Verlyn Flieger’s paper, Tolkien and the Idea of the Book, delves into how J.R.R. Tolkien’s Legendarium developed around the central concept of a “book” that bridges the fictional world of Middle-earth with the real world. This framework underscores Tolkien’s intent to ground his mythological tales in reality through a conceptual artifact, such as the Red Book of Westmarch. Additionally, this concept aligns with deeper, more metaphysical layers of Tolkien’s creative process, which can be understood through a shamanic lens.
From the earliest stages of his writing, Tolkien envisioned the tales of Middle-earth as fragments of a larger, interconnected mythology encoded within an imagined manuscript. This idea began with the Golden Book of Tavrobel, written by Eriol the Mariner—Tolkien's proto-historian character who collected tales from the Elves at Tavrobel. In his 1917 notes, Tolkien details Eriol’s role: after hearing these stories, Eriol writes them down in a book sealed and left behind in the House of a Hundred Chimneys. This manuscript, Tolkien imagined, lay dormant for ages, later revised by Eriol’s son, Ælfwine, and completed by Ælfwine’s son, Heorrenda.
Heorrenda, a lesser-known figure in Tolkien’s early mythology, plays a critical role in the transmission of the Legendarium. Born in Tol Eressëa, the enchanted island inhabited by the Elves, Heorrenda becomes the final custodian of the Golden Book. He completes the histories of the Elves, ensuring their preservation even amidst disaster. The book remains in Tol Eressëa after its creation, serving as a repository of Elvish lore that bridges their fading existence with the mortal realm.
Heorrenda’s life is steeped in mythic symbolism. Following the Faring Forth, a catastrophic expedition where the Elves of Tol Eressëa attempted to save their kin in the Great Lands (Middle-earth), Tol Eressëa was defeated and anchored near the Great Lands’ coast. It was then invaded by evil Men, marking the decline of Elven power. However, Heorrenda, alongside his half-brothers Hengest and Horsa, reclaimed Tol Eressëa, which became England. They led the early English people, who remained the only group of Men faithful to the Elves and their traditions.
This lineage ties Tolkien’s mythology to England’s founding legends. Hengest and Horsa are historically cited as the mytho-historical founders of England, leaders of the Anglo-Saxon migrations. Tolkien’s inclusion of these figures alongside Heorrenda in his mythology bridges his fictional Legendarium with English history and folklore. Heorrenda’s settlement in Gréata Hægwudu (later Great Haywood) not only grounds the Legendarium geographically but suggests a spiritual kinship between Tolkien’s imagined history and the real-world lineage of England’s cultural myths. This blending of mythic and historical traditions mirrors the shamanic process of intertwining sacred and temporal realms.
Tolkien’s creative process resonates strongly with shamanic traditions, where sacred knowledge is transmitted through layers of interpretation and cultural adaptation. In Tolkien and Shamanism [video], the shamanic dimension of Tolkien’s work becomes evident in the way his “book” acts as a bridge between mythic realms and the present world. Shamans, in their role as intermediaries, journey between the visible and invisible worlds, translating ineffable visions into language and symbols comprehensible to their communities. Similarly, Tolkien’s fictional translators—whether Eriol, Ælfwine, or Heorrenda—fulfill a comparable function.
Shamanic practices often involve accessing non-ordinary states of consciousness to retrieve wisdom from spiritual or archetypal sources. Tolkien’s descriptions of the creative process, particularly his concept of “sub-creation,” suggest a comparable engagement with deep intuitive states. He once described the crafting of his stories as if they were “given” to him rather than invented—a phenomenon many creators liken to a form of channeling. This aligns with shamanic traditions where the practitioner becomes a vessel for universal truths.
Moreover, Tolkien’s iterative revisions of the Legendarium reflect the shaman’s role in reshaping timeless knowledge to suit contemporary needs. Just as shamans reinterpret myths to address the changing dynamics of their societies, Tolkien adapted and expanded his Legendarium to remain relevant to new audiences while maintaining its archetypal core.
