I have been ill, worry and overwork mainly, but am a good deal recovered; and am at last able to take some steps to see that at least the overwork, so far as it is academic, is alleviated. For the first time in 25 years, except the year I went on crutches (just before The Hobbit came out, I think), I am free of examining, and though I am still battling with a mountain of neglects, out of which I have just dug a good many letters from George Allen and Unwin, and with a lot of bothers in this time of chaos and ‘reconstruction’, I hope after this week actually to – write. For one thing, I shall not be left all alone to try and run our English School. I have ceased to be the Professor of Anglo-Saxon. I have removed to Merton, as the Merton Professor of English Language and Literature: Professor Wrenn, from King’s College, London, is coming in October to take Anglo-Saxon off my shoulders; and we are about to elect another Merton professor (of modern literature). It ought to be C. S. Lewis, or perhaps Lord David Cecil, but one never knows.
But I did not begin this letter primarily to talk about myself. I wanted to say first how sorry I am that I did not, as I intended, write as soon as ever I heard, to congratulate you on your own honour, which gave me very great pleasure. Also I very much want news of Rayner. I hope earnestly that it is good, though one is still hesitant to ask news of sons. But my Christopher, who transferred to the Fleet Air arm, and is still technically in the Navy, has gone back this term to Trinity; and I wondered if there is any chance of Rayner returning soon. I should very much like to see him again. . . . .
I do not know whether David Severn still wants to look at Farmer Giles. In case he does, I am sending it now, after more than a year’s delay. If I could have a little leisure, I could add a few things of the same sort, still not finished. But Niggle has never bred any thing that consorts with himself at all.
I do not know whether any more information about so literally ‘promising’ and not performing an author will interest you at all. But I made a very great effort to finish the Hobbit sequel, and chapters went out to Africa and back to my chief critic and collaborator, Christopher, who is doing the maps. But I failed. Troubles and ill health became too thick. I shall now have to study my own work in order to get back to it. But I really do hope to have it done before the autumn term, and at any rate before the end of the year. Though I wonder if you will find any paper, even supposing that the work commends itself.
I have, by the way, published a story in verse1 in the Welsh Review of Dec. 1945; am about to publish a much expanded version of an essay on Fairy Stories, originally delivered as a lecture at St Andrews, in a memorial volume to the late Charles Williams; and I have in a fortnight of comparative leisure round about last Christmas written three parts of another book,2 taking up in an entirely different frame and setting what little had any value in the inchoate Lost Road (which I had once the impudence to show you: I hope it is forgotten), and other things beside. I hoped to finish this in a rush, but my health gave way after Christmas. Rather silly to mention it, till it is finished. But I am putting The Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit sequel, before all else, save duties that I cannot wriggle out of.
My very best wishes.
Yours sincerely,
J. R. R. Tolkien.
106 From a letter to Sir Stanley Unwin
30 September 1946
[Allen & Unwin expressed enthusiasm for Farmer Giles of Ham, but asked if Tolkien could provide other stories to make up a sufficiently large volume.]
I should, of course, be delighted if you see your way to publish ‘Farmer Giles of Ham’. . . With leisure I could give him company, but I am in a tough spot academically, and see no hope of leisure until the various new professors come along. I could not promise to complete anything soon. At least I suppose I could, but it would be difficult – and really the Hobbit sequel is so much better (I think) than these things, that I should wish to give it all spare hours. I picked it up again last week and wrote (a good) chapter, and was then drowned with official business – in which I have waded since your kind letter came 10 days ago.
I have never tried illustrating ‘Farmer Giles’ and do not know of any one.
107 From a letter to Sir Stanley Unwin
7 December 1946
[On the subject of a German edition of The Hobbit.]
I continue to receive letters from poor Horus Engels1 about a German translation. He does not seem necessarily to propose himself as a translator. He has sent me some illustrations (of the Trolls and Gollum) which despite certain merits, such as one would expect of a German, are I fear too ‘Disnified’ for my taste: Bilbo with a dribbling nose, and Gandalf as a figure of vulgar fun rather than the Odinic wanderer that I think of. . . . .
