[mark12_30]

Meaty stuff, davem.

I think it's both more complex and more simple than that.

Faerie tales (of any kind) transport the reader out of *this* world into a secondary world, with its own rules, so that when the Truth permeates the fabric and the reader tastes it, it is acceptable and has appeal. The reader embraces it and likes it. As, when Tolkien made Good Beautiful. In this world, despite our skepticism, good is beautiful, if you have the heart to see that; and spending time in his world has enabled lots of young teen fans to set aside skepticism and choose good where they otherwise would not. (See the many and varied posts in Novices and Newcomers to this effect.) Having encountered Truth in a faerie story, the hope is that when the reader returns to *this* world, he will recognize that truth, in our example that goodness as desirable (and good) when he sees it here, and it will appeal to him as it did in the other world. And in the lives of many teen fans (and elders) this is beautifully effective.

In order for that to succeed, Tolkien does not have to create The World Of Faerie. He has to create a world into which faerie can permeate. But that world has to be consistent-- or we lose trust. Aragorn has to be Aragorn; Gollum has to be Gollum; and Elves have to be Elves-- or *we* lose trust in the storyteller, and our skepticism kicks in. We might as well have stayed in *this* world.

One major point of parables, myths, faerie stories, is that in entering into them, we set aside our skepticism.

Old Testament: look at Nathan describing the Old Man’s one precious lamb, and the rich man who took it from him instead of taking a lamb from his own plentiful herd. David's guard was down, and he was furious at the rich man on behalf of the Old Man who only had one precious lamb. David condemns the Rich Man as heartless and cruel. When Nathan says, "That's what you did to Uriah when you took Bathsheba, " David is pierced to the heart. Why? Because his guard was down, his skepticism was inactive.

There were dozens of ways to tell that parable. It didn't have to be an old man; it didn't have to be a lamb. It could have been a little boy with a pet bird, or whatever. But the point was, David's guard was down, and he was vulnerable and open when the truth finally struck.

Now-- if the parable had been inconsistent *within itself*, or had given itself away as overtly moralizing: "Listen, David, and I'll tell you how you really sinned with Bathsheba--” David’s guard would have been up and the truth wouldn't have gotten through to his heart.

This is why I look at consistency for each story. Smith has to be consistent within itself, cover to cover. Roverandom has to be consistent within itself, cover to cover. Or our skepticism rears up, and we harden our hearts before the Truth can penetrate. Lord of the Rings has to be consistent within itself, or the spell is broken. Generally speaking, when the spell breaks, our heart closes.

That's why I think you COULD write a good (great!) Trotter story. Make it consistent from cover to cover; make me believe in Trotter, that he is who he is (not a surrogate Aragorn!), he lives where he lives, he does what he does. And then if Faerie invades, if Truth shines through, I might be open to that glimpse beyond-- beyond Trotter, beyond where he lives, into Truth.

Going back to your post:

In other words, are we looking to Tolkien to provide us access to Faerie, & perhaps through Faerie, access to something beyond that - as Niggle's painting could provide a viewer with a glimpse of the 'real' place it depicted, yet that place was seen in the end to be merely 'the best introduction to the 'Mountains', & its over those Mountains, in the end, that we must go.

I think we should look for that in any good faerie story.

Or is Tolkien's Middle Earth to be taken as Art, a thing in itself, which has a value solely in & of itself?

While it's true that a work of art has a value in and of itself, it's not true that therefore it has no transcendent value.

The painting of St. Catherine in The Boston Museum of Fine Arts is a beautiful work of art, a magnificent example of The Painter's Craft in and of its own right. The lighting is superb; the colors are effective; the woman's clothing folds realistically; her facial expression is realistic. The building is realistic. The storm outside is realistic. The crucifix looks like a real crucifix. Yes, it has value as a Painting, as Oil On Canvas; it is a painter's example of How To Do It Right.

But-- it also pierces my heart, with desire, with hope, with longing, with passionate faith. Very few works of art in this world have affected me the way that painting has.

So-- Tolkien's statements (that seem to conflict):

Tolkien can't have it both ways - he can't claim on the one hand that fantasy (including his own creation, presumably) is about seeing 'in a brief vision that the answer may be greater—it may be a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium in the real world' - ie, claiming that it points us towards something greater, more 'real', 'truer', & at the same time denounce the 'purposed domination of the Author'

Yes he can-- because he is not after the author's domination. He is after the interaction between the heart of the reader and that encounter with Truth. And the Truth is beyond the author's control; the Truth transcends the author.

The author can drive the bus, he can know the road, he can stay on schedule; but it is the passenger who must have open eyes to see, and be receptive and open to the sights he sees. If his eyes are closed because of horrible driving, that's the driver's fault. If his eyes are open and he sees a glimpse of Truth-- the driver can only take credit for helping the passenger feel secure enough during the bus ride that he doesn't have to close his eyes.

(Saucie, we cross-posted...)