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2020 A Theology of Incarnation as Cultural Protest: G. K. Chesterton and Christopher Dawson's Influence on J. R. R. Tolkien Jonathan Parker Durrance

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THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY

COLLEGE OF ARTS AND SCIENCES

A THEOLOGY OF INCARNATION AS CULTURAL PROTEST:

G.K. CHESTERTON AND CHRISTOPHER DAWSON’S INFLUENCE ON J. R. R.

TOLKIEN

By

JONATHAN PARKER DURRANCE

A Thesis submitted to the Department of History in partial fulfillment of the requirements for graduation with Honors in the Major

Degree Awarded:

Spring, 2020 2

The members of the Defense Committee approve the thesis of Jonathan Durrance defended on April 13, 2020.

Dr. Maximillian Scholz Thesis Director

Dr. Martin Kavka Outside Committee Member

Dr. George Williamson Committee Member

3

Introduction

“The springtime of a new culture is seen in the rise of a new mythology, which finds its

expression in the heroic saga and epic.”1

- Christopher Dawson

When Christopher Dawson penned these words in his most acclaimed work Progress and

Religion (1929), J. R. R. Tolkien was still laying the groundwork for his mythological world.

Ten years later, and after publishing his highly popular The Hobbit, Tolkien had begun fashioning his expansive mythological work, The Lord of the Rings, which was intended to fulfill

Dawson’s words. While bringing Frodo out of the Shire and into the heart of Middle Earth,

Tolkien also delivered his lecture, “On Fairy Stories.” The lecture was largely a defense of fantasy writing against its modern critics and an explanation that “fairy stories” had something crucial to offer a modern, “disenchanted” society.2 Within the lecture, Tolkien discusses mythology, religion, and the usefulness of imagination, finishing it with a confident epilogue that displays Tolkien’s belief that his Catholic faith and his fantasy writing were inextricably connected. To Tolkien, his fantasy writing was grounded in a worldview that was fundamentally opposed to those of his cultural milieu; his writing professed his hope in Christ rather than in materialism.

1 Christopher Dawson, Progress and Religion: An Historical Inquiry (Washington DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2001), 37.

2 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories ed. by Verlyn Flieger and Douglas A. Anderson (London: Harper Collins, 2014), 130. 4

Tolkien once described The Lord of the Rings as a “fundamentally religious and Catholic work,” claiming that the “religious element is absorbed into the story and the symbolism.”3 The central contention of this thesis is that the religious element suffusing Tolkien’s magnum opus is the doctrine of the Incarnation, which posits that God entered the material world through the body of Jesus of Nazareth. Importantly, a worldview grounded in this doctrine holds both the spiritual and material realities of existence together, emphasizing their union. This doctrine significantly influenced his worldview and his writing, and yet, few have noted how the

Incarnation colored his work. Furthermore, there has been little discussion on how his theology of Incarnation challenged his cultural environment.

The religious themes in Tolkien’s work have not escaped scrutiny, but while works such as Ralph Wood’s The Gospel According to Tolkien and Alison Milbank’s Chesterton and

Tolkien as Theologians highlight specific religious features and currents; they do not adequately demonstrate how Tolkien's theology protested his culture. Wood's work is all-encompassing, and he offers much in detailing the symbolism of Aragorn's coronation, but he fails to connect this to

Tolkien's broader context. In other words, he does not explain that Aragorn is an embodiment of

Tolkien’s theology in response to the events of the twentieth century. Milbank provides a lucid explanation of how Tolkien’s writing attempts to “mediate the divine” but again, she does not connect this to Tolkien’s protest against his culture.4 Others have noted Tolkien’s anti- modernism but have failed to see how his protests are theological in nature. Patrick Curry, for example, defends Tolkien against his modernist critics in Defending Middle Earth, yet, he

3 Tolkien, ed. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien ed. by Humphrey Carpenter (London: Houghton Mifflin, 200), 172.

4 Alison Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians: The Fantasy of the Real (London: T&T Clark, 2008), 168. 5 misunderstands Tolkien’s theology in the process. In regard to Christianity, Curry claims that

"given a belief in a transcendental creator, outside and above His creation, it is impossible for the earth, its places and beings to have primary and ultimate value."5 In fact, as this thesis will demonstrate, Tolkien saw his own religious beliefs as expressing the exact opposite. He believed that the Incarnation demonstrated God’s care for the material world and offered a different path than the one walked by warmongers and fascists. His theology of Incarnation was the very source of his critique on modern society.

Perhaps the clearest way to observe Tolkien’s theological criticism of his culture is to examine those who deeply impacted his theology and his worldview as a whole. Among the several quotations and references in Tolkien’s lecture “On Fairy Stories,” two names stand out among all of the others. One is the aforementioned Dawson, a historian who fused a wealth of knowledge with an undeniably Catholic perspective. The other is G.K. Chesterton, a Christian apologist who also developed his own fantastical stories. Born towards the end of the nineteenth century, these two writers were from quite different disciplines but shared a Catholic worldview and an understanding that modern society was headed down a destructive path that could only be saved by the hand of God. Both saw themselves as prophets, denouncing their cultural milieu and proclaiming a hopeful Christian orthodoxy in a society they saw as progressively losing its life and culture.6

5 Patrick Curry, Defending Middle Earth (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2004), 105.

6 Adam Schwartz, The Third Spring: G.K. Chesterton, Graham Green, Christopher Dawson, and David Jones, (Washington DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 2005), 224. Schwartz details the lives of several Catholic writers who upheld orthodox beliefs while their society was starting to divert from them, Schwartz emphasizes the crises of faith that these young men experienced, as well as how their thinking developed throughout their lives. 6

Having read Dawson’s Progress and Religion, and numerous works by Chesterton,

Tolkien was well acquainted with their world-views and saw their works as essential to his views on fantasy writing. He would have been familiar with Dawson’s adage that, “a society which has lost its religion becomes sooner or later a society which has lost its culture”,7 as well as

Chesterton’s belief that orthodoxy provided sanity in a society he believed was losing it. An examination of Tolkien’s lecture notes confirms that he felt at home with Chesterton and

Dawson and used them as a "springboard" for his understanding of religion and fantasy.8

Furthermore, if Chesterton and Dawson influenced Tolkien's understanding of mythmaking, it can be confidently deduced that this influence would appear in his other writings.

While the influence of the two writers on Tolkien has been briefly discussed in prior literature, it is puzzling that few have highlighted their influence on Tolkien’s The Lord of The Rings.

Furthermore, Dawson’s influence on The Lord of the Rings has remained undisclosed, and I intend to reveal traces of his thinking within the novel. A closer study of Chesterton and

Dawson’s thinking, acknowledged by Tolkien in “On Fairy Stories”, affirms that Tolkien’s magnum opus owes much to the Catholic writers. To understand what Tolkien was attempting with the Lord of the Rings, it is necessary to grasp Chesterton and Dawson’s own rebellion against modernity.

After detailing the ideas of Chesterton and Dawson, I will explain how their work influenced Tolkien’s magnum opus. To do so, I will use his lecture “On Fairy Stories” as a framework by which to understand Chesterton and Dawson’s influence on The Lord of the Rings.

7 Dawson, Progress and Religion, 180.

8 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 130. 7

This is necessary because Tolkien not only references their work but uses their ideas to lay out three essential ways in which he challenges modernity. First, he joins Chesterton and Dawson in their protest against materialistic worldviews, deeming materialism a precursor to destruction.

Secondly, Tolkien offers an Incarnational worldview as a replacement for a materialistic one.

The doctrine of the Incarnation was Tolkien’s compass for navigating the terrifying landscape of the twentieth century. If Jesus was God in the flesh and inhabited the material world, then the cure for such a materially devastated century was spiritual in nature. Lastly, he details how recovered vision naturally seeks to join with God in renewing the present world, while ultimately resting in the fact that true progress will be realized in Jesus’ future redemption of the cosmos.

Within these three aspects, Tolkien identifies himself with the prophetic voices of Chesterton and

Dawson, while similarly looking to the Incarnation of Jesus for his ultimate inspiration. To all three, their present historical circumstances were extremely distressing and only strengthened their belief that the Christian God was the last hope for a world that was succumbing to previously unimagined chaos.

Chesterton and Dawson’s Rebellion Against Modernity

In 1932, Chesterton opened his mail to discover a copy of Dawson’s The Making of

Europe, accompanied by a short letter. In offering thanks to Chesterton, his contemporary and interlocutor, Dawson wrote:

Years ago, when I was an undergraduate your Ballad of the White Horse first brought the breath of life to this period for me when I was fed up with Stubbs and Oman and the rest of them. Unfortunately, the boredom that is generated in people's minds by academic history leads to a positive anti-historicism which seems to me becoming characteristic of modern 'left-wing' thought. I have tried to 8

write a history that does not leave out everything that matters, in the academic fashion, and that gives a proper place to spiritual factors.9

Through this letter, Dawson desired to show how Chesterton’s work and his “historical imagination” were accompanied by his own.10 Both men, throughout their writing careers, would challenge what they deemed “left-wing” and “modern”, and by such a letter, Dawson himself implies that both writers were pursuing the same goal. Modernity, to them, was marked by a total reliance on human reason and ingenuity, and especially a worldview that saw all of life and nature through a purely materialist lens.

To both writers, providing “a proper place to spiritual factors” was essential for understanding history. In their own eyes, Chesterton and Dawson were doing something positively different within their cultural environment. As a recent biographer of Chesterton explains regarding their correspondence, they clarified “a particular point of difference between

[their] immediate predecessors and [themselves].”11 Chesterton and Dawson believed that their peers and their predecessors were accepting worldviews that would only harm society and that a return to orthodox Christian doctrines would be the only hope for a culture gone awry. As young men, their experiences would bring them face to face with a culture that was post-Christian, and it is within this context that they would garner the inspiration to become counter-cultural figures, denying the materialist ideologies of their peers in the process.

