One of the most impressive elements of the fiction of J.R.R. Tolkien is its depth. One walks upon the fields of Middle-earth with the awareness that you are treading ancient paths. Indications that this world was in existence long before you discovered it are everywhere: ruined watchtowers of fallen realms, tombs of bygone kings, snippets of ancient song, broken remnants of former glory. The Lord of the Rings tells only a small part of the history of Tolkien’s world, which is then in its Third Age. The full magnificence of his achievement becomes apparent when you realize that he actually wrote the history (with staggering verisimilitude) that lies behind those stories, created the languages, composed the songs and poetry, and charted the lineage of the characters back into the depths of his invented time.

Yet Tolkien’s world is vibrantly alive. As deep roots survive the frost, so Middle-earth continues to flower even after the first blooms have fallen. It is a world that moves forward without losing its past. Part of the reason this is so is the presence of characters whose memory stretches back across the ages, Galadriel among them. Beauty, majesty, and power are the lingering impressions of the relatively brief encounter with her in The Lord of the Rings; yet her full story is only there to be gathered in hints.  As we learn from Tolkien’s other works, she is the last remaining in Middle-earth of the great among the High Elves who first awoke in Elvenhome across the sea; and her life has been marked by pride and disobedience.

Rebellion and Exile

Ilúvatar, the One, created first angelic beings, who participated in shaping the universe through cosmic song. Some of these angels took special interest in Arda (Earth). They became the Valar, the Powers of the World, who struggled within its confines against the rebel Melkor, who sought to mar creation and bend it his own will. The Valar withdrew into the West, and Melkor worked his will in Middle-earth. But the Children of Ilúvatar, Elves and Men, would awaken there. For their sake, the Valar made war upon Melkor, imprisoning him. They bid the Elves return with them to the Blessed Realm. But the wickedness of Melkor endured. Released from his captivity, he practiced deceit to break the bond between the Valar and the Elves. Murder was done, and Melkor fled to Middle-earth bearing the stolen Silmarils, jewels that contained the light of Valinor. Some among the Elves were determined to pursue him in vengeance, though the Valar counseled against it. Rebellion was raised, the blood of kin was shed, and a Doom was pronounced upon the disobedient. Though she was unstained by evil deeds, Galadriel came to Middle-earth in this exodus.

Their fellowship sundered, the Elves struggled not only with their enemy, now called Morgoth, but also with each other. They once again raised kingdoms of splendor, though they were embattled and wounded by much sorrow. The might of Morgoth threatened finally to destroy the Children of Ilúvatar. Once again, the Valar girded themselves for battle. They came in wrath to Middle-earth, overthrew Morgoth, and cast him into the Void. The Doom having run its course, pardon and offer of return to the West was extended to those who had rebelled so long ago. But not all departed.

Galadriel is one of those who stayed. Of Tolkien’s references to this event in his letters one suggests that she was barred from both pardon and return: “The Exiles were allowed to return-save for a few chief actors in the rebellion of whom at the time of the L.R. only Galadriel remained” (Letters 297); but the other finds the cause in her pride and continued disobedience: “At the end of the First Age she proudly refused forgiveness or permission to return” (Letter 320).

Renewed Obedience and Return

Despite its origins, Galadriel’s presence in Middle-earth is wholesome. As one of ancient lineage, guardian of Lothlórien, and bearer of one of the Three Rings of Power given to the Elves, she is a preserver of goodness and beauty in the troubled world, a strong tower against encroaching darkness. At the time of The Lord of the Rings, Morgoth’s disciple, Sauron, threatens to bring all under his dominion, prompting the free peoples to attempt to destroy the foundation of his power, the One Ring, now carried by the unlikeliest of heroes, a hobbit from the Shire.

Galadriel will now face her greatest test as Frodo, overwhelmed by her grace and wisdom, offers her the Ring.  “I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired to ask what you offer,” she says. “For many long years I had pondered what I might do, should the Great Ring come into my hands, and behold! it was brought within my grasp.” Here was the weapon with which she could blot evil from the earth! She appears to succumb for a moment to “the essential deceit of the Ring to fill minds with imaginations of supreme power,” but in reality her “rejection of the temptation was founded upon previous thought and resolve” (Letter 246). She knows that victory does not lie upon that path; she will wait upon power and wisdom greater than her own. She abandons her pride: “‘I pass the test,’ she said. ‘I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.’” Tolkien writes that she “was pardoned because of her resistance to the final and overwhelming temptation to take the Ring for herself” (Letter 320). The last we see of her is when she boards a ship at the Grey Havens to return to the Blessed Lands, her long exile at an end.

The Moral Applicability of Galadriel  

Few of Tolkien’s authorial sentiments are as well-known as his pronouncements against allegory. Indeed, he repeatedly expressed his dislike for formal allegory in part because his work was so often read as such by early reviewers who were tempted to see Sauron as Hitler or Stalin and the Ring as a lament of the advent of atomic weaponry. But these declarations do not remove all connection between Tolkien’s fictional world and our own: “That there is no allegory,” he continued, “does not, of course, say there is no applicability. There always is” (Letter 202).

The devoutness of Tolkien’s faith and intention that his work be “consonant with Christian thought and belief” (Letter 268) have naturally led to strong theological associations. Many have compared the image of Galadriel to that of the Virgin Mary. Yet Tolkien always remained aloof from too-strong an association between the two figures. Responding by letter to such a suggestion, he acknowledged an influence, but made it clear that the details do not correspond: “I was particularly interested in your remarks about Galadriel…..I think it is true that I owe much of this character to Christian and Catholic teaching and imagination about Mary, but actually Galadriel was a penitent: in her youth a leader of the rebellion against the Valar (the angelic guardians)” (Letter 320). This disobedience is in stark contrast to the obedience of Mary: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). Yet both examples are morally applicable to our own lives. Do we submit to God’s will with a quiet heart, or do we, in our pride, prefer our own way?

Tolkien’s world is undeniably a moral world. It is, like ours, one in which rebellion has disfigured creation and a call to repentance and return to obedience has been sounded. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 4:17). What will be our answer?

Works Quoted and Referenced

The Gospel of Luke

The Gospel of Matthew

The Silmarillion: The Myths and Legends of Middle-Earth, edited by Christopher Tolkien

The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Humphrey Carpenter

The Lord of the Rings