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Pan III.... is totally unacceptable to me, as a whole and in detail. If it is meant as notes only for a section of something like the pictorial length of I and II, then in the filling out it must be brought into relation with the book, and its gross alterations of that corrected. If it is meant to represent only a kind of short finale, then all I can say is : The Lord of the Rings cannot be garbled like that.

211 To Rhona Beare

[Rhona Beare wrote, asking a number of questions, so that she could pass on Tolkien's answers to a meeting of fellow-enthusiasts for The Lord of the Rings. Why, she asked, does Sam speak the Elvish invocation as 'O Elbereth Gilthoniel' in the chapter 'The Choices of Master Samwise' when elsewhere the form used is 'A Elbereth Gilthoniel'? (This was the reading used in the first edition of the book.) What is the meaning of this invocation, and of Frodo's words in the previous chapter, 'Aiya Erendil Elenion Ancalima!'? Miss Beare then asked a series of numbered questions. 'Question 1': Why (in the first edition, I. 221) is Glorfindel's horse described as having a 'bridle and bit' when Elves ride without bit, bridle or saddle? 'Question 2': How could Ar-Pharazn defeat Sauron when Sauron had the One Ring? 'Question 3': What were the colours of the two wizards mentioned but not named in the book? 'Question 4': What clothes did the peoples of Middle-earth wear? Was the winged crown of Gondor like that of a Valkyrie, or as depicted on a Gauloise cigarette packet? Explain the meaning of El- in Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir; when does El- mean 'elf and when 'star'? Explain the meaning of the name Legolas. Did the Witch-king ride a pterodactyl at the siege of Gondor? 'Question 5': Who is the Elder King mentioned by Bilbo in his song of Erendil? Is he the One?]

14 October 1958 Merton College, Oxford Dear Miss Beare, I am afraid that this reply is too late to be useful for the event; but it was not possible to write before. I have only just returned from a year's leave, one object of which was to enable me to complete some of the 'learned' works neglected during my preoccupation with unprofessional trifles (such as The Lord of the Rings): I record the tone of many of my colleagues. Actually the time has mainly been occupied with grave troubles, including the illness of my wife; but I was all through August working long hours, seven days a week, against time, to finish a piece of work before going to Ireland on official business. I arrived back a few days ago, just in time for our Michaelmas Term.

In a momentary lull I will try and answer your questions briefly. I do not 'know all the answers'. Much of my own book puzzles me; & in any case much of it was written so long ago (anything up to 20 years) that I read it now as if it were from a strange hand.

The use of O on II p. 339 is an error. Mine in fact, taken over from p. 338, where Gilthoniel O Elbereth is, of course, a quotation of I p. 88, which was a 'translation', English in all but proper names. Sam's invocation is, however, in pure Elvish and should have had A as in I p. 250. Since hobbit-language is represented as English, O could be defended as an inaccuracy of his own; but I do not propose to defend it. He was 'inspired' to make this invocation in a language he did not know (II 338). Though it is, of course, in the style and metre of the hymn-fragment, I think it is composed or inspired for his particular situation.

It means, more or less: 'O Elbereth Starkindler (in the past tense: the title belongs to mythical pre-history and does not refer to a permanent function) from heaven gazing-afar, to thee I cry now in the shadow of (the fear of) death. O look towards me, Everwhite!' Everwhite is an inadequate translation; as is equally the snow-white of I 88. The element ui (Primitive Elvish oio) means ever; both fan- and los(s) convey white, but fan connotes the whiteness of clouds (in the sun); loss refers to snow.

Amon Uilos, in High-elven Oiolosse,69 was one of the names of the highest peak of the Mountains of Valinor, upon which Manwe and Varda dwelt. So that an Elf using or hearing the name Fanuilos, would not think of (or picture) only a majestic figure robed in white, standing in a high place and gazing eastward to mortal lands, he would at the same time picture an immense peak, snow-capped, crowned with a piercing or dazzling white cloud.

Ancalima = 'exceedingly bright'. Element kal70 the usual stem for words referring to light; klma, 'shining brilliant'; an- superlative or intensive prefix.

Question 1. I could, I suppose, answer: 'a trick-cyclist can ride a bicycle with handle-bars!' But actually bridle was casually and carelessly used for what I suppose should have been called a headstall. Or rather, since bit was added (1221) long ago (Chapter 112 was written very early) I had not considered the natural ways of elves with animals. Glorfindel's horse would have an ornamental headstall, carrying a plume, and with the straps studded with jewels and small bells; but Glor. would certainly not use a bit. I will change bridle and bit to headstall.

Question 2. This question, & its implications, are answered in the 'Downfall of Numenor', which is not yet published, but which I cannot set out now. You cannot press the One Ring too hard, for it is of course a mythical feature, even though the world of the tales is conceived in more or less historical terms. The Ring of Sauron is only one of the various mythical treatments of the placing of one's life, or power, in some external object, which is thus exposed to capture or destruction with disastrous results to oneself. If I were to 'philosophize' this myth, or at least the Ring of Sauron, I should say it was a mythical way of representing the truth that potency (or perhaps rather potentiality) if it is to be exercised, and produce results, has to be externalized and so as it were passes, to a greater or less degree, out of one's direct control. A man who wishes to exert 'power' must have subjects, who are not himself. But he then depends on them.