9 Christina Scott, A Historian and His World: A Life of Christopher Dawson 1889-1970 (London: Sheed & Ward, 1984), 104-105.

10 Joseph McCleary, The Historical Imagination of G.K. Chesterton: Locality, Patriotism, and Nationalism (New York: Routledge, 2009), 119. McCleary has a section devoted to Chesterton and Dawson’s similarities, and he discusses their important, albeit brief, correspondence.

11 McCleary, The Historical Imagination of G.K. Chesterton, 119. 9

Growing up in the late nineteenth century, the young Chesterton and Dawson were thrust into the modern world. Chesterton was raised in London, and from a young age observed that traditional Christianity was far from culturally dominant, or as he put it, “We might almost say that Agnosticism was an established church.”12 Even in such an environment, Chesterton remained sympathetic towards traditional Christianity, although he would not attest to such beliefs until 1908. He found beauty in scripture and held an early admiration for Francis of

Assisi: a saint whom he would later write a biography about. As one scholar notes, he was particularly drawn to the prophetic and rebellious aspects of Christianity; these characteristics would color his later writings.13

Apart from Chesterton, Dawson was raised by an Anglican father who was anti- industrialist and weary of progressive Christian sympathies. He was raised in Yorkshire and spent much of his boyhood tumbling over its hills and wading in its rivers. The landscape became an important part of his early theological underpinnings, as he expressed, “Religion… stood close to that wonderful non-human world of the river and the mountain which I found around me.”14 As his biographer comments, “religion became associated in his mind with the elemental forces of nature,” and this association leaves its mark in his adult writings.15

12 G.K. Chesterton, The Collected Works of G. K. Chesterton, vol. 16, The Autobiography of G. K. Chesterton (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1988), 188, 140; quoted in Schwartz, The Third Spring, 32.

13 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 32.

14 Dawson, Tradition and Inheritance: Reflections on the Formative Years (St. Paul, Mn: Wanderer Press, 1970), 20; quoted in Scott, A Historian and His World, 28.

15 Scott, A Historian and His World, 28. 10

After years of enjoying “solitary and secluded boyhood[s],”16 the two would experience crises of faith that challenged their innocent worldviews and pushed them to compare their childhood beliefs with opposing ideas. Chesterton, fifteen years Dawson’s elder, would experience this crisis of faith at the Slade School of Art in London during the late 1890s.

Chesterton described the college, observing that, “the tone of the whole college was modernity… change and progress come what may.”17 His experience with the pessimism about the fin-de- siècle drew him within himself, producing an acute period of utter despair for the young man.

During the period, Chesterton felt as if he was going insane. According to one recent study,

Chesterton’s likening of modernity with insanity emerged during this period of his life.18 It was only through his reading of writers such as Walt Whitman that Chesterton developed a new outlook and escaped the darkness. This new outlook can be described as general gratitude for existence, in which everything is seen as a gift. This new worldview drove Chesterton to accept and cherish the presence of everything, and with this, feel that modern culture had to be resisted.

Dawson also experienced an emotional crisis in his childhood, although it appears to have been less intense than the elder Chesterton’s. In his schooling at Bilton Grange, Dawson encountered a liberal form of Christianity; his biographer notes the he described it as "more ethics than religion, and a haze of vagueness and uncertainty hung around the more fundamental

16 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 207.

17 Michael Coren, Gilbert: The Man Who Was G.K. Chesterton (London: Jonathan Cape, 1989), 52-53; quoted in Schwartz, The Third Spring, 34.

18 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 36. 11 articles of Christian dogma."19 This vague Christianity prompted Dawson to question his boyhood faith, leading to a brief agnosticism from around 1906-1908. But after spending a summer abroad studying in Germany, Dawson began to lament what one historian called, “life in what seemed a post-Christian society.” He quickly decided that religion was needed within society, its absence resulting in a particularly dreadful ordeal.20 By the time that he enrolled at

Oxford in 1908, he had resolved his doubts and considered that religion may be the central aspect of history.21

Chesterton and Dawson’s early lives were marked by humble beginnings, but quickly became a battle against what they saw as a “post-Christian” world. Their personal experiences with a world devoid of orthodoxy left lasting scars on the young writers. Chesterton’s adult writing would especially be colored by his own experience around the turn of the century, guiding him in becoming a fierce defender of faith in opposition his culture’s insistence on reason and materialism. Ultimately, confronting their culture in a negative context prompted the young men to aim for correction. Their writing careers would be rebuttals against evolutionary, progressive, and secular thinking, with the two men finding fault in theories of pure materialism; they particularly disagreed with the thinking of Karl Marx and several Enlightenment thinkers.

19 Christopher Dawson, “Why I Am Catholic,” Catholic Times, 21 May 1926; quoted in Scott, A Historian and His World, 37.

20 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 212.

21 Scott, A Historian and His World, 49. 12

Chesterton’s Incarnational Method

After several years of searching for definitive religious truth, Chesterton believed that he had arrived at it by accepting Christian orthodoxy. At this point in his life, “orthodoxy” meant

Anglicanism, although he would later convert to Roman Catholicism. At any rate, he believed that his beliefs were “orthodox” in that he refused to bow to the progressive Christianity that he experienced as a child and preserved the doctrines of the Incarnation and Original sin in his writings. After receiving criticism for not defining his personal beliefs in Heretics (1905),

Chesterton details his Christian beliefs in his 1908 confession Orthodoxy, creating a work of

Christian apologetics in the process.22 In Orthodoxy, Chesterton sets his discovery of Christian truth against the current of modern thought, particularly finding truth in the doctrine of the

Incarnation, which challenged materialistic worldviews.

Chesterton, in this confessional account of his conversion, likens purely rational worldviews with insanity, claiming that, “Imagination does not breed insanity. Exactly what does breed insanity is reason.” For Chesterton, a focus on reason was limiting, while the fantastical and the spiritual offered a broad, all-encompassing way of seeing the world. Furthermore, he explains that materialists are not allowed “the slightest speck of spiritualism or miracle”, which in turn, limits their world to only what can be observed, ultimately lowering humanity’s capacity for life.23

In the chapter aptly titled "The Ethics of Elfland", Chesterton foreshadows Tolkien's advocacy for fairy tales, deeming them competent teachers that provide more life and wisdom

22 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 59.

23 Chesterton, The Three Apologies of G.K. Chesterton (Columbia, SC: Mockingbird Press, 2018), 137, 143. 13 than any rationalist could dream of. In regard to nature, Chesterton claims that fairy tales capture the personality and purpose of nature, in contrast to the modern world’s “scientific fatalism.”

Instead of viewing nature and humanity “as only part of [the world’s] machinery”, Chesterton found a personality within nature. Instead of feeling isolated within the modern world,

Chesterton came to see life akin to a fairy tale. He conveys, “if there is a story, there is a story teller.”24 To Chesterton, fairy tales reveal the truth that there is something more behind the world. The material world is more than what meets the eye, and there is a spiritual force behind its workings. In this way, fairy tales or fantasy writing becomes an outlet for theological protest.

Fantasy seeks to engage the reader with forces outside themselves, to consider that there is more than what meets the eye. Thus, Chesterton is not only identifying what is wrong with materialist thinking but also providing a solution to the problem: a new way of seeing.

For Chesterton, the personality that was behind nature was the Christian God; the

Incarnation of God was essential to his worldview. The doctrine validated Chesterton’s feelings about fairy tales; that the world was personable and had a spiritual force behind it. Furthermore,

Chesterton believed that the Incarnation distinguished Christianity from other religions, in the idea that God became a man and experienced the darkness of the world with all of humanity.25

He believed that the rational world had lost this understanding of God becoming man.26 By not adhering to the doctrine, Chesterton believed that modern society would not fully appreciate the material world because it was not in touch with its spiritual significance. As Schwartz explains,

24 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 168, 170-171.

25 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 230.

26 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 231. 14

Chesterton found the Incarnation to uphold both the spiritual and the material, guarding against extremes on either side.27

Chesterton found the notion of human progress especially dangerous and attacked it for lacking a spiritual dimension. Chesterton asserts that "we must be fond of another world (real or imaginary) in order to have something to change it to." Since humanity had lost its vision of heaven, it would just progress the world towards "whatever it was that [it] happen[ed] to want.”

Thus, a religion of progress may lead to immense scientific discovery and industrial advancement, but it will ultimately create a false sense of security.28 Chesterton later prophesies,

“As long as the vision of heaven is always changing, the vision of earth will be exactly the same.”29 To Chesterton, this constant change was the marker of modern society; humans were developing new political theories (Communism, Collectivism, etc.) and worldviews, but with little success. Chesterton claims that, without the guiding hand of God, this progress only serves the selfish desires of man, and the world does not actually move forward. As long as humanity was the guiding light for its own progress, the same issues would always remain. If only humanity would fully recognize the spiritual reality behind the material world, would it be free from threats of war, industrial pollution, or what Dawson deems, “the rawness and ugliness of modern European life.”30

27 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 63.

28 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 205.

29 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 207.

