What Makes a Myth-Maker?

 “Blessed are the myth-makers with their rhyme of things not found within recorded time.” - J.R.R. Tolkien, Mythopoeia

In class, we discussed the question of English mythology and what Tolkien was trying to achieve through his writing.  In his letter to Milton Waldman, Tolkien writes that his many stories developed separately, and ultimately the links between them emerged and created the world we know today.  In particular, he wrote that “always I had the sense of recording what was already ‘there’, somewhere: not of ‘inventing’” (Letters, 145).  This idea that his stories are not truly original and rather were recordings of a mythology that was already out there made me want to take a closer look at some of the many storytellers Tolkien has given us.  I believe that they are, in some ways, reflections of himself and may grant us some insight into his own aims as a storyteller himself.  

Let us take Tom Bombadil, for example.  His stories hold a great power over the hobbits.  His manner of storytelling is manic, “sometimes half as if speaking to himself, sometimes looking at them suddenly with a bright blue eye under his deep brows.  Often his voice would turn to song, and he would get out of his chair and dance about” (Lord of the Rings, 161).  In particular, this style of speaking to himself, as if in a daze, is curious.  It seems as though he is not telling his stories for the entertainment of the hobbits, as he sometimes appears to forget that they are there altogether.  His stories are instead a way to answer the hobbits’ many questions and “as they listened, they began to understand the lives of the Forest, apart from themselves, indeed to feel themselves as the strangers where all other things were at home” (Lord of the Rings, 161).  Tom, great myth-maker that he is, draws the hobbits into his tale and places where they are strangers, but simultaneously tells them of the things they are to encounter on their journey and helps them understand the world they are about to enter.  

This is what Tolkien does for us.  We become absorbed into his world of Middle-Earth, a world in which we do not belong, and yet somehow we emerge with a greater understanding of our own journeys.  This is, after all, a history course.  We can see it in our discussion of how we each found Middle-Earth.  YPL studied medieval history and emerged with a greater understanding of not only Tolkien’s work, but why it calls to him.  Tolkien’s invention of Elvish inspired LN to study linguistics.  As a writer and prospective Creative Writing major, GE is inspired by Tolkien and the world he recorded for us.  We are all a testament to the fact that great storytellers are not just those who spin fantastic tales, but spin those tales so that we, the audience, might better understand the world around us and our place in it.

Finally, I want to conclude with a discussion of the concept of the elf-friend and how it relates to great storytelling.  The elf-friend draws the connection between our primary world and the Faërie world.  We see many elf-friends in the Lord of the Rings, from Sam, Frodo, and Tom Bombadil to Tolkien himself.  However, I was most fascinated by the one Tolkien introduces to us in Smith of Wootton Major, which I had never read.  It tells the tale of a smith who swallows a fay-star as a child, which eventually appears on his forehead, though it is written that few people in the village notice it.  Instead, “some of its light passed into his eyes; and his voice, which had begun to grow beautiful as soon as the star came to him, became ever more beautiful as he grew up.  People liked to hear him speak, even if it was no more than a ‘good morning’” (Smith of Wootton Major, 22).  However, while the most important effect of the fay-star was that it granted the smith access to the Faery world, he only ever told few people of his adventures, except his family.  Similarly, when he decides to give the fay-star away, Alf reveals that it was the smith’s grandfather who first brought it from Faery and Alf was the only person who knew that truth.  The secrecy around and impact of the fay-star emphasizes the link between great storytelling and world connecting.  Ignorant of the presence of the star, the villagers loved to hear the smith speak.  We can imagine how he would have captivated an audience if he ever shared his stories, given the effect the fay-star had on his voice over time.  It is reminiscent of the impact of Tom Bombadil’s storytelling, which leaves the hobbits in a daze, with no concept of how much time has passed.  

This exploration leads me to the same conclusion we reached in class: that Tolkien himself is the ultimate elf-friend, mythmaker, storyteller, whatever term suits your fancy.  In his writing, he bridges the gap between Middle-Earth and our own world, just as Tom Bombadil spins tales to inform the hobbits of world far away and yet very near, just as the smith probably would if he had chosen to share his stories with the villagers.  Anyone who doubts this, has only to revisit our discussion of how we all found Middle-Earth and ourselves in it.  - JMR