Ar-Pharazn, as is told in the 'Downfall' or Akallabth, conquered a terrified Sauron's subjects, not Sauron. Sauron's personal 'surrender' was voluntary and cunning71: he got free transport to Numenor! He naturally had the One Ring, and so very soon dominated the minds and wills of most of the Nmenreans. (I do not think Ar-Pharazn knew anything about the One Ring. The Elves kept the matter of the Rings very secret, as long as they could. In any case Ar-Pharazn was not in communication with them. In the Tale of Years III p. 364 you will find hints of the trouble: 'the Shadow falls on Numenor'. After Tar-Atanamir (an Elvish name) the next name is Ar-Adunakhr a Nmenrean name. See p. 315. The change of names went with a complete rejection of the Elf-friendship, and of the 'theological' teaching the Nmenreans had received from them.) Sauron was first defeated by a 'miracle': a direct action of God the Creator, changing the fashion of the world, when appealed to by Manw: see III p. 317. Though reduced to 'a spirit of hatred borne on a dark wind', I do not think one need boggle at this spirit carrying off the One Ring, upon which his power of dominating minds now largely depended. That Sauron was not himself destroyed in the anger of the One is not my fault: the problem of evil, and its apparent toleration, is a permanent one for all who concern themselves with our world. The indestructibility of spirits with free wills, even by the Creator of them, is also an inevitable feature, if one either believes in their existence, or feigns it in a story.

Sauron was, of course, 'confounded' by the disaster, and diminished (having expended enormous energy in the corruption of Nmenor). He needed time for his own bodily rehabilitation, and for gaining control over his former subjects. He was attacked by Gil-galad and Elendil before his new domination was fully established.

Question 3. I have not named the colours, because I do not know them. I doubt if they had distinctive colours. Distinction was only required in the case of the three who remained in the relatively small area of the North-west. (On the names see Q[uestion]5.) I really do not know anything clearly about the other two since they do not concern the history of the N.W. I think they went as emissaries to distant regions, East and South, far out of Nmenrean range: missionaries to 'enemy-occupied' lands, as it were. What success they had I do not know; but I fear that they failed, as Saruman did, though doubtless in different ways; and I suspect they were founders or beginners of secret cults and 'magic' traditions that outlasted the fall of Sauron.

Question 4. I do not know the detail of clothing. I visualize with great clarity and detail scenery and 'natural' objects, but not artefacts. Pauline Baynes drew her inspiration for F. Giles largely from mediaeval MS. drawings except for the knights (who are a bit 'King-Arthurish')72 the style seems to fit well enough. Except that males, especially in northern parts such as the Shire, would wear breeches, whether hidden by a cloak or long mantle, or merely accompanied by a tunic.

I have no doubt that in the area envisaged by my story (which is large) the 'dress' of various peoples, Men and others, was much diversified in the Third Age, according to climate, and inherited custom. As was our world, even if we only consider Europe and the Mediterranean and the very near 'East' (or South), before the victory in our time of the least lovely style of dress (especially for males and 'neuters') which recorded history reveals a victory that is still going on, even among those who most hate the lands of its origin. The Rohirrim were not 'mediaeval', in our sense. The styles of the Bay eux Tapestry (made in England) fit them well enough, if one remembers that the kind of tennis-nets [the] soldiers seem to have on are only a clumsy conventional sign for chain-mail of small rings.

The Nmenreans of Gondor were proud, peculiar, and archaic, and I think are best pictured in (say) Egyptian terms. In many ways they resembled 'Egyptians' the love of, and power to construct, the gigantic and massive. And in their great interest in ancestry and in tombs. (But not of course in 'theology' : in which respect they were Hebraic and even more puritan but this would take long to set out: to explain indeed why there is practically no oven 'religion',73 or rather religious acts or places or ceremonies among the 'good' or anti-Sauron peoples in The Lord of the Rings.) I think the crown of Gondor (the S. Kingdom) was very tall, like that of Egypt, but with wings attached, not set straight back but at an angle.

The N. Kingdom had only a diadem (III 323). Cf. the difference between the N. and S. kingdoms of Egypt.

El. Difficult to distinguish 'star' and 'elf, since they are derivatives of the same basic element EL 'star' ; as the first element in compounds el- may mean (or at least symbolize) either. As a separate word 'star' was *ln, plural *elen in primitive Elvish. The Elves were called eled/elen 'an Elf (High-elven Elda) because they were found by the Vala Orom in a valley under the star-light; and they remained always lovers of the stars. But this name became specially attached to those that eventually marched West guided by Orom (and mostly passed Oversea).

The Grey-elven (Sindarin) forms should have been l, pl. elin; and eledh (pi. elidh). But the latter term passed out of use among the Grey-elves (Sindar) who did not go over Sea; though it remained in some proper-names as Eledhwen, 'Elven-fair'. After the return in exile of the Noldor (pan of the High-elves), the High-elven elda was taken over again by the Grey-elves as eld>ell, and referred to the High-elven exiles. This is, no doubt, the origin of el, ell- in such names as Elrond, Elros, Elladan, Elrohir.

Elrond, Elros. *rond was a prim[itive] Elvish word for 'cavern'. Cf. Nargothrond (fortified cavern by the R. Narog), Aglarond, etc. *ross meant 'dew, spray (of fall or fountain)'. Elrond and Elros, children of Erendil (sea-lover) and Elwing (Elf-foam), were so called, because they were carried off by the sons of Fanor, in the last act of the feud between the high-elven houses of the Noldorin princes concerning the Silmarils; the Silmaril rescued from Morgoth by Beren and Lthien, and given to King Thingol Lthien's father, had descended to Elwing dtr. of Dior, son of Lthien. The infants were not slain, but left like 'babes in the wood', in a cave with a fall of water over the entrance. There they were found: Elrond within the cave, and Elros dabbling in the water.

