On the Last Homely House

Finding sanctuary in the wilderness of the modern world

Tolkien’s work inspires me to this day, and I want to start this substack off with writing about some of the things that I take from it.

To me, Tolkien’s work not only offers one of the greatest adventure stories in the Western world, but also gives us an out-of-place-and-time window into an almost lost philosophy and cosmology.

While his works are clearly fantasy, they also offer a commentary on the rise of modernity and the age of the machine, and the end of the age of (noble) men. Tolkien was such a reactionary that his views almost come out the other end and appear quite progressive to our understanding. They go beyond Modernity, and no longer fall within any of our preconceived frames.

What makes his work strong is that it never preaches to you. It never promises a solution by having its readers accept his outlook on life. It goes beyond these forms and gives you a glimp of the fire that warms a tradition.

Beyond the forms of any specific tradition, his books focus on the virtues and explores an ancient cosmology. Tolkien never gives specific practices to follow in order to emulate the heroes. He just shows you that virtuous people aren’t beyond the realm of possibility. His characters have a fides that goes beyond the mere worship of a deity. There is no religion in Middle-Earth, because all actions are an act of devotion in and of itself.

The question just becomes: devotion to whom? And it is a question we should ask ourselves every day.

The long defeat

What always struck me in Tolkien’s work is this sense of a long defeat. No doubt the Hobbits live an idyllic life and there is friendship and glory to be found in his works, but you always get the lingering sense that what you see in these books is only a figment of the golden age that once was. The people alive in the books are but shadows of their ancestors, who were more noble, more proud, more glorious than they themselves are. Or in Tolkien’s own words: a lesser son of greater sires.
Even with several characters still radiating an almost larger than life virtuousness in their words, deeds and action, they are a watered down version of their ancestors living in the days of the great kings, their great kingdoms and the glorious high civilisation.

The direction of time, the deeds of lesser men; it all chips away at the splendour that was once created. With each generation, the noble lineage weakens. Each generation has less resolve to do the work to maintain what was handed down to them. The culture longs for quick fixes. It seeks to cut corners. More and more the scales tip into the direction of a morality where the end justifies the means, and what was given to them to pass on, becomes lost.

The fall of the Men of the West

In the story of the Men of the West (the Dúnedain) Tolkien writes about their decline. Starting their story as the highest civilisation of Númenor, he shows us their fall from grace and the punishment of the gods; sinking the entire island under the waves. Only the Faithful (called Elf-friends) escape this fate, because they kept their eyes on the Valar (gods), and the Elves.

The Faithful establish two great kingdoms in Middle-Earth; Arnor in the north, and Gondor in the south. The northern kingdom became weakened by inner strife, fragmenting the kingdom and causing conflict over border territories. In this weakened state, the petty kingdoms were attacked by outside forces and vanished, only the ruins of once great cities and fortresses remaining.

The noble line of kings in the north was reduced to a people of hardened rangers, dwindling in number and hiding in the shadows of the forests, remaining the protectors of their lands.

The southern kingdom survived, but stagnated. From a golden age, its splendour, glory and wealth waned. The line of kings ended in one of the many wars repelling attackers and the city came under the rule of stewards; noble men who would keep things in order while the throne remained empty.

Gondor’s capital city, Osgiliath, had a fortress on either side of the city; Minas Anor (Tower of the Sun), and Minas Ithil (Tower of the Moon). When Minas Ithil fell to the dark forces and became Minas Morgul (Tower of Sorcery), Minas Arnor was renamed Minas Tirith (Tower of the Guard) and became the capital city while Osgiliath crumbled by the ongoing wars between Minas Morgul and Minas Tirith.

Waldganger or Guardian

The story of the Men of the West offers us two strategies to the onslaught of modernity and the situation the Western world finds itself in.

Either one stands guard; clad in shining armour, a proud and valiant shield behind strong walls, protecting that which matters most, even if that which is protected turned stagnant, its glory waning, turning it more into a symbol than a living memory (the graves of kings, an empty throne and the withered white tree). A noble cause, because if the symbols are lost, there is nothing left to piece together what once fueled the former splendour.

Or one accepts the losses, learns from what caused them to be lost in the first place and passing on that which is most valuable - the virtues, the songs, the stories and the wisdom - while living as men among the ruins, working and sacrificing to create small patches of respite where one can still experience a shadow of the peace, prosperity and the beauty of former splendour.

Both are worthwhile strategies. Both sacrifice one important element, to safekeep another. Both offer a piece of the puzzle that is necessary when the time comes to restore - however shortly - the glory of old.

Which way, Western man?

The long defeat of the West

Personally, I don’t have hope for the survival of the West. Like Tolkien’s high civilisation Númenor, which was punished for its own hubris, so too the West is about to be flooded for its own hubris. It sacrificed to gods of modernity and technocracy. In the hope of being granted control over life and creation it failed to pass on what was important, and lost focus on safekeeping that which is worthwhile.

Like the kingdom of Arnor, the monolithic West will fracture and be torn apart by inner strive and outside forces, leaving its inhabitants among the ruins of former glory.

Like the kingdom of Gondor, the line of noble kings has ended, and our civilisation is in the hand of stewards. But our stewards are not of noble lineage and they squander our heritage. They are so blinded by their sense of moral grandiosity - solely based on the fact that they inherited a great civilisation - they forgot to actually be moral. The fruits of modernity are to be gained, at any cost. Sacrificing honour, honesty, virtue, courage, because they get in the way of a hedonistic life now.

