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A Journey Unsubmitted: Me, Tolkien’s Mythos, and the Scholarly Community

 

Early Influences and the Sacred Experience

Since I was about five years old, I recognized that I was different in a specific way. I would mention it to my friends, but they never understood. This difference is best described by the term Therianthropy, which comes from the ancient Greek words thēríon (animal) and ánthrōpos (human). It denotes more than just identifying with an animal spirit; it's a profound, intrinsic link, an integral part of one’s persona. Many people mistakenly equate it with having a totem animal, but it’s much deeper—it’s a part of yourself.

My therianthropic connection to the tiger has a name in Malay: "Harimau jadian," which means "simulation tiger" [New Straits Times story]. This term refers to individuals who can shape-shift between human and tiger forms. For me, this transformation occurs when using the shamanic plant Salvia Divinorum, allowing me to project my consciousness into a tiger's form and deeply engage with this alter ego of mine.

Therianthropy is a distinct identity phenomenon where individuals, known as Therians, feel a deep personal connection or identification with a specific animal, reflecting their inner nature. In contrast, the Otherkin movement consists of individuals who identify as non-human, either spiritually or psychologically, often believing they are beings from myth, folklore, or even modern fiction. While Otherkin may identify with a wide range of entities, Therians are exclusively connected to singular animal forms. Like many older Therians, I emphasize this distinction, asserting that our experiences and identities are fundamentally different from those of the Otherkin: ‘They are who they are, and we are who we are.’

The wolf and bear are common Therian forms, and the Bear appears in Tolkien’s works. Beorn, a character in The Hobbit, is a bear Therian. When I’ve been challenged by people saying, "There’s nothing about Therians in Tolkien’s works!", I respond, "Well, there is Beorn, you know?"

I read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings long before The Silmarillion was published in 1977. When The Silmarillion finally appeared, I was 12 years old, and it struck me like a bolt of lightning. Here was the pure essence of Tolkien’s world—an epic mythos that resonated deeply within me. It wasn’t merely a story; it was a revelation. It felt as though I was tapping into a hidden well of ancient knowledge, something that transcended the constraints of time and space. This period was formative for me, aligning with a natural inclination towards spirituality—a direction I embraced fully as I immersed myself further into Tolkien’s mythos. You could truly say that this experience was sacred for me.

Throughout my early years, I was also aware of being different in a social way, but it wasn’t until much later in life that I understood why. I’m on the autism spectrum, a fact first recognized by my wife, an occupational therapist, who noticed the signs and behavioral patterns. A formal diagnosis later confirmed it, but she was the one who saw it first. Growing up, I didn’t have the typical “wild teenage years” that many people talk about. My life moved at a slower pace, and it wasn’t until after I turned 40 that I began exploring medicinal herbs, marking the start of my journey into shamanism.

My understanding of Tolkien’s mythic realms has been significantly influenced by the diverse cultures and landscapes I’ve encountered throughout my life. I’ve lived in various places, including Washington state where I was born, California, Illinois, Costa Rica, Oregon, Ohio, Tennessee, and finally Georgia. Each move exposed me to new perspectives and environments. Many of these relocations were due to my father’s work as a hydraulics expert and crash investigator for McDonnell Douglas Aircraft Corporation. These experiences have broadened my worldview and deepened my appreciation for the universal themes in Tolkien’s work, showing how they resonate across different cultures.

A Mytho-Historical Approach to Tolkien’s Legendarium

One of my most significant contributions to Tolkien scholarship is my interpretation of the Legendarium through a mytho-historical lens. This approach views Tolkien’s narrative not merely as a literary creation but as a complex blend of historical and mythological elements, reflecting an ancient worldview where myth and history were intertwined. By examining his stories through this perspective, I’ve uncovered how Tolkien’s work mirrors ancient mythological and historical themes, offering deeper insights into the human condition.

This perspective resonates deeply with Robert Pirsig’s Lila: An Inquiry into Morals and his metaphysics of quality (MOQ), which distinguishes between static patterns of understanding—those that codify and preserve order—and dynamic quality, the ever-evolving force of creativity and transformation. The Legendarium operates on both levels of quality: its meticulously crafted genealogies, languages, and histories represent static quality, preserving a sense of timelessness and rootedness in ancient traditions. At the same time, the mythic and spiritual dimensions of Tolkien’s world—its capacity to inspire personal transformation and evoke profound emotional and spiritual responses—embody dynamic quality. This interplay between the static and the dynamic mirrors the tension in Pirsig’s philosophy, where both are necessary for a system to remain vital and meaningful.

