So, What Was Aragorn's Tax Policy? Economic Philosophy in History and Fiction

 That question "What was Aragorn's tax policy" has been attributed to George R. R. Martin, and cited as an inspiration for his books. This, despite the fact that his books don't really answer questions of that nature. Though it does support my previous assertion that Martin is less trying to tear down fantasy and more trying to steer the genre in a better direction. While Martin writes a great deal about the political machinations of the courts: he mostly ignores questions of actual policy. The Westerosi economy is as much a mystery as the Gondorian one. But that mystery is lesser than it first appears. Because in fact, many clues about the economics of various societies within Middle-Earth CAN be deduced from the text.  I will be confining my analysis to the societies presented in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

Now the first clue to Gondor's economy is in Tolkien's text itself: Gondor uses money. The exact denominations are given, but they aren't particularly important. Gondor has a currency, made of metal. That is important. It is also significant that Gondor's currency is the only one known to be used in Middle Earth. Perhaps the Easterlings have their own currency, we cannot know for sure. It is also significant that Smaug lies on a bed made of coins: but the dwarves don't seem to care at all about these coins. They care only about the items with a use-value. The coins, clearly, have limited use for the dwarves: which makes sense if they can only be redeemed for value in the markets of Gondor. Of course, just because Gondor has a currency doesn't mean that all or even most transactions involve currency: most likely, the vast majority of trades are by barter. This was true for most of human history. The original function of currency was as a substitution for trade items that were immovable: such as land. However, there is no mention made of credit. The Hobbits pay for their rooms in the Prancing Pony, but the meal and beer seem to be included. This suggests that the value of resources is extremely low. This makes sense if most societies in this world do not even have a market economy. As indeed, neither the elves nor the dwarves seem to. 

An incident in The Hobbit illustrates how the non-human residents of Middle Earth view material possessions. Thranduil takes the Arkenstone, a large and valuable gem. Thorin becomes offended. However, neither party even bothers to tally up how much the Arkenstone is worth compared to any other item. Tolkien doesn't even bother to tell us what type of gem the Arkenstone actually is. One would think that would be important to the characters who are arguing over it. From the description it could be several different things: a star sapphire, jadeite, agate, jasper, quartz, or a pale turquoise. Obviously, those gems would have vastly different values given their wildly varying hardness and qualities. It seems to be an uncut gem as well, which would further decrease it's intrinsic value. Despite it's size, in other words, the Arkenstone isn't likely all that valuable: not valuable enough for two Kings to fight over. But, it's intrinsic value is not of concern to Thranduil.  He doesn't care what the stone is: only what it looks like. He wants the Arkenstone, because it reminds him of another gem: the Silmaril once worn by King Thingol of the Sindar. 

The Arkenstone's value for Thranduil then, is in it's use as a memento. But what about for Thorin? Well, he's a dwarf. Dwarves, above all else, like to craft stuff. Furthermore, the Arkenstone is a symbol of his clan. So again, the Arkenstone's value for Thorin has nothing to do with it's intrinsic value. It's value for him, is as a symbol of power and as a potential crafting material.  A market economy then, simply wouldn't make sense to either Thranduil or Thorin: demonstrating their inhuman psyches. So what does this mean for Gondor then? well, full-blown capitalism simply wouldn't function in this world. You can't make people pay for milk with gold if elves will accept feathers as payment or dwarves will accept seaglass. Gondor's market economy then, such as it is, must be confined to those things that humans consider luxurious or special. Even here, prices can't be firmly fixed. An elven merchant might want silver coins over gold, and a dwarf might be more concerned with the gold's purity than with the coin's established value. Haggling would be the norm, and non-standard forms of payment would probably be acceptable.

So what is Aragorn's tax policy? well first of all...does he even have one? Does the King of Gondor levy taxes? One might think "well duh, he's a king, of course he does". Actually however, the evidence points to the answer being "no".  But wait...the Kings of Gondor are wealthy. Look at the grand palace, look at the clothes they wear and the priceless jewels they are crowned with. They have staff, who have to be clothed and fed. Well yes, but the mere fact that they have wealth does not imply they are taxing their subjects. Elendil brought staggering wealth with him, when he fled Númenor: wealth which has been invested over time. Aside from this: Aragorn inherits all the wealth of Elrond and Galadriel as well. In other words, Aragorn doesn't need a tax policy. He has more money than he knows what to do with dumped on his lap. The Ring of Barahir alone, a ring forged in Valinor, is worth more money than exists in the world today. The Elessar from which he derives his throne-name, is not only an intrinsically valuable gemstone but also magical. If Aragorn is levying anything, it is soldiers: not taxes. This then is the answer. Aragorn's "tax policy" is military service. 

See, the thing about Aragorn is that his position is technically not what was called a "king", historically. In Latin, the term "rex" denoted a tribal chieftain: although it is usually translated in texts as "king".  While I've been calling him the King of Gondor here, he's technically not that at all. He is the King of the Reunited Kingdom: not truly a successor to Eärnur, but to Elendil. This means he is not a "king", but a High King. Indeed, his full title is spelled out in the King's Letter quoted in the Appendices to LotR: "Aragorn Elessar, King of Gondor and Arnor and Lord of the Westlands." What this actually means is that his Kingdom was even larger than that of Elendil: for it included what had been the realm of Lindon in the Second Age, and had become Rivendell and Lothlórien. Of course, the elves who had inhabited those realms in the Third Age were now gone: and Rivendell itself was now uninhabitable without the power of Vilya to hold back the furious Bruinen. However, the point remains: Only Rohan and Mirkwood were not under his rule in any shape or form. 

Unlike the Kings of Gondor, Aragorn has sovereign leaders as vassals: Thain Peregrin Took, Mayor Samwise Gamgee of the Shire, Master Meriadoc Brandybuck of Buckland, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, Prince Faramir of Ithilien, King Bard II of Dale, and King Dain Ironfoot of Erebor. He was in this sense a High King as that term was used historically in the real world. This is a position very different from that of the medieval monarch we associate with the word "king".  His realm is far more akin to the Commonwealth of Great Britain, and his authority is similarly limited. Aragorn is not so much a direct ruler, at least outside the city of Gondor or the rebuilt Annuminas, as he is a military and cultural leader. His role is primarily to defeat Sauron's forces, and to be a model of righteous behavior. In other words, everything the rulers in A Song of Ice and Fire are decidedly not. But this does make him akin to the Biblical kings of Israel: who again, were technically High Kings. They ruled over the twelve tribes of Israel, each of which had it's own sovereign ruler. 

So Aragorn is not levying taxes. If he is levying anything, it is soldiers. His underlings might or might not tax their people: the hobbits don't seem to pay taxes, and it would be surprising if the Princes of Dol Amroth levied anything since again their wealth derives from Númenor. No dwarf would willingly hand over gold, no matter how much he loved his King. The Kings of Dale don't seem to have any wealth to speak of, nor do they seem to much care about acquiring it.  Only Faramir might be levying taxes, since he needs to rebuild Minas Ithil, and that's a big IF. Faramir's family also has Númenorean wealth after all, presumably invested in Emyn Arnen. Indeed, given their suspicious habit of naming themselves after people specifically tied to the hero of the first age Húrin Thalion, it could be that Faramir's family is illustrious indeed: and in possession of artifacts that could rival the Ring of Barahir for value. They may not be hurting for money in the slightest, so he might very well be only levying labor.

