Poetry and Monarchy in Tolkien

Kingship and Longing

“Farewell, my sister-son! This is a mighty end, and I am content. To you I leave my people. Tell Éowyn…”

When first I read these lines, I wept.

They have stayed with me ever since. Tolkien’s work has moved many. Why should my experience be of any special note? As I have pondered my experience, I have gained ground on the answer.

Monarchy in Tolkien is a weighty thing. No political theory, nor a specter of benighted ages gone by, gleefully cast off in the struggle for progress. No, for Tolkien, kings are embodiments of something deep in human experience. Tolkien’s kings are more than political placeholders; they are poetic figures. Tolkien’s kings are heavy, not because they wear the crown, but because they embody the ideals of mankind.

“We are a republic, not a monarchy!” “Kings are oppressive, arbitrary, capricious.” Some will be tempted to say these things. To reject the concept of monarchy for these reasons is to confuse the political with the poetic. This essay is not about political theory. It is about poetic figures and the longing they evoke.

Poetica

Modernity has reduced poetry to self-expression. This epic and mythic form has become a literary selfie, narcissistic productions of self-indulgent tripe. But it was not always so. There was a time when the poets were revered as prophets. The ancients understood better. The men of the Renaissance did as well. The Philosopher defined poetry for us: “Poetry, therefore, is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular.” (Poetics, Chapter 9, 1451b)

Poetry, real poetry, captures the universals of human experience through the artistic imitation of real life. It is mimetic, that is imitative, of reality. History merely recounts the events of reality to convey information or craft a narrative. Poetry is man’s attempt to clothe the universal in the wardrobe of the particular. That is what Tolkien does with his kings: they evoke poetic longing.

Tolkien crafted his poetic art in the guise of history. His precise dating of events, the detailed lexicography, and the beloved maps of his world are all added to give his poetic vision the appearance of history. When history and poetry are combined in this way, we have entered the world of myth:

“I had a mind to make a body of more or less connected legend, ranging from the large and cosmogonic, to the level of romantic fairy-story… which I could dedicate simply to: to England; to my country. … I would draw some of the great tales in fullness, and leave many only placed in the scheme, and sketched. The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands, wielding paint and music and drama.”

Tolkien’s perennial relevance witnesses to the mastery he achieved. When we speak of the poetic quality in Tolkien, we are not dealing with idiosyncratic expressions of an Oxford linguist. We are dealing with one of the greatest poetic works of the Anglosphere. When we read Tolkien, we trace the footsteps of a man grasping for that which illuminated his poetic vision. We reach for the light of the stars, which never dims in themselves, though clouds obscure our sight. What is more, we follow his lead, not to learn what his day was like, nor to learn what Tolkien the man valued. Rather, we follow him to learn what lessons we can for our day. We trace out the figures of Arda’s kings in the hope, perhaps only a fool’s hope, to learn what a king ought to be. We learn from Tolkien how to spot Aragorn, though cowled under Strider’s hood. And having found our Theoden, perhaps, peace as well under his reign.

Kings

Of the many ways that Tolkien brings to life his poetic vision, a central way is through the figure of the King. Of the several kings in Tolkien’s world, Theoden is the least outwardly remarkable. Not so nobly born as Aragorn, nor so wise as Celebrimbor, nor as single-minded as Turgon, nor as bold and confident as Feanor, Theoden was kingly nonetheless. Theoden will be our focus because his death wrought in me that same longing Lewis expressed in Surprised by Joy:

It was a sensation, of course, of desire; but desire for what? … Before I knew what I desired, the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased. … In a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else.

In the death of Theoden, I found in myself an implantation of longing for that type of man, for a king. I had experienced Tolkien’s poetic power. I trust I am not the only man of my generation to have done so.

You will recall Theoden’s character arc. We meet him, enslaved to Saruman through Grima Wormtongue, a shadow of his former self. Gandalf wisely places his old sword in his hand, breaking the chains that bound him and awakening him to the danger his people faced. Ashamed of his former conduct, Theoden takes action to preserve his people at Helm’s Deep.  Trusting in the traditional refuge of his people and the valor of his men, Theoden led his people to safety. It was Gandalf’s arrival that secured the victory.  It was the Rohirrim’s valor, led by their king, that enabled the victory. The king and his house return to the Golden Hall to feast the victorious dead.

Aragorn faithfully serves through all this, defending the realm of his ally. Then, the beacons are lit. Gondor, not Rohan, now suffers need. Theoden, again, redeeming his former sins, calls forth the Rohirrim. They arrive, like the winged hussars, as dawn breaks, hooves and horns thundering, to break the siege. They win the field of Pelennor and glory for Rohan, immortal. They lose, however, their king, the glory of Rohan, mortal. Unashamed now to enter the mighty company of his fathers, Theoden King departs the Pelennor more gloriously than he arrived.

There are two features of Theoden this essay will highlight. These two, it seems to me, are the essential elements that make up Theoden’s nobility. They are also mythological elements that, being poetic, teach us universals of leadership. These universal lessons are needed today.

Virtue

Virtue marks Theoden as noble. The Rohirrim, as Tolkien relates their narrative, came from the north and occupied the land of Rohan. They, unlike the highborn Númenóreans of Gondor, have no kinship with the elves. This blood-want, though, is no hindrance to Theoden’s nobility. Virtue achieves beyond that which blood bequeaths.

The classical virtues are four: Wisdom, Courage, Temperance, and Justice. Given the setting of The Lord of the Rings, we should not expect to find the Christian virtues (Faith, Hope, and Love). We do find the classical virtues, in Theoden as in others. This essay will only highlight Theoden’s wisdom and courage.

