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Posts Tagged ‘j.r.r. tolkein’

And right now, except for my one commenter who is also reading Belloc’s Crisis of Civilization, nearly all of you are saying, “What the heck is distributism?”

For quite some time, I had heard that G.K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc were considered leading proponents of a “third way” of economics, neither capitalism nor communism.  The problem was, I didn’t really understand it.  It finally clicked a bit for me while reading Belloc’s book on the history of Christendom, Crisis of Civilization.  To be more accurate, Belloc starts with Christendom, moves into the Reformation and the previously tethered forces it unleashed (not, in Belloc’s perspective, as good as most of us were told in history class), and finishes with the state of the world in his day and how to fix it.

If you’ve heard Prof. Joseph Pearce’s conversion story, you’ve also heard of distributism.  As a young, functionally atheist, radical, racist, anti-Catholic, nationalist activist in Great Britain, he hated the communists, but didn’t have much of an answer to their charges that the nationalists were just doing the capitalists’ dirty work on the streeets.  A friend suggested to Pearce that he read G.K. Chesterton’s essay on distributism in The Well and the Shallows.  Well, the one essay was about distributism, but the rest of the book was a defence of the Catholic Church.  As Pearce notes, adapting a quote from C.S. Lewis regarding atheists, “A sound racist can’t be too careful of what he reads.”  Pearce became Catholic, and is now a professor at Ave Maria University, married to an American Catholic.  God, Pearce reminds us, has a sense of humor.

Anyways, back to distributism.

The problem with distributism is that it relies on a moral restraint that our modern society is sadly lacking.  (Frankly, if that moral restraint had remained strong, we wouldn’t be in nearly the financial mess we currently are.)  In some sense, distributism hearkens back to the early Middle Ages: trade was active and widespread, usury was forbidden, excessive competition was frowned upon, and massive accumulations of wealth were discouraged.  Those with some wealth (often in the form of land rents or taxes) had it because they were expected to be the front-line defenses for their area; the money came with the expectation of service.  Later, as the threat of warfare receeded, wealth was expected to be used to fund charitable activities (schools, churches, religious orders (who then taught schools, served the poor, cared for orphans, etc.)).

Sounds… old fashioned.  Hopelessly so.

I think another of my favorite authors knew a bit about the thing, though, because his vision helped me understand distributism.  Hobbits, I think, show a distributist system in action.

You would’ve had to have read the books to really get it, because, like so many other important details that the movie makers either thought viewers wouldn’t “get” or didn’t “get” themselves, these aspects of hobbit life were largely lost or re-written in the movies.

Think about it:

  • Hobbits frown upon excessive wealth.  It’s considered, at best, to be in seriously poor taste.
  • Those who are better off share generously with everyone around them.  Bilbo is known for handing out toys to children and being rather free with his money.  In fact (and the movies totally botched this), Frodo gives his large family home over to Sam’s growing family, saying that he’d rather see the home full of children again, and he doesn’t need Bag End all to himself.
  • Even less-well-off hobbits, including Sam Gamgee’s family before being given Bag End, have their own homes and gardens, however modest they may be.
  • Grubbing after money is seen as a nasty eccentricity.  Think of the Sackville-Bagginses.  They’re always envying Bilbo and Frodo for having Bag End, which they want for themselves.  Apparently, everyone else in the area knows it, too, and doesn’t much like the Sackville-Bagginses for it.
  • There is communal property, most notably including the Party Field.
  • There are very few instances of anyone working for anyone else, and, when they do occur, it’s a very friendly relationship.  Sam and his father consider themselves as friends and defenders of Bilbo and Frodo, who they work for as gardeners.

It isn’t communism, as some people have claimed.  Unlike communists (or at least communist theory), hobbits definitely have different levels of wealth, although nobody is in dire poverty and nobody is filthy rich.  Also, and this is a key distributist point, property is widespread; everyone has at least a home and a bit of garden to call their own.

Of course, when things go wrong, it also shows what the Shire’s economics are not meant to be.  When evil men take over the Shire, they start by playing on the miller’s greed for importance and the Sackville-Bagginses greed for power and money.  (And all those idiots out there who say the Shire was the ideal communist society should note that the Shire most mimics communism when the evil men take over and force everyone to work for the Boss, saying it’s for their own good.  Except it obviously isn’t.)  The hobbits are so surprised at the turn of events and the tightening noose of draconian rules that nobody tries to overpower the men in charge.

