The great myths

So, back from Greece – miss me at all? Even notice I was gone? Two weeks not blogging and I have to tell you, I missed it a little. Because the last post was a little shorter than usual, I take the liberty of making this one a little longer (yeah, I can hear the groans). But, I have loved this topic most since I was a little child and I rarely write on it.

While I was overseas my friends’ 10 year old son was grilling me on mythology, which made me think, what are my favorite mythological tales (let’s call them the “ten greatest” for fun). Admittedly, I am biased towards Greek and Norse Mythology, but even I don’t know what the list will bring yet as I start. Here, we go – in reverse order, and excluding myths associated with the Bible, and Homer, both of which I like to treat separately. I can only say so much about them as myths can be long and complex, but it is just to see if you are interested in them:

No 10: The little elephant headed boy.

Hindu mythology is as incredibly rich and imaginative as Greek or Norse mythology and loaded with more gods than either of those two branches which are much more familiar to us and infused in our culture (the days of the week, the planets, and so on). I won’t try a synopsis here because it would take to long, but the three main gods are Brahma – which at least in some sense is equivalent to what we call God, as he is comprised of everything, Vishnu, the creator, whose avatars or incarnations provided millennia of heroic figures, and Siva or Shiva, the destroyer, both of whom are aspects of Brahma. You may be familiar with the figure of the dancing Shiva.

Many of the Hindu gods had wives or consorts and Shiva had one too by the name of Parvati or Parwati (they all have a bunch of names, actually, depending on what country you are in). Actually, Parvati was reincarnated from Siva’s first wife, Sati, who has the distinction of giving her name to the Hindu custom of widows throwing themselves on their husbands’ burning funeral ghats. Parvati was sometimes said to be Vishnu’s sister and symbolized the energy in the universe.

Anyway, one day our heroine is at home taking a shower (how godlike) when she realizes there aren’t any servants at home to guard her, so she creates a boy out of her soap and sends him out front. The boy was Ganesha, sometimes called Ganapat(h)i. Sure enough, Shiva comes home and Ganesha won’t allow him in the house. After trying to reason with him, Shiva loses his temper and cuts off Ganesha’s head with a trident he carries around with him on which the three points have sharp blades.

Naturally, when Parvati comes out and sees her son dead, she’s not too pleased. Unfortunately, Shiva has quite a way with his trident and the boy’s head went pretty far. So, after realizing they weren’t going to recover it, the servants were ordered to go take the head of the first creature they came too, which, turned out to be that lovable pachyderm, the elephant.

Of course, reading it for the first time, I was thinking, why didn’t she just make another head out of soap, but it’s a myth. So, now, Ganesha, one of the most celebrated of Hindu gods, has an elephants head. He doesn’t seem to mind, even seems quite proud of it and his corpulent figure.

There are actually a few versions of how Ganesha got his head, a number of which have to do with demons and some of which I know by heart, but space is precious and you’ll just have to read up on it yourself. 

9. Who lets himself get shut up in a chest? Really.

I always felt bad for the Egyptian god Osiris, although his own stupidity or trusting nature led to his problems. We learn most of his tale from Plutarch, who supposedly got it from ancient Egyptian texts. Osiris was the ruler of Egypt and the son of a god. His wife was, as was typical back then, also his sister, namely Isis, whose influence has been felt in other mythologies.

Another god, Seth, has Osiris over for dinner, and tricks Osiris into being shut up in a chest which is promptly hurled into the river. Hence, the Egyptians referred to him as the drowned god. Isis is heartbroken and goes in search of him. Osiris comes to rest in Byblos (now in Lebanon) where a sycamore tree forms around him. When the local king decides to have the tree chopped down to use for a column, out pops his body. Isis happens to come upon it and takes him with her.

But, because nothing can be easy when there are villains about, Seth finds the coffin and chops it up into a gazillion pieces. But, Isis, as indomitable s they come, once again tracks down all the pieces and puts him together, with the unfortunate exception of his, you know, thingee, which was eaten by a fish.

Magically Isis restores him to life (which makes you wonder why she didn’t just do that in the first place) and conceives a child (again magically because of the hungry fish). Osiris goes off to become the judge of the dead in the underworld, but is avenged by his magically created son, Horus, who kicks Seth and his crony’s collective asses, losing an eye in doing so.

Osiris has been at times compared to Jesus, having died and been resurrected and the theme of a son avenging his father has lasted millennia, most delightfully in modern times in one of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride.

No 8: Half man/half beast

One of my favorite mythological creations is Enkidu, from the Epic of Gilgamesh, somewhere from 4-5000 years old now. As I wrote in depth of this epic on 7/11/07, and I am fairly lazy, I’ll quote from there rather than rewrite:

“The hero, Gilgamesh, is a young but powerful king, mostly divine but also part human. He is purely mortal though and a tyrant.

In order to combat him, the people pray to their great sky god, Anu, for some relief and he answers their call by creating a half man/half animal named Enkidu, who possesses the strength of many wild beasts.

Despite his prowess, he is easily tamed. A local trapper who learned about Enkidu from his son advises his son to tempt him with a temple harlot. He follows through, and Enkidu immediately has sex with the girl, named Shamat, which drains him, Samson-like, of much, but not all, of his great strength.

Not surprisingly, he is disturbed by his loss of vigor and the fear he now causes in the animal kingdom. Shamat then takes him to Uruk (the city) to introduce him to Gilgamesh.

In the meantime, Gilgamesh is having troubling dreams in which he is forced by his mother to compete with a meteorite and an axe (which he “embraces as he would his wife” -- hmmm). He learns that this means he will meet a man who will be a competitor but then help him accomplish great things.

