Category: J.R.R. Tolkien

Pilfering Tolkien Linguistics

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, Cartoons with a Message, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Likely Useless Trivia, Middle Earth, Modern Life, Words, Writing7 Comments

When a great author, say of the magnitude of J.R.R. Tolkien, creates ingenious new words, and even entire languages, there are several common reactions. Most readers simply respond with silent awe. Others are inspired to emulate their efforts. A small number reuse those very words as a sincere homage. 

And a handful of “admirers” go so far as to “appropriate” the words themselves, for their personal benefit.

C.S. Lewis, no mean linguist himself, recognized his friend Tolkien’s brilliance. In his preface to That Hideous Strength he praised Tolkien’s yet-to-be-published Silmarillion. In a 1951 letter he mentions misspelling the word Numenor.

My Numinor was a mispelling: it ought to be Numenor. The private mythology to which it belongs grew out of the private language which Tolkien had invented: a real language with roots and sound-laws such as only a great philologist could invent.

He says he found that it was impossible to invent a language without at the same time inventing a mythology.

J.R.R. Tolkien was an internationally renowned philologist, and his impressive skill is one of the great wonders we encounter in Middle Earth. A number of words from his created languages – particularly his ethereal Elvish tongues – have been lifted to be used in commercial activities unconnected to Tolkien’s interests.

For example, Palantir. This was the word for the “seeing stone,” which played a prominent role in The Two Towers. In light of Tolkien’s love of nature, and corresponding suspicion of technological advancement, it is especially odd that the company adopting this label is on the leading edge of Artificial Intelligence.

Perhaps Tolkien’s dread would have been dispelled by one of Palantir’s disarming mottos: “We believe in augmenting human intelligence, not replacing it.”

A combat veteran of WWI, like his fellow Inkling C.S. Lewis, Tolkien was appalled by war’s horrors. Even in the War of the Rings, with its moments of glorious heroism and sacrifice, the bloody heart of Mars remains nearly invincible. Because of this mixed attitude toward war, some have wondered how he would have felt about a defense (i.e. military) corporation adopting one of his creations.

Andúril was the name of the most important weapon forged in Middle Earth. It was actually reforged from the broken fragments of Narsil, the longsword which defeated Sauron by severing the One Ring from his hand.

While this description from the Anduril company resonates with our modern ear, I am not convinced that it sounds very Tolkienesque. Anduril: “Transforming defense capabilities with advanced technology. The battlefield has changed. How we deter & defend needs to change too.”

For an article about a billionaire investor who is consumed by mining Tolkien’s tomes for the businesses he founds (PayPal excepted), check out “The hidden logic of Peter Thiel’s ‘Lord of the Rings’-inspired company names.”

C.S. Lewis’ Unconscious Sharing

In a 1965 letter, written after Lewis’ death, Tolkien commented on how his friend had used subtle variations of several Elvish words in several of his fictional works.

Tolkien says Lewis “had the peculiarity that he liked to be read to. All that he knew of my ‘matter’ was what his capacious but not infallible memory retained from my reading to him as sole audience.” Thus, he surmises that:

C.S. Lewis was one of the only three persons who have so far read all or a considerable part of my ‘mythology’ of the First and Second Ages, which had already been in the main lines constructed before we met. . . . His spelling numinor is a hearing error, aided, no doubt, by his association of the name with Latin nūmen, nūmina, and the adjective ‘numinous.’

Lewis was, I think, impressed by ‘the Silmarillion and all that,’ and certainly retained some vague memories of it and of its names in mind. For instance, since he had heard it, before he composed or thought of Out of the Silent Planet, I imagine that Eldil is an echo of the Eldar; in Perelandra ‘Tor and Tinidril’ are certainly an echo, since Tuor and Idril, parents of Eärendil, are major characters in ‘The Fall of Gondolin,’ the earliest written of the legends of the First Age. But his own mythology (incipient and never fully realized) was quite different.

An Entertaining Diversion

Years ago I linked to an entertaining game that plays on the linguistic eloquence and mystery Tolkien exhibited in naming his characters. I was delighted to see now that it is still available online.

Antidepressants or Tolkien challenges players – you can play solo, but it’s more fun with others – to guess if a given word is an antidepressant drug or the name of one of Tolkien’s characters. Don’t expect to score 100%, but do expect to smile at some of the examples.

Tinker Bell, the Inklings, and Disney

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, Classics Worth Revisiting, Films, Great Authors, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Likely Useless Trivia, Literature, Middle Earth, Modern Life, Mythology, Narnia, Nature, Publishing, The Future, Writing4 Comments

Poor Tinker Bell. The political prejudices of our day have caught up with the sparkling fairy, and relegated her to a significantly reduced presence in the Disney universe.

Inside the Magic reported “Tinker Bell seems to have left Walt Disney World and is now on her way back to Neverland following a recent change at Walt Disney World Resort.” You can read the tragic tale on their site.

. . . once more, Disney’s animated classic, Peter Pan (1953), is under scrutiny, with Disney issuing a statement regarding Captain Hook and Tinker Bell as characters with potential concerns.

Linking poor Tink to a murderous pirate seems a bit of a stretch, and she has not been fully banished, but she has definitely been demoted. According to TMZ, Disney alleges the company’s “own people felt she wasn’t a good role model for girls in the 21st century.”

Well, eventually she too will be in the public domain, like Mickey Mouse. Actually, her literary portrait as introduced in the play, coincidentally just entered the public domain this year (2024)!

However, should you reside in the United Kingdom, beware that in 1988, the copyright holder, Great Ormond Street Hospital, was granted the rights to Peter Pan “in perpetuity.”

The Creator of Tinker Bell & Peter Pan

Tinker Bell is one of the most memorable characters in Neverland, the creation of James Matthew Barrie (1860-1937). He was a prolific Scottish writer and is best known for his 1911 novel, Peter and Wendy – which initially debuted in the form of a stage play in 1904, as Peter Pan; or, the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up.

Peter Pan was actually introduced to the world as a baby in The Little White Bird. Tinker Bell does not appear in the novel, but the following description of J.M. Barrie’s fairy mythology is quite fanciful.

One of the great differences between the fairies and us is that they never do anything useful. When the first baby laughed for the first time, his laugh broke into a million pieces, and they all went skipping about. That was the beginning of fairies.

They look tremendously busy, you know, as if they had not a moment to spare, but if you were to ask them what they are doing, they could not tell you in the least. They are frightfully ignorant, and everything they do is make-believe.

They have a postman, but he never calls except at Christmas with his little box, and though they have beautiful schools, nothing is taught in them; the youngest child being chief person is always elected mistress, and when she has called the roll, they all go out for a walk and never come back.

