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From The Sunday Times

April 8, 2007

What took them so long?

Thirty years after his death, Tolkien has produced a brand-new novel — with a little help from his son. Could this great myth bring readers back to Middle-earth?

Bryan Appleyard

This is, as Tolkien’s grandson Adam has put it, the “director’s cut” of The Children of Hurin — though I am not sure if the director in question is father or son.

Yet the very fact that this is how the book has emerged points to one of the most revealing oddities of Tolkien’s work. He was not, primarily, a novelist, and, as AN Wilson has suggested, not really a writer. The task he set himself was to create the world, Middle-earth, that preceded ours. He did so through maps, etymologies, invented species — primarily elves and orcs — and vast and often indecipher-ably complex genealogies. From this mountain of curious invention, the books emerged. But they were only ever fragments of the whole. Reading Tolkien, one is perpetually aware of a vast back story that will probably never be completely knowable, because, as a whole, it resided only in Tolkien’s head. The novels, in other words, were byproducts of a much larger project.

The Wilson charge that Tolkien was not really a writer will horrify millions, but he had a point. Tolkien’s style — indeed, his entire approach — was derived from English narrative poems such as Beowulf and Gawain and the Green Knight, from the Norse sagas and, especially in the case of this latest book, from Wagner. These were tales of heroism and magic, of absolute values, of the last things. The obvious approach for a contemporary writer who wishes to retrieve such forms is to update their style and, perhaps, set them in a contemporary context. This is emphatically not what Tolkien set out to do. He wanted to recreate their world and their language, only marginally adjusted for modern ears. A sentence from the first paragraph of The Children of Hurin makes the point: “His daughter Gloredhel wedded Haldir, son of Halmir, lord of the men of Brethil; and at the same feast, his son Galdor the tall wedded Hareth, the daughter of Halmir.”

This is “retro” writing with a vengeance.

The modern mind is clearly being dragged by the scruff of its neck away from its literary comfort zone. Wilson’s point was that, having made this gesture, Tolkien’s interest in style ended. He compares him to Iris Murdoch: “Actually, Murdoch and Tolkien had this in common, though they could hardly be more different in other respects: like Murdoch, Tolkien did not worry about ‘style’ at all, simply charging on, where The Lord of the Rings was in question, with his sub-William Morris prose.”

This is exactly right. Years ago, I gave up on The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit precisely because the prose seemed to be all surface, with none of the deeper currents that make good or great writing. My childhood hunger for fantasy had been fed by the wit, elegance and power of TH White’s wonderful novel sequence The Once and Future King. After that, Tolkien seemed thin and frequently prissy, in a tweedy, donnish kind of way. I was entirely in sympathy with the remark of one Hugo Dyson, on listening to Tolkien reading from The Lord of the Rings: “Not another f***ing elf.”

That said, The Children of Hurin is a different kettle of fish. I didn’t give up on it, primarily because an intense and very grown-up manner saves it from the failings of his other works. The prose is still more gesture than depth, but there is a real feeling of high seriousness. It is not a children’s story like The Hobbit, and it is much darker than The Lord of the Rings. This is Tolkien in Wagnerian mode. Indeed, it may be possible to say that it is echt Tolkien. The popularity of his other works may well have distracted him from the seriousness and intensity of his vision of Middle-earth. He was a devout Catholic, and although Christianity is not explicitly present, there is an unfolding drama of history and salvation throughout the work. This was a man who meant what he said. But, why? What did it all mean? The first and most obvious point to make is about context. Middle-earth was born in the dark days of the first world war, and The Lord of the Rings was written during and in the aftermath of the second. It would be absurd to see the evil lords Morgoth and Sauron as the Kaiser and Hitler; indeed, Tolkien always denied any allegorical intention. Nevertheless, his dreams of ancient, epic struggles between good and evil do feel like a way of making sense of the meaning-less, globalised slaughter of the 20th century.

