Reading and Reeling #3: Mythopoeia by J. R. R. Tolkien

Welcome to Reading and Reeling, where I share quick thoughts about various books, movies, and shows as I read or watch them.

I recently read Mythopoeia as a part of a leisure class I'm taking on Tolkien. For the uninitiated, Tolkien penned this poem in response to C.S. Lewis's assertion that myths were "lies breathed through silver." Lewis had not yet become the author we all know at this point in his life, mind you. Tolkien was so insulted by the idea that myths were "lies and therefore meaningless" that he wrote the poem to express that myth-making is a vital means of conveying the truth.

The first few lines of the poem are probably my favorite. There, Phylomythus (the myth lover) begins his address to Misomythus (the myth hater) as follows:

You look at trees and label them just so,

(for trees are ‘trees’, and growing is ‘to grow’);

you walk the earth and tread with solemn pace

one of the many minor globes of Space:

a star’s a star, some matter in a ball

compelled to courses mathematical

amid the regimented, cold, inane,

where destined atoms are each moment slain.

Tolkien's rebuke here of the materialistic and deterministic worldview of Lewis and many other academics of his time reminded me of G. K. Chesterton's barbs of prose meant for those eager to strip creation of its soul. Tolkien describes the materialists' worldview in a way that, when juxtaposed with the human experience, makes it seem quite silly. Who, after all, can walk upon the Earth and see its beauty and great wonders while also holding that it is a mere "minor globe of Space?" Again, I compare the ideas to those of Chesterton, who, in his masterpiece Orthodoxy, asserts that the earliest men who beheld the Earth and the stars with a sense of wonder and mysticism were the sanest men of all, as they had not yet been taught the dehumanizing and insanity-inducing lie of materialism. These men correctly sensed that there was something beyond the physical universe. They were in touch with a fundamental truth about human existence.

Later in the poem, Tolkien shifts his focus to the myth-makers, or "sub-creators." He describes their stories as "many hues" resulting from the splintering of a "single White." In other words, their myths convey shards of truth that all stem from a single Truth - the Truth being the immaterial something that primitive humans sensed when gazing toward the heavens (to again tie Chesterton's articulations into it).

The heart of man is not compound of lies,

but draws some wisdom from the only Wise,

and still recalls him. Though now long estranged,

man is not wholly lost nor wholly changed.

Dis-graced he may be, yet is not dethroned,

and keeps the rags of lordship one he owned,

his world-dominion by creative act:

not his to worship the great Artefact.

Man, sub-creator, the refracted light

through whom is splintered from a single White

to many hues, and endlessly combined Page

in living shapes that move from mind to mind.

Though all the crannies of the world we filled

with elves and goblins, though we dared to build

gods and their houses out of dark and light,

and sow the seed of dragons, 'twas our right

(used or misused). The right has not decayed.

We make still by the law in which were made.

And again, a little farther down the page, Tolkien penned a line that indicates that myths reach truths that may be otherwise unreachable:

Blessed are the legend-makers with their rhyme

of things not found within recorded time.

These themes are expounded upon as the poem continues until closing with another stirring rebuke of materialism and further elaboration about sub-creators drawing from "the All."

J.R.R Tolkien

As you may be able to tell, this poem resonated with me. Tolkien describes exactly my aim in writing, as well as the type of stories I wish I found more often in the modern literary landscape. Some people read merely to distract themselves from the real world, and that's fine and good, but that's not me. I want stories that escape the real world in order to better illuminate its deepest truths. I want dragon-slayers who teach me the most important things about living here and now. I want to be in awe of fantastical alien worlds so that I might regain my childlike wonder at Earth and the starry sky and remember what they might suggest. I want to write these things. I want to read them.

This leads me to an honest question for anyone willing to read this far: where are these types of stories today? I know Tolkien was a one-of-a-kind, generational talent. I'm not asking that you point me toward the next Lord of the Rings. But where are my adventures of the same spirit? Where are the books that attempt to delve so deep? I've heard that today's SFF market is saturated. But I see a dearth of writing sharing Tolkien's vision (especially among traditionally published work). That isn't surprising given how the West has moved steadily toward a materialistic worldview over the last several decades, but it is lamentable. So I ask you: are you a fan of any modern authors aiming at the ideas Tolkien expressed in Mythopoeia? If so, please share their names with me. I'd love to discover them.

In the end, I highly recommend this poem to anyone remotely interested. Read it. Think about it. Read the opinions of people far more familiar with it than me. I've focused on big ideas, but there are many, many more lines worth dissection. It's worth your time. It can be a challenging read in places (at least it was for me), but if you find yourself getting lost, listen to someone read it on YouTube. Hearing it read aloud certainly helped me comprehend it. I'll be thinking about it for years to come.