
Arts
An
interview with JRR TRolkien
First broadcast in
January 1971
T: ...long before I wrote The Hobbit and long before I wrote this I had
constructed this world mythology.
G: So you had some sort of scheme on which it was possible to work?
T: Immense sagas, yes ... it got sucked in as The Hobbit did itself,
the Hobbit was originally not part of it at all but as soon as it got
moving out into the world it got moved into it's activities.
G: So your characters and your story really took charge.
T: [lights pipe]
G: I say took charge, I don't mean that you were completely under their
spell or anything of this sort...
T: Oh no no, I don't wander about dreaming at all, it isn't an
obsession in any way. You have this sensation that at this point A, B,
C, D only A or one of them is right and you've got to wait until you
see. I had maps of course. If you're going to have a complicated story
you must work to a map otherwise you can never make a map of it
afterwards. The moons I think finally were the moons and sunset worked
out according to what they were in this part of the world in 1942
actually. [pipe goes out]
G: You began in '42 did you, to write it?
T: Oh no, I began as soon as The Hobbit was out - in the '30s.
G: It was finally finished just before it was published...
T: I wrote the last ... in about 1949 - I remember I actually wept at
the denouement. But then of course there was a tremendous lot of
revision. I typed the whole of that work out twice and lots of it many
times, on a bed in an attic. I couldn't afford of course the typing.
There's some mistakes too and also [relights pipe] it amuses me to say,
as I suppose I'm in a position where it doesn't matter what people
think of me now - there were some frightful mistakes in grammar, which
from a Professor of English Language and Lit are rather shocking.
G: I hadn't noticed any.
T: There was one where I used bestrode as the past participle of
bestride! [laughs]
G: Do you feel any sense of guilt at all that as a philologist, as a
Professor of English Language with which you were concerned with the
factual sources of language, you devoted a large part of your life to a
fictional thing?
T: No. I'm sure its done the language a lot of good! There's quite a
lot of linguistic wisdom in it. I don't feel any guilt complex about
The Lord of the Rings.
G: Have you a particular fondness for these comfortable homely things
of life that the Shire embodies: the home and pipe and fire and bed -
the homely virtues?
T: Haven't you?
G: Haven't you Professor Tolkien?
T: Of course, yes.
G: You have a particular fondness then for Hobbits?
T: That's why I feel at home... The Shire is very like the kind of
world in which I first became aware of things, which was perhaps more
poignant to me as I wasn't born here, I was born in Bloomsdale in South
Africa. I was very young when I got back but at the same time it bites
into your memory and imagination even if you don't think it has. If
your first Christmas tree is a wilting eucalyptus and if you're
normally troubled by heat and sand - then, to have just at the age when
imagination is opening out, suddenly find yourself in a quiet
Warwickshire village, I think it engenders a particular love of what
you might call central Midlands English countryside, based on good
water, stones and elm trees and small quiet rivers and so on, and of
course rustic people about.
G: At what age did you come to England?
T: I suppose I was about three and a half. Pretty poignant of course
because one of the things why people say they don't remember is - it's
like constantly photographing the same thing on the same plate. Slight
changes simply make a blur. But if a child had a sudden break like
that, it's conscious. What it tries to do is fit the new memories onto
the old. I've got a perfectly clear vivid picture of a house that I now
know is in fact a beautifully worked out pastiche of my own home in
Bloomfontein and my grandmother's house in Birmingham. I can still
remember going down the road in Birmingham and wondering what had
happened to the big gallery, what happened to the balcony. Consequently
I do remember things extremely well, I can remember bathing in the
Indian Ocean when I was not quite two and I remember it very clearly.
G: Frodo accepts the burden of the Ring and he embodies as a character
the virtues of long suffering and perseverance and by his actions one
might almost say in the Buddhist sense he 'aquires merit'. He becomes
in fact almost a Christ figure. Why did you choose a halfling, a hobbit
for this role?
T: I didn't. I didn't do much choosing, I wrote The Hobbit you see ...
all I was trying to do was carry on from the point where The Hobbit
left off. I'd got hobbits on my hands hadn't I.
