On Faërie

Introduction and Definition

Professor Tolkien in his magnificent essay "On Fairy-Stories" argued that Faërie's essence cannot be pinned down or defined: "[I]ts very richness and strangeness tie the tongue of a traveler who would report them" (315). However, I pray that the following discussion does not too impertinently investigate these profound mysteries among which Men should tread most cautiously for fear of assuming more than we ought.

With that note of caution sounded, I shall now proceed to discuss this most beguiling realm—one filled with unimaginable beauty as well as with the most subtly seductive of perils, a land of inexpressible joy and unimaginable grief—Faërie, the Elfland. And I shall begin this inquiry by proposing a vague but, I hope, accurate definition of Faërie in defiance of the venerable Tolkien:

Faërie is an imaginative realm of Truth which acts as a conduit to and matrix of Joy, to which end it often utilizes Beauty—Beauty which also achieves several additional purposes (of which I shall soon speak), while also usually incorporating fairies, or similar fantastical beings, into the narrative. Another distinctive of Faërie is its pervasive moral quality which is often displayed through symbolical or metaphorical means; however, this vital aspect of Elfland is the one most often neglected since our culture has drifted away from and outrightly rejects morality in all its shapes and forms.

Now what does this definition actually mean? I hope to discuss Joy and Beauty in greater depth later on; but several items besides these present themselves for explication, viz. the fictionality of Faërie, the two general associations of Joy with Elfland, Joy's relation to Beauty and the primary ends of Faërie, and the presence of elves within Elfland. So without further ado, let us proceed to the fictionality of Faërie as a fantastical realm.

I will not dwell on the obvious fact that Faërie does not physically exist within the circles of this world; however, I emphatically assert that this does not make it any less real. But I mean real in a different sense than you may initially think. Indeed, Elfland may not be founded upon the physical realities of Earth; nevertheless, it fundamentally resides upon the abstract principles, even morals, which govern our physical reality. As Tolkien argued, "Fantasy is made out of the Primary World" (374). Thus, Faërie is 'true' in that it rests in the arms of transcendent Reality. It is not a lie "breathed through silver" (Carpenter 151) as the unconverted Lewis declared about myths. Nay, "myths are more than simply naught" (as a friend of mine once wrote); rather, they "reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God" as Tolkien brilliantly declared (ibid.).

In this way, Faërie's fictional nature extends only insofar as its landscape stretches with its respective creatures, people, flora, and fauna. Put this geographical and physical fiction aside and Elfland rests firmly upon Reality. Indeed, Faërie often reveals Truth to us in ways far clearer than we can know on Earth. Because physical reality does not constrain Elfland, the dreamlike qualities of its landscape and narrative allow for a freer representation of its values, one of which is the impartation of Truth. 

Moving on to the general place of Joy within Faërie, I stated two purposes in my aforementioned definition: Elfland is a conduit to and matrix of Joy. It acts as a conduit to Joy primarily through its Beauty. I shall discuss this relation more fully when I speak on the beauty of Faërie, but here I will say that its Beauty in tale, song, and land are all intended to produce Joy within the heart and soul of him who providentially stumbles upon that splendid land and knew nothing of Joy beforehand.

As for the matrixial aspect of Faërie, it nurtures and nourishes Joy even if one has already experienced this breathtaking epiphany and dwells in Joy's glorious state. Again, chiefly through its Beauty does Elfland refresh, revitalize, and revive the weary returner to re-enter the rigors of this world; for Faërie provides the perfect realm in which one may receive true encouragement and the ability to rejoice again.

Ultimately, these two preliminary functions of Joy are the same: They only differ due to the prior experience of any reader-sojourner within its borders. For the newcomer, Faërie acts as a conduit to Joy; but, for the aged adventurer, it renews his former and establishes his future Joy. That is all I need to say here.

I have briefly alluded to the relationship between Beauty and Joy, but I must now clarify that relation. Most often, Beauty leads to Joy which leads to the accomplishment of further goals; however, in my experience, Joy has never led to Beauty. This may be because Joy is an experience as well as an alterable disposition while Beauty is the unalterable condition of Elfland. Then again, hopefully Joy leads to the furtherance of the reader-traveler's personal (inward) beauty—and this ought not be overlooked. Moreover, the taste of Joy (through Beauty) ought to open one's eyes and enable him to more accurately perceive and appreciate the multitude of beauties which surround him.

