The Lord of the Rings is deeply rooted in both the English rural landscape in which J. R. R. Tolkien grew up and in the Christian faith he practiced throughout his life. He once observed that the Shire was “in fact more or less a Warwickshire village of about the period of the Diamond Jubilee.” In another letter, he pointed out that some biographical facts are more relevant for understanding his work than others; some, he says, “are really significant. For instance I was born in 1892 and lived for my early years in ‘the Shire’ in a pre-mechanical age. Or more important, I am a Christian (which can be deduced from my stories), and in fact a Roman Catholic.” In neither case are we dealing with a simple, fictionalized biography or an allegory, but something much more complex and nuanced—as we can see from the tremendous popularity of The Lord of the Rings in translation and among readers of a wide range of religious or nonreligious perspectives.
Part of Tolkien’s genius was that he transmuted and transformed all his sources and influences (whether biographical, linguistic, or literary elements) into something rich, deep, and compelling for a wide range of readers.
It’s pleasing to note, in this regard, the scope of two major international Tolkien conferences in the last two years. In 2023, marking the fiftieth anniversary of Tolkien’s death, “Tolkien’s Words and Worlds” was hosted at Oxford University’s Corpus Christi College (I wrote a reflection on it here). Now 2025 has given us the opportunity to see even more fully the breadth and depth of Tolkien’s international appeal. In May of 2025, the Collège des Bernadins hosted an international colloquium in Paris, France, on “The Christian Consonance of Middle-earth” (La consonance chrétienne de la Terre du Milieu). Much credit is due to scholar Michaël Devaux for his tireless work in organizing it and bringing together what turned out to be a rich feast of Tolkien scholarship, fellowship, and art.
As if with an embarrassment of riches, there was also a small but substantial exhibit of Tolkien items, including books from his personal library (of particular interest to me, after my research and writing of Tolkien’s Modern Reading).
The conference was a truly international gathering. From institutions in France, the speakers were Damien Bador, Leo Carruthers, Jean Chausse, Michaël Devaux, Pascal Ide, Yannick Imbert, Jérôme Sainton, P. Clément Pierson; from Brazil, Diego Klautau; from Germany, Thomas Honegger; from Italy, Guglielmo Spirito and Claudio Testi; from Spain, Eduardo Segura; from the United Kingdom, Giuseppe Pezzini; and from the United States, Christine Falk Dalessio and myself. The speakers presented in either French or English, and simultaneous translation was provided in each language for both the presentations and the Q&A.
It was a marvelously polyglot atmosphere, as almost everybody spoke at least two (if not more!) of the languages in use among the speakers and attendees. I can read French (and made use of it for my research on Louis Bouyer, the French priest who became a friend of Tolkien, for Tolkien’s Faith) but not speak it, but since I do speak Spanish, that became the lingua franca for conversations with some of my international colleagues.
The conference began on Friday, May 16, with a Mass celebrated in the beautiful and ancient church of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. It was the feast day of St. Brendan, which made for an appropriately Tolkienian note on which to begin, as Tolkien wrote a poem initially called “The Death of Saint Brendan,” published in 1955 as “Imram,” in which the saint recalls his mysterious voyage to a blessed isle. After that, we had a full day of lectures, beginning with Jean Chausse’s interesting engagement with the question of “are there just wars in Middle-earth?” Focusing on the events in The Silmarillion, Chausse showed that Tolkien by no means presents his Elves as perfect, as many of the wars in Middle-earth do not meet the standards of a just war as articulated in Catholic social teaching. (Readers will not be surprised that Feänor is culpable for much of this mayhem.)
For me, one of the highlights of the conference came on Saturday morning with a session on the question of allegory, handled with the nuance this subject merits. Guiseppe Pezzini’s “Beren and Frodo: The Seamless Web of Story and the Tree of Tales” was excellent. He noted the material was drawn from his new book, Tolkien and the Mystery of Literary Creation, which I am now reading with enthusiasm. Claudio Testi addressed a recurring debate in Tolkien criticism with “The Arch and the Cornerstone: Contradiction and Contrariety in J. R. R. Tolkien and His Critics,” building on an argument he develops in his book Pagan Saints in Middle-earth, which I recommend. Lastly, in this session, Thomas Honegger gave an insightful talk titled “Allegory, applicability, or rather typology? Approaches toward interpreting Tolkien’s texts.” It was a pleasure to see this complex topic handled by three different scholars with the nuance and insight it deserves.