It is not the King's job to see that the city streets are clean, or the sewer is working: presumably Minas Tirith has a mayor.  This is the person levying taxes in order to ensure public services then. In ancient and medieval times, this tended to be how things worked. Only in modern times do states concern themselves with infrastructure, with a few noteworthy exceptions like the ancient Persian highway system. This is of course because ancient states rarely had any infrastructure large enough that it was necessary to pay for it by levying taxes. Even Rome paid for it's roads with the loot from foreign conquests, not through taxation. 

Without full-blown capitalism, Gondor doesn't need to provide welfare services the way that Rome did. Bread and circuses are not required. Additionally, it should be noted, wealth cannot buy you power in any way shape or form.  There are no elections, and offices cannot be bought. Neither can marriages: the concept of a bride-price or dowry does not seem to exist. There are poorer and richer citizens of Gondor, but no one is so poor that they must depend on the state for assistance. It's not even clear that land is bought and sold. Even if it is, during the reign of King Elessar the price of land would plummet. The freeing of Ithilien from the orcs would open up lands that have been off-limits for centuries. Éomer and Faramir would be giving away land left right and center as they pushed the orcs back farther into Mordor. Anyone willing to work hard, would be able to get themselves a plot. At the same time, Aragorn is also opening up lands in the Northern Kingdom. For those who don't want to farm, a townhouse in Annúminas and plenty of work would be easily attainable. 

For the past few centuries, Gondor has been desperately clinging to the Anduin river valley. Other settlements existed on tributaries. The Shire is cut off, an island of peace in a sea of turmoil. The lands of the North are inhabited only by wights and regrets, with the Kingdom of Dale as the sole remnant of the splendor that was Arnor. It is a world grown cold with paranoia, which even the events of The Hobbit did little to thaw. This is the world created by the Witch King, at the bidding of Sauron. But in this cold world some lights still burn. Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and the Dúnedain. A web of light is woven centered on Rivendell, and the undying love of Elrond for all his kin. It is not hope that keeps the men of Gondor fighting, but pride. It is not hope that makes Aragorn and the Rangers get up each day and watch the borders, but love. It is not hope that keeps Galadriel fighting Sauron, but sheer bravado. Hope has to be brought in from outside of the world, by Gandalf. 

The situation at the end of Return of the King could not be more different. Hope reigns in this world, and spreads out over all the world. King Elessar is not merely a beacon of hope for the men of Gondor, but for all the Free Peoples. And indeed, for those who were once Sauron's subjects too. He makes peace with the Haradrim, and retakes Umbar for Gondor. The downfall of Sauron is the end of the cold and dark, the end of night and the beginning of day. It is not the end of evil for all time, of course. It is however a golden age, a time of hope for the future. In short, King Elessar creates the social conditions necessary for people to be good. They have a leader they can trust, full bellies, and the promise of a better future. Anyone can be generous, forgiving and kind in those circumstances. Even the most uncaring people have no reason to be cruel if there is neither scarcity nor animosity. Only the most twisted would have any reason to cheat, kill, or steal: and they would be rightly afraid of Aragorn's wrath. This is why they call him "Envinyatar", which means "redeemer".

An economy based on wages presupposes that if wages aren't paid then no one will work. It supposes that people are intrinsically lazy. Biology contravenes this idea. Animals, and we are animals, are hard-wired to work for their livelihood. The idea of taxes presupposes that people need money as a motivator: either it's a bribe to the state, or it's a means for the state to bribe private actors. But Aragorn needs no such extrinsic motivation. He has been protecting and nurturing his vast kingdom for his entire life, without pay or thanks. Love and hope, and a thousand years of simmering righteous anger, are all he needs to get up and push the frontier forwards every day. Nor does it seem likely the men who follow him have a need for such crude motivators as money. "what was Aragorn's tax policy?" is thus entirely the wrong question. The real question is why do we think he needs one. 

Tolkien was making a point about human nature. It's not hard to be good when you live in a good society. When all the incentives are for being kind, very few people will refuse to show kindness. If you have it good, it's easy to feel generous. The harder things are for you, the harder it is to feel that you should help even those less fortunate than yourself. And if you cannot trust your country's leaders, it's hard to trust your fellow citizens as well. Paranoia is the cause of most atrocities in the world. Anyone can become a concentration camp guard with the right mix of paranoia and ego-mania: unless they actively resist such thinking. Science bears out Tolkien's conclusion. Perfectly normal college students were willing to give their fellow students, who had done nothing wrong, electric shocks that would result in severe burns. But while all of this sounds bleak, it's really not. What if I told you that we have been able to feed the world since the Bronze Age? 

Greedy kings and then corporations have taken what the people produced, and wasted it. There, that is the history of the Iron Age and the Industrial Revolution, the modern age and the postmodern age in a single sentence. The people of Gondor might call Aragorn a "king", but he is not a king as we tend to think of them. Nor is he the product of Tolkien's vision. He is Isaiah's Messiah. Funny what you realize when you try to translate Christmas Carols. Not the Christ of the Gospels, but the Emmanuel spoken of in the final book of the Old Testament: a warlord with divine powers of healing and inspiration. If such a man were to exist in the real modern world, he would not be called a "king". But perhaps he might be called "commandante". 

Beren: Myths, Masculinity and Metaphors

Beren Erchamion is one of the heroes in The Silmarillion. He is a failure.  He fails at every task that is put before him.  Sure, he survived the valley of giant spiders called Nan Dungortheb (the name means Fear-Shadow Valley): although obviously not through any skill of his own because he doesn't have any. Certainly, he cannot claim to rival the likes of Maedhros or Fingon. Yet he earns the love and respect of people of far greater social status and accomplishments. Surely Luthien, Princess of Doriath, has better options than this loser right?

When Beren asks for Luthien's hand in marriage, we get a pretty typical fairy-tale response: her father, Thingol, sets Beren a seemingly impossible task (in this case, obtaining a really shiny gem called a Silmaril). But Tolkien then immediately upends our expectations, by having Beren openly mock Thingol's greed. Now, quick background for those who haven't read my other posts on the Silmarillion: Thingol is the King of the Sindar elves, and the most powerful elven ruler in Middle Earth. Thingol would have been within his rights to chop off Beren's head right there. Fortunately for Beren, he's not that kind of guy. Still, mocking the guy you hope will agree to be your father-in-law in front of his whole court is maybe not the best life decision there Beren.

Or is it? Why is he saying this? is it just because he thinks Thingol is shortsighted and greedy? is it because he thinks Thingol is overrated? is he trying to get himself killed? No, he's saying this for Luthien. She presumably isn't all that happy that her father has decided to sell her off for a fancy gemstone, or that he's trying to get rid of her boyfriend. Now, JRR Tolkien put the name "Beren" on his tombstone, and the name "Luthien" on his wife's.  So, this is clearly Tolkien dunking on ancient myths like the story of Jason and Medea, and on the real-life fathers who actually did do this. He's pointing out how misogynistic this setup is, because it implies that the woman's value is the same as that of the object. The value of a Silmaril can be quantified: an expert in gemstones could assess it, and assign a price to it. A really high price, but a price nonetheless. Thingol is therefore setting a price on Luthien: which is tantamount to slavery. A person's life has no price, it can't be assigned a value.  Sure, you can assign a price to a person's labor: tally up all the hours of work and assess how dangerous or strenuous it was. However, that is not equivalent to the value of their life. A person's life is, in the most literal sense of the word: priceless. Luthien is a woman, not a rock. Beren is demonstrating here that her will is more important to him than Thingol's approval.

