The Shaman of the Old Forest
Bombadil, Väinämöinen, and the Animistic Spirit
“Weep no more, O verdant birch-tree!
Leafy sapling, weep no longer,
Though, equipped with whitest girdle,
For a pleasant future waits thee,
New and charming joys await thee.
Soon shalt thou with joy be weeping,
Shortly shalt thou sing for pleasure.”
- Väinämöinen
(The Kalevala: v2, trans. Kirby, 197-98)
I’ve been sitting on this paper for nearly a year now, having presented it at last summer’s Oxonmoot. I still intend to submit a more complete version for publication (possibly as part of a forthcoming book), though until that happens I figured I would take the opportunity to share some of this research with all of you!
This is quite clearly not a finalised essay (it’s really an edited presentation script), so please forgive the informal nature. Overall, I’m quite pleased with what came out of this project, as I feel it opens up some trails of inquiry that had, until now, remained largely untrodden. Please feel free to share and let me know your thoughts below!
Abstract
This essay investigates the animistic and ‘shamanic’ nature of Tom Bombadil, exploring the evolution of his role in the legendarium, the ecocentric values he represents, and likely sources of inspiration for the character in Northern European mythology. In particular, this paper explores resonances between Bombadil and the eternal bard Väinämöinen from The Kalevala, the influence of which is well attested in Tolkien’s First Age works. But very little attention has been paid to the ways that this Finnish/Karelian mythic corpus influenced Tolkien’s poetry and the tales of the Third Age. While the Bombadil affair differs wildly from the saga of Túrin the hapless, it arguably better reflects the elements of The Kalevala that Tolkien found most enchanting: namely the ennoblement of simple things, the animistic and folkloric nature of the work, and the profound magic of song. As an indigenous and ostensibly ‘shamanic’ figure, Bombadil functions as an important foil for the relative ‘modernity’ of the hobbits, initiating them into the wonders and perils of the living Earth. As Britta M. Colligs notes, Bombadil acts as a kind of educator and guide for the hobbits—an intermediary between the hobbit and non-hobbit worlds, equipping them with the skills to metabolise their fears, their hopes, and the high strangeness of the wild world. He is, in this sense, a specifically shamanic figure, facilitating an initiation into the Perilous Realm of myth and natural magic, for both the hobbits and the reader.
Introduction
This paper explores the identity, origins, inspiration, and narrative functions of our dear Tom Bombadil, known primarily through his ‘enigmatic’ intrusion into the narrative of The Lord of the Rings. In it, I hope to challenge the notion that Bombadil is wholly inexplicable, while highlighting early conceptions of him in poems and manuscript drafts of The Lord of the Rings, and what I feel to be a key source of inspiration for the character. Perhaps most importantly, I hope to demonstrate the applicability and profound importance of Bombadil (and his beloved Goldberry) and his associated values in the 20th/21st centuries.
At the core of this project are questions surrounding Bombadil’s identity, origins, inspirations, narrative function, impact, and values, as well as potential lessons imparted by his inclusion in the story. I argue, most fundamentally, that Tom Bombadil is an exemplar of ‘indigenousness’ in western Middle-earth, and further that he represents a distinctly ‘shamanic’ figure based, at least in part, on Väinämöinen from The Kalevala. I propose that he was inserted into the narrative because the unique mythic atmosphere that he engenders is precisely that which Tolkien found so attractive in Finnish mythology, as well as his embodiment of certain animistic values that are usually only implicitly present elsewhere. In essence, Tom Bombadil is a key figure representing the transcendence of instrumentalism, demonstrating the prioritisation of relationship over exploitation at a pivotal moment in the narrative.
I. TOM’S ORIGINS: PRIMARY SOURCES
Regarding Bombadil’s origins, we first and foremost must address the famous doll. Humphrey Carpenter tells us that Bombadil was named after a Dutch doll that belonged to Tolkien’s son Michael. We’re told that this doll “looked very splendid with the feather in its hat, but John did not like it and one day stuffed it down the lavatory. Tom was rescued, and survived to become the hero of a poem […] ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil’, which was published in the Oxford Magazine in 1934” (Carpenter 2016, 216).
