by J. R. R. Tolkien; Christopher Tolkien; Humphrey Carpenter
I believe it was a moot-point in Hobbit lore (which the ruling of Mayor Samwise prevented from being argued in this particular case) whether 'adoption' by a childless 'head' could affect the descent of the headship. It was agreed that the adoption of a member of a different family could not affect the headship, that being a matter of blood and kinship; but there was an opinion that adoption of a close relative of the same name87 before he was of age entitled him to all privileges of a son. This opinion (held by Bilbo) was naturally contested by Otho.
There is no reason to suppose that the Stoors of Wilderland had developed a strictly 'matriarchal' system, properly so called. No trace of any such thing was to be found among the Stoor-element in the Eastfarthing and Buckland, though they maintained various differences of custom and law. Gandalf's use (or rather his reporter and translator's use) of the word 'matriarch' was not 'anthropological', but meant simply a woman who in fact ruled the clan. No doubt because she had outlived her husband, and was a woman of dominant character.
It is likely enough that, in the recessive and decadent Stoor-country of Wilderland, the women-folk (as is often to be observed in such conditions) tended to preserve better the physical and mental character of the past, and so became of special importance. But it is not (I think) to be supposed that any fundamental change in their marriage-customs had taken place, or any sort of matriarchal or polyandrous society developed (even though this might explain the absence of any reference whatever to Sméagol-Gollum's father). 'Monogamy' was at this period in the West universally practised, and other systems were regarded with repugnance, as things only done 'under the Shadow'.
I actually started this letter nearly four months ago; but it never got finished. Shortly after I received your enquiries my wife, who had been ill most of 1958, celebrated the return of health by a fall in the garden, smashing up her left arm so badly that she is still crippled and in plaster. So 1958 was an almost completely frustrated year, and with other troubles, and the imminence of my retirement involving many rearrangements, I have had no time at all to deal with the Silmarillion. Much though I wish to do so (and, happily, Allen and Unwin also seem to wish me to do).
[The draft ends here.]
215 To Walter Allen, New Statesman (drafts)
[Tolkien was asked to contribute to a symposium to be published in a Children's Book Supplement of the New Statesman. He was told: 'The kind of questions we should hope you would consider are : how far do you write with a specific audience in mind, i.e. how do you feel writing for children differs from writing for adult readers ? To what extent do you feel that writing for children satisfies a need in yourself, for example, by expressing a side of you repressed in ordinary life or by the exigencies of writing for adults? How do you see the relation between The Hobbit and The Fellowship of the Ring [sic] ? Are you conscious of a didactic purpose, and if so, how do you construe it?']
[Not dated; April 1959.]
Dear Mr Allen,
I am very sorry, but I shall not be able to take pan in the symposium. I have only recently returned from convalescence after an operation, and am faced with much neglected work. Term begins on April 24.
I have said all that I have to say about writing for children in my contribution: 'On Fairy-Stories': to Essays Presented to Charles Williams (O.U.P. 1947). It has no special interest to me.
When I published The Hobbit – hurriedly and without due consideration – I was still influenced by the convention that 'fairy-stories' are naturally directed to children (with or without the silly added waggery 'from seven to seventy'). And I had children of my own. But the desire to address children, as such, had nothing to do with the story as such in itself or the urge to write it. But it had some unfortunate effects on the mode of expression and narrative method, which if I had not been rushed, I should have corrected. Intelligent children of good taste (of which there seem quite a number) have always, I am glad to say, singled out the points in manner where the address is to children as blemishes.
I had given a great deal more thought to the matter before beginning the composition of The Lord of the Rings; and that work was not specially addressed to children or to any other class of people. But to any one who enjoyed a long exciting story, of the son that I myself naturally enjoy. ....
I am not specially interested in children, and certainly not in writing for them: i.e. in addressing directly and expressly those who cannot understand adult language.
I write things that might be classified as fairy-stories not because I wish to address children (who qua children I do not believe to be specially interested in this kind of fiction) but because I wish to write this kind of story and no other.
I do this because if I do not apply too grandiloquent a title to it I find that my comment on the world is most easily and naturally expressed in this way. I am not conscious of any repression exerted upon me by 'ordinary life'. Since large numbers of adults seem to enjoy what I write – quite enough to keep me happy – I have no need to seek escape to another and (possibly) less exigent audience.
I hope 'comment on the world' does not sound too solemn. I have no didactic purpose, and no allegorical intent. (I do not like allegory (properly so called: most readers appear to confuse it with significance or applicability) but that is a matter too long to deal with here.) But long narratives cannot be made out of nothing; and one cannot rearrange the primary matter in secondary patterns without indicating feelings and opinions about one's material. ....
The relation between The Hobbit and its sequel is I think this. The Hobbit is a first essay or introduction (consideration will admit I think that it is a very just point at which to begin the narration of the subsequent events) to a complex narrative which had been brewing in my mind for years. It was overtly addressed to children for two reasons : I had at that time children of my own and was accustomed to making up (ephemeral) stories for them; I had been brought up to believe that there was a real and special connexion between children and fairy-stories. Or rather to believe that this was a received opinion of my world and of publishers. I doubted it, since it did not accord with my personal experience of my own taste, nor with my observation of children (notably my own). But the convention was strong.