It is a very noticeable thing that, in fairy families, the youngest is always chief person, and usually becomes a prince or princess; and children remember this, and think it must be so among humans also, and that is why they are often made uneasy when they come upon their mother furtively putting new frills on the basinette.

Barrie continues, describing how infants are simply following fairy “ways” when they misbehave, and they naturally experience “exasperation, because we don’t understand [them], though [they are] talking an intelligible language . . . fairy.”

Returning to the person of Tinker Bell herself, she outgrew her supporting role as, in the words of her creator, “a common fairy.” She was literally a tinker, who died following the departure of Wendy and her brothers from Neverland. 

Presumably, some of the gatekeepers at Disney would have preferred that the affection of the crowds had not restored her to life. 

The Inklings

The Imaginative Conservative offers an interesting take on C.S. Lewis’ view of fairies. I quote a portion related to our present subject.

Lewis treats the subject of fairies in . . . The Discarded Image. . . . After explaining the medieval understanding of the heavens and planetary systems, Lewis turns to what he calls the Longaevi. He avoids the term “fairies” because it is “tarnished by pantomime and bad children’s books with worse illustrations.” (Probably referring to Barrie’s popular play and Princess Mary’s Gift Book – the book from which Elsie and Frances clipped the pictures they used in their fake photos.)

Jane Douglass, an American actress and playwright, contributed a fascinating essay to C.S. Lewis at the Breakfast Table, and Other Reminiscences. One wonderful portion of “An Enduring Friendship” describes Lewis’ thoughts about the possible dramatization of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. 

C.S. Lewis deemed the prospect absurd on its face, saying “I believe plays should be plays, poems, poems, novels, novels, stories, stories, and certainly the book you mention is pure narrative.” So much for a partially surviving 1967 series, the 1979 animation, the 1988 BBC television series, and the cinematic version(s) which began in 2005. Oh, and there is the matter of the impending Netflix telling which remains a closely guarded secret. Douglass continued with a reference to Disney.

He repeated his dread of such things as radio and television apparatus and expressed his dislike of talking films. I said I quite understood this, and that nothing would distress me more than that he should think that I had in mind anything like the Walt Disney shows; I hoped nobody had suggested the book to Mr. Disney.

This seemed to relieve Mr. Lewis to such an extent that I thought perhaps Mr. Disney had been after the book, but of course I did not ask. And in his usual generous way, Mr. Lewis said, “Too bad we didn’t know Walt Disney before he was spoiled, isn’t it?”

Author Jim Denney has a nice article on “What C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien Thought of Walt Disney” in which he describes parallels between the live of Lewis and Disney and concludes, “you might think that, with all that C.S. Lewis and Walt Disney had in common, they might have been mutual admirers – but that was not the case.”

Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs debuted in the United States in 1937 and in the United Kingdom in 1938. . . . A few months later, Lewis went to see it again, this time with his good friend (and fellow Oxford professor) J.R.R. Tolkien.

Coincidentally, Tolkien’s first novel The Hobbit had been published in September 1937, just three months before the American debut of Snow White.

Their greatest disappointment was in Disney’s utterly comical take on dwarves and the absence of the slightest air of “the mythic nobility of the dwarves from Germanic folklore.”

Although Snow White is itself a fairy tale, fairy characters are not to be found in the film. In the same way, J.R.R. Tolkien referred to the Lord of the Rings as a “fairy story” for adults, yet they do not appear to dwell in Middle Earth.

In fact, according to The Encyclopedia of Arda, “the name ‘Faerie’ belongs to an early period of Tolkien’s writings, and is never seen in The Lord of the Rings, but it does survive in a single usage in the earlier book The Hobbit.” And even in that case, it refers not to a population, but to a place.

On the Effect of Tinker Bell

Tinker Bell’s significance in the world is not confined to literature, or the interests of children. There is a brilliant application of her legend which has been transposed into the psychological realm. 

It’s call the “Tinker Bell Effect,” and “Be(lie)ve It or Not,” from Psychology Today, offers the following description.

One theory manifesting connections among belief, psychology, and mythology is the Tinkerbell effect named for the fairy Tinker Bell of Peter Pan whose resuscitation depends upon the audience expressing their belief in fairies through clapping . . .

The Tinkerbell effect refers to those things that exist only through imaginative acts and because people believe in them. The Reverse Tinkerbell effect maintains that, somewhat paradoxically, the more people believe in something the more likely it is to disappear. 

In their article, the psychologists parenthetically offer an additional application of Tinker Bell’s nature to their area of study. (It actually appears in the paragraph above, where I replaced it with an ellipsis.)

(because she is so small that she can only hold one feeling at a time, Tinkerbell is also a model for mood disorders and difficulties with emotional self-regulation)

Fascinating. It seems to me this insight opens the door to further literary exploration of the Tinker Bell Phenomenon that would be of interest to writers and literary critics alike. I close with my proposal for a new label for an ancient plague afflicting fictional works. If it interests any scholars among you, I invite you to develop it further and claim it as your own.

Tinker Bell (var. Tinkerbell) Crippling Character Creation Complete Content Complexity Phenomenon: The invention of fictional characters who lack depth and bear no resemblance to real people. Literary tropes that are often referred to as one-dimensional or “flat” characters. (See nearly all Marvel supervillains.)

P.S. – Feel free to abbr. the admittedly verbose proposed title; keeping in mind most readers prefer brief reads.

Tortured Writing & the Inklings

On By robstroudIn Books, C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Classics Worth Revisiting, Great Authors, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Likely Useless Trivia, Literature, Poetry, Words, Writing12 Comments

Amanda McKittrick Ros (1860-1939) was an Irish poet and novelist beloved by the Oxford Inklings. “Beloved” here is used in the sense of treasured for its distinctiveness, rather than admired for its artistry.

An article about Ros in Smithsonian Magazine is subtitled: “Amanda McKittrick Ros predicted she would achieve lasting fame as a novelist. Unfortunately, she did.”

So how is it that a writer described by the Oxford Companion to Irish Literature (OCIL) as authoring “unconscious comedy of a very high order” came to occupy a special place within the company of C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and their literary fellows? Why did they begin reading her works as a sort of contest, with the challenge of neither laughing nor smiling as they did so?

It was not because her mother (or she herself) christened her after a character in The Children of the Abbey, published in 1796. (Her initial name was “Anna.”)

No, it was due to an intrinsic element of her frequently alliterative artistry, described by OCIL in the following manner.

She published two sentimental romances, Irene Iddlesleigh (1897) and Delina Delany (1898), both in an idiosyncratic manner that provides unconscious comedy of a very high order. . . .

Most of her published writings appeared posthumously as a result of literary curiosity.

