by Tom Shippey
When it comes to modern writers, Tolkien was notoriously beyond influence (though reports of his skimpy reading have been much exaggerated, see especially the start of Chapter 6 above). Three authors of his youth must remain prominent in any account. One is George MacDonald, whose influence Tolkien both admitted and minimised, see references in the ‘Index’ to Letters: besides The Princess and the Goblin of 1872 and The Princess and Curdie ten years later one should note especially Phantastes (1858) and Lilith (1895). Tolkien also read William Morris, probably with more appreciation: Morris after all knew a good deal of Icelandic and had been stirred by heroic story, trying to reproduce its effects in three of the romances of his last years, The House of the Wolfings (1888), The Roots of the Mountains (1889) and The Glittering Plain (1891). The first is clearly about Goths; the second gave a hint for Gollum, as for Brodda the Easterling in The Silmarillion; the last is about a quest for the Undying Lands. In my introduction to the World’s Classics 1980 reprint of Morris’s The Wood Beyond the World (1894) I suggest a slight connection between that and the bewilderments of Fangorn Forest. Finally – though Tolkien never mentions him in a letter – I cannot help thinking that Tolkien knew Kipling’s stories well, especially the collections Puck of Pook’s Hill (1906) and Rewards and Fairies (1910). In both the theme of an unchanging Englishness is strong, as is that of smithcraft; and Puck’s dislike for the word ‘fairies’ and the ‘sugar-and-shake-your-head’ Victorian concepts attached is exactly that of Tolkien (see especially the story ‘Weland’s Sword’).
I do not think Tolkien would have had much time for Kipling’s ‘Indian’ works. The centre of all that has been mentioned in this essay is English tradition, though Tolkien was prepared to accept connections by blood with Iceland or Saxony or America, and (in a more gingerly way) by old proximity with the Irish or even the Finns. However he was in some ways what would now be called an ‘ethnic’ writer, though the rule for ‘ethnicity’ nowadays seems to be that anyone can have it except Anglo-Saxons (Tolkien was not quite a WASP). Largely this restriction is a penalty of success; since English is international the language naturally ceases to carry strong national sentiment. Behind that success, though, Tolkien was conscious of many centuries of discouragement which had suppressed native tradition in England more quickly, perhaps, than in any other European country. He valued what was left the more highly. In much of what he wrote and read one can see him trying to return to the time before confusion set in, when the traditions of the Shire and the Mark were uncorrupted.
A final word should be said about Tolkien criticism. Much of it, especially that written by professional literary critics, is quite remarkably short-sighted or perverse, for reasons of inner antipathy repeatedly discussed above. The best and most useful works are referred to in the list of ‘Abbreviations’ at the start of this volume, and in the ‘Notes’ at the end. Three overall surveys may also be recommended: first, Richard C. West’s Tolkien: An Annotated Checklist, Revised Edition (Kent, Ohio: Kent State University Press, 1981); second, Judith A. Johnson’s J.R.R. Tolkien: Six Decades of Criticism (Greenwood: Westport, Ct., and London, 1986); and bringing matters up to the present day, the long bibliography by Michael Drout, Hilary Wynne and Melissa Higgins, ‘Scholarly Studies of J.R.R. Tolkien and his Works (in English), 1984–2000) in Envoi vol. 9, no. 2 (Fall 2000), pp. 135–65.
APPENDIX B
FOUR ‘ASTERISK’ POEMS
Tolkien contributed some thirteen poems to Songs for the Philologists, according to Humphrey Carpenter in Biography, p. 357. Most are jeux d’esprit, either mildly satirical like ‘Lit. and Lang.’ (see above), or else remarkable only for their linguistic dexterity (like ‘Syx Mynet', an Old English rendering of ‘I’ve Got Sixpence', or ‘Ruddoc Hana', which is ‘Who Killed Cock Robin?'). Four of them, however, seem to have something more personal to say, and I accordingly reprint them here by kind permission of the executors of Tolkien’s estate. At some time after the production of Songs for the Philologists all four were furthermore carefully corrected and emended by Tolkien himself; I am grateful to Christopher Tolkien for showing me copies of the corrected texts, and have included, or noted, all such changes in the versions below. Since three of the poems are in Old English and one in Gothic, I have followed each text with a translation.
Two of the four may be described as ‘birch’ poems: for their relevance see above. The other two are poems in which a mortal is trapped in some way by an immortal. They are meant, I think, to appear as ‘ancestors’ for such ballads as ‘Tam Lin’ or ‘The Queen of Elfan’s Nourice’ in the Child collection, or ‘The Daemon Lover’ in Sharp’s, or ‘Agnes and the Merman’ in Svend Grundtvig’s (see Appendix A above). The corrected version of ‘Ofer Wídne Gársecg’ indeed includes the note, in Tolkien’s hand, ‘An OE version of ’Twas in the broad Atlantic in the equinoctial gales That a young fellow fell overboard among the sharks and whales’.
