Category: Myth

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What is True Art? Tolkien and Heidegger on Art vs. Machine

What is true art? Speaking of “The Machine” in On Fairy-Stories, Tolkien contrasts it with organic, sub-creative work of a true artist or storyteller.

By the [Machine] I intend all use of external plans or devices (apparatus) instead of development of the inherent inner powers or talents—or even the use of these talents with the corrupted motive of dominating: bulldozing the real world, or coercing other wills.

So, what is the Machine? It’s anything external I use to force my will upon the world. According to Tolkien, the Machine differs from Art (sub-creation) in that it arises from a desire to amplify self-will rather than from an attunement to the Music of IlĂșvatar.

All true Art, which is the province of the Elves, proceeds from one’s inner alignment with the Great Music. The Elves first hear the Music and then express it through their Art. Their purpose is to attune to the Thought of IlĂșvatar in all things and to pour this harmony into the world. In contrast, the purpose of the Machine-creator is to attune to self-will and devise ways to impose it upon the outer world.

Art is prayer springing from: â€œThy will be done”; the Machine is anti-prayer springing from: â€œMy will be done.” Art is internal; the Machine is external. In The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien insists that evil cannot be defeated by wielding the Power of the Ring.

You can make the Ring into an allegory of our own time, if you like: an allegory of the inevitable fate that waits for all attempts to defeat evil power by power. Letter 96 to Christopher

When we use external means to defeat external means we amplify the external means. The Machine perpetuates the Machine. Power cannot defeat power. Paradise cannot be achieved through external means. Only the renunciation of power can overcome power. Art is the ultimate renunciation of external power and amplification of the internal power—the intrinsic power of Being.

That’s why the Art of the Elves is not technology. It may look like technology—Elvish ropes, robes, fials, boats, lembas bread, blades, ploughs, bows, harps, bowls, etc.—its purpose is not domination but the manifestation of the Great Music in the world. All Art taps into spiritual power and brings it into the physical realm, which is the ultimate triumph over evil.

The “products” of Art reveal the Music. That’s why the Elvish rope burns Gollum’s neck—he can’t bear the “sound” of the Great Music. That’s why all Elvish things ward off evil, not through external force but by the light they emanate. The “power” of Sting lies not in its external properties but in how much Divine light it carries.

Elvish tools—chisels, harps, hammers, bowls—are not technology in the conventional sense of the word but an organic part of the creative process. Elvish boats are carved with Elvish knives, each infused with a prayer to Elbereth. Elvish tools are not “external means” to bend reality to the Elvish will; they are an outer expression of their inner attunement to the Higher Will. So, what is true art?

As Heidegger says in his essay The Question Concerning Technology, modern technology is not just an instrument — it’s a way of revealing (aletheia). It reveals how we view the world. It is a Gestell (enframing) — a rigid framework that configures our vision, causing us to see everything as a resource. Its purpose is to order and command nature, not to listen to its Song.

Modern technology doesn’t hear any Song, and it teaches us not to hear it either. It limits our perception of reality, reducing everything—including humans—to mere means to an end. After renouncing the nature of modern technology as a Gestell, Heidegger concludes,

Because the essence of technology is nothing technological, essential reflection upon technology and decisive confrontation with it must happen in a realm that is, on the one hand, akin to the essence of technology and, on the other, fundamentally different from it. Such a realm is art.

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Does Magic Exist in Middle-Earth?

Does magic exist in Middle-Earth? After the Company had received miraculous gifts from the Elves of Lothlórien — lembas bread, ropes made of hithlain, superlight boats, and “magic” cloaks — Pippin asked:

‘Are these magic cloaks?’ asked Pippin, looking at them with wonder.

‘I do not know what you mean by that,’ answered the leader of the Elves. ‘They are fair garments, and the web is good, for it was made in this land. They are Elvish robes certainly, if that is what you mean. Leaf and branch, water and stone: they have the hue and beauty of all these things under the twilight of Lorien that we love; for we put the thought of all that we love into all that we make.’

Whatever Elves make looks like technology but feels like music. They make in the law in which they were made. They infuse all they make with Music of Iluvatar whence they came. They hearken unto the Music and capture it in whatever their hands touch. All they create is prayer — attuning to the celestial Music and letting it flow into the world.