30 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 61. 15

Chesterton’s desire for the material world to be fully appreciated as it is, and not corrupted by humanity’s desire for control, is present not only in his apologetic writings but in his fairy tales as well. The most notable of these, and much appreciated by Tolkien, was “The

Coloured Lands” written in 1912, but not published until 1938. In the short story, a young boy named Tommy sits alone and bored at his cottage, among the rolling hills set beneath the blue country-side sky. A stranger happens upon the property and tells Tommy how he once felt bored with this normal world as well, and by the friendship of a wizard, he was able to look at different worlds of uniform, vibrant colors. After being introduced to various worlds, thriving with blue, green and red, the man feels wholly unsatisfied. The wizard then proclaims, “you don’t seem very easy to please. If you can’t put up with any of these countries, or any of these colours, you shall jolly well make a world of your own.”31 At the behest of the wizard’s command, the man creates his own world, splashed with all of the blues, reds, greens, and yellows he observed in the coloured worlds, only to discover that the world he creates is the same as the countryside that he was so tired of. After finishing this tale, the stranger hops over the fence, while Tommy stares

“at the cottage with a new look in his eyes.”32

The new look in young Tommy's eyes was one of awe and wonder, at realizing that his whole mundane world was actually quite enchanted. Chesterton, in seeing the material world as more than it appears, tries to make the world seem distant and strange, only to awaken in the reader a new sense of wonder for the world around them. Milbank uses Victor Shklovsky’s “Art as Technique” to analyze Chesterton’s short stories; she deems Chesterton’s defamiliarization of

31 Chesterton, “The Coloured Lands” in The Coloured Lands (Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2009), 29.

32 Chesterton, “The Coloured Lands”, 30. 16 objects as “making strange.” Through this, Chesterton illuminates the absurd beauty of the familiar, in order to “empower the object.” This empowerment of the world around makes the reader see the world “as something coming to us which is a mystery in its… difference from ourselves.”33 Thus, Chesterton’s technique has two effects. First, it ascribes more value to the material world, as the reader is given a new sense of awe towards nature. Secondly, it moves the reader to consider that there is an “other” beyond themselves, thus making the technique, as

Milbank contends, “a theological tool for opening human eyes to see the reality of God and the reality, albeit contingent, of the world beyond the self.”34 Chesterton’s own “fairy stories” reveal his purpose to draw new appreciation and care for the natural world and consider the possibility that there is a God who desires to impart transcendence on his creation.

Christopher Dawson and the Fusion of Two Realities

While Chesterton penned the words to his acclaimed Orthodoxy, Dawson was beginning to reconcile his doubts with the religion of his childhood. By the time he enrolled at Oxford in

1908, Dawson had returned to Anglicanism. In 1909 he traveled to Rome and was enthusiastic about his stay in the ancient city. Dawson’s biographer explained that the young man felt Rome was “less spoiled by modernization than he had expected.”35 While touring there, the Baroque art of the counter-reformation captivated the young man. This material expression of spiritual significance was important to Dawson, as it joined two realities— one spiritual and one

33 Alison Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians: The Fantasy of the Real (London: T&T Clark, 2008), 37.

34 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 33, xiv.

35 Scott, A Historian and His World, 33. 17 material—together.36 Although his conversion to Roman Catholicism would come years later,

Dawson’s trip to Rome planted the seeds for his conversion and his later scholarly works. Most importantly, it led him to consider the marriage of two different realities.

Dawson’s earlier works can be understood in his focus on spirituality and materiality. As his biographer explains, Dawson in one of his first publications titled “The Nature and Destiny of

Man”, perceived humanity as “a bridge between the spiritual and the material worlds”; the fusion of two realities. Dawson asserts that throughout history, man has failed to grasp the interlocking nature of spirituality and materiality, glorifying one in neglect of the other.37 Dawson felt as though modern society was accepting a purely materialistic worldview, derived from the works of Darwin and later nineteenth century rationalists. Dawson saw Christianity and its doctrine of the Incarnation as the only place where spirit and matter were married through God’s loving purposes.

In Progress & Religion (1929), Dawson carefully explores the supposed dichotomy between spirituality and materiality, studying a multitude of anthropologists and philosophers whom he sees as missing the mark on humanity’s spiritual nature. Throughout the first few chapters, Dawson argues that true “progress” is found not in scientific or technological dimensions, but religious life. Arguing against the likes of evolutionary anthropologists James

Frazer and E.B. Tylor, Dawson believes that religion is not secondary in society, but the driving force of a civilization’s culture.38 In contrast to a dualistic European society that pits spirituality

36 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 214.

37 Scott, A Historian and His World, 71.

38 Dawson, Progress and Religion, 70. 18 and materiality against each other, Dawson holds “primitive man” in high esteem; he praises the fact that, “the material and spiritual aspects of his culture are inextricably intermingled…that the religious factor intervenes at every moment of his existence.”39

Conversely, Dawson believes that modern society has lost this unity. In tracing modern society’s neglect of spiritual and material unity, Dawson conveys:

From the 17th century onwards the modern scientific movement has been based on the mechanistic view of nature which regards the world as a closed material order moved by purely mechanical and mathematical laws. All the aspects of reality which could not be reduced… were treated as mere subjective impressions of the human mind.40

Rather than honoring the fairytale wonder of everyday life and existence that Chesterton adored, the modern scientific mind reduced these down to mechanizations. Within such a materialistic view of the world, there was no room for the supernatural, and therefore, no room for the

Christian religion. Without Christianity and its acknowledgment of a spiritual dimension that guided material existence, Dawson believed Europe, “no longer has any contact with the soil or the instinctive life of nature.”41

Thus, Dawson believed that, within its current consciousness, all that Europe would discover was suffering and pain. Without a society infused with the Christian religion, scientific progress “becomes a neutral force which lends itself to the service of militarism and economic exploitation as readily as to the service of humanity.” His perspective is understandable, as

Dawson was writing ten years after the Great War, with fresh memories of a generation lost in a

39 Dawson, Progress and Religion, 82.

40 Dawson, Progress and Religion, 170.

41 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 165 19 war that showcased new killing machines. To him, “material control of the forces of nature” is ultimately fulfilled in finding “more elaborate methods of killing people.” The Great War confirmed his belief that “a mechanistic universe” ultimately led to “eternal death.”42 In his eyes, a worldview that does not uphold the spiritual side of reality naturally succumbs to corruption, begetting the destruction of society. It allows humanity to trust only in itself, gaining more control over the material world, alienating and destroying itself in the process.

In rebellion against materialism and trust in human advancement, Dawson argues that the

Christian faith, and especially the Doctrine of the Incarnation, is important in recovering true human progress. To Dawson, Jesus initiates a “Kingdom of God…which would renew heaven and earth.”43 According to Dawson, Jesus brings the divine life into the natural world, identifying himself with the very creatures he brought into being, and elevating the identity of the created world as more than just matter to be controlled. Dawson describes Jesus as the union between “the lower world of matter and sense… and the divine life.” He believed that Jesus’ example challenged those who through a cult of science would seek only to control nature and those who in response to the horror of the century, would seek to escape it. Furthermore, the

Incarnation restores true eschatological hope, not in humanity and its technological advancements, but in Jesus who can truly bring progress on earth. Dawson defends his belief that only Jesus can ultimately redeem the world; “it is through him and in him that the material

42 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 191, 17, 173.

43 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 124 20 creation attains to intelligibility and becomes enlightened and spiritualized.”44 Without Jesus in the mix, Dawson believes that human progress is merely sinking sand.

He instead finds hope in an Incarnational world view, believing that it can renew the mind of humanity and change its course of action within the world. It is “within historic

Christianity” that Dawson sees “not an abstract intellectualized progress”, but an affirmation of spiritual values and realities within “definite historical circumstances.”45 Using St. Francis as his scholastic example, Dawson affirms that an Incarnational worldview brings true progress as it rejects control and inspires correct treatment of the natural world. He states:

The ideal of St. Francis is to live the life of Christ in the experience of daily life. There is no longer any separation between faith and life, or between the spiritual and the material, since the two worlds have become fused together in the living reality of practical experience…It brings man back to the fellowship of God’s creation which had been lost or vitiated by self-will.46

Chesterton would agree with such a statement, publishing his own laudatory biography of St

Francis in 1924. He too highlighted Francis’s attempt to be a mirror of Christ’s humility within the world.47

According to the two thinkers, St. Francis demonstrated that, with the Incarnation in mind, humans could value the material world as Jesus did, seeking to build it up rather than tearing it down through a lust for control. Chesterton and Dawson both found that their culture was increasingly post-Christian, finding its hope in scientific determinism and a religion of

44 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 124, 138.

45 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 189.

46 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 135.

47 G.K. Chesterton, St. Francis (New York: Start Publishing, 2013), 3. 21 progress. Rather than holding matter and spirit in unity, European society was neglecting the spiritual dimension. While Chesterton found fantasy as an appropriate outlet in the wake of such a worldview, Dawson challenged his culture through rigorous historical, anthropological, and sociological studies. Both writers, inspired by the doctrine of the Incarnation, believed that matter and spirit must be held together. To them, Europe was creating a destructive future with its materialistic consciousness and needed to accept an Incarnational worldview instead. Their counter-modernism would inspire the mind of J. R. R. Tolkien, leading to the creation of a “new mythology” that inspires millions to this day.

On Fairy Stories

While we can recognize Tolkien’s brilliance, his debt to Chesterton and Dawson must be acknowledged. Tolkien quotes from and references both Chesterton and Dawson in his lecture

“On Fairy Stories”, using their thoughts to develop his understanding of fantasy and its interaction with Christianity. The lecture is, in essence, a testimony to Catholic counter- modernism through the means of fantasy. One historian observes that Christian fantasists such as

Chesterton, Barfield, and Tolkien were "addressing… the desacralization implied by twentieth- century views of history, anthropology, and culture." Furthermore, he agrees that the Incarnation was the rock upon which Tolkien's fantasy was built. Tolkien stood in solidarity with Chesterton and Dawson, as his references to the writers confirm.48 Therefore, the lecture illuminates how they influenced Tolkien and his perspective on writing fantasy, thus providing a helpful framework by which to read The Lord of the Rings.

48 Philip I. Mitchell, “Legend and History Have Met and Fused: The Interlocution of Anthropology, Historiography, and Incarnation in J.R.R. Tolkien’s “On Fairy-stories”, Tolkien Studies, Volume 8, 2011, 1. 22

In discussing the influence of Chesterton and Dawson on Tolkien’s The Lord of the

Rings, it is important to acknowledge the work that others have done in this respect. Concerning

"On Fairy Stories”, Philip Mitchel skillfully analyzed Tolkien’s references of the authors.49 The lecture is also publicized in book form with Verlyn Flieger and Douglas Anderson's commentary, which further explains why Tolkien referenced Chesterton and Dawson.