There is a further twist to this. Tolkien is conventionally seen as an antimodernist figure. He disliked technology, and his pursuit of the ancient seems to echo that of the preRaphaelites and the gothic fantasist Augustus Pugin, designer of the Palace of Westminster.

This may be seen as escapism, a rejection of modernist engagement with the present and the future, but I’m not sure this is quite fair. Compare, for example, Tolkien’s project with two of the greatest works of modernist literature. James Joyce’s Ulysses tells the story of the ordinary life of a Dublin day as a recapitulation of the legend of the wandering Greek hero. TS Eliot’s The Waste Land is a mythological panorama, drawing on the tales of the past to cast devastating light on the condition of the present, the whole thing haunted by the spectre of mental breakdown.

In other words, though utterly different (and much greater artists), these writers were doing something similar to Tolkien: trying to cast light on the present by adapting the tales and mythologies of the past. Tolkien’s project was, indeed, more like simple escapism — his past was, after all, entirely his own invention — but that does not diminish its significance as a prime symptom of the modern condition.

In fact, in view of the sales and the global cultural impact of Tolkien’s tales of Middle-earth, it would be insane to attempt to diminish its significance. These books have plainly struck a contemporary nerve. There is a need for, not fantasy, exactly — both Christopher and Lee agree that they do not want Tolkien to be cosily confined to the fantasy genre — but for stories that seem better, grander, bigger and stranger than the drab narratives of the mere present. As The Lord of the Rings was in the midst of its rise up the global bestseller lists, the board game Dungeons & Dragons, first sold in 1974, was sweeping fetid undergraduate bedrooms. Today, it would be similarly fantastic computer games such as World of Warcraft. Magic, in an age of disbelief, endures in curious interstices of the contemporary.

In addition, both the Star Wars films and the Harry Potter books confirm the contemporary longing for the grand and magical narrative. Glaurung the dragon sounds remarkably like Jabba the Hutt, and Turin’s talking sword could belong to Harry. There seems to be a need, across all modern cultures, for the story that transcends time and space, that, by escaping the particulars and compromises of the present, directly addresses the ultimate issues of life. If tweedy Tolkien raises our eyes above the mundane with his headlong, gestural prose and wild mythologies, then who am I to complain? Anyway, as a book, not just a fragment of a project, The Children of Hurin, in its own dotty but also awe-inspiring way, works.

Six thousand years before Bilbo Bag-ginsfound the ring of Sauron, Turin and Nienor were born to Hurin, called the Steadfast, lord of Dor-lo-min, husband of Morwen. Turin waged war against Morgoth and slew Glaurung, the first of the dragons of Morgoth. But . ..

No, I’d better not go on. The plot of JRR Tolkien’s The Children of Hurin is about to thrill and intrigue millions. It has an initial print run of 500,000 worldwide, but that will be just the beginning. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings has sold 150m copies — 50m of those since Peter Jackson’s films were released. Another 50m copies of other Tolkiens, primarily The Hobbit, have also been sold. It is safe to say that the “great tale” of Turin is about to become a global myth.

The book has been retrieved by Tolkien’s son Christopher from his father’s assorted writings. It was begun in 1918, but never formally organised into a novel. Christopher has now done this, using, it is said, only his father’s words, with few grammatical changes. In theory, this raises the possibility of the retrieval of other great tales from this period — The Fall of Gondolin, Beren and Luthien has been suggested, and The Lay of Leithian — but, in practice, none of these seems to be in the complete, though dispersed, state of The Children of Hurin. This will probably be the last finished Tolkien tale.

The timing is significant. The films fundamentally changed the status of the books. As Alan Lee, the illustrator of The Children of Hurin and Oscar-winning art director of the three movies, tells me, there is something literal about film. In designing for Jackson, he found himself having to flesh out every nuance. Whereas Tolkien might sketch in a page of prose, the modern cinema audience wants the whole thing on screen. Furthermore, a generation of Lord of the Rings fans was created — but not necessarily Tolkien readers. The emphasis had shifted from the books.

