Turin the Hopeless?

[davem]

'kay...

From OFS:

But the “consolation” of fairy-tales has another aspect than the imaginative satisfaction of ancient desires. Far more important is the Consolation of the Happy Ending. Almost I would venture to assert that all complete fairy-stories must have it. At least I would say that Tragedy is the true form of Drama, its highest function; but the opposite is true of Fairystory. Since we do not appear to possess a word that expresses this opposite—I will call it Eucatastrophe. The eucatastrophic tale is the true form of fairy-tale, and its highest function. The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous “turn” (for there is no true end to any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially “escapist,” nor “fugitive.” In its fairy-tale—or otherworld—setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.

Probably every writer making a secondary world, a fantasy, every sub-creator, wishes in some measure to be a real maker, or hopes that he is drawing on reality: hopes that the peculiar quality of this secondary world (if not all the details) are derived from Reality, or are flowing into it. If he indeed achieves a quality that can fairly be described by the dictionary definition: “inner consistency of reality,” it is difficult to conceive how this can be, if the work does not in some way partake of reality. The peculiar quality of the ”joy” in successful Fantasy can thus be explained as a sudden glimpse of the underlying reality or truth. It is not only a “consolation” for the sorrow of this world, but a satisfaction, and an answer to that question, “Is it true?” The answer to this question that I gave at first was (quite rightly): “If you have built your little world well, yes: it is true in that world.” That is enough for the artist (or the artist part of the artist). But in the “eucatastrophe” we see 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. The use of this word gives a hint of my epilogue. It is a serious and dangerous matter. It is presumptuous of me to touch upon such a theme; but if by grace what I say has in any respect any validity, it is, of course, only one facet of a truth incalculably rich: finite only because the capacity of Man for whom this was done is finite.

It is not difficult to imagine the peculiar excitement and joy that one would feel, if any specially beautiful fairy-story were found to be “primarily” true, its narrative to be history, without thereby necessarily losing the mythical or allegorical significance that it had possessed. It is not difficult, for one is not called upon to try and conceive anything of a quality unknown. The joy would have exactly the same quality, if not the same degree, as the joy which the “turn” in a fairy-story gives: such joy has the very taste of primary truth. (Otherwise its name would not be joy.) It looks forward (or backward: the direction in this regard is unimportant) to the Great Eucatastrophe. The Christian joy, the Gloria, is of the same kind; but it is preeminently (infinitely, if our capacity were not finite) high and joyous. But this story is supreme; and it is true. Art has been verified. God is the Lord, of angels, and of men—and of elves. Legend and History have met and fused.

Eucatastrophe, according to Tolkien here is essential to successful fairy story- indeed, is its 'highest function'.

CoH is a work that contradicts the core message of OFS. It breaks all the rules of 'Tolkienian fantasy'. What's going on?

[Lalwendë]

Well my thought is that this shows us yet again the two contradictory sides of Tolkien - he is at one moment a believer in Hope and at the next a believer in Fate. On Fairy-Stories was written in 1939, after the publication of the Hobbit, and as Tolkien said in the newly released BBC interview seen on Newsnight last week, some of the thought behind On Fairy-Stories sprang from the reactions of his own children to stories he told them. Lord of the Rings also sprang up at the same time in his life. Children of Hurin however sprang from an earlier, darker phase of Tolkien's life, from the 'war years'.

A person of course, is allowed to take differing views, not to fix upon one way of looking at life! We do get ourselves in knots trying to pin poor Tolkien down to being either Northern or Catholic - when he was both! That's why it's best not to fix on something and then go looking for it, but to read what he says and then see what flows from that...

And what does flow for one is that these periods of Middle-earth's history are quite different. Both are without any visible presensce of Eru or the 'good' Valar, both have Dark Lords - but in the earlier period that Dark Lord is a very real, very physical presence involved with the tangible world whereas later on, Sauron is very distant and remote. The Third Age is more 'modern' in that the Gods are more remote, less 'real', more like true legends. The First Age however is much more like the 'Pagan' age in that the Gods are very real, so real that you can be killed by one in battle, or taken captive by one, that you can try to find them and plead with them. The former would give you a sense of control of your own destiny and hence, a belief in things like hope, which you could bring into being yourself; the latter would leave you feeling subject to Fate and to Wyrd.

[davem]

Of course. Still, its interesting how Tolkien breaks his own rules regarding Fairy story. Then again, it could be argued (has been - here for instance http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Front_Page/ID24Aa01.html, that his purpose was a more subtle one in CoH - to point up the bleakness & hopelessness of the Pagan worldview.

