The Three Authors and the Silent Jurors

The following court case took place in an unidentified municipal building. All names and
details pertaining to the case are true, and as reality would have it, the truth remains
obscured. Picture a deliberation room with twelve jurors. Three of the jurors are given
names; though the remaining nine jurors might speak, they are titled “Silent Jurors”
because their arguments hold no weight. Keep in mind Silent Juror No. 4 and Silent
Juror No. 9 because their silence speaks volumes.

MAIN CHARACTERS

TOLKIEN: A foolishly brave and stupidly clever old man concerned with honor and courage
in the face of adversity. Devoutly Roman Catholic and obstinately in favor of enjoying life’s
comforts.

LEWIS:  Tall, fat, rather bald, red-faced, double-chinned, black-haired, has a deep voice, and
wears glasses for reading. Irish, Christian, and believes in magic.

O’CONNOR: American Roman Catholic woman with dark humor. Pities the lame. Hates
hypocrites. Secretly attracted to tattooed men.

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: A sketchy man who only left his basement so he would not be jailed
for ignoring his jury summons.

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: Man. Atheist.

[22 minutes have passed since the jurors began deliberating. They sit around a long, rectangular
table in the jury room. Tolkien acts as foreperson to the displeasure of Silent Juror NO. 9.]

TOLKIEN: Yes, but were his actions based on revenge or honor?

LEWIS: Either way, he decided to play God and take matters into his own hands. What is good
for one person may not be good for all of humanity.

O’CONNOR: Good, you say? Do you mean objectively good or generically good?

LEWIS: Isn’t generically good also objectively good?

O’CONNOR: That’s a very hypocritical Southern Baptist question.

LEWIS: Actually, I’m a Christian.

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: What ill-constituted man allowed a person who believes in the
imaginary to be on a jury? It never occurred to them that reason is based on reality?

LEWIS: If imaginary implies things that aren’t visible to the untrained eye then I will gladly
submit to that characterization. But, have you ever thought about where objective reasoning,
the knowledge of right and wrong, comes from?

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: …

TOLKIEN: Alright, let’s get back to the facts of the case. Was the murder premeditated, or did
he commit it out of passion?

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: Of course it was premeditated. He pondered and plotted it for days on
end until he finally decided to carry out his revenge and murder the son of a knave.

TOLKIEN: What’s a knave?

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: You.

[Awkward silence ensues.]

LEWIS: [Hesitantly.] To answer your question, Tolkien, I do not think the murder was
premeditated. Rather, it was involuntary because he never intended to kill. He only intended to
humiliate.

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: [His eyes bulge, and he stands with his arms akimbo.] HA! HA!
HA! Man really is stupid, phenomenally stupid! What you miss, Lewis and Tolkien, is that
his actions were based solely on proving to himself that he is a man capable of satisfying his
desire for revenge!

TOLKIEN: But what about justi…

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: Were you going to say justice? Justice is meaningless. There is no
real justice. Revenge cannot be satiated.

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: Everything is meaningless because we live in a world void of
meaning.

[173 minutes have passed since the jurors began deliberating. Everyone wants to reach a
verdict, but no one can agree on whether he is guilty.]

TOLKIEN: Please return to the matter at hand. Is he guilty of commiting murder?

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: Not guilty.

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: Agreed.

LEWIS: I think both of you have bent reasoning. By the laws based on justice, he should
have taken his case to the court instead of taking matters into his own hands.

O’CONNOR: [Pointing to Silent Juror NO. 4.] Is that a tattoo on your shoulder?

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: Yes, it’s a diamond-encrusted snake. What’s it to you?

O’CONNOR: Vanity of Vanities. The Devil has wrapped himself around your arm.

TOLKIEN: Everyone, stay on topic. I have tea time scheduled for nine o’clock, and
I would hate to miss it.

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: Tea? You’ve got to be kidding me.