With that said, since Joy must spring from Beauty of some sort, that does not mean that Beauty in itself does not accomplish some of the goals of Faërie apart from those directly achieved through Joy. In other words, Beauty divorced from Joy does have a function within Elfland. But, yet again, I will return to this fascinating thread further on.

The last item I wish to explicate concerning this definition regards the presence of fairies within Faërie. Not much needs to be said on this self-apparent matter, save that this quality is what distinguishes Faërie from every other fantastical realm—Middle-earth, Narnia, Anasá, Eltūm, and the rest—for no other mythology can house the flitting elves without dipping into Elfland itself.

Purposes, Functions, and Values

With the basic definition of Faërie now adequately discussed, let us proceed to investigate the several ends towards which Elfland tends. Through my contemplation of this topic, I have identified three broad categories into which I have placed Faërie's purposes; but these branch off among themselves, so I shall discuss each accordingly: 1) moral instruction, 2) Recovery or Returnism, and 3) the innate value of and joy in a sub-created world.

As for the first category, "Fairyland is nothing but the sunny country of common sense", to quote the great Chesterton (54). But it teaches more than merely common sense, for Elfland even educates us about morality. Now, this kind of moral instruction need not be explicit or didactic, indeed, most often it is neither within Faërie. However, as I shall soon demonstrate, a moral structure does uphold Elfland (as it must all narrative worlds), and truths are ingrained and displayed therein. To put it another way, Reality upholds all Fantasy: The threads of Truth constitute the framework of Faërie. Thus, Elfland can be used to teach and instruct one about the moral truths which permeate Earth. 

How can this be? Well, Man cannot create ex nihilo; therefore, he must use the basis of Reality as his foundation for fantastical worlds such as Elfland. For this reason, Tolkien coined the term 'sub-creation'. Furthermore, morality (a subdivision of Reality) enters the equation based on the narrative quality of Faërie. By this I mean that, since most of us catch a glimpse of that Perilous Realm between the leaves of a book and since all stories must communicate a moral quality through the necessity of decisions in the tale, therefore Faërie must always promote some kind of morality. In other words, most decisions imply a moral basis for those decisions, so all stories must impart some moral quality since all tales must have decisions. Unlike modern tales, the old stories did this consciously; they intentionally attempted to implicitly explicate moral Truth to the reader-traveler.

"But," some may query, "how does Elfland accomplish this great work? I don't appreciate Fantasy because it teaches me how to live rightly; I love it simply as a story and as a world." Indeed, a legitimate basis exists to appreciate Faërie according to its innate value as a sub-created realm; however, Fantasy (as well as all stories) must impart moral judgements, for that is an inextricable aspect of storytelling. Thus, Elfland should instruct one how to live rightly in godliness and humility of heart before the Lord of the cosmos—not only of our own, but also of every fictional universe. And it is the solemn duty and sober burden of all moral instruction to teach Truth and not Falsehood.

Moving from the general fact that Fantasy should (and must) impart morality, how does Faërie do so specifically and uniquely? I say that the answer lies in the indescribable and inexpressible Beauty which permeates all Elfland. This Beauty (which I shall thoroughly discuss soon enough) beguiles the unwary, for few enter that Perilous Realm with their defenses raised, thinking that they will merely read a story devoid of any moral implications. It enamours the unsuspecting mind and, therefore, more effectively installs Truth within the heart of the wanderer whom Beauty ensnared unawares.

Added to this is the fact that many, yea, most of the truths Faërie purports have largely been rejected with scorn on Earth—yet these truths are eagerly imbibed under the guise of Fantasy. Perhaps Elfland supports no greater truth than its enthusiastic acknowledgement and affirmation of the supernatural—the very thing which our materialistic, scientific, and violently atheistic society has nigh unanimously rejected with the greatest ferocity of scorn, derision, and detest possible for fallen man to conjure. Yet even the most vehement objector will quietly settle down to read a fantasy 'just for fun', not suspecting that such material defends the very position he impugns with unbridled aversion. C.S. Lewis, who was formerly such a man, truly jested that a "young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading" (H.L. Poe 254). For in fantasy he unwittingly imbibes the very truths he veritably abhors.