I think that The Hobbit can be seen to begin in what might be called a more 'whimsy' mode, and in places even more facetious, and move steadily to a more serious or significant, and more consistent and historical. .... But I regret much of it all the same. ....
The first question, it seems to me, to ask in any discussion of this kind is : What are 'Children' ? Do you limit your enquiry, as may be supposed, to (North) European children? Then in what ages between the cradle and the end of legal infancy? To what grades of intelligence? Or literary talent and perceptiveness? Some intelligent children may have little of this. Children's tastes and talents differ as widely as those of adults, as soon as they are old enough to be differentiated clearly, and therefore to be the target of any thing that can bear the name of literature. It would be useless to offer to many children of 14 or even of 12 the trash that is good enough for many respectable adults of twice or three times the age, but less gifts natural.
Life is rather above the measure of us all (save for a very few perhaps). We all need literature that is above our measure – though we may not have sufficient energy for it all the time. But the energy of youth is usually greater. Youth needs then less than adulthood or Age what is down to its (supposed) measure. But even in Age I think we only are really moved by what is at least in some point or aspect above us, above our measure, at any rate before we have read it and 'taken it in'. Therefore do not write down to Children or to anybody. Not even in language. Though it would be a good thing if that great reverence which is due to children took the form of eschewing the tired and flabby cliches of adult life. But an honest word is an honest word, and its acquaintance can only be made by meeting it in a right context. A good vocabulary is not acquired by reading books written according to some notion of th
e vocabulary of one's age-group. It comes from reading books above one.
[The draft ends here. The following is the letter that Tolkien actually sent to the New Statesman on 17 April:]
Dear Mr Allen,
I very much regret that it seems impossible for me to take pan in this symposium that you propose. I have only recently returned from convalescence after an operation and I am faced with much neglected work. Term begins next week and I shall not have time to produce any copy before April 19th.
Yours sincerely,
J. R. R. Tolkien.
216 From a letter to the Deputy Registrar, University of Madras
12 August 1959
I have to thank you for the honour of appointing me a member of your Board of Examiners. May I respectfully suggest, nonetheless, that it is inadvisable to do this without first consulting the persons appointed? I am unable to accept this examinership. I am fully occupied with other affairs, and I have in any case retired, and do not propose to take any further part in teaching and examining.
217 From a letter to Allen & Unwin
[Concerning the Polish translation of The Lord of the Rings.]
11 September 1959
I am sorry that owing to domestic troubles and turmoil I have neglected Mrs Skibniewska's letter.
It is quite impossible for me to write a lot of notes for her use..... As a general principle for her guidance, my preference is for as little translation or alteration of any names as possible. As she perceives, this is an English book and its Englishry should not be eradicated. That the Hobbits actually spoke an ancient language of their own is of course a pseudo-historical assertion made necessary by the nature of the narrative. I could provide or invent the original Hobbit language form of all the names that appear in English, like Baggins or Shire, but this would be quite pointless. My own view is that the names of persons should all be left as they stand. I should prefer that the names of places were left untouched also, including Shire. The proper way of treating these I think is for a list of those that have a meaning in English to be given at the end, with glosses or explanations in Polish.
218 To Eric Rogers
[A reply to a letter addressed to 'any Professor of English Language' at Oxford, asking whether it is correct to say 'A number of office walls has been damaged' or 'have been damaged'.]
9 October 1959
76 Sandfield Road, Headington, Oxford
Dear Sir,
Your letter has eventually reached me, though I am not 'any Professor of English Language', since I have now retired. The answer is that you can say what you like. Pedantry insists that since number is a singular noun, the verb should be singular, (has). Common sense feels that since the walls is plural, and are really concerned, the verb should be plural, (have). You may take your choice.
Yours sincerely
J. R. R. Tolkien.
219 From a letter to Allen & Unwin
[A Cambridge cat breeder had asked if she could register a litter of Siamese kittens under names taken from The Lord of the Rings.]
14 October 1959
My only comment is that of Puck upon mortals. I fear that to me Siamese cats belong to the fauna of Mordor, but you need not tell the cat breeder that.
220 From a letter to Naomi Mitchison
15 October 1959
I 'retired' – or rather, since even British generals usually imply a voluntary movement to the rear when they 'retire', I was extruded on the age limit at the end of last term. In many ways a melancholy proceeding, especially financially. Though I have belonged to F.S.S.U. since it began in 1920, it does not provide enough for one to live on one's laurels (old and dusty as Christmas decorations in January). Without the assistance of 'Hobbits and all that' things would be meagre. Nonetheless (not a little encouraged by your letter) I decided to get off the treadmill, and resigned from my appointment in Ireland before I returned. I shall, if I get a chance, turn back to the matter of the Red Book and allied histories soon.
