What is a woman? The question asked by Matt Walsh in a recent documentary for The Daily Wire follows naturally from the thematic question in my preceding post, What is a man? Contrary to popular opinion, and unlike the portrayals of his works in many film adaptations including those by Peter Jackson and the recent Rings of Power series and The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim animation, Tolkien had a great love for women according to their proper femininity. He was neither feminist nor misogynist – for him, a woman is good as a woman, not only if she tries to impersonate a man. This deep appreciation for what has been called the “feminine genius” in women is reflected in his nonfiction writings and private correspondence as well as his works of fiction.
The greatest female influence in Tolkien’s life, despite passing away from diabetes when he was only twelve, was his mother Mabel, who raised him and his brother Hilary largely on her own after her husband’s untimely death and passed the Faith onto them following her conversion to Catholicism. The example she gave to her sons as she endured the persecution of her anti-Catholic relatives, finally succumbing, as Tolkien recalls, to “the heroic sufferings and early death in extreme poverty of my mother who brought me into the Church… worn out with persecution, poverty, and largely consequent, disease, in the effort to hand on to us small boys the Faith,”[1] inspired Tolkien for the rest of his life:
My own dear mother was a martyr indeed, and it is not to everybody that God grants so easy a way to his great gifts as he did to Hilary and myself, giving us a mother who killed herself with labour and trouble to ensure us keeping the faith.[2]
He also learned from a young age to respect the intellectual capacity of women: “it is to my mother who taught me (until I obtained a scholarship at the ancient Grammar School in Birmingham) that I owe my tastes for philology, especially of Germanic languages, and for romance.”[3] Before even entering school, she instilled in him a lifelong love of botany, taught him to read by age four, and instructed him in Latin, French and German. Tolkien would continue this advancement of women’s education by tutoring many female students while an Oxford professor and encouraging his daughter Priscilla’s learning, in imitation of one of his favorite saints, St. Thomas More, who did the same for his own daughters.
Even more well-known is Tolkien’s devotion to his beloved wife Edith, to whom he remained faithful from the first time he met her until her death, passing away only a short time afterwards himself. C.S. Lewis once described Tolkien as “the most married man I know”[4] for the great comfort he took in being a husband and father. Despite their occasional tensions, Tolkien cared for Edith throughout all her illnesses and always provided for her needs as a good man should. For this reason, she became the primary inspiration for the greatest Elf-woman in Tolkien’s legendarium, Lúthien, whose name was written on her tombstone alongside Tolkien’s inscription as Beren.
While these female influences in Tolkien’s life, and many others unmentioned here (including authors such as Mary Renault and Dorothy Sayers whose work he admired, and Queen Elizabeth II, to whom he considered dedicating The Lord of the Rings), were very important to him, the most important woman in his life was the greatest of all women and the mother of all Christians: the Blessed Virgin Mary. As he explained, in answer to his friend, Fr. Robert Murray, SJ, who saw Galadriel as a typological figure of Mary:
I think I know exactly what you mean by the order of Grace; and of course by your references to Our Lady, upon which all my own small perception of beauty both in majesty and simplicity is founded.[5]
Tolkien also agreed with the opinion of a critic who “asserted that the invocations of Elbereth, and the character of Galadriel as directly described (or through the words of Gimli and Sam) were clearly related to Catholic devotion to Mary.”[6] In relation to the Assumption of Mary, he added this observation which clearly shows his profound Marian devotion:
Her destiny (in which she had cooperated) was far higher than that of any ‘Man’ would have been, had the Fall not occurred. It was also unthinkable that her body, the immediate source of Our Lord’s (without other physical intermediary) should have been disintegrated, or ‘corrupted’, nor could it surely be long separated from Him after the Ascension.[7]
Tolkien did not idolize women, however. He understood that women, no less than men, are fallen, their intellects darkened and flesh stricken with concupiscence by original sin, because of which, as Tolkien explained, “there is no consonance between our bodies, minds, and souls.” He thus warned his son Michael against the false idolization of women by the chivalrous medieval tradition of courtly romance which, on the one hand, had inspired “much of that beautiful devotion to Our Lady that has been God’s way of refining so much our gross manly natures and emotions,” but on the other hand also had the tendency to mislead young men, replacing God with their lover as the idol of the Lady: “The woman is another fallen human-being with a soul in peril... [Chivalrous romance] takes, or at any rate has in the past taken, the young man’s eye off women as they are, as companions in shipwreck not guiding stars.”[8]
Men and women share a single human nature, in which their dignity and spiritual capacities are equal, but they participate in this nature in distinctly masculine and feminine ways, with their own strengths and sin-caused weaknesses. It could be said that men are especially prone to three faults – malice, lust and envy – while women are particularly susceptible to deceit, vanity and jealousy. Not every man or woman will exhibit these tendencies, but they must fight against them, and can easily fall into them unawares, especially in a culture like that of the modern West which tends to deny not only sin but human nature itself. Just as men can fall prey to mocking, pornography and ambition, women can become manipulative, narcissistic and self-centered. When women try to impersonate men, as they are encouraged to do by feminism, they can even fuse their own faults to those of men (just as effeminate men can combine their manly faults with those of women).