Elrohir, Elladan: these names, given to his sons by Elrond, refer to the fact that they were 'half-elven' (III 314): they had mortal as well as Elvish ancestors on both sides; Tuor on their father's side, Beren on their mother's. Both signify elf+man. Elrohir might be translated 'Elf-knight'; rohir being a later form (III 391) of rochir 'horse-lord' from roch 'horse'+hir 'master': Prim. Elvish rokk and khr or kher: High-elven rocco, hr (hru). Elladan might be translated 'Elf-Nmenrean'. Adan (pl. Edain) was the Sindarin form of the name given to the 'fathers of men', the members of the Three Houses of Elf-friends, whose survivors afterwards became the Nmenreans, or Dn-edain.

Legolas means 'green-leaves', a woodland name dialectal form of pure Sindarin laegolas: *lass (High-elven lasse, S. las(s)) 'leaf'; *gwa-lassa/*gwa-lassi 'collection of leaves, foliage' (H.E. olassi, S. golas, -olas); *laik 'green' basis LAY as in laire 'summer' (H.E. laica, S. laeg (seldom used, usually replaced by calen), woodland leg).

Pterodactyl. Yes and no. I did not intend the steed of the Witch-King to be what is now called a 'pterodactyl', and often is drawn (with rather less shadowy evidence than lies behind many monsters of the new and fascinating semi-scientific mythology of the 'Prehistoric'). But obviously it is pterodactylic and owes much to the new mythology, and its description even provides a sort of way in which it could be a last survivor of older geological eras.

Question 5. Manw, husband of Varda; or in Grey-elven Manw and Elbereth. Since the Valar had no language of their own, not needing one, they had no 'true' names, only identities, and their names were conferred on them by the Elves, being in origin therefore all, as it were, 'nicknames', referring to some striking peculiarity, function, or deed. (The same is true of the 'Istari' or Wizards who were emissaries of the Valar, and of their kind.) In consequence each identity had several 'nicknames'; and the names of the Valar were not necessarily related in different Elvish languages (or languages of Men deriving their knowledge from Elves). (Elbereth and Varda 'Star-lady' and 'Lofty' are not related words, but refer to the same person.) Manw (Blessed Being) was Lord of the Valar, and therefore the high or Elder King of Arda. Arda 'realm' was the name given to our world or earth, as being the place, within the immensity of E, selected to be the seat and special domain of the King because of his knowledge that the Children of God would appear there. In the cosmogonic myth Manw is said to be 'brother' of Melkor, that is they were coval and equipotent in the mind of the Creator. Melkor became the rebel, and the Diabolos of these tales, who disputed the kingdom of Arda with Manw. (He was usually called Morgoth in Grey-elven.) The One does not physically inhabit any pan of Ea.

May I say that all this is 'mythical', and not any kind of new religion or vision. As far as I know it is merely an imaginative invention, to express, in the only way I can, some of my (dim) apprehensions of the world. All I can say is that, if it were 'history', it would be difficult to fit the lands and events (or 'cultures') into such evidence as we possess, archaeological or geological, concerning the nearer or remoter part of what is now called Europe; though the Shire, for instance, is expressly stated to have been in this region (I p. 12). I could have fitted things in with greater versimilitude, if the story had not become too far developed, before the question ever occurred to me. I doubt if there would have been much gain; and I hope the, evidently long but undefined, gap74 in time between the Fall of Barad-dr and our Days is sufficient for 'literary credibility', even for readers acquainted with what is known or surmised of 'pre-history'.

I have, I suppose, constructed an imaginary time, but kept my feet on my own mother-earth for place. I prefer that to the contemporary mode of seeking remote globes in 'space'. However curious, they are alien, and not lovable with the love of blood-kin. Middle-earth is (by the way & if such a note is necessary) not my own invention. It is a modernization or alteration (N[ew] E[nglish] Dictionary] 'a perversion') of an old word for the inhabited world of Men, the oikoumen: middle because thought of vaguely as set amidst the encircling Seas and (in the northern-imagination) between ice of the North and the fire of the South. O.English middan-geard, mediaeval E. midden-erd, middle-erd. Many reviewers seem to assume that Middle-earth is another planet!

Theologically (if the term is not too grandiose) I imagine the picture to be less dissonant from what some (including myself) believe to be the truth. But since I have deliberately written a tale, which is built on or out of certain 'religious' ideas, but is not an allegory of them (or anything else), and does not mention them overtly, still less preach them, I will not now depart from that mode, and venture on theological disquisition for which I am not fitted. But I might say that if the tale is 'about' anything (other than itself), it is not as seems widely supposed about 'power'. Power-seeking is only the motive-power that sets events going, and is relatively unimportant, I think. It is mainly concerned with Death, and Immortality; and the 'escapes': serial longevity, and hoarding memory.

Yours sincerely

J. R. R. Tolkien.

212 Draft of a continuation of the above letter (not sent)

Since I have written so much (I hope not too much) I might as well add a few lines on the Myth on which all is founded, since it may make clearer the relations of Valar, Elves, Men, Sauron, Wizards &c.