Music doesn’t manipulate. Beauty never coerces; it invites. Take it or leave it. It’s not going to force you. The Machine, on the other hand, does force. It is not made from a desire to capture the Music. It is made from a desire to dominate. The Machine is the opposite of prayer. Prayer is about: “Thy will be done”; technology is about: “My will be done.”

The heart of the Machine is bulldozing reality to fit my will. The heart of prayer is tuning in to the invisible Law behind all things and reflecting it in whatever you do. That’s why the art of the Elves is not technology even though it looks like technology. Their creations are spun from prayer — their attunement to the Great Music.

When you pray, you create art. When you seek to bend reality to your desires, you build the Machine. When you pray, you don’t think about your desires — your only desire is to become small and be caught by the mighty Flow of Beauty. When you wish to dominate, all you think about is how to force the world to fulfill your desires.

The fundamental difference between art and technology lies in the will. It’s either: “Thy will be done” or: “My will be done.” As Martin Buber pointed out, God is either Thou or “it.” When God is Thou, he invites you into a personal relationship with him — to join the Great Dance. When God is “it,” no relationship is possible. The only way to relate to “it” is through domination.

When we don’t see the Divine behind visible phenomena, we seek to dominate the phenomena. They become mere instruments to fulfill my wishes. If I see the world as “it,” not Thou, I create the Machine. If I see God as Thou, not it, I see his Presence behind all phenomena and create Art.

Art may look very similar to technology, but it feels like Music. Art is humble; its desire is to become small so the Music can be big. That’s why all the Elvish gifts had such incredible power. They were infused with the power of the Music of creation captured through prayer and contemplation.

“Spirit is not in the I, but between the I and the Thou.” – Martin Buber

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Why Did Tolkien Like Trees?

Why did Tolkien like trees? Trees are fascinating — they grow upward and downward simultaneously. Their root system, if the soil is deep enough, resembles the way the branches grow.

The tree stretches itself both up and down at the same time. The more grounded it is, the more it stretches its hands to the Sun. The more it stretches its hands to the Sun, the more grounded it is.

The symbolism of the tree is vast and manifold. Ultimately, the tree is an image of who we are. We have two legs to stand firmly on the ground and two hands to reach to the Sun. J.R.R. Tolkien, a great lover of trees, captured this symbolism in Galadriel’s strange gift to Sam — a seed of the mallorn-tree.

Sam was the gardener. He was “down to earth.” A perfect helper for Frodo, he could always return him to sanity. Hobbits represent rootedness. They lived in the roots of the trees where they dug their smials. After living in the roots for centuries, they became rooted in the soil. They were, so to say, the roots of the world.

And yet, Sam yearned to see the Elves. He was rooted and grounded and yet, his hands spread out to the Sun. The more you are rooted, the more you grow. He was down to earth, and yet his soul longed for the lofty beauty of the Elves. The Elves of Lothlórien lived in the trees. That’s where they built their houses with flets. They lived among the branches and the leaves. They were in touch with the beauty of heaven.

Galadriel knew that Shire would soon be uprooted, so she gave Sam the undying symbol of new hope. The mallorn tree was a symbol of both rootedness and loftiness. In it, the hobbits met with the Elves. Sam and his descendants would live in the roots, but they would always look up at the tree top waving in the wind and think of the beauty of LothlĂłrien.

Galadriel gave Sam the gift of himself. He was the mallorn-tree. Rooted in the soil, he yearned for the skies.

“He [Sam] took the seed in his hand, and looked at it with wonder. ‘This is a gift from the Lady Galadriel,’ he said. ‘A piece of the tree of Lothlórien, a piece of the Elves, and of her grace. A thing that might grow into a living memory of a land that was once so beautiful. I will plant it in the Party Field where the old tree stood.’”

We are all trees. We have a dual nature. We are from the earth, and we are from heaven. We are hobbits and Elves at the same time. We live on the Vine that grows up to the sky. We are its branches. Our roots go down into the earth, and our hands reach up to the Sun. No wonder on many medieval frescoes, Christ was depicted as a Vine with disciples sitting on its branches. We are the Tree as we participate in the great Vine, which is the Tree of Life.

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What is Satan’s Plan for Deceiving People?

What is Satan’s plan for deceiving people? I remember watching a lecture on YouTube by a KGB professor who taught a class on how world elites rule over societies.

He said, “Imagine there is a truth and a lie. It’s a huge mistake to place common people between the truth and a lie and let them decide which is which. The truth will always prevail. It is too self-evident. The way to rule the masses is to always keep people between two lies.”