Another strength of Faërie's approach to moral instruction is that it often deals in symbolism which sneak past the walls produced by the explicit or preachy messages of other mediums. For the believer, these metaphors offer themselves as goldmines of Truth to be explored and plumbed in full. But for the atheist, these beautiful pictures confound and amaze—yet delight, thus circumventing the almost instinctive defenses which spring into action if such truths were expressed explicitly. And with these final words said, I conclude this discussion on Faërie's morality.

The second category of Faërie's ends is Recovery or Returnism and the various aspects thereof. I will first discuss how the negative attributes of Elfland affect this Recovery. Then I shall proceed to how its positive qualities do so before concluding with an investigation into Escapism and how that relates to Returnism.

First, however, I must articulate what this Recovery is. Tolkien comprehensively described it thus: "Recovery (which includes return and renewal of health) is a re-gaining—regaining of a clear view. I do not say 'seeing things as they are' and involve myself with the philosophers, though I might venture to say 'seeing things as we are (or were) meant to see them'—as things apart from ourselves" (373). And this is exactly what I  mean by the term 'Returnism'. To put it another way, Faërie ought to awaken or, shall I say, re-awaken us to various realities in the world, giving us a type of truesight. What these realities are and how they are produced will be my endeavor to explicate.

As promised, I will first examine the negative qualities of Elfland which awaken Man to his senses. This essentially means that the dangers of Faërie possess a function; for Elfland does indeed harbor many perils. As Smith of Wootton Major astutely realized, "the marvels of Faery cannot be approached without danger" (Tolkien 257); and, as Anados learned, if "there are great splendors, there are corresponding horrors; heights and depths; beautiful women and awful fiends; noble men and weaklings" (MacDonald 171). Now, in part, these very real dangers counteract the temptation to indulge in over-escapism which induces a misapplied dissatisfaction with Earth. Mind you, Escapism is a beautiful and a beneficial thing; however, it is all too easy to excessively immerse oneself in Elfland to an inappropriate extent with the unfortunate result that one becomes improperly discontent with the world, desiring to remain in Faërie instead of resuming his duties and responsibilities on Earth. Thus, these dangers 'break the spell', so to speak, of that Perilous Realm and, subsequently, return and redirect our focus back to Earth. Later I will discuss the moral intent behind these dangers and why they are so seductive when I investigate Beauty. But for the present, let us proceed to how the positive aspects of Faërie produce Returnism or Recovery and a proper dissatisfaction with this Earth.

I firmly believe that the Beauty of Elfland is what allures those who venture thither. But Faërie is not meant to be the permanent residence of Man. Perhaps the elves may frolick free in that lovely land; but Man is meant to return to the realm of his birth back on Earth. Like Smith, we must eventually "come back to hammer and tongs" (Tolkien 274). Thus, when one returns from his sojourn, how is the memory of Elfland's beauty supposed to affect him once he has awoken from this fantastical trance? Well, when one recollects Faërie's beauty whilst observing the ugliness of Earth, an acceptable disillusionment ought to arise within his breast; for Elfland depicts, to some extent, a World Without a Fall in its state of undimmed, unvarnished, and untainted perfection. We should return to Earth and find ourselves disgusted with the depravity of the world and its filthiness. This reaction is not wrong in the least, unless one despairs that Earth is doomed, its fate sealed, and consequently strives to desert this world through unacceptable Escapism. Over-escapism, as I call it, is a great evil, indeed; for it twists that which is beautiful into a deformed echo far flung from a real Escape.

On the other hand, if one perceives the pitiful estate of the world and consequently hopes and dreams for this world as it one day shall be, then he does rightly; for Faërie is meant to give one a taste of Earth as it once was, should now be, and shall be once again after Christ establishes the New Heavens and New Earth. This blessèd foretaste—this "fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world" (Tolkien 384)—should leave Man with hope, not despair, as he receives a vision of future glory. And Peace should flow from Hope. This is the Yearning which so many feel after they have glimpsed Faërie and its Beauty.

But after they have tasted Joy those who cannot see the glorious future are left with only two courses of action: 1) to vainly hope that such a sublime experience will occur again while they live, or 2) to be engulfed in bleak despair by attempting to satisfy their Yearning with insubstantial, fleeting pleasures which leave them emptier than before. Once you have tasted Lotus leaf, Erysichthon's fate becomes your own: You will devour the empty morsels of the world—its sawdust and ashes—till you consume yourself in the process. Such is the danger of the Perilous Realm. Again, I postpone moral application for my discussion on Beauty.

