The Letters of J. R. R.Tolkien
Page 8
People in this land seem not even yet to realize that in the Germans we have enemies whose virtues (and they are virtues) of obedience and patriotism are greater than ours in the mass. Whose brave men are just about as brave as ours. Whose industry is about 10 times greater. And who are – under the curse of God – now led by a man inspired by a mad, whirlwind, devil: a typhoon, a passion: that makes the poor old Kaiser look like an old woman knitting.
I have spent most of my life, since I was your age, studying Germanic matters (in the general sense that includes England and Scandinavia). There is a great deal more force (and truth) than ignorant people imagine in the 'Germanic' ideal. I was much attracted by it as an undergraduate (when Hitler was, I suppose, dabbling in paint, and had not heard of it), in reaction against the 'Classics'. You have to understand the good in things, to detect the real evil. But no one ever calls on me to 'broadcast', or do a postscript! Yet I suppose I know better than most what is the truth about this 'Nordic' nonsense. Anyway, I have in this War a burning private grudge – which would probably make me a better soldier at 49 than I was at 22: against that ruddy little ignoramus Adolf Hitler (for the odd thing about demonic inspiration and impetus is that it in no way enhances the purely intellectual stature: it chiefly affects the mere will). Ruining, perverting, misapplying, and making for ever accursed, that noble northern spirit, a supreme contribution to Europe, which I have ever loved, and tried to present in its true light. Nowhere, incidentally, was it nobler than in England, nor more early sanctified and Christianized. ....
Pray for me. I need it, sorely. I love you.
Your own Father.
46 From a draft to R. W. Chapman 26 November 1941
[George S. Gordon, who died early in 1942, was Tolkien's head of department at Leeds University in the early 1920s, before becoming Professor of English Literature at Oxford and then President of Magdalen College. This draft appears to have been written in reply to a request from Chapman, the Secretary to the Delegates of the Oxford University Press, for reminiscences of Gordon, perhaps to be incorporated into an obituary; Gordon was already known to be terminally ill at the time the letter was written.]
I do not remember dates. Perhaps you know these? I put down some impressions, from which your skill may select a few notes or phrases that may seem appropriate. I associate Leeds with Gordon, although as a matter of fact of my six years there (1920-1925 and one year as a pluralist) the larger part was spent in the company of Abercrombie.
I remember that (before the last war) Gordon's departure from Oxford was viewed with some consternation among the undergraduates of the English School in Oxford; but as a stiff-necked young philologist I did not myself regard the event as important. I first met Gordon at the interview in Leeds (June 1920) for the 'Readership' in English Language: established after the death by drowning of Moorman. I suppose the title (novel in Leeds), and the high salary (as such things go) were both due to Gordon and his farsighted policy. I was, I believe, only a substitute for Sisam (not the least of whose kindnesses was his pointing out the chance to me). But Gordon's kindness and encouragement began at our first meeting. He rescued me from the barren waiting-room, and took me to his house. I remember we spoke of Raleigh on the tram. As (still) a stiff-necked young philologist, I did not in fact think much of Raleigh – he was not, of course, a good lecturer; but some kind spirit prompted me to say that he was 'Olympian'. It went well; though I only really meant that he reposed gracefully on a lofty pinnacle above my criticism.
I was extraordinarily fortunate. And if I speak so of myself, instead of directly and impersonally of Gordon, it is because my prime feeling and first thoughts of him are always of personal gratitude, of a friend rather than of an academic figure. It is not often in 'universities' that a Professor bothers with the domestic difficulties of a new junior in his twenties; but G. did. He found me rooms himself, and let me share his private room at the University. I do not think that my experience was peculiar. He was the very master of men. Anyone who worked under him could see (or at least suspect) that he neglected some sides of his own work: finding, especially, the sort of half-baked 'research', and dreary thesis-writing by the serious minded but semi-educated hunters of the M.A., of which there was far too much, an exceeding weariness, from which he sometimes took refuge in flight. Yet he created not a miserable little 'department', but a team. A team fired not only with a departmental esprit de corps, determined to put 'English' at the head of the Arts departments, but inspired also with a missionary zeal. ....
