LotR - Foreword

[Mister Underhill]

Regarding Tolkien's attitude on over-zealous fans and his creation: I know from a personal standpoint, I too often fall into the trap of trying to boil down Tolkien's attitude on any particular topic, such as this one, into a single pat answer.

But JRRT was a complex person who lived a long life. Like the rest of us, his opinions were subject to change according to what time in his life and under what circumstances you asked him.

I think there were times when he was flattered and happy to have moved so many people; then I'm sure there were other days -- say, after some rabid, half-psychotic "Frodo" had invaded his garden -- that he wondered if he hadn't done more harm than good.

In short, I think JRRT had a very complex relationship with LotR (and its impact on fans and the literary world), one that isn't easily boiled down.

[piosenniel]

Better late than never . . .

Just a brief comment on the Foreword before the opportunity passes by and the discussion has wholly gone onto the Prologue. And you will excuse me, if you will, if this does nothing to add to the well done thoughts on allegory, The Great War, religious impact of Tolkien’s belief systems, and etc.

First, let me confess, that in all my many years of reading Tolkien, I have managed to skip, overlook, pass quickly by the Foreword every time. The few author forewords I have read have proved tedious, at best, in my opinion. So it was with a sense of resignation that I prompted myself to look through this one, this time.

And quick that look-through began until I came to this section:

. . . I found that the story could not now be wholly abandoned, and I plodded on, mostly by night, till I stood by Balin’s tomb in Moria. There I halted for a long while. . . .I went on and so came to Lothlórien and the Great River. . . .

I gasped . . . something rang a bell of recognition in me. The old fellow, I thought, would have made a cracking RP-Gamer!

An invisible player intrigued by the unfolding of his storyline, he stands with the fellowship at the fallen Dwarf’s tomb - tarries a while as creative juices fail for the moment; real life becomes insistent (one or the other or both); then, journeys on with them to The Great River and into the heart of the Golden Wood. Late at night, after what passes for the real work is done, he plods on as he can . . . tapping the keys of his typewriter in a two-fingered staccato (nod to Arry for that earlier image).

He’s hooked on the tale that grows in the telling of it . . .

I’d give my eye teeth to have been able to game with him! Gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

And then, of course, there are the maps . . . lovely maps . . . a Gamer’s delight . . . but that should wait ’til the Prologue is discussed, I suppose.


~*~ Pio

*. . . written in the late watches of the night . . . herself rather unskilled in the art of ten-fingered typing . . .

[Gorwingel]

Sorry that I didn't get to this thread sooner. But it is just that I have been so busy recently with things that I just haven't had the time.

I have read the Foreword everytime I have read LOTR, and even sometimes I have read it multiple times through. I find it to be very insightful, and interesting, and actually worth the time to even the regular reader.

As others have said the 2nd edition prologue is very much influenced by what Tolkien was going through at the time (i.e. massive fandom). Like for example at the end when he talks about all the "comments and enquiries" he has received from "attentive readers". At this time he was being bombarded with letters, people coming to his home, and phonecalls (some directly from the U.S.) at the most unconvienant of times. All of this activity would most definitely effect your opinion towards your work of writing (especially because he was such a quiet gentleman).

I also must bring up this quote because to me it is just so brilliant...

Some who have read the book, or at any rate have reviewed it, have found it boring, absurd, or contemptible; and I have no cause to complain, since I have similar opinions of their works, or the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer.

I just love how he was so truthful, and candid when he wrote this. We learn that the story was taken in by the public, in a way that he didn't expect (i.e. the entire section on alligory). We also learn about the actual writing process, and how long it took for him to eventually finish his masterwork. It is only 3 1/2 pages long but it tells a ton about the person behind the story.

[Guinevere]

I agree, Gorwingel!

I have similar opinions of their works, or the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer.

I wonder what books those were actually? Does anyone know some examples?