How does Beren fare? well, he does manage to wrest a Silmaril away from the big bad Morgoth: but for his trouble he gets his hand bitten off by a giant wolf. The hand that was carrying the Silmaril. Now, if Beren was a hero in a Greek myth he would either try to trick Thingol, or try to slay the wolf and retrieve the jewel. But Beren is not the hero of a Greek myth. He comes back to Doriath empty-handed. Now again, this doesn't seem particularly smart.

Why come back, if he hasn't succeeded? Because all along, he wanted Luthien to be the agent of her own fate. Luthien is very talented, and extremely capable: and Beren knows this. He saw it in her as she was dancing and singing. She does not know her strength yet however. She does not think she is capable: she calls herself a nightingale. A small and timid bird. But the elvish word for nightingale literally means "daughter of twilight", and the word Luthien means "enchantress".  Twilight in elven culture has a special significance: as it is the time when the sky resembles the one the elves first awoke under, before the sun and moon existed. Indeed, the sun and moon were created within Luthien's lifetime (although before Beren's time).  Her nickname therefore means more than she realizes. This feeling of hers is understandable, she's comparing herself to her mother: a perfectly normal thing for a girl to do. But Beren isn't comparing her to her mother, or to her father, or to anyone else. None of us can see ourselves accurately. Looking from the outside, Beren sees her as she truly is: both her virtues and her flaws. He wants her to make all the important choices, he wants to follow her.

Beren gets the nickname Erchamion meaning "one-handed", presumably from Thingol's jeering courtiers. This is, for elves, a fairly vicious insult. It's a constant reminder of his failure, of how incapable he is. A constant reminder, that he is powerless to get what he wants: that in the eyes of the world, he is not worthy. But Beren is not the kind of man to pity himself. His mind isn't focused on their words as he kneels before the King, to him all that matters is Luthien. She is inspired by his fearlessness and humility, and angered by the way the others are treating him. She won't get the Silmaril to buy her freedom: but she will do it to teach her father a lesson. And so she does.

What lesson?  That compared to his daughter, the Silmaril is worthless. It only caused suffering for Beren and for her: and ultimately it will only cause suffering for Thingol himself. In trying to sell off his daughter, Thingol has put that price on himself. He will later be betrayed and killed by a group of dwarves, so they can have the Silmaril. By undervaluing his daughter, Thingol diminished himself. The slave owner, is only worth as much as he believes his slave is worth: but the slave is worth more.

Now Thingol is not a villain: like most of the characters in Tolkien's stories he is a well-intentioned person blinded to the harm his actions cause by a variety of factors. The most important in this case, is his social position: Thingol is a King. Of course he is tempted to view his daughter through the lens of how she can help him gain or maintain power. He probably wanted her to marry his faithful herald Mablung, or perhaps his cousin Thranduil (yes, Legolas' father), or perhaps a son of his brother Olwe.  Maybe he was open to her marrying a human, but Beren would not have been his choice. Although Beren is royal, his father Barahir is the King of the Bëorings, he's the second son. In addition, Barahir has lost his lands to orcs and most of his tribe has been killed. And they're too far away to be of any use to Thingol as allies. Beren is no hero, and won't inherit anything. To Thingol, he's not worth much.

But to Luthien, Beren is worth risking everything. Why? because he understands what is truly important in life. He is a true hero, not because he is capable of great deeds: but because he has the courage to face the truth, to show himself as he really is. She's a Princess, she's used to having people kiss up to her. But it says something about her that she prefers honest Beren to her father's courtiers: even the kindly and talented musician Daeron. He has the courage to allow her freedom: unlike her father who is trying to use her to advance his political goals. Beren doesn't just accept that she has a will of her own: he actively wants her to exercise it. To him, that is not an annoyance or an inconvenience: it is a good thing. He doesn't just recognize that she is capable of doing things he can't do: he actually wants her to do them.

He is surely aware that he will inevitably live in her shadow: the power imbalance in this relationship is legitimately hilarious. Not only could Luthien kill him before he knew what hit him, she also wouldn't have to. I mentioned earlier how she defeated the Big Bad of the story: Morgoth. How did she do it? she did a magical dance and he fell asleep. Luthien has supernatural powers of seduction and persuasion inherited from her mother, Melian: who is an actual angel. Charming Beren would be ridiculously easy in comparison. But, she doesn't need to do that even because this man will treat her right without being told to or threatened or charmed or anything. He will love her because she is more capable than him in every way, not despite that fact. She would never need to violate his autonomy, because he would never even think of violating hers. Because he will humiliate anyone who tries to negate her will without her needing to ask: no matter who they are or what the consequences of that action might be. Because he has no trouble showing the world how vulnerable he is, and indeed how incapable he is. 

Why? because Beren knows a secret, a secret that many people never learn. A secret that isn't really a secret, just something that most people never realize because they are often told the opposite. Your value as a person does not depend on what you accomplish. You are valuable, too valuable to be assigned a price, simply because you are human. There is a corollary to this: the only thing necessary for you to be worthy of love, is to be loving. You do not need to be impressive, invulnerable, or fit some vision of perfection. You simply need to care about others, and some of those others will care about you. Beren knows that his value does not depend on him obtaining a shiny jewel from the devil. He knows that he is valuable simply because he exists. He knows that the only thing he needs to do to be worthy of Luthien's love, is to love her and show her that in everything he says and does. He may be a loser, but that is irrelevant.

So he embraces the insulting nickname he was given: and it loses it's sting over the years. It becomes a name associated with a loving husband and father, a gentle, passionate, humble man. He becomes a hero, not because he accomplished anything: but simply because of who he is. In a world of men who take what they want by force: Beren dares to admit that he cannot take what he wants, to instead be open to what others are willing to give him. In a world of men who will coldly take advantage of your weakness: Beren dares to show everyone how easy he is to hurt, and to not take advantage of others.  In a world of men who take away others' freedom for their own gain, Beren dares to defend other peoples' ability to make their own choices at the cost of his life. This inherent heroism heavily influences Beren's son Dior. Dior who will give his life so that his daughter Elwing can escape the siege of Doriath with the Silmaril, ensuring that it does not fall into the hands of Feanor's sons (who want it for bad reasons). He's one of the only characters in the entire mythos who has direct contact with the jewel, but does not become obsessed with possessing it (the others being Luthien herself, Eärendil and Elwing).  This can only be the influence of Beren.

Luthien's nickname isn't the only one with multiple meanings. See, "Eru" is a title for God: meaning "The One".  Erchamion therefore could mean "Hand of God".  This fits in the end. Beren disrupted the complacency of Doriath, questioning the way that the people there thought and acted. Beren's actions had cosmic significance. Thousands of years later, Frodo's life would be saved and the Ring prevented from falling into the hands of Sauron: thanks to the power of Melian the Maia, flowing in Beren's great-grandson Elrond. In Tolkien's narrative, it is women who bestow power on men: and it must be through their own free will. While this is a motif taken from Celtic mythology: Tolkien uses it in a unique way. Luthien is not bestowing power on Beren, but on her son Dior. It is not taken from her during the act of sex or some analog to it (see: Nissa Nissa in A Song of Ice and Fire).  Rather, she gives it through the act of childbirth, the act of creation. This seems to come about as the result of mixing this motif from pagan literature with the idea of the Immaculate Conception. Tolkien's religious beliefs seemed to center around the idea of creation: he chiefly expressed his love of God through love of nature and through the creation of Middle Earth (or "sub-creation" as he called it). The creative process was something he thought and wrote a lot about.  It was something which he felt the modern world was forgetting: like it was forgetting all sacred things. The ultimate act of creation is of course the creation of life. 