Another facet of positive Returnism now presents itself—Recovery of Sight. This is how Faërie refreshes the sojourner; for, once he returns, he ought to perceive the world in a whole new light. After one has tasted the mysterious beauties of that land, he should never be able to observe the world as mundane and ordinary. The impact of Faërie's acceptance of the supernatural gives a delightful uncertainty to this world which relieves one of the dead drear that modern scientists pretend orchestrates Earth. Many will not admit it but we all know that we would soon tire of a perfectly predictable world, and would quickly lose all hope and joy. But this is not so, for ours is an Earth where the unexpected may, and often does, occur—and Elfland reminds us of this if we have forgotten and refreshes those of us who know that this is the case.

This is exactly what happened to Chesterton. He says that "fairy tales founded in me two convictions; first, that this world is a wild and startling place, which might have been quite different, but which is quite delightful; second, that before this wildness and delight one may well be modest and submit to the queerest limitations of so queer a kindness" (64). He returned from Elfland with renewed sight and a humble spirit. In fact, this kind of innocent ignorance and unmitigated Wonder which Chesterton experienced is one of the prime aspects of proper childlikeness which Faërie ought to cultivate; for children, not knowing much about the world, perceive it as inexplicably mysterious, allowing their imaginations to roam free, unhampered by Reason and Logic. In the words of Tolkien, "'He who would enter into the Kingdom of Faërie should have the heart of a little child.' For that possession is necessary to all high adventure, into kingdoms both less and far greater than Faërie" (358). 

However, we all know that certain qualities of childhood ought to be discarded with time and age—immaturity, foolish ignorance, and inexperience to name a few—these are childish characteristics. But what I am promoting is the kind of childlike "humility and innocence… [which does] not necessarily imply an uncritical wonder, nor indeed an uncritical tenderness" (Tolkien 358). Nay, the facets which I highlight are ones which all must retain if they desire infinite, unblemished Joy eternal; for none can find the Source of Joy without humbling himself as a little child before the throne of Almighty God (cf. Mk. 10:15).

Well, now that I have spoken on two of my three points concerning Recovery of Sight, I cannot depart from this discussion without mentioning Escapism. I have previously stated that over-escapism is flagrantly improper and defies the purpose of Faërie in Recovery while also irresponsibly denying Man's duties on Earth. Nevertheless, Tolkien distinguished "the Escape of the Prisoner [from] the Flight of the Deserter" (376). It is proper for us to yearn to escape momentarily from the confines of this fallen, sinful world in order to experience the blessèd joys, beauties, and perfections Elfland has to offer. In so doing, our intention should not be to flee forever from the world—past, present, and future—but to find Earth as it ought to be. And once Faërie has satisfied that Yearning, we must not lazily refuse to return to Earth and shirk our responsibilities there. Nay! We must gird up our loins and re-enter the world in which Man is meant to dwell.

A little rest is good and profitable; but the sluggard is a fool and, therefore, doomed. Vacation has its place; but, soon enough, one must resume his normal life again. In the same way, Escape ought to align with Recovery—it ought to lead to Return. Let me say that again: Escape should always lead to Return. If Escape does not proceed to Return, then it has miserably failed and missed its target (or the adventurer has fallen). Therefore, flee every Escape which promises anything more than temporary relief. Tempting and alluring though it be, plug your ears as readily as if it were a siren-song of old, luring you to your doom. Escape is but a blessèd foretaste of the Joy and Peace which is to come—and it should be nothing more than temporary.

With that lengthy discussion on Recovery, Return, and Escape behind us, let us now proceed to the third realm of the purposes of Faërie: its innate worth as a work of sub-created Art. This is touching on the subject of Beauty; but, since Elfland is meant to be aesthetically appealing to our emotions as well as to our minds and souls, therefore, one can rightly judge and appreciate it simply as a masterful work of Art. 

