Goldberry

[Priya]

Goldberry, Goldberry ... fair lady Goldberry ... ah my favorite character!

Terence Tiller of the BBC once asked Tolkien:

“… Goldberry … ‘But who is she?’ ”.
– The J.R.R. Tolkien Companion and Guide 2017 Edition, Chronology, 12 December 1955, C. Scull & W. Hammond (italicized emphasis on ‘is’)

To our knowledge, barring the obvious, a reply was never given. Tolkien intuitively, I suspect, knew Tiller desired something else. His question was one whose sense often overlaps with another. Tiller really wanted to know ‘What is she?’.

Though some consider Goldberry to be just as enigmatic as Tom, I believe we can figure her out. To that end, I think what we need to do is:

a) Look at her portrayal from an altogether different angle; indeed from a botanical viewpoint.
b) Nail down both the in-mythology and out-of- mythology source of her name.
c) Construct her story, for to Tolkien - there was usually a story behind a name.
d) Determine the type of being she represented within the mythology.

So to the first on the list:

At our first encounter with Goldberry in LotR, I suggest we read her description, close our eyes and then attempt to pensively visualize unconventionally. We should try and think in terms of the imagery put out by Tolkien.

Perhaps we should try employing the ‘Mooreeffoc’ principle, for fantasy creation, Tolkien identified in On Fairy-stories and strive to see what might have become banal from a new perspective. And so if we focus on that alluring introductory paragraph, a metaphorical portrait of something other than a woman might mentally form:

“… yellow hair rippled down her shoulders; her gown was green, green as young reeds, shot with silver like beads of dew; … About her feet … white water-lilies were floating, …”.
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

In Goldberry’s initial posture what the Professor predominantly depicted was a mass of wavy yellow hair shouldered atop a glistening green gown raised above what seemed like a watery bed of buoyant white lilies:

“… so that she seemed to be enthroned in the midst of a pool.”
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Her limbs were not mentioned, nor the color of her eyes, nor any part of her face at this initial description. All of this is so much in contrast to Tom, whom Tolkien happily described at outset as possessing: “thick legs”, “eyes”that “were blue”, and a “face … red as a ripe apple, … creased into a hundred wrinkles”. Yes, we have a curious divergence for Goldberry from past practice.

So if we think thoughtfully and work with scenic imagery of a natural pool Tolkien himself provided us – our slender-figured hostess, I deem, epitomized the very essence of a water-lily. No – not one of the white variety. But instead, a fully bloomed yellow lily – whose wavy-petaled head sat atop a single green water-spattered stalk risen well above the water with roots (represented by her feet) anchored below its surface. By leaving out (in that opening narrative) facial features, skin color and any mention of limbs – Tolkien left us articulate worded artistry emblematic of a special flower. The gold belt, chair and her lofty position seem to figuratively signify that she was indeed an “enthroned … queen” of all Withywindle water-lilies, who had once reigned supreme in her shady pool. Such a motif can be reasonably perceived for our fair Goldberry. Of course with some lateral imagination!

Yellow water-lilies towering over White water-lilies*

* Extract from ‘Convent Thoughts’, Charles Allston, c. 1850 – Exhibited at The Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.


Comments and criticism are most welcome!

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: Aye, Goldberry, if you have a look at Tolkien Gateway, is a riverspirit in the idea of Ulmo's gathering/following. Her nature has indeed a botanic viewpoint. Eru created the spirits from his Flame Imperisable, and were known as the Ainur, the greater of them were the Valar, and the lesser the Maiar (Account Valar/Maiar of the Elven Lore, Silmarillion). In the text on the webpage there is a 'perhaps' that Goldberry is a Maia waterspirit. Spirits are associated with a certain element or physical phenomenon. Spirits (Tolkien's Maiar can take on a humanised form of sorts). For me Gateway was always a good recommedation and links resources where to find the information back. Sadly there is not much information on Goldberry. But I guess there is enough to derive an answer from.

In Letter 210 Tolkien wrote that Goldberry "represents the actual seasonal changes in (river-lands)". There is no etymology on her name on the page. So this have to be done by ourselves, if possible. There aren't many berries in a yellow or golden colour. There are the gooseberries from Chile and Peru and come from the Physalis fruit family. I have no idea if this berry could have been an inspiration for the name of Goldberry?

These are my two cents on the matter, that I feel and think about Goldberry, just like her mother, was a waterspirit in the ghost of Ulmo, and maybe a follower of Yavanna too, she was responsible for all things to grow in Middle-Earth. Goldberry got a love or passion for waterlilies. Like Bombadil she is also enigma, a mystery.

NB: Inspirational picture!

[Priya]

Hello Aiks

Thanks for pointing me back to the Tolkien Gateway - it’s been a while since I read about Goldberry. Yes, unfortunately there’s not a lot that can be gleaned about her, beyond what’s obvious. But, I agree, she definitely has a botanical side. I’m glad you liked the picture. It is a segment from a painting which hangs in the Ashmolean Museum*, Oxford. Because the Professor had a professional interest in The Ancrene Riwle – a medieval book for aspiring nuns, I think it’s quite likely to have been picked out and pored over closely by him.

‘Convent Thoughts’, Charles Allston Collins, c.1850

Getting back to the yellow water-lily, the plant is indigenous to Oxfordshire waters. Unquestionably Tolkien knew of the yellow water-lily’s existence. It is mentioned in the Appendix (pg. 248) to The Book of Lost Tales I as ‘nénu’ in early Elvish. The species also has a strong connection to classic nymph mythology. In Tolkien’s ‘most treasured book’ it’s sub-categorized under Nymphǽa:

“Yellow Water-lily … Named from its growing in places which the nymphs were supposed to haunt.”
– Flowers of the Field, Nymphæáceæ – Water-Lily Family – pg. 23, C.A. Johns, 33rd Edition, 1911 (my underlined emphasis)

And though I don’t have definitive proof, there’s a very good chance that Tolkien read about it.


Lilies are quite commonly depicted in paintings with nymphs. For example, we see both the yellow and white varieties present in John Waterhouse’s masterpiece.

‘Hylas and the Nymphs’, John William Waterhouse, 1896

One of the early members of the Pre-Raphaelites (a group of visual and literary artists) was William Morris (a fellow Exeter College graduate) whose prose, poetry and pattern designs Tolkien became greatly familiar with. Tolkien bought Morris’s The Life and Death of Jason, 1867 with his Walter Skeat Prize money in 1914. Within Book IV (titled The quest begun – The loss of Hylas and Hercules) the fate of Hylas is versified in quite some detail. Thus, it is highly likely Tolkien was aware of Hylas.


The tale of Hylas and his hapless encounter with the alluring water-nymphs is worth briefly repeating here, for it tells of the Greek mythology behind the yellow water-lily. The summary below is disseminated from Flower Lore and Legend, The Water Lily, 1917 by Katharine Beals.


After landing on an island in the expedition of the Argonauts to wrest away the Golden Fleece, the youth Hylas – beloved of Hercules – becomes separated. The nymph Lotus, once spurned by Hercules, had been transformed out of pity by the goddess Hebe into a white water-lily. Lotus takes revenge by having her naiads (water nymphs of a spring, river or waterfall) lure Hylas into their pool of lilies where he is pulled in and held fast. The entirely white lilies of the naiads subsequently become tinted gold – the identifying color of the Argonauts – giving rise to the mythical origin of the yellow water-lily.


Hylas being pulled in by the water-nymphs reminds me of Goldberry doing the same to Tom in the poetry: The Adventures of Tom Bombadil. So, are we uncovering some of the roots of Goldberry’s makeup here? Do you folk see some resemblances?



* Tolkien once actually worked in the museum for the OED (NED).

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: With the classical nature of lectures during most lessons of history, geography, maths, physics, biology and even languages in secondary school (12 - 17 years), all the way into 1990's, it is highly unlikely that Tolkien as linguistic professor was not aware of Greek mythology from an young age.

But on Hylas, does his encounter with the nymphs also emulate on his escape of does he drown? That detail I am missing as this does not happen to Bombadil, that he drowns and Goldberry sets him free. If not, Tolkien has this detail perhaps from another source or he made it up himself?

[Priya]

Hello Aiks

From what I understand, Hylas drowned. Such a result is not an uncommon outcome in human and mythical merwomen encounters. Nixies of Teutonic mythology and the Mary-Morgan principally from Breton folklore have also been depicted as drowning humans. Of course, Tolkien didn’t have Goldberry carry on her cavorting with Tom to such an extent, Once again, I think we need to bear in mind some well-phrased insight by Jason Fisher. He basically remarked (and to me it’s agreeable) that not every characteristic in Tolkien’s tale was going to match-up to our real world. At both higher and lower levels:

“Tolkien’s works are deliberately complex and multi-layered, drawing on many traditions, … The principal conceit of Tolkien’s legendarium is that it stands as a lost prehistoric tradition, of which the many myths and legends we know in our own primary world are meant (fictively, by Tolkien) to be echoes, fragments, and transformations.”
– Tolkien and the Study of His Sources, Tolkien and Source Criticism: Remarking and Remaking – pg. 40, J. Fisher, 2011

John Bowers believes seeding was accomplished through:

“… the author’s habitual practice of working through early English texts to trace their “deep roots” back to some hypothetical prehistory.”
– Tolkien Studies Vol 8, Tolkien’s Goldberry and The Maid of the Moor, J. Bowers, 2011

And Aiks I agree with you that the Professor’s schooling in Greek gave him familiarity with Greek legends. Even though Bowers (above) has singled out early English texts, I reckon he gleaned an awful lot from much later books.

————

Anyhow, returning to TLotR and our first physical meeting with Tom’s spouse – quite possibly Tolkien enhanced the first encounter’s visual imagery by audible means in the construed departure from the center of the ‘indoor pond’. To greet her guests, for they were on ‘land’, Goldberry had to metaphorically first pass the water’s edge:

“… her gown rustled softly like the wind in the flowering borders of a river.”
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Beyond that initial contact, perceptible is even more subtle artistry lying behind features of the guest sleeping quarters. For one might conceivably imagine the long bench at the far side of the room surrounded by an atmosphere of misty steam – as a fog-shrouded riverbank from afar. Especially since earlier, while in the Old Forest, we are told:

“White mists began to rise and curl on the surface of the river and stray … upon its borders. Out of the very ground … steam arose …”.
– The Fellowship of the Ring, The Old Forest

And then the ‘penthouse’ interior:

“… walls … were mostly covered with green hanging mats and yellow curtains. The floor was … strewn with fresh green rushes. There were four deep mattresses, each piled with white blankets, …”.
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Hmm … green mats profusely bedecking the walls furnished a verdant backdrop for yellow curtains covering the east and west facing windows. While green rushes spread upon the floor surrounded four individual mattresses over which white blankets were to be spread. A lot of yellow, green and white we can readily conclude. What’s more, colors that perfectly match both types of English water-lily.

So what effect, we ought to consider, results from the drawn curtains gently swaying now and again against the greenery?

“A little breath of sweet air moved the curtain.”
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

And then what about re-visualizing the mattresses covered in white blankets ruffled by the tucked-in hobbits?

Maybe we need to let our imaginations run wild! Perhaps some of us will have to try quite hard – but wasn’t the decor and atmosphere symbolically reminiscent of yet another natural water-scene? One set at nighttime? Might not one picture four closed up white lilies floating atop a rushy margin of a river with two of the yellow variety gently billowing close by!

