Why J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis Matter

Their Lasting Legacies

In his dedication of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis dedicated it to his goddaughter, Lucy Barfield. It reads:

Dedication TO LUCY BARFIELD 

My Dear Lucy, I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand, a word you say, but I shall still be your affectionate Godfather, C. S. Lewis

My favorite line from this is: “Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” It’s one you’ve now doubt read in multiple places, but it speaks to the power of these stories. Lewis didn’t even expect his works to last as long as they have, but it speaks to the power his books have. 

Tolkien’s world of Middle Earth is no different. His popularity seems to only grow.

It’s no shock that I’m writing this, as I have a whole site dedicated to both of them. There are movies, cartoons, and all sorts of media for fans. Outside of a love for their stories, why do their works matter? Why do people continue to share these stories and invite readers, young and old, to join in these worlds?

Of course readers can enjoy the fun stories and move on to the next, and I too love the stories. But I think its because these books connect with readers on such a deeper level. For myself, both Lewis and Tolkien’s works have shaped my faith in more ways than any other literature. Lewis’ nonfiction works as well, like Mere Christianity, but especially his fiction. They understood the power of story and were able to make themes of hope, redemption, love, sacrifice, friendship and adventure come alive and stay with you long after you finish the book.

There’s a scene in Lewis’ The Voyage of the Dawn Treader where, after all their adventures on the ship, Lucy and Edmund encounter Aslan in the flesh for the first time in the book. It is here they find out they will not be returning to Narnia. Lucy cries out because she fears she will never see Aslan again. His response is as such:

“I am,” said Aslan. “But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”

I love this. Its just one example of how Lewis brought about the characteristics of God and Jesus through Aslan’s character.

Lewis and Tolkien continue to stir the hearts of readers around the world. I think these two excerpts below help us to understand that a bit more.

Lewis offers the answer to those who condemn a book because it is fantasy (from  Diana Pavlac Glyer’s Bandersnatch):

“‘But why’, (some ask), ‘why, if you have a serious comment to make on the real life of men, must you do it by talking about a phantasmagoric never-never land of your own?’ Because, I take it, one of the main things the author wants to say is that the real life of men is of that mythical and heroic quality.” He continues, “The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by ‘the veil of familiarity.’ The child enjoys his cold meat (otherwise dull to him) by pretending it is buffalo, just killed with his own bow and arrow. And the child is wise. The real meat comes back to him more savoury for having been dipped in a story.”

Joseph Loconte also explains it rather well in his book, A Hobbit, A Wardrobe and War:

Mythmaking, what Tolkien calls “mythopoeia,” is a way of fulfilling God’s purposes as the Creator. By inventing a myth—by populating a world with elves and orcs, dragons and witches, gods and goddesses—the storyteller tries to retrieve the world he knew before man’s fall from grace. “There was an Eden on this very unhappy earth,” Tolkien explained many years later. “We all long for it, and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most humane, is still soaked with the sense of ‘exile.’ ” The mythmaker, fired by the sense of exile and the desire to return to his authentic home, reflects “a splintered fragment of the true light.”

Why do you love and read Tolkien or Lewis (or both!)? 

(Adapted from a 2016 post. © 2023 Jamie Lapeyrolerie)