The Song of Middle-earth: J. R. R. Tolkien’s Themes, Symbols and Myths

The use of myth over the last five centuries by European writers has taken on an aspect that was never contemplated by those who developed the proto-myths. Most of the names of the heathen gods are nothing but poetical or ritualistic names which have been allowed to assume a divine personality to an extent never intended by the original inventors. Of course, myth today operates on a number of different levels. Children especially appreciate myth which to them is a make-believe reality. The questions, ‘Tell me about yourself when you were little?’ or ‘Is that what it was like in the old days?’ demand a mythical response because the information and concepts contained in the answer are beyond the child’s concept of reality. Similarly, a child’s view of a parent is that of an all-wise, all-knowing person, capable of almost anything. Growing up and adolescence in particular is that time when the myth of the parent undergoes a gradual destruction, often to the resentment of the child.

Yet myth, dealing as it does with archetypes, still functions on different levels in society today. Advertising especially uses archetypes and attempts to create a situation which, if duplicated by the purchase, wearing, eating or whatever of a certain item, will have consequences beyond our normal existence or expectations. Similarly, archetypal animals have been used to portray qualities or characteristics of nations and Sir John Tenniel in Punch last century was particularly skilful in such archetypal creation. Many of the characters of modern television soap opera dramas and pot-boiler novels are archetypal. The doctor of the soap opera is the modern magician, all-wise, all-knowing, possessed of the power of healing – a twentieth-century Merlin. The aggressive stick-at-nothing businessmen who sweep all before them embody the image of the all-powerful hero Herakles and his successors in the American Dream, Daniel Boone, Paul Bunyan and others. Furthermore, we develop our own mystical mythic attitudes. Science can solve anything, yet the Saviour Science has within it the seeds of its own downfall in the form of the archetypal Mad Scientist whose ancestor is the tragic Victor Frankenstein. For modern audiences, Doctor Strangelove is an instantly recognisable figure.1

Mythic ritual still continues in the religious sense, and is present, alive and well in the form of the Eucharist, the act of recreation. But beyond this, myth provides a richness within the human experience that goes beyond the perpetuation of archetypes or rituals. Myth has had a profound influence in and on literature and the myth in literature is especially important in any discussion of the works of Tolkien.

The first point that must be made is that despite the proliferation of mythologies, tales and names of deities, the types, themes and subject matter of myths are basically the same. The common themes of myth or mythologies are the study of the comparative mythologist who examines the basis of myth, layer by layer, and in doing so finds patterns that express the nature of a society as a whole. An examination of and search for the themes of myth inevitably becomes a search for that which is essential to the human condition and what the symbols embodied in those themes represent. Claude Levi-Strauss has observed that throughout the world there is a great similarity in mythic themes. In such a study one is inevitably drawn to the archetypes of myth. By using the word ‘archetype’ I am not referring to the Jungian psycho-analytical term, but rather in its common sense – an original or model symbol which constantly recurs. Mythologies carry such models of absolute values or paradigms of human activity. The presence of archetypes assures Man that what he is about to do has already been done, and therefore can be done. The heroes – Jason, Herakles, Perseus, Odysseus, Sigurd, Beowulf, Gawain – all ventured beyond the seas into the wastes or vast mountains, to the Perilous Realm in a fabulous time. All that Man can do is follow their example. Their grandiose feats, which took place in a far-distant and glorious past, can be imitated if only to a degree, and the models of behaviour that are revealed in the heroes give meaning to our present endeavours.

The most common theme in mythology is that of The Creation – the cosmogonic origin myth. This myth sets the pattern for everything else in most traditions, and, at the time of origin, irreconcilable opposites arise. The myth explains beginnings from the existing situation. No one can explain in mythological terms how chaos (be it the vast and dark nature of the Greek myths, or the ‘Spirit of God’ moving upon the face of the waters in Genesis) began, or from whence it originated. Always is presupposed the existence of something before. Creation myths explain the creation of the circumstances leading up to a state of affairs from a particular point. In all cases the cosmos is a divine work and the archetype of every creative situation. In many mythologies it is common for a supreme god to create and leave the governing, ordering or completion of his creation to others. In Tierra del Fuego, although there is an omnipotent god or creative force, his creation is completed by the mythical ancestors. In the Slave Coast cosmogonic myth the sky-god Olorum leaves the completion of his creation to Obatala, a subsidiary deity.