Unfortunately; however, scholars have focused primarily on this lecture when tracing Chesterton and Dawson’s influence on Tolkien, leaving The Lord of the Rings largely unconsidered. While

Alison Milbank has sufficiently detailed Chesterton’s influence on the novel, Dawson's influence has remained undisclosed. J. S. Ryan, in a collection of essays centered on Tolkien's academic life, confesses that despite their similarities and Tolkien's "acknowledged debt" to Dawson, the relation between the two, "has remained neglected for almost 70 years."50 Thus, recovering the influence of Chesterton and especially Dawson is essential in understanding Tolkien’s worldview and foundation for The Lord of the Rings.

Using their thinking as his steppingstone, Tolkien developed his method of responding to modernity, which works on three levels. The first is a denial of materialism and the human quest for control over nature. Tolkien agrees with Chesterton and Dawson that rationalist, materialist thinking, when fully followed, leads to corruption. When corrupted, this sort of thinking seeks to gain only control, forgetting progressive ideals in the process. I will hereby refer to this corrupted materialist worldview as “scientism.” Tolkien’s protest leads to recovering insight or

“gaining a clear view” of the world. This is, essentially, the acceptance of an Incarnational

49 Mitchell, “Legend and History Have Met and Fused,” 2-3.

50 J.S. Ryan, Tolkien’s View: Windows into His World (New York: Walking Tree Publishers, 2009), 151. 23 worldview; the discovery of a new way of seeing which leads to a new way of being. This new way of being seeks not to control or have dominion over nature or humanity, but to acknowledge the spiritual significance of the material world, treating it differently by doing so. Lastly, Tolkien puts his trust in Christ for human progress; Jesus’ “Kingdom of God” proves for him an influential image in seeking humility and healing in this life, while looking forward to future restoration. Chesterton and Dawson’s influence on Tolkien’s response to modern society will be identified in “On Fairy Stories” and the lecture will provide a framework for discovering their influence on The Lord of the Rings.

Rejecting Scientism

Central to "On Fairy Stories" and evident in The Lord of the Rings, is a denial of scientism. Tolkien, with the help of Chesterton and Dawson’s ideas, joins them in denying a materialistic or evolutionary way of seeing the world. To Chesterton, Dawson, and Tolkien, humanity was unique, and its creativity was a "testimony to the transcendent."51 Not only did scientific materialism reduce human nature down to mechanization, but it also devalued the natural world that “God so loved.”52

Tolkien agrees with his fellow Catholics, finding modern European society profoundly lifeless. Despite the many scientific and technological advancements, he agrees with Dawson that Europe is, “out of touch with the life of nature and human nature as well.”53 Tolkien shares

51 Mitchell, “Legend and History Have Met and Fused”, 2.

52 John 3:16, English Standard Version, 2015.

53 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 24

Dawson’s belief that materialism tends to be the force that sucks the life out of society. Tolkien quotes Dawson in identifying the lifelessness of European society, “The rawness and ugliness of modern European life… is the sign… of an insufficient or false reaction to environment.”54 To

Tolkien, modern, urban, industrialized life was much less beautiful than a fairy tale, even if rationalistic minds brought significant goodness to European culture. Furthermore, he agrees with Dawson that holding a materialistic view of the world and worshipping scientific advancement leads directly to, “machine guns and bombs”, those developments that “appear to be [the] most natural, and inevitable, dare we say, inexorable products” of human progress.55 Just as Chesterton and Dawson expressed in their own words, Tolkien believed that the modern age was one of “improved means to deteriorated ends.”56 Tolkien's protest of scientism is clearest in

The Lord of the Rings.

The meta-narrative of The Lord of the Rings concerns the triumph of good over evil and the courage needed in encountering it, especially when it seems hopeless to oppose. The greatest evil in The Lord of the Rings, the looming antagonist of the story, and indeed the titular character is Sauron, the dark lord who fashioned all of the rings in “the fires of mount doom”, who also held the “One Ring” that could control all of the others.57 The whole of The Lord of the Rings is the quest to defeat Sauron by destroying the One Ring which holds his power. While Sauron could

54 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 65.

55 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 71.

56 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 72.

57 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (London: HarperCollins, 2004), 61. 25 easily be seen as Satan within the story’s narrative, Tolkien did not make such a comparison.58

Previous scholars such as Tom Shippey have noted that Sauron and his Ringwraiths are partly a meditation on evil as an active force. Sauron and his wraiths invite others, who may have good intentions, to lose their humanity in their thirst for power.59 However, even Shippey neglects to see that Sauron himself is a reflection on the notion of human progress. In a letter to Milton

Waldman, Tolkien explains that Sauron was originally a servant of the first Dark Lord Morgoth and that after Morgoth's destruction, he was punished to "linger Middle-earth." He admits that

Sauron initially began, with good intentions, “the reorganization and rehabilitation of the ruin of

Middle-earth” becoming a “reincarnation of evil, and a thing lusting for Complete Power”.60

Interestingly, Sauron began to reorder Middle-earth with “fair motives.” These fair motives, however, gradually resulted in an indefatigable lust for power that would bring destruction rather than edification. Sauron’s fair motives, hijacked by the “material control of the forces of nature”, led to incredible oppression for the inhabitants of Middle-earth.61 Here,

Chesterton’s protest against a religion of progress is seen. Tolkien, in his characterization of

Sauron, agrees with Chesterton that humans (or even angelic beings) will make the world into

“whatever it [is] that [they] happen to want.”62 Once they obtain great power, all that they make will be of service to increase that power.

58 Tolkien, Letters, 190. Here Tolkien explains that Sauron was not the first Dark Lord.

59 Shippey, Author of the Century, 122-125.

60 Tolkien, Letters, 151.

61 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 17.

62 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 205. 26

Tolkien’s description of the Dark Lord also reflects Dawson’s attack on the notion of human progress. Although Sauron may have begun with good intentions, his desire for progress in Middle-earth became a “force which [lent] itself to the service of militarism and economic exploitation”, rather than a pursuit of justice and peace.63 Sauron’s desire for reorganization naturally led to war. The whole of Sauron’s destructive force in The Lord of the Rings can be read with Dawson in mind, as he looked back on the First World War and deemed modern warfare as an inevitability of human progress. Tolkien, having fought in the war and encountered the technological feats developed in it, likewise determines that war is an inexorable product of human progress. Sauron’s technological achievements were put on display in the siege of Minas Tirith; his “great engines crawled across the field.”64 Moreover, Tolkien was writing much of The Lord of the Rings during the Second World War, which was setting Europe ablaze with even more deadly weapons than he had witnessed in the Great War.

Thus, Tolkien’s depiction of Sauron, admittedly a depiction of complete evil, is also an image of what he believes happens when humans trust in themselves for their own progress.

Sauron, powerful and at first seeking to rebuild a world “neglected by the gods”, naturally succumbs to the temptation of power, and destroys the very life which he intended to create.65

Furthermore, he is the titular character of the novel, making The Lord of the Rings, as a whole, a commentary on the very present evil of the twentieth century. Evil is not simply theoretical but materially represented in the thirst for power that Tolkien witnessed throughout his life. Evil, for

63 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 191.

64 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 828.

65 Tolkien, Letters, 151. 27

Tolkien, was the desire to control and contort nature to humanity's dark will, denying the significance of a natural world created by God.

Tolkien’s protest of scientism is present in other characters in The Lord of the Rings as well. Saruman, the White Wizard who was once the leader of a council of powerful noble people in Middle-earth, is another victim of power’s corrupting voice. Gandalf, the helpful wizard who aids both Bilbo and Frodo Baggins in their respective quests, regards Saruman as, “the greatest of my order.”66 Unfortunately, Saruman would be corrupted by Sauron, and oppose Gandalf and the others in their journeying to destroy the One Ring. Tolkien’s characterization of Saruman, while also a critique of scientism and the notion of human progress, is set apart from his description of

Sauron. Sauron’s presence is ominous, while Saruman’s is much more personal. Interestingly; however, their names are quite similar, and many readers confuse the two characters. There is possibly some intention behind this, as their pronunciation begins and ends in the same manner, just as they both begin with good intentions and end in corruption. If Sauron’s characterization is a denial of progressive thinking, Saruman’s is an attempt to detail the process of its demoralization.

Gandalf explains in “The Council of Elrond” that he had initially sought aid from Saruman when he discovered that Sauron’s shadow was spreading over Middle-earth. When he discovered instead that Saruman had allied with the Dark Lord, he was greatly disturbed. Eyeing Gandalf’s negative response to this revelation, Saruman attempts to gain his old friend’s trust, explaining that they, “must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see.”67 Of course, the wise men of the world know what is best for it, and their intentions are

66 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 257.

67 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 259. 28 admirable. He confesses; however, that the only way for wise men such as themselves to change the world for good is to temporarily submit to the growing power that hails from Mordor. Saruman explains:

There is hope that way…We can bide our time…deploring maybe what evils are done by the way, but approving the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends.68

Just how did Saruman, the leader of a good and moral council within Middle-earth succumb to Sauron’s dark power? First, he possessed a faulty way of seeing the world. Tolkien, like

Chesterton and Dawson, believes this to be a purely rationalistic and materialistic way of seeing.