His wisdom is a Northern Wisdom, an Anglo-Germanic wisdom. Beowulf gives us an example of this wisdom when he counsels Hrothgar on how to deal with Grendel.

The Northman lived in a world ordered by fate.  A man’s doom was unavoidable.  The skein of his life was woven long ago and could not be altered.  It was in light of this reality, according to the Northman, that courage was the wisest course.  Note, it was the wisest course.  The place of courage for the Northman was not as a means to change an outcome.  Rather, given that things could not be changed, this was the best and most sensible course of action.  If courage was wisdom, fear was folly.  And the folly of it lay in the craven desire to get out of the current situation.  Fear sees the circumstance and recoils from it, desiring a change.  Courage sees the circumstance, recognizes it for what it is, and plays the man.  A man’s doom will find him, whatever policy he adopts.  Better, then, to play the man and meet your doom face to face.  

Hence, when Beowulf arrives in Heorot, he finds Hrothgar overcome with fear.  His men have been murdered night after night for 12 years.  Hrothgar needs not only a champion’s strength; he needs the counsel of a wise thane.  This counsel is expressed in Beowulf’s encouragement to Hrothgar to not fear but to take courage.  For, whatever betides, the doom will come.  All a man can do is be a man. 

When faced with almost certain destruction by an overwhelming force of Uruk-hai, Theoden chooses armed defense. When the battle goes against him and the Deeping Wall is broken by the craft of the Uruk-hai, he mounts his steed and charges with his huscarls. He did not hide in the caves, as the women were ordered to. He rode out into uncertain victory, as men ought to do. As the event showed, Theoden’s courage was the wisest thing to do.

People

The people (or nation) loom large in Theoden’s character. The journey to Helm’s Deep was a journey for the people, not for the king. The courage of the men stood as a buckler to protect the women and children behind. True, they have no escape from the invaders. Should the men fail, the women will be next. The men, like Theoden, did not shrink from the task, seeing the difficulty. No, the rose to the challenge, ignoring the difficulty, looking to those whom they loved. This is courage: doing the difficult because it is your duty, not because you will win. At the victory feast, in kingly fashion, they toast the victorious dead, the people who died so Rohan could live. 

Every action Theoden takes is calculated to protect his people and enable them to continue after he has gone. The past, present, and future of his people occupied Theoden’s thoughts and were expressed with his dying words: Farewell, my sister-son! This is a mighty end, and I am content. To you I leave my people. Tell Éowyn…

As king, he ensures that “my people” have a worthy leader to take up the throne. As uncle, he wanted to speak once more to that niece he doted on like a daughter. Theoden was also conscious of his people’s past.  In the movie version, Theoden exhaled and said: I go to my fathers. And even in their mighty company I shall not now be ashamed.

While not original to Tolkien’s book, this line accurately expresses the sentiment of Theoden toward his ancestors. It is the Nordic Valhalla that Theoden invokes. Given the rest of the evidence in Tolkien’s books, we can say that this artistic interpretation of Theoden by Peter Jackson is true to the character. Thus, in Theoden’s death, we find a king, giving his life for his people, past, present, and future.

More than a literary device, Theoden’s love for his people is an application of the fifth commandment. We are to care for those who come after us and honor those who went before. “Honor thy father and mother” implies duties to our superiors, inferiors, and equals. Death is merely a temporary interruption occasioned by sin. It is an accidental quality, not essential to human nature. Your grandfather is your grandfather still.  Though dead, he still has a claim on your honor. The Romans used to call their ancestors maiores, “betters.” An apt way, in my view, to refer to your ancestors as superiors. As superiors, our ancestors also have claim to our fifth commandment obedience.

This is the second universal lesson for leadership. What many Americans are looking for is a leader who cares for us. Not for ideals and propositions, but for men and women, for our traditions and heroes. A leader’s first duty is to love what he defends. Up to this point in America, it appears that most of our leaders care more for abstract principles than for living and breathing people. It is not hard to see that this is why Trump is popular. “Make America Great Again” is an expression of love for this country and its people. America needs leaders who are conscious, as Theoden was, of the American inheritance, past, present, and future.

On Monarchy

Monarchy represents two things. Monarchy is a political system that can be debated and studied in history books. But a king is a poetic ideal. Tolkien’s use of the king as a poetic ideal approaches the mythological in its power. In Theoden, among all Tolkien’s kings, I see one that I would follow. I see a king that I could love. And when he died, I wept. I wept for Theoden and for what he embodied. In my tears, I saw irrigated a longing for something better in my corner of Middle Earth. I longed for a leader like Theoden, “for that was a good king.”

The reality is that Theoden is a character, drawn to the life on the page but bound to the page nonetheless. The lineaments of his character, however, can be imitated in our lives. The poetic imitates reality to teach universal truth. To use poetry aright, one can imitate the universal truth found therein and embody the virtues the poem first made him aware of. When we talk of kings, it is nothing more and nothing less than a brave man who loves us.


Image Credit: Unsplash

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B.A. Castle

B.A. Castle is a son of Virginia, a Confessional Presbyterian, husband, father, and dog owner, deer hunter. Graduating from GPTS in 2019, he served for 4 years as the pastor of Grace OPC Lynchburg, VA. He edited and modernized Theodore Beza's "Learned Treatise on the Plague" (Canon Press, 2020). He published "The Analogical Day View: Exegetical and Systematic Critique" (PRJ, 2018).