Patricia Reynolds managed to track down an image of a Dutch doll from this era (on the left in the image below) which matches this description, but the degree to which this doll might be described as ‘splendid’ is phenomenally debatable (personally, I think it puts Annabelle to shame). A clearer image can be seen on the right of a very similar doll from Queen Victoria’s personal doll collection.
PROSE FRAGMENT: 1920s
Before we get to that 1934 publication, there were actually a couple of earlier Bombadil ‘germs’ that Tolkien composed. The earliest is an unfinished (or maybe just incomplete?) manuscript dating to the 1920s, comprised of three paragraphs (The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, ed. Verlyn Flieger, 277-79). In it, he describes one ‘Tombombadil’ as “one [of] the oldest inhabitants” of King Bonhedig’s kingdom in prehistoric Britain, known as ‘the Kingdom of Bon & Barroc’ (with the latter likely referring to Berkshire). We’re not told much about this character, but we do get a good description of his appearance and voice. Tolkien writes:
“…he was a hale and hearty fellow. Four foot high in his boots he was, and three foot broad; his beard went below his knees; his eyes were keen and bright, and his voice deep and melodious. He wore a tall hat with a blue feather; his jacket was blue, and his boots were yellow” (Bombadil, 278).
THE GERM: HISTORY OF TOM BOMBADIL (Mid-1930s)
The next work we get is what Tolkien himself regarded as the ‘germ’ or ‘seed’ of the Bombadil literature, which reads:
“Ho! Tom Bombadil
Whither are you going
With John Pompador
Down the river rowing?”
(Shadow, 115)
Tolkien traces this ‘germ’ to mid-1930s, but it was almost certainly composed earlier. Christopher Tolkien identifies it as the germ of ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil’ (116), in particular, while Scull & Hammond identify it with ‘Bombadil Goes Boating’ (Bombadil, 131). It certainly seems to be more closely associated with the latter in content, though it would make sense that this would have underpinned Tolkien’s first long-form piece on the character.
‘THE ADVENTURES OF TOM BOMBADIL’ (1931-34)
The poem known as ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil’ was originally composed around 1931, published in Oxford Magazine in 1934, and revised for 1962 publication in the AoTB. Notably, this is our first appearance of some of the additional characters in Bombadil’s orbit, including Goldberry, Old Man Willow, and Barrow-wights.
According to the ‘internal’ history of the Legendarium (in which the materials are fictively regarded as ‘found documents’): this is described as being the earliest Bombadil poem, written by the hobbits of Buckland based on “various hobbit-versions of legends concerning Bombadil” (Bombadil, 33). Evidently, the hobbits were at least vaguely familiar with the strange man in the Old Forest, though he would have been more a matter of legend than a personal acquaintance.
TENGWAR EXCERPTS (ca. 1931)
In 1931, Tolkien composed at least five documents in Elvish script containing excerpts of ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil’. Given the dating of these texts, this obviously further challenges the dating of the ‘germ’ piece to “mid-1930s.” For more on this, see The Adventures of Tom Bombadil, 271-73, and Pictures by J.R.R. Tolkien (2021), #48.
BOMBADIL IN MIDDLE-EARTH
Tom first burst into the manuscript of The Lord of the Rings around August of 1938 (Shadow, 110), marking the first time that Bombadil (and Goldberry) were integrated into the wider Legendarium. Before this, there was no clear indication that they were intended to exist in the ‘same world’ as Tolkien’s core mythology. Of course, the same could be said about hobbits before The Lord of the Rings began to develop. We’ll come back to this in a moment.
BOMBADIL GOES BOATING / THE MERRY FLITING OF TOM BOMBADIL (1961-62)
After the publication of the Lord of the Rings, Tolkien composed two additional Bombadil poems while preparing pieces for The Adventures of Tom Bombadil (1962): the first one is evidently based in part on the original ‘germ’, but Tolkien identifies it as a “new Bombadil poem” meant “to go with the older one” (Letters, Letter 237, 446). This, importantly, further integrates Bombadil and his gang with Middle-earth.
According to the internal historiographical construct, the poem which would become ‘Bombdail Goes Boating’ was identified as a Bucklandish (i.e. hobbitish) poem composed after Frodo & co.’s visit to the House of Tom Bombadil. Notably, it was originally known as the ‘Merry Fliting of Tom Bombadil’, with fliting being an Old English term meaning to ‘strive/quarrel’, i.e. a “contest of insults” (Bombadil, 141) This is a motif found explicitly in Beowulf, though echoes of it can also be found in The Kalevala with the contest of Väinämöinen vs. Joukahainen (more on that below).