Hmm … it appears mundane detail belied a sophisticated purpose. One so deftly executed it has seemingly escaped us all. Part of Goldberry’s lodging was aesthetically fashioned to be a home away from home!

I’m not quite done exploring river-setting imagery in Tom’s house. Because now we can see how Merry’s dream fits in. While asleep upon his ‘water-lily bed’ he imagines he is effectively slowly sinking:

“It was the sound of water that Merry heard falling into his quiet sleep: water streaming down gently, and then spreading, spreading irresistibly all round … into a dark shoreless pool. It … was rising slowly but surely. ‘I shall be drowned!’ he thought.”
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Just maybe Tolkien based the gradual submergence scene on a phenomenon exhibited by white water-lilies as outlined in a prized botany book. Known as phototrophs – being stimulated by light (or its absence):

“The flowers rise above the water in the middle of the day and expand, closing once more and sinking towards evening.”
– Flowers of the Field, Nymphæáceæ – Water-Lily Family – pg. 24, C.A. Johns, 33rd Edition, 1911

Nor should we forget that Tolkien declined to give the hobbits conventional beds. Mattresses purposely lain on the flagstone floor meant direct surface contact of ‘lilies to water’, thus giving the projected imagery more realism.

We must also note illustrations of little mythical creatures atop white water-lilies crop-up in several fairy tale books.

Extracts from ‘Thumbelina’ (Hans Andersen) & ‘In Fairyland’ (Richard Doyle)

‘Joan in Flowerland’, illustrated by Margaret Tarrant, 1935

Is the source of such a fairy tale hallmark - Tolkien’s tale? Do you agree? Was Mooreeffoc, which Tolkien placed some emphasis on in OFS, used in the creation of a particular form of fantasy. Did it play a role in the depiction of Goldberry, the Penthouse and Merry’s dream? Are some of you folk, seeing that there may be a different way of looking at Goldberry, her home and a hobbit’s sleep? All involving water-lilies!

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: Sad that Hylas died, but yes so are myths told at times. I read a few times through your post. True as Fisher comments, the legendarium stands as a (fictive) lost ancient tradition, albeit not prehistoric to me. Yes, till recently Greek mythology was part of the school programming, regardless middleschool or higher, or even university. It is also where your first real conscious touch with history begins. Or at least it was too me. Very interesting post you dipped out after my last questions.

"A home away from home..." Waterlilies are lovely plants to see, even in real. Yes, I see the picture you are sketching. Thanks. I know Thumbelina from the Anderson tales.

On your (rhetorical?) questions, if it is such a hallmark then Tolkien tried to set it right with Tom and Goldberry, how it should be, and not floating elves with wings, but floating and grounded at the same time. The Hobbits can literally touch this sensitive world around Goldberry, and it was always even friendly. In OFS Tolkien discuess all wrongness of use of this little elves. OFS is a defense for the historical position of fairy-tales and not something of nonsence. I wrote myself a summerising post on this essay.

Goldberry as Iarwain are two characters inside Tolkien's legendarium. They are not stepping out of it, if you mean this. Often enough they have been used as depictions, also by Tolkien in academic discussions. There are two types of deities, Valar and Maiar. I respect other thoughts and opinions about them both, but their natures are simply to me, they are both Ainur. I tend to bring Yavanna is the game with Goldberry, as part of her group of people. Yavanna is the one responsible for all growing things, so also the waterlilies of Goldberry. I think there is a not mentioned (by Tolkien and therefore speculation) bond between Yavanna and Goldberry.

The hobbit's sleep? Hobbit or not, one sleeps differently under the open heavens than in a bed with a roof over your head, boxed in by four walls. The sleep is invoked by the nature around the Hobbit, the whole setting, it is a home weaved from plant materials. There is no glass in the windows. The wind plays openly with the curtains. I think Tom's house is pretty home to dwell, feels inviting, when you read it, or so I do.

[Priya]

Hello Aiks

I’m so glad you can see the picture I’m painting around Goldberry. I thinks it’s part of the unrealized deeper substructure that the Professor wove into his tale. And nobody I know of, even scholars, have picked up on this. I’m sorry I didn’t completely address your questions. I do think there are other sources to Goldberry’s makeup. And I hope to reveal these in future posts.


As to some of your points:

Jason Fisher’s use of the word ‘prehistoric’ raised my eyebrows when I first read it. But I think to him, it meant ‘pre-history’ - i.e. before recorded history. Shall we give him the benefit of the doubt?

To my knowledge Tolkien’s race of ‘Elves’ have never had wings. And I think that, to me, Tolkien’s original depiction of Goldberry as a water-entity (per The Adventures of Tom Bombadil) - would mean it would be wrong to have endowed her with a set of wings - that is if she was essentially a ‘fairy-type’.

As the term ‘Maia’ did not appear in Tolkien’s vocabulary till the early 1950’s, what ‘entity types’ do you think Tom & Goldberry were conceived to be in their much earlier inclusion c. 1938 for TLotR?

I think we have to conclude Bombadil’s house did have glass windows:

“... Pippin lay dreaming ... the sound that had disturbed his dream: ... was like ... twig-fingers scraping wall and window: ....”. - The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil (my underlined emphasis)

and,

“‘Good morning, merry friends!’ cried Tom, opening the eastern window wide. A cool air flowed in; ...”. - The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

In any case - this is a minor matter!

.....

So given my previous post focusing on looking at the Bombadil episode from a ‘Mooreeffoc’ standpoint, I think some fairly beckoning revelations lie exposed before us. It’s tempting to conclude the Professor’s ability to:

“… visualize with great clarity … detail scenery and ‘natural’ objects, …”,
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #211 – 14 October 1958, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981 (Tolkien’s emphasis)

was carefully channeled into creating meaningful imagery. Principally river-vegetation imagery requiring interpretation from an ‘artistic’ angle before the reader could absorb and appreciate the true depth behind these vistas.

But what of the yellow water-lily? Are there any other clues which add some weight to my assessment that the plant was intricately connected to Goldberry?

Perhaps it’s best if I start off by exploring the ‘external’ source of her name. But to do that, I need to dispense with the obvious. We must acknowledge Tolkien’s direction on foreign translation where he conveyed the name was of compound composition: ‘Gold’ and ‘berry’. That is certainly the most natural interpretation of what the Professor meant by – ‘Translate by sense’:

“Goldberry. Translate by sense.”
– Guide to the Names in The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien

And this can be easily ascertained from the same being asked of translators in dealing with other two-part fabrications such as Smallburrow, Skinbark, Treebeard, Thistlewool, etc.

Given as much, my own inclination is that ‘Goldberry’ would probably have been named after a particular plant because of the ‘berry’ ending to her name. Most likely it would be an aquatic plant; and if so – one native to Oxford and Berkshire river environs. Because when it came to a range of habitats for Tom (and thus by inference – his partner), it was emphatically related the territorial basis of:

“ ‘… the flora & fauna are meant to be strictly Oxford & Berks’ …”.
– The J.R.R. Tolkien Companion and Guide 2006 Edition, Chronology, 8 May 1962, C. Scull & W. Hammond (my underlined emphasis)

Goldberry is of course associated to the Withywindle in the novel - which in turn, as some eminent scholars (such as Tom Shippey) have remarked, was almost certainly modeled on Oxford’s River Cherwell. Tom’s singing leaves us a decent clue in hinting that the color ‘gold’ is interchangeable with ‘yellow’:

“Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!”
– The Fellowship of the Ring, The Old Forest

So perhaps what we should focus on is vegetation that yields yellow berries common to river-lands in two specific English counties?

Yet maybe we should not get too obsessed with finding actual yellow berries - but instead, consider close imitations!

Then we ought to take look at our beguiling floral candidate again – but from a seasonal standpoint. And so if we scrutinize a queerly appealing perennial plant – there is most definitely one remarkable feature to the yellow water-lily’s life cycle. In Oxfordshire in late spring and early summer is when it begins budding. At this point it strongly resembles a berry. Yes a yellow berry; conceivably one might even say: a gold berry!

Yellow Water-lily Buds

Is it from this plant that Tolkien obtained the name: Goldberry?

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: Certainly I love it to learn from your point of view. I have been quietly reading through your post these last days to let sink in what you are discussing. It is okay you haven't covered yet all my questions, and take your time to search the evidence before sharing it. There is no hurry, and I am not leaving the site. (Some of my questions are quite rhetorical and not really one).

- Fisher... yes it is indeed another accent as you place it, before recorded history. It hasn't entered my mind yet to regard this. We could give him the benefit of the doubt.

- True, Tolkien's elves had never wings. I should have used perhaps the word "esotheric", but it didn't enter my mind in my last post.

Pre-1950? I feel Tolkien had a good idea in what categories Tom and Goldberry would be fitting, but he had not yet put a name to those kind of devine beings. If we can speculate this to be and if they are can be considered to be devine. What kind of entities? I think to put them in the idea to be godlike creatures, weaker or stronger. But if the moderators on the Tolkien Wiki post there is a possibility they are Ainur, and links to where to find this information, aye, I accept that it is a possible truth.

Yeah.. windows.

It is an excellent assessment on Goldberry's name. I agree it could be a local aquatic plant in the Oxford and Berkshire area. I believe I voiced somewhere above a bit about (post 21 Dec)? It could definitely be that waterlily plant, where you posted a picture off. I think you are not far from where Tolkien found the inspiration for the Goldberry name. Perhaps he wrote the chapter in rough lines by the place you mentioned? Or he made some photos? Or he made a drawing of it? Tolkien drew quite much and I have no doubt he used drawing to inspire and visualise himself better in the tales he wrote.

[Priya]

Hi Aiks

Thank you for your patience, interest and kind words. To be honest, a hectic social life and long hours working for a living, stop me from posting more frequently. Much of my research is already done, and at hand - but it’s best, I think, if I release it to the community in small chunks - as long essays tend to be boring. That way it can be readily absorbed - and I can get input, direction and criticism which hopefully improves upon our collective knowledge. But what I am trying to do is not regurgitate stuff that has been covered before over the years, but instead present ‘entirely new’ information from angles that have not yet been explored!

——-—

Now many who have read my previous posts will still be skeptical. Maybe because - since the days of early elvish vocabulary produced in the late 1910s early 1920s - the yellow water-lily hasn’t been explicitly mentioned by Tolkien in any subsequent works or letters. Nothing was given away by the Professor - even after TLotR was published. Not even the slightest hint of such a floral connection.

But I think the Professor was deliberately coy about our merry couple. He wanted them to remain enigmatic - even though he held the keys. However, quite remarkably I believe decent evidence exists that Middle-earth’s River Withywindle was a habitat for not only the White Water-lily, but also the yellow variety!

Now when it came to drawings and paintings Tolkien much admired the Englishman Arthur Rackham’s style. He once admitted a drawing he had made of Old Man Willow:

“… probably came in part from Arthur Rackham’s tree-drawings …”.
– Tolkien: A biography, The storyteller – pg. 162, H. Carpenter, 1977

Arthur Rackham, 1867-1939

And Wayne Hammond and Christina Scull (per J.R.R. Tolkien Artist & Illustrator – pg. 156) confirm that ‘Old Man Willow’ (a tree drawing) was sketched for reference purposes at the time of writing The Old Forest chapter.