The Valar or 'powers, rulers' were the first 'creation': rational spirits or minds without incarnation, created before the physical world. (Strictly these spirits were called Ainur, the Valar being only those from among them who entered the world after its making, and the name is properly applied only to the great among them, who take the imaginative but not the theological place of 'gods'.) The Ainur took part in the making of the world as 'sub-creators': in various degrees, after this fashion. They interpreted according to their powers, and completed in detail, the Design propounded to them by the One. This was propounded first in musical or abstract form, and then in an 'historical vision'. In the first interpretation, the vast Music of the Ainur, Melkor introduced alterations, not interpretations of the mind of the One, and great discord arose. The One then presented this 'Music', including the apparent discords, as a visible 'history'.

At this stage it had still only a validity, to which the validity of a 'story' among ourselves may be compared: it 'exists' in the mind of the teller, and derivatively in the minds of hearers, but not on the same plane as teller or hearers. When the One (the Teller) said Let it Be,75 then the Tale became History, on the same plane as the hearers; and these could, if they desired, enter into it. Many of the Ainur did enter into it, and must bide in it till the End, being involved in Time, the series of events that complete it. These were the Valar, and their lesser attendants. They were those who had 'fallen in love' with the vision, and no doubt, were those who had played the most 'sub-creative' (or as we might say 'artistic') part in the Music.

It was because of their love of E, and because of the pan they had played in its making, that they wished to, and could, incarnate themselves in visible physical forms, though these were comparable to our clothes (in so far as our clothes are a personal expression) not to our bodies. Their forms were thus expressions of their persons, powers, and loves. They need not be anthropomorphic (Yavanna wife76 of Aul would, for instance, appear in the form of a great Tree.) But the 'habitual' shapes of the Valar, when visible or clothed, were anthropomorphic, because of their intense concern with Elves and Men.

Elves and Men were called the 'children of God', because they were, so to speak, a private addition to the Design, by the Creator, and one in which the Valar had no part. (Their 'themes' were introduced into the Music by the One, when the discords of Melkor arose.) The Valar knew that they would appear, and the great ones knew when and how (though not precisely), but they knew little of their nature, and their foresight, derived from their pre-knowledge of the Design, was imperfect or failed in the matter of the deeds of the Children. The uncorrupted Valar, therefore, yearned for the Children before they came and loved them afterwards, as creatures 'other' than themselves, independent of them and their artistry, 'children' as being weaker and more ignorant than the Valar, but of equal lineage (deriving being direct from the One); even though under their authority as rulers of Arda. The corrupted, as was Melkor/Morgoth and his followers (of whom Sauron was one of the chief) saw in them the ideal material for subjects and slaves, to whom they could become masters and 'gods', envying the Children, and secretly hating them, in proportion as they became rebels against the One (and Manw his Lieutenant in E).

In this mythical 'prehistory' immortality, strictly longevity co-extensive with the life of Arda, was pan of the given nature of the Elves; beyond the End nothing was revealed. Mortality, that is a short life-span having no relation to the life of Arda, is spoken of as the given nature of Men: the Elves called it the Gift of Ilvatar (God). But it must be remembered that mythically these tales are Elf-centred,77 not anthropocentric, and Men only appear in them, at what must be a point long after their Coming. This is therefore an 'Elvish' view, and does not necessarily have anything to say for or against such beliefs as the Christian that 'death' is not part of human nature, but a punishment for sin (rebellion), a result of the 'Fall'. It should be regarded as an Elvish perception of what death - not being tied to the 'circles of the world' should now become for Men, however it arose. A divine 'punishment' is also a divine 'gift', if accepted, since its object is ultimate blessing, and the supreme inventiveness of the Creator will make 'punishments' (that is changes of design) produce a good not otherwise to be attained: a 'mortal' Man has probably (an Elf would say) a higher if unrevealed destiny than a longeval one. To attempt by device or 'magic' to recover longevity is thus a supreme folly and wickedness of 'mortals'. Longevity or counterfeit 'immortality' (true immortality is beyond Ea) is the chief bait of Sauron it leads the small to a Gollum, and the great to a Ringwraith.

In the Elvish legends there is record of a strange case of an Elf (Mriel mother of Fanor) that tried to die, which had disastrous results, leading to the 'Fall' of the High-elves. The Elves were not subject to disease, but they could be 'slain': that is their bodies could be destroyed, or mutilated so as to be unfit to sustain life. But this did not lead naturally to 'death': they were rehabilitated and reborn and eventually recovered memory of all their past: they remained 'identical'. But Mriel wished to abandon being, and refused rebirth.78 I suppose a difference between this Myth and what may be perhaps called Christian mythology is this. In the latter the Fall of Man is subsequent to and a consequence (though not a necessary consequence) of the 'Fall of the Angels' : a rebellion of created free-will at a higher level than Man; but it is not clearly held (and in many versions is not held at all) that this affected the 'World' in its nature: evil was brought in from outside, by Satan. In this Myth the rebellion of created free-will precedes creation of the World (E); and E has in it, subcreatively introduced, evil, rebellions, discordant elements of its own nature already when the Let it Be was spoken. The Fall or corruption, therefore, of all things in it and all inhabitants of it, was a possibility if not inevitable. Trees may 'go bad' as in the Old Forest; Elves may turn into Orcs, and if this required the special perversive malice of Morgoth, still Elves themselves could do evil deeds. Even the 'good' Valar as inhabiting the World could at least err; as the Great Valar did in their dealings with the Elves; or as the lesser of their kind (as the Istari or wizards) could in various ways become self-seeking. Aul, for instance, one of the Great, in a sense 'fell'; for he so desired to see the Children, that he became impatient and tried to anticipate the will of the Creator. Being the greatest of all craftsmen he tried to make children according to his imperfect knowledge of their kind. When he had made thirteen,79 God spoke to him in anger, but not without pity : for Aul had done this thing not out of evil desire to have slaves and subjects of his own, but out of impatient love, desiring children to talk to and teach, sharing with them the praise of Ilvatar and his great love of the materials of which the world is made.