Many writers would agree that writing comedy is quite challenging. Comedy Crowd is devoted to helping writers gain some skill in this arena, and if you take a moment to check out their video about failed puns – after you finish reading this post – you won’t be disappointed. 

As one commenter on SleuthSayers puts it, “. . . writing humor isn’t easy. It’s even dangerous: trying to be funny and failing would be almost as bad as being funny when you’re trying to be serious.” Sadly, the worst of these options proved to be the fortune of poor Amanda.

Even her native Northern Ireland Library Authority confesses that her “writing style can only be described as elaborate, melodramatic, using startling descriptions with mixed metaphors and inappropriate alliteration with the result being unintentionally hilarious.”

In her collection “Poems of Puncture,” I came across a piece titled “Reverend Goliath Ginbottle.” Being a reverend myself, I eagerly listened to a LibriVox recording of the poem (which you can download for free from Internet Archive), and I was not disappointed. Her description of this “viper of vanity” and her joy at his ultimate judgment was delightfully colorful. Or, should you prefer to hear a diatribe against a corrupt lawyer, listen to Mickey Monkeyface McBlear, who bore “a mouth like a moneybox.”

TV Tropes has an article about Ros which attributes a dozen tropes to her pen.

In the Style of: Aldous Huxley noted that Ros wrote in the 16th century style of Euphuism. Susan Sontag decades later stated that Euphuism was the progenitor of camp, which would explain why literary greats found her writing so hilarious.

Those curious about euphuism can read John Lyly’s Euphues: the Anatomy of Wit; Euphues and His England which is filled with delights unnumbered. Originally two volumes, the books were published in the sixteenth century.

C.S. Lewis was a serious enough “fan” of Ros’ writings to share his affection for them with Cambridge Classicist Nan Dunbar. C.S. Lewis scholar Joel Heck has written a worthwhile article about the ongoing friendship between the two professors.

For a detailed study of the literary relationship between Amanda McKittrick Ros and the Inklings, I highly recommend the article by Anita Gorman and Leslie R. Mateer which appeared in Mythlore.

As they describe, even before the Inklings added occasional readings of her work to their gatherings, as early as 1907 there was in Oxford a society devoted to weekly readings of her works. The authors pose, and then proceed to answer, the following question.

What . . . impelled C.S. Lewis and his mates to read aloud Ros’s work? Yes, the improbable plots, silly characters, and nonexistent themes may have played a role, but were those enough to captivate the Inklings and to give rise to Delina Delaney dinners and Amanda Ros societies?

After all, many writers have written improbable plots about improbable people, and these writers have enjoyed short-lived reputations, if any reputations at all. Yet Amanda lives on.

For Those with Stout Constitutions

Mere Inkling offers one final look back at the transcendent poetry of Amanda McKittrick Ros. This infamous selection can be found at the aptly named Pity the Readers: Horribly Excellent Writing website.

“Visiting Westminster Abbey”
(from Fumes of Formation)

Holy Moses! Have a look!
Flesh decayed in every nook!
Some rare bits of brain lie here,
Mortal loads of beef and beer,

Some of whom are turned to dust,
Every one bids lost to lust;
Royal flesh so tinged with ‘blue’
Undergoes the same as you.

These morose words bring to mind another verse, composed in the form of a song by the artists of Monty Python. It appeared on Monty Python’s Contractual Obligation Album as “Decomposing Composers.”

They’re decomposing composers.
There’s nothing much anyone can do.
You can still hear Beethoven,
But Beethoven cannot hear you. . . .

Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds
With their highly original sound.
The pianos they played are still working,
But they’re both six feet underground.

They’re decomposing composers.
There’s less of them every year.
You can say what you like to Debussy,
But there’s not much of him left to hear.

Yes, similarly morbid verse, but offered here to provide a sharp contrast between types of humor. Monty Python is the epitome of Camp, which according to Susan Sontag,

sees everything in quotation marks. It’s not a lamp, but a “lamp;” not a woman, but a “woman.” To perceive Camp in objects and persons is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Role. It is the farthest extension, in sensibility, of the metaphor of life as theater.

Although Sontag notes “one must distinguish between naïve and deliberate Camp,” she argues the “pure examples of Camp are unintentional.” She considers self-conscious efforts, such as Noel Coward (and presumably Monty Python as well) as “usually less satisfying.”

Another perspective offers a helpful dichotomy to distinguish between “intentionality: whether camp deliberately cultivated (‘high’ camp) is the same to that of the unintentional kind (‘low’ camp).”

Personally, I often enjoy high (nonvulgar) camp humor – witty silliness that scoffs at life’s peculiarities. As for unintentional, “low” camp such as we find in Ros, I typically feel a flash of guilt at hurting (even posthumously) the feelings of a writer. Most of us writers are, after all, a sensitive and vulnerable breed.

The enlightening illustrations accompanying this article are from Amanda McKittrick Ros Society Promotional Memes, ably captained by Dan Morgan.

George MacDonald’s Poetry

On By robstroudIn Books, C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Christianity, G.K. Chesterton, Great Authors, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, Poetry, Reading, Words11 Comments

George MacDonald (1824-1905) was a prolific Scot writer. His legacy was amplified due to his influence on G.K. Chesterton and C.S. Lewis. (He was also a friend of Mark Twain.) An essay, originally presented as a speech by G.K. Chesterton, is available online.

Chesterton goes so far as to say, “if to be a great man is to hold the universe in one’s head or heart, Dr. MacDonald is great. No man has carried about with him so naturally heroic an atmosphere.” Listen to his description of that special type of literature that inspired many Inklings, chiefly C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many religious writers have written allegories and fairy tales, which have gone to creating the universal conviction that there is nothing that shows so little spirituality as an allegory, and nothing that contains so little imagination as a fairy tale. But from all these Dr. MacDonald is separated by an abyss of profound originality of intention.

The difference is that the ordinary moral fairy tale is an allegory of real life. Dr. MacDonald’s tales of real life are allegories, or disguised versions, of his fairy tales.

It is not that he dresses up men and movements as knights and dragons, but that he thinks that knights and dragons, really existing in the eternal world, are dressed up here as men and movements.

C.S. Lewis, for his part, praised MacDonald as instrumental in tilling the soil for his eventual conversion to Christianity. He was on the defensive, since the writers which most inspired him shared a common flaw – they were Christians.

All the books were beginning to turn against me. Indeed, I must have been as blind as a bat not to have seen, long before, the ludicrous contradiction between my theory of life and my actual experiences as a reader.

George MacDonald had done more to me than any other writer; of course it was a pity he had that bee in his bonnet about Christianity. He was good in spite of it.

Chesterton had more sense than all the other moderns put together; bating, of course, his Christianity. Johnson was one of the few authors whom I felt I could trust utterly; curiously enough, he had the same kink. Spenser and Milton by a strange coincidence had it too (Surprised by Joy).