Old Man Willow, by J.R.R. Tolkien

The season depicted in the drawing probably corresponds to the onset of autumn per the hobbits’ visitation in The Old Forest chapter. Quite bare willow branches and yellow leaves beginning to shed in quantity lend us reasonable clues. However when scrutinized, something catches my eye which is a matter of quite some importance!

Barely discernible on the right-hand side of the picture (in the River Withywindle) are three single green stems atop of which are yellow flowers; while adjacent to each stalk floats a broad leaf. Because the stems are located reasonably far in the flow (i.e. they are not riverbank flora) – one might deduce that Tolkien sketched in some yellow water-lilies (perhaps the last of the season), leaving a trace clue that this river-plant, was on his mind.

Excerpt from ‘Old Man Willow’

So Aiks - I believe you are right - Tolkien could well have subtly sketched out yellow water-lilies - as they might well have been on his mind. Nothing like picture evidence - in my opinion!

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: Skeptical? I wonder, do they understand what you are fleshing out? Your research goes pretty deep, I have noticed and costs time to read. You do it brilliantly I should say, detailed and thorough. We all have a job to work for, and travelling hours. Don't worry about it, left are enough hours to enjoy.

I take your word that our professor was deliberate with our merry couple. I have no idea myself, nor asked it as you do. But it is nice to put a highlight to it and review how he did it. If some chapters are coming hard on, there are alternative ways ot get what you want. Seek paintings of others is one; second, is to create a drawing of what is in your head, third describe in words how it exists in the head; fourth, go outside and seek something in the neighbourhood was comes close; five, make photos.

Your evidence doesn't surprise me you found it.

I think all other drawings of Tolkien related to different chapters served a similar kind of purpose. Envisioning it on paper and in colour can lead to more and better inspiration, things are conversations, since center of the tale and what you mainly tend to read, around all descriptive material. Conversation is what makes a tale come alive, I think.

[Priya]

Hi Aiks

Thank you for your comments. Everything is noted and your remarks are much appreciated. Yes, sometimes pictures are worth ‘more than a thousand words’. In the case of Goldberry - I think that’s particularly true!

———

As I stated in a previous post, Tom Shippey (and other scholars) are convinced that Tolkien based TLotR’s Withywindle on Oxfordshire waters. Indeed specifically on the Professor’s own local River Cherwell. Now though the Cherwell’s most famous lilies are white (as were those Tom brought Goldberry) the river also happens to seed a more profuse yellow variety.

‘The History of Banbury’ – extract from pg. 575, Alfred Beesley, 1841

When it comes to scientific designations, notably alba and lutea are feminine forms of the Latin words for ‘white’ and ‘yellow’ respectively. Given that masculine equivalents exist, not unreasonably it can be concluded that these plants spawned from life-giving waters are effectively ‘daughters of the river’.

Nuphar lutea, Yellow Water-lily, ‘British Phænogamous Botany’, Oxford, W. Baxter, 1839

That’s curious! Because Goldberry in both TLotR and The Adventures of Tom Bombadil - is known as the ‘River-daughter’. But the reason why, along with a solid tie to our world’s mythologies, and then also a deeper connection to water lilies - will have to await explanation in a future post.

In any case, rivers in European mythologies were often inhabited by minor deities. In English tradition – as set down by Michael Drayton in his Poly-Olbion – daughter, mother and father spirits were resident guardians of both minor and major waterways. With the daughter forms depicted as water-nymphs – one can understand why such literature readily provided a mythological link back to Tolkien’s world.

Extract from Michael Drayton’s ‘Poly-Olbion’, 1612

As Tolkien studied Drayton as part of his undergraduate syllabus, and also no doubt was aware of the Poly-Olbion as an important reference source while working at the OED (NED) - he may well have been drawn to the map above, and noted the presence of a resident water-nymph designated to the Cherwell (top left hand corner). Perhaps this image can loosely be described as the earliest known ‘illustration’ of Goldberry!

Zoom-in on River Cherwell Water-Nymph

[Priya]

Deep-rooted Connections to Water-lilies - Part 1

Getting back to the yellow water-lily, Goldberry being “young”, vibrant and vernal-voiced makes for close association to both early seasons when each yellow lily ‘berry’, in slow-flowing English waters, takes shape atop a single stem. Now though full flowering may continue beyond September – the yellow water-lily’s budding season is basically over by summer’s end to renew in the following spring. This slots in comfortably with Frodo’s rhyme:

“… Fair River-daughter!
O spring-time and summer-time, and spring again after!”
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

By late autumn the flower, leaves and stem die away leaving just the root rhizome. It is likely that Tolkien – who had a marked penchant to flora, having accumulated considerable botanical knowledge, would have known these details. A glimpse of such passion shines through in one of his late comments:

“All illustrated botany books … have for me a special fascination.”
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #312 – 16 November 1969, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981

Where exactly Tolkien first encountered water-lilies can be astutely guessed from his brother Hilary’s account of childhood adventures at Sarehole, a hamlet in Warwickshire:

“In very far off days in a part of Warwickshire, there dwelt a Black Ogre and a White Ogre. The one had wonderful flowers growing along the banks of the stream … Sometimes you had to paddle in order to get the water blobs, …”.
– Black & White Ogre Country, Bumble Dell – pg. 2, A. Gardner, 2009 (my underlined emphasis)

Cover of ‘Black and White Ogre Country’ by Angela Gardner

Hilary, of course, employed a regional colloquialism:

“BLOB. Water-blobs are water-lilies”.
– A Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words, pg. 187, J.O. Halliwell-Phillipps, 1901

And it would be a touch incredulous to accredit Ronald as having been less interested in plant-life than his sibling. Especially given an inbuilt desire for:

“… contact direct with an unfamiliar flora …”.
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #312 – 16 November 1969, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981

Most pertinently Tolkien told us:

“ ‘I lived till I was 8 at Sarehole …’ ”.
– The J.R.R. Tolkien Companion and Guide 2006 Edition, Chronology, 1896–1900, C. Scull & W. Hammond

Leaving us certain that this rustic settlement is where the botanical side of his scientific knowledge began its advance:

“… at seven … I was interested … in the structure and particularly in the classification of plants; …”.
– Tolkien On Fairy-stories, Manuscript B MS. 4 F. 73-120 – pg. 248, V. Flieger & D. Anderson, 2014 (my underlined emphasis)

As part of school curricula at King Edward’s, Tolkien was taught botany prior to the tender age of 8:

“The boys are also (as far up as class 8) instructed in Botany, with the intention of training their powers of observation and evoking an interest in the objects and phenomena of nature.”
– The J.R.R. Tolkien Companion and Guide 2006 Edition, Chronology, Autumn term 1900, C. Scull & W. Hammond

Moreover, having already been nurtured in the subject by his mother, it was much to his liking:

“I was eager to study Nature, …”,
– The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays, On Fairy-stories, Note D, HarperCollins, 1983

and:

“… (especially botany) …”.
– Tolkien On Fairy-stories, Manuscript B MS. 4 F. 73-120 – pg. 235, V. Flieger & D. Anderson, 2014

With his mother, Mabel, being at the forefront, she was no doubt the intended recipient of those fresh specimen ‘water-blobs’ for joint examination:

“His mother taught him a great deal of botany, and he responded to this and soon became very knowledgeable.”
– Tolkien: A biography, Birmingham – pg. 22, H. Carpenter, 1977

Now when it came to residing in Oxfordshire, the Professor ought to have regularly espied the county’s more common yellow water-lily heads poking through the Cherwell’s surface. Over many years at Oxford, the seasons for emergence of stems and flowering (and those in which they were absent) should have been readily apparent in equally lazy brown waters as those of the Withywindle.

During their budding phase these bright points of color would have been hard to miss – especially on July and August afternoons while on the drably hued Cherwell:

“… floating in the family punt hired for the season …”.
– Tolkien: A biography, Northmoor Road – pg. 160, H. Carpenter, 1977

‘Our River’, George Leslie – Punting* on the Cherwell, 1881

*Punts have remained fundamentally unchanged – even to this day.


Evidently familiarization with punting occurred as a young adult:

“I was brought up to Oxford … in the October of that astonishing hot year 1911, and we found every one in flannels boating on the river. Punts were then as strange to me as camels; but I later learned to manage them.”
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #254 – 9 January 1964, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981

It doesn’t take much to visualize top-heavy flexible stems swaying in the breeze or ripples resulting from the boat’s passage. One can understand why above water – the plant might appear to ‘dance’; aptly, I suggest, giving the ‘merry’ to:

“Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!”
– The Fellowship of the Ring, The Old Forest (my underlined emphasis)

Yellow Water-lily pads atop the River Cherwell at Sparsey Bridge**

** To the west is Water Eaton. To the east is Woodeaton (also known as Wood Eaton). Along these banks was a favorite picnic spot.




And so this is perhaps an opportune moment to recall the importance of personal experiences. For ‘external sources’ Tolkien stipulated that:

“… it is the particular use in a particular situation of any motive, whether invented, deliberately borrowed, or unconsciously remembered that is the most interesting thing to consider.”
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #337 – 25 May 1972, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981


Hmm ... those highly pleasurable family boating afternoons, casually observing Oxfordshire river-flora, became etched in his memory, I deem!

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Hello Priya: Some interesting posting you have done! I am not surprised there are multiple coloured lilies in Oxfordshire's ponds and rivers. And that is something from Tolkien's youth neither. I think with this you have answered most of your questions. Where Goldberry and her lilies were inspired from.

[Priya]

Hi Aiks

It’s not easy convincing everyone - so I’ve decided to add some additional circumstantial evidence.
I’m very happy though - that you are able to buy into my line of thinking and research.


Deep-rooted Connections to Water-lilies - Part 2


Returning to the subject of regional colloquialism - although some dictionaries classify (or sub-classify) ‘water blobs’ exclusively as white water-lilies, there is no certainty on this matter. For example:

“water-blob(s) … (b) the water-lily, esp. the yellow water-lily, Nuphar lutea; …”.
– The English Dialect Dictionary: Volume VI – pg. 401, J. Wright, 1905

“Water Blobs. Blossoms of Nuphar lutea, Sm., Yellow Water Lily (A.B.); probably from the swollen look of the buds.”
– A Glossary of Words used in the County of Wiltshire – pg. 25, G. Dartnell & E. Goddard, 1893

It appears both yellow and white varieties of water-lily have been assigned the same nickname. Usage varies regionally:

“Water Blob. …
(2) Nymphæ alba … Northampton; Yorkshire …
(3) Nuphar lutea … Dorset; Northampton …”.
– A Dictionary of English Plant-Names – pg. 484, J. Britten & R. Holland, 1886



Some of you who have read Hilary Tolkien’s childhood memories in Black & White Ogre Country might note Angela Gardner asserts that ‘water blobs’ are ‘marsh marigold’. Though also provincially nicknamed so, I disagree as marsh-marigold is a plant:

“… native to marshes, fens, ditches and wet woodland …”.
– Wikipedia article on ‘Caltha palustris’ (marsh-marigold)

and invariably,

“… grows in places with oxygen-rich water near the surface of the soil.”
– Wikipedia article on ‘Caltha palustris’ (my underlined emphasis)

In other words it is not found amid deeper running waters requiring wading and possibly even some swimming. Whereas Hilary Tolkien recounts that after removing shoes and stockings:

“Sometimes you had to paddle in order to get the water blobs, …”.
– Black & White Ogre Country, Bumble Dell – pg. 2, A. Gardner, 2009 (my emphasis)

Furthermore, unlike white/yellow water-lilies (see https://www.plantlife.org.uk): “the marsh-marigold is poisonous and can irritate the skin”. In light of Hilary’s implied repeated collection of ‘water blobs’, this makes marsh-marigold a less likely candidate than water-lilies. Though I cannot say for sure which type of water-lily Hilary collected.