The Birch Poems
(a) BAGME BLOMA
Brunaim bairiþ Bairka bogum
laubans liubans liudandei,
gilwagroni, glitmunjandei,
bagme bloma, blauandei,
fagrafahsa, liþulinþi,
fraujinondei fairguni.
Wopjand windos, wagjand lindos,
lutiþ limam laikandei;
slaihta, raihta, hweitarinda,
razda rodeiþ reirandei,
bandwa bairhta, runa goda,
þiuda meina þiuþjandei.
Andanahti milhmam neipiþ,
liuhteiþ liuhmam lauhmuni;
laubos liubai fliugand lausai,
tulgus, triggwa, standandei.
Bairka baza beidiþ blaika
fraujinondei fairguni. (Gothic)
FLOWER OF THE TREES
The birch bears fine leaves on shining boughs, it grows pale green and glittering, the flower of the trees in bloom, fair-haired and supple-limbed, the ruler of the mountain.
The winds call, they shake gently, she bends her boughs low in sport; smooth, straight and white-barked, trembling she speaks a language, a bright token, a good mystery, blessing my people.
Evening grows dark with clouds, the lightning flashes, the fine leaves fly free, but firm and faithful the white birch stands bare and waits, ruling the mountain.
(I am indebted to Miss Rhona Beare of Adelaide University for showing me her translation of this poem.)
(b) ÉADIG BÉO ÞU
Éadig béo þu, góda mann!
Éadig béo þu, léofe wíf!
Langre lisse ic þe ann –
hafa lof and líþe líf!
Hé þe hér swa sáre swanc,
rúna rǽdde’ and fyrngewrit,
hál beo hé, on sálum wlanc,
healde láre’ and wís gewit!
Éadge béo we eft swa nú!
Dréam ne dréose, drync genóg
flówe on fullum síþ swa iú –
fyllaþ wǽge, fyllaþ cróg!
Byrla! byrla! medu scenc!
Dóm is feor þeah dóm sie strang.
Swinc forlǽt and géot ús drenc!
Lust is lýtel, earfoþ lang.
Uton singan scírne sang,
herian Beorc and byrcen cynn,
láre’ and láreow, leornungmann –
sie ús sǽl and hǽl and wynn!
Ác sceal feallan on þæt fýr
lustes, léafes, lífes wan!
Beorc sceal ágan langne tír,
bréme glǽme glengan wang! (Old English)
GOOD LUCK TO YOU
Good luck to you, good man, and to you, dear woman. I give you lasting joy, have praise and pleasant life. He who worked you here so hard, expounded runes and ancient texts, may he be happy too, merry at his feasts, and keep up good sense and learning.
May we be happy later as we are now, may joy not fail, and drink enough flow in the cups in times to come as times gone by – fill the cups and fill the pitchers! Waiter, waiter, give us mead! Doom is far though doom be strong, give up work
and pour us drink.* Joy is little and labour long.
Let’s sing a cheerful song, praise the Birch and birch’s race, the teacher, the student and the subject, may we all have health and joy and happiness. The oak will fall into the fire, losing joy and leaf and life. The birch shall keep its glory long, shine in splendour over the bright plain.
‘Trapped mortal’ Poems
(a) IDES ÆLFSCÝNE
Þa ǽr ic wæs cniht, þa cóm ic on pliht:
Sum mægden mé métte ond maélde:
‘La, léofa, wes hál! Sceal uncer gedál
nú nǽfre má weorðan on eorðan!’
Nó má weorðan on eorðan. (bis)
Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!
Sceal nǽfre má weorðan on eorðan.
Héo cyste me sóna, þær líxte se móna;
on clommum me clypte ond sǽlde;
on ofste me nóm mid hire’ under glóm,
þǽr sceadugong ǽfre wæs wǽfre,
wælmist ǽfre wæs wǽfre. (bis)
Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!
Þǽr sceadugong ǽfre wæs wǽfre.
Hwǽr wǽre’ hit ic nát: we stigon on bát,
þǽr murcnede mere on mealme.
Ofer lagu ic láð, ond modes ic máð,
ac ǽfre me strongode longað,
Awa strongode longað. (bis)
Wá! ides aelfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!
Þǽr ǽfre me strongode longað.
Þǽr gréne wæs grund, ond hwít hire hund,
ond gylden wæs hwǽte on healme,
on fyrlenum londe, on silfrenum stronde,
þǽr darode dweorg under beorgum
darode dweorg under beorgum. (bis)
Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!
Þǽr darode dweorg under beorgum.
To Gode’ ic gebæd, elþéodunga sæd
be dimmum ond dréorigum wǽgum.