Lewis would actually come to edit a selection of MacDonald’s passages for an edifying anthology. This post includes a link for downloading a copy of George MacDonald: An Anthology.

This week I was reading one of MacDonald’s excellent essays, which appears in The Imagination and Other Essays. I intend to discuss some of his thoughts on age and writing soon. Although I am not an aficionado of poetry – despite having composed poetry from time to time, including quintains, I turned to another of MacDonald’s books.

On to His Poetry

I decided to follow up MacDonald’s brilliant essay with a dip into his poetry. Fortunately, Internet Archive allows you to freely download a complete copy of MacDonald’s Scotch Songs and Ballads, published in 1893. My conscience forces me, however, to provide a single caveat. Be forewarned that the tome is not suited for those intimidated by pronounced dialects.

Before looking at one of his poems in its entirety, allow me to share with you a passage from “The Waesome Carl” which I particularly enjoyed (due to its portrait of a preacher). 

The minister wasna fit to pray
And lat alane to preach;
He nowther had the gift o’ grace
Nor yet the gift o’ speech!
He mind’t him o’ Balaäm’s ass,
Wi’ a differ we micht ken:
The Lord he opened the ass’s mou,
The minister opened’s ain!
He was a’ wrang, and a’ wrang,
And a’thegither a’ wrang;
There wasna a man aboot the toon
But was a’thegither a’ wrang!
The puir precentor couldna sing,
He gruntit like a swine . . .

Not that I claim able to decipher it all, but my impression is that it’s not especially flattering. It is definitely entertaining. And I humbly think I interpret it significantly more accurately than Google’s online translator, which provided the following version.

The minister was not fit to pray
And lat alane to preach;
He nowther had the gift o’ grace
Nor yet the gift o’ speech!
He mind’t him o’ Balaam’s ass,
Wi’ a differ we micht ken:
The Lord he opened the ass’s mou,
The minister opened his eyes!
He was a’ wrang, and a’ wrang,
And a’thegither a’wrang;
There was a man aboot the toon
But thegither was wrong!
The puir precentor couldna sing,
He grunted like a swine. . .

Using the Dictionars o the Scots Leid, you can make perfect sense of the words about which you may be uncertain. (Thank you, Scotland.)

Dialects are interesting things indeed. I will close with another of MacDonald’s poems. I submit it for (1) those who comprehend the dialect, (2) those who deem precious their Scottish ancestry, (3) those with an affinity for Connor MacLeod, and (4) those who simply enjoy a challenge.

“Nannie Braw”

I like ye weel upo Sundays, Nannie,
I’ yer goon and yer ribbons and a’;
But I like ye better on Mondays, Nannie,
Whan ye’re no sae buskit and braw.

For whan we’re sittin sae douce, Nannie,
Wi’ the lave o’ the worshippin fowk,
That aneth the haly hoose, Nannie,
Ye micht hear a moudiwarp howk,

It will come into my heid, Nannie,
O’ yer braws ye are thinkin a wee;
No alane o’ the Bible-seed, Nannie,
Nor the minister nor me!

Syne hame athort the green, Nannie,
Ye gang wi’ a toss o’ yer chin;
And there walks a shadow atween ‘s, Nannie,
A dark ane though it be thin!

But noo, whan I see ye gang, Nannie,
Eident at what’s to be dune,
Liltin a haiveless sang, Nannie,
I wud kiss yer verra shune!

Wi’ yer silken net on yer hair, Nannie,
I’ yer bonnie blue petticoat,
Wi’ yer kin’ly arms a’ bare, Nannie,
On yer ilka motion I doat.

For, oh, but ye’re canty and free, Nannie,
Airy o’ hert and o’ fit!
A star-beam glents frae yer ee, Nannie–
O’ yersel ye’re no thinkin a bit!

Fillin the cogue frae the coo, Nannie,
Skimmin the yallow ream,
Pourin awa the het broo, Nannie,
Lichtin the lampie’s leme,

Turnin or steppin alang, Nannie,
Liftin and layin doon,
Settin richt what’s aye gaein wrang, Nannie,
Yer motion’s baith dance and tune!

I’ the hoose ye’re a licht and a law, Nannie,
A servan like him ‘at’s abune:
Oh, a woman’s bonniest o’ a’, Nannie,
Doin what maun be dune!

Cled i’ yer Sunday claes, Nannie,
Fair kythe ye to mony an ee;
But cled i’ yer ilka-day’s, Nannie,
Ye draw the hert frae me!

Addendum:

For those interested in pursuing this linguistic subject, I just came across a delightful 1896 collection of works you can download for free. Legends of the Saints: in the Scottish Dialect of the Fourteenth Century is “edited from the unique manuscript in the University Library, Cambridge.”

The cartoon above comes from Mr. Punch in the Highlands which was published “with 140 illustrations” more than a century ago. You can download your personal copy of humorous work at Internet Archive.

Following C.S. Lewis’ Military Example

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, History, J.R.R. Tolkien, Just War, Military History, Military Musings, Modern Life, The Future17 Comments

Like his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, and many of the British men of their generation, C.S. Lewis served in the grim battlefields of the First World War. (However, since Lewis was actually Irish, he could not be drafted, and instead volunteered to serve.)

In recent years a number of books have appeared related to the military service of the Inklings. In A Hobbit, a Wardrobe, and a Great War, the author introduces his discussion with a succinct summary.

For a generation of men and women, [WWI] brought the end of innocence – and the end of faith. Yet for two extraordinary authors and friends, J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, the Great War deepened their spiritual quest. Both men served as soldiers on the Western Front, survived the trenches, and used the experience of that conflict to shape their Christian imagination. . . .

By the time of the Armistice, more than nine million soldiers lay dead and roughly thirty-seven million wounded. On average, there were about 6,046 men killed every day of the war, a war that lasted 1,566 days. In Great Britain, almost six million men—a quarter of Britain’s adult male population – passed through the ranks of the army. About one in eight perished. Tolkien and Lewis might easily have been among their number.

In 1939, a correspondent inquired if Lewis was going to reassume his commission in the army for the new conflict, and he responded with sentiments I have heard voiced by a number of other combat veterans.

No, I haven’t joined the Territorials. I am too old. It would be hypocrisy to say that I regret this. My memories of the last war haunted my dreams for years.

C.S. Lewis proceeded to graphically explain the cost of serving under such pressure. 

Military service, to be plain, includes the threat of every temporal evil: pain and death which is what we fear from sickness: isolation from those we love which is what we fear from exile: toil under arbitrary masters, injustice and humiliation, which is what we fear from slavery: hunger, thirst, cold and exposure which is what we fear from poverty.