And this is what Edgar Allan Poe, the great champion of art for art's sake, argued that "under the sun there neither exists nor can exist any work more thoroughly dignified—more supremely noble than this very poem—this poem per se—this poem which is a poem and nothing more—this poem written solely for the poem's sake" (7). Though, in this context, he is focusing on poetry, the same can be said about any piece of Art—from poetry to music to Faërie.

In fact, we would be wrong to ignore this vital facet of Faërie and misguided to analyze it completely disregarding the fact that Elfland's Beauty can, and should, be appreciated for what it is—Art. With that said, we should not merely observe Faërie as an aesthetic work, for it serves higher and deeper purposes, as well. It would be naïve and childish of us to gaze upon Elfland only through the lens of Art; for it possesses such a wealth of knowledge, wisdom, and opportunity for those who would simply take the time and make the effort to seek out such golden nuggets. Nevertheless, this innate and aesthetic appreciation of Elfland must not be overlooked; for it is an important part of the multifaceted purposes, functions, and values of Faërie.

Additionally, the sub-creation of a world, such as Elfland, is a manifestation of the image of God in Man and a way to exercise our duty to imitate God while steering clear of usurping His authority over what we create. We utilize our God-given capabilities in the exercise of sub-creation, and this is right and proper of us. If one uses the power of sub-creation to flee the world or to rebel against God's ethical prohibitions, he falls far short of his responsibilities as a Man made imago Dei. Nevertheless, since Faërie is certainly not an illegitimate manifestation of sub-creation (since it aims at Return), then that realm possesses value as a demonstration of proper Godlikeness in Man; for, since it is established on God's moral Truth, Elfland does not supplant God's domain and is, consequently, good.

Beauty

With that lengthy discussion concluded, I will now endeavor to discuss the Beauty of Faërie to which I have already alluded and which constitutes a vital role therein. The fact that Beauty is a fundamentally integral component of Elfland should be quite obvious to you from what I have said thus far; nevertheless, I will summarize my previous conclusions and add to them in this discussion.

I will leave it for another time to banter over the exact definition of Beauty, but I must clarify what I mean by the term. In my observations of Beauty within Faërie, I have noticed that three primary avenues of Art exist therein: those of land, story, and song. Beauty extends far beyond the realm of the visual and reaches to the circles of words, music, and story. Indeed, much of the Beauty of Elfland resides in its spectacular landscape with physically attractive creatures; but its Beauty permeates it far more deeply and far more thoroughly than merely this—the beauties of story and song are also woven therein.

I have noticed in many Faërie-stories (which I would differentiate from 'fairy tales') the indisputable presence of poetry and music. Take, for instance, Phantastes by George MacDonald and the Alice stories by Lewis Carroll: An untold plethora of poetic performances and extemporaneous recitations populate those tales. Indeed, Edmund Spenser's masterpiece The Faerie Queene is one massive, magnificent poem! The same goes for music. Many times the power and prominence of music integrates itself into Faërie. Why? Because music (along with poetry) is one of the noblest manifestations of Beauty since, according to Poe, it "is in Music, perhaps, that the soul most nearly attains the great end for which…it struggles—the creation of supernal Beauty" (9). Actually, this whole realm of Beauty possesses a name of its own: Poesy. Poesy encapsulates all the nuances of music and poetry within Elfland. Indeed, Faërie is inherently a poetic land since, according to Lewis's "very vague and modest notion of poetry", it "arouses and in part satisfies the imagination" (117). Thus, poesy is an integral aspect of Faërie, yet modern fantasy has discarded its roots in Elfland; and, with that, it has largely forsaken so many of the marvelously poetic beauties of that glorious realm. Besides Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, when was the last time you stumbled upon more than a single, random poem in a modern fantasy novel? When? (Though I must admit that The Wingfeather Saga by Andrew Peterson is a delightful exception.)

The third realm of Art (which is, for our purposes, synonymous with Beauty since all of Faërie is manmade) is that of story. Since you primarily experience Elfland through literary or narrative means, therefore, the tales about Faërie must possess the same quality of Art in them which Faërie has, so that they can communicate its beauties to the reader. Of course, all tales should possess Art in plot and the telling thereof; but I point this out particularly for Elfland since one of its prime purposes is to impart a recognition of Beauty, a realization which furthers its ultimate ends.