The One rebuked Aul, saying that he had tried to usurp the Creator's power; but he could not give independent life to his makings. He had only one life, his own derived from the One, and could at most only distribute it. 'Behold' said the One: 'these creatures of thine have only thy will, and thy movement. Though you have devised a language for them, they can only report to thee thine own thought. This is a mockery of me.'

Then Aul in grief and repentance humbled himself and asked for pardon. And he said: 'I will destroy these images of my presumption, and wait upon thy will.' And he took a great hammer, raising it to smite the eldest of his images; but it flinched and cowered from him. And as he withheld his stroke, astonished, he heard the laughter of Ilvatar.

'Do you wonder at this?' he said. 'Behold! thy creatures now live, free from thy will! For I have seen thy humility, and taken pity on your impatience. Thy making I have taken up into my design.'

This is the Elvish legend of the making of the Dwarves ; but the Elves report that Iluvatar said thus also: 'Nonetheless I will not suffer my design to be forestalled: thy children shall not awake before mine own.' And he commanded Aule to lay the fathers of the Dwarves severally in deep places, each with his mate, save Drin the eldest who had none. There they should sleep long, until Ilvatar bade them awake. Nonetheless there has been for the most part little love between the Dwarves and the children of Iluvatar. And of the fate that Ilvatar has set upon the children of Aul beyond the Circles of the world Elves and men know nothing, and if Dwarves know they do not speak of it.

213 From a letter to Deborah Webster

25 October 1958 I do not like giving 'facts' about myself other than 'dry' ones (which anyway are quite as relevant to my books as any other more Juicy details). Not simply for personal reasons; but also because I object to the contemporary trend in criticism, with its excessive interest in the details of the lives of authors and artists. They only distract attention from an author's works (if the works are in fact worthy of attention), and end, as one now often sees, in becoming the main interest. But only one's guardian Angel, or indeed God Himself, could unravel the real relationship between personal facts and an author's works. Not the author himself (though he knows more than any investigator), and certainly not so-called 'psychologists'.

But, of course, there is a scale of significance in 'facts' of this sort. There are insignificant facts (those particularly dear to analysts and writers about writers): such as drunkenness, wife-beating, and suchlike disorders. I do not happen to be guilty of these particular sins. But if I were, I should not suppose that artistic work proceeded from the weaknesses that produced them, but from other and still uncorrupted regions of my being. Modern 'researchers' inform me that Beethoven cheated his publishers, and abominably ill-treated his nephew; but I do not believe that has anything to do with his music. Then there are more significant facts, which have some relation to an author's works; though knowledge of them does not really explain the works, even if examined at length. For instance I dislike French, and prefer Spanish to Italian but the relation of these facts to my taste in languages (which is obviously a large ingredient in The Lord of the Rings) would take a long time to unravel, and leave you liking (or disliking) the names and bits of language in my books, just as before. And there are a few basic facts, which however drily expressed, are really significant. For instance I was born in 1892 and lived for my early years in 'the Shire' in a pre-mechanical age. Or more important, I am a Christian (which can be deduced from my stories), and in fact a Roman Catholic. The latter 'fact' perhaps cannot be deduced; though one critic (by letter) asserted that the invocations of Elbereth, and the character of Galadriel as directly described (or through the words of Gimli and Sam) were clearly related to Catholic devotion to Mary. Another saw in waybread (lembas)= viaticum and the reference to its feeding the will (vol. III, p. 213) and being more potent when fasting, a derivation from the Eucharist. (That is: far greater things may colour the mind in dealing with the lesser things of a fairy-story.) I am in fact a Hobbit (in all but size). I like gardens, trees and unmechanized farmlands; I smoke a pipe, and like good plain food (unrefrigerated), but detest French cooking; I like, and even dare to wear in these dull days, ornamental waistcoats. I am fond of mushrooms (out of a field); have a very simple sense of humour (which even my appreciative critics find tiresome); I go to bed late and get up late (when possible). I do not travel much. I love Wales (what is left of it, when mines, and the even more ghastly sea-side resons, have done their worst), and especially the Welsh language. But I have not in fact been in W. for a long time (except for crossing it on the way to Ireland). I go frequently to Ireland (Eire: Southern Ireland) being fond of it and of (most of) its people; but the Irish language I find wholly unattractive. I hope that is enough to go on with.