I’m not a pacifist. If it’s got to be, it’s got to be. But the flesh is weak and selfish and I think death would be much better than to live through another war.

A new announcement from the United States’ Department of Defense brought Lewis’ situation to mind. It appears that due to a number of factors – not least of which the emphasis on Diversity, Equity and Inclusion,* which (imo) has discouraged veterans from encouraging their children to serve in the armed forces – some services are repeatedly falling short of their recruiting goals. 

In light of the fact that the world is inarguably growing more dangerous – the Doomsday Clock is set at “90 seconds to midnight” – it is alarming that we are unable to fully staff our shrunken military.

Just today my sixteen year old grandson expressed concerns about the resumption of a draft. I could not muster a persuasive argument that it won’t happen. Ironically, the last time the U.S. involuntarily conscripted troops was 1972, the year I turned eighteen. Oh, in the process of including a link to the Selective Service Sytem, I was surprised to learn that a “Medical Draft is in Standby Mode.” 

It is designed to be implemented in connection with a national mobilization in an emergency, and then only if Congress and the President approve the plan and pass and sign legislation to enact it. . . .

[The plan will] provide a fair and equitable draft of doctors, nurses, medical technicians and those with certain other health care skills if, in some future emergency, the military’s existing medical capability proved insufficient and there is a shortage of volunteers. . . .

[If implemented, the plan will] begin a mass registration of male and female health care workers between the ages of 20 and 45. . . . HCPDS [the innocuously named Health Care Personnel Delivery System] would provide medical personnel from a pool of 3.4 million doctors, nurses, specialists and allied health professionals in more than 60 fields of medicine.

No Draft Yet

Since we are not currently at war, the specter of a draft remains ephemeral. Still, the shortage of volunteers has led to a variety of initiatives, such as lowering service qualification standards. These efforts have proven inadequate, resulting in the aforementioned announcement.

Both the Army and the Air Force have begun Retiree Recalls. Yes, that is just what it sounds like. People who have actually retired from the armed forces, normally after 20+ years of active duty, are being recalled to serve again. 

When I heard this news I was stunned. It is legally possible for the military to recall former members via a tiered process, but the first thing that came to my mind was my favorite high school teacher. He had served in Viet Nam as a draftee and finished his enlistment. He once told me that he felt safe, having survived, because now he was in the same call-up status as a “pregnant nun.” (Rather hyperbolic, but comforting to him.)

Fortunately, the current recalls are all voluntary. Only retirees whose personal circumstances make the offer appealing, will respond. As the Air Force Times reports, “Regret retiring? Here’s your shot at a second chance in the Air Force.”

I suspect that even vets who enjoyed their military service will be inclined to consider redonning the uniform as “too much of a good thing.” And if they witnessed the bloody horrors of war, as seen by C.S. Lewis, returning to the ranks would be even less tempting.

Since I, myself, have no desire to resume the demands of military life, I haven’t researched the age requirements for the Air Force recall program. Like Lewis, “I am too old.” 

But amazingly, depending on individual factors, the Army is willing to recall retired volunteers up to the age of seventy. That’s not a typo. As someone reaching that very milestone this summer, I can’t imagine returning to work side-by-side with troops half a century younger than me. 

Now, I pray for peace, knowing that being prepared for war is one way to increase that likelihood. So, I hope the military can throw off some of its political shackles and return to its necessary focus.

Furthermore, like C.S. Lewis, I have a pragmatic view of the effects of war. In “Learning in War-Time,” Lewis summarized the effects of military service during a war. As always, his insights are profound.

What does war do to death? It certainly does not make it more frequent: 100 per cent of us die, and the percentage cannot be increased. . . . Does it increase our chances of painful death? I doubt it. . . .

Does it decrease our chances of dying at peace with God? I cannot believe it. If active service does not persuade a man to prepare for death, what conceivable concatenation of circumstances would?

* This reference is to the convoluted and inequitable DEI philosophy and program(s) being mandated today. In truth, most people value diversity, and all people of goodwill believe in the importance of equity and inclusion. Along with Martin Luther King, Jr., they long for a day when people are not “judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”

Books Enjoyed by C.S. Lewis

On By robstroudIn Books, C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Classics Worth Revisiting, Great Authors, Great Authors, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, Reading, Writing17 Comments

Reading is not only one of life’s pleasures, the content and ethos of what we read, subtly influences the shape of our very lives.

C.S. Lewis loved books with genuine passion. While many people only perceive books as compilations of information or as sources of fleeting entertainment, he knew them as far more. Only someone sharing Lewis’ affection and wisdom will identify with the following passage from his essay “An Experiment in Criticism.”

The man who is contented to be only himself, and therefore less a self, is in prison. My own eyes are not enough for me, I will see through those of others. Reality, even seen through the eyes of many, is not enough. I will see what others have invented. . . .

Literary experience heals the wound, without undermining the privilege, of individuality. There are mass emotions which heal the wound; but they destroy the privilege. In them our separate selves are pooled and we sink back into sub-individuality.

But in reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself. Like the night sky in the Greek poem, I see with a myriad eyes, but it is still I who see. Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing, I transcend myself; and am never more myself than when I do.

Lewis scholar and emeritus professor of English, Dale J. Nelson, has been providing a wonderful service in recent years as he explores the books which found a place in C.S. Lewis’ personal library. “Jack and the Bookshelf” is a continuing series which appears in CSL, journal of the New York C.S. Lewis Society. Founded in 1969, the organization “is the oldest society for the ​appreciation and discussion of C.S. Lewis in the world.”

Nelson’s task of editorially archiving C.S. Lewis’ library is complemented by the work of our mutual friend, Dr. Brenton Dickieson. In a “comment” praising Dickieson’s compilation of “C.S. Lewis’ Teenage Bookshelf,” Nelson offers a commendation with which I fully concur.

Thank you for assembling that list of books . . . I’d encourage Lewis’s admirers to take their appreciation of CSL to the next step and delve into the things he liked to read throughout his life.

Nelson’s contribution to the December 2023 issue is the fifty-ninth in his series, and discusses a fantasy work titled The Worm Ouroboros by E.R. Eddison. Eddison (1882-1945) was a Norse scholar, and his fascination with mountains combined with that, to resonate with Lewis’ passion for northernness.

Dr. Nelson, who has added an array of science fiction to his own academic work, possesses superb credentials for exploring the connection between Lewis and Eddison. 

Nelson relates that, at C.S. Lewis’ invitation, Eddison attended two gatherings of the Inklings. At the second, Eddison – who relished critiques of his works in progress, as do many serious writers – read from a project which would not be published due to his death the following year.

