(Classical) Narratives of Decline in Tolkien: Renewal, Accommodation, Focalisation

The paper investigates Tolkien’s narratives of decline through the lens of their classical ancestry. Narratives of decline are widespread in ancient culture, in both philosophical and literary discourses. They normally posit a gradual degradation (moral and ontological) from an idealized Golden Age, which went hand-in-hand with increasing detachment of gods from mortal affairs. Narratives of decline are also at the core of Tolkien’s mythology, constituting yet another underresearched aspect of classical influence on Tolkien. Such Classical narratives reverberate e.g. in Tolkien’s division of Arda’s history into ages, from an idealized First Age filled with Joy and Light to a Third Age, described as “Twilight Age (…) the first of the broken and changed world” (Letters 131). More generally, these narratives are related to Tolkien’s notorious perception of history as a “long defeat” (Letters 195) and to that “heart-racking sense of the vanished past” which pervades Tolkien’s works – the emotion which, in his words, moved him “supremely” and which he found “small difficulty in evoking” (Letters 91). The paper analyses the reception of narratives of decline in Tolkien’s legendarium, pointing out similarities but also contrasts and differences, with the aim to discuss some key patterns of (classical) reception in Tolkien’s theory and practice (‘renewal’, ‘accommodation’, ‘focalization’)

The Throne of the King: The Throne Room in Minas Tirith and Late Antique Ruler Ideology

A conspicuous feature of Tolkien’s description of the city of Minas Tirith in The Return of The King is the depiction of two thrones in the Great Hall; one empty throne reserved for the king, and one seat for the steward of Gondor. This paper aims to ascertain the late antique and mediaeval sources of inspiration behind Tolkien’s creation of the throne room in Minas Tirith. As a starting point, we shall compare the setting of the two thrones in Minas Tirith with a motive in Christian iconography, the hetoimasia, and its architectural expression in the Chrysotriklinos, the throne room in the Byzantine Great Palace in Constantinople. Next, we shall show that Tolkien intentionally obscured his appropriation of the Byzantine throne room to create a multi-layered image of rulership, in accordance with his aesthetics of applicability and allegory. In conclusion, we shall formulate some remarks on the interpretation of the association between the Byzantine Chrysotriklinos and the Gondorian Great Hall. As a form of Tolkien’s literary process of sub-creation, the description of the throne room in Minas Tirith serves to emphasise the significance of The Return of the King as a retelling of Christ’s restoration of the fallen world, placing the work of Tolkien in the context of a strong personal Catholic piety

From Pyramids to Obscure Gods: The Creation of an Egyptian World in Persona 5

Within Persona 5’s modern Tokyo setting, imagined worlds are created that represent the cognitive processes of various characters. These ‘palaces’ allow the player to explore locations far removed from the game’s real-world, contemporary backdrop. One episode creates an ancient Egyptian world. This article examines how this world has been produced and the different transmedial tropes and other influences that its developers have drawn upon. Many references are recognisable to a broad audience (pyramids, gods, hieroglyphs), while others reflect Japanese pop-cultural trends (in various manga and anime), including the mention of an obscure Egyptian god, Medjed. The intentionally fictitious nature of these ‘palaces’ means that the Egypt that appears in this game is not bound by the need to replicate an ‘accurate’ landscape. Instead, the developers were free to design a gamescape that combines multiple and diverse receptions of ancient Egypt

Platonic Tripartition and the Peoples of Middle-Earth

Tolkien’s The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings employ traditional races from fairy tales: elves, men and dwarves.  These peoples are differentiated principally by their dominant desires, but also by their speech, diet, and realms.  I argue that these three races are significantly inspired by the three aspects that characterize the Republic’s tripartite soul—logistikon, thumoeides, and epithumetikon—along with their respective principal desires: desire for truth, greatness, and material goods.  For Tolkien, therefore, these races have a corporate or political psychology that explains who they are as peoples in the history of Middle-earth.  I offer a comprehensive view of the major races, connecting the dwarves with the appetitive artisans of the Republic, humans with the honour- and glory-seeking auxiliaries, and elves with the ruling guardians.  This treatment explains the artisanal dwarves, as well as the battle-loving men (and women) of Rohan and Gondor, and the nostalgic, ‘anamnetic’ condition of exile that distinguishes the elves.  Indeed, the condition of elves in many descriptions recalls a Platonic philosopher returned to the Cave, as well as the Neo-Platonic sagacity pictured in the biographies of Plotinus and Proclus

Tolkien’s Ithilien and the Landscape of the Ancient Mediterranean

This paper examines the intertext between Tolkien’s Ithilien episode in Two Towers and artistic presentations of plants in the art and literature of Augustan Rome. We argue that the evident ‘superbloom’ depicted in the ekphrasis of the flora of Ithilien recalls both Vergilian botanical adynata (especially in the Georgics) and Roman wall paintings of the Augustan period

The Fall of Two Cities: Troy and Gondolin

Vergil was a fundamental source of inspiration for Tolkien, not only when writing the Lord of the Rings, but also at the beginning of his “world-building”. The Fall of Gondolin, written in 1916, was modeled upon the Aeneid, whose second book shares many similarities with the description of Gondolin’s last day. For instance, the attack that seals the fate of the city takes place during a feast in both works, whereas both protagonists (Aeneas and Tuor) leave wives and sons to fight the enemy and witness deaths of their kings (Priam/Turgon). Other analogies include the topos of the fall of the tallest tower of the city as well as the scenes of Creusa/Idril clasping the knees of her husband and begging him not to go back to the battle. Tolkien chose the Aeneid as his main model because, in his opinion, the Aeneid and The Fall of Gondolin evoked the air of antiquity and melancholy. Vergil’s nostalgia for a “lost world” conveyed in the Aeneid greatly resembles the nostalgia pervading both Tolkien’s writing and life

G. B. Smith’s “Elzevir Cicero” and the Construction of Queer Immortality in Tolkien’s Mythopoeia

Following the death of J. R. R. Tolkien in 1973, an obituary appeared in The Times quoting Tolkien as having said that his “love for the classics took ten years to recover from lectures on Cicero and Demosthenes.” This contentious relationship between Tolkien and the Greco-Roman past contrasts with the work of unabashedly classicizing poet Geoffrey Bache Smith, a school friend of Tolkien’s who was killed in the Great War. When Tolkien collected Smith’s poems for posthumous publication, this paper shows, Smith’s engagements with the ancient world became part of Tolkien’s own philosophy of immortality through literary composition. Within his 1931 poem “Mythopoeia,” and his 1939 speech “On Fairy-Stories,” Tolkien articulated a unified method of mythmaking by looking back to his lost friend’s understanding of mythology as a type of ancient story-craft that enabled poets to preserve the dead against the ravages of time. By tracing a triangular path through the relationships between Tolkien, Smith, and the classical past inhabited by figures like Cicero, this paper argues that Tolkien not only recovered a “love for the classics,” but used classical texts to “recover” his lost friend, granting Smith a queer, classical immortality in return