Soon, Gilgamesh is at a wedding in the city. Rather than bring a gift, he claims his right of primacy, i.e., he may have sex with the bride before the husband (a right kings and rulers of many civilizations have claimed).

Even at this early time in civilization, this caused great unrest with the groom. Enkidu, who has been somewhat civilized by some shepherds, faces off against Gilgamesh to prevent his taking the bride.

They fight. Gilgamesh has almost met his match, but the hero must prevail, then as now, and Gilgamesh is the hero. Defeated, Enkidu pledges his undying support to him.

They become inseparable friends. . . .”

At the end of the day, it seems to me that Enkidu had more heroism in his pinky than the hero has in his whole body, but like in many buddy adventures, even in ancient Sumeria, his life is forfeit. I find Enkidu quite attractive for the loss of his natural self and his loyalty beyond death.

No. 7: The bear

His name was Beowulf – perhaps meaning the bee-wolf, an epithet for a bear (there are a number of other possibilities including Thor-Wolf and War-Wulf). He was likely entirely fictional, but it appears that much of the names and some other aspects are in fact taken from history. Tolkien, at one time the world's most reknowned expert on it (even before the Lord of the Rings, and he acknowledged Beowulf's influence on his own work), thought it was written in the 700s A.D., but other scholars believe it was as late as the 11th century. There is really only one original copy, mostly complete.

Not yet a king, Beowulf and his men, who are Geats, came to the aid of Hrothgar (“famous spear”), a Dane, when the monster, Grendel, a descendant of the accursed Cain, the son of Adam who slew his brother ("Am I my brother's keeper?") was terrorizing Hrothgar’s hall.

Showing no fear, Beowulf, stripping himself of armor and weapons, defeated the monster by ripping off his arm. Grendel fled home to his mother before dying, and she herself visited the hall the next night to take revenge. Beowulf tracked her to her lair in a pond and armed with a powerful sword given to him by a prior antagonist, dove down into the deeps to slay her. Holding his breath underwater was no problem for the bear. Earlier the story had been told of a swimming contest he had with a friend, that lasted days and which Beowulf lost, but only because he paused to fight and kill a few sea monsters.

Unfortunately, the famous sword he carried, Hrunting, which had never failed before – failed. It was useless against her. In trouble, Beowulf spots the sword of a giant in Grendel’s mother’s armory, and that does the trick.

Beowulf’s last great feat occurs when he is an old man and king of his own people. This time he must defeat a dragon. He is aided by one young man, and great as Beowulf is, he can not defeat the giant monster but at the cost of his own life. The courage and devotion of the young man is probably the most touching part of the story, as it is otherwise filled with arrogant men, like the protagonist himself.

Beware the recent animated film which featured Angelina Jolie as Grendel’s mother, as it takes great liberties with the story, although the dragon scene was rather remarkable and had me ducking in my seat.

No. 6: Siegfried/Sigurd

Two of the greatest tales I have ever read are the Nibelungenlied and the Volsunga Saga, the German and Norse versions, respectively, of the tale of a swashbuckler as great as Beowulf, Siegfried or Sigurd, prefiguring Beowulf, Tolkien’s Aragorn, and many other a hero. His tales are, naturally, too long to tell here, and there are too many forms, but, because it is convenient and I have it on hand, I shall use one which Edith Hamilton uses in her classic Mythology, by summarizing her summary.

Sigurd is a great hero who comes upon a ring of fire. Within it lies Brynhild, a Valkyrie, who being punished by Odin is put to sleep until she is awoken by a man whose courage has no parallel (hence the ring of fire). Siegfried leaps into the ring with his horse and awakens her. Realizing his prowess, she agrees to marry him. He leaves for a while at this point, the reason for which has never been clear to me.

Coming to the kingdom of Gunnar, he becomes fast friends with the royal family. The king’s mother desires that Sigurd marry her daughter Gudrun and bewitches him so that he forgets Brynhild. Then, to aid his friend Gunnar, Sigurd takes his form and repeats his effort to get into the ring of fire and claims Brynhild, who naturally thinks Sigurd has forsaken her, for Gunnar. However, he remains there for 3 days next to her, but lays his sword between the two of them.

He leaves again and, eventually, Brynhild, thinking Gunnar is Siegfried’s equal, marries him. She is somewhat content until one day when Siegfried’s wife reveals to her the truth and that it was Sigurd in Gunnar’s form that lay beside Brynhild, and is now married to her. Devastated, Brynhild tells Gunnar that Sigurd betrayed her and slept with her in the ring of fire. Gunnar has his little brother do Sigurd while he sleeps.

The dark deed does not go unpunished. Everyone suffers or perishes for it. I could have chosen the part of the myth concerning the dwarf’s gold, the dragon and the gods made so famous by Wagner’s Ring Cycle, but this will do. I cannot not recommend anything more passionately to a lover of tales than the Nibelungenlied or William Morris’ version of the Volsunga Saga, and Tolkien’s own retelling of Sigurd and Gudrun’s tale, released only last year by his son, was also quite fascinating.

5. A man and bull go into a maze

I just told the story of Theseus and the Minotaur last week, at least sort of, so I won’t repeat it. But, it ranks just below . . .

4. A tale of my favorite god . . .

. . . who happens to be Thor, the Norse god of thunder. I’ve written on Thor before – in fact on 11/2/06 I posted one of my all time favorite articles – A day of thunder and lightning, where I explain how, contrary to the opinion of pretty much everyone else in the world who might be interested in it, Santa Claus more closely resembles this Scandinavian muscle man than any other fictional creation. In fact, I’m sure of it.

