“On Fairy Stories,” Part 1: The Basics

Ah, Tolkien. Perhaps one of the most brilliantly-creative minds of the last century. Certainly one of the most influential fantasy writers in the English language. And yet he’s a bit of an acquired taste, isn’t he? Read on to discover why some people have a hard time digesting Tolkien’s works and how this blog series proposes to help (at least for one of his essays.)

The Perils of Tolkien’s Works

Many people have read The Hobbit. Fewer have read The Lord of the Rings trilogy all the way through. Even fewer souls have dared plow through “the rest of Tolkien’s stuff,” whatever oddments that may entail. And why? Personally, I think it’s because of Tolkien’s proclivity to wax eloquent. Or, if you prefer, he uses lots of words. To me, this is generally delightful, but to others, it’s understandably tedious.

So when it comes to reading Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy-Stories,” I can think of two reasons that Joe Schmoe might not settle in with a cup of Earl Grey in anticipation of an enjoyable evening’s perusal of the essay. Reason Numero Uno: Who cares about fairy stories at our ripe old age? Reason Deux: Who wants to sift through Tolkien’s verbose and seemingly-scatterbrained train of thought in this essay?

Well, to answer both questions at the same time, I do! And over the course of the next several weeks, I hope to present you with a solid, practical, enjoyable distillation of this most excellent essay. Will you promise to stick with me? If you do, I promise you’ll be glad you did, especially by the last week. You’ll see that you actually do care about fairy stories, and you’ll be glad you tracked along with me to the end. There is some fantastic stuff ahead, folks!

Definition of Fairy-Stories

As any good logician should do, Tolkien begins the essay by defining his terms. What, he asks, is a fairy-story? You and I may think we have a pretty good idea, right? It’s Cinderella. It’s Gulliver’s Travels. It’s Alice in Wonderland and “The Tortoise and the Hare.” In other words, you and I would define a fairy-story, or fairy-tale, as pretty much any imaginative story. To this confident assertion, Tolkien would proclaim, “Wrong, sir!”

But don’t feel bad. He said the same thing to the Oxford English Dictionary when they defined it as “a tale about fairies, or generally a fairy legend” (110). He also rejected their definition of fairies as “supernatural beings of diminutive size” (110). He’s a pretty picky guy, but I guess that’s why he was a professor and a philologist.

In fact, of the four story examples I gave above, only the first would (probably) qualify as a fairy-tale in Tolkien’s opinion. The reason is that he rules out traveler’s tales (Gulliver’s Travels), dreams (Alice in Wonderland), and beast fables (“The Tortoise and the Hare”). To Tolkien, fairy-stories are “stories about Fairy, that is Faërie, the realm or state in which fairies have their being” (113). Basically, it’s an adventure set in that magical realm in which anything could happen. Its purpose could be nearly anything, including “satire, adventure, morality, [or] fantasy,” so long as it doesn’t try to explain away or ridicule the magic itself (114).

Origins of Fairy Stories

And now that he’s settled, more or less, on a definition, he believes that we want to know where fairy-stories come from. Honestly, that is a question that has never kept me up at night, and I suspect you may feel the same way. That being the case, I’ll really whittle down his ideas for you.

He begins by noticing that many fairy-stories contain similar elements such as enchanted fruit or magic rings. How, he asks, did different cultures in different times end up using the same theme or device? After examining several possible theories, he rejects them all and says that “the incarnate mind, the tongue, and the tale are in our world coeval” (122). In other words, stories and their themes have been around as long as people and language have existed. This is because we have what I’ll call the Power of the Adjective. Grammar lovers, rejoice!

He explains how we can take any descriptive word and stick it where it doesn’t naturally occur, such as hot fire in the cold belly of a snake. Viola! The dragon is born. By doing this with language, we are exercising our power to sub-create creatures and places using the basic ingredients we see around us. In this way, all of our ingredients—both real and sub-created—are constantly simmering in the “pot of soup” that is Story itself. Each story teller dips in his or her ladle and pulls out a different combination of the ingredients, but you will certainly see repeated elements from time to time. To Tolkien, that is evidence of the value of that ingredient.

Fairy Stories Are for Children…Right?

In Tolkien’s time as well as in ours, fairly-tales are considered children’s literature. But Tolkien protests, asking, “Is there any essential connection between children and fairy-stories? Is there any call for comment, if an adult reads them for himself? Reads them as tales, that is, not studies them as curios. Adults are allowed to collect and study anything, even old theatre-programmes or paper bags” (130). Here Tolkien rather sassily enquires why fairy-stories should be considered fit only for children. Why should it be abnormal for an adult to read a fairy-story for recreational rather than academic purposes?

He asserts that most good fairy-tales should be just as interesting to an adult as they are to a child. Otherwise, the story has probably been watered down or “adapted” for children, thereby robbing it of any real charm or power. In a well-crafted story, he says, you don’t need a “willing suspension of disbelief;” rather, you really do believe that in this world the author has pains-takingly crafted, the events of the story do happen. They are consistent with the laws of that sub-created world, and so long as the story is told well, anyone can enter into it with delight. So, in a word, no—fairy-stories are not primarily for children.

You Made It!

If you made it through this post, I heartily congratulate you! This was the densest, least-easily-applicable section of his essay, and it was still enjoyable, wasn’t it? (Right, guys? …Guys?) Anyway, it’s only going to get better from here, so be sure to tune in next week when we look at the purpose of fairy-stories. See you then!

Today’s Question: Can you think of a “fairy-story” that you’ve enjoyed as an adult?

Check out the next post here!

Source:
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays. London, Harper Collins, 2006.