Eliade considers that the myths of primitive societies are always concerned with creation. Myths, he says, always relate how something came into existence, or how a pattern of behaviour, an institution or a manner of working was established. By knowing the myth, one knows the origin of things and can control and manipulate them at will. One lives the myth and is grasped by a sacred exalting power of events recollected and re-enacted. Thus, within the context of Eliade’s discussion, the creation myth is a blueprint for everything that follows and is essential for the survival of society. The myth contains vital and essential lore and knowledge.

At the other end of the time-scale is the eschatological myth – the myth of the ending. Of the non-Christian mythologies, the most dramatic eschatological myth, and the most bleak, is the Ragnarok of the Norse myths – or Gotterdamerung as it was called by Wagner. Ragnarok was presaged. All knew that it would come, and certain signs and events evidenced its advent. The year-long winter named Fimbulwinter, which was preceded by a hideous war, was one of the signs. Following Fimbulwinter are mighty earthquakes during which the wolf Fenrir, offspring of Loki the Trickster, breaks loose. A ship bearing the Undead from Hell and captained by Loki journeys to Asgard, the home of the gods. The forces of chaos in the form of fire and frost giants together with the World Serpent and Loki’s minions descend upon Asgard. Ragnarok is announced to the Aesir and the heroes of Valhalla by the single crow of a cockerel. A mighty battle follows in which the forces of the Aesir and their enemies consume one another totally. All that remains is Yggdrasil, the World Ash. After Ragnarok, it is said, Midgard will rise again, more beautiful than before. The land, cleansed of distrust and evil, will be a fit place for the habitation of men and gods together. The ancestors of the second race of mankind emerge from the trunk of Yggdrasil. In a sense Ragnarok contains a germ of hope in that there will be a new and better world rising from the ashes of the old. Yet it places present existence within a context of doom and without hope. There will be no reward at Ragnarok – death, doom and destruction will come to all.

The Christian Apocalypse contained in Revelation offers more hope. The final battle is preceded by the advent of Anti-Christ which, as in the Norse myth, is the resurgence of chaos. The Anti-Christ or false Messiah is often portrayed as a dragon or a demon. His coming results in the total overthrow of social, moral and religious values. After the great battle near Jerusalem, Satan is thrown down and God comes among Men in the New Jerusalem. The overthrow of Evil is a characteristic of the Persian apocalyptic myth. After a world age of three thousand years Ormazd, also known as Ahurimazda, conquers Ahriman or The Lie.

A comparison of the Christian and Norse myths reveals presages; the coming of chaos, the rule of Evil followed by its ultimate overthrow. The Christian Apocalypse gives hope for those who believe in Christ for they shall rise again to be judged. The Earth will be renewed, but there will not be the all-engulfing disaster. The Christian end, terrifying as it may be, has overlays of symbolic language and a message of Hope. Common to both myths is the concept of rebirth and renewal. Even the gloom of Ragnarok cannot destroy the phoenix of the human spirit and its hope for better things.

Within the span of aeons between Creation and Apocalypse are many common themes that predate historical time. There is, for example, a common belief in a Golden Age preceding our present brutishness. In some mythologies such a period implies blessedness or wisdom. Golden Age men in the Greek myths were subjects of Cronos, father of Zeus. They lived without care or labour, eating acorns, wild fruit and honey, never ageing, laughing and dancing. Death to them was no more terrible than sleep. The Greeks tell of a silver race, divinely created, who ate bread, were non-violent and were destroyed by Zeus. Following them were the two races of bronze, one warlike and cruel who ate flesh and bread and were destroyed by a Black Death; the other noble and generous, the progeny of gods and mortals. Of this second race are the heroes of Thebes, the Argonauts and the Trojan War who dwell in Elysium. The last race are the men of iron, those of the present. Unworthy descendants of the second race of bronze men, we are cruel, unjust, immoral and treacherous. Graves explains the symbolism of metals in terms of cultist worship. Silver is the metal of the moon Goddess and the myth of the men of silver records the rituals of a matriarchal society. The first bronze men were the Hellenic invaders; the second bronze men were the Myceneans. The men of iron were the Dorians who bore iron weapons. The symbolism of metals in the degeneration of Man is also recorded by Daniel who refers to the kingdoms of gold, silver, bronze, iron and clay which precede the Everlasting Kingdom.