ONCE UPON A TIME (pub. 1965)
A third Bombadil & Goldberry poem was published in 1965 for Winter Tales for Children 1, edited by Caroline Hillier. It was seemingly based, in part, on Tolkien’s earlier 1924 poem, ‘An Evening in Tavrobel’. Based on its date of publication (and exclusion from the AoTB collection), it was likely composed after the Bombadil collection was published in 1962. Presumably this was the final Bombadil-related work composed by Tolkien.
II. TOM’S IDENTITY: UNRAVELLING THE ENIGMA
In this section, I will begin to unravel the ‘Bombadil enigma’. It has become common for Tolkienists to simply ignore attempts at making ‘sense’ of Bombadil, even going so far as to argue that there is no sense to be made—and that Tolkien himself had no real firm ideas about who Tom is or why he should be included in the Lord of the Rings. I argue that this is unfounded.
In Letter 144 to Naomi Mitchison (1954), Tolkien writes, “As a story, I think it is good that there should be a lot of things unexplained (especially if an explanation actually exists) […] even in a mythical Age there must be some enigmas, as there always are. Tom Bombadil is one (intentionally)” (Letters, 263). This raises some important questions, namely what does it mean to be an enigma in this context? I would argue that Bombadil is an enigma, indeed, but a meaningful enigma nevertheless.
PHILOSOPHISING BOMBADIL
Of course, Tolkien wasn’t crazy about some of the theories that folks came up with when trying to figure out Bombadil’s ‘meaning’. In Letter 153 to Peter Hastings (1954), the manager of a Catholic bookshop in Oxford, Tolkien writes, “I don’t think Tom needs philosophising about, and is not improved by it […] But I kept him in, and as he was, because he represents certain things otherwise left out” (Letters, 287, emphasis added).
There are indeed many popular ‘theories’ about what these things might be, some of which had already begun to emerge in Tolkien’s lifetime:
Bombadil as Eru Ilúvatar: this is one of the more popular (and problematic) theories, and the only one that Tolkien explicitly rejected. I will return to this in a moment.
Bombadil as a Maia: this theory is, for all intents and purposes, somewhat meaningless. The category of ‘Maiar’ spirits was a relatively late development in Tolkien’s mythology, and is a notoriously generic categorisation meant to subsume what are, in fact, a vast multiplicity of different kinds of beings.
Bombadil as Tolkien: this is another popular theory, but is pure speculation.
Bombadil as embodiment of the Music of the Ainur: I quite like this theory, but again — pure speculation.
Bombadil as the spirit of the Oxfordshire and Berkshire countryside: this seems to stand alone as a defensible theory with good textual justification. We’ll return to it in a moment.
ON TOM AS ERU
The first theory—that Bombadil is God incarnate—is usually rooted in Goldberry’s rather pragmatic comment, “He is […] He is, as you have seen him” (LOTR, 139). Those who see this as a clue to his divinity tend only to focus on the first incomplete sentence—viewing ‘he is’ as akin to Yahweh’s statement to Moses in Exodus 3:14, “I am that I am”. In Letter 153, Tolkien strikes this down outright, stating, “We need not go into the sublimities of ‘I am that am’ – which is quite different from he is” (Letters, 286). Indeed he is correct. “He is, as you have seen him” (which is the complete line) bears very little resemblance to a statement of divinity. Rather, it is a very ordinary response to what must have seemed a bizarrely obvious question.
So it is clear that Tom is not Eru. But he is important nevertheless, despite being enigmatic. So ignoring the strictly speculative options, what do our sources tell us?
TOM AS A SPIRIT OF THE ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE
Let us turn back to Tolkien’s comment about Bombadil representing “certain things otherwise left out”. What are these things? It is worth noting that, before settling on the concept for The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien had actually considered writing a Hobbit ‘sequel’ centred entirely around Tom Bombadil. In Letter 19 to Stanley Unwin (1937), he writes, “Do you think Tom Bombadil, the spirit of the (vanishing) Oxford and Berkshire countryside, could be made into the hero of a story?” (Letters, 36). This alone certainly warrants further consideration of Tom’s importance in Tolkien’s imagination. It would not be suitable for an entire narrative to be formed around an enigma, so it stands to reason that he—at least for a time—had a somewhat clearer picture of who, or what, Tom Bombadil is.