The Party Tree is chopped down, left to rot, and not even used for firewood.  Firewood is strictly rationed by the men, as is food, most of which has been collected to pay for the “services” of the new bullies.  When Frodo and his friends return to the Shire, they are greeted by desolation and scared, freezing, starving hobbits.  Yeah, communism is just great… if you’re part of the group in power.  The men don’t work, except for ordering hobbits about, and they’re comfortable and well-fed, unlike the hobbits, who they claim to be “helping.”

The problem with distributism is the problem Belloc notes with several declining societies: we’ve lost our moral underpinnings.  We no longer have the self-discipline to say, “This is enough money, property, house, etc.”  As a nation, we have indebted ourselves up to our eyebrows to get more house, more stuff, more junk we don’t need and hardly even want anymore.  Consequently, the government has been called in to tell us when we have enough money by heavily taxing the “extra.”

Self-discipline is not the same thing as government-enforced discipline, just as paying your taxes is not the same thing as giving to charity.

I’m not sure we are at a point when we could institute any form of distributism.  I would say that at least the idea of encouraging property ownership would be good… but we just tried that through a bunch of risky home loans that crashed our economy.  The distributists’ cry was, “Three acres and a cow,” but I just drove through some of the semi-rural areas around me.  Acres of front yard, and what do people do?  With very few exceptions, there were no family cows, large vegetable gardens, or even fruit trees.  Almost everyone put in a lawn and mowed it to a perfect, golf-course flat, useless green expanse, which made the acerage a financial liability instead of an asset.

And now we’re right back to the problem of not wanting normal things again.

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Thanks to WordPress’s nifty login page that highlights the “top posts”, I found a wonderful fan film for all you J.R.R. Tolkein lovers out there.

Seriously, this is major good stuff!  And wonderful for Valentine’s Day.

Ok, the love interest dies by the end, but you knew that, if you know Tolkein, because the fan film covers Aragorn’s parents.  As you find out in the appendix covering Aragorn and Arwen, Aragorn’s father dies when he is very young, and Aragorn and his mother find refuge in Rivendell.  Well, here’s how it happens.

The movie is called Born of Hope, and it is free on YouTube, although the film makers will gladly accept contributions to cover their expenses (the leader of the project put up her life savings, 25,000 British pounds, which one site converted as about $39,000).

I’m no movie critic, but this was really, really well done.  And, much more important for me, these people “get” Tolkein.

The website for Born of Hope is nicely laid out; you can read more about the film and view the YouTube version under the obviously titled “Watch the movie” option (just let it start buffering long before you start watching).

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Ok, this had very little to do with homeschooling, but they were a couple of great talks.  Prof. Joseph Pearce of Ave Maria University talked on “Finding Tolkein’s Catholicism in the Lord of the Rings” and “The Fight for a Good Education: A Matter of Life and Death” (coming tomorrow; I took pages and pages of notes on Pearce).

Pearce told his conversion story in This Rock.  To sum up, he was raised Protestant (sort of), became an atheist, joined a number of anti-Catholic organizations in Northern Ireland, made the “mistake” of reading G.K. Chesterton while in prison, then C.S. Lewis, then Tolkein… and converted to Catholicism.

Of course, nowadays, few people notice that J.R.R. Tolkein had any faith at all.  (A national Christian music station even aired a complete piece of drivel insinuating that the Protestant C.S. Lewis had “encouraged Tolkein to become a Christian and put his faith in his writing.”  Um, no, it was Tolkein who was key in Lewis’ conversion, actually.)  Many of the markers of Tolkein’s faith within his stories are not obvious.  Tolkein had a rather scathing disdain for allegory; in his essay “On Fairy Stories”, Tolkein argued against allegories where the author sort of winked over the heads of the foolish children at the adults reading to them.  That isn’t fair to the audience, he said, nor to the story.

In spite of that, Pearce pointed out, Tolkein did call The Lord of the Rings an “allegory of death and immortality” and, “… of course, a fundamentally religious and Catholic work.”  Tolkein also said it is an “allegory of power, particularly about power usurped for domination.”