This seems, at least in part, to explain the timing of The Children of Hurin. Christopher first told David Brawn, publishing director of HarperCollins, about the book two years ago, when the film fuss was ready to die down. It was, Brawn believes, a clear attempt to return his father’s work to the printed page. And, indeed, for Lee, it has been a chance to escape the literalism of the movies and to get back to his haunting, suggestive and very English fairy-tale style.

A new posthumous Tolkien is a risk, however. In 1977, the publication of The Silmarillion was criticised because it included interpolations by Christopher. The charge was that the estate was exploiting the legacy. It was lampooned as “The Sell-a-Million”. The implication was that Tolkien was becoming a brand rather than an author, a process surely accelerated by the films. On the other hand, it is the job of literary executors to find good unpublished material. If Christopher has, indeed, done no more than string together a coherent story from his father’s prose, I can’t see much of a problem. He has done only what his father intended.

The Children of Hurin by JRR Tolkien is published on April 16 (HarperCollins £18.99)

www.bryanappleyard.com

I really enjoyed it, the story really wraps up nicely and leaves you guessing to the end, even though the book blatantly points out that turin will not escape his curse many times throughout the book. Very clever and a much more enjoyable and less taxing way to learn the history of middle earth than reading the simarillion!

Danny Wright, Sheffield,

I simply stand astounded that anyone would choose Tolkien's prose style as a point of attack (or prefer White's writing to Tolkien's) -- there's not much to say, I suppose, beyond "de gustibus non disputandum est."

I suppose it goes without saying that I think is prose style is beautiful, even enchanting; to say that he disregarded it as an issue in his own writing is, well, just wrong. He obviously had a keen awareness and complete command of his prose style, as is clearly demonstrated in most any passage of dialogue; the "Council of Elrond" is especially demonstrative. If you can't bring yourself to read it, at least read Shippey's analysis of it in _Author of the Century_.

Oh well.

Jeremy Trabue, Portland, Oregon, USA

I can see why some may view Tolkien's prose as having "none of the deeper currents that make for good...writing": certainly, as with much of the ancient literature he loved, there is an air of cool detachment, no matter how intense the subject matter. Yet somehow, by virtue of the very "rightness" of the concepts themselves (which Tolkien distills so masterfully in a way quite different from the ancients), something wells up as it were from under the surface of this cool, detached prose to create a singularly compelling and unified entity of narrative and language. Today we are accustomed to writing which evokes the emotions far more directly than does Tolkien's; hence the magical sense it creates as we see for ourselves that its impact is more than the apparent sum of its parts. The sense of wonder which lies at the very heart of Tolkien's muse finds a powerful analogue in the delivery itself-- and I cannot view this as a weakness.

Ben Shute, Wilmington, DE, USA

Back on the Wagner - Finnish- Icelandic thing. Tolkien's material derives from older myths, but his treatment is like that of the Kallevala and Wagner - nineteenth-century injections of relevant meanings into the old stories. Making a myth express ones present-fay concerns is a very nineteenth century thing to do (Idylls of the King, Sohrab & Rustum, etc.), and maybe Tolkien goes down badly with twentieth-century critics because his technique is so old-fashioned, while we fans love it for the content. Did you realise, for example that the use of Bilbo and the other hobbits as reader-surrogates with modern perception guiding us into the alien cultures of elves and dwarves, etc. comes ´straight from Walter Scott?

Philip, Stockholm , Sweden

To say Tolkien is being "Wagnerian" is really missing the point and ignorant to the influences on both men which is the writings of northern literature.

This story and indeed Tolkiens whole mythology is very heavily influenced by the myths of the North, and in this case especially the Sigurd story of Norse mythology and the Finnish epic poem the Kallevala.

It's fair to say that Wagners Ring cycle is wholly based on the Sigurd legend also.

So of course, they share similar themes.