A clue is clearly to be found in this very statement to Stanley Unwin. Tom is here envisaged as “the spirit of the (vanishing) Oxford and Berkshire countryside”. But can the same be said for the Bombadil of The Lord of the Rings?
TOM’S IDENTITY IN LOTR: EARLY NOTES
Evidently, yes. In his early notes on the TB From early notes on TB chapter (Shadow, 117), Tolkien writes, “Tom Bombadil is an ‘aborigine’ – he knew the land before men, before hobbits, before barrow-wights, yes before the necromancer – before the elves came to this quarter of the world”. This is, perhaps, the clearest ‘explanation’ for Tom that we are given in Tolkien’s voice. He goes on to say, with words that he would eventually bequeath to Goldberry, “Does this land belong to him? No! The land and the things belong to themselves. He is not the possessor but the master, because he belongs to himself.”
This is significant in and of itself, identifying Bombadil as a kind of ‘aboriginal’ or ‘indigenous’ figure native to the Old Forest. But it is peculiar that he also flirts with the notion of making Bombadil somewhat less unique, suggesting (to himself): “Make Maggot not a hobbit, but some other kind of creature – not dwarf, but akin to Tom Bombadil”. Reflections of some degree of strange kinship between Maggot and Bombadil make their way all the way into the final version of The Lord of the Rings, though it is nowhere suggested that Maggot is anything other than a hobbit. Nevertheless, we can certainly surmise that the ‘otherness’ of Bombadil remained relevant — he is an ‘aborigine’ of sorts, but not an aboriginal hobbit (nor, presumably a non-hobbit human), nor a dwarf, and certainly not an elf. So is an aboriginal other—and, if we are to take his letter at face value, some kind of incarnate spirit.
BOMBADIL THE ‘ABORIGINE’
This trail of thought did, notably, make its way into early versions of the manuscript. When Bingo (Frodo) asks “Who are you, Master?”, Bombadil responds: “Eh, what? […] I am an Aborigine, that’s what I am, the Aborigine of this land” (Shadow, 121). While the wording changed in the final publication, the intent of this line remained entirely in tact, with his response shifting to “Eldest, that’s what I am” (LOTR, 146).
Such a distinction is further attested in the various names that Bombadil holds among the other inhabitants of Middle-earth. At the Council of Elrond (LOTR, 282-83), he is identified as being known to the elves as Iarwain Ben-adar (S. ‘Old-young & Fatherless’), and is otherwise known as Forn (ON. ‘Ancient’) and Orald (OE. ‘Very Ancient’) among Dwarves and Northern Men, respectively.
Given this information, Bombadil can quite safely be regarded as an autochthonous inhabitant of the Old Forest. This is precisely who/what he is. But where did he come from? Did he arise spontaneously out of Tolkien’s imagination, or are there discernible inspirations to be found in other mythic and literary traditions?
III. TOM’S INSPIRATIONS: AN UNDEREXPLORED SOURCE
Now that we have identified Bombadil as an indigenous spirit of the Old Forest, let us now look for potential inspirations for his character. While a one-to-one association is not suggested, I propose that the chief inspiration for the character is none other than Väinämöinen from The Kalevala.
THE KALEVALA: LAND OF HEROES
The Kalevala was compiled in the 19th century by Finnish polymath Dr. Elias Lönnrot (1802-1884), based on oral Karelian and Finnish folk tales (with significant authorial/editorial influence). The first version, known as the Old Kalevala, was published in 1835, and the second (the New Kalevala) in 1849. It is difficult to overstate the profound cultural and political impact of this project. At the time of its publication, Finland was under Russian rule—and for most of the previous 600 years it was under Swedish rule. Despite its many cultural distinctions, including use of a non-Indo-European language, Finland had long been marginalized or subsumed within larger imperial identities. But, as Verlyn Flieger notes, “Kalevala energized a burgeoning Finnish nationalism and was influential in Finland’s declaration of independence from Russia” (Kullervo, xi). By collecting and reshaping these scattered oral traditions into a cohesive epic, Lönnrot helped to forge a sense of cultural unity and historical depth that would later fuel Finland’s nationalist movements and eventual independence in 1917.
