The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien (37 page)

I was sorry to find, when it was returned, that the screed on ‘languages' etc. had been sent uncorrected, and with lots of words and phrases unerased, so that parts were hardly intelligible.

You may be interested to hear that a reprint of
The Fellowship
seems already to be needed. But I do not suppose the first printing was very large.

Yours sincerely

J. R. R. Tolkien.

I am afraid I have been far too casual about ‘magic' and especially the use of the word; though Galadriel and others show by the criticism of the ‘mortal' use of the word, that the thought about it is not altogether casual. But it is a v. large question, and difficult; and a story which, as you so rightly say, is largely about motives (choice, temptations etc.) and the intentions for using whatever is found in the world, could hardly be burdened with a pseudo-philosophic disquisition! I do not intend to involve myself in any debate whether ‘magic' in any sense is real or really possible in the world. But I suppose that, for the purposes of the tale, some would say that there is a latent distinction such as once was called the distinction between
magia
and
goeteia
.
¹
Galadriel speaks of the ‘deceits of the Enemy'. Well enough, but
magia
could be, was, held good (per se), and
goeteia
bad. Neither is, in this tale, good or bad (per se), but only by motive or purpose or use. Both sides use both, but
with different motives. The supremely bad motive is (for this tale, since it is specially about it) domination of other ‘free' wills. The Enemy's operations are by no means all goetic deceits, but ‘magic' that produces real effects in the physical world. But his
magia
he uses to bulldoze both people and things, and his
goeteia
to terrify and subjugate. Their
magia
the Elves and Gandalf use (sparingly): a
magia,
producing real results (like fire in a wet faggot) for specific beneficent purposes. Their goetic effects are entirely
artistic
and not intended to deceive: they never deceive Elves (but may deceive or bewilder unaware Men) since the difference is to them as clear as the difference to us between fiction, painting, and sculpture, and ‘life'.

Both sides live mainly by ‘ordinary' means. The Enemy, or those who have become like him, go in for ‘machinery' – with destructive and evil effects – because ‘magicians', who have become chiefly concerned to use
magia
for their own power, would do so (do do so). The basic motive for
magia
– quite apart from any philosophic consideration of how it would work – is immediacy: speed, reduction of labour, and reduction also to a minimum (or vanishing point) of the gap between the idea or desire and the result or effect. But the
magia
may not be easy to come by, and at any rate if you have command of abundant slave-labour or machinery (often only the same thing concealed), it may be as quick or quick enough to push mountains over, wreck forests, or build pyramids by such means. Of course another factor then comes in, a moral or pathological one: the tyrants lose sight of objects, become cruel, and like smashing, hurting, and defiling as such. It would no doubt be possible to defend poor Lotho's introduction of more efficient mills; but not of Sharkey and Sandyman's use of them.

Anyway, a difference in the use of ‘magic' in this story is that it is not to be come by by ‘lore' or spells; but is in an inherent power not possessed or attainable by Men as such. Aragorn's ‘healing' might be regarded as ‘magical', or at least a blend of magic with pharmacy and ‘hypnotic' processes. But it is (in theory) reported by hobbits who have very little notions of philosophy and science; while A. is not a pure ‘Man', but at long remove one of the ‘children of Lúthien'.
²

4 November 1954

76 Sandfield Road, Headington, Oxford

My dear Rob,

It is remarkably kind of you to write at such length amid, I fear, weariness. I am answering at once, because I am grateful, and because
only letters that I do treat so ever get answered, and most of all because your parcel has arrived when having done all my ‘prep' – ordering all the minutes and resolutions of a long and argumentative College-meeting yesterday (there being no fellow of ill-will, and only 24 persons of the usual human absurdity. I felt rather like an observer at the meeting of Hobbit-notables to advise the Mayor on the precedence and choice of dishes at a Shire-banquet) – I have half an hour to spare before going down hill for a session with the College secretary. That is the kind of sentence I naturally write. . . . .

No, ‘Sméagol' was not, of course, fully envisaged at first, but I believe his character was implicit, and merely needed attention. As for Gandalf: surely it is not to join P. H.
¹
to voice
any
criticism! I could be much more destructive myself. There are, I suppose, always defects in any large-scale work of art; and especially in those of literary form that are founded on an earlier matter which is put to new uses – like Homer, or Beowulf, or Virgil, or Greek or Shakespearean tragedy! In which class, as a class not as a competitor,
The Lord of the Rings
really falls though it is only founded on the author's own first draft! I think the way in which Gandalf's return is presented is a defect, and one other critic, as much under the spell as yourself, curiously used the same expression: ‘cheating'. That is partly due to the ever-present compulsions of narrative technique. He must return at that point, and such explanations of his survival as are explicitly set out must be given there – but the narrative is urgent, and must not be held up for elaborate discussions involving the whole ‘mythological' setting. It is a little impeded even so, though I have severely cut G's account of himself. I might perhaps have made more clear the later remarks in Vol. II (and Vol. III) which refer to or are made by Gandalf, but I have purposely kept all allusions to the highest matters down to mere hints, perceptible only by the most attentive, or kept them under unexplained symbolic forms. So God and the ‘angelic' gods, the Lords or Powers of the West, only peep through in such places as Gandalf's conversation with Frodo: ‘behind that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker's'; or in Faramir's Númenórean grace at dinner.