In many myths, the Golden Age and the Apocalyptic Renewal are linked. There is a cyclical pattern with a fresh beginning. The Paradise which was lost will, in the fullness of time, come again in a second or future perfection. Myths of origin too are linked to the end of the old and the beginning of the new. For Christ to die he must be born. While he is with us in the flesh, he symbolises the Golden Age. He must die that he may be reborn, return to the Father and come again for the Second Golden Age which follows the Apocalypse. Christ microcosmically embodies so many of the symbolic mythological themes that the attraction of Christianity, dealing as it does with such a powerful archetype, is not hard to understand.

The end of the First Golden Age occurs with a fall from Grace where man loses the perfection which he once enjoyed and descends to the here-and-now realities of existence – life, death, pain, hunger, envy, greed, lust, jealousy and the thousand and one trials of life. Symbolically, the tribulations of life as we know them are released or imposed by the deity following upon a departure from an established mode of conduct. In Greek mythology Pandora, the first woman, was sent by Zeus as a punishment to Prometheus and Epimetheus for stealing fire, and to man for receiving it, although the myth reveals that another punishment was also imposed upon Prometheus. Pandora was said to be endowed by the gods with beauty, persuasion and music. Epimetheus had within his house a box which Pandora, being curious, opened. From the box poured forth all the trials and tribulations of men. Only Hope remained. Another version of the tale is that Pandora had within her marriage chest all the blessings of the gods. These she allowed to escape with the exception of Hope.

Curiously enough, in the Judaeo-Christian mythology it is a woman who initiates the Fall from Grace and places before her man the choice of Good and Evil, although to be fair Evil itself did not emanate from the woman. The expulsion from Eden is indeed the Fall of Man. Yet this is not enough for he falls even further as a result of the first murder by Cain. This demonstrates the depth of the Fall and establishes murder, and especially family murder as the most heinous of crimes.

A further common theme in mythologies is that of the Flood or some similar form of natural catastrophe such as earthquake or conflagration. In the Judaeo-Christian myth the Flood and the reasons for it are still related to the Fall and the way in which Man behaves to his fellows and to God. Similarly, a catastrophe overtakes Sodom and Gomorrah because of sinful ways. Similar catastrophes are set out in the Sumerian epic of Gilgamesh and in the account of Atlantis by Plato, although no rationale of divine wrath is given for the demise of the Atlantean civilisation. Apart from warfare and kin-strife, nothing else seems to have caused Zeus to drown the world, leaving only Deucalion and his wife as survivors. But the catastrophe, although it may seem to be the end of the world to the participants, is not a final end. It is the end of one stage of the development of the human race and the beginning of another. The flood or catastrophe opens the way to a recreation of the world and a regeneration of humanity.

The theme of the migration of peoples explains the diversity of the human race, yet presupposes not parallel developments but in fact one cradle within which mankind was nourished. This goes back, of course, to the concept of the Golden Age and the time when Man existed in close proximity to Heaven and communed with the gods directly or by way of some link with the home of the gods, such as a tree or a vine. The location of the tree is viewed as the centre of the world (as was the case with Yggdrasil the World Ash) and from this central point the diaspora took place. The wanderings of Abraham and the peoples of Babel are examples, although it is significant that in the Babel tale man wishes to build a tower to re-establish a face to face communication with God.