LEWIS: [Loudly clears his throat.] As I said before, he thought of himself as a little God
and neglected to consider humanity. Therefore, he is guilty.

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: Humanity means nothing!

LEWIS: Then why are you even here? If humanity means nothing, if justice means nothing,
if life means nothing… why do you even care?

SILENT JUROR NO. 4: …

TOLKIEN: So, do we all agree that he is guilty?

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: There’s not a chance in Hades that I would ever agree with that.
The facts are clear. He is innocent. The end.

LEWIS: What’s your reasoning?

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: For one thing, life is meaningless, and if life means nothing then he
did not commit a crime.

LEWIS: For what purpose are people put on earth then?

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: I am an atheist, so I don’t believe people were “put” on the earth.
We were just here from the beginning.

LEWIS: Would it not be more beneficial and rational to believe God exists. If you believe,
you’ve got the possibility of Heaven. If you don’t believe, you have nothing or the possibility
of eternal life in the flames of Hell.

SILENT JUROR NO. 9: …

O’CONNOR: The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.

[Lewis looks over at Tolkien. Tolkien looks over at O’Connor. All of the Silent Jurors nod in
assent.Tolkien brings the verdict to the judge.]

A Lethal Combination

    The news this week featured eleven public heroes who were honored and received awards for performing noble acts in the line of duty. When a reporter asked a fire safety officer why he risked his life to walk into a burning building to evacuate residents against the odds of making it out alive, the officer responded, “I’m not really sure. It was just kind of an impulse that told me to go in there and save as many people as I could. I don’t know how to describe it.” Acts of heroism often seem unexplainable because they contradict man’s survivalist instincts. People often define “noble” as “selfless,” but that definition seems misleading because man’s natural tendencies lean toward self-preservation. So, what makes man challenge natural instincts to perform noble deeds? In The Children of Húrin, J.R.R. Tolkien creates a character named Túrin whose attributes exemplify the components it takes to commit acts of bravery. While fighting against the doomed fate that confronts him around every corner, Túrin’s mixed composition of fear and pride empower him to risk his life to resist evil forces while simultaneously acting as a personality crutch that leads to his eventual downfall.
    Túrin’s complex temperament initially materializes when he chooses to leave Doriath after the death of Saeros instead of facing King Thingol’s judgment. Túrin’s concealed fear prevails in Tolkien’s statement, “But Túrin was weary of the Elven-halls, and he feared lest he be held captive” (91). Although Thingol and Melian considered Túrin their foster-son, Túrin never felt comfortable in Doriath. Túrin’s reluctance no doubt stemmed from the difficult circumstances he endured so early in his youth: the captivity of his father, the death of his sister, and the departure from his mother. To a man brimming with pride like Túrin, captivity seems worse than death because it restrains free will and reduces life to worthlessness. Túrin’s decision to leave Doriath sparked a major turning point in his life. His choice brings him on a tumultuous journey where he endeavors to fight the darkness surrounding him. Although, as the tale progresses, the reader sees that Túrin’s fear and pride often drive him to commit malevolent deeds instead of contributing to the fight against evil.
     Another critical event in Túrin’s life that illustrates his disposition arises in the accidental killing of Beleg. Tolkien sums up Beleg’s death in the lines, “Then Túrin roused into a sudden wakefulness of rage and fear, and seeing a form bending over him in the gloom with a naked blade in hand he leapt up with a great cry, believing that Orcs were come again to torment him … and slew Beleg Cúthalion thinking him a foe” (154). Túrin, laying unconscious, woke while Beleg attempted to cut Túrin’s bonds with a sword. In the veil of night, Túrin mistook Beleg for an Orc and killed Beleg in “rage and fear” before realizing his true identity. Túrin’s actions did not solely result from a fear of Orcs. If Túrin’s mind merely housed fear, he would have cowered in the face of his enemy. Instead, he “leapt up with a great cry,” meaning his actions in part emanated from prideful determination. Túrin’s impromptu slaying, the by-product of a lethal dose of fear and pride, contributed to the cloud of darkness that enshrouded him and ultimately led to his fateful death by the same sword.
     In one of Túrin’s final declarations of defiance against the darkness, he converts his fear into pride to defeat the Dragon. Before battle with Glaurong, Túrin proclaims in third person, “For now you are alone, O Master of Doom, as you should have known it must be. Now conquer alone!” (Tolkien 237). Túrin does not allow the reality of being alone in the face of a fire-breathing dragon dampen his spirit. He acknowledges the intimidating reality and transforms his fear into a catalyst for completing his mission. After Túrin’s proclamation, Tolkien writes, “Then he summoned to him all his will, and all his hatred of the Dragon and his Master, and it seemed to him that suddenly he found strength of heart and of body that he had not known before” (237). In order to mask his fear, Túrin consciously summons his propensity towards pride and engineers it to propel him forth into successfully defeating the Dragon. In spite of triumphantly conquering Glaurong, Túrin in the heat of pride insisted on recovering his sword and fell unconscious after touching the dragon’s venom, contributing to the death of Níniel.
     Túrin aptly summarizes his mixed personality when he states, “My father is not afraid, and I will not be; or at least, as my mother, I will be afraid and not show it” (Tolkien 43). Túrin exists in the history of Middle-earth as a noble figure. The noble acts Túrin performed did not stem from selfless ambitions; rather, his makeup consists of innate fear and pride, the result of rough-and-tumble familial traits and unfortunate circumstances that hardened his mind. Even though Túrin’s life existed in a world dominated by immense evil, he still managed to hone his inescapable doom to contribute to the good of Middle-earth. If Túrin can make a difference in an ill-fated life, we as children of God can certainly make a difference in this world. After all, our side consists of the almighty God: a stronghold in the day of trouble, a light in the darkness, and a refuge in the storm