My first exposure to mytho-historical storytelling came from an unexpected source: the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Darmok" [video]. In this episode, Captain Picard and an alien captain learn to communicate using a language rooted in cultural metaphors and mythic stories. This profoundly impacted me, as it mirrored my own way of understanding the world—a form of visual thinking, similar to what Temple Grandin describes in Thinking in Pictures: My Life with Autism. This method of thinking allows me to visualize and interpret complex ideas and narratives, much like the mythic communication depicted in "Darmok."

Further inspired by Paul Veyne’s Did the Greeks Believe in Their Myths? An Essay on the Constitutive Imagination, I began to see Tolkien’s work as a mytho-historical narrative, where ancient myths merge with historical patterns in a way that reveals universal truths. For example, Tolkien’s Legendarium functions as a living system, one that maintains its coherence through its static structures while allowing for individual and cultural reinterpretation through its dynamic elements. My own experience of Tolkien’s work as a sacred, shamanic journey reflects this dynamic quality, where the mythos transcends its textual boundaries to become a deeply personal and transformative engagement. At the same time, the carefully constructed historical framework of Middle-earth provides a sense of grounding and order, anchoring personal experiences within a shared cultural artifact.

By applying these mytho-historical and philosophical perspectives, Tolkien’s Legendarium can be understood not only as a literary masterpiece but as a work of profound mythic resonance. It bridges the gap between the static patterns of tradition and the dynamic forces of personal and cultural transformation, offering a timeless narrative that speaks to the evolving nature of the human experience.

Shamanism, Time, and the Influence of Medicine Plants

My interest in shamanism, particularly in the context of altered states of consciousness, provided a new lens through which to understand time and reality—concepts that are central to both shamanic traditions and Tolkien’s mythic narratives. Shamanism, especially when facilitated by entheogens like Salvia Divinorum, offers a unique perspective on the nature of time. In shamanic practices, time is often perceived not as a linear flow but as a complex web of interconnected moments. This perception aligns with the concept of metaperception—a heightened state of awareness where the mind observes and interprets its own processes from an elevated vantage point. My experiences with shamanic trances have revealed how this metaperception allows for a simultaneous awareness of past, present, and future events, much like the block universe theory posits that all moments exist together in a single, unchanging structure.

In shamanic traditions, this perception of time extends beyond ordinary experience. For instance, during a trance state, shamans often report an enhanced ability to perceive events from different times or realms. This ability to transcend linear time provides them with specific, actionable insights that are not merely symbolic but are deeply rooted in the shaman’s direct interaction with spiritual entities. Such experiences contrast sharply with traditional divination systems.

Divinatory systems like Astrology, I Ching, and the Elder Futhark generally offer symbolic and general guidance. These systems rely on metaphorical interpretations of celestial positions, hexagrams, or runes to provide insights. While valuable for reflective and thematic understanding, they often lack the specificity required for precise problem-solving. For example, Astrology might reveal broad personality traits or life themes based on celestial alignments, but it does not typically offer detailed guidance on specific issues.

Shamanic visions, especially those induced by Salvia Divinorum, are known for their specificity and depth. These experiences often offer highly personalized and actionable insights that directly address particular issues in a person's life, health, or spiritual path. The detailed visions and revelations reported by shamans during their trances illustrate this specificity.

For instance, while planning our wedding, I had a vision using Salvia Divinorum in which I saw large, bronze-colored beetles, about the size of my hand, swarming the backyard trees and consuming all the vegetation, threatening to ruin our event. Although this vision occurred in early spring, long before any reports of infestations, we later faced a Japanese beetle invasion during our wedding month of August. While the beetles weren’t as large as those in my vision and didn’t devastate the entire neighborhood, they did cause significant damage, including the death of some of my brother-in-law’s fruit trees.

Another striking example of shamanic insight involves a conversation I had with a friend about a ruin beneath the sands of a river mouth near her home. During this discussion, an inner voice suggested using a neutrino beam as a detector. Although this message was not a direct result of taking Salvia Divinorum at that time, it was communicated along the bi-directional information pathway that my prior use of Salvia had established. Once one becomes a Salvia-shaman, the pathway remains open, and one does not always need to use Salvia to receive messages. Initially, I dismissed the idea as implausible, given that neutrinos interact so weakly with matter. However, further research revealed that a related particle, the muon neutrino, is indeed involved in a technique for detecting buried structures. This technique, known as muon tomography, is a real method in particle physics and archaeology [PDF]. This experience underscored that shamanic messages, though they may seem unconventional at first, can align with actual scientific methods and discoveries. Unlike a cognitive insight, receiving a message from a shamanic ally feels more like an actual conversation with another entity, offering guidance that can be validated through research.