I am shortly moving to a small house (3 Manor Road)2 and so hoping to solve the intolerable domestic problems which thieve so much of the little time that is left over. I still hope shortly to finish my ‘magnum opus’: the Lord of the Rings: and let you see it, before long, or before January. I am on the last chapters.
108 From a letter to Allen & Unwin
5 July 1947
[Allen & Unwin had decided to publish Farmer Giles of Ham as a separate volume.]
I am now sending back (a week late) under separate cover the MS. of Farmer Giles of Ham, revised for the press. I have as you will see gone through it carefully, making a good many alterations, for the better (I think and hope) in both style and narrative. . . . .
You will note that, whoever may buy it, this story was not written for children; though as in the case of other books that will not necessarily prevent them from being amused by it. I think it might be as well to emphasize the fact that this is a tale specially composed for reading aloud: it goes very well so, for those that like this kind of thing at all. It was, in fact, written to order, to be read to the Lovelace Society at Worcester College; and was read to them at a sitting.
For that reason I should like to put an inscription to C. H. Wilkinson1 on a fly-leaf, since it was Col. Wilkinson of that College who egged me to it, and has since constantly egged me to publication.
109 To Sir Stanley Unwin
[Tolkien lunched with Unwin in London on 9 July, and agreed that Rayner Unwin should see Book I of The Lord of the Rings which was in ‘fair’ typescript. On 28 July, Tolkien was sent Rayner’s comments; Rayner wrote: ‘The tortuous and contending currents of events in this world within a world almost overpower one. . . . The struggle between darkness and light (sometimes one suspects leaving the story proper to become pure allegory) is macabre and intensified beyond that in “Hobbit”. . . . Converting the original Ring into this new and powerful instrument takes some explaining away and Gandalf is hard put to it to find reasons for many of the original Hobbit’s actions, but the linking of the books is well done on the whole. . . . Quite honestly I don’t know who is expected to read it … If grown ups will not feel infra dig to read it many will undoubtedly enjoy themselves. . . . The proof reader will have to correct a number of omitted changes from “Hamilcar” to “Belisarius”.’ Despite these criticisms and hesitations, Rayner judged the book to be ‘a brilliant and gripping story’. Tolkien wrote the following reply on 31 July, but did not send it until 21 September, for reasons given in the letter of that date.]
31 July 1947
Merton College, Oxford
Dear Unwin,
I will certainly address you so, cum permissu, though it hardly seems a fair exchange for the loss of ‘professor’, a title one has rather to live down than to insist on.
I was surprised to get the instalment of The Ring back so quickly. It may be a large book, but evidently it will be none too long in the reading for those who have the appetite. And it was very kind of you to send me Rayner’s impressions. Any criticism from outside the small circle that has known the thing as it has grown (and becoming familiar with its world have long ceased to be overpowered) would be welcome; but this critic is worth listening to.
I must now wait with patience until he has seen more. I will send another i
nstalment at the end of August. And I have now another urgent reason, in addition to the clamour of the circle, for finishing it off, so that it can be finally judged.
I return Rayner’s remarks with thanks to you both. I am sorry he felt overpowered, and I particularly miss any reference to the comedy, with which I imagined the first ‘book’ was well supplied. It may have misfired. I cannot bear funny books or plays myself, I mean those that set out to be all comic; but it seems to me that in real life, as here, it is precisely against the darkness of the world that comedy arises, and is best when that is not hidden. Evidently I have managed to make the horror really horrible, and that is a great comfort; for every romance that takes things seriously must have a warp of fear and horror, if however remotely or representatively it is to resemble reality, and not be the merest escapism. But I have failed if it does not seem possible that mere mundane hobbits could cope with such things. I think that there is no horror conceivable that such creatures cannot surmount, by grace (here appearing in mythological forms) combined with a refusal of their nature and reason at the last pinch to compromise or submit.