Of course, reading the Turin saga as part of The Sil is one thing - the Eucatastrophe is present in the War of Wrath & the overthrow of Morgoth. It is not present, however, in the Children of Hurin when read as a stand alone work - which is how it is presented now for the first time.

So, was Tolkien merely writing CoH to point up the failings of the Pagan worldview? Seems a very long, laborious way of going about it if he was. Or was he rather setting out the Pagan ideal? It seems to me that CoH is a story far better suited to a post Christian world than LotR, or at least a story that is easier to understand. I can identify with Turin far more than with Frodo, or even Sam. They may be people I'd like to be, but I know Turin is far more like I actually am.

[Lalwendë]

Originally Posted by davem

So, was Tolkien merely writing CoH to point up the failings of the Pagan worldview? Seems a very long, laborious way of going about it if he was. Or was he rather setting out the Pagan ideal? It seems to me that CoH is a story far better suited to a post Christian world than LotR, or at least a story that is easier to understand. I can identify with Turin far more than with Frodo, or even Sam. They may be people I'd like to be, but I know Turin is far more like I actually am.

Anyway! No, I don't think it does point out a pessimistic view of the 'Pagan' world - it may be a world where the Gods are closer to hand and so was Fate, as they were in the Pagan world, but there's something else very odd here. These are people close at hand to the Elves, the very Elves who have lived in the Undying Lands and who have lived with the Ainur. They know all about Eru, perhaps more than any other Men ever would - and yet they have less hope? What does that tell us about their times? About Eru? About Hope?

[Lalaith]

What is also interesting is the recurring refrain in CoH of how unfortunate it was that Turin didn't die at various given points in the story. Also how lucky it is for people when Turin passes out of their lives - eg Nellas. This gives a strong sense that his situation really is hopeless.

Norse culture draws a very strong link between morality and luck. Even today, in Icelandic, somebody really morally reprehensible, a child molester for example, might be referred to as "ogaefumadur", or a man of ill fortune.
This idea is very prominent in Turin's story. Turin's hopelessness is very much tied in with his own perception of himself as a man of ill fortune. The whole issue of him refusing to return to Doriath, and thus be protected from Morgoth, is related to his pride - but was his pride the result of his ill fortune, or vice versa?

Interestingly, in CoH we have a very strong sense of Morwen also being cursed with pride which leads to terrible errors of judgement, while Nienor is more let off the hook - her main motive for leaving Doriath with her mother was the hope that her insistence would make Morwen turn back.

[Lalaith]

They know all about Eru, perhaps more than any other Men ever would - and yet they have less hope? What does that tell us about their times? About Eru? About Hope?

There's a really interesting speech by Turin on this very subject in CoH.
*goes to look*

[davem]

Just been re-reading the essay/review I linked to. The writer seems to see CoH as a work 'reflecting' what he sees as the pre-Christian world, full of hopeless, futile heroics which lead to disaster even as they achieve (transitory) victory. He also seems to believe that LotR is a work that reflects the 'Christian' world which superceded the 'Pagan'. Heroism is neither hopeless nor futile & victory may be permanent. God is (as far as the writer is concerned at least) fully present in the world of LotR, whereas he is conspicuous by his absence in CoH. Now, as I've pointed out, if we take the stories in chronological order in M-e history this theory fits as a 'reflection' of Primary world history - the world of CoH is the First Age, that of LotR is the Third.

If, however, we look at when the two works were published then we see the opposite - LotR appeared in the mid 1950's, when Churchgoing (in Britain/Europe at least) was the norm. Every home had a Bible, (which was well read, btw) & most everyone (in Britain again) considered themselves Christian. CoH has just appeared, in 2007, in (again from the British/European perspective) a post Christian world.

"The Valar! They have forsaken you, and they hold Men in scorn. What use to look westward across the endless Sea to a dying sunset in the West? There is but one Vala with whom we have to do, and that is Morgoth; and if in the end we cannot overcome him, at least we can hurt him and hinder him ... Though mortal Men have little life beside the span of the Elves, they would rather spend it in battle than fly or submit."

This statement reflects, for the majority in the post-Christian world, our shared worldview far better than the 'Estel' we find in LotR. In short, it seems to me that the books have actually appeared in the correct sequence to reflect the change that has taken place in the Primary world...

Doesn't CoH actually feel more 'contemporary' than LotR?