When you keep people between two lies, they will be distracted enough not to see the truth. They will split into two groups and start fighting each other. Each group will clearly see the lie of the other. Neither will see their own. Human nature is such that people never see problems with their own position but always find fault with the opposite one.

When I heard that, I thought, “How viciously insightful! If it isn’t the very definition of diabolos, I don’t know what is.” In Greek, diabolos means “the one who throws apart.” The devil invents two lies and places people in between them. The more we stare at the lies (which always contain some truth), the more we are drawn apart.

The devil keeps fanning into the flame and polarizing people until they start demonizing each other. When people fight, they are too distracted to see the truth. All they think about is how wrong the other side is. This is the best scenario for ruling over the masses. They will want a ruler.

St. Augustine said,

“The truth is like a lion; you don’t have to defend it. Let it loose; it will defend itself.”

According to the KGB professor, it is a grave mistake to place people between the truth and a lie. The truthfulness of the truth is too obvious to miss. It doesn’t need any defending. When you see it, you know it. Seeing is enough. That’s why the devil’s goal is never to let people see it.

Truth is too obvious to miss. When you see it, you know it. It’s not propositional — it doesn’t require proof. It’s experiential — you simply encounter it. When you encounter it, you can either embrace it or turn away. But you can’t help recognizing it. That’s why when the devil tries to trap Jesus into taking sides, he always refuses. Truth doesn’t get polarized.

When people encounter Jesus, they forget about their differences and see the truth about themselves. “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?” If Jesus had taken sides, he would have lost. He answered in such a way that everyone was lost. He left them dumbfounded, “Hm
 what belongs to Caesar and what to God?”

The issue of whether to pay taxes to Caesar or not was not the real issue. These were the two lies people were placed between. Neither was right. The real issue was that they couldn’t see in their hearts what belonged to Caesar and what to God. If they could, they wouldn’t have been polarized.

When we encounter the Truth, we quickly realize,

“Let God be true, but every man a liar.”

As John of the Cross said,

“In the divine union, all contraries are reconciled, and the soul experiences the peace that comes from the resolution of all opposites.”

The devil creates a strong illusion of seeming contradictions. He places us between two opposites, and we think they are absolute. We don’t see the Absolute. When we encounter the Absolute, all opposites are resolved instantly. We know it by the peace we feel.

“Love
 binds all things together in perfect unity.”

Contradictions cease the moment we encounter God face to face. As Meister Eckhart said,

“In the ground of the soul, there is a unity where all opposites coincide in the eternal now of God’s presence.”

Without the vibrant experience of this presence, we will always be between two lies.

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How Aletheia Saves Us From the Shadows of Lethe

How does Aletheia save us from the shadows of Lethe? The mythological river Lethe in the kingdom of Hades is the river of “oblivion.” Lethe means oblivion or forgetfulness. The river flows through hell, and whatever falls into Lethe is forgotten.

Surprisingly, Lethe is related to the Greek aletheia, truth. The prefix “a” means “the opposite of” and Lethe means oblivion. Truth is something that doesn’t fall into Lethe. In Greek, aletheia is something that doesn’t fall into oblivion.

But what doesn’t fall into oblivion? Eventually, everything falls into oblivion. Everything is forgotten, except the things (and the times) we have salvaged from being consumed by the flow of chronological time.

Salvaged time is the time snatched from oblivion. It is aletheia.

“Yes, says the Spirit, they are blessed indeed, for they will rest from their hard work; for their good deeds follow them!” Rev. 14:13

Whatever we have done in chronological time to transcend chronological time remains. It follows us. It has been saved from Lethe. It is aletheia. It cannot disappear. Michelangelo said,

“The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.”

In aletheia, we turn shadows into glimpses of divine perfection. They cannot disappear. We do something “into the law in which we were made” – to use Tolkien’s vernacular. We become sub-creators.

We have glimpsed divine perfection, and we reproduce it within the confines of our shadow world. The only way to salvage the world of shadows from falling into the shadow of oblivion is to transcend the shadows.

Whether we bake bread, write articles, talk to a friend over a cup of tea, build a cathedral, or fix cars – if we glimpse and reflect the divine spark in what we do, we engage in aletheia. We transcend the shadow land.

Everything in the shadow land is a shadow until we see through it and infuse it with divine perfection. We can do it by virtue of our divine birth. We have that spark in us. We are that spark. We are but shadows transcending ourselves by pursuing aletheia every moment of the day.