At one time, before the appearance of Odin in Germany, Thor was top dog, much as the lightning hurler Zeus was tops in Greece. But, when followers of Odin came along Thor was tucked in as his son, and was no longer the chief god. I think it just made a better story, and Thor could be a bit of a knucklehead.

Most of what we know about these gods comes from two slender sources, what is known as The Elder Edda, a collection of poems, and the Prose or Younger Edda written by a Snorri Sturluson, a 12th-13th century Icelandic politician, historian and myth collector, who, like the Grimm Brothers much later, was trying to preserve his heritage (I wrote on the Grimm Bros. here on 11/7/09, and their own history might surprise you a bit).

My favorite tale about Thor comes on one of his travels with the evil Loki, but who there not the bad guy, as usual. After some strange adventures on the road, they came to the hall of one Utgard-Loki (who I'll call U-L here, and, yes, I know the names are similar; not a mistake – probably he represented some other aspect of Loki). Anyway, Loki was first challenged to an eating contest, and lost to one of U-L'smen. Then another of U-L’s men ran three races against a swift servant of Loki's, and beat him worse each time. Finally Thor was challenged to three contests – drinking – where he was unable to drain a goblet in three mighty gulps, then lifting U-L’s cat off the ground – he could only get one paw up, and last, a wrestling match with U-L’s step-mother, an aged woman – Thor was forced to one knee when the match was stopped.

The powerful Thor was humiliated, but then U-L confessed the next day that he had fooled them with magical spells. The retainer who beat out devoured Loki was fire itself; the impossibly fast runner was U-L’s thought. When Thor drank from the goblet, the other end was in the ocean and Thor drank so much of it he created what we call ebb-tide. When he thought he was lifting a cat, it was actually part of the Midgard Serpent (Thor's special enemy) which encircled the globe, and Thor had nearly lifted it to the sky. Last, when he wrestled the old woman, she was old age itself, and even Thor could not defeat her (Norse gods were not necessarily immortal, just immensely powerful beings, and could be killed as was the beloved Baldur in another classic tale).

Thor tried to bashl U-L with his great hammer, Mjolnir, but he disappeared, leaving Thor frustrated, a condition in which the incredibly strong but not all too bright hero-god sometimes found himself.

I always found Thor more endearing than his similar Greek counterpart, Herakles or Hercules, whose own tale though, must be ranked slightly higher.

But, first,

No. 3: The benefactor of man

Prometheus (whose name means to us – forethought) is one of the most fascinating characters in Greek mythology and I have an unprovable theory that he was more important before Homer and Hesiod wrote and perhaps even before the Greeks conquered the land that now bears their name. I suspect, like the other titans, he was an earlier god.

But, as he comes down to us, he was one of the giants or titans who ruled before the coming of the gods. When Zeus and the Olympians (and a host of monsters) dethroned them, it was Prometheus who also took the gods’ side and helped defeat the giants. Prometheus may have made humans of clay (but others say it was the gods) and Prometheus and his brother Epimetheus (afterthought) were charged with giving animals their characteristics. Epimetheus, naturally, not thinking ahead, handed everything out, and had nothing good to give man. Prometheus decided to give them the arts and also fire.

Prometheus is wise, perhaps even wiser than all-knowing Zeus, whom he fools (seems it wasn’t really that hard to fool the bearer of the lightning bolt though, as many do). But, Zeus is far more powerful. After Prometheus tricks him so that men get the good part of animal sacrifices (not so important to us, but a biggee tot he Greeks) and gives fire to men, Prometheus is chained to a rock upon Zeus’s command and a vulture appears everyday to eat his liver, which grew back every day (very similar to what the Norse gods did to Loki for a while).

Zeus sends Hermes to wrest Prometheus’ secrets from him but even the cleverest of the gods cannot get him to give up his secret of who shall come along to defeat Zeus. Prometheus would rather suffer.

One day while he is chained to the rock a creature appears. He recognizes her as Io (after whom is named the Ionian sea and the Bosphorous (cow crossing) between Asia and Europe in modern Turkey, who has her own sad tale. Once, she was desired by Zeus and to protect her from Hera’s wrath, Zeus changed her into a cow. Hera didn’t want her changed back, so she set a bodyguard, Argus, with a hundred eyes, to watch her. Zeus again sent Hermes to fix his problems. Hermes, disguised as a mortal, played his pipe and then told Argus boring stories, watching some eyes fall asleep, but not others. Finally, he managed to put them all to sleep and slew him. But, it was to no avail as Hera sent a gadfly to endlessly sting Io and drive her mad.

When Io and Prometheus meet they share their sad tales like two lonely souls might over a cup of coffee today, or on the phone or by email. Prometheus though can see the future and he tells her that she will remain plagued for a while, but one day reach the Nile where she will be restored by Zeus and bear his child, whose bow-stringing descendant would free him.

That bow-stringer was Herakles.

No. 2: The guy with the club

Thor had his hammer and perhaps that was modeled on the great club of Herakles, the quintessential Greek demi-God hero who Herodotus tells us was first known to the Egyptians. There are many tales of the mightiest of demi-gods, and there are continuous re-tellings even down to this day, including a few years ago, including Hercules, The Legendary Journeys, for a while the most popular show in the world (and from which spun off Xena, which surpassed it), a mini-series, a Disney movie, an Elton John song, and so on. He is also an icon for strength.

Two parts of his story come to mind immediately. One is the story of his birth. Like many others who were sired by Zeus, Hera hated him and tried to prevent his birth. Failing, she sent two snakes to the infant’s crib which he strangled all by lonesome.