Walking, Dead Roots

You can have too little or too much of me. I can hurt you and help you. What am I? If T.S. Eliot were asked the same riddle, his reply would sound something to the effect of, “(insert cryptic reference followed by a second baffling allusion) … Adam’s ale … (insert another mystifying reference just to make it parallel).” The reader would then have to infer after rereading the passage twenty times that Eliot meant water. Because so much of Eliot’s writing in The Wasteland contains references and allusions the audience needs a cipher to understand, the reader often finds it hard to grasp the underlying themes. Even when the audience starts to piece together the puzzle, the remaining pieces seem like round edges trying to fit into rectangular spaces. One instance where Eliot leaves his readers bewildered exists in the water riddle. Drinking water sustains life, but drowning causes death. Consuming too little water leads to dehydration. Nevertheless, water in baptism symbolizes rebirth. Eliot uses water’s contradictory properties in The Wasteland as a symbol of life and death in Western civilization during the 20th century.

            Eliot suggests that though the end of winter and the beginning of spring rains generally produce feelings of life and renewal, spring generates the opposite response in the people of Western civilization. Eliot writes that April consists of “dull roots with spring rain” (4). Because people have become stiffened to life, they essentially act as dull roots. When the rain hits the roots, they do not absorb any water to grow new flowers. Foregoing their purpose on earth, the roots contribute nothing to life; they only take up space and remain subject to nature. Eliot published The Wasteland after World War I, so society was still recovering from war’s trauma, causing the traumatic events to harden people. When happiness did come along, it could not touch people because they were too numb to emotion to recognize the joys of life. Like the roots refusing to absorb water and fulfill their purpose in life, people treated their existence as nothing and rejected any meaning Earth or Heaven had to offer them. Even though Eliot has 20th-century Western civilization in mind, his observations still apply today. Without a purpose to existence, no reason exists to seek self-betterment or to further society. People would just be a bunch of walking, dead roots blind to the renewal and life of spring rains.   