214 To A. C. Nunn (draft)

[A reply to a reader who pointed out an apparent contradiction in The Lord of the Rings: that in the chapter 'A Long-expected Party' it is stated that 'Hobbits give presents to other people on their own birthdays'; yet Gollum refers to the Ring as his 'birthday present', and the account of how he acquired it, in the chapter 'The Shadow of the Past', indicates that his people received presents on their birthdays. Mr Nunn's letter continued: 'Therefore, one of the following must be true: (1) Smeagol's people were not "of hobbit-kind" as suggested by Gandalf (I p. 62); (2) the Hobbit custom of giving presents was only a recent growth; (3) the customs of the Stoors [Smeagol-Gollum's people] differed from those of other Hobbits; or (5) [sic] there is an error in the text. I shall be most grateful if you can spare the time to undertake some research into this important matter.]

[Not dated; probably late 1958-early 1959.]

Dear Mr Nunn, I am not a model of scholarship; but in the matter of the Third Age I regard myself as a 'recorder' only. The faults that may appear in my record are, I believe, in no case due to errors, that is statements of what is not true, but omissions, and incompleteness of information, mostly due to the necessity of compression, and to the attempt to introduce information en passant in the course of narrative which naturally tended to cut out many things not immediately bearing on the tale.

In the matter of birthday-customs and the apparent discrepancies that you note, we can therefore, I think, dismiss your alternatives (1) and (5). You omit (4).

With regard to (1) Gandalf certainly says at first 'I guess' p. 62; but that is in accordance with his character and wisdom. In more modern language he would have said 'I deduce', referring to matters that had not come under his direct observation, but on which he had formed a conclusion based on study. (You will observe in the Appendix B that the Wizards did not come until shortly before the first appearance of Hobbits in any records, at which time they were already divided into three marked branches.) But he did not in fact doubt his conclusion 'It is true all the same, etc.' p. 63.

Your alternative (2) would be possible; but since the recorder says on p. 35 Hobbits (which he uses whatever its origin, as the name for the whole race), and not the Hobbits of the Shire, or Shire-folk, it must be supposed that he means that the custom of giving presents was in some form common to all varieties, including Stoors. But since your (3) is naturally true, we might expect even so deep-rooted a custom to be exhibited in rather different ways in different branches. With the remigration of the Stoors back to Wilderland in TA 1356, all contact between this retrograde group and the ancestors of the Shirefolk was broken. More than 1100 years elapsed before the Deagol-Smeagol incident (c. 2463). At the time of the Party in TA 3001, when the customs of the Shire-folk are cursorily alluded to insofar as they affect the story, the gap of time was nearly 1650 years.

All Hobbits were slow to change, but the remigrant Stoors were going back to a wilder and more primitive life of small and dwindling80 communities; while the Shire-folk in the 1400 years of their occupation had developed a more settled and elaborate social life, in which the importance of kinship to their sentiment and customs was assisted by detailed traditions, written and oral.

Though I omitted any discourse on this curious but characteristic fact of their behaviour, the facts concerning the Shire could be set out in some detail. The riverside Stoors must, naturally, remain more conjectural.

'Birthdays' had a considerable social importance. A person celebrating his/her birthday was called a ribadyan (which may be rendered according to the system described and adopted a byrding). The customs connected with birthdays had, though deeply rooted, become regulated by fairly strict etiquette; and so in consequence were in many cases reduced to formalities: as indeed suggested by 'not very expensive ones as a rule' p. 35; and especially by p. 46 11. 20-26. With regard to presents: on his birthday the 'byrding' both gave and received presents; but the processes were different in origin, function, and etiquette. The reception was omitted by the narrator (since it does not concern the Party) but it was in fact the older custom, and therefore the one most formalized. (It does concern the Smeagol-Deagol incident, but the narrator, being obliged to reduce this to its most significant elements, and to put it into the mouth of Gandalf talking to a hobbit, naturally made no comment on a custom which the hobbit (and we) should regard as natural in connexion with birthdays.) Receiving of gifts: this was an ancient ritual connected with kinship. It was in origin a recognition of the byrding's membership of a family or clan, and a commemoration of his formal 'incorporation'.81No present was given by father or mother to their children on their (the children's) birthdays (except in the rare cases of adoption); but the reputed head of the family was supposed to give something, if only in 'token'.

Giving gifts: was a personal matter, not limited to kinship. It was a form of 'thanksgiving', and taken as a recognition of services, benefits, and friendship shown, especially in the past year.

It may be noted that Hobbits, as soon as they became 'faunts' (that is talkers and walkers: formally taken to be on their third birthday-anniversary) gave presents to their parents. These were supposed to be things 'produced' by the giver (that is found, grown, or made by the 'byrding'), beginning in small children with bunches of wild flowers. This may have been the origin of the 'thanksgiving' presents of wider distribution, and the reason why it remained 'correct' even in the Shire for such presents to be things belonging to or produced by the giver. Samples of the produce of their gardens fields or workshops remained the usual 'gifts given', especially among the poorer Hobbits.

In the Shire etiquette, at the date of the Party, 'expectation of receiving' was limited to second cousins or nearer kin, and to residence within 12 miles.82 Even close friends (if unrelated) were not 'expected' to give, though they might. The Shire residence-limit was obviously a fairly recent result of the gradual break-up of kinship communities and families and dispersal of relatives, under long-settled conditions. For the received birthday presents (no doubt as a relic of the customs of small ancient families) must be delivered in person, properly on the eve of the Day, and at latest before nuncheon on the Day. They were received privately by the 'byrding'; and it was very improper to exhibit them separately or as a collection precisely to avoid such embarrassments as may occur in our wedding-exhibitions (which would have horrified the Shirefolk).83 The giver could thus accommodate his gift to his purse and his affections without incurring public comment or offending (if anyone) any other than the recipient. But custom did not demand costly presents, and a Hobbit was more readily flattered and delighted by an unexpectedly 'good' or desirable present than offended by a customary token of family good-will.