Eddison’s themes more closely resembled J.R.R. Tolkien’s than Lewis’ own. In Nelson’s words, both “Tolkien and Eddison wrote masterpieces of heroic fantasy whose values differed markedly.” 

Another distinction is that while Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings has maintained its mythic rigor, Eddison’s oeuvre feels rather anchored to the formative years of the genre, prior to the so-called Golden Age of science fiction (and fantasy).

If you would like to read this book, which was enjoyed by both Lewis and Tolkien, you can download a copy of it at Internet Archive. If you enjoy dwarves, goblins, manticores and hippogriffs, you are unlikely to be disappointed.

C.S. Lewis as a Weaver of Words

On By robstroudIn C.S. Lewis, Education, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, Words, Writing14 Comments

If you like to expand your vocabulary while opening up your mind with profound insights, search no farther than C.S. Lewis.

The celebrated Oxbridge professor possessed a great respect for words. Like his friend J.R.R. Tolkien, he believed they should never be summarily detached from the history which imbues them with meaning. In “Studies in Words,” he describes the poverty of such an approach.

I am sometimes told that there are people who want a study of literature wholly free from philology; that is, from the love and knowledge of words. Perhaps no such people exist. If they do, they are either crying for the moon or else resolving on a lifetime of persistent and carefully guarded delusion.

If we read an old poem with insufficient regard for change in the overtones, and even the dictionary meanings, of words since its date – if, in fact, we are content with whatever effect the words accidentally produce in our modern minds – then of course we do not read the poem the old writer intended. What we get may still be, in our opinion, a poem; but it will be our poem, not his. If we call this tout court [too short or shallow] “reading” the old poet, we are deceiving ourselves. If we reject as “mere philology” every attempt to restore for us his real poem, we are safeguarding the deceit.

Of course any man is entitled to say he prefers the poems he makes for himself out of his mistranslations to the poems the writers intended. I have no quarrel with him. He need have none with me. Each to his taste.

If you too are a logophile, a lover of words, there’s no need to hide it. Well, with a single exception. Like everyone else, I find it off-putting when I run into people who learn complex new words simply with the goal of using them in order to “impress” others.

It amazes me how some individuals who consider themselves quite intelligent, and wish to advertise their brilliance, fail to comprehend that ostentatious speech elicits the opposite impression. [Don’t mistake my writing style where I intentionally use the fullest range of our shared vocabulary – which I believe enriches our reading and minds – with the vanity I’m describing. The latter insults readers when self-important posers attempt to intimidate others with words that are unlikely to be known by their audience.]

If you would like to read a satirical piece I wrote ridiculing this tactic, you can download “Mastering Inkling Erudition” at academia.edu. It appeared in CSL, published by the New York C.S. Lewis Society and is subtitled “Sounding Like an Expert Without Accumulating Multiple Ph.D.s.”

C.S. Lewis, of course, possessed no such pretentions. At least none I am aware of after his conversion to Christianity. His use of language is rich and satisfying. It is also instructive. I’ve lost count of the number of words to which Lewis introduced me. 

One of my favorites, though I have never dared to use it, is “bathetic.” Upon reading this note from Merriam-Webster, I suspect you too may find it applicable to much that passes for contemporary literature.

When English speakers turned apathy into apathetic in the late 17th century, using the suffix -etic to turn the noun into the adjective, they were inspired by pathetic, the adjectival form of pathos, from Greek pathētikos.

People also applied that bit of linguistic transformation to coin bathetic. English speakers added the suffix -etic to bathos, the Greek word for “depth,” which in English has come to mean “triteness” or “excessive sentimentalism.” The result: the ideal adjective for the incredibly commonplace or the overly sentimental.

The word appears in The Abolition of Man, in which C.S. Lewis critiques the poor practices of some current authors of educational resources. I will italicize the specific text, but provide the full context because of its own merits.

[They] quote a silly advertisement of a pleasure cruise and proceed to inoculate their pupils against the sort of writing it exhibits. The advertisement tells us that those who buy tickets for this cruise will go ‘across the Western Ocean where Drake of Devon sailed,’ ‘adventuring after the treasures of the Indies,’ and bringing home themselves also a ‘treasure’ of ‘golden hours’ and ‘glowing colours.’

It is a bad bit of writing, of course: a venal and bathetic exploitation of those emotions of awe and pleasure which men feel in visiting places that have striking associations with history or legend. If [they] were to stick to their last and teach their readers (as they promised to do) the art of English composition, it was their business to put this advertisement side by side with passages from great writers in which the very emotion is well expressed, and then show where the difference lies.

They might have used Johnson’s famous passage from the Western Islands, which concludes: ‘That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona.’ They might have taken that place in The Prelude where Wordsworth describes how the antiquity of London first descended on his mind with ‘Weight and power, Power growing under weight.’

A lesson which had laid such literature beside the advertisement and really discriminated the good from the bad would have been a lesson worth teaching. There would have been some blood and sap in it – the trees of knowledge and of life growing together. It would also have had the merit of being a lesson in literature . . .

And a Double Bonus: A New Word & a Psychological Disorder

A newly forged word is referred to as a neologism, and they can be fascinating. Modern technology has caused their number to explode. Some –  think “crowdsourcing” or “app” – are now ubiquitous.

Word lovers sometimes invent words. These, of course, rarely if ever find their way into public discourse. Take this example from a letter a young C.S. Lewis penned to his friend Arthur Greeves in 1916.

I know quite well that feeling of something strange and wonderful that ought to happen, and wish I could think like you that this hope will someday be fulfilled. . . . Perhaps indeed the chance of a change into some world of Terreauty (a word I’ve coined to mean terror and beauty) is in reality in some allegorical way daily offered to us if we had the courage to take it.

One final caution. If you do decide to become a neologist, run your ideas by people you trust. I just discovered the American Psychological Association has linked one expression of the practice to serious mental disorders!

neologism (updated on 04/19/2018)
n. a newly coined word or expression. In a neurological or psychopathological context, neologisms, whose origins and meanings are usually nonsensical and unrecognizable (e.g., klipno for watch), are typically associated with aphasia or schizophrenia. – neologistic adj.

Improve Your Writing with a Brevity Exercise

On By robstroudIn Advice to Writers, C.S. Lewis, Great Authors, History, J.R.R. Tolkien, Literature, My Writing Projects, Narnia, Roman History, The Bible, Writing21 Comments

While we are unlikely to become another J.R.R. Tolkien or C.S. Lewis, it is quite possible to improve our literary skills.

There are numerous ways to strengthen our writing. One of my favorites is to “stretch” my abilities by engaging in exercises that push me far beyond my nonfiction comfort zone. More on the details in a moment.