For those familiar with Tolkien’s stories of Middle-earth, it could seem that he generally fell more into the first camp, a man who cannot see the fallibility of women: there are no female villains in his stories (Shelob notwithstanding), and the women who do show some weaknesses, such as Galadriel and Éowyn, are still central heroes who overcome their faults without apparently succumbing to them. Even Galadriel’s participation in the exile of Fëanor, for which he originally conceived her resistance to the temptation of the One Ring as her final penance and which merited her permission to return to Valinor, was edited by Tolkien in his later revisions so that she was not complicit in his sin and was only banned from the Undying Lands through the Valar’s general prohibition of emigration: “Galadriel was ‘unstained’: she had committed no evil deeds.”[9] There is perhaps some truth to this impression, though as he aged Tolkien became a bit wiser in his estimation of women, but even so, I would like to take a closer look at the characters of Galadriel and Éowyn and the way that Tolkien made brilliant if subtle insights into the feminine soul.
Galadriel
Galadriel is one of the greatest women in the history of Middle-earth, the one Tolkien most explicitly connected to the Virgin Mary. She is thus Tolkien’s chief exemplar of femininity, both in its special gifts and vulnerabilities, revealed most clearly in her interactions with the Fellowship in the realm she established with her husband Celeborn through the power of her ring: Lothlórien, named for and modeled after the home of the Valar Irmo and Estë in Valinor, where nothing decayed and the only mallorn trees grew east of the Sea. As Tolkien scholar Richard Purtill explains, Galadriel demonstrated the virtues which come most naturally to women, especially “gentleness, understanding of personal relationships, compassion.” He also points out that, in Galadriel’s descriptions of herself, she makes it clear “that it is not her task… to decide or plan for others.” Instead, for each member of the Fellowship (but misinterpreted as a temptation by Boromir), she “has made their [available] choices explicit and concrete.”[10]
This action is another example of her exceptional femininity. Despite being one of the most powerful beings in the world, a ring-bearer capable of wresting the One Ring away from Sauron’s control, an Elf of almost unequaled antiquity (being “as old, or older than Shelob”)[11] and wisdom, she does not seek to rule or dominate others: she submits to Celeborn, both as her king and husband, and simply helps the Fellowship decide what paths to take while imposing nothing on them herself. In his aforementioned letter to Michael, Tolkien called this “the servient, helpmeet instinct”[12] – something which would likely get him “cancelled” in today’s world and which is neglected by the Tauriel/“Rings of Power” warrior Galadriel/“War of the Rohirrim” Héra feminist icons from film adaptations.
Just every good man in some way is a father, so every good woman in some way is a mother, and Galadriel, by her wise guidance, humble submission, gentle nurturing and courageous defiance of evil through purity of heart and strength of will, she exemplified motherhood in heroic fashion. Galadriel, however, is no less independent, powerful or intelligent for her feminine submissiveness – in fact, it is her greatest asset, the total lack of pride that allowed her to see into the mind of Sauron and, unlike Denethor and Saruman, resist his seductions over many centuries, never giving away the location of her ring or any other secrets to him.[13]
As an Elf and a woman, Galadriel also exemplified beauty. This is another difficult concept for modern people, eliciting accusations of “fatphobia” or presumptions of vanity and narcissism, but in fact, while both men and women naturally love beauty, women have a natural affinity for it, allowing it to shine through their physical beauty, including their voice and gestures, and modestly accentuating it with cosmetics, accessories, clothing and every other form of self-expression. The beauty of women has something of “faerie” about it which is endlessly enchanting. Men cherish this, often inspiring them with a beauty they might rarely experience in their grueling jobs, and while it can lead to idolization of women, it can also, in better men, point them to the Virgin Mary and through her to God, who is Beauty-itself.
Galadriel had this effect on the Fellowship, renewing their spirits with the beauty of herself, her home and her gifts to them – even Gimli, whose suspicion of Elves melted away at her ancient and youthful splendor, inspiring him for the rest of his life. Galadriel, like all good women, also preserved the beauty of tradition, handing on to Frodo her phial which contained the light of the star of Eärendil, itself derived from the Silmaril he carried across the night sky whose clarity preserved the primordial light of the Two Trees of Valinor.