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

Since those words appear largely to have been motivated by resentment at some of the more dismissive criticism that his writing had received, I doubt that any solid examples will ever be forthcoming. I think that Tolkien had anticipated adverse criticism, but had expected it to be more courteously phrased than some of the reviews he received. As is probably only to be expected, he dismisses such criticism out of hand as the opinions of those who enjoy reading drivel. Sad though it is to say it, I think that the phrase quoted above was more a malicious response to certain reviewers of his work than a serious criticism of any particular books.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

As it happens, we do have a fairly good idea of the kinds of books/critics who Tolkien was talking about in that moment. Most of the most cutting reviews of LotR (and they only became more cutting as the years went by and the book went through edition after edition, and worse, became a bestseller in America) came from the critics who wrote for the more "literary" reviews (The Times Literary Supplement for example).

These critics were, throughout the middle part of the last century, almost wholly in accord with one another that the "best" kind of novels were those of the High Moderns (Virginia Woolf, James Joyce, Henry James, D.H. Lawrence, Joseph Conrad) and their inheritors. They valued experimentation in style (non-linear narrative, mixing genres, shifts in voice/tone/point of view) and an aesthetic that priviledges uncertainty and ambiguity. Tolkien, they felt, offered none of these things: he was writing in a style that was not only not-new, but was in fact very very old, and behind the interesting questions of his work, there was little ambiguity or uncertainty (we know not only who but what is good and evil in LotR).

It wasn't just Tolkien who came in for this kind of dismissive treatment. Evelyn Waugh (of Brideshead Revisited fame) and Graham Greene received similarly bad reviews. Interestingly, all of these writers were "openly" Catholic in their writings and dealt with issues of faith, belief and absolute notions of good and duty. You won't find much of that in the Moderns valued by the critics at the TLS in Tolkien's lifetime!

[mark12_30]

These critics were, throughout the middle part of the last century, almost wholly in accord with one another that the "best" kind of novels were those of the High Moderns (Virginia Woolf, James Joyce, Henry James, D.H. Lawrence, Joseph Conrad) and their inheritors. They valued experimentation in style (non-linear narrative, mixing genres, shifts in voice/tone/point of view) and an aesthetic that priviledges uncertainty and ambiguity. Tolkien, they felt, offered none of these things: he was writing in a style that was not only not-new, but was in fact very very old

To paraphrase Reepicheep (who always reminded me of Boromir): It is, then, my very good fortune not to be a "modern critic." I much prefer the older styles.

It's interesting that conservationism and conservativism are regarded as opposites these days, for Tolkien was both. He brings them into harmony within his own personality and in his writings. He cherished, protected, and championed that which was old, good, honorable, and vulnerable. Everything from forests to epic prose to gentleness, humility, and self-sacrifice, to honor, responsibility, and just plain "The Good Old Way Of Doing Things"-- as long as it is honorable and high, purged of the gross, beautiful, poetic, he brings us to love Age and the Ancient, and

faith, belief and absolute notions of good and duty

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

It's all well and good to identify a major source of criticism and point to the tastes of its authors, but since Tolkien refuses to name names, either of the reviewers he was describing or of 'the kinds of writing that they evidently prefer', it's very difficult to pin him down to specific examples of books or authors that he considered inferior. I don't remember reading any comment by Tolkien on any of the 'high modern' authors mentioned above, let alone anything resembling an opinion on them. His only comments on modern literature (in one case, English literature in general) admit an absence of both knowledge and interest, and the most recent writers I find mentioned in his letters are Isaac Asimov and Mary Renault, of whom he approved. Although we might speculate as to which authors and critics were the target for his broadside in the 1966 foreword, there's no indication that Tolkien had even read a book by Joyce or Woolf, let alone decided what he thought of their writing.

I think that Tolkien intended his comments to be taken personally by a few reviewers and critics who had been particularly scathing about The Lord of the Rings. 'What they think is immaterial to me,' says Tolkien, 'because I have no desire to write the sort of rubbish that appeals to them.' This isn't a precise indication of Tolkien's literary tastes, but pure defensive aggression. He may well have disliked modern literature (actually his attitude towards it seems to have been closer to indifference), but as far as his actual words are concerned, his statement comes across simply as a counter-blow in print against the people who had been most contemptuously critical of his own work. Perhaps more completely than any other line in the later foreword, this gives away its true nature as the author's response to his work's reception, and by no means is it an apologia.