JRR Tolkien's second-rate prose

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

Apart from spending the money on fancy waistcoats and a barrel of Theakston's, I can't see what use JRRT would have had for a Nobel prize. He was always a little suspicious of the waft of incense from fans and sympathetic critics, as we can see from his disapproval on hearing W.H. Auden's comment that he never again trusted the literary judgement of someone who didn't like LR. I doubt he'd have appreciated being dismissed on the basis of a translation, particularly one that he disliked himself, but Tolkien was always opposed to the use of translations and synopses in literary criticism. Since the Beowulf poet had been the victim of the same sort of unconsidered dismissal (not to mention also being too old to win a Nobel prize), JRRT might even have felt that he was in good company. When it came to his own work he was more often amused by the battle between his supporters and detractors than particularly concerned with the opinions of either.

Perhaps a more enduring comment on Tolkien's importance is that even as we approach the fortieth anniversary of his death and the fiftieth of Lewis', their two names are sufficient to make a lot of dusty old committee minutes into newsworthy material.

Personally I've found that the difference between 'good' and 'bad' literature seems to reside more in the opinion of the critic than any objective point of reference. Most criticism is merely an attempt to disguise this behind a smokescreen of academic braggadocio, and awards simply reflect the state of play: they indicate who's currently ahead in an endless and meaningless argument, occasionally managing at the same time to reward literary talent. The only things less relevant than this year's awards are those of years past.