Among various types of writing (fiction, poetry, critical essay, script writing, etc etc), correspondence is usually seen as a very minor (if at all) art. Do we often think about the fact that our letters (or, let's be real, our e-mails or Messenger and Whatsapp written exchanges) could be potent expressions of ourselves, containing way more than the requisite and minimal exchange of information with an interlocutor : (in)jokes, efforts to show emotion, storytelling, attemps to connect with a real or imagined audience of one or more, etc ?.. It seems to me that correspondence is where the line between “Artist” (whomst we tend to place outside of “normal people” as possessing some kind of innate qualities or “talent”) and everyday “artist” (everyone of us insofar as we express ourselves into any medium and create something out of something else) is the thinnest. Any written word presupposes intention, thinking about what we're going to write, in a moment that can last anywhere from two seconds to three months. In that intention and distance, communication becomes art.
Those were the thoughts rattling in my head while reading the huge mass of letters written by J.R.R.Tolkien. The letters reveal something of both the artist and the man. Tolkien having been a very private person, the selection of letters is adequately representative of that, focusing mostly on his thoughts about the creation of his works and his whole lifelong mythology (adressed either to friends, his editor, or, later in his life, to fans), and the letters giving glimpses into his personal life are very few. Both are fascinating in their own way, even if Tolkien himself (as he reminds often in numerous letters) espoused a (somewhat contradictory and fragmentary) belief in the concept the Death of the Author. That is, he firmly disagreed with a “biographical” interpretation of a text relating to an author's life, yet at the same time, was fiercely protective of his own view and interpretation of the books and quite disapproving at times of other interpretations (it seems in line with what I tend to call the “soft” version of the Death of the Author concept : the book existing independently of the author once released into the world, but the original author still retaining some authority over the interpretation of the books, while accepting that others might offer different interpretations that have merit).
Tolkien's art has been a subject of different controversies over the decades, and interpreted in various ways. The author himself was championed and claimed by every corner of the political spectrum. He was said to be an anarchist, a fascist, a conservative, a monarchist ... and so forth. I find it interesting that his letters do indeed give us a glimpse of a passionate and contradictory mind. He wasn't really an anarchist, at least not in the (true) leftist sense, having a strongly hierarchical mind linked to his Christian conservatism, yet he despised the lust for power in itself and was wary of anyone exhibiting it. I would say that he wasn't a fascist either, both by his negative reactions to real fascist regimes (except for a soft spot for Franco's which seems to be born more out of ignorance about the real happenings in it) and his rejection of any person trying to impose their will onto others. He definitely was a Christian Conservative (and has many amusing proto-boomer thoughts about women in trousers during Mass, the Beatles and modern jazz) and had a strong faith tinged with melancholy. He doesn't really seem to have had a coherent political ideology, and was more influenced by his feeling of living in a “fallen” world where everything not related to the highest most transcendent matters was bound to failure and decrepitude.
This melancholy tone carries over from the beginning, in his first letters written during WWI, sometimes directly from the trenches, through his later success and fame – which often made him very uncomfortable – and right until the end of his life. It lingers, like a cloud, even over his most joyous moments, his triumphs, his passions, his quiet appreciation of nature and music, his marriage, his advice to his (four) children.
Which isn't to say that there aren't any other emotions at play. Tolkien being a clearly passionate individual, his letters are often barely contained bundles of excitement or fury hidden behind a veneer of respectable "gentlemanly" expression. I found some of his petty rages to be particularly entertaining. While reading letters more or less in order, one comes to know Tolkien's mind and his triggers, and I, for instance, remember anticipating him going berserk over an absurd cover of the Hobbit (in the introduction to the letter number 277 : “The cover picture showed a lion, two emus, and a tree with bulbous fruit”) and thinking “this is gonna be good”. He had a very clear picture in his mind regarding his "sub-creation" (a very important concept in his understanding of art and litterature), and had difficulty accepting things that deviated from it too strongly.
All in all, the letters were a fascinating look into someone's lifework (and contained very many nerdy details about said lifework for obsessive types like me) and the different ways it can be expressed in correspondence, each interlocutor receiving a piece of it, and we, the readers, godlike, putting it all together with distance and hindsight.
BONUS ROUND
I do admit I did chuckle when reading this : “[about women] they do not as a rule talk 'bawdy'; not because they are purer than men (they are not) but because they don't find it funny. I have known those who pretended to, but it is a pretence. It may be intriguing, interesting, absorbing (even a great deal too absorbing) to them : but it is just plumb natural, a serious, obvious interest; where is the joke?” (letter number 42). In my experience, this is absolutely true. There is a lot to be said about sex, and jokes to be had about a variety of sexual situations, and women do engage in it, but the only ones who goes “har har, sex” about the mere mention of the existence of sex have always been men. Maybe it's a defense mechanism because men find earnestly thinking about it uncomfortable ?.. (I'm of course painting with a wide brush and do recognize that it is a socially constructed thing, and not anything inherent in being a man or a woman).
The last thing that makes me chuckle everytime, is Tolkien raging about his name being misspelled as “Tolkein” and going into insane linguistic lengths and explanations to explain why it is “Tolkien” rather than “Tolkein”, and his name still being misspelled very often. If he were alive today, I can hardly imagine the rages he'll fly into, because I still see this misspelling absolutely everywhere, from Youtube comments to articles written about his work. I guess some things never change.