J.R.R. Tolkien’s books provided inestimable foundations for my later acceptance of all that the Catholic Church taught and that in conjunction with its most powerful conveyer of doctrine, sacred liturgical worship. In fact, at the behest of a wise grandmother, who saw I was really into this author, suggested that I write to him. I did. He wrote back. I wrote again, his letter arrived after he died. There is a line in it that people were waiting in the car for him and he had to be brief, for they were going “on holiday”. He died that night. Maybe… the last thing he wrote?
Still in my teens, a close friend and I, also formed by JRRT in many ways – the story of how we found each other in that metropolis is worthy – took a trip together to Milwaukee, specifically to Marquette University. Little did I know of the spiritual peril we were going into, like… into Jesuit Mordor. The Professor’s papers, manuscripts and original artwork of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are there. Yes, you read that right. We spent a couple of days in there, reading and copying and being amazed.
One of the things we read was the unpublished epilogue “ending” of the Lord of the Rings which didn’t make it. Tolkien’s choice to end it. My friend and I knew about this in … 1975?
It was a beautiful piece about Sam, 14 years of married life after the departure of Frodo to the Undying Lands. Sam was working on the Red Book. He has a conversation with his daughter and wife. At the end, Sam is outside and hears the call of the sea.
I remember how the two of us sat there and took this in, surrounded by the boxes that had that papers and drawings. It was awesome. We, as everyone in those days, was hungry for more about… everything and everyone, about the Silmarillion about… anything. And here was the call of the sea to Sam, who had been a Ringbearer.
It was a formative moment in my life, shared with one of the bestest of friends, and that’s no mistake.
Okay… the video which brought this up.