But here's the real kicker. In venerating the ability of women to create life: Tolkien also respects them as human beings. Tolkien's women are active agents of their own fate: indeed they and they alone have the power to change a person's fate. This is directly stated in the Silmarillion in the story of the Fall of Nargothrond. Orodreth, who has the gift of foresight, states that his daughter Finduilas can save Turin from his fate. This is an interesting motif to introduce because it goes against the normal characterization of fate in both Greek and Germanic mythology. In Germanic myth, the gods themselves cannot avoid their fate: and the same is true in Greek mythology. The idea that anyone can change a person's fate or save them from it is a very Christian one: but this salvific power is usually given to a male Christ. Galadriel's foresight saves Frodo and Sam in Cirith Ungol. For love of Arwen, Aragorn refuses the Ring and chooses to embrace his heritage: saving Middle Earth from quite a pretty pickle. Eowyn changes Faramir's fate: in order to marry a Princess, the Steward's son must become a Prince. Aragorn creates the title Prince of Ithilien for him.  Quite a modern notion, which reminds us that these are not ancient legends. 

It is of course understandable that feminists would blame the focus on reproduction for women's woes. However, that's just straight up wrong. There is no inherent reason why an individual or a society which venerated a woman's ability to reproduce would not also value women as human beings. Those two ideas are far from mutually exclusive: either logically or emotionally. When we give a person an award for military service, we do not assume that is all that person is good for. The same is true of giving women praise for reproducing. Likewise, when we award a soldier for military service we do not intend to say that all men should be soldiers. What, after all, is the point of soldiers if there are no farmers? Likewise, when a woman is praised for having children: that need not be the same as saying that all women must have children. It takes a village to raise a child after all: everyone should be contributing to the raising of the community's children, whether they decide to produce any themselves is irrelevant. Quit ragging on women for having kids, and quit ragging on writers who point out the obvious: that creativity is a feminine thing. They are not the problem.   

The conceptual link between sex and conquest is the foundation of women's oppression, not the focus on reproduction. We speak of the male sex organ as a weapon, and of penetrative sex as akin to killing. We've gotten hung up on those metaphors, repeating them over and over and over again: until we find it very hard to think in any other terms. No wonder then that men rape women solely to prove that they are men. No wonder then that media portrays women as sex objects: prizes to be won. Even media made for and by women: like "If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it". Note that Beyonce speaks of her body as "it", not "me".  No wonder that any trait deemed feminine is demonized. To be feminine is to be marked for slaughter: and to be a victim is to be emasculated. 

We do not however have to keep using those metaphors. Our language has a fantastic (indeed, mind-boggling) capacity for metaphor creation. We could speak of the vagina as embracing the penis: a metaphor both kinder and more accurate. Vaginas are not just holes after all, they are active organs. Explicit language need not be unkind language. 

We all have the ability to make new metaphors for ourselves, simply by speaking or writing. And many of us do this all the time. Our language even has a simple word for this process of creating new metaphors, a word with no really good translation in any other language as far as I'm aware: kenning. It's a present participle of the archaic verb "to know" which still has the same form in modern German: kan/ken. This is also, by the by, the reason we maintain a distinction between "able to" and "can".  If you can do something, then you know how to do it (but might not be physically capable): if you are able to do it, you are physically capable (but might not know how).   To make a metaphor for something, is to demonstrate that you know it. Or, as Einstein put it, "if you cannot explain it simply, you do not really understand".  As Einstein was a native German speaker, it should be assumed this was in fact exactly what he meant. Science is how we come to know things: but art is how we know that we know things. 

Creating new metaphors is how culture shifts and changes over time. Myths are the way that we encode and teach metaphors. Nietsche said that myths were useless because the metaphors they encoded were no longer applicable to modern people. Tolkien said: no, we simply need new myths. Yes, the metaphors encoded in the myths of olden days are well...strange and distasteful to us now. But we still need things in that style, of that kind: myths encoding new metaphors. Children still need heroes to look up to. Teenagers still fall in love with heroes and heroines. Adults still need models for how to deal with the situations they encounter in their lives.  The failure of our society to recognize the value of Tolkien's women shows only how deeply entrenched these old ideas encoded in old myths still are. But the true heroes in Tolkien's stories do not fail to recognize the value of these women: this is what sets them apart from the other characters in these stories. Furthermore, their brand of masculinity is precisely the antidote to the toxicity that permeates our society. Beren is a modern man, make no mistake: for Beren is Tolkien himself.

Maedhros: The Nontoxic Bad Boy.

It's a trope as old as stories: the bad boy. The handsome, mysterious, charming rogue. He appears in many genres: epics, romances, adventure stories, mysteries, even horror. Every culture has some version of him, but his characteristics vary wildly. He can be a villain, background character, anti-hero, or even the hero. Two things however define him no matter where he appears: physical beauty, and a dark past. Oh, and he is nearly always male. Only a few female examples exist, and most of them are very very modern. In Tolkien's stories, there are a few such characters: but the first and most important of them is Maedhros. One thing instantly stands out about Maedhros however: he has no romantic plot whatsoever. Usually when this character appears, one of the female characters in the story will at least start to fall for him. But Tolkien eschews this. Maedhros is famous for his beauty, and he's the High King of the Noldor. By conventional thinking, he should have women falling over him. But, the elven princesses he might have wooed, Idril and Luthien, chase human men instead. This is a level of realism we don't expect in fantasy stories, and in particular in fantasy stories from this early era. The darkness in Maedhros is real, he has committed atrocities and is permanently marked by them. He is hot-headed, dangerous, and greedy: almost draconic.

But is he evil? this is Tolkien, things aren't that simple. He is genuinely modest and kind as a friend, brother, and ruler. Maedhros is a ferocious opponent of the big bad Morgoth: so much so that Morgoth considers him threat #1. Fingolfin actually wasn't the first elf to give Morgoth a huge amount of trouble: and Maedhros actually lives to tell the tale. Furthermore, Maedhros is philosophical and empathetic: fully understanding and demonstrating remorse for his atrocities. Maedhros has killed his own kin. He did it out of loyalty to his father Fëanor, and Fëanor can be assigned blame for forcing this choice on his son, but nevertheless Maedhros made the choice to draw his sword on a Telerin elf.  He participated in burning the swan ships, beautiful works of Telerin art that are now lost forever: even if new ones have been created in their memory. Maedhros demonstrates his remorse for doing this. Yet, he also swears an unbreakable oath to recover the Silmarils, in memory of his father. But perhaps we can think Maedhros is simply overly devoted to his deeply flawed father right? well, nope.

