Tolkien & The Dream That Wasn't
Grief and Eucatastrophe in Middle-earth and at home
The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.
— Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
Throughout The Lord of the Rings, doom and tragedy are constantly on the doorstep of J.R.R. Tolkien’s heroes. Failure and defeat happen frequently. The Witch King of Angmar overpowers Merry and Éowyn, Boromir is struck down by Uruk-hai scouts leaving the Fellowship without its great son of Gondor, Frodo is overcome by the power of the Ring on more than one occasion; including at the Crack of Doom when he must throw it into the fire, Gandalf seemingly perishes in the Mines of Moria.
Tolkien coined a term in his early academic writings, Eucatastrophe, to describe an unexpected peril resolved by an unexpected hope.
The Greek prefix "eu-" means “good”
And “catastrophe”, of course, implies disaster or upheaval.
I often imagine a table being flipped upside down. The table is adorned in fine food and wine, among other trappings of the good life. Then someone ruins it all in anger. They flip the table over, destroying all of it. But on the bottom of the table, the dinner guests see a treasure map that has been etched into the wood of the table. The dinner isn’t necessarily redeemed at that very moment, but there is now a bright and shining hope that it could be.
Good comes from the bad.
“-I am a Christian, and indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect ‘history’ to be anything but a ‘long defeat’ –though it contains (and in a legend may contain more clearly and movingly) some samples or glimpses of final victory.” - Tolkien, Letter 195
It should go without saying that in the Christian world, for believers and non-believers alike, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ rests as the great beacon of eucatastrophe. It captures Tolkien’s notion of “Christian joy…which produces tears because it is qualitatively so like sorrow”.
There’s a strange place in the human heart where Grief and Joy meet and reconcile their differences. They become one.
“Is everything sad going to come untrue?”
My Dad died rather suddenly a little over a week ago. I’m in the stage of grief where even as I write this, I am confused by the words. I don’t understand what has happened. The funeral, eulogy, and urn of ashes feel very much like a dream and every few hours I blink rapidly in recognition that it was all real.
In the final installment of The Lord of the Rings, Samwise Gamgee awakes in bed after the destruction of the Ring. He is in the presence of Gandalf. He mutters about the whole adventure having been a dream and remarks that he is glad to be awake. Then he turns over and sees Frodo lying next to him, missing a finger from his final confrontation with Gollum.
“Full memory flooded back”
Gandalf asks Sam as the Hobbit awakes, “Master Samwise, how do you feel?”
Sam is described as laying back with his mouth agape, fumbling through bewilderment and joy, and unable to speak. Then he gasps.
“Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?” asks Sam.
It’s all true, and all that has happened will remain so.
But there is a light that is coming. That’s the whole meaning of the Christian Advent season where for four weeks, candles are lit in the runup to Christ’s birth.
It’s a dark season. The sun sets early and it’s cold as death. I’ve never hated December the way I hate it right now. I so badly want the sun and its warmth around me.
But light is coming. There is a treasure map beneath the ruined feast.
In all of the Tolkien scenes I described at the start of this entry, there is a positive resolution brought about by unexpected forces.
Eucatastrophe sings in the pitch black of night.
“And he who was seated on the throne said,
‘Behold, I am making all things new.’”
- Revelation 21:5
Whatever you’re going through, good can come of it. Debts can be paid and in ways you never imagined possible. Be faithful, honest, and true in your dealings with others.
Do not despair.
Warmer days are coming.
I'm so sorry about your father.
I have prayed for your family this last week. You are doing good work for the world, sir.