This distinction between the symbolic nature of traditional divination and the detailed specificity of shamanic visions has profoundly influenced my approach to studying Tolkien’s work. Just as shamanic visions reveal hidden truths and detailed insights through direct spiritual communication, I seek to uncover the precise, often concealed meanings within Tolkien’s mythic narratives. This approach allows for a deeper exploration of the intricate layers and underlying themes present in his legendarium, aligning with the shamanic view of time as a complex and multifaceted phenomenon.

A Revolutionary in the World of Tolkien Scholarship

My journey as a Tolkien scholar is deeply intertwined with my identity as a Revolutionary and an Anarchist. While many pursue academic careers or seek validation through formal institutions, I have consciously rejected these paths. The very structures that define institutionalized scholarship often stand in direct opposition to the radical ideals I hold dear.

I believe that Revolutionaries and Scholars seldom find common ground. Institutions, by design, serve to uphold the status quo, while my orientation demands the disruption of entrenched hierarchies and the fostering of unbridled intellectual freedom. This fundamental conflict is one of the primary reasons I have chosen to remain outside the traditional Tolkien academic community, carving a path of my own making.

A Personal Mythos and Intellectual Pursuit

Tolkien’s Legendarium is not merely a literary fascination for me—it serves as both a personal mythos and a crucible for intellectual exploration. Engaging with Middle-earth is, for me, akin to the study of archaeology or anthropology, but in a rigorous, logical manner, not in a 'fringe' way, as with Zecharia Sitchin or Graham Hancock. It is a method of uncovering hidden meanings, connecting symbolic dots, and challenging conventional interpretations. Always, however, within the boundaries of logical thought.

Rather than adopting the dominant linguistic approaches typically associated with Tolkien studies, I bring a mathematical and analytical lens to the exploration of his work. My application of archaeoastronomy to events in The Silmarillion exemplifies this perspective. Using tools like Stellarium and Cartes du Ciel, I’ve calculated that Varda's “star-making,” heralding the awakening of the Quendi, likely occurred between 32,475 BCE and 58,475 BCE. Such insights bridge the mythological and the scientific, weaving together ancient celestial phenomena and Tolkien’s enduring narrative.

Bridging Mythology and Real-World Geographies

Tolkien’s landscapes resonate with a profound duality: they are at once vividly fantastical and intimately connected to the realities of our physical world. My exploration of the topologies of Beleriand’s shores led me to uncover striking parallels to the ancient coastlines of Doggerland, a region now submerged beneath the North Sea. This submerged prehistoric landmass, once a bridge between Britain and mainland Europe, mirrors Tolkien’s depiction of drowned lands and lost realms. Such connections suggest that Tolkien’s imaginative cartography may draw from subconscious cultural and geographical archetypes, deeply embedded in human history.

This interplay between mythology and physical geography enriches Tolkien’s legendarium by grounding his epic narratives in a tangible earthly context. For readers and scholars alike, it bridges the worlds of the imaginary and the historical, underscoring Tolkien’s belief in the mythic resonance of real-world places. The discovery of these parallels has inspired my continued commitment to exploring Tolkien's works through an interdisciplinary lens.

In my roles within organizations like Ilsaluntë Valion and Way of Arda's Lore, I have embraced a Revolutionary approach to scholarship. Rather than adhering to rigid academic methodologies, I blend empirical research with speculative analysis, rejecting the artificial barriers imposed by traditional academic hierarchies. This approach allows me to honor the expansive vision Tolkien infused into his world while contributing new insights unrestrained by the confines of disciplinary silos. The intersection of empirical evidence and creative freedom reflects not only the spirit of Tolkien's work but also my philosophy of intellectual inquiry: that truth often resides at the borders between the known and the imagined.

Shamanic Insights and Radical Perspectives

My dual identity as an atheist and a shaman allows me to challenge mainstream perceptions of spirituality, cognition, and reality itself. While traditional shamanic practices are often interpreted as metaphysical experiences, I approach them as windows into the neurological underpinnings of the human mind. For me, shamanic visions are not encounters with supernatural forces but manifestations of heightened pattern recognition and tropological thinking—the ability to weave narratives from disparate sensory and cognitive inputs.