But best known of Herakles’ tales are his famous labors, which he undertakes upon another Hera trick. You can go to Wikipedia or endless other sites for the list, but he mostly subdues a monster in each labor (and does one heck of a cleaning job in another). My favorite, though, is the stealing of golden apples which bestow immortality from the garden of Hesperides, three nymphs who dwell in the west, either Spain or Morocco, but which was really the property of Hera.

Herakles goes on the journey and first kills the giant, Antaeus, who draws his strength from the earth, whcih gave birth to him.  Herk can only kill him after he lifts him off the ground and gives him a bear hug. Some say Herk stole the apples himself, but the better tale has him getting the titan Atlas to do the deed, as he was related to the nymphs. Herk has to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders while Atlas goes on the mission. He comes back, but decides not to take the world back (this was his punishment for opposing Zeus when the gods took over). Herk agrees to continue, having no choice, but asks if Atlas can take over for just a bit while he better adjusts his clothing. And this the idiot titan does, only to have Herk walk away with the Apples.

Herk dealt nicer with Atlas’ brother, Prometheus, and freed him from his bonds, one of the few acts of mercy you can find in Greek mythology. If anyone deserved it, it was Prometheus.

Unlike Thor, for whom there are really only a handful of tales, Herakles is subject of many, and he is often plagued by or driven mad by Hera. At one point he kills his beloved wife and his own children and another time his best friend. When he dies, Zeus makes him immortal, driving scholars crazy ever after that Odysseus meets his shade in the underworld, which, if he's a god . . . .

No doubt, Herakles was the greatest of Greek heroes, and perhaps the greatest hero the world has ever known – sort of the Superman of mythology. But, as you can tell, he is not my number one choice, who is, however, his ancestor and also half brother (also fathered by Zeus), by the name of . . .

1. Perseus

In some ways Perseus' tale seems more Norse than Greek with its magic weapons and witchlike women and a dragon-like creature. However, it would be more intelligent to say Perseus' tale was a forebearer of the Germanic myths.  Althoguh Perseus precedes Herakles in mythological time, for some reason his story is less well known and told through the ages, even if he is still legendary (Perseus, for example, is the name of the wonderful website I visit which translates word by word Greek and other classics).

His story is one of the most riveting in all mythology, which great images and drama. I rank it ahead of the labors of Hercules for one simple reason. I like the story better.

Danae (wish I knew how to make an umlaut on the e), Perseus' mother, was the daughter of the king of Argos (whose unimpressive ruins I just visited in Greece), was imprisoned by her father because it was foretold her son would dethrone him (how many times was that plot device used by the ancients? Yawn). Zeus, not one to miss a beautiful woman, visits her as a shower of gold, one of the best visual images from all mythology.

When Perseus is born, he and his mother are thrown into the sea in a chest (sound like Osiris. It is another constant mythological theme, although usually without the mother along). They are rescued, but a king who also would like to be with the beautiful Danae tricks him into volunteering to go on a mission to kill Medusa, one of the Gorgon sisters, who has snakes for hair and can turn a man to stone with her gaze. Yikes.

But, Perseus has help. He steals the one eye shared by three other witchy sisters named the Graea, and returns it only when they tell him where to find the Hesperides (yes, same ones from the Herakles' tale), from whom he gets a magic sack to hold Medusa’s head. The gods give him a magic sword, Hades’ helmet of invisibility, a magic mirror, and winged sandals so he can fly.

Finding the Gorgon’s cave, he safely views Medusa in Athena’s mirror and cuts off her head. From it spring Pegasus, the winged horse, and Chrysaor (either a hero or winged boar, depending on your source), whose parents were Medusa and Poseidon (at the time, she didn’t have snake’s hair and was supposedly smokin’). When the two sisters chase him he dons the helm of invisibility and flies away.

On the way home, he rescues the princess Andromeda, who is chained to a rock, scheduled to be eaten by a sea monster as a sacrifice to Poseidon. At their marriage, he reveals Medusa’s head in order to turn his enemy to stone, a rather dramatic moment I am giving short shrift to here. Both Andromeda and he are eventually made into constellations (I’m guessing you have heard of the Andromeda galaxy). There are various endings to the tale of Perseus, none of which interest me like the other tales, but he likely founds the city-state of Mycenae, whose impressive ruins I just visited in Greece as well.

And that’s the list, sports fans. I realize I left out the tales of Daedalus, Pandora, the Golden Fleece, Ragnarok (the Norse Armageddon), Coyote and any of the billion other stories. Pick your favorite one I left out and if I agree with you, I will acknowledge it as I did when I left Rocky and Bullwinkle out of my top ten cartoon animals. What a stupid thing that was to do, and perhaps I blew it here too.

Fulfilling Edith Hamilton's prophecy: J.R.R. Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings

This article presupposes you’ve read The Lord of The Rings or at least seen the movies.