A personal contribution of his was his doctrine of lightheartedness: dangerous, perhaps, in Oxford, necessary in Yorkshire. No Yorkshireman, or woman, was ever in danger of regarding his class in finals as a matter of indifference (even if it did not have a lifelong effect on his salary as a school teacher): the poet might 'sit in the third and laugh', but the Yorkshire student would not. But he could be, and was, encouraged to play a little, to look outside the 'syllabus', to regard his studies as something larger and more amusing than a subject for an examination. This note Gordon struck and insisted on, and even expressed in print in the little brochure which he had made for the use of his students. There was very little false solemnity, except rarely and that among the students.
As for my side: the foundations were already securely laid for me, and the lines of development marked out. But, subject always to his unobtrusive control, I had a 'free hand'. Every encouragement was given to development on the mediaeval and linguistic side; and a friendly rivalry grew up between two, nearly equal, divisions. Each had its own 'seminars'; and there were sometimes combined meetings. Quite the happiest and most balanced 'School' I have seen. I think it might be called a 'School'. Gordon found 'English' in Leeds a departmental subject (I rather fancy you could not get a degree in it alone) and left it a school of studies (in bud). When he arrived he shared a box of glazed bricks, mainly furnished with hot water pipes, with the Professor of French, as their private room. Mere assistants possibly had a hat-peg somewhere. When he left we had 'English House', where every member had a separate room (not to mention a bathroom!) and a common room for students: and with this centre the growing body of students became a cohesive unit, and derived some of the benefits (or distant reflections of them) that we associate with a university rather than a municipal college. It would not have been difficult to build on this foundation. But I fancy that, after he left, the thing just 'ran on', and did not fall into hands of the same quality. In any case numbers fell and finances changed. And Vice-Chancellors. Sir Michael Sadler I imagine was a helpful superior; and he left about the same time.
47 To Stanley Unwin
[Unwin wrote on 4 December to say that Foyle's bookshop in London were to issue The Hobbit under the imprint of their Children's Book Club, and that this had enabled Allen & Unwin to reprint the book. This was all the more desirable as the previous stock of copies had been burnt during an air-raid on London.]
7 December 1942
20 Northmoor Road, Oxford
Dear Mr Unwin,
Thank you for your note, containing two items of hope. I have for some time intended to write and enquire whether in the present situation it was of any use, other than private and family amusement, to endeavour to complete the sequel to The Hobbit. I have worked on it at intervals since 1938, all such intervals in fact as trebled official work, quadrupled domestic work, and 'Civil Defence' have left. It is now approaching completion. I hope to get a little free time this vacation, and might hope to finish it off early next year. My heart rather misgives me, all the same. I ought to warn you that it is very long, in places more alarming than 'The Hobbit', and in fact not really a 'juvenile' at all. It has reached Chapter XXXI and will require at least six more to finish (these are already sketched); and the chapters are as a rule longer than the chapters of The Hobbit. Is such an 'epic' possible to consider in the present circumstances? Would you like to wait, until it is really finished; or would you care to see a considerable portion of i
t now? It is in type-script (of various amateur hands) up to about Ch. xxiii. I don't think you will be disappointed with the quality of it. It has had the approval of the original Hobbit audience (my sons and Mr C.S.Lewis), who have read or heard it many times. But it is a question of paper, bulk, and market! It would require two maps.
The burning of The Hobbit was a blow. I am to blame in not writing (as I intended) and expressing to you my sympathy with the grievous damage you must have sustained, of which I shared only a very small pan. Is any 'compensation' eventually recoverable? ....
Would you also consider a volume, containing three or four shorter 'Fairy' stories and some verses? 'Farmer Giles', which I once submitted to you, has pleased a large number of children and grown-ups. If too short, I could add to it one or two similar tales, and include some verse on similar topics, including 'Tom Bombadil'....
