The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
Page 42
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 the 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 part 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
11 September 1959
[Concerning the Polish translation of The Lord of the Rings.]
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
14 October 1959
[A Cambridge cat breeder had asked if she could register a litter of Siamese kittens under names taken from The Lord of the Rings.]
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.1 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 Ireland2 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
24 November 1959
[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.’]
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
9 December 1959
[Unwin had encouraged Tolkien to prepare his translations of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and Pearl for publication.]
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 af
ter 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
12 September 1960
[A comment on a book by C. S. Lewis.]
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 fn88BHŪ with special reference to . 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 – when 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.1
225 From a letter to Rayner Unwin
10 December 1960
[Puffin Books had offered to publish a paperback edition of The Hobbit.]
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.
227 From a letter to Mrs E. C. Ossen Drijver
5 January 1961
Númenor, shortened form of Númenórë, is my own invention, compounded from numē–n, ‘going down’ √ndū, nu), sunset, West, and nōrë ‘land, country’ = Westernesse. The legends of Númenórë are only in the background of The Lord of the Rings, though (of course) they were written first, and are only summarised in Appendix A. They are my own use for my own purposes of the Atlantis legend, but not based on special knowledge, but on a special personal concern with this tradition of the culture-bearing men of the Sea, which so profoundly affected the imagination of peoples of Europe with westward-shores.
C. S. Lewis is a very old friend and colleague of mine, and indeed I owe to his encouragement the fact that in spite of obstacles (including the 1939 war!) I persevered and eventually finished The Lord of the Rings. He heard all of it, bit by bit, read aloud, but never saw it in print till after his trilogy was published. His Numinor was derived, by ear, from Númenor, and was indeed intended to refer to my work and other legends (not published) of mine, which he had heard.
I am now under contract engaged (among alas! other less congenial tasks) in putting into order for publication the mythology and stories of the First and Second Ages – written long ago, but judged hardly publishable, until (so it seems) the surprising success of The Lord of the Rings, which comes at the end, has provided a probable demand for the beginnings. But there are, I fear, no hobbits in The Silmarillion (or history of the Three Jewels), little fun or earthiness but mostly grief and disaster. Those critics who scoffed at The Lord because ‘all the good boys came home safe and everyone was happy ever after’ (quite untrue) ought to be satisfied. They will not be, of course – even if they deign to notice the book!
228 From a letter to Allen & Unwin
24 January 1961
[The Swedish publishers of The Lord of the Rings, Gebers, were dubious about including the Appendices in their edition of the book. Tolkien’s opinion on the matter was sought.]
I have great sympathy with any foreign publisher adventurous enough to embark on a translation of my work. After all, my chief interest in being translated is pecuniary, as long as the basic text is treated with respect; so that even if the touchiness of parenthood is outraged, I should wish to refrain from doing or saying anything that may damage the good business of being published in other countries. And I have also Messrs. Allen and Unwin to consider. But the matter of the Appendices has a pecuniary aspect.
I do not believe that they give the work a ‘scholarly’ (? read pedantisk) look, and they play a major part in producing the total effect: as Messrs. Gebers’ translator has himself pointed out (selecting the detail and the documentation as two chief ingredients in producing the compelling sense of historical reality). In any case, purchasers of vol. iii will presumably be already involved: vol. iii is not a separate book to be purchased solely on its own merits. Actually, an analysis of many hundreds of letters shows that the Appendices have played a very large part in reader’s pleasure, in turning library readers into purchasers (since the Appendices are needed for reference), and in creating the demand for another book. A sharp distinction must be drawn between the tastes of reviewers (‘donnish folly’ and all that) and of readers! I think I understand the tastes of simple-minded folk (like myself) pretty well. But I do appreciate the question of costs and retail prices. There is a price beyond which simple-minded folk cannot go, even if they would like to. . . . .
I do not know what the situation is with regard to the sale of the English book in countries where a translation has been published. I suppose that no obstacle, direct or indirect, is put in the way of obtaining them, and they can in any case be ordered by a determined purchaser through a bookseller. The demand is no doubt very small. . . . and not of any financial interest. But I am interested in the point. The original is my only protection against the translators. I cannot exercise any control over the translation of such a large text, even into the few languages that I know anything about; yet the translators are guilty of some very strange mistakes. (As I should be, working as they must under pressure in a limited time).
Dr Ohlmarks,1 for instance, though he is reported to me to be clever and ingenious, can produce such things as this. In translating vol. i p. 12, ‘they seldom wore shoes, since their feet had tough leathery soles and were clad in a thick curling hair, much like the hair of their heads’, he read the text as ‘. . . their feet had thick feathery soles, and they were clad in a thick curling hair …’ and so produces in his Introduction a picture of hobbits whose outdoor garb was of matted hair, while under their feet they had solid feather-cushion treads! This is made doubly absurd, since it occurs in a passage where he is suggesting that the hobbits are modelled on the inhabitants of the idyllic suburb of Headington.
I do not object to biographical notice, if it is desirable (the Dutch did without it). But it should be correct, and it should be pertinent. I think I must ask to be allowed to see anything of this kind in future, before it is printed. Or alternatively I will draw up a brief statement which I will submit to you as a possible hand-out in case of any demand for such material.
Who is Who is not a safe source in the hands of foreigners ignorant of England. From it Ohlmarks has woven a ridiculous fantasy. Ohlmarks is a very vain man (as I discovered in our correspondence), preferring his own fancy to facts, and very ready to pretend to knowledge which he does not possess. He does not he
sitate to attribute to me sentiments and beliefs which I repudiate. Among them a dislike of the University of Leeds, because it was ‘northern’ and no older than the Victorian seventies. This is impertinent and entirely untrue. If it should come to the knowledge of Leeds (fortunately unlikely) I should make him apologize.
229 From a letter to Allen & Unwin
23 February 1961
I now enclose a copy and version of Ohlmarks’ nonsense. In the hope that you may think it justifies my annoyance. I have not looked at his second outburst. I feel I cannot just now take any more.
[The following are excerpts from Tolkien’s commentary on Åke Ohlmarks’ introduction to the Swedish translation of The Lord of the Rings. Passages in italics are quotations from Tolkien’s translation of the introduction.]
It is hard to believe that the deep-rooted native-born hobbit from Middle South England. . . . would feel very much at home [in Leeds]. Inauguration into the Anglo-Saxon chair in Oxford was for him like coming home again from a trial expedition up to the distant ‘Fornost’.