Maedhros goes and draws his sword on elves once again: on the citizens of Doriath this time. He is driven by the oath that he made to recover the Silmaril: but this is a greater atrocity than the one before. The First Kinslaying was an act of desperation, the Valar's servants were coming to arrest Fëanor.  While Fëanor should have submitted to and gone with them, Manwë's blind dogmatism makes Fëanor's actions understandable if not justifiable. Maedhros' role in it was also significantly more justified: he was being asked to choose between his father and his cousins, of course he chose to follow his father. The second time, he is not only attacking without any prompting for the sole purpose of recovering an item: he is also attacking a kingdom that is already in turmoil, coldly taking advantage of it's weakness. But here, Maedhros is a reluctant participant. His brothers Celegorm and Curufin are the instigators, and they strong-arm him into going since he is the best military commander among the Noldor. They use his empathetic nature to convince him to lead the armies: pointing out that with him in command, fewer of their soldiers will die. While he knows that his brothers are cruel and don't actually give a damn about their soldiers: he also knows that they are right. Maedhros is disgusted by the carnage of the battle, and in particular by the actions of Celegorm's servants: who took the princes of Doriath, Elured and Elurin, to starve in the woods. Maedhros goes to try to find them, breaking off the search for the Silmaril, but fails to find them. So, that was the end of it right? Maedhros, disgusted by the deeds he was being coerced into committing swore off trying to find the Silmarils right? Wrong.

Maedhros once again drew his sword against elves: and this time was by far the worst morally speaking. This time, he drew his sword on Noldor. Maedhros is not just one of Fëanor's sons, he is the eldest. He was the High King of the Noldor, before being captured by Morgoth and giving up that title to his uncle Fingolfin voluntarily. Although it has been centuries since he had that role, that fact makes his assault on the Havens of Sirion particularly atrocious. You see, the Havens of Sirion are so called because this is a refugee camp. And among those refugees, are survivors from the fall of Gondolin: the city founded by Turgon, son of Fingolfin. While Maedhros comes seeking Elwing, a member of the Sindar: he kills Noldor and Sindar indiscriminately.  He was not strong-armed into this, Celegorm and Curufin were dead. While it's true that the people of the Havens would never give Maedhros the Silmaril: he could have been content that it had passed into the hands of Idril's son Eärendil, with his wedding to Elwing. He could have considered the oath fulfilled, for Eärendil was of the Noldor. Or at the very least he could have been patient, for Eärendil felt a kinship with his father's human ancestors.  He could have waited until the Silmaril passed into the hands of Elrond, Eärendil's son: and bargained with him.

Elves in Tolkien's stories do not truly die. If their bodies are not destroyed, they continue to exist forever. If they are "killed" their souls go to Mandos, where they wait to be reincarnated. Despite all the fighting Maedhros does, he has no particular need to fear this outcome. After Fëanor's demise, Maedhros managed to scare Morgoth so much that Morgoth felt the need to capture him through trickery. He withstood all of the torture which the evil Vala could dream up, and then survived an amputation without anaesthesia. He goes on to so ably defend the settlement at Himring, that it is one of the few elven strongholds to survive the terrible Battle of Sudden Flame. Both Curufin and Celegorm, his brothers, lose their homes in that battle. All this time I've been talking about him fighting, he's been fighting with his off hand. He's a skilled warrior with centuries of practice behind him. What Maedhros can't defeat with his sword, he can defeat with his mind. What Maedhros can't defeat, he can survive. He has no reason to believe that he would not live to see Eärendil's children grow up.  

This is the darkness which permanently marked Maedhros, and makes him the ultimate bad boy of Tolkien's mythos. He is not evil, but he is dangerous. The name I've been calling him by, comes from his two Quenya names: Maitimo Russandol. The first is the name his mother gave him, and it means "well-shaped one". The Silmarillion specifically defines this word, and says "as he was noted for his comeliness". 'Comely' is an old and very British word, and this is the only time in all of Tolkien's stories that this word appears. When applied to a child it means 'cute',  but when applied to an adult it means 'sexy'.  The second is a nickname which means roughly 'carrot-top', for his red hair. As among humans, this was an unusual and remarkable trait: though particularly common in the lineage of Finwë. Maedhros is a dangerous exotic beauty. People who are dangerous are attractive for a good reason: we all face attacks, physical, mental or emotional every day. Someone who has shown that they are capable of killing can protect you from those attacks. He is a perfect example of this bad boy trope that I started this post talking about.

But, he has none of the characteristics that we so often see in these characters in fiction of today. In particular, I'm going to call out Twilight and it's fanfic turned bestseller 50 Shades of Grey. Christian Grey and Edward Cullen are also excellent examples of this bad boy trope: and on it's surface there's nothing particularly wrong with that. The problem is that in addition to being dangerous, they are abusive. Indeed, both books go out of their way to make men who question these male leads look bad. In particular, Twilight presents Jacob as a viable alternative to Edward for Bella. Bella's logic for choosing Edward over Jacob is...well...mind-boggling even from the perspective of a girl her age (I was 16 when I read Twilight, I kinda almost barfed when I read that bit). As leaders both Grey and Cullen are tyrannical: enforcing their will with brutality or the threat of it.

When Maedhros saw that his brothers were starting feuds with his uncle's followers: he gently used this authority as the eldest of Fëanor's sons, to separate the two groups. This shows wisdom and sensitivity to the needs of others. His brothers knew that he would ensure that few of their soldiers would die: they know he cares deeply for others, and does everything in his power to protect them. He is self-aware, and because of his self-awareness he doesn't judge others. It's hard to be friends with someone who has authority over you: but it can be done if that person is conscientious in how they use their authority. Fingon is Maedhros' vassal, and his close friend: who cares so deeply about him, that he's willing to risk imprisonment and torture by Morgoth. This, of course, mirrors Sam and Frodo in Lord of the Rings. Fingon, like Sam, would not care for someone who used his power in an abusive way.

Grey and Cullen, isolate themselves and the women they love from others: and they are generally regarded with hostility or even fear by others. Maedhros could not be more different. He was a consummate diplomat. After Morgoth destroyed many of the elven lands, including the strongholds of Curufin and Celegorm, it was Maedhros who gathered the survivors to lead a counterattack. This, in a time when most elves did not treat with either humans or dwarves: and indeed spoke of them with barely disguised contempt. This speaks to his empathetic nature, as empathy is the only possible way to bridge such a species divide. It was also despite the hatred which King Thingol of the Sindar had for him and his brothers due to their actions during the First Kinslaying.  Still, Maedhros received assistance from Thingol's own herald Mablung.  This speaks to both his charm and his genuine repentance for his actions. Maedhros never sought power, he never had to. Power was given to him because he deserved to have it: and when he felt he did not, he gave it up. 

Maedhros' flaws were the same as his father's: greed, and stubbornness. But, in many ways he was different. He was smarter, a master tactician and tactful diplomat. He was more self-aware: and because of his self-awareness, non-judgemental. Fëanor was purposely blind to his flaws, and used violence against people who had the temerity to point them out. Maedhros could be passionately angry, but never directed his anger at people who criticized his character or his ideas. It's this last characteristic that especially makes him stand out from other examples of the archetype. Very often, the reason why these "bad boy" types are loners, is because they are abusive. They are toxic, tyrannical, enforcing their will through brutality. Their lack of adherence to social codes is attractive, but it hides an abusive personality. Maedhros is none of these things. If he were, Thorondor the Lord of the Eagles, would not have helped Fingon to save him. If he were, Mablung would not have shown up ready to take his orders. No, Maedhros isn't a loner because he is abusive. He's a loner because he refuses to taint anyone else with his sins.