Yours sincerely,
J. R. R. Tolkien.
48 To C. S. Lewis
[Lewis kept very few letters, and only two that Tolkien actually sent to him have survived. (For the second, see no. 113.) "The U.Q.' is an abbreviation for 'Useless Quack', the nickname given by his fellow Inklings to R. E. Havard, Tolkien and Lewis's doctor. 'Ridley' was M. R. Ridley of Balliol College, who, with Tolkien and Lewis, was involved in teaching forces cadets at the university, on the wartime 'short courses'. Lewis was, meanwhile, also travelling around England giving talks on the Christian religion to RAF stations.]
20 April 1943
[20 Northmoor Road, Oxford]
My dear Jack,
V. sorry to hear you are laid low – and with no U.Q. to suggest that it may be your last illness! You must be v: disconsolate. I begin to think that for us to meet on Wednesdays is a duty: there seem to be so many obstacles and fiendish devices to prevent it.
I hope to have a good report of you soon. But do not trouble yourself. Ridley was so astounded at the ignorance of all 22 cadets, revealed in his first class, that he has leaped at the chance of another hour, esp. since otherwise there was no 'Use of E[nglish]' class next week at all. You can (if you wish) shove in 'Arthur' on some other date, when you are recovered fully. The tutorials do not matter.
I fear you are attempting too much. For even if you have merely got 'flu', you are prob. tiring yourself into an easy victim. As a mere 'director', I shall hope v. much to persuade you to ease off in travel (if poss.), and put some weight into this cadet stuff. I am a bit alarmed by it. My lone machine-gun since it started seems to me to have missed the target, and it needs at least one more gun – to depend on – other than the valuable Ridley.
I lunched at the Air Squadron to-day & got a brief whiff of an atmosphere now all too familiar to you, I expect.
Yours affectionately
T
PS. Ridley's first question in the test-paper was a group of words to define – apposite, reverend, venal, choric, secular and a few others. Not one cadet got any of the words right.
49 To C. S. Lewis (draft)
[A comment on Lewis's suggestion, in Christian Behaviour (1943), that 'there ought to be two distinct kinds of marriage': Christian marriage, which is binding and lifelong, and marriage-contracts solemnised only by the State, which make no such demands. The draft, apparently written in 1943, was found tucked into Tolkien's copy of Lewis's booklet.]
My dear L.,
I have been reading your booklet 'Christian Behaviour'. I have never felt happy about your view of Christian 'policy' with regard to divorce. I could not before say why – because on the surface your policy seems to be reasonable; and it is at any rate the system under which Roman Catholics already live. For the moment I will not argue whether your policy is in fact right (for today), even an inevitable situation. But I should like to point out that your opinion is in your booklet based on an argument that shows a confusion of thought discoverable from that booklet itself.
p. 34. 'I'd be very angry if the Mohammedans tried to prevent the rest of us from drinking wine.' Justly so. Let us consider this point alone, at first. Why? Well, if we try to ascend straightaway to a rational plane, and leave behind mere anger with anyone who interferes with our habits (good or bad), the answer is: because the Mohammedans would be guilty of injustice. They would be injuring us by depriving us of our share in a universal human right, the temperate use of wine, against our will. You made that quite clear in your remarks about Temperance, p. 13.
But look now at pp. 26, 30, 31. There you will observe that you are really committed (with the Christian Church as a whole) to the view that Christian marriage – monogamous, permanent, rigidly 'faithful' – is in fact the truth about sexual behaviour for all humanity: this is the only road of total health (including sex in its proper place) for all men and women. That it is dissonant with men's present sex-psychology does not disprove this, as you see: 'I think it is the instinct that has gone wrong,' you say. Indeed if this were not so, it would be an intolerable injustice to impose permanent monogamy even on Christians. If Christian marriage were in the last analysis 'unnatural' (of the same type as say the prohibition of flesh-meat in certain monastic rules) it could only be imposed on a special 'chastity-order' of the Church, not on the universal Church. No item of compulsory Christian morals is valid only for Christians. (See II Social Morality at the beginning.) Do I not then say truly that your bringing in of Mohammedans on p. 34 is a most stinking red-herring? I do not think you can possibly support your 'policy', by this argument, for by it you are giving away the very foundation of Christian marriage. The foundation is that this is the correct way of 'running the human machine'. Your argument reduces it merely to a way of (perhaps?) getting an extra mileage out of a few selected machines.7
The horror of the Christians with whom you disagree (the great majority of all practising Christians) at legal divorce is in die ultimate analysis precisely that: horror at seeing good machines ruined by misuse. I could hope that, if you ever get a chance of alterations, you would make the point clear. Toleration of divorce – if a Christian does tolerate it – is toleration of a human abuse, which it requires special local and temporary circumstances to justify (as does the toleration of usury) – if indeed either divorce or genuine usury should be tolerated at all, as a matter merely of expedient policy.
