Carpe Cakem!

If I ever write a story, it will be about immortality. I love the phrase he uses here: The fugitive spirit.

…lastly there is the oldest and deepest desire, the Great Escape: the Escape from Death. Fairy-stories provide many examples and modes of this—which might be called the genuine escapist, or (I would say) fugitive spirit. But so do other stories (notably those of scientific inspiration), and so do other studies. Fairy-stories are made by men not by fairies. The Human-stories of the elves are doubtless full of the Escape from Deathlessness. But our stories cannot be expected always to rise above our common level. They often do. Few lessons are taught more clearly in them than the burden of that kind of immortality, or rather endless serial living, to which the “fugitive” would fly. For the fairy-story is specially apt to teach such things, of old and still today.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Recovery, Escape, Consolation)

It was an irresistible development of modern illustration (so largely photographic) that borders should be abandoned and the “picture” end only with the paper. This method may be suitable for photographs; but it is altogether inappropriate for the pictures that illustrate or are inspired by fairy-stories. An enchanted forest requires a margin, even an elaborate border. To print it conterminous with the page, like a “shot” of the Rockies in Picture Post, as if it were indeed a “snap” of fairyland or a “sketch by our artist on the spot,” is a folly and an abuse.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, (Note H)

This is not something I had never noticed or considered, but I think he’s right. Proper fairy-stories need to be compartmentalized to some degree to work their magic. It may seem at the surface that this is “throwing the camera a wink” again, but I think it’s of a different sort. The fairy-story doesn’t need to throw the wink because the border is already there. It finds freedom within the margin’s constraints.

The Bible is a curious case. It must be treated as both a true myth and as raw true history (of the photographic sort) to observe it’s full glory. It’s multi-faceted.

As far as our western, European, world is concerned, this “sense of separation” has in fact been attacked and weakened in modern times not by fantasy but by scientific theory. Not by stories of centaurs or werewolves or enchanted bears, but by the hypotheses (or dogmatic guesses) of scientific writers who classed Man not only as “an animal”—that correct classification is ancient—but as “only an animal.” There has been a consequent distortion of sentiment. The natural love of men not wholly corrupt for beasts, and the human desire to “get inside the skin” of living things, has run riot. We now get men who love animals more than men; who pity sheep so much that they curse shepherds as wolves; who weep over a slain war-horse and vilify dead soldiers. It is now, not in the days when fairy-stories were begotten, that we get “an absence of the sense of separation.”

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Note G)

For the record, I’m all for the careful and proper stewardship of our environment and resources. Cruelty to animals is still cruelty and it is evil. But Man is not just an animal. From any standpoint – philosophical, biological, political – man MUST be seen as a separate sort of creation or all sorts of existential trouble will brew. Man is made in the image of God. Jesus became a man, not just a clever homosapien.

I went to church with a girl in college who now works for PETA. Sorry. I’m afraid she is very confused. It is a difficult atmosphere to recite the Creed in and have it mean anything worth living for.

In the conclusion of his essay on sub-creation, Tolkien brings in the gospel front and center. But it’s not a “Jesus died so we can escape this hell hole and go to heaven when we die” sort of good news. It’s really good news for now. Not rain-check redemption. The angle he takes is the same as N.T. Wright. I dig this stuff. It gives me hope.

…in God’s kingdom the presence of the greatest does not depress the small. Redeemed Man is still man. Story, fantasy, still go on, and should go on. The Evangelium has not abrogated legends; it has hallowed them, especially the “happy ending.” The Christian has still to work, with mind as well as body, to suffer, hope, and die; but he may now perceive that all his bents and faculties have a purpose, which can be redeemed.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Epilogue)

Speaking again on the appeal of fairy-stories:

This, however, is the modern and special (or accidental) “escapist” aspect of fairy-stories, which they share with romances, and other stories out of or about the past. Many stories out of the past have only become “escapist” in their appeal through surviving from a time when men were as a rule delighted with the work of their hands into our time, when many men feel disgust with man-made things.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Recovery, Escape, Consolation)

In discussing fantasy, Tolkien feels it necessary to mention a particular exception: “Chestertonian Fantasy” which gets it’s fuel from looking at mundane things in a new and clever way. To the canny author, there is no end of material here… but it doesn’t really count.

Of course, fairy-stories are not the only means of recovery, or prophylactic against loss. Humility is enough. And there is (especially for the humble) Mooreeffoc, or Chestertonian Fantasy. Mooreeffoc is a fantastic word, but it could be seen written up in every town in this land. It is Coffee-room, viewed from the inside through a glass door, as it was seen by Dickens on a dark London day; and it was used by Chesterton to denote the queerness of things that have become trite, when they are seen suddenly from a new angle. That kind of “fantasy” most people would allow to be wholesome enough; and it can never lack for material. But it has, I think, only a limited power; for the reason that recovery of freshness of vision is its only virtue. The word Mooreeffoc may cause you suddenly to realize that England is an utterly alien land, lost either in some remote past age glimpsed by history, or in some strange dim future to be reached only by a time-machine; to see the amazing oddity and interest of its inhabitants and their customs and feeding-habits; but it cannot do more than that: act as a time-telescope focused on one spot. Creative fantasy, because it is mainly trying to do something else (make something new), may open your hoard and let all the locked things fly away like cage-birds. The gems all turn into flowers or flames, and you will be warned that all you had (or knew) was dangerous and potent, not really effectively chained, free and wild; no more yours than they were you.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Recovery, Escape, Consolation)

This is a bit of a muddy passage. I had to read it twice. What he’s talking about here though I find thrilling: turning the dry, boring, mundane life we live day in day out into something fascinating. Kathleen Norris explores this idea in her memoir Dakota and, well, all her other books too. It’s the only way to stay sane in a small town perhaps. I think it must be tied to contentment as well, something I could certainly put to good use.