Now I have already touched upon how throughout Tolkien’s semi-rural Midlands upbringing (in those self-admitted most formative years) – interaction with Nature was commonplace. However, I want to move on and further emphasize the Oxford connection. Because even though industrialization was on the expansion, the glorious English countryside was still just a stone’s throw away. He freely admitted:


“I take my models like anyone else – from such ‘life’ as I know.”
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #181 ~January 1956, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981 (Tolkien’s emphasis)

Handily for The Lord of the Rings, some of Tolkien’s inspiration literally lay just outside his doorstep. The Rivers Isis and Cherwell running through the heart of Oxford had a special bond with its history and connection to water-lilies. William Turner, a renowned local artist, had painted two nationally lauded portraits of lilies gracing the Cherwell.

‘Waterlilies in the Cherwell’ by William Turner (of Oxford), c. 1850’s

At the University of Oxford, we know there were water-lilies in his own Exeter College grounds. According to Warren Lewis the Fellows’ Garden ended:

“… in a little paved court with a sunk pond where a small fountain plays on water lilies: ...”.
– Brothers and Friends: The Diaries of Major Warren Hamilton Lewis, 1933 – pg. 105, C. Kilby, 1982

They naturally flourished in other areas of the university grounds too:

“… in the water walk called Mesopotamia, the summer visitor will see beds of water lilies, ...”.
– Historic Towns Oxford, Modern Oxford – pg. 214, C. Boase, 1893

Right next to Magdalen College and its campus, where C.S. Lewis had taught and resided, is the famed Lily House. Part of the oldest botanical garden in England, it is one of the few which grow the giant Amazonian Victoria Cruziana lily.

‘Victoria Cruziana Water-lily’, Lily House, University of Oxford Botanical Gardens

But perhaps most appropriately, Tolkien might have felt, was their seasonal presence in the fountain within ‘Tom Quad’. Sited adjacent to ‘Tom Tower’, Christ Church College’s sunken fountain has long been associated with a fleet-footed god; certainly well before Tolkien’s arrival in Oxford as an undergraduate.

Water-lilies in ‘The Mercury Fountain’ – Tom Quadrangle, Christ Church College, University of Oxford

One can see then – how opportunities abounded for pre-novel contact with this family of aquatic flora. And Tolkien readily confessed:

“I am (obviously) much in love with plants …”.
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #165 – 30 June 1955, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981

Then at the risk of sounding cliché, if we neglect the depth to which plant-based knowledge was embedded in his opus – it is at our own peril:

“There’s nothing in ‘The Lord of the Rings’ except that it’s a foundation of one’s feelings for trees, flowers and England generally.”
– Niekas interview (see Tolkien Studies 15, pg. 163), late spring 1967 (my underlined emphasis)

[Priya]

The Brandywine, Withywindle and the Yellow Water-Lily

As I have already commented in a previous post (27 Dec 2023), Tolkien certainly knew of the yellow water-lily’s existence. In the Appendix (pg. 248) to The Book of Lost Tales I, he terms it ‘nénu’ in early Elvish. In all likelihood the derivation was sourced, in early adulthood, from the lily’s Medieval Latin name: Nenuphar* – which, of course, had subsequently led to our world’s scientific Nuphar contraction (sc. Nuphar lutea). In taxonomic descriptions this plant is commonly titled the ‘Brandy Bottle’ due to the flask shape of its spent fruit.

This nickname shows up in Flowers of the Field, 1911 (pg. 23) by Charles Alexander Johns (reported in Tolkien and The Silmarillion by Clyde Kilby as Tolkien’s “most treasured book” – see Chapter II – Summer with Tolkien, pg. 26):

“Nymphǽa (Yellow Water Lily).

1. N. lútea (Common Yellow Water-lily, Brandy-bottle). …
Flower smelling like brandy, whence it is called Brandy-bottle.” (my underlined emphasis)

And this book is recorded as the one which most influenced Tolkien as a teenager (The J.R.R. Tolkien Companion and Guide, Chronology - 25 December 1971, 2017 Edition by Christina Scull & Wayne Hammond).

‘Brandy Bottle’ – Yellow Water-lily Fruit

Now the flower itself smells like a fermented alcohol – and so the ‘dregs of wine’ is an often employed traditional English phrase both capturing and conveying its slightly noxious aroma.

“The Yellow water-lily ... flowers during the summer, from June to September, and smells like the dregs of wine, hence other common names like 'Brandy Bottle'.”
- www.wildlifetrusts.org (my underlined emphasis)


So a subtle and deliberate interconnection of the yellow water-lily with the Withywindle tributary (as we have seen in the prior analysis of the Old Man Willow painting) and then further to the naming of the Brandywine River by Tolkien should not be downplayed.

It is quite apparent that the name ‘Brandywine’ was in Tolkien’s plan from near inception of the ‘new’ tale (see The Return of The Shadow – The First Phase, Chapter I).

‘Why is that so?’ - one might inquire.

As I have suggested, I think it’s because of a desired philological ‘exterior’ link to water flora – the name being derived from common English appropriations for the yellow water-lily (i.e. ‘Brandy’ & dregs of ‘wine’). One might deduce that Tolkien’s logic centered on the aroma and oozings from separated yellow water-lily fruit, having floated down beyond the Withywindle, wafting and seeping their way into the more inhabited regions of the greater river – thus giving rise to its naming by local hobbits.

I sense Tolkien’s early choice of Brandywine was almost reflexive. And built on considerable preexisting botanical knowledge. Because later on (past the point of amendment), he regretted that no reasonable ‘interior’ link had been provided to the distilling of brandy and Hobbits (see The Peoples of Middle-earth, The Appendix on Languages, pg. 72).

One can understand why the suitability of the stem ‘Brandy’ for Common Speech naming was deemed questionable by the Professor. After all, as a product, it is distinctly connected to the French with its traceable etymology originating with the Dutch. Both aspects are manifestly un-English.

Still, though a discussion of the name ‘Brandywine’ is furnished in Appendix F of The Lord of the Rings, it’s restricted to an in-mythology hobbit perspective. Nothing was given away about any substratal ‘exterior’ connection to flora. However, the Professor appears to have tried to cover his tracks by providing some sort of alcoholic link (“heady ale”); though quite frankly, it’s an unconvincing association.

Unfortunately, we must conclude, not every relationship or connotation within the story ended up being expanded upon. Nor was everything fully explained in the book’s appendices. Tolkien kept some matters to himself. We must make do with the few clues in our possession to try and understand his underlying intent!




* The yellow water-lily’s medieval Latin name: Nenuphar bears phonetic similarity to Tolkien’s ‘nénuvar’ – defined as a ‘pool of lilies’ (The Book of Lost Tales I, Appendix – pg. 248). Again, this suggests Tolkien actively explored the etymology of this river-plant.

In the English language instances exist where ‘v’ and ‘ph’ are interchangeable yet have the same meaning. Stephen/Steven and phial/vial are two examples. Tolkien’s preferences for an older form of etymology using ‘v’ instead of ‘f’ (e.g. dwarves vs. dwarfs) is well documented. Whether he felt the same applied for ‘v’ and ‘ph’ is unknown, but quite possible – especially as the ‘ph’ in Nenuphar is pronounced as if it were ‘f’.

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Hello Priya, two new lengthy posts. Wouw! Oh yes, I really enjoy it to learn from your views and see through your eyes. I am quite linear in my thinking and this shovels it upside down. *g* Hmm I had never thought that dictionaries would consider waterblobs as white heads. An interesting fact. Hilary never specified in her writing what kind of waterlily she saw, or collected.

In a sense I think this stonethrow from townlife to countrylife is still around us today. I live in the city too, but then in one of the outer suburbs. And from all the houses of me, it is short walk to dikes around and there nature is around in abundance, and it feels quite rural. Just over the dike is farmland. And in this time you really can smell when the farmers are busy turning over the land. It hangs over the suburb, of the wind is south or east. I think the photo is made by yourself?

Tolkien had definite always a love with plants, it is evident in the books.

On the second post... Oh I see, when the waterlilie is done flowering, it has by the end of summer a fruit, called the brandybottle. Funny really I had never imagined it to be so big. You think so that the Brandywine river is derived from the fruit? It is curious link. I always wondered where the name Brandywine really came from, but it could be a logic answer. Perhaps, after having read the rest of the post, it could be that that Brandywine was just thought of in the moment, without deep research and it sounded quite nice? An instant inspiration of the moment kinda thing, what I would like to say. That there was no academic research or thinking to it. I feel that Tolkien was capable to this as well.

Lots of similar sounding fonts are interchangable, it is an evolving element of language. Each generation uses it differently than the one before. I found what my parents used was old-fashioned, but I am now 48 years old and I sound quite old-fashioned compared to much younger people, in use of language. Philology is not really my thing, but it is quite curious to observe.

I never drank Brandywine, because there is such large alcohol percentage in it. And I avoid anything alcoholic.

[Priya]

Hi Aiks

I’m glad you like my line of thinking. But I leave every reader to make up their own mind if the evidence I present is convincing. One thing I refuse to do is insist my views are correct (and the only way to interpret Tolkien’s works). Nevertheless, of course I firmly believe there is a very good likelihood they are.

I love the English countryside. I have relatives that live on the outskirts of West London just 40 miles or so from Oxford. But the landscape is very different from Southern California where I have spent much of my life.

The main thing about ‘Brandywine’ that I find odd - is the combination of two alcoholic drinks that make up the name. Alcohol appears to me to be the only common factor - and I find it such a strange concoction for a River name. Indeed, double alcohol based names for English rivers appear to me rare - as I can’t find any.

Never heard of Beergin, Whiskyale or Cidermead or any other similar styling as an English river-name. So I can’t think of a plausible reason why initially Tolkien came up with ‘Brandywine’. Apart from the Yellow water-lily connection, that is!

[Priya]

Naming Etymology- Part 1


When it came to origins and sources Tolkien clarified that for The Lord of the Rings:

“The etymology of words and names in my story has two sides: (1) their etymology within the story; and (2) the sources from which I, as an author, derive them.”
– Letter to G. Wolfe from Tolkien, 7 November 1966

Later he confirmed the stimuli behind item (2) names lay:

“… exterior to the story, …”.
 - The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #297 – August 1967, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981   (Tolkien’s italicized emphasis on ‘exterior’) 

And there’s no doubt that they had been well-thought-out:

“All the names in the book, … are of course constructed, and not at random.”
 – The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #165 – June 1955, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981   (my underlined emphasis)


One interesting matter resulting from word origin research, is that the Nymph in Nymphæaceæ or Nymphǽa (the scientific genus’s in which the Yellow water-lily is classified/placed) has a dual meaning. Its Latin etymological source: nympha, also means ‘bride’.