221 From a letter to the First Assistant Registrar, Oxford University
[Following Tolkien's retirement, the Board of the Faculty of English sent an appreciation of his 'long and invaluable service', and expressed 'its regret that it will not in future have the benefit of your wise advice and unsparing help in its deliberations. It wishes at the same time to express its sense of the distinction which your wide, meticulous, and imaginative scholarship has brought to the faculty and to the University.']
24 November 1959
I am deeply grateful to the Board of the Faculty of English for the extremely generous terms in which they have addressed me. My only misgiving is that they present a picture of a professor far superior to the one that has retired. However, conscious merit is no doubt a solace and support, but there is nonetheless a peculiar pleasure in receiving honours and compliments one doesn't deserve. One result of retirement that I never expected is that I actually miss the meetings of the Board. Not, of course, the agenda, but the gathering together of so many dear friends.
222 From a letter to Rayner Unwin
[Unwin had encouraged Tolkien to prepare his translations of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and Pearl for publication.]
9 December 1959
My delay in answering your letter of December 3rd is mainly due to the fact that I have become immersed again in work in which you are interested. I am afraid that you may be perturbed rather than surprised (knowing too well the vagaries of authors, or at least of mine), to hear that this is in wrong order. With the help of my secretary I have been charging well ahead with the reconstruction of the Silmarillion etc. Your letter comes as a timely if unwelcome jerk on the reins. Quite clearly I must take up Gawain immediately. I shall not manage it before Christmas; but I recently ordered and inspected the material and I do not think that the actual text of the translation of Gawain and of Pearl now need very much work. I shall be able to let you have the text of the two poems soon after Christmas; they can be set up separately. I am still a little uncertain about what other matter to add to them by way of introduction or notes. I think very little, since people who buy the translations will probably belong to one of two classes: those who just want the translation, and those who have access to editions and other full treatments of the problems presented by the poems.
223 From a letter to Rayner Unwin
31 July 1960
I am in fact utterly stuck — lost in a bottomless bog, and anything that would cheer me would be welcome. The crimes of omission that I committed in order to complete the 'L. of the R.' are being avenged. The chief is the Ancrene Riwle. My edition of the prime MS. should have been completed many years ago! I did at least try to clear it out of the way before retirement, and by a vast effort sent in the text in Sept. 1958. But then one of the misfortunes that attend on delay occurred; and my MS. disappeared into the confusion of the Printing Strike. The proofs actually arrived at the beginning of this June, when I was in full tide of composition for the Silmarillion, and had lost the threads of the M[iddle] E[nglish] work. I stalled for a while, but I am now under extreme pressure: 10 hours hard per diem day after day, trying to induce order into a set of confused and desperately tricky proofs, and notes. And then I have to write an introduction. (And then there is Sir Gawain.) Until the proofs of the text at least have gone back, I cannot lift my head.
224 From a letter to Christopher Tolkien
[A comment on a book by C. S. Lewis.]
12 September 1960
I have just received a copy of C.S.L.'s latest: Studies in Words. Alas! His ponderous silliness is becoming a fixed manner. I am deeply relieved to find I am not mentioned.
I wrote for him a long analysis of the semantics and formal history of *BHŪ with special reference to φῠσις. All that remains is the first 9 lines of PHUSIS (pp. 33-34) with the characteristic Lewisian intrusion of 'beards and cucumbers'. The rest is dismissed on p. 36 with 'we have not a shred of evidence'. He remains at best and worst an Oxford 'classical' don – whe
n dealing with words. I think the best bit is the last chapter, and the only really wise remark is on the last page: 'I think we must get it firmly fixed in our minds that the very occasions on which we should most like to write a slashing review are precisely those on which we had much better hold our tongues.' Ergo silebo.
225 From a letter to Rayner Unwin
[Puffin Books had offered to publish a paperback edition of The Hobbit.]
10 December 1960
Thank you for your news of the 'Puffin' offer, and your advice. I may safely leave the decision to your own wisdom. The chances of profit or loss, in cash or otherwise, are evidently neatly balanced. If you wish to know my personal feelings: I am no longer able to ignore cash-profit, even to the odd £100, but I do share your reluctance to cheapen the old Hobbit. Unless the profit or advantage is clear, I would much rather leave him to amble along; and he still shows a good walking-pace. And I am not fond of Puffins or Penguins or other soft-shelled fowl: they eat other birds' eggs, and are better left to vacated nests.
226 From a letter to Professor L. W. Forster
31 December 1960
The Lord of the Rings was actually begun, as a separate thing, about 1937, and had reached the inn at Bree, before the shadow of the second war. Personally I do not think that either war (and of course not the atomic bomb) had any influence upon either the plot or the manner of its unfolding. Perhaps in landscape. The Dead Marshes and the approaches to the Morannon owe something to Northern France after the Battle of the Somme. They owe more to William Morris and his Huns and Romans, as in The House of the Wolfings or The Roots of the Mountains.