"But when they were come into the Void, Iluvatar said to them: ‘Behold your Music!’ And he showed to them a vision, giving to them sight where before was only hearing; and they saw a new World made visible before them, and it was globed amid the Void, and it was sustained therein, but was not of it. And as they looked and wondered this World began to unfold its history, and it seemed to them that it lived and grew. And when the Ainur had gazed for a while and were silent, Iluvatar said again: ‘Behold your Music! This is your minstrelsy; and each of you shall find contained herein, amid the design that I set before you, all those things which it may seem that he himself devised or added…. I know the desire of your minds that what ye have seen should verily be, not only in your thought, but even as ye yourselves are, and yet other. Therefore I say: Eä! Let these things Be! And I will send forth into the Void the Flame Imperishable, and it shall be at the heart of the World, and the World shall Be; and those of you that will may go down into it.’ And suddenly the Ainur saw afar a light, as it were a cloud with a living heart of flame; and they knew that this was no vision only, but that Iluvatar had made a new thing: Eä, the World that Is."
Thus began the world of Arda, the world to which J.R.R. Tolkien truly belonged, the world of which he was scribe.
Trees which blossom pink in spring but are green in summer shade the waterside wildflowers and lush greenery from the vibrant sun which shines in the blue sky and the silver water of a pond. The mill which is fed by this water is not yet silent, so the pond is not yet congested with algae. But the millwheel does not disturb the water noticeably. Swans glide through the water and cause ripples which cleanse the surface of fallen leaves and insects. The buzz of the mill does not drown out the birdsong of the gentle countryside. Across the road is a small brick house, 5 Gracewell. Alike to many others, this house was not as tall as many of the trees which surrounded and perhaps overshadowed it. And inside this house or perhaps directly outside is a twenty-five-year-old Mabel Tolkien. She is the daughter of a prosperous-drapery-seller-turned-disinfectant-salesman and the wife of a piano-designer-turned-banker who, had he not died of a hemorrhage, would still have been in Bloemfontein, Orange Free State, which in under five years would be called Bloemfontein, South Africa. But in the autumn of just over five years, Mabel Tolkien will no longer live in this house nor this world. And the two children which resided with her will have been moved to a different household and, consequently, life. But they will not be taken as far as Mabel has been, not for a long time.
Birmingam
The children were Hilary Arthur and John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. John Ronald was the elder. Neither had a very clear memory of their African place of birth. John Ronald, born in 1892, was three when he first saw England, and had not a clear memory of that, either – most of what he could remember was a strange sense of homecoming. Hilary Arthur was born in 1894 and had even fewer images which he could recall. But the countryside into which they entered was to remain in their memories forever. The trees, the fields, the pond, the mill, “the White Ogre” who operated the mill, the blackberries – Sarehole Mill, Birmingham, was a garden of memories waiting to be plucked from their perches. Hilary later said of the days there, “we spent lovely summers just picking flowers and trespassing.” Indeed, this was nearly all that occupied them, and certainly enough to do so. But school would soon enter their lives.
When John Ronald was of the age to attend school, he found it very disagreeable. An attempt in 1900 led to nothing, and he was homeschooled by his mother until 1903, when he started attending King Edward’s School. This break from public education certainly did him more good than harm, however. His mother was more than capable of educating him, and taught him the basics of Latin, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and French, which, he discovered, he disliked. Mabel’s family had, at one point on their timeline, been engravers (John Suffield, Mabel’s father, could neatly write the entire Lord’s Prayer inside the circumference of a sixpence), and Mabel had acquired the elaborate handwriting of her ancestors. This she taught to John Ronald, who could read by the age of four and could write soon afterward. John Ronald grew into a handwriting style which perhaps surpassed his mother’s in elegance. Mabel was also a fluent pianist. John Ronald, however, did not enjoy this art, and, to quote Tolkienian Humphrey Carpenter in his biography of Tolkien, “It seemed rather as if words took the place of music for him, and that he enjoyed listening to them, reading them, and reciting them, almost regardless of what they meant." John Ronald did enjoy drawing and painting, both of which were taught to him by his mother. His favorite objects to draw and paint were trees and landscapes with trees within. But both he and his mother knew that his interest lay in words. It was in Birmingham that he first came across the Welsh language, which resided in his memory for his entire life and influenced much of his work. Even at such a young age he enjoyed the lessons on language more than any other.
But the pleasurable schooling of a young child at home was soon to end, for John Ronald’s mother joined her husband in paradise in November of 1904. The choice of school was not nearly as difficult as the choice of home. At first they were taken in by their Orthodox priest Father Francis Morgan, who was a close friend of their mother. However, although he was their father in the setting of the Church, he was not their father in terms of everyday life, and they could not live under him alone long. The boy’s Aunt Beatrice Suffield took them into her home in 1905. The children were, however, able to spend time with Father Francis, who, unlike Aunt Beatrice, showed true affection for the children, every day before school.