On Sunday, after Mass in the oratory of St. Basil in the Collège des Bernardins, the conference entered its final day. The opening talk from Michäel Devaux was on “Tolkien and the Mass in Latin” (as distinct from what is now called “the Latin Mass”), a fascinating account of a lecture Tolkien had given to his parish of St. Anthony of Padua in the late 1950s on the topic of “Latin for the Laity.” Tolkien aimed to help his fellow parishioners better understand the basic Latin elements of the Mass and gave various reasons why this would be helpful for their devotions. It shows him as an active member of the parish, and also as having good reasons, which he could articulate, for valuing Latin, emphasizing that his love of the Mass in Latin was not merely nostalgic. I also took note of Devaux’s observation that Tolkien quotes John Henry Newman at one point in this lecture, which means that we now finally have specific evidence of Tolkien reading Newman (it is clear he surely must have known Newman’s writings, but my approach as a scholar is to carefully distinguish what is probable from what is supported by evidence). I will be eagerly looking forward to reading Devaux’s essay in the conference proceedings, which will be published in due time.
My own session was on Sunday; I spoke on “Marian devotion, suffering, and subcreation: Biographical and literary insights from Tolkien’s poetry.” Drawing on material published for the first time last year in The Collected Poems of J. R. R. Tolkien (which I write about here), I looked at five poems that reflect Tolkien’s experience as an English Catholic, show how he explores particular themes in the context of his faith, and illuminate some of the ways his faith shaped his creative imagination.
Fittingly, the conference ended with the speakers attending Vespers at the Cathedral of Notre Dame, now restored after the devastating fire of 2019. Though I wasn’t enthused about the plain modern-style altar now in place, it is inobtrusive; what is much more significant is that the cathedral as a whole has been beautifully restored with tremendous care and attention to detail to bring it back to its original state. What is most striking is the fact that the cathedral is now clean for the first time in centuries, a point several of my French colleagues commented on. Centuries of soot buildup and general grime had made the interior dark and gloomy, but this was not the original intention at all. Seeing the great rose window was particularly special, given its iconic role in Bishop Barron’s CATHOLICISM series.
The conference setting was magnificent to begin with, as the grounds of the Collège des Bernardins is a thirteenth-century building that was once the college of the Cistertian monks of Paris. In addition to this architectural beauty, the conference also boasted a major exhibition of the “Aubusson weaves Tolkien” project. “Aubusson tapestry” is a form of hand-woven tapestries on a very large scale (often floor to ceiling) with the technique dating back to the fourteenth century. In the “Aubusson weaves Tolkien” project, for the last twelve years, these skilled artists have been creating woven representations of many of Tolkien’s own works of art.
The Aubusson Tolkien tapestries have been displayed before, but this exhibition was the first time all sixteen pieces were on exhibit at the same time. Pictures don’t do justice to the experience of seeing Tolkien’s art transformed into a new mode; it was stunning and absorbing. Seeing his watercolor paintings brought to life at such a large scale, with absolutely faithful attention to detail and vibrant colors, felt like an invitation to step into the world of Middle-earth.
Not only was it a marvelous experience to see them myself, it was also encouraging to see how they captivated everyone who came through the exhibit. People naturally took pictures of the tapestries and had themselves photographed with the tapestries—I certainly did!—but, significantly, I saw very little of the snap-a-picture-and-move-on behavior that is so lamentable. Rather, people were absorbed: They stood in little groups or singly and looked at the tapestries, soaking in the striking beauty of them. It was a testament to Tolkien’s creative imagination, expressed in his art as well as in his literary creations, to the consummate craftsmanship of the Aubusson weavers, and to the compelling power of beauty.