How curious! One can’t help but suspect that Tolkien as a professional philologist knew of this duality. After all, both aspects of nympha are reflected in the 1934 The Adventures of Tom Bombadil poem. For after flirtatious water-capering, the cavorting culminated in a wedding with Goldberry becoming Tom’s spouse:

“Old Tom Bombadil had a merry wedding, …”.
 - The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, The Oxford Magazine, February 1934

Also noteworthy, is how the Greek equivalent of nympha is numphē and that a related nubere in Latin means: ‘take a husband’. Maybe then for a mix of Greek mythology with Greco-Latin etymology, that is stretchable to ‘nymph – take a husband’. In that light, if the constituent bere* can be extrapolated to ‘berry’, the latter half to ‘Goldberry’ appears highly befitting. Hmm – one can only wonder if Tolkien thought along such lines!

Etymology** of the mythological ‘Nymph’

* ‘Bere’ in Middle Dutch and Old High German is the word for ‘Berry’. In Middle English it is ‘Berye’; in Old English ‘beriġe’.

** Largely per Chambers Etymological Dictionary of the English Language, 1896. Tolkien owned the 1903 issue.

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Hi Priya! A wonderful set-out for the etymology of the word 'Nymph'. I feel there is a good constructed consistance in your posts, how you come by your conclusions, if you were writing down the steps of your thoughts. A kind of guideline if you are willing to say... I can't tell along what lines Prof. Tolkien thought, other than what he wrote or what he said in interviews. But to my knowledge, I feel he was a man who didn't document the processes how he worked/thought, simply for the reason it would be rubbish to do so. Extra unnecessary administration, time that can be put to better use, such as research or writing in your interest field.

[Priya]

Hello Aiks

I have a feeling that the vast majority of ideas behind much of what Tolkien wrote, probably never made into note form.

But still, I’m sure some notes (beyond letter correspondences) must have been kept and consulted.

I seem to recall reading somewhere that before transferring the draft material related to TLotR to Marquette, in putting his papers together, some stuff was cleared out (perhaps destroyed). But, I live in hope that new material will one day come to light - that confirms my research and avenues of thought!

———

Naming Etymology - Part 2


We should be encouraged by the etymological progress in Part 1, as it appears we have some reasonably strong ‘external’ linkage of our world to Tolkien’s feigned Third Age. But what about the ‘internal’ connection? What might have been the derivation of ‘Goldberry’ internal to the tale?

So it is item (1) that I now wish to concentrate upon:

“The etymology of words and names in my story has two sides: (1) their etymology within the story; and (2) the sources from which I, as an author, derive them.”
 - Letter to G. Wolfe from Tolkien, 7 November 1966

For Mrs Bombadil, I have a straightforward possibility. Namely that ‘Goldberry’ was simply a Common Speech corruption of the Sindarin: ‘Golodh bereth’ – glossed as ‘elvish queen’ or ‘wise elf queen’. This two-word combination, once merged, is a plausible phonetic match and furthermore fittingly ties in with Frodo’s first impression of being:

“… answered by a fair young elf-queen …”.
 – The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

From Tolkien’s own notes we have:

“Golodh was the S equivalent of Q Ñoldo …”,
 - The War of The Jewels, Quendi and Eldar – pg. 364, 1994   (‘S’ & ‘Q’ are abbreviations for Sindarin and Quenya)

“Ñoldor … The name meant ‘the Wise’, …” .
 - The War of the Jewels, Quendi and Eldar – pg. 383, 1994

and,

“S. bereth, … spouse, queen”. 
– Parma Eldalamberon 17 Words, Phrases and Passages in Various Tongues in The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien – pg. 23, 2007   (‘S.’ is an abbreviation for Sindarin)

Another equally engaging possibility is that ‘Goldberry’ meant ‘flower bride’, being ‘worn down’ from:

“S. goloth, … inflorescence, collection of flowers”, 
– Vinyar Tengwar 42 – pg. 18, 2001   (‘S.’ is an abbreviation for Sindarin)

and ‘bereth’ as given above.

Both ‘elvish queen’ (golodh bereth) and ‘flower bride’ (goloth bereth) are befitting descriptions for Goldberry. And I can’t quite decide which combination is the more appropriate. Nor whether another interchange such as ‘elvish bride’ or ‘flower queen’ is better suited. Perhaps Tolkien couldn’t either?

It is quite probable that the elves knew of Goldberry’s existence before the locally settled hobbits. Whether the Common Speech corrupted rendering was Bucklandish in origin – I cannot prove. Because that seems to have been the case for ‘Tom Bombadil’. According to notes in a booklet of poetry issued after The Lord of the Rings, ‘Tom Bombadil’ as a name ‘within the story’ was hobbit inspired – being:

“… Bucklandish in form …”.
 – The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, Preface, 1962

Nonetheless, one can easily imagine the scenario where the Buckland hobbits were the first among their kind to gain knowledge of Goldberry – and that through the fair-folk. Imaginably becoming ‘worn down’ over time, an initially relayed Sindarin name-form underwent gradual pronunciation distortion into more palatable Shire-speech!

Such a corruption is well within the realm of possibility. Tolkien provided an example for the case of ‘Brandywine’, on which Christopher comments:

“… the Hobbits had ‘twisted into a familiar shape’ the Elvish name Baranduin making out of it Brandywine, … Brandywine was ‘a very possible “corruption” of Baranduin’, …”.
 - The Peoples of Middle-earth, The Appendix on Languages – pg. 72, 1996   (Christopher Tolkien’s inserted quotes and italicized emphasis on ‘Baranduin’ and ‘Brandywine’)

So in summary, in my opinion a Sindarin description/name-form ‘golod bereth’ and/or ‘goloth bereth’ eventually became worn down into a Common Speech ‘Goldberry’.

Does that possibility make sense?

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: I hope for you too. No, Tolkien never really (well) documented all the whys behind the names for location (as example) he chose. And if he did, it would be a scribble on a piece of paper I imagine. Etymology isn't that easy to trace down, but you have been doing a wonderful job so far. You could write a dissertation of this.

I feel Goloth Bereth would fit Goldberry better than the other one, just as flower queen/maiden. She is a watersprite. The elves knew her, they had the name Iarwain Ben-Adar for Tom. They would have one for Goldberry too, but Tolkien never created or documented it. I have no idea on the speech the Periannath spoke in the Shire.

I know of the Baranduin, it is quite obvious that there is a corruptive speech connection. To confirm, yes it makes sense.

[Priya]

Hi Aiks

Thank you for your compliment. I quite understand why “goloth bereth” is more appealing to you. I have the same, but ever so slight, bias.

‘The elves knew her, they had the name Iarwain Ben-Adar for Tom. They would have one for Goldberry too’.

I like that. And I wholeheartedly agree.

—————

Flower-queen Goldberry & Symbolic Representation

Now in addition to the city’s history, we know Oxford’s rivers played a role in family ‘adventures’*. Besides the danger of tripping over exposed willow-roots, snare-like tendrilled lily-beds would have presented tricky obstacles to navigate past. Family man Tolkien certainly was, and the craft was steered by skillful hands. For all seasoned punters knew extra care had to be taken when confronted by the lurking hazards** concealed by the Isis and Cherwell. In a way Tom was family-oriented too. And if my hunch is correct Goldberry was no different.

Unless further factual information comes to light, we can only guess the truth behind why Tolkien had Tom gather white water-lilies for Goldberry. At first sight the given reason is plain enough:

“… to please my pretty lady, …”.
 - The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

‘Gathering Water-Lilies’, East Anglia, 1886 – A traditional English activity

 

Nevertheless, the real motive might have been more subtle. Goldberry, as ‘queen of all lilies’ – I surmise, was not just monarchical but also had a semi-symbiotic relationship with her ‘subjects’ (and no doubt ‘friends’): the water-lilies. The health of various river domains ought to have been much dependent on them. Aeration of the waters and the provision of a unique sub-ecosystem by the leaves was of vital importance. Though one can deduce Frodo sang of Goldberry’s bubbly breath being responsible for:

“ ‘… the leaves’ laughter!’ ”,
 - The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Tolkien’s botanical expertise probably extended to knowing that with the water-lily:

“Oxygen gas is copiously evolved in bubbles from its leaves.”
 - British Phænogamous Botany, Nymphǽa, William Baxter, 1837

Intermittent escape (instigating motion) imaginatively giving the impression of the leaves’ laughing!

In any case – given a welfare concern, it is suggested that Goldberry was just protecting the eldest and most vulnerable from inclement weather: impending storms and winter frosts – something which she did annually. White lilies were her focus simply because they are the less hardy of the two though their blooms last slightly longer into the season; and yes indeed they can survive and even thrive in containers:

“… in wide vessels of … earthenware, white water-lilies were floating, …”.
 – The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Tom’s task was clearly urgent:

“ ‘… Tom had an errand there, that he dared not hinder.’ ” 
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Moreover, gathering water-lilies was a rare event; it had nothing to do with house beautification:

“Each year at summer’s end I go to find them …”.
 – The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

So it seems Tom’s bride had not completely forsaken her special pool. Consequently, the ritual of bathing in it at spring-time was perhaps to welcome her new subjects – the fresh buds of emergent water-lilies, both white and yellow. Far from abandoning the river’s special inhabitants – she was there to help the aged and nurture the very young!

Of course the above is conjecture. Nevertheless, the connection of Goldberry to a flower is impressed upon us not only at our first meeting, but also our last. There at farewell, once again Tolkien left us with a similar vision of a yellow-headed lily. One which stood proudly over an expansive yet semi-submerged green leaf. Or perhaps even protruding from a green pool like that in Tolkien’s late poem Once Upon a Time:

“ ‘Goldberry!’ … ‘My fair lady, clad all in silver green! …’ … her hair was flying loose, and as it caught the sun it shone and shimmered. A light like the glint of water on dewy grass flashed from under her feet …”. 
– The Fellowship of the Ring, Fog on the Barrow-downs

And at last sight, with Tolkien’s self-specified sun imagery in mind, what flower could look more lit up than the near-globular petal-cluster of a yellow water-lily? 

“… they saw Goldberry, now small and slender like a sunlit flower against the sky: …”.
 – The Fellowship of the Ring, Fog on the Barrow-downs   (my underlined emphasis)

 

 
Surely then – we should acknowledge scientific designations pertaining to the fruit? How can we ignore the flower’s ‘yellowy-gold’ heart being termed a ‘berry’?

“berry many-celled” – Flowers of the Field, C.A. Johns, 1853
“Berry of many cells” – English Botany, Vol. III, J. Sowerby, 1794
“berry superior” – Pantologia, Vol. 8, Good/Gregory/Bosworth, 1813

Or from its head – many curly filaments conveying imagery of yellow rippling hair. And how by autumn that ‘hair’ would look ‘long’ with the added blending-in of petals opening out to their fullest.

When Tolkien stated that:

“Goldberry represents the actual seasonal changes …” in “… real river-lands …”, 
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #210 – June 1958, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981

one can readily conclude that more than anything else – she symbolized the changes experienced by a flower: the yellow water-lily, another nymphean “daughter of the River”. This native Oxfordshire plant, when budding in spring and summer, I believe – is the ‘external’ and true inspirational source of the name: ‘Goldberry’!



* During the summer of 1926, the Tolkien family engaged in a picnic on the banks of the Cherwell. Michael tripped over some willow-roots and fell into the river. Tolkien senior jumped in and rescued him.

** Frederic Weatherly of Brasenose College Boat Club, University of Oxford narrowly escaped strangulation by water-lilies after jumping from his vessel at Henley Royal Regatta in 1868.