To the best of my memory I was taught to read from books written by two women. The first of these was Born Free by Joy Adamson and the second Mythology by Edith Hamilton. Adamson and Hamilton were both remarkable women and I will perhaps deal with them another day. I really just want to quote from Hamilton’s Mythology, published first in 1942 and still being re-published today. It might be the most popular guide to Greek and Roman Mythology out there, although Bullfinch’s might have something to say about that. It also has a short section at the end of the book on Norse mythology. Discussing the Elder Edda, which might very, very loosely be termed the Norse Bible, is this interesting, perhaps prophetic tidbit:

“The Elder Edda is much the more important of the two [eddas]. It is made up of separate poems, often about the same story, but never connected with each other. The material for a great epic is there, as great as the Iliad, perhaps even greater, but no poet came to work it over as Homer did the early stories which preceded the Iliad. There was no man of genius in the Northland to weld the poems into a whole and make it a thing of common beauty and power: no one even to discard the crude and the commonplace and cut out the childish and wearisome repetitions. There are lists of name in the Edda which sometimes run on unbroken for pages. Nevertheless the somber grandeur of the stories comes through in spite of the style. Perhaps no one should speak of ‘the style’ who cannot read ancient Norse; but all the translations are so alike in being singularly awkward and involved that one cannot but suspect the original of being responsible, at least in part. The poets of the Elder Edda seem to have had conceptions greater than their skill to put them into words. Many of the stories are splendid. There are none to equal them in Greek mythology, except those retold by the tragic poets. All the best Northern tales are tragic, about men and women who go steadfastly forward to meet death, often deliberately choose it, even plan it long beforehand. The only light in the darkness is heroism.”

Little did Hamilton seem to know as she wrote in the early 1940s, some linguistic genius, who did read ancient Norse and related languages, and was a renowned expert on Beowulf among other classics, was already writing such an epic. His name was John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. His masterpieces, The Hobbit and The Lord of the Ring as well as the less celebrated prequel, The Silmarillion, tells the tale of ancient mythological civilizations clashing, drawing out from this Oxford philogist breathtaking knowledge of his great loves – Norse mythology, his native England and numerous languages.

That this was Tolkien’s aim is made clear by Tolkien himself: “I have tried to modernize the myths and make them credible.” He succeeded wildly, and although it seems little known by many of his hundreds of millions of fans, he has given longer life to traditions that would be much less known in the world today were it not for his work, even though most people will never crack a binding on either Edda to read his main source.

There are endless books (not to mention webpages) on Tolkien and his work, and, many are interesting, although I have not yet found one that I would say was both comprehensive and delightful. The closest I’ve found yet are the 1969 (soon after Tolkien became celebrated) Tolkien: A Look Behind The Lord of the Rings by a not so good fantasy writer but better editor named Lin Carter, who died 20 years ago, and, a series of books by Tolkien’s own son, Christopher, which chronicle the history of the writing of the epic stories. Carter’s work deals more with Tolkien’s sources and predecessors and the son’s work with Tolkien’s own development of the books themselves. I would recommend Carter’s short book if you have mild interest in Tolkien’s influence and the development of fantasy, or, sitting in a library and skimming the growing list of Christopher’s Tolkien’s works. They are deliberately ponderous and repetitious, in his effort to be complete in showing how his father wrote these works from the early 1900s and constantly revised them, but contain much fascinating information. They are extremely worthwhile, but only for a real fan. But, I must admit, I have not read all the books out there on Tolkien and there may be some gems I have missed. I would also recommend the works of Tom Shippey, who followed Tolkien in the same chair at Oxford and worked with him.

Instead of writing an even remotely comprehensive account about LOTR, I have two propositions, each subjective and unprovable, but strongly felt by me. One, that the Lord of the Rings is the “best” book of the 20th century (obviously not my idea; not only has he topped many such polls, but, Tom Shippey already wrote J.R.R. Tolkien, Author of the Century, which makes the same point); but more so, two, the books are far deeper and operate on more levels than many fans suspect. Which reminds me of one of my favorite LOTR lines, spoken of Cirdan, the elf lord who waited by the Grey Havens to take home elves returning to the undying lands – “He saw farther and deeper than any in Middle-earth.” I have sometimes suspected that Cirdan was an avatar for Tolkien - not that he so intended -- seemingly sitting and watching the events of the Third Age of Middle Earth unfold, without participating, neither omniscient, nor ignorant, but more knowledgeable about what had and was going to transpire than any other of the wise.

I support my own two propositions as if they were one and break them down into arbitrary categories.

Popularity – Popularity does not itself make for a great work. The Harry Potter series, for example, is phenomenally popular, and I certainly enjoyed them, but there is no more historical or mythological depth to them than there is for Smurfs or Snuffleupagus. I cringe when they are mentioned in the same breath with Tolkien’s works, although they are both fantasy and deal with many of the same themes. I do not consider the Potter books great (although a lot of fun) unless you define it by popularity and financial success alone. Then it is the greatest, bar none, and we should probably forget Shakespeare too.

While popularity is not necessary for a book to be great, or, greatness automatic if it is popular, it certainly means something. People want to read it. And if people don't want to read it, it is much harder to call a book or author "the best." Tolkien’s works have been best sellers for nearly 50 years. They are read all over the world and in many different languages. They have spawned not only three of the most popular movies ever made, but inspired probably thousands of copycat novels, some bordering on plagiarism, by those who wanted to write their own tales of elves and dwarves. Not to mention, books commenting on Tolkien or his work have become a cottage industry. Help me with this, dear reader. Is there another 20th century author whose works have inspired so many others to write about him (note to idiots – Shakespeare and Dickens didn’t write in the 20th century)? Let me know. Maybe I’m missing someone. Perhaps we have to go back to Twain and Dickens to find any other modern author so seriously studied and written about. Anyway, I would hardly be alone in my belief that LOTR was the best book(s) of the last century, as poll after poll has shown Tolkien and his works in the English speaking world up at or near the top, even in this century.

