Great Fathers of History: J.R.R. Tolkien

This post is part of a series on Great Fathers of History. Biographies and histories about great men often focus on political, intellectual, or cultural achievements but say little about their domestic relationships. Yet some of these men were exemplary fathers, whose lives carry valuable lessons for any current or prospective parent. This series seeks to unearth those lessons by exploring how these men raised their children and what they said, wrote or believed about what a father should be.

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The professor had a problem. The toy dog was missing. The figurine was his five-year old son, Michael’s, favorite plaything. Now it was gone, washed to sea when the boy left it unattended on a beach vacation. Michael was inconsolable. 

Eager to comfort his son, the professor did the only thing he could think to do—he wrote a story. In it, a puppy named Rover crosses an irritable wizard, who turns the dog into a toy. The toy dog ventures out to find the wizard and restore his original form. Rover’s travels take him everywhere from space, where he seeks help from the Man in the Moon, to the deep sea, realm of the Mer-King. 

The story, Roverandam, lifted young Michael’s spirits. For the professor, J.R.R. Tolkien, it helped launch a period of unbelievable creativity and professional success. Inspired by his children’s curiosity, Tolkien would compose masterful works of fantasy fiction, including The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings series, which would establish him as one of the 20th century’s greatest authors. Impressive as this is, Tolkien’s legacy as a dad is also outstanding.

Family Man

Before he was a world-famous novelist, Tolkien was a professor of English literature at the University of Leeds and later Oxford. Although his academic work could be demanding, Tolkien was devoted to his four children. Like many of the Great Fathers in this series, he labored to make time for family connection.

To maximize his family time, Tolkien spent as much of his work day as possible at home. After finishing a lecture at the university, he would hop on his bike and pedal home—professorial robes flapping—to have tea or lunch with his children. Then, he was back on his bike and off to his next professional engagement. Tolkien criss-crossed his neighborhood several times each day, proving that family time and fitness can be mutually supportive.

Unlike colleagues who spent hours sequestered in campus offices, Tolkien did his academic writing in his study. He saved much of this work for nighttime hours, toiling until the early morning while the family slept. Tolkien encouraged his children to visit his study at any hour, unless he was meeting with a professor or student. Tolkien was never too busy to set aside his pen and delight in his children’s hijinks. 

Indeed, Tolkien found his children invigorating, and the world is a better place for it. For all his academic gravitas, Tolkien’s greatest works emerged not from his workmanlike studies of Anglo-Saxon literature but from the stories he crafted to feed his children’s imaginations.

Storyteller

Tolkien loved entertaining his children with tales of fantastic characters. Every Christmas, Tolkien wrote his children illustrated letters from Father Christmas. The letters recount the adventures of Father Christmas and his helpers, including an elvish secretary and a polar bear. Each was delivered by mail with North Pole stamps and postage designed by Tolkien.

But Tolkien’s most inspired work came at bedtime. Every evening, as the children prepared for sleep, Tolkien would tell them stories about a world torn between good and evil. Elves, dwarves, and hobbits squared off nightly against orcs and goblins. Wizards, giant spiders, and talking trees joined the fray, tipping the balance this way and that. The fantasy world grew ever more complicated and compelling, and the children were hooked.

Tolkien’s stories went far beyond the light-hearted fare in published children’s books. Tolkien shared his friend C.S. Lewis’s opinion that “[a] children’s story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children’s story in the slightest.” So he created stories that were, in son Michael’s later telling, “infinitely more exciting and much funnier” than typical children’s books. Tolkien drew the children in, inviting them to be part of a fantasy world alive with detail.

By introducing his children to the dangerous and challenging world of Middle Earth, Tolkien expressed a central tenet of his worldview: that children are intelligent, capable, and—above all—curious people worthy of adult respect. Tolkien’s professional circles were full of scholars who occupied the highest floors of the ivory tower. Yet Tolkien never viewed children as a class apart from these serious types—to be tolerated and indulged but never seriously engaged. “Children aren’t a class.” Tolkien explained. “They are merely human beings at different stages of maturity. All of them have a human intelligence which even at its lowest is a pretty wonderful thing, and the entire world in front of them.”

Collaborator

Although Tolkien first told his children tales of Middle Earth in the 1920s, he did not begin writing them until 1930. Tolkien was inspired, as always, by one of his children, Christopher, who complained one evening about his father’s inconsistent memory for details. To satisfy the young stickler, Tolkien began writing his first masterpiece, The Hobbit.

The going was slow—Tolkien spent nearly eight years working on his manuscript—but Tolkien involved his children in every step of the process. He wrote sections in the early morning, before his academic work, then read them aloud as the evening’s bedtime stories. As sons Michael and Christopher grew older, Tolkien invited them to help proofread and type the manuscript from his handwritten notes. Tolkien paid his sons two pennies for every error they found when reading the document.

This collaboration strengthened Tolkien’s bond with his children. Rather than shutting his children out of his creative process, Tolkien drew them in and gave them important roles in shaping his output. The hours he spent reviewing and discussing the manuscript kept the storytelling alive even after the children began to outgrow bedtime stories with dad. It also allowed him to teach his children important skills like creative writing, composition, and proofreading. 

In 1937, Tolkien submitted his manuscript to a publisher, dedicating the work to his children. The Hobbit was a massive success, which sold out its first printing almost immediately. Tolkien followed this work with other books on Middle Earth, including the Lord of the Rings series, establishing himself as a true master of fantasy fiction.

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Like Bilbo Baggins, we can learn a lot by following this gray master’s lead. Tolkien’s efforts to balance work and family remind us of the importance of spending time with our children. His mad pedalling between home and campus demonstrates that even when we’re busy we can carve out family time by making it part of our daily routine.

Tolkien’s storytelling highlights the importance of encouraging children’s sense of wonder. Kids want to know about the world, and we as fathers (and mothers) are their first and most important teachers. We don’t have to be master worldbuilders like Tolkien to meet this challenge. We just need to follow Tolkien’s lead by listening to our kids, being receptive to their curiosity, and talking to them about whatever catches their attention. 

Finally, Tolkien’s collaborative writing process teaches us that we build enduring bonds by opening our lives to our children rather than siloing them into a world apart. Tolkien’s son Michael expressed this well in remarking on his father’s death: “I, together with my two brothers and sisters, have not only lost a father who retained a close interest in every detail of our lives . . . but a friend of half a century’s standing, for he possessed the rare talent of combining fatherhood and friendship.”