As I just stated, Beauty has a function within Faërie—it is not there 'just because'. Nay, such a notion is as foolish as it is niëve. And one of Beauty's purposes is to produce Joy. Why this is I shall discuss soon enough. Another is that it facilitates Moral Instruction. As I have explained, when one is beguiled by the Beauty of that Perilous Realm, he does not notice its moral influence on him, thus giving its instruction more power and efficacy than if it were presented otherwise.

Moreover, Beauty assists Recovery—the aesthetic grandeur of Faërie ought to stand in stark contrast to Earth's degradation and deformity. When one returns to Earth, he ought to recollect the Beauty of Elfland and strive to realize, on Earth, the hope he has received. Furthermore, I claimed that the dangers of Faërie are inhibitions to indulge in over-escapism. Well, there is a reason that many times these dangers are beautiful—physically alluring.

One reason is that it makes these dangers all the more potent and destructive, thus more powerfully enforcing Faërie's morals through their severity. Another is that the presence of alluring evils reveals an aspect of Reality; for evil on Earth never desires to present itself as the deformed abomination it is, but rather cloaks itself in robes of white, masquerading as an angel of Light (2 Cor. 11:14). However, the problem is that we, like Anodos, cannot help but query, "How can [apparent] beauty and [actual] ugliness dwell so near? (MacDonald 48). As Tolkien put it, we all too often "find it difficult to conceive of evil and beauty together" (380). But, after experiencing a seemingly beautiful evil in Faërie, we will be better prepared and equipped for life on Earth. For how often does sin display the pleasures it can offer immediately while concealing the pains it requires inevitably!

I have alluded to this beforehand, but I shall clearly articulate myself now: Elfland is a training ground for life on Earth. This is yet another of its multitudinous purposes: to train and equip one for the trials and temptations he will face in this world. How much better would it be to live your life with the tools Elfland provides than to wander in ignorance though such a perilous realm as ours is. As MacDonald's Anodos muses just after returning from Fairy Land: 

My mind soon grew calm; and I began the duties of my new position, somewhat instructed, I hoped, by the adventures that had befallen me in Fairy Land. Could I translate the experience of my travels there, into common life? This was the question. Or must I live it all over again, and learn it all over again, in the other forms that belong to the world of men, whose experience yet runs parallel to that of Fairy Land? These questions I cannot yet answer. (184)

Nevertheless, for all Faërie's dangers, Earth infinitely exceeds it in this regard: Here the eternal bliss and infinite Joy of your very soul is at stake. So if you stumble in Elfland, may that failing warn and strengthen you against falling on Earth.

I have already answered why Faërie is beautiful, but I must say one final word before we proceed to Joy. As I have declared previously, Elfland depicts, to an extent, Earth as it was, should now be, and shall be once again. And the primary means through which this depiction of Earth garners its poignancy, is through its Beauty. Before Man fell, the world operated and existed in a state of unparalleled Beauty and perfection; and, after Christ returns to establish His kingly throne on Earth, the world will not only return to that pre-Fall condition, but shall actually surpass the quality of its original perfection to an unimaginable, incomprehensible degree. Compared to what Earth will be one day, Faërie is but a pale foreshadowing of that glorious Dawn to end all other dawns—earthly as well as fantastical. This is the Hope which one retains after he has departed from Elfland. This is the Hope which encourages him to persist in striving to make the world truly lovely. This is the Hope which pushes him on to transform the cosmos closer and closer to the New Heavens and New Earth. All these stem from this blessèd vision of Faërie's Beauty. And from this reassuring Hope springs Peace—the Peace which passess all understanding.

Joy

Well, before we conclude this investigation into these various aspects of Faërie, I must discuss the incredible phenomenon of Joy which is one of the most profoundly delightful mysteries of that spectacular realm. Whereas most have a vague sense of the definition of Beauty, many do not know what Joy is precisely—most are left in the dark as to its exact definition. Thus, I shall attempt to provide you with one. On one hand, Tolkien said that the "peculiar quality of the 'joy' in successful Fantasy [including Faërie] can thus be explained as a sudden glimpse of the underlying reality or truth" (387); but, for our purposes (though not in contradiction to Tolkien), Joy is an ardent, loving response to a revelation or manifestation of Beauty. In other words, Joy is a facet of Love—a love springing from the observation of Beauty. I described this connection of Beauty and Joy earlier, but now all is made clear.

