J.R.R. Tolkien's epic tale became a cultural touchstone almost instantly, its relevance enduring through generations. Long before Peter Jackson's acclaimed film trilogy, the story captivated millions, creating a fandom so devoted that for them, no adaptation could ever surpass the original text. But how did this story come to be? What real-world anxieties and profound beliefs were woven into the fabric of Middle-earth? To understand the power of The Lord of the Rings, we must look beyond the page and into the mind of its creator.

A Legend Born from a Single Word

The conception of The Lord of the Rings began in 1937, not as a grand epic, but as a potential sequel to a charming children's story, The Hobbit. Tolkien was already deep in his life's work, The Silmarillion, a dense collection of myths that formed the bedrock of his universe. He considered another adventure for Bilbo Baggins but ultimately created a new protagonist, Bilbo’s nephew, Frodo, to carry a much heavier burden.

Tolkien envisioned the entire story as a single volume. However, the sheer scale of the novel, combined with post-war paper shortages, led his publishers to divide the work into three parts: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King. Though he disagreed with the decision, believing it undermined the unity of the narrative, the trilogy format became iconic. The seventeen years between the initial idea and its final publication in 1954 were a period of immense global turmoil, and the world had changed forever. It was this changed world that would seek to find its own reflection in the pages of his masterpiece.

The Shadow of War and the Rejection of Allegory

Many readers have drawn direct parallels between the great war in the novel and the World Wars of the 20th century. This interpretation is understandable. Tolkien served in the First World War and fought in the horrific Battle of the Somme, where he lost dear friends and contracted a debilitating trench fever. This experience places him among the "Lost Generation," alongside writers like Hemingway and Remarque.

However, Tolkien's work diverges sharply from theirs. While the literature of the Lost Generation often portrays broken, doomed heroes and bleak outcomes, The Lord of the Rings is suffused with a resilient hope. It is a story where good, against all odds, can ultimately triumph over evil.

Despite this, readers have persistently seen allegories in his work—the terrifying winged beasts of the Nazgûl as bombers, the Ring of Power as a nuclear weapon. Tolkien himself firmly resisted these one-to-one comparisons. When asked if the Orcs were stand-ins for communists, he wittily dismissed the notion. Yet, his private letters reveal a man deeply aware of the world's evils, describing Adolf Hitler as an "accursed ignoramus" and Joseph Stalin as a "bloodthirsty old murderer." His opposition was not to political commentary, but to simplistic, limiting allegory. The evil he wrote of was a timeless one, not confined to a single regime or event.

In the Beginning Was the Word

To truly grasp Tolkien's vision, one must understand his unique creative process. A professor of ancient English languages and a philologist, Tolkien’s primary passion was language. He once said that his stories were written primarily to create a world where the languages he had invented could be spoken. He famously remarked that he would have preferred to write in Elvish.

This philosophy turns the typical storytelling process on its head. We are used to language being a tool to tell a story. For Tolkien, the story was a tool to explore a language. His mythology grew from etymology. The entire epic began by chance as he was grading exams. On a blank page, he scribbled a sentence that would change literary history: “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.” The word "hobbit" was a spontaneous creation. To understand who or what a hobbit was, he had to write a story. The reality inherent in the language was, for him, more primary than our own.

His deep knowledge of Germanic and Scandinavian mythology also provided the archetypes for his world. The noble Elves and industrious Dwarves are clear descendants of the figures found in the Elder Edda, an ancient collection of Icelandic songs. Through them, Tolkien explores the immutable aspects of human nature—the craving for power, the capacity for destruction—that have echoed through myths for centuries.

Nature vs. The Machine

Tolkien lived through a period of explosive scientific and technological change. The turn of the 20th century promised a future of prosperity, but progress brought not just convenience, but also more efficient ways to bring about death. Tanks, first used in the Battle of the Somme, were a grim testament to the fact that technological advancement did not guarantee a better world.

His distrust of unchecked industrialization is a central theme of The Lord of the Rings. He disliked many modern contrivances, preferring a bicycle to a car. This worldview is perfectly illustrated in the stark contrast between the Shire and Mordor. The Shire is an idyll of natural harmony. The hobbits are gardeners and farmers, living a simple, measured life far from the gears of industry and politics. Mordor, the "Black Country," is its antithesis—a land of ash and fire where nature is smothered and enslaved to a dark, technological will. It is a powerful critique of an industrial society that severs its connection to the natural world.

The Triumph of the Small

Initially, the hobbits’ quest seems hopeless. How can small, gentle creatures stand against an evil so immense? Their strength, it turns out, lies not in power, but in kindness, loyalty, and a compassion that evil cannot comprehend. They succeed by performing acts that, to a cynical mind, seem illogical.

This is most powerfully seen in Frodo's relationship with Gollum. Upon learning of Gollum's betrayal, Frodo has the chance to kill him but chooses mercy. This single act of pity is what ultimately saves Middle-earth. At the climax, standing at the edge of Mount Doom, Frodo finally succumbs and claims the Ring for himself. It is then that Gollum, in his desperate obsession, bites the Ring from Frodo's finger and falls with it into the fire, destroying it. Frodo’s mercy created the conditions for an unexpected, un-willed salvation.

This moment carries deep spiritual weight, echoing a passage from the Gospels: "If your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away." As a devout Catholic, Tolkien imbued his work with a profound moral and theological spirit, even without explicit religious allegory. A higher providence is felt throughout, a sense that a guiding hand is at work.

In The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien built more than a story. He constructed a world to house his languages, to explore his deepest beliefs about good and evil, and to champion the simple, gentle things against the roaring machines of power. He found the answer to the question of what truly endures, and it was not steel or fire, but hope, pity, and the courage of the small.

References

• Carpenter, Humphrey. J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography. George Allen & Unwin, 1977.

  This is the authorized biography of Tolkien, offering a comprehensive look into his life, from his childhood and academic career to his traumatic experiences in World War I (Part Three, Chapter II, "The Breaking of the Fellowship," pp. 83-93). It details the long and arduous process of writing The Lord of the Rings and provides essential context for the personal beliefs and events that shaped his creative work.

• Tolkien, J.R.R. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. Edited by Humphrey Carpenter with the assistance of Christopher Tolkien. George Allen & Unwin, 1981.

  This collection of Tolkien's personal correspondence is an invaluable primary source. Here, Tolkien directly addresses interpretations of his work, famously stating his dislike for allegory (Letter #131). The letters also confirm his views on contemporary politics, including his condemnations of Hitler and Stalin (Letter #45), and elaborate on the Catholic themes that subtly underpin the narrative (Letter #142), providing direct evidence for many of the points discussed in the article.

• Shippey, T.A. J.R.R. Tolkien: Author of the Century. HarperCollins, 2000.

  Written by a philologist who held the same academic chair as Tolkien at the University of Leeds, this book provides a deep and accessible analysis of how Tolkien's academic work on language and mythology is the absolute foundation of Middle-earth. Shippey expertly demonstrates how the story grew out of words, exploring the origins of hobbits, elves, and the larger narrative from a linguistic perspective (Chapter IV, "The Bourgeois Burglar," pp. 67-106), which supports the article's focus on Tolkien's unique creative method.