A trace of this can be seen in the account of Smeagol and Deagol modified by the individual characters of these rather miserable specimens. Deagol, evidently a relative (as no doubt all the members of the small community were), had already given his customary present to Smeagol, although they probably set out on their expedition v. early in the morning. Being a mean little soul he grudged it. Smeagol, being meaner and greedier, tried to use the 'birthday' as an excuse for an act of tyranny. 'Because I wants it' was his frank statement of his chief claim. But he also implied that D's gift was a poor and insufficient token: hence D's retort that on the contrary it was more than he could afford.

The giving of presents by the 'byrding' leaving out of account the gifts to parents,84 mentioned above - being personal and a form of thanks, varied much more in form in different times and places, and according to the age and status of the 'byrding'. The master and mistress of a house or hole, in the Shire, would give gifts to all under their roof, or in their service, and usually also to near neighbours. And they might extend the list as they pleased, remembering any special favours in the past year. It was understood that the giving of presents was not fixed by rule ; though the withholding of a usual gift (as e.g. to a child, a servant, or a next door neighbour) was taken as a rebuke and mark of severe displeasure. Juniors & Inmates (those having no house of their own) were under no such obligations as rested on householders; but they usually gave presents according to their means or affections. 'Not very expensive as a rule' applied to all the gifts. Bilbo was in this as in other ways an exceptional person, and his Party was a riot of generosity even for a wealthy Hobbit. But one of the commonest birthday ceremonies was the giving of a 'party' in the evening of the Day. All those invited were given presents by the host, and expected them, as part of the entertainment (if secondary to the fare provided). But they did not bring presents with them. Shire-folk would have thought that very improper. If the guests had not already given a gift (being one of those required to do so by kinship), it was too late. For other guests it was a thing 'not done' it looked like paying for the party or matching the party-gift, and was most embarrassing. Sometimes, in the case of a very dear friend unable to come to a party (because of distance or other causes) a token invitation would be sent, with a present. In that case the present was always something to eat or drink, purporting to be a sample of the party-fare.

I think it will be seen that all the details recorded as 'facts' do actually fit into a definite picture of sentiment and custom, though this picture is not sketched even in the incomplete fashion of this note. It could, of course, have appeared in the Prologue: e.g. in the middle of p. 12. But though I cut out a great deal, that Prologue is still too long and overloaded according even to those critics who allow that it has some use, and do not (as some) advise readers to forget it or skip it.

Incomplete as it is, this note may seem to you much too long; and though you asked for it, more than you asked for. But I do not see how I could have answered your queries more shortly in a way suitable to the compliment you pay me by taking an interest in Hobbits sufficient to mark the lacuna in the information provided.

However, the giving of information always opens still further vistas; and you will no doubt see that the brief account of 'presents' opens yet more anthropological matters implicit to such terms as kinship, family, clan, and so on. I venture to add a further note on this point, lest, in considering the text in the light of my reply, you should feel inclined to enquire further about Smeagol's 'grandmother', whom Gandalf represents as a ruler (of a family of high repute, large and wealthier than most, p. 62) and even calls a 'matriarch' (p. 66).

As far as I know Hobbits were universally monogamous (indeed they very seldom married a second time, even if wife or husband died very young); and I should say that their family arrangements were 'patrilinear' rather than patriarchal. That is, their family names descended in the male-line (and women were adopted into their husband's name); also the titular head of the family was usually the eldest male. In the case of large powerful families (such as the Tooks), still cohesive even when they had become very numerous, and more what we might call clans, the head was properly the eldest male of what was considered the most direct line of descent. But the government of a 'family', as of the real unit: the 'household', was not a monarchy (except by accident). It was a 'dyarchy', in which master and mistress had equal status, if different functions. Either was held to be the proper representative of the other in the case of absence (including death). There were no 'dowagers'. If the master died first, his place was taken by his wife, and this included (if he had held that position) the titular headship of a large family or clan. This title thus did not descend to the son, or other heir, while she lived, unless she voluntarily resigned.85 It could, therefore, happen in various circumstances that a long-lived woman of forceful character remained 'head of the family', until she had full-grown grandchildren.

Laura Baggins (nee Grubb) remained 'head' of the family of 'Baggins of Hobbiton', until she was 102. As she was 7 years younger than her husband (who died at the age of 93 in SY 1300), she held this position for 16 years, until SY 1316; and her son Bungo did not become 'head', until he was 70, ten years before he died at the early age of 80. Bilbo did not succeed, until the death of his Took mother. Belladonna, in 1334, when he was 44.

The Baggins headship then, owing to the strange events, fell into doubt. Otho Sackville-Baggins was heir to this title quite apart from questions of property that would have arisen if his cousin Bilbo had died intestate; but after the legal fiasco of 1342 (when Bilbo returned alive after being 'presumed dead') no one dared to presume his death again. Otho died in 1412, his son Lotho was murdered in 1419, and his wife Lobelia died in 1420. When Master Samwise reported the 'departure over Sea' of Bilbo (and Frodo) in 1421, it was still held impossible to presume death; and when Master Samwise became Mayor in 1427, a rule was made that: 'if any inhabitant of the Shire shall pass over Sea in the presence of a reliable witness, with the expressed intention not to return, or in circumstances plainly implying such an intention, he or she shall be deemed to have relinquished all titles rights or properties previously held or occupied, and the heir or heirs thereof shall forthwith enter into possession of these titles, rights, or properties, as is directed by established custom, or by the will and disposition of the departed, as the case may require.' Presumably the title of 'head' then passed to the descendants of Ponto Baggins probably Ponto (II).

