Tolkien first defines “Faerie” as a place, and a type of story. According to him, fairies are not required, but a belief in the other world typifies “Faerie.” This belief is not a mock-reality, of what he calls our “Primary Reality,” but a secondary reality, just as real. This is not a place to make-believe, but to truly believe, and here you find the reason children are more apt to like these stories. Children trust, and believe, without the complication of big words and deeper meanings to hide simple truth. However, Tolkien argues these stories are for adults too. This secondary world brings the person out of time here in this reality and into another, perhaps into a timeless reality (which we all may have experienced when we’ve had to go about our business after an hour of great fiction). He cites many stories, of which King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table resonate in my memory and familiarity.
He argues we are all “sub-creators,” created in the image of a Maker. Herein lies an argument for the existence of God, of which I’m not familiar in philosophical and apologetic circles, since I haven’t a clue of apologetics and philosophy. Imagine the implications of this though. Do you write, create people and worlds? What if they really exist? Are they real enough, or are they flat personalities in their world? Does their world have three dimensions? Four? Two? One? Are you taking care of your creation?
Tolkien offers criticism of many stories and authors, including Chesterton and Shakespeare. Drama, he says, diametrically opposes Fantasy. He writes, “…tragedy is the true form of drama,” but refers to Fantasy as “Eucatastrophe,” which somehow means a happy ending always comes about. He also argues against the critics who call Fantasy an “escapist” practice. He says many other ways exist of escape that seem much more ridiculous, such as the escape into scientific endeavors leading to the creation of weapons of war, leading to destruction.
Finally, in the last few pages, he comes to the crux of his argument, the final point, which centers on his Christian faith. He says all stories of fantasy and of Fairy (In German referred to as “Elf”) represent a deeper story, a real story of the Christ and his incarnation and death on the cross. He ends in beautiful words, which I took to mean Fantasy reveals the bliss and wonder of eternity in heaven as the understanding of the human race foreshadows what humanity will be like in heaven with resurrected bodies: “All tales may come true; and yet, at the last, redeemed, they may be as like and as unlike the forms that we give them as Man, finally redeemed, will be like and unlike the fallen that we know.”
Tolkien’s essay helps me understand why The Lord of The Rings remains my favorite of all time. I share a spiritual world-view with Tolkien, and his trilogy strengthens me and gives me hope. I see warnings against evil choices in the person of Smeagol, who became corrupted and pitiful Gollum. I see greatness in smallness, a promise of honor in humility and denying personal dignity in Frodo, a tiny Hobbit, who carries the fate of the world around his neck. I see the true hero in the end, who remained invisible with Frodo and Sam both throughout their journey. I see Providence in the destruction of the ring (one of the best climaxes, if not the best climax ever!). I see the final victory of all good over all evil. Whenever I despair, I think of the Hobbits, and Tolkien’s world, and find comfort in, as Tolkien puts it, “the underlying reality.”
Although I’d find great pleasure in studying Tolkien, and learning of him that I may learn to be a better rookie writer, he tells (warns rather) writers to learn more from stories themselves than the analysis of the stories. This could also be phrased as, “you learn better by doing than talking,” or “experiencing rather than reading about it.”
I love the way Tolkien writes; how exquisite the language he uses. I appreciate his heart, his mind, and his faith. I can’t wait to meet him in the “secondary world” of Middle Earth when it becomes “Primary.”
I plan to read this essay again, many times over.