Saruman is described as having, “a mind of metal and wheels” and for “not [caring] for growing things, except as far as they serve him for the moment.”69 Saruman’s “mind of metal and wheels” is Tolkien’s way of joining Chesterton and Dawson in confronting a mechanistic perception of nature. Tolkien believed that there was a personality behind nature, that the world was more alive than our eyes could understand. In contrast, Saruman views nature and humanity as “only part of

[the world’s] machinery.”70

This worldview then leads to the second part of the process of corruption, which is a

“temporary” acceptance of evils for the sake of the ideal. While asking Gandalf to join him and the Dark Lord Sauron, Saruman excuses violent and destructive means of achieving his ultimate goal. As Shippey conveys, “In the pursuit of control, Saruman is prepared to cooperate with forces he knows perfectly well are evil, but which he thinks he can use for his much more admirable

68 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 259.

69 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 473.

70 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 170. 29 purposes.”71 Saruman also scoffs that he and Gandalf have been, “hindered rather than helped by our weak and idle friends.”72 Rather than caring for the meek and lowly Hobbits as Gandalf and

Aragorn are accustomed to doing, Saruman sees them only as obstacles. He cares little now for who stands in his way, so long as he can reach his noble end. Here, Tolkien is warning that acceptance of evil means will naturally follow a mechanistic worldview. If there is nothing more than mere matter, if there are only gears moving behind the life of nature, than the destruction of nature is less of a crime and permissible as long as it serves a greater purpose.

Saruman, having joined the forces of darkness, has now readily begotten destruction. This is the final stage in the corrosion of human progress. The clearest consequence of his faulty worldview is the annihilation of the natural world, specifically, the forests surrounding his fortress at Isengard. After the Ents (shepherds of the trees) have rebelled against Saruman’s foul endeavors, a riding party led by Gandalf, Aragorn, and several others travel through Isengard, witnessing the consequence of Saruman’s corruption. Riding through the once green plain, they see instead “a wilderness of weeds and thorns” and “the burned and axe-hewn stumps of ancient groves.”73 Once at Isengard, the riding party sees the physical manifestation of Saruman’s “mind of metal and wheels.” Tolkien details the landscape:

Isengard looked like a graveyard of unquiet dead. For the ground trembled. The shafts ran down by many slopes and spiral stairs to caverns far under; there Saruman had treasuries, store-houses, armouries, smithies, and great furnaces. Iron wheels revolved there endlessly, and hammers thudded. At night plumes of vapour steamed from the vents…74

71 Tom Shippey, J.R.R. Tolkien: Author of the Century (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2002), 126.

72 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 259.

73 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 553.

74 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 554-555. 30

The scene details the effect of Saruman’s worldview. He is consumed with what Dawson calls the

“material control [over] the forces of nature”; he inevitably neglects the life therein, rendering the natural world useful so long as it helps him achieve his noble end.75 Instead of celebrating the world and using his power to build it up, he destroys it with his scientific and technological advancements. While his industrial capacity (save Sauron’s) was unmatched in Middle-earth, it was used only in the end to steady the tide of war.

The name Isengard is quite important in and of itself. It should be noted that Isengard has a German derivation and Tolkien, having devoted “most of his life…studying Germanic matters,” would have purposefully done this.76 “Eisen” is German for Iron, and Tolkien thus made Isengard the “Iron Guard” or “Iron Fortress.”77 Tolkien likely chose this name as a reference for Germany’s war machine in the Great War and the ensuing Second World War. The German war machine that

Tolkien witnessed throughout his life was a real-world manifestation of Sarumanism. The marred landscape of the Somme, the countless lives lost in back to back wars; these only confirmed suspicions that progress results in finding, as Dawson explains, “more elaborate methods of killing people.”78

Thus, Tolkien bemoans Saruman’s actions; the White Wizard’s contempt for trees most reveals the horror of his corruption. Because Tolkien believes there is a personality behind nature,

75 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 17.

76 Tolkien, Letters, 55.

77 “Iron: Origin and Meaning,” Online Etymology Dictionary, Douglas Harper, 2020, https://www.etymonline.com/word/iron

78 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 17. 31 he gives nature a personality in his mythology. Rather than being normal trees, Tolkien’s trees are characteristically different as they obtain unique personalities. Treebeard’s description of

Saruman’s destruction is telling. He grieves:

Many of those trees were my friends, creatures I had known from nut and acorn; many had voices of their own that are lost forever now. And there are wastes of stump and bramble where once there were singing groves.79

Saruman was not just felling trees but killing “singing groves” of Treebeard’s “friends.” He was not simply altering material reality to achieve his goals, but destroying personalities in the wake of his noble cause.

Therefore, Saruman’s treatment of the natural world is damning because it fails to recognize the personality behind it. He fails to see the material existence as being valued and embodiment by the divine. Saruman’s representation in the real world is all too prevalent for

Tolkien, as he grew up witnessing the increased industrialization of his society that disregarded its effect on the environment. Furthermore, Treebeard’s lament over felled trees reflects the despair of the World Wars as "many had voices of their own that are lost forever now."80 While it may seem extreme for Tolkien to liken the noble desire for human progress as inevitably ending in corruption, it is understandable for one living through the twentieth-century. He is not damning society’s desire to change the world for the better, but rather the worldview from which it has sought to enact that change. As it appears to Tolkien, a mechanistic view of nature and human nature will inevitably lead to actions that treat them as such. Although the end goal may be benevolent, if a worldview is faulty then the result will still be corruption.

79 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 474.

80 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 474. 32

With two world wars having fully treated humans beings as just another cog in the machine,

Tolkien could agree with Dawson that “the optimistic assumptions of the last two centuries concerning the future of our modern civilization [have lost] their validity.”81 For Chesterton,

Dawson, and Tolkien, a rational, materialistic worldview ultimately affirms that, “man himself [is] nothing but a byproduct of the vast mechanical order” which “it has revealed.”82 Thus, their diagnosis for the twentieth century’s adverse conditions is plain, but what worldview do they prescribe in lieu of a rationalistic, scientific worldview? Simply stated, they believe that society needs to recover a new way of seeing, or perhaps, to see things as they have always been. Rather than viewing the material world as a biological machine, the world must be understood for its spiritual significance as well. Through his fantasy as a whole and specifically the characters and events within The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien embodies the action that Chesterton and Dawson pleaded for, as he attempts to give the reader new eyes through which to see the world.

Recovering an Incarnational View of the World

Tolkien’s ultimate task is to recover a correct vision of the world, and he conveys as such in “On Fairy Stories.” In light of the events of the twentieth century, Tolkien bluntly states that,

“we need recovery.”83 He believed, in the same manner as Chesterton, that modern society had lost its sense of wonder and awe. Dawson similarly believed that Europe needed to merge the spiritual and material realities of the world, and then it would “restore its lost contacts with the

81 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 60.

82 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 146.

83 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 83. 33 life of nature.”84 Similarly, Tolkien believes that Fantasy has a unique ability within society, especially in allowing it to “[regain] a clear view” of the world.”85 Rather than seeing the world as pure mechanism, which Chesterton and Dawson detested, fairy stories allow the reader to obtain new eyes and acknowledge with awe that there is something more than the material reality. For Tolkien, Fantasy can point to something greater than oneself, forcing the reader to consider that there might be a spiritual significance to the material reality. Alison Milbank is helpful in this section, as she highlights Tolkien’s method and provides an excellent discussion concerning The Lord of the Rings.

Tolkien applauds what he labels as “Chestertonian Fantasy.”86 As was previously discussed, Chesterton’s attempt to “make strange” instills a sense of wonder in the reader by defamiliarizing the object.87 While the object is still the same, the reader is left with a new appreciation of it and an awareness that there is something more behind it. While Tolkien lauds this technique, he believes it to be limiting in its scope. As Milbank contends, “For Tolkien,

Chesterton does not take them far enough away from our appropriation.” She explains that

Tolkien intends to go farther than Chesterton, providing, “an opening up of the hoard and letting the locked things fly away.”88 Tolkien notes that within his mythological world, he “deal[s]

84 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 62.

85 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 83.

86 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 68.

87 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 36.

88 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 39. 34 largely with simple or fundamental things… made all the more luminous by their setting.”89

Although the world itself is strange and distant, it is full of familiar objects and virtues. Thus, as

Milbank notes, Tolkien does attempt to make objects and virtues strange in the Lord of the Rings, but they are done so by being placed in a separate reality, where it is easier to see the things as they are.

Tolkien’s own making strange is again, an attempt to regain a correct way of seeing the world. As with Chesterton and Dawson, this way of seeing is representative of his Catholic,

Incarnational worldview. If God chose to dwell in the physical body of Jesus, then he displays his care and desire for the natural world. If spirit and matter meet in Christ, then surely that must mean that each reality is of equal significance. Throughout The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien protests against a mechanistic worldview and vies for a worldview that upholds the spiritual and the material. His attempt in the novel is three-fold. First, he presents the natural world as possessing an inherent personality. Secondly, he uses the Hobbits to promote accepting life as a gift. Lastly, he uses Gandalf as a symbol for Christ’s resurrection; a display of an Incarnational worldview in opposition to Saruman’s rationalistic one. In all of these, Tolkien counters

Saruman's mechanistic view of life and nature, asking the reader to consider an Incarnational, or at the very least, fantastical view instead. He furthers the ideas of Chesterton and Dawson before him, incorporating their focus of reconciling matter and spirit.

As Dawson stated regarding “primitive” religion, Tolkien’s Middle-earth is “a living world of mysterious forces.”90 It is full of strange creatures, trees that whisper and wail, and

89 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 68-69.

90 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 69. 35 beings such as the Ents that shepherd the created world. In returning to the Ents, we see a plain example of Tolkien’s attempt to “let the locked things fly away.”91 As the Hobbits Merry and

Pippin anxiously pass through Fangorn in their escape from Orcs, they come face to face with the legendary creature that they had scarcely heard about in songs and tales. As they meet

Treebeard for the first time, they are perplexed by his appearance. He is described as, “a large

Man-like, almost troll like, figure, at least fourteen foot high… Whether it was clad in stuff like green and grey bark, or whether that was its hide, was difficult to say.”92 Within this description, there is some confusion as to what the Ent actually is. It is not a tree, but a person; however, its appearance is strikingly similar to that of a normal tree.