G: Indeed, but there's nothing particularly Christ-like about Bilbo.
T: No...
G: But in the face of the most appalling danger he struggles on and
continues, and wins through.
T: But that seems I suppose more like an allegory of the human race.
I've always been impressed that we're here surviving because of the
indomitable courage of quite small people against impossible odds:
jungles, volcanoes, wild beasts... they struggle on, almost blindly in
a way.
G: I thought that conceivably Midgard might be Middle-earth or have
some connection?
T: Oh yes, they're the same word. Most people have made this mistake of
thinking Middle-earth is a particular kind of Earth or is another
planet of the science fiction sort but it's just an old fashioned word
for this world we live in, as imagined surrounded by the Ocean.
G: It seemed to me that Middle-earth was in a sense as you say this
world we live in but at a different era.
T: No ... at a different stage of imagination, yes.
G: Did you intend in Lord of the Rings that certain races should embody
certain principles: the elves wisdom, the dwarves craftsmanship, men
husbandry and battle and so forth?
T: I didn't intend it but when you've got these people on your hands
you've got to make them different haven't you. Well of course as we all
know ultimately we've only got humanity to work with, it's only clay
we've got. We should all - or at least a large part of the human race -
would like to have greater power of mind, greater power of art by which
I mean that the gap between the conception and the power of execution
should be shortened, and we should like a longer if not indefinite time
in which to go on
knowing more and making more. Therefore the Elves are immortal in a
sense. I had to use immortal, I didn't mean that they were eternally
immortal, merely that they are very longeval and their longevity
probably lasts as long as the inhabitability of the Earth. The dwarves
of course are quite obviously - wouldn't you say that in many ways they
remind you of the Jews? Their words are Semitic obviously, constructed
to be Semitic. Hobbits are just rustic English people, made small in
size because it reflects (in
general) the small reach of their imagination - not the small reach of
their courage or latent power.
G: This seems to be one of the great strengths of the book, this
enormous conglomeration of names - one doesn't get lost, at least after
the second reading.
T: I'm very glad you told me that because I took a great deal of
trouble. Also it gives me great pleasure, a good name. I always in
writing start with a name. Give me a name and it produces a story, not
the other way about normally.
G: Of the languages you know which were the greatest help to you in
writing The Lord of the Rings?
T: Oh lor ... of modern languages I should have said Welsh has always
attracted me by it's style and sound more than any other, ever though I
first only saw it on coal trucks, I always wanted to know what it was
about.
G: It seems to me that the music of Welsh comes through in the names
you've chosen for mountains and for places in general.
T: Very much. But a much rarer, very potent influence on myself has
been Finnish.
G: Is the book to be considered as an allegory?
T: No. I dislike allegory whenever I smell it.
G: Do you consider the world declining as the Third Age declines in
your book and do you see a Fourth Age for the world at the moment, our
world?
T: At my age I'm exactly the kind of person who has lived through one
of the most quickly changing periods known to history. Surely there
could never be in seventy years so much change.
G: There's an autumnal quality throughout the whole of The Lord of the
Rings, in one case a character says the story continues but I seem to
have dropped out of it ... however everything is declining, fading, at
least towards the end of the Third Age every choice tends to the
upsetting of some tradition. Now this seems to me to be somewhat like
Tennyson's "the old order changeth, yielding place to new, and God
fulfills himself in many ways". Where is God in The Lord of the Rings?
T: He's mentioned once or twice.
G: Is he the One?...
T: The One, yes.
G: Are you a theist?
T: Oh, I'm a Roman Catholic. Devout Roman Catholic.
G: Do you wish to be remembered chiefly by your writings on philology
and other matters or by The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit?
T: I shouldn't have thought there was much choice in the matter - if
I'm remembered at all it will be by The Lord of the Rings I take it.
Won't it be rather like the case of Longfellow, people remember
Longfellow wrote Hiawatha, quite forget he was a Professor of Modern
Languages!