Tolkien first read W.F. Kirby’s popular translation of The Kalevala in 1910-11, while studying at King Edward’s School in Birmingham, and during his undergraduate years at Oxford—in Autumn 1911—he borrowed C.N.E. Eliot’s Finnish Grammar from the Exeter College library to try and learn Finnish (Kullervo, xi). His encounter with this important collection had a tremendous impact on Tolkien’s imagination, leading him to compose his own retelling of one of its tales (The Story of Kullervo) around 1914.
He also composed an essay on The Kalevala—one of my personal favourites—which he presented on two occasions, in 1914 and 1915 (63). He wrote a revised version around 1919-1921, but possibly as late as 1924 (64). This is, notably, around the same time that Bombadil first appears in the ‘prose fragment’ mentioned above, and also around the same time that the whole ‘doll in the toilet’ ordeal would have occurred.
To date, there have not been nearly enough studies examining the potential impact of The Kalevala on the development of Bombadil, with some notable exceptions including David Elton Gay’s ‘J.R.R. Tolkien and the Kalevala: Some Thoughts on the Finnish Origins of Tom Bombadil and Treebeard’. I believe there is more material on the topic in Jyrki Korpua’s recent publication, Tolkien and the Kalevala (2024), but I admittedly have not yet reviewed this volume (part of the reason publication of the present paper has been delayed).
INFLUENCE OF THE KALEVALA ON TOLKIEN’S WORK
In the aforementioned essay, we can see that there are five key aspects or elements of The Kalevala that particularly interested Tolkien:
The Finnish language.
Story of Kullervo the hapless.
Mysterious objects of tremendous power (e.g. the Sampo).
Primary-world social, political, and cultural impact of the text as a ‘national myth’.
Uniquely non-IE mythic tone, including its ‘luxuriant animism’ and pagan atmosphere.
On the impact of Finnish language, we should also consider Letter 75 (written to his son Christopher in 1944), where Tolkien writes that “Finnish nearly ruined my Hon[our] Mod[eration]s, and was the original germ of the Silmarillion…” (Letter 75, 125). This was indeed the case. As a specialist in Indo-European (specifically Germanic) languages, going down the rabbit hole of Finnish (a Finno-Ugric language) was most certainly a deviation.
The importance of Kullervo as a narrative germ is well-attested, but it is perhaps under-appreciated just how formative this story was in the emergence of Tolkien’s mythology. In 1964, he wrote to Christopher Bretherton stating that “Finnish […] provided a glimpse of an entirely different mythological world. The germ of my attempt to write legends of my own to fit my private languages was the tragic tale of the hapless Kullervo in the Finnish Kalevala.” (Letter 257, 484-85). Kullervo was not merely a narrative thread in the early development of Tolkien’s Legendarium—it was a critical component of its very inception. Even very late in life, Tolkien considered this to be the key-spring of his mythopoeic project.
Regarding ‘mysterious objects of tremendous power’ (an obvious theme running throughout the Legendarium), Richard West (2004) and others have pointed out that such motifs are a core component of the Kalevala materials. West writes, “Both Randel Helms and Jonathan Himes […] argue that the Sampo, an object of mystery and power throughout the Kalevala, is a source for Tolkien’s Silmarils, or Jewels of Power” (292). While there are certainly other sources for such tropes to be found throughout European mythology, it is undeniable that The Kalevala is one of the most enigmatic.
On the primary-world importance of The Kalevala as a ‘national epic’, Flieger (2004) writes, “Like Lönnrot, “I propose that Tolkien envisioned himself […] constructing a world of magic and mystery, creating a heroic age that, although it might never have existed, would give England a storial sense of its own mythic identity” (281). While the need for such a ‘national myth’ was clearly less important for 20th century England than it was for 19th century Finland—and indeed Tolkien had complicated feelings about the notion of a ‘national myth’—it is evident that he, at least for a time, had just such a project in mind.
Finally, regarding the peculiar mythic atmosphere of The Kalevala, Shippey (2004) writes, “The romantic and mysterious Finnish mythology contributed a sense of grief and loss, together with a powerful foundation in natural beauty and love of the native land” (160). I will discuss this point at length below, as it forms a key component of my Bombadil theory.