Popular German literature, Immensee, and the dangers posed by white water-lilies (weisse wasserlilien) may have been part of Tolkien’s Teutonic reading repertoire:

“Every reader of German literature, too, knows the experience of Reinhardt in Theodor Storm’s Immensee (1849), when, in his midnight swim, his body becomes entangled in the ‘weisse Wasserlilien’ …”. 
– Studies in Scandinavian Literature and Culture, A Neglected Passage – pg. 96, F. Ingwersen, M. Norseng, 1993

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Hi Priya: You're welcome! Oh yeah the rivers and ponds do play an inspiration role. At some point in life the more social people are also family gathering people, in any sort of family you like to have. It takes at least two people to start a family together, or a fellowship; and they have need of a family oriented mind.

I think it is not hard guessing, Goldberry loved lilies and would be delighted if Tom would bring them. It is plain and simple, and not much to it really. Just an expression of love. Skipping all third persons in the story out, and just keeping to them as couple. Tolkien's works are full of allegories and parabels to give alternative, rich imaginary descriptions to bring to us how he would like the reader to perceive it.

Goldberry represented definite the different seasons of the year. I find it thought a bit neglective of Tolkien that Goldberry seems not to be so very interested in the nature as whole, all other plants created by Yavanna. Or I am mistaken?

I am not fond of Frodo, I find him pretty a conceited character. Bilbo is better to digest.

[Priya]

Hello Aiks

I do understand your preference for Bilbo. I like him a little better than Frodo too.

In TLotR and The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, Goldberry is also associated to forget-me-nots and the yellow flag-lily.

In Tolkien’s late poem Once Upon a Time, she is depicted wearing wild roses and blowing a dandelion puff ball.

Something to think about!

————

Nymph Artistry


Despite Tolkien taking an active long-term interest in painting and being a gifted artist himself, absolutely no evidence exists of specific artwork depicting mythological nymphs that he definitely viewed. Yet that type of art was popular in England in an era that spanned between the mid 1800’s all the way to Tolkien’s early youth.

In 1910 the English artist Henrietta Rae produced Hylas and the Water Nymphs in a setting and style reminiscent of John William Waterhouse’s version that I posted on 28 Dec 2023. Again, both yellow and white water-lilies are a feature.
 

It’s interesting to note that Waterhouse (and the strong probability of Pre-Raphaelite influences) has been mentioned in Michael Drout’s J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia: Scholarship and Critical Assessment, 2007 (article by James McNelis under Artistic Movements).

Waterhouse is perhaps the most famous Pre-Raphaelite artist when it comes to depicting legendary maidens. Connectivity of these minor water-goddesses to water-lilies, and its deeper significance, was seemingly not lost on this particular artist. One can reasonably conclude Waterhouse was suitably versed in the botanical aspects of the mythology lying behind those femmes fatales. Because water-lilies crop-up again and again.

Similar to Hylas and the Nymphs, yellow water-lilies feature in Waterhouse’s 1903 nymph-featured oil – Echo and Narcissus simply (lower-center).

  

 

Coincidentally (perhaps), a parallel exists of Goldberry’s indoor pose in yet another Waterhouse painting. This time in an outdoor portrayal – a young, fair-skinned and beautiful woman* is similarly depicted as seated above an expanse of white water-lilies and their accompanying leaves. Remarkably the woman possesses a silver dress and ‘bejeweled gold’ belt just like Tom’s pretty lady!

‘Ophelia’**, John William Waterhouse, 1894

Complementing Greek mythology, later Teutonic and other North European legends possess many examples of mythological merfolk frolicking in fresh waters among lily-pads. Whether with flukes or legs – or whether water-nymphs, sirens, nixies, undines or even mermaids – these sensual aquatic creatures were invariably youthful, beautiful and usually female. Indeed, artistic renditions abound illustrating them in close association to floating river flora across a wide pan of European myth. So with that we must get back to Goldberry and ponder on roots.

 

 

Etching from The Journal of Applied Arts and Crafts, Fritz Hegenbart, 1851

‘Nordic Thoughts’ – Siren among the lilies

Many readers have thought of Goldberry as being a relatively simple character. Compared to Tom that seems quite true – at least superficially. But was there more to Tom’s bride than just a passing resemblance to the classical nymph (naiad) of Greek myth? Did Tolkien stop right there and decide to limit Goldberry to a purely Hellenic personification of Nature? Or were there other facets to her invented essence, of a subtler complexion, requiring more intense deliberation and deeper exploration?

 

‘A Naiad’, John William Waterhouse, 1893

Given how Tolkien’s mindset was such that:

” ‘… Names always generate a story in my mind. …’ ”,
 - Tolkien: A biography, The storyteller – pg. 172, H. Carpenter, 1977

one can reasonably deduce that Goldberry must have had a story behind her.

But what was her story?







*The woman is Ophelia from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet. In Waterhouse’s painting she is actually depicted sitting on a willow branch. In the play, the branch breaks (the tree proves treacherous) and Ophelia falls to her death.

** Of course Tolkien was familiar with Shakespeare’s Hamlet – as well as the character Ophelia: 

“… Hamlet; … came out as a very exciting play. … to my surprise the part that came out as the most moving, … was … the scene of mad Ophelia singing her snatches.” 
– The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter #76 – 28 July 1944, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981

Though not directed at Goldberry, of note is Tom Shippey’s comment (which comes from remarks made by Tolkien in his 1953 Sir Gawain and the Green Knight essay):

“… ‘rootedness’ comes from having deep roots in old and half- or more than half-forgotten myth, as Tolkien thought was the case with … Beowulf and Shakespeare’s … Hamlet, …”.
 – Roots and Branches, Tolkien and the Appeal of the Pagan: Edda and Kalevala – pg. 31, Essay by T.A. Shippey, 2007   (my underlined emphasis)

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: Even it is not meant probably as so, in both paintings from Waterhouse, in Echo and Narcissus (1903) both people feel as if are nymphs, flowers and leaves in the hair and a single garment around the body. One could retitle it as: First Meeting. And in Naiad (1893) a similar idea. Considering of Hylas and the Waternymphs (1910) I think there is a Scottish/Celtic idea from the tartan the man is wearing around the hips and over the shoulder.

Ophelia (1894) could be an inspirational example for Goldberry. She has something of the enigma over her that Tolkien uses in the poems about Tom and Goldberry.

Many readers have thought of Goldberry as being a relatively simple character. Compared to Tom that seems quite true – at least superficially. But was there more to Tom’s bride than just a passing resemblance to the classical nymph (naiad) of Greek myth? Did Tolkien stop right there and decide to limit Goldberry to a purely Hellenic personification of Nature? Or were there other facets to her invented essence, of a subtler complexion, requiring more intense deliberation and deeper exploration?

I am wondering too about this. I could imagine that Tolkien made some scribbles about this, facets from the Hellenistic arts and Nordic arts and kind of mixed them together? It is a hypothetical thought of me. I don't know what the blob is in the fuzzy water of Hedenbart (1851), but there is not much to see. The depiction of the subject is not clear. I cannot tell how Tolkien came by Goldberry, but something of his wife and daughter might be titled to her too. Bit of youthful innocense? Female expression? The mystical secret attributed to women that fascinate men because they don't have them? Just my thoughts on the topic.

The lilies and forget me's are a main theme in these paintings, just as a waterbody.

[Priya]

Hi Aiks

I like your thoughts!

Clearly Waterhouse was not just enamored by mythology - but also the female form. So from a personal standpoint, your words are those which I can quite understand

The mystical secret attributed to women that fascinate men because they don't have them?

—————-

So back to mulling on Goldberry.

One needling matter that triggers further pondering is:

‘How did a wild and carefree water-being all but abandon an aqueous abode to firmly become a domesticated land-based wife’? How did she manage such a feat?

There certainly are cases of akin creatures in Nordic, Teutonic and Welsh mythologies who managed to successfully transition, but the instances are rare. And so the question must be begged – did Tolkien follow established storyline patterns when shaping Goldberry? Or did the Professor create a new type of versatile life-form from that incredibly fertile mind?

To help answer all of these questions, we will need to examine several mythological archetypes from our world, ponder on their applicability, and then in finality try to thrash out whether Tolkien had an underlying purpose. Indeed, was there a ‘method to his madness’ or a ‘master plan’? However, before any postulation we need to remind ourselves that though the characters of Tom and Goldberry go hand in hand, Tolkien never plainly asserted they were hierarchically related beings. Nor, for that matter, did he spell out their entity class(es) within his own mythology.

Tom, in particular, has been a source of unceasing debate. Yes, his complexity has both intrigued and frustrated even the most studious of readers. Be that as it may, once we probe below the surface, it will become apparent Goldberry was no mere tag-along. Though textually much of her time was spent in the background – she was only a couple of sophisticated and equally enigmatic steps behind!


 
The Influence of Undine


Once again, as stated at the end of my prior post - the Professor gave away:

“I always in writing start with a name. Give me a name and it produces a story, not the other way about normally.” 
– 1964 Interview with the BBC

Which story-wise resonates with Treebeard’s nature-related language:

“ ‘… Real names tell you the story of the things they belong to …’ ”.
 - The Two Towers, Treebeard

Since, in all reasonableness, much of prior posts lay bare the sources (and especially ‘thing’, i.e. yellow water-lily) behind her name, it’s time to pull together a fuller ‘story’ belonging to Goldberry. One far more complete and satisfying than already deduced. One that methodically and coherently binds the tale with our own world while explaining her wholesome character to a tee. Yet to expose the degree and depth of Tolkien’s imagination and inventive skill, I must focus on a particular type of ‘story’. To understand the ‘master plan’ we will be obliged to familiarize ourselves with fairy tales!

Now an interesting group of archetypes worth looking into that bear some similarity to aspects of Goldberry, and touched upon by Ruth Noel in The Mythology of Tolkien’s Middle-earth, are “the Undine, the Lorelei and the Siren”. Noel only casually addresses these mythical merwomen. But I shall dig deeper. Primarily the spotlight will be directed on the ‘undine’ (also known as the ‘ondine’).

 

‘Undine’, Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué, Drawing by George Heywood Sumner

 
The fantasy writer George MacDonald, of whom Tolkien professed admiration, once wrote:

“Read Undine: that is a fairytale … of all fairytales I know, I think Undine the most beautiful.”
 - The Fantastic Imagination, G. MacDonald, 1893   (italicized emphasis on first part of quote & ‘Undine’) 

Published in 1811 and the work of German novelist: Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué – the tale of Undine was an established and quite beloved fairy-story by the late 19th century. Centered around a water-entity’s love for a mortal knight, it recounted how the creature (named Undine) married the man to gain a ‘soul’.
 
Well what has all this got to do with Tolkien’s Goldberry?’, one might ask.

Well we shall see …..

The popularity of Undine in Britain was great enough to allow the renowned English artist Arthur Rackham to illustrate a reissue in 1909.

Somewhere along the line, pre-1934 I am guessing, Tolkien ran across some Rackham art focalized on a particular water-maiden that ended up being wholly inspirational.

Five pieces of Rackham’s Undine artwork are shown below. All five of them have reasonable connectivity to Goldberry either in The Fellowship of the Ring or The Adventures of Tom Bombadil poem (1934 or 1962 version).
 

Painting 1

[Resonances: Gold belt, long rippling yellow hair, white arms, silvery colored clothes, house prominently positioned next to river waters per TLotR.]
 