            In the section of the poem titled “Death by Water,” Eliot warns youth to pay attention to their mortality instead of hopelessly following life’s desires. Eliot describes the tale of a young man named Phlebas the Phoenician sailor who died at sea (312-321). When Phlebas died, he entered a whirlpool where “He passed the stages of his age and youth” (317). This sentence suggests that the whirlpool represents the constant motion of life. Even though Phlebas drowned and departed life, his desires continue to drag him around, so he cannot find satisfaction in death. Phlebas’ death results from water, but the water also symbolizes Phlebas’ life. Similar to Western civilization’s muddled view of April rains, the water in this section represents both life and death since Phlebas foolishly regarded life as insignificant, essentially treating life like death. Eliot ends “Death by Water” with the lines, “O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, / Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you” (320-321). The section concludes with a challenge to the youth of the world. Everyone holds the wheel to his or her own life, free to turn it in any direction. Although, as Eliot emphasizes, youth and life do not last forever, so living a meaningful life beats chasing worthless pleasures.

            The most noticeable instance of water prevails in Eliot’s frenzied reiterance of the contradictory nature of life and death in Western civilization. The theme develops in the lines, “He who was living is now dead / We who were living are now dying” (228-229). In both lines, life results in death, providing a bleak outlook on existence. The hopeless perspective repeats itself in the sentences, “Here is no water but only rock / Rock and no water and the sandy road” (331-332). Eliot portrays the lack of water as negative, a sort of destruction that creates a desolate, dead land. Nevertheless, water’s absence does not persist; water finally makes an appearance: “In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust / Bringing rain” (393-394). Despite water’s representation of death, water comes like a saving grace to the dry land. Even though the people of Western civilization considered life worthless, they seemed to cling to life. Eliot uses the repetition of “Shantih” in the last line of the poem to imply that no matter how much people seek death and destruction, water and life truly do bring beauty and meaning. In other words, a meaningful life results in the peace that passes all understanding.

            Eliot speaks directly to 20th-century civilization, but all of his observations pertain to the current generation as well. Individuals in today’s society walk around like zombies thirsting after their own pleasures, leading to an anxious, unsteady civilization. Eliot frowns upon a Nietzschean perspective that highlights and emphasizes life’s lack of value. Life does not have to equal death. By creating a foundation on Christ, one can base existence on a solid structure and fill life’s void, being born again through water in Christ and experiencing eternal life in Heaven. Philippians 4:7 sums up Eliot’s point: “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (King James Version).

Bitter, Alone, and Underground

A wise professor once said, “Do not characterize someone as crazy until you have just cause.” With those words of wisdom in mind, I began reading Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Notes from Underground with an open mind, refusing to categorize the Underground Man as batty until I stumbled upon justifiable proof. Contrary to popular opinion about the Underground Man’s sanity, I discovered more cause to validate his lucidity than his lunacy. I found the Underground Man to be satisfyingly radical, yet rational and relatable at the same time. His character seemed difficult to simplify, but I finally stumbled upon a fitting classification. Dostoevsky created a character who believes in nothingness, but also recognizes the unattainable somethingness. To put it in academic terms, the Underground Man embodies existential nihilism. Existentialism and nihilism represent similar, but essentially contradictory, philosophies. Existentialism recognizes one’s freedom to create a meaningful life in a meaningless universe while nihilism argues that both the universe and life lack value. Nonetheless, existential nihilism can actually be defined as optimistic nihilism. This philosophical approach suggests that though the world lacks intrinsic meaning, one can create superficial meaning to life. In Notes from Underground, the Underground Man illustrates existential nihilism by acknowledging and rejecting the shallow roles idealistic values play in society.