Under your limitations of space you have not, of course, had opportunity to elaborate your 'policy' – toleration of abuse. But I must suppose you have considered it, as a practical policy in the present world. You do not speak of your two-marriage system as a merely expedient policy, but as if it was somehow related to the Christian virtue of charity. Still I think you can only defend it as an expedient; as a surgeon who, knowing that an operation is necessary for a patient's health, does not operate because he can't (the patient and the patient's foolish advisers won't allow him); or does not even advocate the operation, because the Anti-Surgical League is so powerful and vocal that he is afraid of being beaten up. A Christian of your view is, as we have seen, committed to the belief that all people who practise 'divorce' – certainly divorce as it is now legalized – are misusing the human machine (whatever philosophical defence they may put up), as certainly as men who get drunk (doubtless with a philosophic defence also). They are injuring themselves, other people, and society, by their behaviour. And wrong behaviour (if it is really wrong on universal principles) is progressive, always: it never stops at being 'not very good', 'second best' – it either reforms, or goes on to third-rate, bad, abominable. In no department is that truer than in sex – as you yourself vividly exhibit, in the comparison between a dish of bacon and strip-tease. You show too that you yourself suspect that the break-down of sex-reticence in our time has not made matters better but worse. Anyone in any case can see that the enormous extension and facilitation of 'divorce' in our days, since those of (say) Trollopean society, has done great social harm. It is a slippery slope – leading quickly to Reno, and beyond: in fact already to a promiscuity barely restrained by legalities: for a pair can now divorce one another, have an inte
rlude with new partners, and then 're-marry'. A situation is being, has been, produced in which ordinary unphilosophical and irreligious folk are not only not restrained by law from inconstancy, but are actually by law and social custom encouraged to inconstancy. I need hardly add that a situation is thus being produced in which it is intolerably hard to bring up Christian youth in Christian sexual morals (which are ex hypothesi correct morals for all, and which will be lost but which depend upon Christian youth for their maintenance).
On what grounds then do you part company with those Christians who resist, step by step, attempts to extend and make divorce easier? (On one point only would I agree. I do not view extension of the provisions of the law to all classes (irrespective of rank and money) as an extension of divorce – it is rather justice: if you can have real justice in evil. I think in so desperate a battle (about so fundamental and vital a matter) that resistance even of 'cheapening' of divorce may be defended – why not save the poor by their poverty?; but I admit that as an expedient policy it may be given an ugly twist by the enemy.)
I should like to know on what grounds you base your 'two-marriage' system! From the biological-sociological point of view I gather (from Huxley and others) that monogamy is probably highly beneficial to a community. On that plane, permanence and rigid fidelity would not appear at first sight to be essential. All that the 'social director' requires would seem to be a high degree of sexual continence. But has this ever been, and can it ever be in fact achieved without 'sanctions' or religio-legal ordinance that invests the marriage contract with 'awe'? It does not look like it. The battle may be a losing one, but I cannot help suspecting that those who fight against the divorce in this case of law and religion are in the right. Sentire cum ecclesia: how often one finds that this is a true guide. I say this all the more cheerfully, because on this point I myself dissented in feeling (not expressly because I am under saving obedience). But I was then still under the delusion that Christian marriage was just a bit of special behaviour of my 'sect or order'.