This was Chesterton’s modus operandi and a large reason as to why his writing on almost any topic is stimulating.

Here, Tolkien discusses plays (Drama):

Drama is, even though it uses a similar material (words, verse, plot), an art fundamentally different from narrative art. Thus, if you prefer Drama to Literature (as many literary critics plainly do), or form your critical theories primarily from dramatic critics, or even from Drama, you are apt to misunderstand pure story-making, and to constrain it to the limitations of stage-plays. You are, for instance, likely to prefer characters, even the basest and dullest, to things. Very little about trees as trees can be got into a play.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Fantasy)

I’ve always loved story much more than characters. Give me a plot-driven novel or adventure, not some dull epic full of nothing but sitting around talking.

My wife leans more towards enjoying interesting characters and relationships, though even she does not drift that far into drama. She still detests Jane Austin and any book made up primarily of political intrigue.

Neither of us have found much enjoyment in the theatre, with the exception of musicals.

A pastor of mine used to preach regularly that “People are more important than things!”. Oh, bother. I sure prefer things most of the time.

If Tolkien had lived to be 111 and seen his masterpiece on the screen – 10+ hours of meticulous sets and costumes, elven dialog, and spectacular effects – what might he have said?

Who knows, but his attitude towards the theatre would likely carry over to the cinema as well:

A reason, more important, I think, than the inadequacy of stage-effects, is this: Drama has, of its very nature, already attempted a kind of bogus, or shall I say at least substitute, magic: the visible and audible presentation of imaginary men in a story. That is in itself an attempt to counterfeit the magician’s wand. To introduce, even with mechanical success, into this quasi-magical secondary world a further fantasy or magic is to demand, as it were, an inner or tertiary world. It is a world too much. To make such a thing may not be impossible. I have never seen it done with success. But at least it cannot be claimed as the proper mode of Drama, in which walking and talking people have been found to be the natural instruments of Art and illusion.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Fantasy)

The story is what is real. The words on the page are a layer over the top of that. An actor walking around pretending to be someone else is a THIRD layer. It is the nature of the art form and has it’s place and certain advantages and tools to communicate meaning. Tolkien felt that ultimately it served to obscure the “real” story even more. I think it likely he would have thought the same of the movies.

I quite enjoy the movies myself, though they aren’t perfect. I’ve often told people who are critical of the movies for not always following the book exactly that they must view the cinema as a retelling of the real story itself, not a reworking of the book. If the movie is a 2nd layer, like the literature is a 2nd layer, then it stands up much taller as a piece of art and is exempt from much of the criticism thrown at it (action-packed Warg fights not withstanding).

This is interesting:

Chesterton once remarked that the children in whose company he saw Maeterlinck’s Blue Bird were dissatisfied “because it did not end with a Day of Judgment, and it was not revealed to the hero and the heroine that the Dog had been faithful and the Cat faithless.” “For children,” he says, “are innocent and love justice; while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy.”

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Children)

Early in his life, the apostle Paul was more religious and zealous for God than anyone else around him. Near the end of his life, he declared himself to be the chief of sinners. As a child, he would have enjoyed stories that ended with justice. In his old age, all he desired was mercy. I feel myself growing more toward this every day. God forbid that I should receive justice. I would be turned to a heap of ash.

There is another element here that I think is related. It has to do with psychological personality profiles. The Myers-Briggs system is popular, and, in my opinion, one of the more helpful ones. It has four axi:

• Introversion/Extroversion
• Sensing/Intuitive
• Thinking/Feeling
• Judging/Perceiving

For example. I happen to be INTJ. In regards to the test, these words all have special definitions, so if you aren’t familiar with the methodology, it’s not worth commenting on it.

Now one of the key characteristics of “Judging” people is that they desire closure. They tend to want to make plans and manage and control the world around them.

“Perceiving” individuals are more open-ended, flexible, and can tolerate a lack of closure. On the flip-side, they may be poor planners and can sometimes lack assertiveness.

Now, I’ve been taught that no personality is sinful, it’s what you do with it. But I will make this statement nonetheless:

The older and wiser (and by wiser I mean that in the best sense of the word) a person becomes, the more their personality will tend away from “J” and toward “P”. Their desire for closure and justice will ebb and the desire for mercy and the acceptance of circumstances and people as they are will increase.

Now, I know if you’re really into the personality profile scene, things are more nuanced than this. I’m not being fair. But I think I’ll hold by my hypothesis anyway.

I tested a strong “J” my freshman year of college, 10 years ago. I know that in my personal experience, if God has permitted me to grow in any wisdom (and becoming a husband and father might have something to do with this), it has correlated clearly with a move away from closure and justice and accepting more open-ended circumstance and a greater variety of people.

The other primary reinforcement to this idea is reading the accounts of the spiritual journeys of others. Just like Tolkien says here, people often move from desiring justice to desiring mercy – not just for themselves, but for others too. This naturally correlates to a change in personality.

Is “P” more mature than “J”? In some ways, I believe so.

This is a marvelous passage. I don’t have any other comments.

The process of growing older is not necessarily allied to growing wickeder, though the two do often happen together. Children are meant to grow up, and not to become Peter Pans. Not to lose innocence and wonder, but to proceed on the appointed journey: that journey upon which it is certainly not better to travel hopefully than to arrive, though we must travel hopefully if we are to arrive. But it is one of the lessons of fairy-stories (if we can speak of the lessons of things that do not lecture) that on callow, lumpish, and selfish youth peril, sorrow, and the shadow of death can bestow dignity, and even sometimes wisdom.

-J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairy-Stories, (Children)