The Ents are not alone in this depiction; however, as Middle-earth is alive with mountains that have voices and rivers that sing. One thinks of the mountain Caradhras, which

"defeats" the Fellowship as it tries to journey through the mountain’s pass or Gimli's insistence that he hears the "night-speech of plant and stone" while putting his ear to the ground outside of

Lothlorien.93 Within Lothlorien, Frodo seems to hear the river Nimrodel singing a sweet song.94

Middle-earth’s whole natural world is screaming for recognition, pleading to be recognized as having the mark of enchantment. After encountering his mythological world, trees are no longer just trees, and rivers are no longer just collections of rushing water. Tolkien, as with Chesterton, is begging the reader to acknowledge that there is something more behind what they see; that

91 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 68.

92 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 463.

93 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 294, 337.

94 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 339. 36 there is in fact, spirit woven into the fabric of the material world. For them, humans should not treat nature as a biological mechanism. Rather than align with Saruman’s worldview, humans should see the world around them as vibrant and personable.

Enchantment in The Lord of the Rings has a profoundly theological nature. While studying this aspect of Tolkien’s legendarium, Milbank contends that its, “whole material cosmos is infused with a kind of enchantment, as if it had radiance: a ‘lumen.” 95 Just as the elves have faces of light, and their trees radiate, all of the material existence is enchanted. In this way,

Tolkien's world is a testament to the joy of God woven in nature, asking the reader to join in singing as "the mountains and hills burst into song… and all of the trees of the field clap their hands."96 In these depictions of nature in Middle-earth, the reader is confronted with a highly personal and fluid world that is far from mechanistic. At least in that realm, they are required to admit that there is a personality to it.

His attempt to give new eyes to the reader, however, does not stop with his depiction of the natural world. He also extends this sense of recovery by providing characters who showcase their own transcendent vision. Just as Saruman represents the degradation of a materialistic worldview, other characters reflect the benefit of possessing an Incarnational one. From Gandalf to the lowly Hobbits, many of Tolkien’s finest and honorific characters are in tune with the wonder of the world. Of these characters, the Hobbits are of chief concern. Tolkien himself admitted that The Lord of the Rings is “hobbito-centric.”97 They are, as it were, the most

95 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 42.

96English Standard Version, Isaiah 55:12

97 Tolkien, Letters, 237. 37 anachronistic beings in Middle-earth. As Milbank contends, Hobbits “share so many mid- twentieth century characteristics: their love of gardening, fish and chips and pipeweed” and in that way, we identify with them.98 They are, however, quite distinct from human beings as they are short and hairy, and they dwell in holes in the hills. Their difference from ourselves allows for their character traits and virtues to shine forth.

The Hobbits are heroes within the story, and never cease to impress even the most powerful characters. The praise they receive, however, is not because of power or might, but because of their humble appreciation for life. They are a nice contrast from the powerful

Saruman, as they are in Tolkien’s words, “simple” or “common.”99 This simplicity is praiseworthy, for they see the world not as a mechanism fit to unlock the potential of their idealism, but as a gift to be appreciated. Their worldview is reminiscent of Chesterton’s, in that all of life was to be accepted with gratitude as a gift that proceeded from a divine origin.100 One has only to observe Merry and Pippin’s joy over discovering a wealth of Pipeweed in Saruman’s abandoned Isengard, or the celebration of having a pint in the pub at Bree. Frodo’s arrival at

Lothlorien is especially telling. He stands among a field “lost in wonder” and surrounded by remarkable trees; “a light was upon [them] for which his language had no name.” It was, as if,

Frodo had seen these trees at their first drawing, new yet ancient. Tolkien further details Frodo’s thoughts:

98 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 40.

99 Tolkien, Letters, 220.

100 Schwartz, The Third Spring, 41. 38

He saw no colour but those he knew, gold and white and blue and green, but they were fresh and poignant, as if he had first perceived them and made for them names new and wonderful.101

Frodo rightly responds to the allure of the natural world. He sees this enchanted place, yet with colors he already knows. In the same manner as Tommy in Chesterton’s “The Coloured

Lands”, he perceives that there is eternity behind them and takes the moment only to appreciate the colors for what they are: a gift. It is in moments such as these that the Hobbits embody an awareness of the divine nature within the natural world. As Tolkien expresses in his poem

Mythopoeia, “yet trees are not trees, until so named”, but a physical expression of God’s divine nature.102 The Hobbits, among other characters, understand that trees are more than trees, and contrary to the powerful Saruman, treat it all as a gift rather than as part of a machine. Their perspective is reminiscent of Chesterton's, as he ultimately came to believe that if there was a gift, there must be a giver, and the only response could be gratitude. Tolkien uses his Hobbits, and the reader's identification with them, to promote a worldview that sees all as a gift, hoping that such wonder at the commonalities of life will instill curiosity as to their origin. He is not offering a blind machine spinning the wheels of life, but instead offering a way of seeing that recognizes all of life to be sacred and a gift from the divine.

If the Hobbits’ display a correct way of seeing the world, and thus oppose Saruman’s view, Gandalf even more directly opposes Saruman in thought and deed. While Saruman studied the ways of the Dark Lord Sauron and decided to join him for the sake of progressing his own personal ideals, Gandalf humbly rejects the offer for power. Gandalf goes as far as to even reject

101 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 350-351.

102 Tolkien, “Mythopoeia” in Tree and Leaf (London: HarperCollins, 1988). 39 taking the One Ring when Frodo offers it to him in the Shire, admitting that “the wish to yield it would be too great” and would certainly make him “like the Dark Lord himself.”103 Gandalf knows that the desire to mold nature to one’s will inevitably ends in destruction. He instead chooses to assist Frodo as he carries the ring towards Mordor, seeking to destroy the Ring of

Power, rather than wielding it.

Upon this quest, Gandalf is overcome by an ancient demon (Balrog) while passing through the mines of Moria and is presumed to be dead. The Fellowship has little time to grieve, as they march ever onwards with the loss of their hope. Only after entering Fangorn forest do

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli discover that Gandalf had been resurrected. In their joy and astonishment, they recognize that he is different from before. He is seen in his glory:

His hair was white as snow in the sunshine; and gleaming white was his robe; the eyes under his deep brows were bright, piercing as the rays of the sun; power was in his hand. Between wonder, joy, and fear they stood and found no words to say.104

The three characters are a witness to his change, to the ennoblement of his physical body by spiritual powers.

At first, they believed Gandalf was Saruman, as he possessed the same appearance as the

White Wizard and was no longer wearing the grey robes that gave him his title, ‘The Grey’. He explains his new identity, “I am indeed Saruman, one might almost say, Saruman as he should have been.”105 Gandalf is the antithesis to Saruman, as his refusal of power displays; however, he also transcends Saruman and fulfills what was lacking within his character. Gandalf chooses the

103 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 61.

104 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 494.

105 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 495. 40 humble road, the destruction of the One Ring, rather than the acceptance of power for progressive ends. He also uses his knowledge and his magic to give and to heal, while Saruman uses it to advance his progressive goals. Furthermore, Gandalf finds it worthwhile to aid those who have little power; he sees those beneath him as equals and not as a cog in the machine.

Gandalf is thus a symbol of using knowledge that accepts and upholds the spiritual significance of the material world. He knows the fantastical nature of Middle-earth and, like

Jesus in the gospels, seeks to elevate the natural world, rather than to control it.106 Gandalf’s characterization is placed in opposition to Saruman’s in order to highlight the folly of Saruman and the goodness of Gandalf. In this way, Gandalf is a symbol of what it looks like to possess a recovered vision of the world, and while Tolkien still uses Gandalf to protest Saruman’s scientism, he also uses him as a signpost to what a correct way of seeing looks like.

Gandalf is not only Tolkien’s beloved antithesis to Saruman, but his resurrection is an opportunity for the reader to confront the union of matter and spirit within Middle-earth. While

Tolkien is clear that Gandalf’s resurrection is not meant to be allegorical, and that Gandalf is not meant to portray Jesus in Middle-earth, Gandalf’s resurrection does serve a theological purpose.107 Milbank dutifully analyzes his meeting with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, comparing it to the resurrection narratives found in the gospels of Luke and John. Like Mary Magdalene in the garden and the disciples on the road to Emmaus, the three wanderers in Fangorn forest experience “a period of misapprehension, followed by an epiphany.”108 Milbank explains that, in

106 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 50.

107 Tolkien, Letters, 212, 220, 268. In these letters, Tolkien discusses the use and misuse of allegory. Specifically, he describes one to one allegory as “entirely foreign” to him.

108 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 49. 41 the Gospels, Jesus’ disciples are forced to reconcile his physical death with his sudden reappearance. Within this liminality between despair and belief, “a movement of faith has to be made by protagonist and reader alike.”109 A trust that such spiritual forces are not only present within the material world, but also able to offer new life to it.

Concerning how this plays out in The Lord of the Rings, Milbank posits that the three wanderers are forced to face the same period of misapprehension. Furthermore, our identification with the characters, and our knowledge of the story being limited to theirs, force us into the same situation. Milbank explains, “the Gandalf appearance takes the reader into a deeper supernatural dimension of Middle-earth, hitherto unknown.”110 But what exactly is this “deeper supernatural dimension?” The supernatural dimension is, undoubtedly, that spiritual power seeks to merge with the natural world and offer it hope. In both Gandalf and in Jesus, the situation is meant to provide transcendence of matter by the power of spirit. We are forced to notice the spiritual dimensions behind Gandalf’s return just as the disciples are forced to witness it in Jesus’ resurrection.