The Underground Man’s decision to convey his overt consciousness in the form of a mouse provides a judicious example of existential nihilism. Regarding his personal characteristics, the Underground Man states, “if, for example, one takes the antithesis of the normal man, that is, the man of heightened consciousness, who came, of course, not from the bosom of nature but from a retort … this retort man sometimes folds before his antithesis so far that he honestly regards himself as, with all his heightened consciousness, as a mouse and not a man” (Dostoevsky 10). The Underground Man chooses one of the smallest mammals to use as a comparison, which provides a direct reflection of how insignificant he views himself in the entirety of nature. Although the Underground Man perceives himself as minuscule, he still recognizes the small role he plays within society. Even a measly herbivorous mouse holds the ecosystem together by linking predator and plants and sustaining animals of prey. The fact that the Underground Man acknowledges his position in the world, however infinitesimal it may be, suggests existential nihilism rather than simply existentialism or nihilism because he recognizes the somethingness he embodies but does not see it as a position of promotion. The Underground Man’s attitude toward his existence contradicts the way people both within Dostoevsky's time period and in modern society view man’s place in creation, that is, as the dominant figure on earth.

Existential nihilism also manifests itself in the Underground Man’s position on the hindrance and acceptance of the laws of nature. The Underground Man admits, “Nature doesn’t ask your permission … You’re obliged to accept it as it is, and consequently all its results as well. And so a wall is indeed a wall” (Dostoevsky 13). The Underground Man acknowledges the solidity of the laws of nature. After all, a sturdy wall, especially one made of concrete components, provides a barrier that cannot be overcome by a man of mediocre strength. Upon further reasoning, the Underground Man rationalizes, “I won’t break through such a wall with my forehead if I really have not got strength enough to do it, but neither will I be reconciled with it simply because I have a stone wall here and have not got strength enough” (Dostoevsky 13). The Underground Man yields to his incapacity to overcome the laws of nature, thus admitting nature’s hold over man. Nevertheless, he also suggests that nature’s limit on man’s abilities does not utterly negate man’s power. The Underground Man reveals he would not be satisfied with the impossibility of overcoming the wall, permitting himself the power to reason, even if it proves futile. A “normal” man, as Dostoevsky words it, would accept the wall as a wall. Existential nihilism allows the Underground Man to be aware of the wall’s resoluteness, but it does not enable him to be reconciled with the wall’s resistance.

The Underground Man further demonstrates existential nihilism by analyzing and contradicting the principles of mathematics. The Underground Man states, “I agree that two times two is four is an excellent thing; but if we’re going to start praising everything, then two times two is five is sometimes also a most charming little thing” (Dostoevsky 34). The Underground Man concedes to the undeniable fact that two times two equals four. However, similar to his view on the solidity of a stone wall, he disagrees with life being determined by the laws of nature. He believes that man has free will to dispute logic and reason on the basis of not being powerless against natural rules. The Underground Man refuses to console himself with a wall’s durability; neither will he accept mathematical methods solely because they remain established. One indication of existentialism prevails in the Underground Man’s recognition of man’s power to challenge nature. He summarizes his view on man’s capability in this statement: “Consciousness, for example, is infinitely higher than two times two” (Dostoevsky 35). Nihilism also exists in the Underground Man’s ideals because man can believe in irrational concepts like two times two equals five, but it does not grant the surmise any validity against the majority’s belief in reason and order.

Dostoevsky seems to create a character that embraces, with a bitter tongue, man’s superficial desire and need to subject themselves to the caprice of their free will. Notwithstanding, he views the universe as meaningless because the power it contains does not contribute to man’s desires, but only hinders man from overcoming the laws of nature. Readers who scan Notes from Underground on the surface may view the Underground Man as a bit crazy, but dissecting his beliefs sheds light on the basis of his convictions. In the midst of the glories of God’s creation and the profundities of the world, man sometimes feels an overwhelming sense of being a mouse among a herd of elephants. Mankind’s determination to overcome obstacles means that we do not accept a wall as wall, even if it means fighting reason. Not to mention, we argue concrete laws like two times two equals five just for the pleasure of it. So, do not cringe upon finding yourself nodding along to the Underground Man’s relatable claims. It does not mean you will end up bitter, alone, and underground. It just proves that you are a highly conscious being constantly entangled in the struggle between reason and irrationality.