C.S. Lewis prized brevity and clarity. Most readers do. I’ve written about this in “C.S. Lewis on brevity.” Before that, I had discussed brevity as a factor of “clear communication,” while focusing on the value of common semantics to avoid confusion.

I encourage you to read “In Defense of the Fairy Tale: C.S. Lewis’s Argument for the Value and Importance of the Fairy Tale.” The author cites Lewis’ reason for choosing the fairy tale as his genre for Narnia.

[Lewis] describes the invention process for the Chronicles of Narnia as first coming in mental images, “a faun carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sledge, a magnificent lion.” Next came the selection of a form in which to tell the story, one absent of a love interest or close psychology.

The form excluding these was the fairy tale. Lewis tells us that he fell in love with the form itself, “its brevity, its severe restraints on description, its flexible traditionalism, its inflexible hostility to all analysis, digression, reflections and ‘gas’” and the very limitations of the vocabulary.

He concludes, “I wrote fairy tales because the Fairy Tale seemed the ideal Form for the stuff I had to say,” not unlike the stone selected by the sculptor or the sonnet by the poet.

While I share the passage above at some length, my focus here is on Lewis’ observation that fairy tales are inherently “brief.” The fairy tale was, indeed, the “ideal Form” for C.S. Lewis’ classic stories from Narnia.

Even Briefer Genres

As a brevity-challenged individual (common for pastors), I like writing exercises able to make a dent in my innate verbosity. And what shorter option might one explore than a genre limited to a half dozen words?

Before embarking on my current challenge, let me give you a bit of background on the Six Word Story.

As Mark Twain famously wrote, “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a longer one instead.” Intense Minimalism provides similar inspiration from other earlier writers.

“Not that the story need be long, but it will take a long while to make it short.”
Henry David Thoreau,
“It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book.”
Friedrich Nietzsche
“If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.”
Marcus Tullius Cicero (a predecessor of Samuel Clemens)
And back again to Mark Twain:
“If you want me to give you a two-hour presentation, I am ready today.  If you want only a five-minute speech, it will take me two weeks to prepare.”

C.S. Lewis was capable of writing long personal tomes to family and intimate friends. His correspondence with casual friends – such as Americans who sometimes sent food gifts during Britain’s post-WWII rationing – tended to be warm, but short. This was particularly true when his brother Warnie was not available to assist with his correspondence, as the following letters attest.

20th. January 1948
Dear Mr. Howard, This is really very handsome of you, and you could hardly have sent a more welcome gift. I have only to call your attention to the so-called ‘Superfine’ paper on which I am replying to give you some idea of the luxury of writing on a decent paper at last. But I’m afraid there is something which even American generosity cannot supply me with: an article called TIME, which was the cause of my previous letter! (its brevity I mean)

25th August 1949
Dear Dr. Allen Yet once again hearty thanks for a fine parcel which has arrived in excellent condition to-day. I don’t know how we should get on without you. My brother who drives the typewriter is away and my hand is nearly dropping off from letter writing, so you’ll forgive brevity – and the horrible scrawl! I’m none the less grateful inside!

Six Word Stories were popularized in the United States through association with Ernest Hemingway. However, it is an urban legend to credit him with this poignant example: “For sale, Baby shoes, Never worn.”

MasterClass offers a helpful lesson at “How to Write an Unforgettable Six-Word Story.” They actually suggest that you can drop a few of these into your writing day to renew your energy.  

Like other forms of short stories or flash fiction, a six-word story allows a reader to consume an entire narrative in just a moment’s time. If you’re trying to get in some short, but challenging, bursts of writing practice throughout your day, try writing six-word stories. These bite-sized narratives are fast and fun.

As for telling any sort of satisfying “story” in six words, it’s a bit of an hyperbole. However, that hasn’t stopped a number of people from making a literal career of promoting the genre. At the forefront of the movement is Six Word Memoirs.

Christians have likewise joined the club. For example, Six-Word Lessons to Discover Missional Living: 100 Lessons to Align Every Believer with the Mission of Jesus is volume  forty-three in “The Six-Word Lessons Series.”

Prior to learning about these companies, I thought it be fun to suggest that one you compose Six Words about the Christian Life. Still, since an idea can’t be copyrighted, you’re still free to market your own works in this genre.

Some of My Modest “Attempts”

One subgenre of Six Word Stories is Six Word Biographies. One website applies this to biblical personages. Among them:

Mary
“Behold the handmaid of the Lord.”
Esther
“For such a time as this.”

To which I dare to add: 

Jephthah (Judges 11-12)
“Rash vows bring about terrible tragedies.”
Jehosheba (Exodus 1-2)
“Moses’ mother, eclipsed by her daughter.”
Abednego (Daniel 1-3)
“I survived the fiery furnace too.”

Now, allow me to apply the technique to several other people. 

Jeanne d’Arc
“Heroic innocent, visionary warrior, martyred saint.”

Walt Disney
“Gifted Kingdom maker, buried, rolling over”

Grigori Rasputin
“Poisoned, shot, drowned, and ultimately, damned.”

George Washington
“Soldier, statesman, who shunned the throne.”

Bozo
“Dated humor, creepy antics, Krusty cosmetics.”

And, I close now with my personal favorite.

Larry Norman
“He was only visiting this planet.”

A half century hasn’t diminished the power of Norman’s message. (The titular lyrics are in the “Reader’s Digest” track on the record linked here.)

Fonts that Can Make Your Literary Dreams Come True

On By robstroudIn Advice to Writers, C.S. Lewis, Education, Fonts, Humor, J.R.R. Tolkien, Middle Earth, Modern Life, Reading, Writing16 Comments

Would you be interested in owning a copy of an attractive new font called Middle Earth? If so, read on and you’ll find a link to download this typeface created by Swedish designer Måns Grebäck.

When it comes to fonts, there are basically two types of people – those who pay no attention to them as they read, and others who notice the nuances between similar fonts and are fascinated by extraordinary examples.

Longtime readers of Mere Inkling know I am in the latter category. Every year or two I actually write on the subject. I’ve discussed monastic fonts, legal fonts, trustworthy fonts, uninhibited fonts, a dyslexia font, a memory-enhancing font, fonts based on the handwriting of historical figures, and being a fontaholic.

The reason for my current interest in fonts is due to Microsoft’s decision to jettison Calibri as their default font for Office products. They needed to make room for its replacement, Aptos. Seriously, when you view the two sans serif* fonts, side-by-side, you may be surprised at how little they differ.

To make matters even more confusing, CNBC describes a curious aspect of Aptos saga.

Aptos will remain available in the font list under the old Bierstadt name for people who are accustomed to it. Users can also choose to set any other font as the default.

Apple’s mac computers also allow users to choose their own defaults. One typography community discusses this selection opportunity, even as they bemoan the fact that in many programs, the standard installations include suboptimal fonts.