School and Language
Upon that note we now strike. School, in the mind of John Ronald, was better than it had been at first glance, as is often the case. He enjoyed it much more than he enjoyed the lackluster view of a thousand similar roofs which he had from the window in their Aunt Beatrice-appointed room. It was evident to his teachers that he had much academic promise, as it was to fellow students. He achieved first place in the 5th class in 1905. But what was perhaps more significant in John Ronald’s life was the boy who came in second place. His name was Christopher Wiseman. Christopher and he shared interests in Latin, Greek, Rugby football, and the art of discussion. Christopher Wiseman would become one of the most influential peers in John Ronald’s early life, and a son’s namesake.
Influential elders included the headmaster of the First Class, Robert Cary Gilson, and George Brewerton, a teacher who had perceived Tolkien’s interest in Chaucerian English. It was he who first lent Tolkien an Anglo-Saxon primer. Without it, Tolkien may never have become the legend he became. “Opening its covers,” writes Humphrey Carpenter, “Tolkien found himself face to face with the language that was spoken by the English before the first Normans set foot in their land. Anglo-Saxon, also called Old English, was familiar and recognizable to him as the antecedent of his own language, and at the same time was remote and obscure." Anglo-Saxon, or Old English, became an immense part of his life and writing, and without George Brewerton this immense part may have gone missing.
Tolkien flourished in his academic pursuits despite some endeavors off campus. With his younger cousin Mary, Tolkien created a language called “Nevbosh”, “New Nonsense”. But this could be considered “practice” for the flowering philologist; in 1907, at the age of 15, Tolkien invented his first serious language, which he called Naffarin. It was based upon Spanish and Latin, although the former was more prevalent in it. Although he did not use this language in many of his writings, it has found its way into a few. Unlike in this sense was a form of Gothic which he created from what he could find of the original language. He was to use Gothic and variations of it in much of his writing.
Edith
But Tolkien did have a life beyond the horizontal plain of paper; in early 1908, John Ronald and Hilary were let lodging in a house on 37 Duchess Road, by a certain Mrs. Faulkner. This house was occupied by Mrs. and Mr. Faulkner, their daughter, a maid, and another lodger, who spent most of her time on a sewing machine in the room directly below the Tolkien boy’s or practicing on Mrs. Faulkner’s piano. Her name was Edith Mary Bratt, and she, like the Tolkiens, was an orphan. The boy’s found her easy to be around – but it soon grew into something more. John Ronald, Hilary, and she would meet in her room for “secret feasts” while Mrs. Faulkner was out, but John Ronald and she soon began to frequent teashops around Birmingham. Edith was 19 and had dark hair and grey eyes, and she took a liking to John Ronald’s acute manners and seriousness, while he also found a liking for her. Father Francis, though, however he may have liked them separately, disliked them strongly together.
Firstly, Edith was three years older than John Ronald. Secondly, she was an illegitimate child. And thirdly, she belonged to the Church of England. The first two “issues” could not be altered – but this was not true for the third. When Father Francis finally agreed to the match – which took over three years – Edith became a Catholic. Two years later, she became John Ronald Tolkien’s wife. And they lived happily ever after.
Thus began the world of Arda, the world to which J.R.R. Tolkien truly belonged, the world of which he was scribe.
Trees which blossom pink in spring but are green in summer shade the waterside wildflowers and lush greenery from the vibrant sun which shines in the blue sky and the silver water of a pond. The mill which is fed by this water is not yet silent, so the pond is not yet congested with algae. But the millwheel does not disturb the water noticeably. Swans glide through the water and cause ripples which cleanse the surface of fallen leaves and insects. The buzz of the mill does not drown out the birdsong of the gentle countryside. Across the road is a small brick house, 5 Gracewell. Alike to many others, this house was not as tall as many of the trees which surrounded and perhaps overshadowed it. And inside this house or perhaps directly outside is a twenty-five-year-old Mabel Tolkien. She is the daughter of a prosperous-drapery-seller-turned-disinfectant-salesman and the wife of a piano-designer-turned-banker who, had he not died of a hemorrhage, would still have been in Bloemfontein, Orange Free State, which in under five years would be called Bloemfontein, South Africa. But in the autumn of just over five years, Mabel Tolkien will no longer live in this house nor this world. And the two children which resided with her will have been moved to a different household and, consequently, life. But they will not be taken as far as Mabel has been, not for a long time.
Birmingam
The children were Hilary Arthur and John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. John Ronald was the elder. Neither had a very clear memory of their African place of birth. John Ronald, born in 1892, was three when he first saw England, and had not a clear memory of that, either – most of what he could remember was a strange sense of homecoming. Hilary Arthur was born in 1894 and had even fewer images which he could recall. But the countryside into which they entered was to remain in their memories forever. The trees, the fields, the pond, the mill, “the White Ogre” who operated the mill, the blackberries – Sarehole Mill, Birmingham, was a garden of memories waiting to be plucked from their perches. Hilary later said of the days there, “we spent lovely summers just picking flowers and trespassing.” Indeed, this was nearly all that occupied them, and certainly enough to do so. But school would soon enter their lives.