Gandalf really ‘died', and was changed: for that seems to me the only real cheating, to represent anything that can be called ‘death' as making no difference. ‘I am G. the
White
, who has returned from death'. Probably he should rather have said to Wormtongue: ‘I have not passed through death (
not
‘fire and flood') to bandy crooked words with a serving-man'. And so on. I might say much more, but it would only be in (perhaps tedious) elucidation of the ‘mythological' ideas in my mind; it would not, I fear, get rid of the fact that the return of G. is as presented in this book a ‘defect', and one I was aware of, and probably
did not work hard enough to mend. But G. is not, of course, a human being (Man or Hobbit). There are naturally no precise modern terms to say what he was. I wd. venture to say that he was an
incarnate
‘angel' – strictly an
:
²
that is, with the other
Istari,
wizards, ‘those who know', an emissary from the Lords of the West, sent to Middle-earth, as the great crisis of Sauron loomed on the horizon. By ‘incarnate' I mean they were embodied in physical bodies capable of pain, and weariness, and of afflicting the spirit with physical fear, and of being ‘killed', though supported by the angelic spirit they might endure long, and only show slowly the wearing of care and labour.

Why they should take such a form is bound up with the ‘mythology' of the ‘angelic' Powers of the world of this fable. At this point in the fabulous history the purpose was precisely to limit and hinder their exhibition of ‘power' on the physical plane, and so that they should do what they were primarily sent for: train, advise, instruct, arouse the hearts and minds of those threatened by Sauron to a resistance with their own strengths; and not just to do the job for them. They thus appeared as ‘old' sage figures. But in this ‘mythology' all the ‘angelic' powers concerned with this world were capable of many degrees of error and failing between the absolute Satanic rebellion and evil of Morgoth and his satellite Sauron, and the fainéance of some of the other higher powers or ‘gods'. The ‘wizards' were not exempt, indeed being incarnate were more likely to stray, or err. Gandalf alone fully passes the tests, on a moral plane anyway (he makes mistakes of judgement). For in his condition it was for him a
sacrifice
to perish on the Bridge in defence of his companions, less perhaps than for a mortal Man or Hobbit, since he had a far greater inner power than they; but also more, since it was a humbling and abnegation of himself in conformity to ‘the Rules': for all he could know at that moment he was the
only
person who could direct the resistance to Sauron successfully, and all
his
mission was vain. He was handing over to the Authority that ordained the Rules, and giving up personal hope of success.

That I should say is what the Authority wished, as a set-off to Saruman. The ‘wizards', as such, had failed; or if you like: the crisis had become too grave and needed an enhancement of power. So Gandalf sacrificed himself, was accepted, and enhanced, and returned. ‘Yes, that was the name. I was Gandalf.' Of course he remains similar in personality and idiosyncrasy, but both his wisdom and power are much greater. When he speaks he commands attention; the old Gandalf could not have dealt so with Théoden, nor with Saruman. He is still under the obligation of concealing his power and of teaching rather than forcing or dominating wills, but where the physical powers of the Enemy are too great for the good will of the opposers to be effective he can act in
emergency as an ‘angel' – no more violently than the release of St Peter from prison. He seldom does so, operating rather through others, but in one or two cases in the War (in Vol. III) he does reveal a sudden power: he twice rescues Faramir. He alone is left to forbid the entrance of the Lord of Nazgûl to Minas Tirith, when the City has been overthrown and its Gates destroyed – and yet so powerful is the whole train of human resistance, that he himself has kindled and organized, that in fact no battle between the two occurs: it passes to other mortal hands. In the end before he departs for ever he sums himself up: ‘I was the enemy of Sauron'. He might have added: ‘for that purpose I was sent to Middle-earth'. But by that he would at the end have meant more than at the beginning. He was sent by a mere prudent plan of the angelic Valar or governors; but Authority had taken up this plan and enlarged it, at the moment of its failure. ‘Naked I was sent back – for a brief time, until my task is done'. Sent back by whom, and whence? Not by the ‘gods' whose business is only with this embodied world and its time; for he passed ‘out of thought and time'. Naked is alas! unclear. It was meant just literally, ‘unclothed like a child' (not discarnate), and so ready to receive the white robes of the highest. Galadriel's power is not divine, and his healing in Lórien is meant to be no more than physical healing and refreshment.

But if it is ‘cheating' to treat ‘death' as making no difference, embodiment must not be ignored. Gandalf may be enhanced in power (that is, under the forms of this fable, in sanctity), but if still embodied he must still suffer care and anxiety, and the needs of flesh. He has no more (if no less) certitudes, or freedoms, than say a living theologian. In any case none of my ‘angelic' persons are represented as knowing the future completely, or indeed at all where other
wills
are concerned. Hence their constant temptation to do, or try to do, what is for them
wrong
(and disastrous): to force lesser wills by power: by awe if not by actual fear, or physical constraint. But the nature of the gods' knowledge of the history of the World, and their part in making it (before it was embodied or made ‘real') – whence they drew their knowledge of the future, such as they had, is part of the major mythology. It is at least there represented that the intrusion of Elves and Men into that story was not any part of theirs at all, but reserved: hence Elves and Men were called the Children of God; and hence the gods either loved (or hated) them specially: as having a relation to the Creator equal to their own, if of different stature. This is the mythological-theological situation at this moment in History, which has been made explicit but has not yet been published.