What Tolkien’s work shows time and time again is that without the proper attitude to life, without a focus on the Good, True and Beautiful, without putting in the work, both physical and spiritual, the entropy of the world seeps in and drags your society, culture and people asunder.

“For the Lord of the Galadhrim is accounted the wisest of the Elves of Middle-Earth, and a giver of gifts beyond the power of kings. He has dwelt in the West since the days of dawn, and I have dwelt with him years uncounted; for ere the fall of Nargothrond or Gondolin I passed over the mountains, and together through the ages of the world we have fought the long defeat.”
― Galadriel, The Fellowship of the Ring

Yet, Tolkien does not turn defeatist and pessimistic but has his characters actively fight against this long defeat. Prolonging the defeat is a worthwhile struggle in and of itself. There is no honour in accepting defeat without standing up for that which is Good.

Tolkien’s work doesn’t fall into the nihilistic entrapments of modernity, where we only appreciate a Faustian will to power. Because the Good, True and Beautiful doesn’t show strength and domination over all other things, the modernist sees it as weak and not worth fighting for.

Nor does Tolkien’s philosophy accept the idea that the end justifies the means, so long as the end appears good. In his eyes, nothing of genuine good can be achieved through evil deeds. The end would forever be tarnished by the blemish of the sins that achieved it.
Those that are looking to fix the world by pursuing great power and through the domination of all life are not heroes in his stories.

What is left for us is putting in the work to save the True, Good and Beautiful, and we will only be able to do so by having our actions line out with that. Even when we know that by doing so, we would be unable to establish these values in dominion above all. They can not be forced onto the world. They can only be actively chosen and pursued.

Or, as Tolkien puts it himself in one of his letters:

“Actually I am a Christian, and indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect ‘history’ to be anything but a ‘long defeat’— though it contains (and in legend may contain more clearly and movingly) some samples or glimpses of final victory”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, Letters 255

Seeds for the final victory are within all of us, but they need to be planted and nourished by love and right actions in order to flourish.

Establishing sanctuary

“In all the days of the Third Age, Master Elrond abode in Imladris, and he gathered there many Elves, and other folk of wisdom and power from among all the kindreds of Middle-earth, and he preserved through many lives of Men the memory of all that had been fair; and the house of Elrond was a refuge for the weary and the oppressed, and a treasury of good counsel and wise lore. In that house were harboured the Heirs of Isildur, in childhood and old age, because of the kinship of their blood with Elrond himself, and because he knew in his wisdom that one should come of their line to whom a great part was appointed in the last deeds of that Age. And until that time came the shards of Elendil's sword were given into the keeping of Elrond, when the days of the Dúnedain darkened and they became a wandering people.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

There is one piece of the puzzle I haven’t yet written about: Rivendell, also known as the Last Homely House on the West-side of the Mountains. It’s a safe haven for the Dúnedain in the north, and the place where they store the last treasures of their culture, raise the descendants of the bloodline of kings, and where the lore and wisdom is preserved and kept safe by Elrond, a wise elven lord.

I think it is safe to say that while some may (rightfully) opt for the way of the Guardian, I see merit in the path of the northern Dúnedain. To undo the works of modernity from the shadows, with small attacks and sabotage. Right now, we are unable to meet the Leviathan out in the open on the battlefield and succeed in defeating it.

I personally feel a strong urge to engage the living world, to help people and create small pockets of hope even if it takes sacrifices to make this a reality.
Yet, I also realise one can not fight restlessly forever. There have to be moments of respite and rest. We can not offer hope to others and have none ourselves. There have to be places where we find renewed inspiration by songs, stories, lore and wise council, and perhaps above all; community.

While I recognise great value in religion and the perseverance of the buildings and symbols with forming a community (after all, I am a theologian and religious scholar), I do realise that following a tradition with conviction is not the way I personally experience such fides, and it hasn’t had the greatest track record in the face of the march of modernity.

I feel like a different approach is needed. One that Tolkien wrote out in his work. One beyond a specific tradition that approaches the problem from a broader perspective.

The Last Homely House

Rivendell is a sanctuary where the weary are cured, the tired are rested and the sick healed. Besides a homely place for fire, cheer and food, Elrond’s house comes across as somewhat of a monastery.

For that purpose it was established, as the Elven magic envisioned by Tolkien appears a form of theurgia; enhancing the creation. Working with it, instead of trying to change it to your wishes and desires.
Their food and water stills hunger and lessens thirst, but also revives strength, moral and vigour. Their cloaks cover better, their trees grow taller, and bear richer fruit. Their soil fertilises all other soil and make it grow bountiful, their healing heals grave wounds quicker.

What our world needs are places like Rivendell; places where the beauty and splendour of the West is preserved, however small. Its stories, its songs, its philosophies, its virtues.

Let us build homely houses, create hospitable living rooms and plant small gardens where all that had been fair is preserved and folk of wisdom gather, offering good council and wise lore. Let these places be a sanctuary for all who are weary, so that they may be cured of it.

“Elrond's house was perfect, whether you liked food or sleep or story-telling or singing (or reading), or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness. ... Evil things did not come into the secret valley of Rivendell.”
―J.R.R. Tolkien