How does Aletheia save us from the shadows of Lethe? When we pursue aletheia, it follows us. We rise above Lethe. We are timeless.

“Great art is an instant arrested in eternity.” James Huniker

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What is the Meaning of Aslan’s Name?

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What is the meaning of Aslan’s name in Narnia? I have always found it curious that the name of Aslan caused such different reactions in the Pevensie children. In fact, when I first read that passage, something jumped in me too:

“At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.”

There was something relatable about it. Surprisingly, there was something relatable even in Edmund’s reaction to the name.

“But Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror.”

It felt like some judgment was going on. Not externally but internally. The name of Aslan was the ultimate revealer of what was in a person. It amplified the contents of your heart. If there was light in it, you could almost touch it. If there was darkness there, you couldn’t help but feel horror.

When I read John 3:19, it all came together:

“This is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the light.” 

What is the meaning of Aslan’s name in Narnia? When the light comes, it reveals what is. There’s nothing else to judge. Judgment is internal. It jumps from within us every moment we encounter the Light. We either delight in the light or hide from it. Depending on the state of my consciousness in the moment, the Light will either make me lighter or heavier.

The same curious thing happened in The Lord of the Rings when the company entered LothlĂłrien. The effect of entering the realm of the Lady was such that all the company felt the presence of some inexplicable magic.

For some, it was a delight. For others, torment. Tolkien seems to suggest that the whole land was Galadriel’s mirror — not just the stone mirror itself. As the fellowship walked through the enchanted wood, they saw their secret thoughts and desires revealed as if in a mirror.

Some liked it; others hated it. But they couldn’t hide from it. They stepped into a land of the Last Judgement unfolding 24/7. Galadriel wasn’t the Judge — she was the revealer of what was in each person’s heart. The Judgement was internal, not external.

For Boromir it was torment. For Aragorn, it was a delight. Boromir said,

“It is said that few come out who once go in; and of that few none have escaped unscathed.’ ‘Say not unscathed, but if you say unchanged, then maybe you will speak the truth,’ said Aragorn.”

In the final analysis, we are all judged by how we respond to our encounter with the Ultimate Beauty. For some, it is an eternal delight. For some, eternal torment. If you come with a pure heart, it is a delight. If you come with an idol, it is a curse.

The Light is always sweet for the one who allows it in. It is a horror to the one who doesn’t. The encounter with the Ultimate Beauty can be either heaven or hell — depending on what is inside one’s heart already.

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What is the Symbolism Of Pygmalion and Galatea?

What is the symbolism of Pygmalion and Galatea? As we walked around a quaint souvenir shop in Wytheville, VA, called Wilderness Road World Trading, I found myself gazing at some of the statues for minutes. Dancers looked like they had frozen into their position a moment before I glanced at them. Faces looked so real that it seemed they could raise their eyes back at you any moment. They made me think of Pygmalion and Galatea.

The story of Pygmalion is really simple but deep. According to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Pygmalion was a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he had carved. The statue was so perfect that he wanted it to come alive. He prayed to Aphrodite and asked her to make the statue come alive. Aphrodite granted his wish.

Michelangelo said,

“Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.”

Every artist understands Pygmalion’s feelings. When you pour your soul into something you make, you want it to come alive and have a life of its own. You want it to be separate from you. You look at the work of your hands, you love it, and you want it to be free.

Love, by its nature, wants to free its object. Separation is a necessary overflow of love. Love diversifies. And yet, deep down it knows that the more separate you are from the one you love, the more you are one with the one you love. This is a chief paradox of love. You want the object of your love to be free, separate, and yet, it does not lead to division. It leads to unity.

Divisions are always the result of forced, contrived unity. The devil forces unity to divide. God diversifies to unite. The devil erases all differences and causes splits. God creates distinctions and causes unity. Pygmalion wanted Galatea to have a life of her own so he could love her. It’s the only thing love can do. Love must free its object. Hate must swallow its object — consume it into itself.

Love is by its nature trinitarian. The Three Divine Persons are totally separate from each other and yet, totally one. Every Person of the Trinity wants the Other to be as Other as possible, and yet, the more “other” they are, the more one they become. They are totally free from each other and yet, inextricably bound.

If you love something you make, you want it to exist separately from you. Pygmalion freed Galatea from the stone slab so she could love him back. True love feels the trinitarian dance between separation and unity. It is after harmony. It won’t settle for less.