But in spite of this, do not let Rayner suspect ‘Allegory’. There is a ‘moral’, I suppose, in any tale worth telling. But that is not the same thing. Even the struggle between darkness and light (as he calls it, not me) is for me just a particular phase of history, one example of its pattern, perhaps, but not The Pattern; and the actors are individuals – they each, of course, contain universals, or they would not live at all, but they never represent them as such.
Of course, Allegory and Story converge, meeting somewhere in Truth. So that the only perfectly consistent allegory is a real life; and the only fully intelligible story is an allegory. And one finds, even in imperfect human ‘literature’, that the better and more consistent an allegory is the more easily can it be read ‘just as a story’; and the better and more closely woven a story is the more easily can those so minded find allegory in it. But the two start out from opposite ends. You can make the Ring into an allegory of our own time, if you like: an allegory of the inevitable fate that waits for all attempts to defeat evil power by power. But that is only because all power magical or mechanical does always so work. You cannot write a story about an apparently simple magic ring without that bursting in, if you really take the ring seriously, and make things happen that would happen, if such a thing existed.
Rayner has, of course, spotted a weakness (inevitable): the linking. I am glad that he thinks that the linking has on the whole been well done. That is the best that could be hoped. I have done the best I could, since I had to have hobbits (whom I love), and must still have a glimpse of Bilbo for old times’ sake. But I don’t feel worried by the discovery that the ring was more serious than appeared; that is just the way of all easy ways out. Nor is it Bilbo’s actions, I think, that need explanation. The weakness is Gollum, and his action in offering the ring as a present.1 However, Gollum later becomes a prime character, and I do not rely on Gandalf to make his psychology intelligible. I hope it will come off, and Gandalf finally be revealed as perceptive rather than ‘hard put to it’. Still I must bear this in mind, when I revise chapter II for press: I intend, in any case, to shorten it. The proper way to negotiate the difficulty would be slightly to remodel the former story in its chapter V. That is not a practical question; though I certainly hope to leave behind me the whole thing revised and in final form, for the world to throw into the waste-paper basket. All books come there in the end, in this world, anyway.
As for who is to read it? The world seems to be becoming more and more divided into impenetrable factions, Morlocks and Eloi, and others. But those that like this kind of thing at all, like it very much, and cannot get anything like enough of it, or at sufficiently great length to appease hunger. The taste may be (alas!) numerically limited, even if, as I suspect, growing, and chiefly needing supply for further growth. But where it exists the taste is not limited by age or profession (unless one excludes those wholly devoted to machines). The audience that has so far followed The Ring, chapter by chapter, and has re-read it, and clamours for more, contains some odd folk of similar literary tastes: such as C. S. Lewis, the late Charles Williams, and my son Christopher; they are probably a very small and unrequiting minority. But it has included others: a solicitor, a doctor (professionally interested in cancer), an elderly army officer, an elementary school-mistress, an artist, and a farmer.2 Which is a fairly wide selection, even if one excludes professionally literary folk, whose own interests would seem to be far removed, such as David Cecil.
At any rate the proof-reader, if it ever comes to that, will, I hope, have very little to do. I was bowed under other work and had no time to look over the chapters I sent in. Belisarius must have been scribbled as a suggestion over the name Hamilcar3 in a few cases. The choice matters little, though the change had a purpose; but at any rate I hope that most detestable slovenliness of not keeping even a minor character’s name firm will not disfigure the final form. Also: it is inevitable that the knowledge of the previous book should be presumed; but there is in existence a Foreword, or opening chapter, ‘Concerning Hobbits’. That gives the gist of Chapter V ‘Riddles in the Dark’, and retells the information supplied in the first two pages or so of the other book, besides explaining many points that ‘fans’ have enquired about: such as tobacco, and references to policemen and the king (p. 43),4 and the appearance of houses in the picture of Hobbiton. The Hobbit was after all not as simple as it seemed, and was torn rather at random out of a world in which it already existed, and which has not been newly devised just to make a sequel. The only liberty, if such it is, has been to make Bilbo’s Ring the One Ring: all rings had the same source, before ever he put his hand on it in the dark. The horrors were already lurking there, as on page 36, and 303;5 and Elrond saw that they could not be banished by any White Council.