When John Ronald was of the age to attend school, he found it very disagreeable. An attempt in 1900 led to nothing, and he was homeschooled by his mother until 1903, when he started attending King Edward’s School. This break from public education certainly did him more good than harm, however. His mother was more than capable of educating him, and taught him the basics of Latin, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and French, which, he discovered, he disliked. Mabel’s family had, at one point on their timeline, been engravers (John Suffield, Mabel’s father, could neatly write the entire Lord’s Prayer inside the circumference of a sixpence), and Mabel had acquired the elaborate handwriting of her ancestors. This she taught to John Ronald, who could read by the age of four and could write soon afterward. John Ronald grew into a handwriting style which perhaps surpassed his mother’s in elegance. Mabel was also a fluent pianist. John Ronald, however, did not enjoy this art, and, to quote Tolkienian Humphrey Carpenter in his biography of Tolkien, “It seemed rather as if words took the place of music for him, and that he enjoyed listening to them, reading them, and reciting them, almost regardless of what they meant." John Ronald did enjoy drawing and painting, both of which were taught to him by his mother. His favorite objects to draw and paint were trees and landscapes with trees within. But both he and his mother knew that his interest lay in words. It was in Birmingham that he first came across the Welsh language, which resided in his memory for his entire life and influenced much of his work. Even at such a young age he enjoyed the lessons on language more than any other.
But the pleasurable schooling of a young child at home was soon to end, for John Ronald’s mother joined her husband in paradise in November of 1904. The choice of school was not nearly as difficult as the choice of home. At first they were taken in by their Orthodox priest Father Francis Morgan, who was a close friend of their mother. However, although he was their father in the setting of the Church, he was not their father in terms of everyday life, and they could not live under him alone long. The boy’s Aunt Beatrice Suffield took them into her home in 1905. The children were, however, able to spend time with Father Francis, who, unlike Aunt Beatrice, showed true affection for the children, every day before school.
School and Language
Upon that note we now strike. School, in the mind of John Ronald, was better than it had been at first glance, as is often the case. He enjoyed it much more than he enjoyed the lackluster view of a thousand similar roofs which he had from the window in their Aunt Beatrice-appointed room. It was evident to his teachers that he had much academic promise, as it was to fellow students. He achieved first place in the 5th class in 1905. But what was perhaps more significant in John Ronald’s life was the boy who came in second place. His name was Christopher Wiseman. Christopher and he shared interests in Latin, Greek, Rugby football, and the art of discussion. Christopher Wiseman would become one of the most influential peers in John Ronald’s early life, and a son’s namesake.
Influential elders included the headmaster of the First Class, Robert Cary Gilson, and George Brewerton, a teacher who had perceived Tolkien’s interest in Chaucerian English. It was he who first lent Tolkien an Anglo-Saxon primer. Without it, Tolkien may never have become the legend he became. “Opening its covers,” writes Humphrey Carpenter, “Tolkien found himself face to face with the language that was spoken by the English before the first Normans set foot in their land. Anglo-Saxon, also called Old English, was familiar and recognizable to him as the antecedent of his own language, and at the same time was remote and obscure." Anglo-Saxon, or Old English, became an immense part of his life and writing, and without George Brewerton this immense part may have gone missing.
Tolkien flourished in his academic pursuits despite some endeavors off campus. With his younger cousin Mary, Tolkien created a language called “Nevbosh”, “New Nonsense”. But this could be considered “practice” for the flowering philologist; in 1907, at the age of 15, Tolkien invented his first serious language, which he called Naffarin. It was based upon Spanish and Latin, although the former was more prevalent in it. Although he did not use this language in many of his writings, it has found its way into a few. Unlike in this sense was a form of Gothic which he created from what he could find of the original language. He was to use Gothic and variations of it in much of his writing.
Edith
But Tolkien did have a life beyond the horizontal plain of paper; in early 1908, John Ronald and Hilary were let lodging in a house on 37 Duchess Road, by a certain Mrs. Faulkner. This house was occupied by Mrs. and Mr. Faulkner, their daughter, a maid, and another lodger, who spent most of her time on a sewing machine in the room directly below the Tolkien boy’s or practicing on Mrs. Faulkner’s piano. Her name was Edith Mary Bratt, and she, like the Tolkiens, was an orphan. The boy’s found her easy to be around – but it soon grew into something more. John Ronald, Hilary, and she would meet in her room for “secret feasts” while Mrs. Faulkner was out, but John Ronald and she soon began to frequent teashops around Birmingham. Edith was 19 and had dark hair and grey eyes, and she took a liking to John Ronald’s acute manners and seriousness, while he also found a liking for her. Father Francis, though, however he may have liked them separately, disliked them strongly together.
Firstly, Edith was three years older than John Ronald. Secondly, she was an illegitimate child. And thirdly, she belonged to the Church of England. The first two “issues” could not be altered – but this was not true for the third. When Father Francis finally agreed to the match – which took over three years – Edith became a Catholic. Two years later, she became John Ronald Tolkien’s wife. And they lived happily ever after.