On Fantasy

On a recent weekend trip back to my hometown of Roseville, near Sacramento, I marked an important milestone on my literary checklist. I completed Tolkien's epic Lord of the Rings for the second time. By the time I closed the pages of the well-worn and dog-eared copy of The Return of the King, I felt like I had parted company with a group of close friends. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin are the soul of the story. Though most of the story sees them traversing different parts of Middle Earth and facing different conflicts with the supreme power of the Dark Lord Sauron, ultimately they lie at the core of what makes the story great.

The last time I read through the series I was scarcely out of sixth grade, acquainted with the fantasy genre through Tolkien's friend C.S. Lewis, who led me alongside the Pevensie children through the enchanted realm of Narnia and beyond. Lewis placed the seed, while Tolkien watered and ultimately brought it to maturity within me. I'm surprised it took me so long to re-read the epic adventure that spans three books and hundreds of pages; up to that point I was deep in the sci-fi realm thanks to authors Frank Herbert and Orson Scott Card. Tolkien provided the impetus to rediscover the father of all great high fantasy, to whom popular writers like Robert Jordan and George R.R. Martin owe so much of their craft. Unlike the Silmarillion, whose long passages of dense mythological treatments on the history of the elves reads more like translated ancient history and less like a story, the Lord of the Rings was easy to get through, for the most part. As I mentioned before, the hobbits keep the story alive, imbuing the text with a sort of youthful endearment that elevates all the darkness that they face throughout their journey. They are not without help along the way, especially from unexpected places. Aragorn is seen as Strider, the shadowy Ranger of the North that eventually claims his throne as rightful heir to the kingdom of Gondor, whose strength is tenuous by the time of the War of the Ring. Returning from his adventure with Bilbo as counted in The Hobbit, Gandalf the Wizard braves the evils of an underground battle with a demon, returns as the White Wizard and chief opponent of the dark spirits that Sauron employs in his service.

What surprised me most was how hope fades from all the characters except these core few. Frodo and Sam face increasingly desperate odds as they journey into the heart of the Dark Lord's realm Mordor. Frodo's vision is taken up by the dreaded "wheel of fire" that does not allow him to rest or gain any energy from food. Such is the burden of the heroic ringbearer, whose hope eventually dies at the very climax of the story when the creature Gollum reappears at the brink of the fiery Mount Doom, the only place that the ring can be unmade. As Sauron's armies swarm from Mordor's gates to crash upon the strength of Gondor like water, we are made to feel overwhelmed, hemmed in by the tide of darkness that covers the land. The siege is led by the dreadful chief of the Nazgul, a corrupted spirit that battles Gandalf on the walls of the fortress city Minas Tirith. Only the bravery of Merry and his friend on the battlefield below undoes this force levied against the gates of the city, but at great cost; the fight nearly kills him and others. I felt as if the quest to destroy the ring was tragically doomed from the start until that final moment came as Frodo stands at the brink of the fiery chasm deep in the territory of the enemy. It's a testament both the to imagination of the author and the storied principle that small things can bring great consequences and should not be underestimated.

I won't provide an analysis of what I feel Tolkien was getting at in his writing, but I do see some strong themes of courage, sacrifice, and faith shine through the pages. The characters are willing to risk their lives for a cause greater than all of them, opposing evil in a triumphant, if sometimes foolhardy way. As we close the saga the hobbits return to find a Shire affected by the blight of evil they fought so hard to destroy. This is one large plot point that Peter Jackson left out of the final version of his film that introduced millions to Middle Earth. It serves to underscore the pervasive sense of fallen nature, shared not just by humanity but by all races in the story, be they the tragic elves or the suspicious dwarves. The odds they face against the grip of Sauron's evil eye leave us relieved by the time the shadow passes, and we gratefully greet the "far green country under a swift sunrise" that Frodo beholds as he passes from this world to the next.

I owe Tolkien much in my own creative development. When I was a kid in suburban Virginia my brother and I played elaborate imaginative games in the woods and streets near our house. Though indebted more to Lewis than anything, the evolution of the story in later years in undoubtedly influenced by the violent and dark passages woven by Tolkien. I envisioned a realm ruled by men in skyscrapers that climbed into the sky, yet with military technology limited to sword and arrow-shot. Will the stories we told remain locked in my own imagination? Probably so. But I know that the creativity it takes to spin these stories is given a gracious welcome through great storytellers like Tolkien. He gave us a great English-language mythology that won't be forgotten anytime soon.