It’s interesting how marriage can change a young man’s mind for the better, and sometimes to his complete surprise. It is as if a thousand thoughts, neglected and unspoken in the careless days of bachelorhood, silently combine in wonderful ways to produce new understandings of the world ; which then make themselves known step by step.
This process, of unconscious thinking, has a name given by psychologists : they call it latent learning. Of course, psychologists, being of a cautious disposition, presume that all the unconscious knowledge we have has been previously learned at a younger age, from the time of birth ; there are few now who are so bold as to presume that individuals might have knowledge that they brought with them into this world, or knowledge that they might have acquired directly mind from mind.
These thoughts were going through my mind recently as I was re-reading Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, a book I first read when our first daughter was on her way into the world. For reasons I could not have been fully aware of, I began to take an interest in what was to me a somewhat alien world – the world of myth and legend, of allegory and fable. And, to my surprise, through that master story-teller I discovered the importance of these genres ; and their essential truths. Much more was to follow in the coming years.
Most people now know, I think, that Tolkien wrote his great book in order to fill a gap ; a gap so obvious that no-one seemed to have noticed it ; or, if they had noticed it, they felt unable or unwilling to fill it. What was missing was a truly Anglo-Saxon grand myth. True, there was Beowulf, but however fine that was, it made but a small contribution to our heritage and was of limited scope.
On my first reading these aims of Tolkien quickly drifted far from my mind. That was because I was so enchanted by the story, so drawn in to the adventure, that I forgot completely the wider aims of the author. And that was just it ought to have been ; for no successful story was ever written merely to be an exemplar of a genre ; a mere literary exercise.
And who can doubt the success of The Lord of the Rings? And who can doubt the essential and eternal truths it first embodies and then expresses? Who does not, at some point and to some extent, identify with each and every character in the tale? Whether you be woman or man, you will sympathise with Eowyn in her dilemmas. Also with Aragorn in his dangers and toils ; with Gandalf in his mighty hopes and fears. And we can even identify with Sauron in his striving for mastery over all things both living and unliving. And who needs reminding of hobbits?
In myth there is a hidden power. It is the power to stir those obscured thoughts that come to the light of consciousness only when stimulated by some mysterious power that is latent in the very words we use. If myth were mere fantasy then our rational minds would dismiss it on first sight, and by this stage of our evolution, myth would simply not exist. But, although a myth may contain elements of fantasy, it is not those elements which stick in our minds and touch our hearts. And that is why true myths are ageless and enduring. That is why they adhere to our language. That is why all successful novels are based on traditional myths. That is why myths appear and reappear in all our arts and sciences.