LOTR has been rated in a number of polls as the best of various categories, particularly in the British Commonwealth. The London Times’ 50 greatest British authors since 1945 rated him sixth (although, other than George Orwell, I can’t fathom the top 5 – a poet, Philip Larkin, was first – critics know so little). Or take the Modern Library’s 100 best novels. It doesn't make the critic's list at all. But, LOTR is number 4 in the reader’s list. Since most books are written for readers, not critics, I take this as far more important. I snipped the following from Wikipedia, minus the links and footnotes:

“The Lord of the Rings became immensely popular in the 1960s and has remained so ever since, ranking as one of the most popular works of fiction of the 20th century, judged by both sales and reader survey. In the 2003 "Big Read" survey conducted by the BBC, The Lord of the Rings was found to be the "Nation's Best-loved Book". Australians voted The Lord of the Rings "My Favourite Book" in a 2004 survey conducted by the Australian ABC. In a 1999 poll of Amazon.com customers, The Lord of the Rings was judged to be their favourite "book of the millennium". In 2002 Tolkien was voted the 92nd "greatest Briton" in a poll conducted by the BBC, and in 2004 he was voted 35th in the SABC3's Great South Africans, the only person to appear in both lists. His popularity is not limited to the English-speaking world: in a 2004 poll inspired by the UK's "Big Read" survey, about 250,000 Germans found The Lord of the Rings to be their favourite work of literature.”

Probably one hundred and fifty million copies of LOTR have been sold since the early 1950s and another one hundred million copies of The Hobbit, making him either the first or second most read author ever before J.K. Rowlings (with modern populations and marketing, I wouldn’t know how to compare) – maybe Dickens has been read as much or more (and A Tale of Two Cities has sold more copies than even LOTR) but the numbers are comparable. Of course, none of this mentions the movies, seen by millions as well, and which gave the books a second life. As much as I enjoyed the movies, Peter Jackson could not bring into them some of the facets of the LOTR that make it so wonderful for me, as I discuss below.

Influence - If you go to the bookstore and flip through the fantasy aisle, you will be struck at how many publishers seek to use Tolkien’s name to puff their own artists ("The new Tolkien" – "The best since Tolkien" – "Tolkien’s heir") much like mystery writers are forever being compared with John LeCarre.

I am not suggesting that Tolkien invented the fantasy genre, or even what is commonly called "sword and sorcery." Far from it. He was writing out of a long tradition. He simply did it better than anyone else, fortified with his mastery of language and mythology. However, even his modernization of myth and attempt to make credible the Northern myths was not unique. For example, the multi-talented William Morris published The Well at the World’s End (1896) when Tolkien was a little boy. It deeply influenced him. One letter to his wife long before LOTR indicates he was attempting to write something along the lines of Morris’s work (indeed, Morris had a “Gandalf” and even a horse named “Silverfax,” just a shade away from Tolkien’s Shadowfax). Another legendary fantasy writer, Sir William Haggard Rider, wrote The Saga of Eric Brighteyes, a supercharged story which takes the best parts from Icelandic sagas and leaves the boring parts out. Tolkien acknowledged that Rider’s She had an influence on him. Rider and Morris are among my favorite writers of heroic fantasy and but two examples. In my opinion, though, there are few others worthy, and it is a genre that usually disappoints me, because the writing is neither drenched in history nor mythology, only the modern appearance of it, and often not even well written. Here’s my own very short list of the best works of “sword and sorcery,” which were not written by Tolkien:

- The Once and Future King ("TOAFK") by T. H. White. It can be found in a single volume, but has also been published as a trilogy. I recommend reading the first volume, The Sword and the Sorceror, in a solitary volume first, because of a wonderful chapter for some reason not included in the collection. And please do not read the posthumously published The Book of Merlin, which was god awful, and not in any real sense part of the story. Many years ago I thought TOAFK, based on the King Arthur legends, might be even better than Tolkien, but that was before I began to understood LOTR on some different levels. Although the TOAFK is well-known, and inspired a Disney film, I don’t believe it gets enough readership. Yet, in my opinion, it is almost to Harry Potter, what Longfellow is to Dr. Seuss.

- The Worm Ourobos by Eric Eddison. A riotous adventure story. The first 30 pages or so, until the Earthman gets to Mercury seemingly in a dream, should be browsed through and forgotten, just as the author then does. Eddison was a brilliant writer, and though the story is not mythologically based, it is so beautifully written, almost poetic prose, and so riveting a story, it is an exception to my general rule.

- The Face in the Frost by John Bellairs is an adult, but very light (and short) fantasy. It's hard to find and you may need to get it used. Very well done though, even if I would have preferred a different ending. When I lend it out I rarely get it back.

- Silverthorn, by John Myers Myers. This is one of my favorite historians (Western) and fiction writers who has somehow escaped great public notice. Silverthorn is a tour de force about a man who finds himself in the waters off of an island after a shipwreck and then in one historical or literary adventure after another. Again, I would have preferred a different ending, but it is so much fun guessing as to who the historical/literary figures are, that it will keep you rolling along. There are a number of websites that have made a project about figuring this out, because no one will know them all. You can just read it as a fun story though, even if you have no literary pretensions.

- The Arthurian Saga by Mary Stewart. Another King Arthur saga, it is totally different than White's books and you can read both with great pleasure. I have found I can read nothing else she wrote, although she is somewhat celebrated. But these books were sublime.

- Many works by William Haggard Rider, but if just one, then the aforementioned The Saga of Eric Brighteyes or The People of The Mist. Even before Edgar Rice Burroughs and his Tarzan, Rider specialized at taking English explorers and having them come upon adventure in lost African cities. Also great were She and King Solomon's Mines.

- Just about any of Robert Howard’s Conan the Barbarian stories or books or those of his puritan scourge, Soloman Kane (Howard is an author who I can credit this blog’s self-appointed critic-in-chief, Bear, with introducing me to when we were boys). The Schwarzenegger movies actually captured the spirit quite well, but Conan is fun and easy reading if you like the genre at all.