This neuro-shamanic perspective aligns with my commitment to integrating seemingly divergent worldviews. In much the same way Tolkien wove myth and reality together, I see shamanism not as a rejection of scientific rationalism but as a radical expansion of it. By embracing both, I forge a path that neither denies the spiritual nor abandons the empirical but synthesizes both into a unified way of understanding.

The tension between institutional acceptance and revolutionary independence is ever-present in this realm as well. My shamanic insights, which exist at the fringes of scientific discourse and are too unconventional for mainstream spirituality, embody a radical intellectual and personal independence. They challenge established paradigms while also offering transformative ways to approach knowledge, experience, and human potential.

Through this synthesis of empirical rigor, imaginative exploration, and deep self-reflection, I hope to inspire others to see the value of looking beyond the boundaries of conventional thought. It is only by questioning these boundaries that we can uncover truths obscured by the narratives of tradition and authority—whether those truths lie in Tolkien’s Middle-earth, the hidden histories of our own world, or the infinite potentials of the human mind.

Final Words on Knowledge, Gatekeeping, and Revolution

The barriers posed by institutional gatekeeping are as evident in Tolkien scholarship as they are in broader academic and societal structures. My refusal to conform reflects a dedication to the Revolutionary principle of intellectual and creative autonomy. By stepping outside these boundaries, I’ve been able to delve into Tolkien’s Legendarium on my own terms, uncovering truths that might otherwise remain obscured.

Eric Weinstein's concept of the "Gated Institutional Narrative" (GIN) provides a useful lens through which to understand the mechanisms of these barriers. According to Weinstein, GIN operates like an exchange, but instead of financial assets, it deals in information and ideas. Only those with "seats on the exchange"—professors, politicians, or media figures—are granted access to this exclusive dialogue. The rest of us, the uncredentialed masses, are relegated to the periphery, consuming a carefully curated product rather than participating in the creation of knowledge.

This arrangement, while ostensibly meant to ensure quality control, often suppresses the most disruptive and transformative ideas. These are the ideas that challenge foundational assumptions: the flaws in the food pyramid, the dangers of unexamined financial practices, or the mischaracterization of complex social issues. GIN thrives on consensus, even if that consensus is flawed, because its purpose is not to seek truth but to maintain the stability of its own framework.

In Tolkien studies, this gated narrative manifests in the elevation of certain interpretations and voices over others. It dictates what counts as "serious" scholarship and who is allowed to speak on Tolkien's behalf. Alternative perspectives, particularly those that challenge entrenched academic hierarchies, are dismissed or ignored—not because they lack merit, but because they disrupt the carefully maintained order of the field.

My work has been an attempt to break free from this gatekeeping. By refusing to play by the rules of institutional approval, I have sought to explore Tolkien's world with a freedom that the GIN inherently stifles. This path has not been without challenges—ostracism, criticism, and the absence of institutional support—but it has afforded me the opportunity to pursue truths untouched by bureaucratic oversight.

Ultimately, my scholarship represents an act of resistance—not only against the entrenched hierarchies of Tolkien studies but against the broader societal structures that seek to control and commodify knowledge. In choosing to create outside the gates, I affirm the value of intellectual autonomy and the revolutionary potential of independent thought.

Tolkien’s works remind us that knowledge, creativity, and freedom are interconnected. Whether through Gandalf’s resistance to Saruman’s centralization of power or Frodo’s defiance of Sauron’s dominion, his stories champion the small and seemingly insignificant voices that challenge the monolith. It is in this spirit that I dedicate my work—not only to the study of Tolkien but to the broader fight for a world where knowledge is not gated, where truth is not obscured, and where the most transformative ideas are free to flourish.

—Eriol Elwin/Meneldur Olvarion of Ilsaluntë Valion


References:

  • Torenberg, E. (2022, December 21). Lila: An Inquiry into Morals by Robert Pirsig. [link]
  • Grandin, T. (2010). Thinking in Pictures, Expanded Edition: My Life with Autism. New York: Vintage. [Link to Amazon]
  • Veyne, P. (1988). Did the Greeks Believe in Their Myths? An Essay on the Constitutive Imagination (P. Wissing, Trans.). The University of Chicago Press. [PDF]
  • Weinstein, E. (2018, February 5). Gated Institutional Narrative (GIN). The Portal Wiki. [link]