Maedhros represents, I think, Tolkien meditating on the idea of guilt: and ultimately his rejection of guilt as useless. Maedhros feels guilty, yet keeps committing the same sin over and over again. His guilt is totally useless in modifying his behavior. Changing your behavior requires revising your understanding of who you are. Maedhros refuses to define himself as anything other than Fëanor's son, and so he continues to pursue Fëanor's ridiculous quest for the Silmaril. A surprising message coming from a devout Catholic such as Tolkien. But, perhaps not so surprising. While there was always a slightly unhealthy amount of guilt-tripping in the Catholic tradition: it has increased since the time when Tolkien was a child (back in the Edwardian era!) As the Catholic church has lost power, it has been tempting for many in it to double-down on this guilt-tripping.  Tolkien must have noticed this trend, and I think he is perhaps warning against it. Like most of his warnings, it went unheeded.

Yet, Maedhros is also a send-up of the belief that empathy alone can create solidarity. The difficult truth of activism is that it cannot. Maedhros feels passionately, deeply, for the Sindar. Yet, he attacks them again and again. He feels for them, yet takes advantage of their suffering. Why? he does not question the forces that are larger than himself which push him into conflict with the Sindar again and again. He refuses to renege on the oath he made to recover the Silmarils, even though he is fully aware of how horrible the atrocities he has committed in the pursuit of this goal are. He has empathy for the Sindar, but does not feel solidarity with them. They stand in the way of his goals, and he is unwilling to give up or even question those goals because of his empathy. It takes something more than empathy to create solidarity. Solidarity is believing that working for someone else's cause benefits your own. As much as Maedhros feels bad for what he's doing to the Sindar, he cannot see how leaving them alone or even working with them could benefit his cause. Eärendil is wiser. When he learns that Elwing has the Silmaril, he cooks up a scheme with her to get it to Valinor. He understands that working with her is better than working against her.

Of Many Blessings A Great Curse: Fingolfin's Divine Wisdom.

The Silmarillion, or to give it it's full name: I Quenta Silmarillion. A book that collects the material J.R.R Tolkien left unfinished, into a semblance of a story. It's not an easy read, but it's an important one if you want to understand Tolkien's mythos. Most people who read The Lord of the Rings are left hungry for more, drawn into the stories because these stories speak about the troubles we all face. And despite it's grand scale and disappointing lack of detail on occasion, the Silmarillion also contains stories that speak to us. Few moreso than the story of Fingolfin.

Finwe was one of the first elves, those who were not born but who awoke under the stars at Cuivenen. He accepted the invitation to Valinor from the Vala called Orome. The Valar are kind of like a cross between the Judaic idea of angels, and the ancient Norse idea of gods. Valinor is their homeland. Finwe followed the Vala alongside Ingwe and Elwe, on a long journey westward. At it's end was Valinor, lit by the magical trees Laureling and Tyelperion. Finwe, Ingwe and Elwe returned to the elves at Cuivenen, and persuaded them to take the long journey to Valinor. It took the elves centuries to make the journey, but they do not die of old age and so did not rush. The people of Elwe did not finish the journey, tarrying in villages and forests or taking to the sea but landing on the islands. The elves who dwelt on the islands would become known as the Teleri, and those who lived in Middle Earth would be known as the Sindar. Finwe and Ingwe finished the journey with their people, and set up homes in the lands of Valinor. Finwe married a woman named Miriel, and had a son with her: Curufinwe, nicknamed "Feanaro" or Feanor.  After bearing him, Miriel wasted away and went to the House of Mandos. This is what elves do instead of dying, their souls are bound to the world and so the house of the Vala Mandos is a peaceful resting place for them. Finwe married again to Indis from the tribe of Ingwe, and had two more sons: Ngolofinwe and Arafinwe. Ngolofinwe would eventually become known as Fingolfin. Some said Feanor caused Miriel's weakness, they said he had stolen her strength.

But that was only the first of the troubles Feanor caused. He made three gems in which he had trapped the light of Laureling and Tyelperion. They were beautiful, the most beautiful things ever made by elvish hands: so everyone agreed. So beautiful that Melkor, one of the Valar [also secretly evil], wanted them. He turned Feanor against the other Valar, making him believe that they didn't truly care about the elves but only their usefulness as servants. He wanted to get Feanor away from the protection of Finwe, Finarfin, and others. Then he destroyed the Two Trees. Feanor's Silmarils were the only pieces of them left: but Feanor would not part with the jewels. For this, Feanor was exiled. Angry, Feanor went to Alqualonde and stole ships from the Teleri elves there, killing some of them in the process. The Kinslaying. Though Fingolfin went with Feanor and participated in the Kinslaying, Feanor was too much in a rush and abandoned his brother. Fingolfin might have turned around and begged forgiveness of the Valar. But he did not.

Fingolfin chose to look on his brother with different eyes. So, he chose to lead the people who followed him across the Helcaraxe: the bridge of ice that connected Middle Earth to Valinor in those days. Meanwhile, Manwe had caught wind of Feanor's actions and cursed Feanor's family. Fingolfin was thus cursed, though less strongly than his brother. He had no desire in his heart to own the Silmarils, it was enough for him to admire his brother's creations and be proud of his connection to someone so skilled. He simply understood something that Manwe did not: it is never right to wrong someone just because they have wronged you. That simply escalates the conflict: it does nothing to solve the problem.  As Feanor's brother, it was Fingolfin's duty to support him. Just because Feanor abandoned him, didn't mean he should abandon Feanor. He decided to instead use their exile as an opportunity to defy evil directly.

Fingolfin chose to challenge Melkor to single combat, knowing he would lose. Now, Ngolofinwe means "Wise Finwe" in Quenya, so we must investigate this action. On the face of it, it seems stupid. He's the King, and he's going to ride to certain death in front of his people who have no home in this new land. What? Ah, but all is not as it first appears. Feanor's masterwork has been turned into a curse. Now Fingolfin's masterwork will turn the curse into blessings. He cannot keep Manwe's curse from taking effect: Fingolfin does not have the divine power of the Valar. What he can do, is modulate his own behavior. Manwe has cursed the creations of the Noldor to fade, be lost or destroyed. Fingolfin is going to turn that curse into the source of their strength. The strength they will need to oppose evil and defeat it, the strength to do the job the Valar are unwilling to do. Fingolfin is challenging Melkor, but he is also challenging Manwe. His actions are an indictment of the Valar and their self-centered ideology. This is necessary, because the Noldor have every reason to be angry with the Valar and Manwe in particular: even though they have done something very wrong, and which they know is very wrong. If this is not addressed, then the Noldor will be vulnerable to the manipulations of Melkor. But that is not all. He is also showing them the proper course of action in the face of suffering.

Indeed he was showing the proper course of action in the face of suffering not just to elves, but also to the Valar themselves. Elves have no reason to fear death, they go to Mandos when their bodies are destroyed to live peacefully in the blessed lands. But that does not mean they will necessarily oppose evil, or that they cannot be tempted into evil. Indeed, it means there is also no end to their suffering. That is the tragedy of elves which gives them their aura of mystery: they, like the Valar, are bound to the world forever. They must heal or go mad, and Melkor can easily hijack the process of healing from grief. He has every reason to do so. See, a mad elf is an orc. They are abused so much that they dissociate: the memories of their former elvish personalities locked behind a wall of rage and self-hatred. Orcs aren't evil because they are ugly, their bodily ugliness is the remains of the torture which turned them evil. Tolkien was intimately familiar with the ways that unhealed trauma could twist a person psychically or even physically: he'd seen his compatriots from the war destroy themselves with drink, obsessions and psychotic behavior. He furiously self-medicated with his art: and indeed that is probably the reason why his mythos seems so vivid. It was born from pain: not really constructed, but in fact begotten. And this leads me back to Fingolfin, through a concept that Tolkien called estel.