Standing opposite to Saruman, and transcending him in goodness and power, Gandalf mirrors the same theological dimensions as Jesus; Gandalf becomes a symbol of the marriage of spirit and matter. Furthermore, as Gandalf becomes what Saruman should have been, Tolkien is expressing that a theology of Incarnation, which values and seeks to bring new life into the natural world, actually accomplishes what scientism wished to accomplish. Dawson’s words are fitting here, as he claims that, “the Incarnation does not destroy or supersede nature. It is

109 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 50.

110 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 50. 42 analogous and complementary to it, since it restores and extends man’s natural function as the bond of union between the material and spiritual worlds.”111

Tolkien’s favor of Gandalf over Saruman is an expression that he, just as Chesterton and

Dawson, believes that an Incarnational worldview is favorable to a materialistic one, as it values the material world more by acknowledging its inherent spirituality. The whole novel, and the many fantastical moments within it, place the reader in a liminal space that requires acknowledgment or denial of the spiritual. The Lord of the Rings aims to stand scientism and materialism on their heads while upholding a worldview that acknowledges spiritual power in the natural world.

For Tolkien, worldviews naturally lend themselves to actions within the material world.

Just as Tolkien portrays Saruman’s materialistic worldview as allowing corruptible actions, he believes a worldview that upholds the spiritual significance of the natural world will instead focus on edification and healing. Thus, "gaining a clear view" of the world is an essential step in changing how human beings live and act upon the world around them. Tolkien; therefore, is chiefly concerned with a recovered way of being or redemption, if you will. Furthermore, correct placement of hope is pertinent to living out a recovered vision. For Tolkien, as with Chesterton and Dawson, Christian living was infused with an understanding of eschatology (the destiny of the created order). As the Incarnation inspired them to see the world differently than other writers of their time, so too did it affect how they understood their own lives in relation to the ultimate redemption of the world.

111 Dawson, Dawson, Progress & Religion, 138. 43

Living Between the Incarnation and Final Redemption

As the above discussion demonstrates, Tolkien posits that an Incarnational worldview leads to healing and edification, while a materialistic, progressive worldview leads only to corruption. But, in denying a materialistic worldview, and the notion of human progress, how does Tolkien understand the fusion of matter and spirit in relation to history? If humans are not to have hope in their technology and willpower, what are they to hope in? While Tolkien urges his readers to accept that the divine is meant to merge with the natural world, he also clearly believes that only the divine can truly redeem the world. While many during his time were suggesting that humans could bring about the Kingdom of God through technological advancement or complete trust in human progress, Tolkien believed that true human progress could only be found in a correct understanding of eschatology. For him, only Christ could initiate true material progress, marked by creation and humility rather than destruction and power.

While within Tolkien's fantasy he never specifically invokes a Christ figure, his focus on merging spiritual and material realities was a testament to his understanding of the Incarnation.

Furthermore, Tolkien felt that the truths of myth and fantasy were signposts that pointed to and were fulfilled in Christ. In "On Fairy Stories" Tolkien thoroughly explains his position, aligning with Chesterton’s belief that “mythology is a search.”112 To Tolkien, mythology and fantasy each held at least a portion of the truth of Christianity; his mythology thus became, “mirrored truth, the likeness of the true.”113 A poem, story, or image need not be inherently Christian for it to

112 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 374.

113 Tolkien, “Mythopoeia.” 44 evoke the truth of Christ. Thus The Lord of the Rings, in Tolkien’s mind, was a signpost that pointed towards Christ.

Tolkien further develops his line of thinking, concluding that the most essential aspect of a fairy story is its ability to provide consolation. He calls this eucatastrophe, explaining it as,

“the joy of the happy ending” or “the sudden joyous turn” within a novel. Tolkien believes this to be the most important aspect of fantasy, without which, a story would be incomplete. For it is the eucatastrophe which gives the reader a “fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world.”114 A euchatastrophic moment becomes an “echo of evangelium in the real world”, a true event within the narrative that points to the True event of Christ coming into the world. For

Tolkien describes the Incarnation itself as a “fairy story”, proclaiming that Christ’s birth was

“the eucatastrophe of Man’s History.”115 He conveys the same message as Dawson, for he too claimed that with the birth of Jesus, “a new kind of life” had entered into the world and given it true hope.116

Furthermore, while eucatastrophe points backward to Christ's Incarnation, it also points forward to the final redemption of God's creation. Although the Incarnation specifically refers to

Christ’s coming into the world, the marriage of matter and spirit in the new heavens and new earth is of the same concern. Chesterton and Dawson both believed that history was not devoid of God, but that the whole story would be redeemed. While world history was dramatically altered with the Incarnation, it was also teleologically (purposefully) moving forward towards

114 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 75.

115 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 75-76.

116 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 124. 45 the world’s redemption at Christ’s return. Although Tolkien admitted that history was “a long defeat” it was also riddled with eucatastrophes that proceeded from Christ himself; history contained “some samples or glimpses of final victory.”117 Ultimately, he agreed with Dawson that history was a “divine drama” that would culminate in the world’s “glorious restoration.”118

For the three authors, Christ’s righteous reign as the God-king within the world would initiate such restoration. Furthermore, this event can be seen as the ultimate marriage of matter and spirit, as heaven comes down to earth yet again, just as it did in the Incarnation.

Importantly, hope in Jesus’ restoration of the world was a challenge to the society that they lived in. Rather than accepting what Chesterton called “automatic and impersonal progress” with an “always changing vision”, Tolkien sets his sight on the righteous king and his city: the

New Jerusalem, if you will.119 For the Kingdom of heaven was Tolkien’s vision and hope.

Chesterton would have agreed, as he believed that, “we must be fond of another world (real or imaginary) in order to have something to change it to.”120 It was also Dawson who proclaimed after the madness of the Great War that, “it is in historic Christianity… that the Religion of

Progress finds its satisfaction.”121 Pertinent to this belief is the idea that God’s Kingdom would come “on earth as it is in heaven.”122 This notion was not lost to Tolkien's fantasy, for he

117 Tolkien, Letters, 255.

118 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 125.

119 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 205.

120 Chesterton, The Three Apologies, 205.

121 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 189.

122 Matthew 6:10, English Standard Version, 2015. 46 believed that legend contained clear and moving examples of final victory.123 In fact, his purpose in writing “fairy stories” was to point towards Christ’s final redemption of the world.

As Milbank observes, Chesterton and Tolkien both use their art to “mediate the divine”; their task was to soak their stories in “Christological character.”124 While Milbank’s conclusion is correct, she fails to unpack possibly the greatest embodiment of Tolkien’s theological beliefs.

She acknowledges that the Incarnation was important to Tolkien but does not consider one of the clearest examples of his admiration for the doctrine. Tolkien clearly and carefully expresses his

Christian hope in The Lord of the Rings by symbolizing it within the story of Aragorn. Aragorn’s enthronement in Gondor is rich with Christological symbolism and is an expression of Tolkien’s own theological beliefs.

It must be noted; however, that Aragorn is not an allegorical character. Tolkien did not wish to use any of his characters as C.S. Lewis used Aslan, in which the character actually embodies God within the story. Moreover, Aragorn's reign does not eternally eradicate evil within Middle-earth, neither is death defeated. Therefore, while Milbank is correct in asserting that Aragorn’s enthronement is “only historical and mortal, not immortal and divine,” she does not consider that the event still evokes a profound theological consideration.125 Symbolically,

Aragorn’s reign still demonstrates Tolkien’s theological beliefs, echoing the sentiments of

Chesterton and Dawson.

123 Tolkien, Letters, 255.

124 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 138.

125 Milbank, Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 109. 47

Throughout the novel, Aragorn’s character arc is perhaps the most intriguing. When we first encounter him in the inn at Bree, he is called “Strider”; he is a rugged traveler who lives off of the land. It is only after several events in the story that Aragorn reveals himself to be the one true king who the people of Gondor have been painfully longing for. By the time that Frodo and

Sam start making their way through Mordor, Tolkien has made it evident that Aragorn has real authority; he reveals himself to Sauron by way of the palantir, casting doubt in Sauron’s heart.

Furthermore, by the third book of The Lord of the Rings, Aragorn’s coronation is equally as anticipated as Frodo’s destruction of the ring. Wood even suggests that Aragorn’s coronation is the “climactic moment of the novel”, for the victory over Sauron will not be embodied until

“Lord Aragorn has been crowned king.”126 The event becomes a symbol of the true king’s righteous rule within the physical world, and to connect the theological implications that this possesses, Tolkien borrows language from Daniel 7:9 “to hymn the transcendent glory and hope embodied in Aragorn’s kingship.”127 As Wood observes, once the crown is placed on his head, the city is left in awe:

All that beheld him gazed in silence, for it seemed to them that he was now revealed to them for the first time… ancient of days he seemed and yet in the flower of manhood; and wisdom sat upon his brow, and strength and healing were in his hands, and a light was about him.128

The spectators have recovered a clear vision of who Aragorn is, or better yet, who he has always been. Furthermore, the reader is shown a clear picture of what righteous kingship looks

126 Ralph C. Wood, The Gospel According to Tolkien: Visions of the Kingdom in Middle-earth (Louisville; KY: Westminster John Knox, 2003), 139, 142.

127 Wood, The Gospel According to Tolkien, 142.

128 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 968. 48 like: creation and healing. Far from the display of corrupt power seen in the twentieth-century,

Aragorn's reign is marked with healing and creativity rather than death and destruction. As he comes into the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith, he brings literal healing to those who have been struck down by the shadow of the Dark Lord. Mirroring Jesus’ healing in the gospels,

Aragorn fulfills an earlier prophecy; “the hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.”129 A true king is marked by healing service, and more so by his creative power. Therefore, Aragorn’s presence has a lasting effect on the city:

It was filled with trees and with fountains, and its gates were wrought of mithril and steel, and its streets were paved with white marble… and all was healed and made good, and the houses were filled with men and women and the laughter of children.130

Thus, Tolkien uses Aragorn intentionally as “mirrored truth, the likeness of the true.”131

He is not simply a good king, but a symbol of Christ reigning within the material world.