But Tolkien and Wagner have absolutely nothing in common apart from this point.

Wagner and Tolkien may seem similar but in fact, its the source material that ellicits such comparison.

Tolkien was not a fan of Wagner nor is he being "Wagnerian" but merely reflecting his love and understanding of Northern Mythology.

Dave Cox, Aylesbury,

What I hope is that "The Children of Hurin" will not only inspire young readers to partake of more Tolkien (and I'm sure the film has achieved that, as they did for a friend who made the startling move from "Star Wars" tie-in novels to "The Hobbit" and then the entire LOTR trilogy), but to also compel them to devour great works such as Malory's "Le Morte d'Arthur", Alfred, Lord Tennyson's "Idylls of the King", and even Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales" (with a recommendation for the easily-digested transliterated version, edited by my friend, Prof. Michael Murphy). There is a vast wealth of literary treasure out there, and the style of "The Children of Hurin", conveniently boosted by its solid connection with the popular contemporary LOTR films is a nice introduction to grasping and enjoying a form of prose narrative that is essentially archaic to the modern reader, but in this case, certainly not tedious.Tolkien's story-telling gift is a gift to the current generation.

R. Schreiber, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, NY USA.

If I understand you correctly when you say that you "gave up on The Lord of the Rings," meaning you didn't finish the book, then how can you judge it? I hope that you aren't going by the Peter Jackson movies: they have little left of the rich characters or meaning. If you read a book only looking at the surface you're not going to see the subtleties.
Childish? Eowyn refuses to show weakness to the world as she succumbs to despair, until all she hopes for is a death in battle. The hobbits return home, expecting to go back to find The Shire the way they left it. They find that some of their neighbors have, in greed or fear, helped make it into essentially a police state. Their friends and family have been jailed. I thought of these examples in about five seconds. Do they seem childish, or too light-hearted?
You gave "Children of Hurin" a try; that's good. Now, please, take a closer look at "Lord of the Rings."

L. Wygant, Minneapolis,

Your review made me feel like I had been trapped in an elevator with a know it all school boy intent on proving how clever he was, facts be damned. Needless to say I was glad to get out.

I couldn't decide whether this was a review on The Children of Hurin or a list of all the other books you ever read that were 'cleverer'. ;-)

Having read your entirely too clever review I think I shall curl up next to the fire, and go back to my Tolkien, thank you very much.

Dillon, Lismore, Australia

<i>He has done only what his father intended.</i>

How can anyone claim to know that a dead person wanted unless they have that person's last will in writing? One can argue that Christoper is honoring his father's legacy, one can also argue that he is profiteering from it, but without written proof it is a fallacy to argue that he is executing his father's last wishes.

You dishonor the dead by putting words and desires into their mouths and hearts.

Tian Hodge, Ellicott City, Maryland

I strongly disagree what you said about Tolkien not being a great writer-- I find myself immersed in his land and am very amazed by the depth of his creative world of MIddle-earth that he had so thoughtfully created. No other book has influenced me so much and i don't think any will.
Yes, the movies might have made him a "brand" but i feel like the movies were only an introduction to the works of this brilliant author.
Tolkien used his philological background and his fascination with ancient tales very well and I see no problem with his writing style being thus influenced.
As to allegorical claims, which author CANNOT be influenced by the events of his/her life?
The main themes that draw millions to Tolkien's work is loyalty, determination, sacrifice, love, heroism-- these ideas transcend any century because they are so important and applicable to our everyday lives.

What makes Tolkien an influential and great writer are the themes and the reality that he has so infused in his tales.

Kal, New York,

"...one of the most revealing oddities of Tolkien’s work. He was not, primarily, a novelist, and, as AN Wilson has suggested, not really a writer."

I don't see how it's odd that he wasn't primarily a novelist. Neither was Harper Lee - she wrote one great novel. Does that make her odd, too?