In her time with the Fellowship, Galadriel also endured and overcame her greatest temptation, and in her words, she revealed what is the hardest trial for all women. As Purtill explains,
Tolkien pictures Galadriel’s temptation as the temptation to be universally, irresistibly, loved… The light the ring sheds is only on her, ‘leaving all else in darkness’. Envy, the desire to be preeminent, is a traditional masculine vice; jealousy, the desire to be loved uniquely and exclusively, is a traditional feminine vice. Galadriel imagines herself the focus of everyone’s possessive love; since she cannot belong to everyone, ‘all shall love me and despair!’[14]
Whether they would admit it or not (just as men rarely admit their own faults), this is the most common temptation for all women, something which ensnares many and can even ruin marriages and families. But how does Galadriel (and how can any woman) overcome it? Through a lifetime of inculcating wisdom and virtue, as well as “previous thought and resolve” in anticipation of this encounter.[15] Purtill observes,
The words in which Galadriel refuses the temptation are both beautiful and significant: ‘I will diminish…’: she can face losing power, becoming less than she is, as Denethor or Saruman could not. Next, ‘and go into the West”: she will leave the Middle-earth she loves, give up her fight to preserve an Elvish remnant in Middle-earth. Finally, “and remain Galadriel”: she will retain her true self, be her own woman and not the tool of the evil power in the Ring.[16]
Éowyn
A strong argument could be made that the most complex, and misunderstood, character in The Lord of the Rings is Éowyn. Like Galadriel, Éowyn has a distinctly Marian role as the only one capable of defeating the Witch-King. Tolkien showed his philological side by having Glorfindel, fighting against the Witch-King many centuries before the battle of the Pelennor Fields, utter a prophecy that no “man” could kill him, but, in a kind of divine irony, Tolkien used this term, which is generic for the whole human race (and probably the way it was originally intended), in its specific sense for “males,” thus only a woman could kill the chief lieutenant of Sauron. Similarly, God chose the Virgin Mary, through the prophesy of Genesis 3:15 (“I will put enmities between thee and the woman, and thy seed and her seed: she shall crush thy head, and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel.” DRA), to crush the head of Satan by becoming the Mother of God, the tabernacle of the Incarnation of her Son, whose Cross would destroy the dominion of the devil forever.
Many people have also made another comparison: Éowyn seems to be very similar to St. Joan of Arc, the medieval French woman who received visions from God and inspired the knights of France to claim victory over the English in the Hundred Years War. For these actions, St. Joan is often appropriated as a feminist icon among saints, an example of a woman “overcoming” the sexist standards of her time to fight alongside men and lead troops into battle. It is, however, uncertain that St. Joan ever personally led troops or fought in battle, and she was certainly not a proto-feminist.
Éowyn, on the other hand, can be compared to feminists in some ways. Due to motives which are unclear – perhaps the early deaths of her parents, including her father in battle against orcs, as well as witnessing the demonic possession of her king and uncle through the leechcraft of Gríma Wormtongue for many years while she stood by unable to help – by the time she is met in The Lord of the Rings, Éowyn had developed a mentality of fatalism and despair. She longed for independence, to “vie with the great Riders [of Rohan]” and “take joy only in the songs of slaying”, as she later remarks – in a word, she desired to act like a man, to forsake her natural femininity in the hope that, by physical prowess, she could feel some kind of freedom. She placed no value on her womanhood, seeing it, like feminists, only as a form of weakness, uselessness and enslavement to men. She thus said, practically echoing feminist mockery of housewives, “‘Shall I always be left behind when the Riders depart, to mind the house while they win renown, and find food and beds when they return?’”[17]
This same spirit also caused her to shirk her responsibilities to Rohan, not only by abandoning Edoras to accompany the riders heading to Gondor but also to try and join Aragorn on his journey through the Paths of the Dead. Éowyn pointedly asks, “‘I have waited on faltering feet long enough. Since they falter no longer, it seems, may I not now spend my life as I will?’” But Aragorn offers a profound correction: “‘Few may do that with honour’”.[18] As Joseph Pearce observes, “what a perfect riposte to all those who demand their rights over their responsibilities, doing their ‘own thing’ to the detriment of the common good.”[19]
In feminist appraisals of Éowyn, the part that is generally left out is her final rescue, not only by the ministrations of Aragorn, but even more so by the love of Faramir. The Witch-King’s black breath was not the only cause of her subsequent torpor, one from which Merry escaped much more easily: Éowyn succumbed to the shadow of suicidal despair and self-loathing which had haunted her for many years and had inspired both her hero-worship of Aragorn and her deceptive impersonation of a man to ride with the knights of Rohan as Dernhelm. She did not break free from it by “empowerment” or “asserting her independence,” as a feminist would recommend – instead, she rediscovered her true femininity, revealed and affirmed by Faramir, a good man who loved her as a good woman. Whereas upon first meeting him she had said, “‘Shadow lies on me still. Look not to me for healing! I am a shieldmaiden and my hand is ungentle”,[20] now, after spending many days with him walking in Minas Tirith, she is finally set free:
Then the heart of Éowyn changed, or else at last she understood it. And suddenly her winter passed, and the sun shone on her. ‘I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun,’ she said; ‘and behold! the Shadow has departed! I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren.’[21]
As Joseph Pearce explains, “Although Éowyn’s embrace of fertility and her willing surrender to Faramir’s love are guaranteed to outrage the feminist reader, it would be a gross and grotesque error to see her change of heart as a defeat of her powers as a woman. Her status as the slayer of the Witch-king is not diminished, nor is the fact that the Witch-king’s defeat could only be accomplished by a woman negated.”[22] God can bring good even out of our wrong choices, and he used the despair and disobedience of Éowyn to bring about the downfall of the Witch-King. Similarly, Tolkien observed, “Though not a ‘dry nurse’ in temper, [Éowyn] was also not really a soldier or ‘amazon’, but like many brave women was capable of great military gallantry at a crisis.”[23]
Ultimately, it is unfitting for women to serve in combat roles, whether as police or military, yet they can still act with exceptional heroism in times of need, just as women during the World Wars worked in men’s jobs with great productivity until they could return to their most natural and fulfilling roles as wives and mothers when their husbands returned home – for those fortunate few who did. The true issue, which is difficult to grasp in our age obsessed with individual rights and practical freedoms, is not what women can or may do, but what they should do – what is best and most fitting for them in their natural femininity, as for men in their natural masculinity, what promotes and most fruitfully employs these God-given gifts for the common good and for their authentic happiness.
This post, like my preceding article on masculinity and probably even more so, flies in the face of commonly held beliefs in modern society, so shaped as it is by feminism. But my goal has been to represent accurately the beliefs and values of Tolkien on this important subject, and my own views where they are in agreement with his. As a final example, in a letter to Michael giving advice for attending Mass during the liturgical disintegration of the 1960s, Tolkien lamented the presence of “women in trousers and often with hair both unkempt and uncovered.”[24] Why, someone today might ask, would he have a problem with women in trousers or without veils at Mass? The reason is precisely this: Tolkien loved women as women. He was not simply a “product of his time,” holding onto “outdated chauvinist values” as some have claimed – quite the opposite. Unlike feminists, he wanted clear distinctions between men and women, so that both could be valued according to God’s design for them.
The confusion of the sexes has led to the destruction of the family and the plague of gender ideology which are tearing society apart today. A woman wearing a dress and veil at Mass with her family is a perfect image of the Virgin Mary, an earthly icon of she who is most blessed among women – this is what Tolkien cherished and strived to uphold, and what can also illuminate the home, the family, the arts, academia, the Church and all of society with the beautiful gift of femininity.
(Cover image source: By Ralph Damiani: https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Category:Images_of_Galadriel#/media/File:Ralph_Damiani_-_The_Lady_of_the_Golden_Wood.jpg)
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[1] J.R.R. Tolkien; Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien (eds), The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2000), letter 250, 267.
[2] Humphrey Carpenter, Tolkien: A Biography (New York: Ballantine Books, 1978), 34.
[3] Tolkien, Letters, letter 165.
[4] Holly Ordway, Tolkien’s Faith (Elk Grove Village, IL: Word on Fire Academic, 2023), 350.
[5] Tolkien, Letters, letter 142.
[6] Tolkien, Letters, letter 213; cf. letter 320.
[7] Tolkien, Letters, p. 454.
[8] Tolkien, Letters, letter 43.
[9] Tolkien, Letters, letter 353.
[10] Richard Purtill, J.R.R. Tolkien: Myth, Morality and Religion (San Francisco: Ignatius, 2003), 113.
[11] Tolkien, Letters, letter 144.
[12] Tolkien, Letters, letter 43.
[13] Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 364.
[14] Purtill, J.R.R. Tolkien, 115.
[15] Tolkien, Letters, letter 246.
[16] Purtill, J.R.R. Tolkien, 115-116.
[17] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Mariner Books, 2004), 784. Kindle.
[18] Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 784.
[19] Joseph Pearce, “Revisiting ‘The Return of the King’,” at The Imaginative Conservative (5 October 2019), www.theimaginativeconservative.org.
[20] Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 960.
[21] Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, 964.
[22] Joseph Pearce, “Hobbits and Heroines,” at The Imaginative Conservative (5 October 2019), www.theimaginativeconservative.org.
[23]Tolkien, Letters, letter 244.
[24] Tolkien, Letters, letter 250.
You should write a book.
I have not read so noteworthy an essay like this on Substack this week.