The themes that have been discussed so far are the more cosmogonic and generalised themes of mythology. From this point on the themes are based more upon the acts of individuals. There is the constantly recurring theme of incest which is linked to a form of sacrifice on the part of the participant(s). In the case of Oedipus there is the ritual sacrifice of a Sacred King, a theme which is the basis of Frazer’s The Golden Bough. We see the theme of the Tyrant opposed by a returning King or one marked for kingship, as was the case with Saul and David. There is the theme of the Mother Goddess (often representing the Earth Mother) and the Divine Child, exemplified by Isis and Horus and Mary and Jesus. There are the tales of the hero Kings, the patri patriae, such as Alexander, Asoka, Arthur, Charlemagne and Frederick Barbarossa linked with the concept of the returning King who will come back from the dead, and the eschatological and apocalyptic themes which are a part of this and which have already been discussed.

This inevitably leads to a consideration of the most common theme in myth and legend at the individual level; that of the hero and his Quest. The development of the hero and the Quest that he undertakes are often inseparable. For the hero to be a hero depends upon the manner in which he undertakes his Quest. In some cases the Quest is the pivotal issue in the life of the hero and we are not given a full biography, but merely his undertaking of the Quest. Sir Gawain is a well-known figure in the Arthurian legend. His most significant Quest, that related in the tale of the Green Knight, is but one of the many tales surrounding this hero.

The hero is an archetype. In his life he exemplifies man’s ideals and aspirations. He represents the higher goals that man can achieve. His actions are the symbolic leaps forward in man’s spiritual and moral progress. He has been able to battle past his personal and local historical limitations to serve as a model or example to a wider community. He ventures over the hill of everyday human existence to confront a possibly dreadful unknown, and does so willingly. The hero is symbolic of man’s desire to progress, not physically or materially, but spiritually and ethically, to find himself and his place in the nature of things. He is the creature of myth (or legend) in search of the meaning of myth. His goal may not be generalised absolute truth but in his quest he may achieve an absolute truth and self-realisation. Consequently, the life of the hero is a Quest or in the life of the hero a Quest may be a pivotal activity. Thus, in the Arthurian legend, Gawain speaks most significantly and symbolically in the tale of the Green Knight. Perceval’s most important function is his role in the Quest for the Sangreal. But the Quest is not restricted to the Arthurian or medieval myths. The Epic of Gilgamesh is entirely a Quest tale, as is the Odyssey and the Aeneid.

In all the Quest hero tales the hero ventures forth from the world of common or everyday events into a region of mystery or supernatural wonder. He encounters fabulous forces, achieves a decisive victory and returns, enriched and enlightened, to his fellow man and, by his actions and existence, bestows good fortune upon his community. Opposing the hero is the monster who may be a beast or a human tyrant, the latter acting regardless of the rights and sensibilities of those over whom he holds power. The characteristics of the monster are essentially the same. He is the hoarder of the general benefit, avid for the greedy rights of my and mine. He wreaks universal havoc throughout his domain. His ego is a curse to himself and his world. He is self-terrorised, haunted with fear and ready to oppose violently any threat to his rule. Wherever he rules a cry goes up for the redeemer, the saviour, the hero, carrier of the shining blade whose blow, touch or mere existence will liberate the land. By such an act of redemption the hero bestows benefits upon the oppressed victims of the monster and advances further upon the personal quest for self-realisation and moral righteousness. By slaying the monster he symbolically puts aside the black part of human nature, that penchant for evil that lies within us. The hero turns away from lust, greed, cruelty and megalomania and towards the more acceptable modes of behaviour that, theoretically at least, mark Man’s moral progress from savage barbarity to moral civilisation. So it is that the hero is archetypal. He represents us all. His actions are an example for us to emulate and follow. By following in his footsteps we become the hero.

Within the life of the hero are a number of steps or stages. These may occur over his whole life or may be reflected within the Quest that he undertakes. His life or adventure follows a pattern, involving separation from the world, the achievement of a source of power and a life enhancing return.