Prof. Pearce opened with a discussion of the creation myth in The Silmarillion, which I’ve brought up before on this blog.  It opens with, “In the beginning, there was the One,” named Illuvatar (the “all Father”).  So, contrary to some analysis, Tolkein’s world is not atheistic, it is, in fact, both theistic and specifically monotheistic.  Pearce went on to discuss how Illuvatar introduced the music of creation, and Melkor tried to overwhelm it with his own disharmonies.  Illuvatar took even the disharmony and wove it into the plan.  When Melkor (“Mighty one”) finally falls into the void (in language echoing Isaiah’s description of Lucifer’s fall), he (like Lucifer (“Light bearer”)) loses his good name and becomes Morgoth, the “adversary” (“satan” is Hebrew for “adversary”).

Throughout Tolkein’s work, the ancient conflict between the serpent and humanity surfaces: Sauron is related to “saur” (Greek – lizard, remember: Tolkein was a linguist), Saruman is related to Sauron, Wormtongue is related to the Old English wyrm, which meant dragon.  (As Pearce said, when the old chronicles reported knights going out to fight “wyrms”, they weren’t stomping earthworms!)

Ok, you might say, those are old archetypes, maybe Tolkein was just tapping into our instinctive dislike of worms, snakes, and dragons.  How can you prove it’s all Catholic?

The clincher, from my point of view, is the issue of the dates.  When I first read it, I though it very odd that, suddenly, the text seemed to come to a screeching halt to point out a date.  Huh?  The hobbits didn’t seem particularly tied to dates or calendars… I had an odd sense that there was something the author was trying to tell me, but not being raised a particularly traditional Catholic, I had no inkling what.  The two specific dates that Prof. Pearce highlighted (there are others) were the date the Fellowship left Rivendell (Dec. 25- ring a bell?) and the date the One Ring was destroyed (Mar. 25).

The journey starts in earnest on Christmas and final victory comes on the date of the Annunciation, Mar. 25, when God took on our flesh in the womb of the Virgin Mary.  (Pearce commented that this was his one complaint against the Church: that we don’t properly celebrate the true feast of the Incarnation, which is the Annunciation, not Christmas, because life begins at conception.  (standing ovation)  He sort of laughed and commented that he didn’t get quite as positive a response when he said that at the University of Iowa.)

Tolkein, being a medievalist, would also have known of the medieval tradition that suggested that the Crucifixtion also took place on Mar. 25.  (The feast of Passover moves, based on a lunisolar computation that puts it on the 14th of the lunar month.  Given the uncertainty of the exact year of Christ’s crucifixtion, it is impossible to know what date it took place.  Medieval commentators hypothesized that it would properly round things out to have Christ’s incarnation and crucifixtion on the same date, the beginning and the end of his work.)

Prof. Pearce also drew a connection between the elves and Christians.  Both are immortal (the elves literally, the Christian spiritually), and both are living in exile, looking towards the more perfect land on the distant shore.  Galadriel, one of the leaders of the elves at the time of LOTR, says that she and her husband have “fought the long defeat.”  The world is fallen, and evil doesn’t stay beaten.  Having lived through WWI (“the war to end all wars”), serving as an officer in the trenches, Tolkein must have felt keenly that WWII was a perfect example of evil resurfacing after a defeat.

Prof. Pearce went into a number of other parallels between Catholic theology, tradition, and history (particularly Catholic history in England), but I’ll refer you to the website again for the tapes.

Just one last thought, which will make you look a little more suspiciously at your TV.  Remember the palantir?  These were the seeing stones; a person could look into them and communicate with others holding the other palantir.  Poweful people could bend them to look almost anywhere.  The elves created them to communicate, gifting some of them to the Numenoreans, who brought them to Middle Earth.  At the time of LOTR, Sauron has at least one of them, giving him a sort of override on what the other stones see.  He can’t show a lie, only control what part of the truth the viewer sees.  Thus, Saruman and Denethor are both convinced that the fight against Sauron is hopeless, based on what Sauron let them see in their palantir.  Prof. Pearce explained that Tolkein had been horrified by the propaganda spread by radio and TV during the World Wars.

The name “palantir” means “far seeing”.

The name “television” means “far sight”.  (tele- Greek, “far”.  visio- Latin, “sight”)

As I keep explaining to my kids about the news or the history books, it isn’t just what is said, it is how it is said and what isn’t said.  Part of the truth, slanted a certain direction, is still a form of lie.  How much of what we see do we trust?

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