However, although he was working in a genre with predecessors, there can be no doubt that Tolkien’s influence has been greater than anyone else’s on fantasy or sword and sorcery writers. I can only think of one fantasy writer who may have close to having had similar influence to Tolkien, and that would be the short-lived Robert Howard, above mentioned, who had legions of followers. Still, when I think back on the fantasy novels I’ve seen on shelves for the past 30 years, there are far more who have followed or credit Tolkien than Howard (who, like Tolkien, actually created his own pseudo-world history, which he called the Hyperborian Age, loosely based on the ancient Europe, as was Middle Earth).

Critical reputation – One problem Tolkien faces, of course, is that some people and critics cannot see past fantasy and consider it a serious work of art. For some reason, painters can choose mythology or fantasy as their subject and no one has a problem with it. In fact, many of the greatest works of art have fantastic, legendary or mythological characters as their subject, but authors are not taken seriously if they indulge in it, at least not in modern times. Before Tolkien was famous, he was well known as a scholar in his own field. His 1936 essay/speech on Beowulf is still THE essay on that subject. He wrote therein as follows:

“Even to-day (despite the critics) you may find men not ignorant of tragic legend and history, who have heard of heroes and indeed seen them, who yet have been caught by the fascination of the worm. More than one poem in recent years (since Beowulf escaped somewhat from the dominion of the students of origins to the students of poetry) has been inspired by the dragon of Beowulf , but none that I know of by Ingeld son of Froda.”

I’m not a stuffy Oxford don, so, I can speak more frankly. Those who believe that great literature cannot be centered around fantasy figures are missing life’s great adventures. Fantasy is inspirational, whereas some of the more mundane characters of literature, however much great literary creations, just aren't. By the way, notice his reference to Froda. Sound familiar?

The dragon of The Hobbit is, of course, much inspired by Beowulf too. Just this decade has been found Tolkien’s own translation of Beowulf, complete with line by line notes, that I believe will be a great publishing success some day. Tolkien himself wrote “Beowulf is among my most valued sources.”

As many English professors don’t get fantasy, they don’t take LOTR seriously. But there are many, a growing number, who do and Tolkien scholarship has long been a serious endeavor for those who are not too smug or pretentious to read it. Scholarly titles are added each year. I’ve stopped trying to keep up because it would be taking up an entire new area of study.

Language – This is perhaps the essence of Tolkien’s work. At least, his work was for him a vehicle for his invented languages, languages based on his knowledge of Old English, Ancient Norse, Latin, etc. He was a world-class philologist or scholar of ancient texts. He was also benignly obsessed with his love of languages. Tolkien once wrote to his son, who had sent him some interesting historical tidbit, that he just couldn’t be that interested in history if the historical fact did not include something of linguistic merit. I too often find that knowing what words mean, or what place names mean, are the most interesting facets of history for me, although, unlike Tolkien, I find plenty of delight in history without it.

It is often said that Tolkien created several languages for LOTR, including two elvish, one dwarvish, the black speech of Mordor and the Common tongue spoken by seemingly all. This is a gross exaggeration in my opinion. He did create many words, alphabets, pronunciation guides and even grammar for some make-believe languages which are to some degree based on his own prolific knowledge of actual ancient languages, and which are, in some cases, quite beautiful. But, there is no actual lengthy work or even a real dictionary in any particular language. Perhaps, some enterprising artist will write one someday with the permission of the estate or when the copyright expires. Tolkien's books though, were about imaginary languages.

I hope I’m dead when new works of fiction based on Tolkien’s classic come out after the copyright expires, because it will hurt me to the core to see his great work raped and pillaged, even by generally good writers. If they are not as versed as he in the old languages, and have not mastered his archaic tone, plus, are brilliant writers themselves, they should not try. That whittles it down to pretty much nobody, but everyone from third graders to schlock adventure writers will jump in for sure - there's money to be made. Recently, Christopher Tolkien has released two works, one based on an uncompleted work of his father’s – The Children of Hurin, a tale which took place long before those of the Hobbit and LOTR, and based on The Silmarillion and unpublished works by his father. Just released is The Tale of Sigurd and Gudrun, a retelling of one of the great Northern Myths. I wonder how much is the father and how much of it is the son, although he is very careful to delineate in my experience, and I am not sure I can bear to read it. While Christopher is a gifted historian of his father, I am not sure critics should become co-authors and I might have preferred to read Tolkien’s unfinished, imperfect work. I should mention that Christopher is no kid – he’s 85 years old, a former Oxford scholar himself, and is suing New Line Cinema on behalf of the estate for 80 million pounds.

Nevertheless, Tolkien’s language play is a study in itself. The languages of Middle Earth are derived from Tolkien’s knowledge of Norse mythology and languages. Gandalf means “Magic” (or wand/staff) Elf.” His name, and the names of all the dwarves from The Hobbit come straight from a list in the Elder Edda. Incidentally in an earlier draft, the head dwarf of The Hobbit was Gandalf. Many of the riders of Rohan began their names with Eo-, and ancient English word (Eoh-) for a warhorse. Eowyn, for example, is an old English combination which could mean lover or joy of (war)horses. For LOTR fans, note that originally Tolkien thought it was she Aragon would love and possible marry, not Arwen. Eowyn’s brother, Eomer’s name comes straight out of Beowulf, as does Frodo (Froda), although he was originally written in as Bingo by Tolkien.