Unfortunately, many of us work on computers where we have no control over what fonts are loaded onto the machine, so we have created a list of the top 10 most common system fonts everyone should know and how to handle them.

This website offers a brief description and history of ten of the most common fonts we typically encounter. For example:

Times New Roman is a serif typeface designed by Stanley Morison and Victor Lardent in 1931. It was commissioned by the British newspaper The Times, which wanted a new typeface to replace its existing font, Times Old Roman.

And I love their estimation of Comic Sans, one of my wife’s favorite fonts, which I avoid like the proverbial plague. (Delores is a young at heart special education teacher, and I’m more of a Lewisian dinosaur.) 

Do use: if you are designing a comic for 6-year-olds.
Don’t use: if you want to be taken seriously by work colleagues.

Another pastor, who learned this lesson the hard way, shared his advice with the warning: “pastors don’t let your bulletins print out in Comic Sans!”

Apparently, his astute wife preserved his professional reputation by telling him to (1) avoid using a “smorgasbord of fonts” in a single document, and (2) “resist the temptation to print serious things in less than serious fonts.”

Advice for Writers

While authors have little control over the fonts in which their work is published by commercial publishers, they do have freedom to choose the typeface they use for the actual composition. “How To Choose the Best Font for Your Writing” addresses that latitude in the following way.

Do you have a favorite font? Are you dedicated to Times New Roman, or are you more of an “anything-but-Wingdings” kind of writer? Maybe you haven’t given your choice of font much thought.

Quite simply, as research shows, texts that look good make you feel good while interacting with them. This is why it’s so important to choose a font that not only is easy to read, optimizes line length, and has the right mood, but also is one that you like!

MasterClass describes the various aspects of each font that will contribute to your overall impression of each font. In “Typography for Writers: How to Pick the Best Type for Writing,” they explain the significance of bowls, ascenders, spines, counters, and more.

Typographers and type designers have their own universe of special terms, each of which refers to a specific part of a given letter. Understanding these basic elements of typography can help you decide precisely what typographic style you want to employ to grab your reader’s attention.

InDesignSkills goes so far as to match a number of typefaces to specific genres, saying “we judged the legibility, beauty, simplicity and variety of weights available of a huge range of fonts, and whittled them down to these faithful five.” They even offer an ironclad promise, proclaiming their selection will “never let your typesetting down, guaranteed.”

Obviously, personal tastes play a large role in appreciating or disapproving of various fonts. One author describes how the quest for the perfect font is integral to writers’ creativity.

Let’s talk about one of our favourite writing avoidance devices: picking the right font for your manuscript.

“The Best and Worst Fonts (and why they’re good or bad),” describes the bond a writer can develop with their typographic fancies.

Fonts are one of the most important design choices to make when developing your brand identity. The best fonts leave you feeling like you’ve made an instant friend while the worst fonts are like a stranger who won’t leave you alone.

The writer offers her personal preferences (and prejudices). I don’t agree with all of her judgments, but I am forced to concur with her inclusion of Jokerman and Bleeding Cowboys on the list of “worst fonts.” And I am pretty sure that C.S. Lewis would agree.

Write in the Spirit of Middle Earth

If you have read this far, your reward is to receive the download link for Middle Earth. 

As noted aboved, Måns Grebäck is a prolific Swedish typographer. He makes many of his creations freely available to individuals for non-commercial use. (Commercial licenses are available as well.) The independent FontSpace describes it thusly:

With the historic charm of ancient manuscripts and the ethereal beauty of elven realms, Middle Earth typeface weaves tales of valor and legends. Its calligraphic allure is accentuated by rounded contours, reminiscent of Tolkien’s enchanted worlds.

Middle Earth truly is ethereally elegant. Enjoy.

* Sans serif fonts are those without serifs, which are the tiny lines or marks that appear at the end of a character’s stroke. Arial would be a common sans serif font, while Times New Roman is a familiar serif font.

Mickey Mouse Is Now Ours

On By robstroudIn Advice to Writers, Animals, C.S. Lewis, C.S. Lewis & the Inklings, Films, J.R.R. Tolkien, Narnia, Writing13 Comments

He’s no Reepicheep, but the earliest iteration of Mickey Mouse just became public property!

One of the little-heralded New Year’s Day events was the entry of the Steamboat Willie version of Mickey into public domain. Now anyone who desires can use the image without infringing on Disney’s copyrights.

Actually, my headline is not 100% accurate. As I just noted, it’s the earliest version of the most famous mouse in the world. However, the rodent’s name, and his subsequent graphic version remains protected. That’s because while copyrights eventually expire, trademarks don’t.

Therefore, as reported in Fortune magazine, “current artists and creators will be able to make use of Mickey, but with major limits. It is only the more mischievous, rat-like, non-speaking boat captain in ‘Steamboat Willie’ that has become public.”

The 1928 poster advertising Mickey’s cinematic debut comes from a great article at Animation Scoop. Without comparing measurements of Mickey’s initial and contemporary snouts, it doesn’t appear to me the public domain version is that much more “rat-like.”

As for differences between the two . . . well, I’m not an attorney, but it appears Mickey’s onscreen persona in 1928 wasn’t wearing his standard white gloves. The poster, nevertheless, shows a Mickey closely resembling the cartoon mouse who was part of many of our childhoods. As noted in the Fortune piece:

Not every feature or personality trait a character displays is necessarily copyrightable, however, and courts could be busy in the coming years determining what’s inside and outside Disney’s ownership.

My question, and perhaps one of you intelligent readers can answer this, is about the image’s “name.” His full name, with his surname “Mouse,” is undebatably trademarked. Can a person legally use the name “Mickey” with the 1928 likeness? My guess is that the first name is not restricted, no matter how much Disney protests.

Speaking of Disney, a company which has become a disappointment in recent years, the Inklings were not big fans. If you are interested in learning more about the Inklings’ opinion about Disney Studios, check out author Jim Denney’s “What C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien Thought of Walt Disney.”

After identifying a number of parallels in their lives, he explores the irony that “you might think that, with all that C.S. Lewis and Walt Disney had in common, they might have been mutual admirers—but that was not the case.”

And, there is always another option. As Britannica reminds us, Mickey wasn’t even his original name. Walt’s first choice (vetoed by his wife) was “Mortimer.”

That’s it for today. Now I’m off to write a book about Mickey’s alliance with Reepicheep. Oh wait, Reepicheep won’t be in the public domain until after I’m enjoying heaven with my Lord, and with the Christian members of the Inklings.

And, even if one could pair the two up for an adventure, they wouldn’t prove compatible. The reason should be obvious, but for an enjoyable exploration of that subject, I commend to you, “Reepicheep and Mickey.”