The advent of the hero, his birth or his background, is shrouded with mystery or surrounded by miracle. Quetzal, Attis and Jesus are examples of the miraculous birth, accompanied by portents and prophecy. The hero may, upon birth, be cast out from his home which is what happened to Siegfried, Moses, Oedipus and Romulus. He may be fostered in a different environment, quite alien from his true origins, or be totally left in the wild, abandoned to nature. Such situations symbolise his universal origins and nature. He is at ease in any environment. He appreciates power and wealth, poverty and degradation. He communes with the wild side of man’s soul. He speaks the language of animals. He is at one with nature and with his humanity and is thereby the universal representative of man.

At an early stage of his development the hero will undergo some form of initiation during which time he will reveal a part of his potential as a mover of events. The initiation is a form of rite of passage and as such is as much an indication to the hero himself of his potential as it is to others. It is the dawning or awakening of self-realisation. The initiation may take place in the infancy of the hero, such as Herakles and the serpents or Odysseus and the boar, or at a later time, such as David and Goliath. Jesus had two stages of initiation; one, the Youth Christ at the Temple, is preliminary. The main initiation comes at the Baptism in the Jordan and is a prelude to His ministry. From that point the events in the life of the hero follow swiftly upon one another for Him.

Following the initiation, and preceding his great acts, the hero goes through a period of withdrawal. Having been confronted with the potential of his being he must, psychologically, come to terms with it. He has a choice in the manner of the use of his powers. The choice that he makes, the path that he selects to follow, must be the right one. Consequently the withdrawal phase is a period of inner trial, as well as self-confrontation. Yet from such period of withdrawal the hero emerges to undertake his most important feat, which is the Quest.

The Quest, as I have indicated, is a search for the self and the essence of man’s being. The hero may receive and refuse the call, as did Perceval. Such a character represents those of us who would rather avoid self-confrontation. Perceval avoided the confrontation with mystic reality. Gawain, on the other hand, asked the question and was held to be a true seeker. He saved the King and the Kingdom and is an imitation of Christ. The Quest inevitably involves magic, beasts or the supernatural, or a combination of all three. The wizards, dragons, demons, giants or mystic dreams and visions are all part and parcel of the effort that the hero must put into the achievement of his goal. They symbolise the darkness, ignorance or temptation that stands in the way of progress towards true understanding, awareness and self-realisation. They must be, and are, overcome. The Quest within the life of the hero reveals an eternal struggle for self-realisation. But frequently associated with the Quest and its achievement is the death of the hero which may be actual or symbolic. I can think of no better example of symbolic death than Aragorn’s passage through the Paths of the Dead in The Lord of the Rings, which I shall discuss more fully in a later chapter. The actual death of the hero is not final, and may often be linked with nature and the concept of rebirth. Thus, when Odin’s Quest for the runes results in his death, and Christ’s Quest in a similarly actual and symbolic way, we see the hero in death cradled in the promise of rebirth. The tree, on which both Odin and Christ perished, has its roots in the unknown – that final part of the Quest to be attained.

Associated with death is the descent to the Underworld. Because the death of the hero is so often sacrificial and to conquer death he has first to die, the hero faces that which man fears most – the ultimate unknown from which there is no return – death. The hero becomes the scapegoat for humanity by the frequently sacrificial nature of his death. He carries our sins with him and on our behalf descends to the Underworld to confront Death or the Lord of the Underworld, or the Ultimate Evil itself. If the death of the hero is of a symbolic nature so too is his descent to the Underworld. His descent is not as one who is dead but as if he were one dead. Thus, Christ, who physically dies, descends to Hell to deliver His ultimatum to Satan and commence the Harrowing of Hell. Orpheus descends as part of his Quest for Eurydice and conquers death with his musical skill. His is a symbolic descent and a symbolic challenge. His descent represents the power of love and the immortal nature of pure art.

It is by Resurrection that the hero returns – and again this may be actual or symbolic. By rebirth, death is defeated and the cycle of Nature is re-established. The hero evidences his universality as the Man in Nature by actual or symbolic rebirth and the confirmation of the established order of things. He has not only confirmed order but also his self-awareness and self-realisation. His rebirth is a return to the source of his origins, to take up the promised honour, kingdom or throne which was foretold before or at his birth. His resurrection is a fulfilment of being.