Þǽr sunne ne scán, ac micel zimstán
on lyfte þǽr gléow mid his léomum,
léohte gléow mid his léomum. (bis)
Wâ! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!
On lyfte þǽr gléow mid his léomum.
Ofer missera hund ic wǽdla ond wund
eft cyrde to mennisce’ ond mǽzum:
on moldan wæs nú se ðe cúðe me iú,
ond hár ic nú wanize ána,
sáre wanize ána. (bis)
Wá! ides ælfscýne, ond wá, wine míne!
Ond hár ic nú wanize ána.
(Old English)
ELF-FAIR LADY
Before I was so much as a boy, I came into danger; a maiden met me and said: ‘Greetings, my darling, from now on the two of us must never be separated on earth’
– never be separated on earth. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! must never more be separated on earth.
She kissed me straight away, where the moon was shining, she embraced me and bound me in her grasp. Quickly she took me with her under the gloom, where the shadow-way always flickered
– where the death-mist always flickered. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! where the shadow-way always flickered.
I don’t know where I was, we stepped in a boat, where the sea moaned on the sand. I travelled over the ocean, and hid my thoughts to myself, but always my longing grew stronger
– always longing grew stronger. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! where longing always grew stronger.
There the ground was green, and her hound was white, and the wheat on the stalk was golden – in the far-off land, on the silver strand, where the dwarf lurked under the mountains
– the dwarf lurked under the mountains. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! where the dwarf lurked under the mountains.
I prayed to God, tired of my exile by the dim and dreary waves, where the sun did not shine, but a great gem-stone glowed there in the sky with his beams
– glowed brightly with his beams. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! glowed there in the sky with his beams.
Fifty years later I returned again, poor and hurt, to men and my family. The one who had known me before was now in the mould, and now I dwindle, grey and alone
– dwindle alone and in pain. Alas! elf-fair lady, and my friend, alas! and now I dwindle, grey and alone.
(b) OFER WÍDNE GÁRSECG
Þa ofer wídne gársecg wéow unwidre ceald,
Sum hagusteald on lagu féoll on nicera geweald.
He legde lást swa fýres gnást, he snude’ on sunde fléah,
Oþþæt he métte meremenn déopan grunde néah. –
La! hwæt, ic Gárdena on geárdagum geseah
Þéodcyninga-ninga-ninga þrym and –
brýdealoþ under brimfaroþ déopan grunde néah!
Þæt merewíf þá of stóle úplang héo gestód,
Mid fágum fintan fægniende: wæs hire grétung gód.
Héo smearciende smǽre’ hie wende, tǽhte hire hand;
‘Nú, wilcuma, lá, hláford mín, on meremenna land!’
La! hwæt, ic Gárdena on geárdagum onfand
Þéodcyninga-ninga-ninga þrym and –
brydealoþ under brimfaroþ on meremenna land.
‘Hér leng ne mót ic bídan, gedǽle’ ic nú wiþ þé!’
Héo cwæþ: ‘Ná, ná! ne biþ hit swá! Þu gewífast nú on mé.
Nú eft þú gá, and cweþ: “Nó má fare’ ic on sunde héah;
Gemæcca mín is meremann déopan grunde néah.”’
(First refrain)
On nácan his genéatas hine sohton wíde’ ymb sund;
Hi wéopon and hi hréopon and hi sméadon þone grand.
Þa úp he sprang and hlúde sang, and hearde helman hrand:
‘Gáþ eft ongen! me béodeþ cwén on meremenna land.’
(Second refrain)
‘Tódǽlaþ nú mín ágen, pannan, páde, préon!
Gifaþ hrægelciste mínre nifte, méder míne méon!
Se stéorman stód on stefne wód, and he to brime béah;
Cwæþ: ‘Far nu wel! þe hæbbe Hel, déopan grunde néah!’
(First refrain)
(Old English)
ACROSS THE BROAD OCEAN
When the cold blast was blowing across the broad ocean, a young man fell into the sea, into the power of the monsters. As fast as fire he made his way, he swam along so quickly – until he met the mermen near the deep sea-bottom.
– Listen, I have seen the power of the kings of the people of the Spear-Danes in days gone by* – and also the bridal beneath the sea, near the deep sea-bottom!
The mermaid then stood up from her chair, fawning with her shining tail: her greeting was good. Smirking with her lip she turned and stretched out her hand. ‘Now welcome indeed, my lord, to the mermen’s land!’
– Listen, I have discovered the power of the kings of the people of the Spear-Danes in days gone by – and also the bridal beneath the sea, in the mermen’s land!
‘I may not stay here any more, now separate from me!’ She said: ‘No, no, it will not be so! Now you will marry me. Now go back again and say: “I’ll go on the high sea no more. My wife is from the mermen near the deep sea-bottom.”’