Take a deep breath, because we're about to dive into the linguistic deep end here. The stories that we know from the Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion are the mere tip of the iceberg when it comes to Tolkien. To him, they were secondary. To Tolkien, the whole point of the works were the languages. In particular, Quenya and Sindarin: the elvish tongues. Many thanks to the übernerd Helge K. Fauskanger and to the rogue of words Thorsten Renk. Thanks to their websites Ardalambion and Parma Tyelpellassiva I've been able to learn a lot about linguistics, through Elvish, and was able to work out this derivation. We start with a Base, a skeleton from which to form a word. Our word estel is Sindarin, but it seems to be a rare example of a borrowing from Quenya: which narratively makes sense, since this concept is connected to the Valar and Valinor. It would have started it's evolution as the Base SED, a proto-word that suggested the idea of "rest" or "calm" to the elves. But this base would only suggest a momentary phenomenon, and a fairly minor feeling of mere calm (for example, it also gave us the Sindarin words sidh, meaning "peace" with the digraph "dh" indicating the sound "th" as in "the"). It would simply suggest a period of little activity. We need a strong word representing an enduring phenomenon, not suggesting a lack of activity but rather an attitude of obstinate serenity that seems to defy logic. We need ESEDE: with the stem vowel reduplicated twice, both prefixed and suffixed. And we need a noun, while this base could represent any part of speech. There are several nominal suffixes, but the one we need is "-la", a suffix denoting a tangible thing: because we are talking about an attitude that can be spread to other people, not an emotion. Now we have a word: êsedela. The middle vowel in a word like this usually drops out: giving us esdela. Finally, short vowels at the ends of words had a tendency to drop out in Elvish, so we get esdel. In Noldorin Quenya, the cluster "sd" turned into "st", the "t" being influenced by the voiceless "s" giving estel.  In Vanyarin Quenya the opposite happened, and so the word turns out as ezdel: with the "s" being influenced by the voiced "d".

Either way, we have a word that is not readily translatable at least into modern English. The Greek word αποκαλυψε (apocalypse) comes close. Calypso is a verb meaning "to turn", and "apo" means "upwards". The upwards direction then as now was associated with goodness and hopefulness. But this word is burdened with many connotations by modern associations: estel is pure, being newly invented. This concept of estel is what Fingolfin understands which Melkor, and Manwe and virtually everyone else in the world, does not. It is not a momentary phenomenon, a place of quiet where rest can be easily found. It is instead the ability to look at bad situations and see them as opportunities to do good: not reacting out of fear, dismay or anger, but instead reacting with grace and love. Fingolfin didn't simply understand the concept of estel: his death exemplifies it.

His valiant death is an example of someone acting out of estel when confronted with evil. Melkor's overwhelming power is not a source of fear for Fingolfin: it is instead an opportunity to turn Manwe's curse into a blessing, and to show others how to turn Manwe's curse into a blessing. If the creations of the Noldor are doomed to be consumed by the passage of time: then let them be consumed for the purpose of opposing evil. If the Noldor are doomed to suffer anyway: then they might as well do something that would inevitably entail suffering, like oppose evil. Manwe's curse, through the application of estel, can become the thing which makes the Noldor into an unstoppable force for good in the world. In the end, in fact, Fingolfin will force Manwe's hand: Finwe and Finarfin upon hearing of Fingolfin's death along with Eärendil will petition the Valar to put an end to Melkor. He will also inspire some among the Maiar (that is, the lesser angels who are servants to the Valar) to come to Middle-Earth and help the creatures there to face evil directly: these would become known as the Istari, or the wizards. Manwe's curse is indeed great, and it was made from Feanor's abuse of the Valar's blessings. Yet in Fingolfin's hands, the curse becomes a source of blessings: for the Noldor and for those who chose to stand with them. And when the final members of the Noldor leave Middle Earth, they leave Estel behind: quite literally. In order to hide his true identity, Elrond gave Aragorn the name "Estel". Aragorn represents estel for Gondor: turning that city's curse, it's location close to Mordor, into a blessing instead of a problem. Gondor's location makes it vulnerable to the forces of Sauron, true: but only if it's leader lacks the strength to oppose those forces. But if Gondor's leader has the will to oppose evil: then it is well placed to lead the fight against the orcs. 

Most beautifully of all, this mythos was and is estel for our world. Tolkien saw the demise of the horse as a draft animal, and the introduction of the gasoline engine: and he didn't like any of this one bit. But far from simply being a curmudgeon, Tolkien was prescient: his criticisms of modernism are not those of a romantic apologist, they are rather the same ones that postmodernists would make later on. He didn't hate everything new reflexively, nor did he have any rose-tinted glasses about the recent past. His criticisms can be boiled down into three things: 1) environmental degradation, 2) lack of attention to quality, 3) cultural insensitivity. But far from despairing and giving in to depression: Tolkien saw an opportunity to effect change. 

He is directly responsible for the paradigm shift of the 1960s, when inventors abruptly shifted from developing labor-saving devices to developing communications technology. Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring was published in 1954. It fired the imaginations of young people instantly: speaking to the deep-seated problems that they had with their parents' attitudes. They were not rebels without a cause: they were rebels with a very real cause, even if they could not put their cause into words. Tolkien and the Beatles don't seem like they could possibly have anything in common: but they were driven by the same deep-seated dissatisfaction with modernism, and this same idea of estel. Nothing ever written in the English language exemplifies the concept of estel better than the song "Here Comes the Sun". The puzzling line "and baby I say, it's alright" seems to even hint that this indeed what they were trying to convey. Why would the speaker need to assure his significant other that the sunrise was a good thing? because s/he views the sunrise as simply the prelude to more pointless pain. When Lennon sings "and baby I say, it's alright" he is saying that the sunrise will indeed bring pain, but the pain is something you can use. It is not just a thing that you must endure: you can turn it into something good through your actions. That is estel: the divine wisdom of Fingolfin.

Women in Tolkien-The Absurdity of The Modern Woman's Choice

Many have stated that JRR Tolkien's books are sexist because they lack female characters, and in particular female leads. The main characters of The Lord of the Rings, and the The Hobbit are indeed male. BUT if we take a look at Tolkien's extended universe, it becomes apparent that this is not really true. The importance of certain characters is deliberately understated but indirectly highlighted: while this is true of some male characters (Gandalf), it is true of nearly all the female characters. Why? because the society Tolkien is portraying is sexist. It does not value the choices and actions of women. But, who are the drivers of the plot? whose actions are the catalyst for the stories? predominantly, women: Miriel (who starts it all off), Galadriel, Arwen, Elwing, etc. Who saves the heroes at the plot-critical moments of the stories? Women. Who stand up to the biggest baddest baddies in the whole of the story's universe? women. Who makes the really difficult choices, the ones that change the fates of whole nations? predominantly, women. Where human, dwarven and elven males falter, women stand strong over and over again. The feminine's ability to create life is the defining characteristic of the "good guys": orcs can't reproduce, farm, or even produce equipment out of raw materials. Even Sauron does not create, he only manufacturers derivative works. He knows how to create, so he can show the elven smith Celebrimbor how to create the rings of power. However, he cannot actually create the Master Ring until Celebrimbor has completed the other rings: his work is derivative of the mortal elven smith's. Likewise, the orcs are not independent creations: they are tortured elves, all male and sterile. Mordor is a barren wasteland. Saruman can only raise the dead and mind-control the spiders, he cannot make the woods of Mirkwood grow like the far less exalted Thranduil can. Thranduil, who possesses no ring of power and no special gift from the gods, has created a paradisical garden realm: Saruman cannot do anything except corrupt it and destroy it.