Painting 2

[Resonances: Yellow hair, stone cottage positioned next to river waters, matching TLotR textual scene of Goldberry passing by a window.]


 

Painting 3

[Resonances: Yellow hair, greenish and silvery clothing, river abode below waters per The Adventures of Tom Bombadil.]

 

Painting 4

[Resonance: Dark stormy clouds*, TLotR textual scene of Goldberry out in the rain for her ‘washing day’.
* Per nymph etymology: relation to nephos. The Nephelai (or Nephelae) were the Greek nymphs of clouds and rain.]
 

Drawing 5

[Resonance: Moment before capture by Tom beside the rushes of the Withywindle pool per The Adventures of Tom Bombadil and aired again in TLotR.]


Does the artwork strike a resonance with you too?

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Goodmorning Priya! How nice it is mulling over Goldberry? I love it. *g* Oh I come to a question that I never asked myself, but that certainly is prickling my interest. A good setup to tackle the thesis. Up the picture examples. Are you arguing that Goldberry could have been at the start a waternimf without a spirit and gained one by marrying Bombadil?... *nods*

As you are putting the argument forth, yes, I would say all five of them do in fact. I think painting these kind of women were also laying a dream for the normal men and women around, a window to dream and escape from the pretty hard conditions of life in the early 19th century. Drawing 5 puts up some fond memories of myself, while laying down in such a state, free from the worries of the world as teenager or early twentier. That gives me the sense of it.

Undine, Lorelei and Siren are much the same. I know them more under the epiphet of Witte Wieven, they come over the mist over land and water, and found in bogs. Mist in the boggy landscape is threaterous and you can't see where you are going, and likely to step amiss and make a plunge in the water. The spring and autumn when humidity gets high are ideal for the fog in my area, and you get the sense the spirits are not far off.

[Priya]

Hello Aiks - I hope you are having a good day.

Are you arguing that Goldberry could have been at the start a waternimf without a spirit and gained one by marrying Bombadil?

I believe you are on the right track. But I think Tolkien’s plan was a little more sophisticated. Things will become clearer as my posts unfold.

Thank you for the Wikipedia article. I have never heard of the Witte Wieven - so it was an interesting read.

—————

Continuing on from my last post ….


Now before I go on to further discuss Undine, it must be emphasized that I’m well aware of the pitfalls to definitively linking the prior post’s pictorial art of Rackham to Tolkien. Such dangers were outlined by the Professor himself in Letter #328 (from The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Autumn 1971, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981). Some scholars will also no doubt point to Tolkien’s self-admitted weakness in remembering images and his preference for pure literature. Albeit Michael Drout in his Encyclopedia has noted the inconsistency of though:

“… declaring himself ‘not well acquainted with pictorial Art’. However, on other occasions he admitted a literary debt to visual art.”
 - J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia: Scholarship and Critical Assessment, Artists and Illustrators’ Influence on Tolkien – pg. 37, M. Drout, 2007   (Tolkien’s words in single quotes)

But did Tolkien even know of Undine? Where is the evidence? Pictures, that match, are helpful - but is there anything else one can point to?

Unfortunately what we do have is rather scant.


In truth, as an owner myself of Rackham’s illustrated edition – with many of the pictures occupying an entire page – the eye cannot help but be drawn there. Rackham’s paintings and drawings are indeed magnetic and possess a unique charm. Partly my own personal experience lends me to believe Undine artistry might well have been subliminally or even consciously present in Tolkien’s mind at Goldberry’s conception – with a later rekindling for The Lord of the Rings.

Yes, Rackham’s art has a distinct signature to its style. Once one spots a face in the surf – one cannot help but look for more. So it is the Professor’s invention of the “spirits of the foam and the surf of ocean” – the ‘Falmaríni and Wingildi’ per The Book of Lost Tales I (from a notebook created pre-1920) that perhaps leave the barest of vestigial clues. What source had given birth to the idea to include such rarely termed mythological beings? Their insertion makes me think Tolkien had encountered the Rackham edition of Undine well over a decade before our first introduction to Bombadil’s fair water-lady.


 

Four Faces in the foamy water – Excerpt from Painting 1 in previous post

 

Two Faces in the foamy water – Excerpt from Painting 2 from previous post

 
Another link of Undine to Tolkien appears at the outset of sharing his mythological writings to an audience of critical eyes. In 1920 after recounting The Fall of Gondolin to the University of Oxford’s Exeter College Essay Club, the recorder made the following note:

“… a discovery of a new mythological background Mr Tolkien’s matter was exceedingly illuminating and marked him as a staunch follower of tradition, a treatment indeed in the manner of such typical romantics as William Morris, George Macdonald, de la Motte Fouqué etc. …”.
 - The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Note 5 to Letter #163 – 7 June 1955, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981   (my underlined emphasis)

Ought not the documented reaction have piqued Tolkien’s interest? Wouldn’t he have wanted to read the official review? 

As we can see it was highly positive. And thus one might infer, despite the passage of a century, Fouqué’s most famous tale (by far) had lost none of its charm among scholars of mythology and folklore. Counted alongside other notable romantics, perhaps we can glean that Tolkien already knew of Undine as a young adult!

Of course, given quality resources at his disposal and a vast housing at the University of Oxford’s multiple libraries, it is quite possible Undine was accessed therein. Equally possible is that C.S. Lewis introduced his friend to Rackham’s illustrations (and thus the fairy-story) given his acquaintance and delight* with them:

“He loved the drawings of Arthur Rackham in Undine …”. 
– Jack: A life of C.S. Lewis, Into Narnia – pg. 314, G. Sayer, 2005


*C.S. Lewis started reading Arthur Rackham’s illustrated edition of Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué’s Undine in 1916. In 1917 correspondence with his friend Arthur Greeves he wrote about his admiration for Rackham’s drawings. Also stated was a desire to obtain his own copy – though it hasn’t surfaced in the archives of his personal library mainly housed at Wheaton College, Illinois.


… more to come

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Hi Priya: Surely I have. Who shall say what Tolkien all knew and was not documented? I read further on your arguments as you might come to certain conclusions. Rackham's drawing style is not so my favourite. Seems there is a lot of drama going on his work, but not what you see straightaway. Nice you have the book of images of him. I cannot say what kind of art Tolkien liked. But from his own drawing I would say a more less artistic expression and what an expression was of the image that lived in his head, as realistic as possible. Who writes about creatures as the Undine, you'll come across them while doing research. That is my experience with writing.

[Priya]

Hi Aiks

Yes - I agree, sadly we will never know the full extent of Tolkien’s personal library or his reading repertoire. However sometimes we have to make educated guesses and use what little information we have. I think it’s okay to use circumstantial evidence and forge logical connections.

Rackham’s artwork seemed to appeal to Tolkien from what he said about it influencing the Old Man Willow painting. I’m sure C.S. Lewis and Tolkien had many conversations about fairy tales and mythology. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if they’d discussed Undine, given that Lewis loved Rackham’s artistry and effectively proclaimed Tolkien to be:

“… a specialist in fairy-stories.” 
– Review of The Hobbit for the Times Literary Supplement, 2 Oct 1937

——-

Undine: A Paracelsian Elemental

Now the term ‘undine’ originates from mythological related theory advocated by a 16th century European alchemist and physician who went by the pseudonym ‘Paracelsus’. Its usage became so common that it became incorporated into all major dictionaries:

“Undine: a female spirit or nymph imagined as inhabiting water.”
 - Oxford Dictionary of English, OUP, 2006

The word itself is sourced from Latin unda, meaning ‘wave’ or ‘water’. We know that Tolkien was familiar with this Swiss-German scientist’s pioneering work for at least two reasons. One being Tolkien mentions him in Letter #239 (from The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 20 July 1962, Edited by H. Carpenter, 1981). The second is that Paracelsus was the inventor of the word ‘sylphs’ which Tolkien borrowed for The Lost Tales of the 1915’s – 1920’s. Hence, it seems reasonable to assume that he had become familiar, well before The Lord of the Rings, with what Paracelsus essentially described as ‘elementals’. Of course, if at this early time the term ‘sylph’ was known to a young Tolkien – undoubtedly ‘undine’ would also have registered - don’t you think?

As for ‘elementals’, they were posited to be unique life-forms each wrought from one of the four ancient elements: air, water, fire and earth. Except for the salamander, they took roughly humanoid shapes while subsuming the type of matter that they were associated to. Undines were of beautiful (often feminine) appearance (when visible to mortals) and explicitly bonded to water – sometimes tailed and sometimes not.

 

‘The Untangling of Chaos’ or creation of the elements, God the Father stands astride a globe surrounded by the Universe, Hendrik Goltzius, 1589 Engraving

 
Despite a lack of scientific proof, Paracelsus was adamant such beings composed entirely of one category of matter:

“… were really living entities, … inhabiting worlds of their own, unknown to man because his undeveloped senses were incapable of functioning beyond the limitations of the grosser elements.”
 – The Secret Teachings of All Ages, The Elements and Their Inhabitants – pg. 292, M.P. Hall, 1928

Fouqué built upon Paracelsus’s work and took it a step further. To Fouqué, water-nymphs and undines were equivalents: 

“ ‘Pure and fair, more fair even than the race of mortals are the spirits of the water. Fishermen have chanced to see these water-nymphs or mermaidens, and they have spoken of their wondrous beauty. Mortals too have named these strange women Undines. …’ ”. 
– Undine, F. de La Motte Fouqué, Project Gutenberg E-book, Editor: M. Macgregor, Chapter VII, 1907   (my underlined emphasis)

Then were what Fouqué and we might term water-nymphs, really elementals? For Fouqué, we certainly can deduce so – for right at the end of the tale Undine reverts to her basic constituent fabric, that of water:

“… she went slowly out, and disappeared in the fountain. … a little spring*, of silver brightness, was gushing out from the green turf, and it kept swelling and flowing onward with a low murmur, till it almost encircled the mound of the knight’s grave; it then continued its course, and emptied itself into a calm lake, which lay by the side of the consecrated ground. Even to this day, the inhabitants of the village point out the spring; and hold fast the belief that it is the poor deserted Undine, who in this manner still fondly encircles her beloved in her arms.” 
– Undine, F. de La Motte Fouqué, Project Gutenberg E-book, Introduction by C. Yonge, Chapters 9 & 10

More importantly had Tolkien latched onto such ideas? Had he thought of Goldberry in her river abode as not only akin to a classic Muse, but also an undine? Maybe there was a legitimate connection – because even in Roman and Greek mythologies – nymphs, on occasion, dissipate into water*. Then were water-nymphs and undines one and the same in the Professor’s mind too? Were they both ultimately elementals?

Whether so, I cannot prove. But there was one quality about a premarital Undine that is mirrored by her counterparts and captured so well in John Waterhouse’s Hylas and the Nymphs (picture depicted in my post of Dec 28 2023). Namely, outward youthful beauty – yet an accompanying inner coldness which is facially unmissable:

“Look deep into her blue eyes and you will see why her beauty is so cold, so chill. … In the eyes of every mortal you may see a soul. In the gay blue eyes of Undine, look you long and never so deep, no soul will look forth to meet your gaze.” 
– Undine, F. de La Motte Fouqué, Project Gutenberg E-book, Editor: M. Macgregor, Introduction, 1907
 

‘Hylas and the Nymph’, Henry Pegram, erected in Regent’s Park, London 1933

 
In Fouqué’s tale** the only way for an undine to gain a soul was to marry a man. Tom, though manlike in looks, was an immortal. But it is curious how per The Adventures of Tom Bombadil – just before marriage he found Goldberry by the rushes:

“… and her heart was beating!” 
– The Fellowship of the Ring, In the House of Tom Bombadil

Why wouldn’t it be? But was it merely fluttering in affection for Tom or was it the onset of a metamorphic transformation to acquire a soul? It might have been both, because in philosophy and mythology the heart, soul and love have always had strong linkage***!