Tolkien wrestled with how this imagined book could have survived the catastrophic Downfall of Númenor and transitioned from the old world to Rivendell, where Bilbo might have found it. Further, linguistic layers complicated this process: Eriol’s Anglo-Saxon text had to transform into the Elvish tongues (such as Sindarin), and then again into the Common Speech before being presented to a modern audience through Tolkien’s fictive “translation.”
These challenges mirror shamanic traditions of “translating” sacred experiences. Just as shamans must reinterpret their dream-like visions into coherent narratives for their communities, Tolkien imagined a meticulous process of linguistic and cultural adaptation for his Red Book. Each stage of the book’s journey represents not only a physical transition but also a spiritual one, underscoring its role as a vessel of mythic truth.
This evolution underscores Tolkien’s strategy: to present his Legendarium as fragments of a long-lost mythology recovered through painstaking translation. This strategy imbues his works with historical and linguistic authenticity, paralleling the rediscovery of medieval manuscripts like the Winchester Malory, which served as an implicit inspiration for Tolkien's Red Book concept.
Through the lens of shamanism, the Red Book of Westmarch is not merely a narrative device but a symbolic artifact embodying the transmission of sacred knowledge across time and space. In many shamanic traditions, sacred objects—whether drums, rattles, or manuscripts—serve as conduits between the material and spiritual worlds. The Red Book functions similarly, acting as a bridge between Middle-earth and our world.
Tolkien’s depiction of the Red Book emphasizes its liminality: it exists simultaneously as a historical document, a linguistic puzzle, and a spiritual relic. Its role as a translator’s text mirrors the shamanic act of interpreting ineffable truths into a form that resonates with the physical world. This interplay of translation and interpretation is a recurring theme in Tolkien’s work, reflecting his belief in the power of language to shape and transmit reality.
Tolkien’s experience, whether conscious or unconscious, resonates with the archetypal role of the shaman as the bridge between worlds. The fictive “translation” mirrors how shamans interpret dream-like visions into language, rendering the ineffable comprehensible. In this way, Tolkien positions himself as the final “redactor” of ancient knowledge—not as its creator, but as its receiver and re-interpreter.
In shamanic traditions, the storyteller serves as a custodian of cultural memory, preserving and transmitting the collective wisdom of the community. Tolkien’s Legendarium fulfills this role on a grand scale, offering not only a fictional mythology but also a mirror to universal human experiences and truths.
One of the most intriguing aspects of Tolkien’s early mythology is the role of Eriol and his descendants, including Ælfwine and Heorrenda, in the transmission of the Legendarium. These characters serve as the initial recorders and transmitters of the tales, providing a direct link between the mythic and the historical. However, by the time of The Lord of the Rings, these figures have largely faded into the background, leaving a gap in the narrative continuity.
Allowing Eriol and his descendants to remain prominent in the later works would have created a more logical and seamless history of story transmission. This continuity would have reinforced the idea that Tolkien’s stories are not just fantasy, but living mythological entities, deeply intertwined with the historical and cultural fabric of the real world. The presence of these characters would have provided a tangible connection between the ancient tales and the modern reader, making the stories feel more grounded and authentic.
By maintaining the presence of Eriol and his descendants, Tolkien could have avoided the pop-cultural perception that his stories are "just fantasy," or completely made up. Instead, the Legendarium would be seen as a rich, living mythology, a blend of ancient lore and later history. This approach would have emphasized the enduring relevance and depth of the stories, making them more than mere entertainment but a part of a larger, ongoing cultural and mythological tradition.
Eriol, as the proto-historian, serves as the first point of contact between the mythic and the historical. His role in collecting and recording the tales of the Elves at Tavrobel is crucial, as it establishes the foundation for the entire Legendarium. Eriol’s son, Ælfwine, and his grandson, Heorrenda, continue this legacy by revising and completing the Golden Book. Their contributions ensure that the stories are preserved and passed down through generations, maintaining their integrity and authenticity.