Well, I have talked quite long enough about my own follies. The thing is to finish the thing as devised and then let it be judged. But forgive me! It is written in my life-blood, such as that is, thick or thin; and I can no other. I fear it must stand or fall as it substantially is. It would be idle to pretend that I do not greatly desire publication, since a solitary art is no art; nor that I have not a pleasure in praise, with as little vanity as fallen man can manage (he has not much more share in his writings than in his children of the body, but it is something to have a function); yet the chief thing is to complete one’s work, as far as completion has any real sense.
I am deeply grateful for being taken seriously by a busy man who has dealt and deals with many men of greater learning and talent. I wish you and Rayner a good voyage, successful business, and then great days among the Mountains.6 How I long to see the snows and the great heights again!
Yours sincerely,
J. R. R. Tolkien.
Talking about revising The Hobbit. Any alteration of any radical kind is of course impossible, and unnecessary. But there are still quite a number of misprints in it. I have twice, I think, sent in lists of these, and I hope they have been corrected this time. Also there are minor errors, which the researches of fans have revealed, and some closer attention of my own has discovered. I wish there could be a chance of putting them right. I enclose a list again.
110 From a letter to Allen & Unwin
20 September 1947
[Tolkien’s American publishers, the Houghton Muffin Co., applied to Allen & Unwin for permission to use several riddles from The Hobbit in an anthology of poetry. Allen & Unwin suggested to Tolkien that ‘the riddles were taken from common folk lore and were not invented by you’.]
As for the Riddles: they are ‘all my own work’ except for ‘Thirty White Horses’ which is traditional, and ‘No-legs’. The remainder, though their style and method is that of old literary (but not ‘folk-lore’) riddles, have no models as far as I am aware, save only the egg-riddle which is a reduction to a couplet (my own) of a longer literary riddle which appears in some ‘Nursery Rhy
me’ books, notably American ones. So I feel that to try and use them without fee would be about as just as walking off with somebody’s chair because it was a Chippendale copy, or drinking his wine because it was labelled ‘port-type’. I feel also constrained to remark that ‘Sun on the Daisies’ is not in verse (any more than ‘No-legs’) being but the etymology of the word ‘daisy’, expressed in riddle-form.
111 From a letter to Sir Stanley Unwin
21 September 1947
I wrote to you on the last day of July, but I put the letter aside, as it seemed too much of a pother about my works. . . . .
Hyde (or Jekyll) has had to have his way, and I have been obliged to devote myself mainly to philology, especially as my colleague from Liège,1 with whom I had been embarking on ‘research’ before the war, was staying here to help to get our work ready for press.
Now I am about to go off again for a few days on college business. It is my turn to go with the Warden and Bursar to inspect estates in Cambridge and Lincolnshire. So rather than leave your letter of July 28 unanswered any longer, I send along herewith my original and now rather tattered answer. With it I send Rayner’s comments; also some notes on The Hobbit; and (for the possible amusement of yourself and Rayner) a specimen of re-writing of Chapter V of that work, which would simplify, though not necessarily improve, my present task.
I have tried unsuccessfully to squeeze in, in the intervals of ‘research’ and journeys, some revision of Book II of The Lord of the Rings. But, as I should like very much to benefit by Rayner’s reading (and yours, if you have any time), I send it along under separate cover, with its many defects of detail. But Rayner may note, if he has time to bother with this packet, that Chapter XIV has been re-written, to match the re-writing of Chapter II ‘Ancient History’ which he has read. Chapter II is now called ‘The Shadow of the Past’ and most of its ‘historical’ material has been cut out, while a little more attention is paid to Gollum. So that if XIV seems repetitive, it is not actually so; practically nothing now in XIV will appear in II.
The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien Page 17