… to be continued




* Transformation of an embodied nymph to pure water was probably inspired by the mythology in Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Cyan melts into water – Book V, Hyrie turns into a spring – Book VII and Egeria turns into a spring – Book XV).

For Tolkien’s likely knowledge of Ovid/Metamorphoses – see Jason Fisher’s Tolkien and the Study of His Sources, Sea Birds and Morning Stars (Larsen), 2011.

** The story’s plot also appears in Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid where another type of merwoman similarly gains a soul by marrying a mortal:

“A mermaid has not an immortal soul, nor can she obtain one unless she wins the love of a human being. On the power of another hangs her eternal destiny.”
 – Hans Andersen’s Fairy Tales, The Little Mermaid – pg. 230, H.B. Paull, 1867


 

‘The Mermaid’, Stories from Hans Andersen, illustration by Edmund Dulac, Hodder & Stoughton, 1911

 

Her doom, like Undine’s, was to revert to ‘element’ form if she failed:

“ ‘… when we cease to exist here we only become the foam on the surface of the water, …’ ”.
 – Hans Andersen’s Fairy Tales, The Little Mermaid – pg. 220, H.B. Paull, 1867

*** For example, Aristotle placed the location of the soul in the heart; while Plato subdivided the soul into three parts/placements:

logos (head), thymos (lungs) and eros (heart)

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Hey Priya! Aye it could be indeed that Tolkien knew of Undine and Sylph at a young age.

More importantly had Tolkien latched onto such ideas? Had he thought of Goldberry in her river abode as not only akin to a classic Muse, but also an undine? Maybe there was a legitimate connection – because even in Roman and Greek mythologies – nymphs, on occasion, dissipate into water*. Then were water-nymphs and undines one and the same in the Professor’s mind too? Were they both ultimately elementals?

I think at some point we diverge from Tolkien and enter our own thoughts about this. It is what I would do... I have a feeling that Fouque has very own ideas on the matter, from what I get the idea the quotes being used. It is a beautiful statue from Henry Pegram in Regent's Park. Yeah Fouque's idea returned also with this idea, I posted earlier I remember, if Goldberry could have gotten a body when marrying Tom? I think reading Fonque's book is not bad at all...

[Priya]

Greetings Aiks

Really appreciate your comments - even if you don’t wholly agree with me.
When it comes to elementals and a connection to Goldberry - I have some extra evidence/reasoning which might help to convince. I will get to it soon!

———

Lily Transfiguration and the Breath of Immortality 


To develop a more coherent theme, we must now turn to that branch of science covering water-flora. We must recall how from childhood Tolkien developed a strong interest in botany. Clearly such enamor was maintained into the late 1940’s as can be discerned by one of his walking friends’ observation of him being:

“… a fount of curious information about plants, …”.
 – The J.R.R. Tolkien Companion and Guide 2017 Edition, Chronology, 5-9 August 1947

Some of that information likely included detailed knowledge of water-lilies – the so-called ‘water blobs’ of his childhood. Once again it’s worth thinking about imagery and this kind of river-flora. If we do so, it isn’t hard to see why the heart-shaped leaf of the yellow water-lily has been a symbol since medieval times of true and pure love. An iconic manifestation of a river’s healthy soul – resulting ultimately from that most primeval of substances: water. And so, one might want to consider the effect Tom’s submersion had on the lily-pads after Goldberry pulled him into the water. Down he went:

“under the water-lilies, bubbling and a-swallowing.” 
– The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, 1934 (& 1962) poem

Wouldn’t those bubbles in surfacing have made the lily-leaves pulsate like a living heart? Was this part of the sequence instigating a mythical metamorphosis? 
 

The Yellow Water-lily and its Heart-shaped Leaves

 
Hmm … so from this mischief-making (or from the later capture event) was the truth behind the last step merely that a nearby yellow water-lily suddenly seemed to throb with life and then magically transfigure into a woman? In all the commotion is that what appeared to happen?

And so … perhaps in the real world an akin event was what truly founded Teutonic interchangeability legends involving undines and Nymphæa water-lilies:

“According to German tradition, the Undines often conceal themselves from mortal gaze under the form of Nymphæas.” 
– Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics, Nymphæa – pg. 463, R. Folkard, 1884

Perhaps Tolkien himself, in recalling his youth, had glimpsed the source of a metamorphosis myth in watching a fair-skinned, blonde and possibly long-haired* Hilary emerge from lily-beds in Sarehole (or nearby) waters!

Then were such memories contributory to thoughts about his ancestors sighting those lesser gods and goddesses in rural lands? Had synthesized local produce and waters (infused for generations into their ‘blood and bones’) heightened audio-visual awareness of their surroundings? Perhaps it had … such that any unusual anomaly or oddity out in the countryside became acute to their senses. Thus, when no obvious explanation existed – could such phenomena, when the circumstances were right, be why rustic folk:

“… saw nymphs in the fountains …”?
 - Letter from C.S. Lewis (quoting Tolkien) to A. Greeves, 22 June 1930

Later in life (but before The Lord of the Rings), had swimming among water-lilies** in C.S. Lewis’s pond at the Kilns reminded him of childhood escapades? One can quite imagine how bathing in secluded semi-wilderness might just have triggered some stimulating chit-chat with his intellectual peer. Speculative conversation about how a stray traveler at the property boundary, espying them from afar, could perhaps mistake them for creatures other than human beings. Ultimately – in ancient times – could this be how merfolk legends arose?

The ideas are certainly compelling – but we mustn’t neglect a religious side to the Bombadillian poetic episode. In Christianity the ‘soul’ is equated to the ‘breath of life’. It constitutes the living and inhabiting yet incorporeal essence of a human being. The Catholic theologian Thomas Aquinas would have added further qualification by expanding ‘essence’ to ‘immortal essence’:

“… the Lord God formed man of the slime of the earth: and breathed into his face the breath of life, and man became a living soul.” 
– The Bible (Douy-Rheims Bible Challoner Revision), Genesis 2:7
 

‘The Creation of Man’, Mosaic, Cathedral of Monreale, Sicily, Italy
 

Our modern-day word ‘soul’ stems from the ancient Greek word ‘psyche’: “to breathe”. Thus the source of this most age-old of concepts is buried deep in historical literature; leaving me to suspect that Tolkien purposely linked such roots to his own mythology. Bombadil wasn’t God – but his bubbles, I surmise, were the ‘fairy-story’ breath of life. That sudden unleashing of a mythical spell. The classic point in a fairy tale upon which a water-nymph metamorphosed from a lily would acquire her eternal soul. Marriage to the ‘man’ who had breathed immortality into her was of course – inevitable!

So perhaps it is not at all of curiosity why the ending for the earliest full Bombadil poem resulted in matrimony:

“Old Tom Bombadil had a merry wedding, …”.
 – The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, 1934 (& 1962) poem

Noticeably, wedlock was accompanied with a marked change in Goldberry’s character. From being mischievous, childish, even reckless – she became that perfect hostess: thoughtful and caring, while exhibiting elegant grace with measured wisdom. Such a u-turn, we must remember, was also part of the transformation process undergone by Undine in winning that ultimate prize:

“… the giddy, naughty, wayward, capricious, self-loving Undine, without a soul, contrasted with the calm, pious, consistent, self-denying Undine with a soul, …”.
 - The English Review, Volume 3 – pg. 77, Undine, 1845

“… the contrast between the artless, thoughtless, and careless character of Undine before possessing a soul, and her serious, enwrapt, and anxious yet happy condition after possessing it, …”.
 – The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Volume 3 – pg. 531, Marginalia, 1856

“The great charm of the tale lies in the sudden transformation of Undine on the day after her wedding, from the wild and wayward water-maiden into the sweet and gentle woman, out of whose eyes the newly-won soul looks forth.” 
– The English Illustrated Magazine, Undine – pg. 307, 1887

Hmm – it is interesting to speculate on the lengths Tolkien went to in sourcing our favorite water-being for his early poetry, and then those ancillary tweaks and adaptations made for the later mythology. And more so, to examine the evidence and case for other elementals. An affirmative conclusion would strengthen Goldberry’s position in the hierarchy of mythological entities connecting ‘his world’ to ours. A hierarchy that perhaps has yet to be fully understood. However, such a discussion will be tabled for later.


… more on the way


* Noted in Tolkien: A biography, Birmingham by Humphrey Carpenter: the two brothers were subject to mockery, by other Sarehole children, because of their long hair and pinafores. An interview with a newspaper provides affirmation:

“ ‘They rather despised me because my mother liked me to be pretty, I went about with long hair …’ ”.
 – The Oxford Mail, 3 August 1966


** No absolute proof exists that water-lilies were present on the occasions Tolkien swam with Lewis:

“… The Kilns, a house at the foot of Shotover Hill, … had a pond where Jack and Tollers would go swimming in the summer.”
 - A Brief Guide to J.R.R. Tolkien, The Inklings, N. Cawthorne, 2012

However the following excerpt, I would guess, is probably based on Lewis’s personal experience at the Kilns’ pond:

“In a pond whose surface was completely covered with scum and floating vegetation, there might be a few water-lilies.”
 – Miracles, Nature and Supernature – pg. 38, C.S. Lewis, 1947

 

A view of the pond at The Kilns

 

[Aikári Salmarinian]

Priya: My pleasure. I think you have over there an extensive library where you find all your recourse materials. I am quite amazed by the quotes you have from them. Nice view on the pond, you can sit an hour on a bench there and not even be bored, as I imagine. As for your questions in the text:

1. Wouldn’t those bubbles in surfacing have made the lily-leaves pulsate like a living heart? Was this part of the sequence instigating a mythical metamorphosis?
It could be if you have a rich imagination, but it can also be that fish swim under those leaves and produce those bubbles, as they sometimes come to surface to 'eat some air'. There could be a bridge to metamorphosis, but I don't feel it with such leaves alone in the water. I would say that the Kiln waters produce more to this imagination. The clear waters you can see the plants, the wildness of the trees further away... It could be a bridge of sorts between mortal lands and immortal lands.

2. Hmm … so from this mischief-making (or from the later capture event) was the truth behind the last step merely that a nearby yellow water-lily suddenly seemed to throb with life and then magically transfigure into a woman? In all the commotion is that what appeared to happen?
It might.

Hmm – it is interesting to speculate on the lengths Tolkien went to in sourcing our favorite water-being for his early poetry, and then those ancillary tweaks and adaptations made for the later mythology. And more so, to examine the evidence and case for other elementals. An affirmative conclusion would strengthen Goldberry’s position in the hierarchy of mythological entities connecting ‘his world’ to ours. A hierarchy that perhaps has yet to be fully understood. However, such a discussion will be tabled for later.

Hmm, I would ask, is there place for hierarchy of mythological entities, because it has not yet crossed my mind there would be between Tom and Goldberry. I am curious to what you have concluded on this.