When one enters Elfland, its sheer Beauty immerses him with its splendor. And as he gazes upon its wonders with awe, he ought to respond with love proportionate to the degree of Beauty he witnesses. Faërie possesses Beauty to an extraordinary degree, so this outpouring of love gains an intensity and earnestness which makes the experience of Joy in Elfland utterly unique. This cathartic love is a proper response to this magnificent display of Art, and it therefore produces Joy.

However, although this Joy is indeed an experience, it is also more than merely an experience. Once one has tasted Faërie's Joy, he can never forget its poignancy—it will always resound within his soul. For instance, even though Smith did not enter Faery "for some time", nevertheless, "he could not forsake it, and when he returned his desire was still stronger to go deep into the land" (Tolkien 260). Thus, Joy is also a perpetual state with permanent effects upon a person. In fact, Joy can produce (at least) three primary results or reactions.

The first is that one vainly hopes to taste this Joy again. No one possesses any guarantee that he will ever taste Joy again in this life, but some delude themselves into thinking that they will. The second response is even more disparaging. Since the aftertaste of Joy never fully departs from one's mouth, mind, and memory, those who possess no hope for Joy beyond the grave rightly despair of ever tasting it in the future. Some bear with this despair of never tasting it again, and subsequently live their lives beneath a perpetual cloud of melancholic gloom. But others, those whom this aftertaste consumes, are driven mad with Grief and Yearning and replace true and pure Joy with insubstantial, fleeting substitutes. Sadly, many such alternatives exist, but they all are the empty pleasures of the world which seem to satisfy for a moment only to leave you emptier than you were before.

However, ere I articulate the third and proper response, I must clarify this Grief and Yearning. These in themselves are not evil. Indeed, they can drive one into wickedness; but, as Tolkien exclaims, "of what human thing in this fallen world is that not true?" (370) Thus, the potential for misuse does not condemn the very essence of a thing. If honey is dripped on a starving tongue, the man tastes its sweetness for a fleeting moment before the bitter aftertaste replaces the former delight. Consequently, the man grieves before yearning to enjoy another drop. This is not an improper reaction but an entirely natural one. But if Abraham had given Lazarus the single droplet for which he pleaded, it would have only made him thirstier. And, as Snorri Sturluson relates, after catching a glimpse of Gerd, "Frey went away full of grief" precisely because he had just delighted in her beauty (50). You see, Grief is merely the memory of past Joy. In fact, the degree of Grief directly relates to the magnitude of the Joy experienced: the greater the present Grief, the greater the prior Joy. 

This truth is affirmed by none other than Dante Alighieri himself. He declared, through the mouth of the infamous Francesca, that "[t]here is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness" (Inferno V.121-3). And if the witness of this nefarious slick-talker is not enough, Boethius's Philosophy proclaims that "[i]n all adversity of fortune, the most wretched kind is once to have been happy" (II.IV). Additionally, we should not forget that this principle works not only for grief, but also for Joy: Your delight is heightened in proportion to the sorrows you have suffered. And if these illustrious authorities do not persuade you that this is the case, then I would simply direct you to examine your very own 'every-day' experience of this life.

However, while Grief is backward-looking, Yearning is forward-seeking; for Yearning is the intense desire to re-taste Joy. Once the Joy has passed, it naturally results in Grief—a sublime sorrow which truly is akin to bereavement (cf. Tolkien 265, 272). But with time, this Grief should proceed and transform into Yearning. As Poe described, "The intense melancholy [which certain poems produce through a Joy remembered]…we find thrilling us to the soul—while there is the truest poetic elevation in the thrill. The impression left is one of a pleasurable sadness. And if…there be more or less a similar tone always apparent [in much poetry], let me remind you that…this certain taint of sadness is inseparably connected with all the higher manifestations of true Beauty. It is, nevertheless, [in the words of Longfellow,]

A feeling of sadness and longing

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain" (14).

And from this state of Yearning, Hope should spring; for Hope is the assurance that Yearning shall be quenched with perfect Joy. And from the flower of Hope blossoms Peace. This Hope that one will taste Joy once again and not only for a fleeting moment passed and gone, but for all eternity in infinite quantities—this Hope for Joy shall be fulfilled when Man reigns beside the King of the Cosmos who is also his Father.

