[Fordim Hedgethistle]

I’m glad to see that Child and I fairly close together on most of the points that we raise. The only real differences between our positions are, so far as I can see, the result of my sloppy phraseology above, and in our choice of metaphors in describing the relationship between reader and (subcreated) text.

I believe none of us fall solely into one category or the other: slavishly following in Tolkien's footsteps, or going off on our own with creative interpretations that may or may not relate to the Professor's expressed views. To suggest such an extreme picture is misleading. In approaching Tolkien's writings, we are all on a sliding scale, some nearer one end, and some closer to the other. We all have moments when we think in terms of what JRRT meant by "X" or "Y", and others when we confront the text as individuals and come away with thoughts and insights that are uniquely our own.

I hope that I did not really give the impression that I think all readers are divided into two camps: the Nazgûl-readers combatively versus the Fellowship-readers (although going back to my post I can see that perhaps I did. . .confound me for posting late at night!). I did, however, state that “our reading experience is some mixture of this – more importantly, that our sense of the truths and/or Truth of Middle-Earth is an (unhappy?) mixture or composite of these positions.” What I meant to suggest is that within each individual reader (or act/moment of engaging with M-E) there exists simultaneously the potential for a Nazgûl-response and a Fellowship response. That is, we are subjected at once to the promise of the enchantment (the release and freedom from the Primary world through the magic of the story) as well as to the great danger of enchantment (of being ensorcelled and made subject to or of the magic). Again, this split response is, I think, anticipated in LotR by Gandalf and Saruman: the former enchants beings with the voice of counsel that provides hope; the latter enchants beings with the commanding power of his Voice.

Where Child and I do differ, and I think significantly, is in our revealing choice of metaphors about this mixed response. Child refers to a “sliding scale” and I to a “composite”. For Child, then, the act of engaging with the subcreation of Tolkien is one in which the reader can move back and forth between these responses, achieving some kind of balance? (Child wrote: “We all have moments when we think in terms of what JRRT meant by "X" or "Y", and others when we confront the text as individuals and come away with thoughts and insights that are uniquely our own.”). I suppose that what I mean by a “composite,” however, is that the reader is not moving from one position to the other in a happy and “balanced”(? – is this the right world Child?) manner, but that we are caught or suspended between positions that are in many ways irreconcilable (the subcreator or the reader – you can have it both ways, but not at the same time).

This is one way of portraying these particular viewpoints but it is possible to suggest another, which is equally plausible and also has roots in Tolkien's writing. We are all subcreators. But perhaps those who are cognizant of the Original Music and try to incorporate its themes in their own creations are in effect following in the footsteps of the Great Creator (in this case, Tolkien himself). By contrast those who create melodies of their own which have no bearing to the original Music are merely pumping out discordant and jarring notes that are highly reminiscent of Melkor.

I’m really not happy with the idea of elevating Tolkien to the status of “Great Creator,” for two reasons. First, M-E is clearly not a created realm on par with the Primary World. Second, Tolkien himself would resist this characterisation of his world. He is a subcreator and we are the readers. We do – I cannot agree more heartily, Child – participate in the act of subcreation through the act of reading, but the instant we do so in an unequal relationship, I believe that we begin to move (perhaps too far) down the road to Minas Morgul (“following in the footsteps of the Great Creator (in this case, Tolkien himself)”) and become Nazûl readers, by taking Tolkien as the Creator (as the Nazgûl take or have forced upon them Sauron in place of Eru).

It would be very hard to piece together the full picture of who Eru is, all the various Catholic interpretations that can be applied to things like lembas and Galadriel, and a host of other related things.

And a thanks to Child for this as it highlights a problem in my usage of Eruism – which I am delighted to see is catching on…perhaps much like a fungus. By Eruism I mean only that sense of a providential plan within which the individual becomes heroic in M-E, without any reference whatsoever to the Catholicism that, through Tolkien, informs it. (In other words, Eruism does not equal Catholicism, it is Tolkien’s subcreated and recovered version/vision of Catholicism). In this sense, I think once more that Child and I agree on this point: Eruism (but not Eru) is plainly evident to all who are enchanted by LotR insofar as we accept/enjoy/find satisfaction in moments like Gollum’s fall. Catholicism, Tolkien’s views on individual liberty and duty, and all the elements of the Primary World that inform Tolkien’s subcreated moral order of Eruism, are not.