Theologically speaking, Aragorn’s coronation represents the “cosmological overlap of heaven and earth”, found both in the Incarnation and in the promise of new creation.132 While he is a symbol of future hope, he is also a signpost to how one should live within the world. Aragorn is most laudable not for his power, but because he is an embodiment of righteousness, reigning in humility with the purpose of healing and restoring the world around him. Moreover, Aragorn embodies the virtues that Tolkien believes can change the world around him and put to halt its crumbling.

129 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 862.

130 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 862.

131 Tolkien, “Mythopoeia.”

132 N.T. Wright, History and Eschatology (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2019), 267. 49

Looking backward at the Incarnation and forwards at the new creation, Tolkien seeks to live in the present while emulating the goodness of these events; namely, bringing heaven to earth. To Chesterton, Dawson, and Tolkien, the world needed to stop trying to bring about progress by the means of easily corruptible scientism, but by seeking to bring new life into the world by way of Christian virtue. Dawson characterizes this belief, stating that, “science is unable to realize all its vast potentialities for the organization and transformation of human existence, unless it is directed by a moral purpose which it does not itself possess.”133 It was not science itself that failed, but the notion that true progress could be achieved without the guiding hand of a God who lived a life of humility and healing. Tolkien finds humility and restorative power within the Incarnation; Aragorn is a symbol of Christ being a servant king, and this humility and service are of utmost importance. Tolkien is claiming that, just as Aragorn refuses to place his own crown on his head, and creates order and new life at his coronation, society should seek to do the same. The process of transforming the world around him is marked by humility and healing power.

Therefore, ushering in the Kingdom of God was not to be represented by power. A life inspired by the Incarnation and new creation would embody the character of Aragorn and Frodo, rather than that of Saruman. For Aragorn brings new creation into the world, serving those who are powerless, while Frodo embodies the humility needed to save it. Furthermore, those characters whom Tolkien portrays in a positive light are those who care for the natural world, take the side of the oppressed, and sacrifice themselves for the sake of others.

133 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 190. 50

Chesterton and Dawson believed the same, and they greatly admired Christians whom they believed had successfully been "mirrors of Christ” within the world.134 They found this in

St. Francis. Because of Francis’s extreme humility, Chesterton describes him as “the Little Poor

Man, who had stripped himself of everything” and as “the mirror of Christ rather as the moon is the mirror of the sun.”135 To Chesterton, Francis represented Christ within the world, emulating his loving care for all of creation by neglecting power and identifying with the world around him. To Dawson, Francis was an example of embodying the Incarnation in one’s daily life. He writes, “the ideal of St. Francis is to relive the life of Christ in the experience of daily life. There is no longer any separation... between the spiritual and the material, since the two worlds have become fused together in the living reality of practical experience.”136 They both believed that, because God had entered into the everyday life of humans and transcended it, humans should seek to live out the same mission in their own lives.

Thus, Chesterton and Dawson believe it is essential to live out the life of Christ in everyday circumstances. Tolkien identifies with such thinking, using Aragorn as a mirror within

Middle-earth. He reflects the Christological aspects of humility and healing and, therefore, his symbolism is not only pointing towards final redemption but also to a Christian ethos. Aragorn’s enthronement represents a return of values to the world, a signpost calling for a humble and creative ethos in this life while anticipating it in the age to come.

134 G.K. Chesterton, St. Francis (New York: Start Publishing, 2013), 3.

135 Chesterton, St. Francis, 73.

136 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 135. 51

N.T. Wright describes such an ethos as embarking on a “new-creational task” which seeks to proclaim that the world is “charged with the grandeur of God.”137 His description is fitting and is precisely what Chesterton and Dawson hoped to inspire in their readers. Tolkien understood this task well as his writing became a practical method of bringing new life into the present world, of merging heaven and earth. This “God-given” task he called “sub-creation.”138

While some have theorized that Tolkien may have been inspired by Chesterton in this respect, no one has noted that Dawson expressed something similar in Progress & Religion.139 Dawson insisted that, because God had manifested himself in the material world, humans could similarly weave spiritual power with the material fabric of their environment:

the creative process which has reached its end in man starts off again from man in a second ascent, the possibilities of which are as yet unrealized, and which are to be grasped not by Reason, which lives on the systemization of the past, but by Faith, which is the promise of the future.140

Tolkien was inspired by his Catholic predecessor to carry out his process of new creation which was realized in his fairy stories. Tolkien’s writing was his act of new creation, which sought to bring new life to his audience. He explains this clearly in “On Fairy Stories”, echoing

Dawson's sentiments:

The Christian has still to work, with mind as well as body, to suffer, hope, and die; but he may now perceive that all his bents and faculties have a purpose, which can be redeemed. So great is the bounty with which he has been treated that

137 Wright, History and Eschatology, 269.

138 Tolkien, On Fairy Stories, 78.

139 Chesterton, The Coloured Lands, xi.

140 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 189. 52

he may now, perhaps, fairly dare to guess that in Fantasy he may actually assist in the effoliation and multiple enrichment of creation.141

Therefore, not only was Tolkien suggesting that humans live out an Incarnational worldview based on humility and healing, but that Fantasy writing may be an actual way to practice such sentiments. For in Fantasy, Tolkien believed he was highlighting the aspects of his God which he was most inspired by; namely, the redemptive healing of the world and the humility found in

Christ’s Incarnation.

In this way, The Lord of the Rings became Tolkien’s great act of evangelism, proclaiming that all of life was enchanted, and in fact, valued by the divine. Tolkien’s magnum opus was an attempt to offer the world another way, to illuminate the hope that humanity needed. Rather than finding trust in progress or despairing at the world’s crumbling, Tolkien pointed to “a God whose feet are firmly planted in the ‘natural’ soil of the present world.”142 Throughout the narrative of

The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien sets his eyes on the New Jerusalem; the image of what is to come, and the image of the Christian’s task in this life as well. He believed that a recovered vision of the Incarnate God was the only hope left for a world grappling with such horrors as the Somme or Auschwitz.

Perhaps the greatest display of Tolkien’s hope is found in Sam Gamgee’s crucial moment in Mordor; one feels that it may even mirror how Tolkien felt on the battlefields of France during the Great War. Here, Frodo and Sam have suffered a “long defeat” and it appears that they may never actually destroy the ring before the dark shadow covers all of Middle-earth.143 It is in this

141 Tolkien, “On Fairy Stories”, 79.

142 Wright, History and Eschatology, 276.

143 Tolkien, Letters, 255. 53 despair that Sam gazes at the night sky. In a moment he recovers his hope, recognizing that although his current fight is immersed in darkness, it is not the end of the story:

There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for awhile. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end that shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.144

The Incarnation Offering Another Way

Tolkien believed, in the same way as Chesterton and Dawson, that the world needed to be revitalized. He felt that European society was approaching a cliff that would only end in wreckage. While Dawson looked back on the Great War and saw it as an inevitable result of human materialism, Tolkien physically encountered the hopelessness of the First World War. In

Tolkien and the Great War, John Garth casts light on Tolkien’s experience in the war and aims at understanding how that experience colored the writing of the young author. Garth places an emphasis on Tolkien’s club (the T.C.B.S.) that included him and his closest friends from college.

All of the members of the T.C.B.S. fought in the “war to end all wars” and by the end of it,

Tolkien expressed bluntly, “all but one of my close friends [are] dead.”145

Tolkien’s participation within this club was significant in his life, and Garth shows that the death of his close friends launched Tolkien into an unventured realm of creativity. Before the war had dissipated the aspirations of millions of young Europeans, Tolkien and his friends had

144 Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 922.

145Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, xxiv. 54 determined that they must initiate a “moral and spiritual revolution.”146 The leader of this cultural movement, according to the T.C.B.S., had to be the young Tolkien. Garth explains that from the start, Tolkien and his friends aspired to mend morality and spirituality into the fabric of

European society. A fabric that they believed had been torn apart by the secularization of society and fruitless wars of greed.147

While Garth does not elaborate on what this “spiritual revolution” was, it is clear that for

Tolkien, it was grounded in an Incarnational theology. When Tolkien watched thousands of young men pour over the trenches and return to dust, he was witnessing what he believed to be the result of a mechanistic view of nature. If humanity was just another cog in the biological machine, then such astounding carnage could be deemed permissible. For Tolkien, such destruction was antithetical to his regard for the Incarnation. If God had lived, breathed and suffered as a human being, then clearly the material world was not disposable, but cherished.

While Tolkien mulled this over in the decade after the Great War, Chesterton and

Dawson had already been prophesying and responding to this disaster of human achievement. In their minds, materialistic worldviews were at the heart of false notions of human progress. After fighting in the Great War and later witnessing the horrors of World War II, Tolkien could only agree with them that such worldviews that hoped in human ingenuity and willpower would inevitably fall to corruption. What society needed was not advanced technology or political

146John Garth. Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle-earth (London: HarperCollins, 2003), 107. Garth’s is a biography that seeks to trace Tolkien’s development of his mythological world, as well as the impact of the first World War on the young writer. He is helpful in seeing the personal impact that the war had, as well as gaining an understanding of Tolkien’s desire to challenge his cultural environment. However, he ends his biography soon after Tolkien arrives home.

147 Garth, Tolkien and the Great War, 107. 55 theories, but an appreciation for the Incarnation of God. They believed that heaven had indeed come down to earth in “definite historical circumstances” and had offered a new manner of seeing and living within in the world.148 They desired to protest their cultural milieu by offering another way, by emulating the Incarnation in their lives, and the art that they created.

148 Dawson, Progress & Religion, 189. 56

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