Another fascinating aspect which I must note before moving on, is the vanity of the first two initial reactions—to seek (in the first) or to manufacture (in the second) full Joy on Earth. Let me use an illustration. Joy is like a treasure which a man has found. As long as he remains by that treasure, he experiences unparalleled delight in its riches. But soon enough, he must leave and resume his normal duties; however, he marks the site of the treasure, intending to return shortly, never forgetting its splendor. Nevertheless, that very night, a great storm descends, pouring copious quantities of water upon the land and washing away all the markers the man had placed around the treasure. The next morning, the man hurries to the approximate place of the treasure; but, since no markers remain from the deluge, in all his labors he finds it not. In fact, the harder he searches, the more he strays from its true location and the more he hides it from himself. But he cannot purge the memory of that treasure from his mind, so he commissions a smith to forge a great hoard entirely devoid of the precious metals they represent. Then he deludes himself into believing he has discovered the treasure and revels in that false knowledge. 

Or, perhaps, he goes back into the world seeking the treasure he has lost. But, finding it not, he contents himself with the most meager of rewards, eventually considering a shard of scratched quartz which he can easily procure to be more valuable than a flawless diamond which "dances from [his] grasp and flees". Such is the despair of the hopeless; for those without promises allow Grief and Yearning to become Despair.

One cannot manufacture Joy nor can he reproduce it; and, if he attempts to do so, he treads the path to Hell on empty, fleeting, vain pleasures which are food for swine when compared to the delicacy of Joy. This means that Joy surprises the unwary, touching those who seek it not and who care not for it. It pounces upon them unawares; but, once they have tasted its sweetness, they shall never be the same again, for they will not be able to forget its honey on their lips. Such is the delightful peril of that land.

So how should you properly respond to Joy with its consequent Grief and (hopefully) subsequent Yearning? Well, first of all, these tastes of supernal Bliss in Faërie "are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited", as Lewis once said (31). Thus, you should take the piercing aftertaste of Joy as a poignant foretaste of glory in God's courts. To this extent, Joy acts, in Tolkien's words, as "a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium in the real world" (387) since it should lead us nearer to the Lord. It should goad you on to be worthy to receive Joy in the New Heavens and New Earth—it should spur you to act righteously. You should return to Earth and worship and glorify God more fervently and sincerely than you ever had done prior to your sojourn in Faërie. 

Joy is a powerful tool in the hands of the Lord; for not even the stoutest atheist can experience it and walk away convinced, in his heart of hearts, that merely matter and energy compose the universe. This is what happened to Lewis. The more he examined his glimpse of Joy, the more he realized its incompatibility with absolute materialism. This is the highest purpose of Elfland—to give one a taste of communion with the presence of the Almighty; for this leads not only to Return and Recovery, but also to truesight of and entry into the promise of Hope and Peace offered to all who place their whole beings in God's omnipotent hands. The Lord alone can assuage our Grief and satisfy our Yearning in full, for He is glorified thereby.

On this note, I conclude this address, this investigation into Faërie. I pray it has instructed you unto wisdom; for Fantasy is no idle pursuit, but is an avenue to the Lord of Eternal Joy. Take what you will from the words I have spoken, and I leave you with a brief verse of poetry about this bygone and hoped-for Joy:

You may not now find it,

You cannot rewind it;

So staying, keep praying

To taste Joy in Heav'n.

Finis

Works Cited

Alighieri, Dante. The Divine Comedy: Volume I: Inferno. Translated by Mark Musa, Penguin Books, 2003.

Boethius. The Consolation of Philosophy. Translated by Victor Watts, Penguin Books, 1999.

Carpenter, Humphrey. J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography. HarperCollinsPublishers, 1998.

Chesterton, G.K. Orthodoxy. Ignatius Press, 1995.

Lewis, C.S. The Weight of Glory: And Other Addresses. HarperOne, 2001.

MacDonald, George. Phantastes: A Faerie Romance. Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2000.

Poe, Edgar Allan. The Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Volume V, Arcadia House, 1950.

Poe, Harry Lee. Becoming C.S. Lewis. Crossway, 2019.

Sturluson, Snorri. The Prose Edda. Translated by R.B. Anderson, Happy Hour Books, 2023.

Tolkien, J.R.R. Tales From the Perilous Realm. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2008.