How is Tolkien is not "really" a writer? Hundreds of thousands of words in books seem to qualify him as a writer. 4 novels seems to qualify him as a writer. All that world-creating was done primarily through writing down words on paper, which, to my reasoning at any rate, qualifies him as a writer. The fact that he also used maps, etymologies, and other tools to create his worlds does not disqualify him from being "really" a writer.

N Scott, Seattle,

Since I edited four of William Morris' most Tolkien-like tales for publication, I take exception to that "sub-Morris prose" remark. Morris and Tolkien share a similar talent that Tolkien's friend C. S. Lewis noted. Both give you "geography" rather than "landscape. You feel you are walking through the land rather than merely observing it. When the ground begins to rise, your breathing becomes labored. When a chill wind blows, you shudder.

But Tolkien understood that an epic must focus on one great theme. Morris' tales are cluttered with fair maidens--his heroes can't enter a wood without encountering one. The result is distraction. In The Well at the End of the World, one maiden must be killed simply so another can enter the plot. Tolkien knew better and braved the wrath of feminists by giving his women cameo appearances.

--Michael W. Perry, editor of More to William Morris & On the Lines of Morris' Romances, author of Untangling Tolkien

Mike Perry, Seattle, WA, USA

People who could not finish reading Lord of the Rings because they found it to lack depth should realize that writing reviews of Tolkien's works just makes them look foolish. I understand the attempt to 'distance' this new book from Tolkein's other stories to appeal to a new audience, but disparaging the original audience is rather disingenuous. Tolkien most certainly did 'update' his stories. He did not give them modern settings nor did he tell them in a modern style....but he infused the characters with a dignity and gave their lives a meaning that is sorely lacking in (for instance) the Tale of Kullervo that serves as the model for Turin and Neinor. I suppose "purged them of the gross" is how he put it.

MithLuin, Baltimore, MD,

D&D isn't a board game either but the point remians the same...

Nick, Melbourne, Australia

To say that Tolkien is not "really" a writer reminds me of the essentialist feminists in the 1980s who claimed that Margaret Thatcher was not "really" a woman.

David Doughan, London,

My comments grew a little long to post here, so I've put them up at my site: http://wormtalk.blogspot.com/2007/04/children-of-hrin-or-tolkien-scholars.html

Short version: too many unquestioned assumptions in this article (not to mention the inaccuracies noted above).

Michael Drout, Dedham, MA, USA

This is a well-intentioned review, and the comparison of Tolkien's aims with those of Joyce and Eliot is perceptive and right on the money, but in other ways the writer is unfortunately misinformed on several counts. The influence is Finnish, not Wagnerian, as Turin is drawn from a specific section of the Finnish Kalevala, including the dark tone and (specifically) the talking sword. To cite A.N. Wilson's dictum that Tolkien was "not really a writer" because he created a larger mythological back story (all of it written, by the way), is for both the reviewer and Wilson to put writers into a very small pigeon-hole. To accuse Tolkien of not worrying about style but simply charging in with sub-William Morris prose is (again for both Wilson and the reviewer) to ignore the carefully-drawn distinctions among various characters' speech patterns from kings to orcs (and has either of these guys read the Gollum passages?) and dramatic the use of contrasting high and low styles.
Enough said

Verlyn Flieger, Silver Spring, USA

This article, like many others, completely overlooks the fact that the forthcoming book is NOT a new novel, but a new edition. Different versions of the story have been published in The Silmarillion, The Unfinished Tales and various volumes of the History of Middle-earth, and the new book is very likely to follow or reproduce one of those.
The Lay of Leithian _is_ about Beren and Luthien, and once again, several versions of it have been in print for decades. The same goes for Fall of Gondolin.

Nicole, Cambridge, UK

The marvel of J. R. R. Tolkein and J, K. Rowling is that they got children reading again - away from screens to use their own imagination again. Something a lot of children had forgotten how to do. I hope this new book has the same impact. children need to read to grow.

Sue, Brixham, England