A well-known case, also, was that of Lalia the Great (or less courteously the Fat). Fortinbras II, one time head of the Tooks and Thain, married Lalia of the Clayhangers in 1314, when he was 36 and she was 31. He died in 1380 at the age of 102, but she long outlived him, coming to an unfortunate end in 1402 at the age of 119. So she ruled the Tooks and the Great Smials for 22 years, a great and memorable, if not universally beloved, 'matriarch'. She was not at the famous Party (SY 1401), but was prevented from attending rather by her great size and immobility than by her age. Her son, Ferumbras, had no wife, being unable (it was alleged) to find anyone willing to occupy apartments in the Great Smials, under the rule of Lalia. Lalia, in her last and fattest years, had the custom of being wheeled to the Great Door, to take the air on a fine morning. In the spring of SY 1402 her clumsy attendant let the heavy chair run over the threshold and tipped Lalia down the flight of steps into the garden. So ended a reign and life that might well have rivalled that of the Great Took.

It was widely rumoured that the attendant was Pearl (Pippin's sister), though the Tooks tried to keep the matter within the family. At the celebration of Ferumbras' accession the displeasure and regret of the family was formally expressed by the exclusion of Pearl from the ceremony and feast; but it did not escape notice that later (after a decent interval) she appeared in a splendid necklace of her name-jewels that had long lain in the hoard of the Thains.

Customs differed in cases where the 'head' died leaving no son. In the Took-family, since the headship was also connected with the title and (originally military) office of Thain,86 descent was strictly through the male line. In other great families the headship might pass through a daughter of the deceased to his eldest grandson (irrespective of the daughter's age). This latter custom was usual in families of more recent origin, without ancient records or ancestral mansions. In such cases the heir (if he accepted the courtesy title) took the name of his mother's family though he often retained that of his father's family also (placed second). This was the case with Otho Sackville-Baggins. For the nominal headship of the Sackvilles had come to him through his mother Camellia. It was his rather absurd ambition to achieve the rare distinction of being 'head' of two families (he would probably then have called himself Baggins-Sackville-Baggins) : a situation which will explain his exasperation with the adventures and disappearances of Bilbo, quite apart from any loss of property involved in the adoption of Frodo.

I believe it was a moot-point in Hobbit lore (which the ruling of Mayor Samwise prevented from being argued in this particular case) whether 'adoption' by a childless 'head' could affect the descent of the headship. It was agreed that the adoption of a member of a different family could not affect the headship, that being a matter of blood and kinship; but there was an opinion that adoption of a close relative of the same name87 before he was of age entitled him to all privileges of a son. This opinion (held by Bilbo) was naturally contested by Otho.

There is no reason to suppose that the Stoors of Wilderland had developed a strictly 'matriarchal' system, properly so called. No trace of any such thing was to be found among the Stoor-element in the Eastfarthing and Buckland, though they maintained various differences of custom and law. Gandalf's use (or rather his reporter and translator's use) of the word 'matriarch' was not 'anthropological', but meant simply a woman who in fact ruled the clan. No doubt because she had outlived her husband, and was a woman of dominant character.

It is likely enough that, in the recessive and decadent Stoor-country of Wilderland, the women-folk (as is often to be observed in such conditions) tended to preserve better the physical and mental character of the past, and so became of special importance. But it is not (I think) to be supposed that any fundamental change in their marriage-customs had taken place, or any sort of matriarchal or polyandrous society developed (even though this might explain the absence of any reference whatever to Smeagol-Gollum's father). 'Monogamy' was at this period in the West universally practised, and other systems were regarded with repugnance, as things only done 'under the Shadow'.

I actually started this letter nearly four months ago; but it never got finished. Shortly after I received your enquiries my wife, who had been ill most of 1958, celebrated the return of health by a fall in the garden, smashing up her left arm so badly that she is still crippled and in plaster. So 1958 was an almost completely frustrated year, and with other troubles, and the imminence of my retirement involving many rearrangements, I have had no time at all to deal with the Silmarillion. Much though I wish to do so (and, happily, Allen and Unwin also seem to wish me to do).

[The draft ends here.]

215 To Walter Allen, New Statesman (drafts)

[Tolkien was asked to contribute to a symposium to be published in a Children's Book Supplement of the New Statesman. He was told: 'The kind of questions we should hope you would consider are : how far do you write with a specific audience in mind, i.e. how do you feel writing for children differs from writing for adult readers ? To what extent do you feel that writing for children satisfies a need in yourself, for example, by expressing a side of you repressed in ordinary life or by the exigencies of writing for adults? How do you see the relation between The Hobbit and The Fellowship of the Ring [sic] ? Are you conscious of a didactic purpose, and if so, how do you construe it?']

[Not dated; April 1959.]

Dear Mr Allen, I am very sorry, but I shall not be able to take pan in the symposium. I have only recently returned from convalescence after an operation, and am faced with much neglected work. Term begins on April 24.

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