I am no master of Old English, but Orc is an Old English word for demon and is from Beowulf, Ent for Giant, Mordor from murder, Theoden a chief or leader, Saruman means man of skill or cunning. Edoras (the name for Theoden’s court) is from sheltering building and his golden hall, Meduseld, is also taken directly from Beowulf, and means ‘mead-hall’. Beorn means either warrior or, obviously, Bear. Hobbit was only recently found in an old and long list of names for little people, although Tolkien always said he invented it. No one thinks a man who delighted in taking his names straight from ancient literature as homage and an act of love would deny that particular one, particularly as it kept his books from initially being published in Germany, but he probably saw it and forgot. The list of words with real-world derivation seems endless and has been very well researched at this point. It would have been nice if the creator left us a full list, but such has not been reported.

Religion – Tolkien was a religious Catholic. The beginning of the universe and Middle Earth in The Silmarillion is a rewriting of Genesis. Tolkien’s Iluvatar or Eru is simply God, the Valar and Maia, his angels, cherubim, etc. Lin Carter, who I referred to above as one of the best authors about Tolkien’s great works, complained that there was not any religion among Tolkien’s people. I think he missed the point. Gandalf, Frodo and friends were the religion and the first three ages were the mythology – what existed in the world before the magic went out of it and the elves and magic returned to the West so that the Age of Man would begin. We have more evidence than my opinion. Gandalf, Tolkien wrote, was an incarnate angel. Frodo, who almost makes the ultimate sacrifice, and finally goes into the West, is clearly a Christ figure. As Stephen Greydanus points out in an excellent essay, Faith and Fantasy: Tolkien the Catholic, The Lord of the Rings, and Peter Jackson’s Film Trilogy, each of Gandalf, Frodo and Aragorn undergoes a Christ-like “death” and “rebirth.” Tolkien called his own works not only religious, but "Catholic"; and, he also said he owed much of Galadriel’s character to Mother Mary.

Mythology – This is inseparable from the language. I have already pointed out how Tolkien took names from the Elder Edda. Gandalf is the most obvious mythological character, being not only an incarnate angel, but also made in the “Odinic wanderer” archetype (says Tolkien). Of course, he also said that he was based on a painting of the spirit of England – but he can be derived from all these things and come out whole. If you are unfamiliar with Odin, the father of the Norse Gods, he was wisest, although unlike the Greek Zeus, not strongest, sacrificed much, invented magic, cared about humans, wore a hat and wandered through the world of men as an old man with a staff. Hard to miss the connection. The dwarves, the elves, the dragon, Middle Earth itself, Mirkwood, and many other features of LOTR and The Hobbit are all based on beings or creations from Northern mythology (although dragons are certainly a worldwide phenomena). However, all is not Norse. There is a mixture with Christianity, as I’ve said earlier. Sauron, and his former master, Melkor, are plainly versions of Lucifer, not Loki, although there were some elements of him in The Simarilion.

Writing style – LOTR in particular is filled with great phrases in dialogue, poetry, songs, description and narration. Tolkien meant it to be serious sounding, although it has its comic moments, and for adults. It was deliberately written in an archaic fashion. Neither Hemingway nor other modern writers could make a dent in Tolkien’s classicism.

Yet, Tolkien was a great writer, and if his genre required certain archetypes, he was a great writer around them. LOTR is a magical web woven with words, if archaic in tone. Tolkien, who worked on The Oxford English Dictionary, edited a Middle English Dictionary, was the translator of a number of works, including, famously, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and was a master of so many languages, was ideally suited for his task. Perhaps he was the only one so suited. There are too many wonderful lines and images to even begin summoning them here with any hope of comprehensive representation, so I will satisfy myself with these few, starting with two conversations between Frodo and Gandalf:

‘What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!’
‘Pity? It was pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity.’

Even better -

‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo.
‘So do I,’ said Gandalf, ‘and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.’

More poetic are the lines burned on the inside of the great ring -

'Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for the Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.'

And this brief poem describing one of the stories' protaganists –

'All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost,
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.'

In LOTR, Bilbo wrote that last poem for his friend, Aragorn (who in an earlier version was also a hobbit), but, Tolkien could go back to Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice - “All that glisters is not gold.” But, it was not original to Shakespeare either and variations were at least as old as the 15th century. Go to http://everything2.com/title/All%2520that%2520glitters%2520is%2520not%2520gold for an historical commentary on this phrase.

Tragic theme – LOTR is tragedy, not comedy. Deep down, although the heroes are triumphant, it is about loss - the loss of the world Tolkien had known in his youth, the triumph of the combustion engine over fire, of cars and trains over horses, roads over paths. When Gandalf and the elves return to the West over the sea, it is the end of the age of folk magic and simple wisdom and the beginning of the age of man, science and technology. Perhaps, indeed, Saruman triumphs after all. For Tolkien it was a great loss. I believe he would have been thrilled with the music from the movies that did a great job of capturing his work on film, but particularly with the song “Into the West” played over the credits, written by composer, Howard Shore, co-written and hauntingly sung by Annie Lennox. I hope to have it played at my funeral (seriously).

The feeling of loss is well in keeping with the Norse tradition and brings us back to the last two sentences of the quote from Edith Hamilton we started with: “All the best Northern tales are tragic, about men and women who go steadfastly forward to meet death, often deliberately choose it, even plan it long beforehand. The only light in the darkness is heroism.”

The Hobbit was already out a few years before Hamilton wrote those words, but either she didn’t read it, or it wasn’t serious enough, being a children’s story, to let her understand who Tolkien was and what he was doing. I have no idea if she ever read LOTR, which came out in the 1950s long before she died. But Tolkien and Hamilton were on the same page and I think he fulfilled her prophecy.