In addition, the traditionally feminine traits of healing and nurturing are heavily associated with the most powerful heroes: from Fingolfin in the beginning, to Aragorn at the very end. Diplomacy, reconciliation, healing and forgiveness are the arms and armor of the heroes in Tolkien's fantasy. Being motivated by love is presented as a strength rather than a weakness. This reflect's Tolkien's own life experience. Waiting for the woman he loved, despite his surrogate father's objections: he was blessed by an unusually happy and fulfilling home life. Following his heart rather than what others deemed "practical", Tolkien ended up with a successful career. Writing what he loved, rather than what was considered "good" at his time, spawned an entire genre of literature. Bringing passion to his work, earned him the undying admiration of his students and colleagues, and revolutionized his field.  Adhering to his mother's chosen religion over the objections of his extended family and despite the church changing everything on him abruptly, brought him happiness and certainty even in the face of tragedies.
When Tolkien entered his lecture hall reciting the opening lines of Beowulf, his students were awed and electrified. Tolkien's translations of Germanic and Anglo-Saxon poems are still the gold standard: and it's not difficult to see why even for the non-expert reader. Tolkien did not simply translate the text: no, he translated the poetic meter. The words pulse with the passion that the medieval skalds invested in their art, and inspired other translators to do the same for the works they loved. Nowadays, the idea of a translation that closely reflects the original work's meter is not an unusual one: but only fifty years ago it was considered heretical. In his own time, Tolkien was called backwards. But anyone who says that should remember the other people who have been called "backwards" by their enemies throughout history, and the sticky ends of said enemies.
Tolkien is careful to give us a woman's perspective of Middle Earth too: Galadriel's monologue shows us the overwhelming nature of evil, and how vulnerable even (or rather especially) the greatest are. Galadriel's husband Celeborn is significantly silent: while her words might reflect their combined will, it is Galadriel's voice which is heard. Indeed, Galadriel serves as the promethean figure in this narrative: giving heavenly light to Sam. The vial she gives him contains the light of the Silmaril, which is the light of "heaven"(known in this setting as Valinor). She does this because she has the gifts of both foresight, and farsight: she can see into the future, and has been watching the progress of the Fellowship from afar. Far from being a passive observer however, Galadriel intervenes to give the Fellowship members important items that she knows they will need on their travels. The lock of her hair that she gives to Gimli is not just the gift of a celebrity to a fan, it's also a message to the Fellowship at large: I am watching. We can only speculate about what other moments in the books are influenced indirectly by Galadriel as she watches the Fellowship.
Galadriel also mentors another prominent female in the book: Arwen. It is significant that Elrond thought it bad for Arwen to be without a female role model, after the departure of her mother Celebrian. Arwen is Galadriel's granddaughter. It is with Galadriel that the book audience first meets Arwen: but even here she immediately impresses. We are not surprised that Aragorn is in love with her: Frodo, who is our narrator, is absolutely gobsmacked. By what exactly? By her poise and beauty yes, her elegance and the sense of mystery she radiates of course. Most importantly however, by the change that Arwen's presence effects on Aragorn. Frodo, to this point, was afraid of the ranger even after learning his name and identity. But when Aragorn leaves Arwen, he is preternaturally calm and his calm is contagious. Frodo's doubts about their mission are quieted, Gimli's anxieties are replaced with jolity. Merry no longer mentions second breakfasts or the privations of life on the road. Pippin is more Tookish (courageous) even than usual. Tolkien expertly shows the reader Arwen's inner greatness and her importance because of that inner quality via her effect on the other characters: even while the only attribute he mentions explicitly is her physical beauty.
Arwen is not some girl that the hero barely knows awarded to him as a prize for having completed the trials of the heroes journey. No, she has been there all along: helping him along the way. She is the reason that he can complete the trials. She is Ariadne, giving Theseus the magic string that allows him to complete the impossible task. Aragorn's task is equally impossible when the Fellowship of the Ring is first formed after the Council of Elrond. The trip to Galadriel's kingdom is not a side-quest, it is an integral part of the plot. None of Aragorn's later actions, and thus none of the later plot, would have been possible without that meeting between Aragorn and Arwen in Galadriel's house. Aragorn does get a prize: but it is the marriage that is the prize, not Arwen. Previously Aragorn was unable to settle down, and thus unable to support a family: his duty to protect the elven lands and assist the Gondorians took him far and wide. The very ability to marry someone is a prize. However, Arwen comes with rewards: she isn't just any woman. As the representative of Lord Elrond, she legitimizes Aragorn's rule in a way that nothing else ever could. As the brother of Elros, first King of Numenor, Lord Elrond is the only one capable of bestowing the crown that Aragorn wears. Thanks to Arwen, Aragorn is called Aran Elessar (Elfstone King) and can rule over Eregion (the region where Rivendell, the Shire, and Lothlorien are).  This area was not previously part of Gondor or Arnor's territory. He is the most powerful man that has ever lived in Middle Earth, but he was powerless to make that happen. Arwen gives him these gifts through her own choice: and this choice is one of the many b-plots of the books because she must work to convince her father that it is the right one.
What is Arwen's choice based on? this is not the choice of a 13 year old girl, rash and unadvised. Arwen is hundreds of years old, and has had well over a decade to consider her choice. It is not insignificant that Aragorn is a King. And indeed he's a king with a lot of work still left to do. Arwen sees an opportunity to exercise her creativity and leave her mark on the world, the thing that all elves in Tolkien's narrative want to do above everything else. Choosing Aragorn is not choosing marriage over career: Tolkien's setup questions the very idea of that choice. The choice that women in Tolkien's time were all too familiar with. Tolkien is pointing out the absurdity of that dichotomy. Women's choices are the foundation of politics, because they are the foundations of the society in which those politics arise. To choose to raise a family, is a political career. Arwen doesn't just want to be with the hero of the story: she has a political agenda of her own. Indeed, she is the one who has a political agenda: Aragorn is just sort of handed the crown and has never actually considered what he would do if he were king because he never thought it would happen. Probably thanks to Galadriel's foresight, Arwen is much more prepared. A person who claims to be a feminist cannot also claim that the so-called "empirical" measurements traditionally used by male critics for male-centered literature are beyond question. JRR Tolkien may not be a typical feminist author in the traditions that have been laid down by feminist authors since the 1970s: yet it would be ridiculous to dismiss this narrative that is radical in so many ways, including this one. His feminism is authentic and honest: because it springs organically from his life experience. His life experience that affirmed the importance of respecting feminine traits, women's perspectives and women's choices over and over again.