at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkadelphia, Ark., says "the notion of the weakest being used to vanquish the mightiest," which is at the core of LotR, is a dominant theme in the Bible. "Tolkien's having placed such a burden as the quest of the Ring in the tiny hands of a single hobbit is surely a dramatic reminder of that theme."

            When Larry Fink teaches Tolkien at Hardin-Simmons University in Abilene, Texas, he tries to impart to his students "that sense of holy -- the other -- and that our little actions here and now have real consequences for future generations, and that individuals are not so insignificant after all."

            Pat Kilpatrick Merion certainly got that message.

            "I first read the trilogy in the 6th grade when my oldest brother practically ordered me to," explains Merion of Trent, Texas, a social worker, wife and mother of two young sons. "As a preteen I wasn't 'churched' or particularly privy to the mysteries of an understanding of Jesus or God.

            "The books were a great fantasy and escape from a depressed life, and I valued them and even loved them for that. They were, pardon the expression, a salvation for me, lifting me up from darkness and hopelessness to a belief that there was something of higher value. I just didn't quite know what that was until my sophomore year in college when I had a boss who showed me and told me that 'higher value' was Christ."

Tolkien, we might assume, would be pleased.

 

- Craig Bird, a free-lance writer in Asheville, N.C., has read LotR seven times and still has the paperback copy of The Hobbit he acquired as a college freshman. (ccraigabird@cs.com)

Tolkien's other quest

A late-night discussion brought C.S. Lewis into the fellowship of the Christian ring 

Before there were Hobbits there was a friendship.

            In fact, a quarter of a century before readers first encountered Middle Earth and the desperate Hobbit-led struggle of light against darkness, J.R.R. Tolkien was deeply concerned about the battle between good and evil for the soul C.S. Lewis.

            Interestingly, the same spiritual and intellectual understanding that feuled Tolkien's creation of The Lord of the Rings also demolished the last doubts Lewis held about the truth of the Christian gospel.

            Lewis arrived at Oxford a staunch atheist, having abandoned the Anglican faith of his youth. But, over time, his close friendships with Christian members of The Inklings moved him to an agnostic position. Then on Sept. 19, 1931, a Saturday, Lewis invited two of those Christians to his home for dinner: Tolkien and Hugh Dyson.

            Their conversation stretched until 3 a.m. as they explored the role of Jesus Christ. Lewis would not become a Christian until he understood "how the life and death of Someone Else (whoever he was) two thousand years ago could help us here and now--except in so far as his example could help us."

            Tolkien and Dyson insisted that Lewis was demanding more from the Gospel "myth" than he did of other myths, such as the Norse legends in which he was moved by the theme of sacrifice. "But," Lewis protested in a famous retort, "myths are lies, even though lies breathed of silver."

            Not so, Tolkien replied, launching a new line of argument. He pointed out that when Lewis saw an object and referred to it as a "tree" or another object as a "star," he was only inventing names for things as he perceived them. Just as speech is invention about objects and ideas, so myth is invention about truth, Tolkien continued.

            "We have come from God and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God. . . .Our myths may be misguided, but they steer however shakily toward the true harbor."

            In the middle of the night, the light dawned on Lewis: "You mean the story of Christ is simply a true myth, a myth that works on us in the same way as others, but a myth that really happened? In that case I begin to understand."

            At 3 a.m. Tolkien went home but Dyson stayed until dawn. Twelve days later Lewis wrote to a friend that he had "just passed on from believing in God to definitely believing in Christ -- in Christianity."

            In his diary Tolkien rejoiced over his friendship with Lewis, "a man once honest, brave, intellectual -- a scholar, a poet and a philosopher -- and a lover, at least after a long pilgrimage, of our Lord."

Added to FaithandValues.com December 2001.

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