As midterm deadlines loom (I feel as though I’ve blinked and suddenly I’m up to my ears in philosophy papers), there comes a time to place your faith in niche intersections of nerdy interests as a powerful revitaliser. On this occasion, I humbly draw your attention to two men (I know, hear me out) who have respectively been personal hyper-fixations since the age of thirteen: Plato and Tolkien.
A wrestler, poet and philosopher, Plato lived approximately 2,372 years ago, yet the echoes of his legacy reverberate still today – mostly because of people like me, who won’t shut up about him. Tolkien, who died a modest 2,330 years afterward, must also have been at least a little bit as obsessed as I have – on occasion – known to be, given some of the fundamentals of his pivotal fantasy stories have their roots in Platonic works.
In one of my first ever lectures at university, I sat avidly listening about Plato – first thing on a Monday morning, might I add – when I had what can only be described as an epiphanic moment. All it took was a quick, absent comment by my lecturer – “this was probably the basis of the premise of the One Ring, btw” – and I had to forcibly suppress a maniacal grin and a cackle.
Tolkien was first and foremost an academic. His fantastical works are heavily steeped in Norse, Celtic and other Germanic mythologies – adapted, repurposed and combined to form the rich tapestry of Middle Earth and its various languages. In addition to this, it is widely considered that the concept of the One Ring, upon which most of his works’ ethics are steeped, stems from a story told by the character Glaucon in book two of the Republic, Plato’s seminal work.
Plato’s concern with virtues such as justice, knowledge and goodness resonate within the moral messaging of Tolkien’s works, particularly of The Lord of the Rings. In the Republic, Glaucon argues that people only act justly out of fear of repercussion; to do this, hereferences the famous tale of the shepherd Gyges.
Gyges found a golden ring on a human skeleton, nestled away in an ominous crevice causedby an earthquake. He took this ring and discovered that it makes its wearer invisible – Gyges then used this ring in increasingly nefarious ways, culminating in the seduction of the queen and usurpation of the king. This tale, Glaucon supposes, demonstrates a fundamental predisposition toward injustice in people when they are left to their own devices, unchecked and unchallenged.
In a Tolkienite framework, the resemblance is clear: Sméagol does not even have to touch the Ring to succumb to his self-interest, resulting in his degradation to murderer, liar, cheat and outcast. Even though the character of Socrates in the Republic – Plato’s functional mouthpiece – rebuts the idea with the claim that justice is what is best for souls (so the rational and measured will naturally pursue what is just), the moralistic rhetoric of the tale of Gyges rings clear in The Lord of the Rings.
After all of this, you might question: why on earth is Plato my favourite philosopher? There are two honest answers to this question, one decidedly more unflattering to my integrity than the other. The shameful answer is that he was the first philosopher I ever heard of, and I just can’t let go of him – even if I find a lot of what he says to be absolutely mental. The slightly more appropriate answer, depending on your social circles, is that without Plato, there would be no Lord of the Rings. I feel that’s reason enough for anyone to love him.