If Eriol and his descendants had remained central figures in the later works, they could have served as a bridge between the ancient myths and the events of The Lord of the Rings. For example, Eriol’s descendants could have been depicted as the keepers of the Red Book of Westmarch, ensuring its preservation and transmission. This would have created a clear lineage of storytellers, from Eriol to Ælfwine to Heorrenda, and finally to Bilbo and Frodo, who continue the tradition of recording and preserving the tales.
By maintaining the presence of Eriol and his descendants, Tolkien could have shifted the perception of his work from purely fictional to a form of living mythology. This would have aligned more closely with his own intentions, as he often spoke of his stories as a form of sub-creation, a way of participating in the divine act of creation. The presence of these characters would have underscored the idea that the stories are not just invented, but discovered and transmitted, much like the myths and legends of the past.
Moreover, the inclusion of Eriol and his descendants would have provided a deeper layer of meaning and context to the stories. Readers would see the Legendarium not just as a collection of tales, but as a continuous, evolving tradition, rooted in a rich and complex history. This would have made the stories more relatable and meaningful, as they would be seen as part of a larger, ongoing narrative, rather than isolated and disconnected from the real world.
From a shamanic perspective, the role of Eriol and his descendants as storytellers and transmitters of sacred knowledge is particularly significant. In shamanic traditions, the storyteller is not just a narrator but a conduit for spiritual and mythic truths. The process of storytelling is seen as a sacred act, a way of connecting the visible and invisible worlds, and of transmitting wisdom and knowledge across generations.
Tolkien’s concept of sub-creation, where the storyteller is a receiver and re-interpreter of universal truths, aligns closely with this shamanic view. By maintaining the presence of Eriol and his descendants, Tolkien could have emphasized the shamanic dimension of his work, highlighting the role of the storyteller as a bridge between the mythic and the historical, the spiritual and the material.
The Red Book of Westmarch itself could have been presented as a direct continuation of the Golden Book of Tavrobel, with Eriol and his descendants playing a key role in its creation and preservation. This would have created a clear and unbroken chain of transmission, from the earliest tales collected by Eriol to the final recordings by Bilbo and Frodo. The Red Book would then be seen not just as a narrative device, but as a sacred artifact, a repository of ancient wisdom and a link to the mythic past.
This continuity would have also addressed some of the challenges Tolkien faced in explaining how the Red Book survived the Downfall of Númenor and the linguistic and cultural transitions. With Eriol and his descendants as the custodians of the book, the process of translation and adaptation would have been more logically and seamlessly integrated into the narrative. The Red Book would have been seen as a living document, continually updated and revised by a lineage of dedicated scribes and storytellers.
Tolkien’s idea of the book serves as the linchpin for connecting his Legendarium with both historical reality and timeless myth. Through iterative revisions, linguistic intricacies, and a fictive translator, Tolkien created a uniquely layered artifact. When viewed through a shamanic lens, his evolving book mirrors the dynamic flow of mythic insight: a transmission reshaped by those who receive it, yet always resonating with its archetypal origins.
By crafting his Legendarium as both fiction and received knowledge, Tolkien invites us not only to read these tales but to participate in their living tradition. In doing so, he blurs the line between storyteller and witness, offering us a glimpse into the sacred role of myth in shaping our understanding of the world.
However, allowing Eriol and his descendants to fade into the background by the time of The Lord of the Rings was likely a missed opportunity. Maintaining their presence would have created a more logical and seamless history of story transmission, reinforcing the idea that Tolkien’s stories are not just fantasy but living mythological entities, deeply intertwined with the historical and cultural fabric of the real world. This approach would have emphasized the enduring relevance and depth of the stories, making them more than mere entertainment but a part of a larger, ongoing cultural and mythological tradition.
By positioning himself as the final “redactor” of ancient knowledge, Tolkien could have further solidified the shamanic dimension of his work, emphasizing the role of the storyteller as a bridge between the mythic and the historical, the spiritual and the material. This would have enriched the overall narrative, making the Legendarium a more profound and meaningful experience for readers, and ensuring that the stories are seen as a vital part of our shared cultural heritage.