THE TONE OF THE KALEVALA
Of the many mythic works that inspired Tolkien, The Kalevala is one of the few that didn’t arise in an Indo-European cultural and linguistic milieu. He writes, “there is something kindred in the imagination of the speakers of Indo-European languages” (Kullervo, 68). Despite no shortage of distinctions between Indo-European traditions—the Rig Veda and Beowulf are, after all, both Indo-European works arising from common cultural and linguistic ancestry—they nevertheless share some foundational commonalities in tone, scope, and ontology. In contrast, Finnic mythology prioritises (in Tolkien’s words) “the quaint tales, the outrageous ghosts, the sorceries and by-tracks of human imagination and belief that crop out here and there […] not to the haughty dignity and courage, the nobility of which the greater sagas tell.” (Kullervo, 71).
As someone who was equally interested in the ‘lower mythologies’ of folk and fairy tales as he was in the ‘higher mythologies’ of formal literary epics, this perceived quality in The Kalevala was certainly immensely compelling to Tolkien. He writes that “the queer and strange, the unrestrained, the grotesque is not only interesting it is valuable […] I would that we had more of it left – something of the same sort that belonged to the English” (Kullervo, 104-05).
THE ETERNAL BARD: VAINAMOINEN
Now, aside from Kullervo, there is another character in The Kalevala who I believe had a significant impact on Tolkien. He is in fact the ‘main character’ of the collection: the ‘eternal bard’ Väinämöinen. Throughout the collection, he is described as ‘eldest’ and ‘fatherless’, originally regarded as a divine or semi-divine figure—specifically the god of chants, songs, and poetry. He is often featured as a central figure in Finnic cosmogenesis myths, ‘singing the world into existence’ through his magical vocalisations. In Lönnrot’s Kalevala, his divine character is slightly minimised, instead becoming an explicitly ‘shamanic’ figure, known for his magical songs.
OLD AND STEADFAST (RUNO III)
The Kalevala is, of course, based on oral—and not written—tradition. This itself was important to Tolkien, deeming it to be part of the reason for its distinctive qualities. The collection was originally intended to be sung in what’s known as the Kalevala metre, a melody for which can be heard here.
It’s notable that, while Tolkien was the first to acknowledge that Kirby’s translation is very imperfect, it is the only major translation to try and fit within this Kalevala metre, which gives even the English version a peculiar poetic tone. For instance, below is Kirby’s translation of the beginning of Runo III:
Original:
“Vaka vanha Väinämöinen
elelevi aikojansa
noilla Väinölän ahoilla,
Kalevalan kankahilla.
Laulelevi virsiänsä,
laulelevi, taitelevi.”
Kirby’s Translation:
“Väinämöinen, old and steadfast
Passed the days of his existence
Where lie Väinölä’s sweet meadows,
Kalevala’s extended heathlands:
There he sang his songs of sweetness
Sang his songs and proved his wisdom.”
(The Kalevala, v1, trans. W. F. Kirby (Runo III, p. 20))
I should note that vaka in the original version means steadfast, and vanha means old— this formula appears a lot in the text. Where else have we heard a character routinely described as ‘old’ in the form of a song?
BLUE JACKETS AND WATER LILIES (RUNO III)
There are many places where we can find similarities between Väinämöinen and Bombadil’s adventures, and even specific descriptors and motifs. In this section in Runo III, Joukahainen (a Sámi shaman or wizard-like figure) sets out to contend with Väinämöinen in wisdom, but fails, so he challenges him to a duel of magic songs, which Väinämöinen eventually wins (Kirby translation, p. 20). West (2004) notes that this may have acted as an inspiration for Felagund and Sauron’s song battle.
“From his head, his cap, by singing,
Next became a cloud above him,
From his hands, his gloves, by singing,
Next were changed to water-lilies,
And the blue coat he was wearing,
Floats a fleecy cloud in heaven,
And the handsome belt that girt him,
In the sky as stars he scattered.”
(Kirby translation, Runo III, p. 28)
Note, among other things, the explicit reference to ‘water-lilies’.
VAINAMOINEN’S FISHING (RUNO V)
After losing the song battle, Joukahainen offers Väinämöinen his sister Aino’s “hands and feet” in marriage, but she refuses—and to circumvent this fate, she turns herself into a nixie-like water spirit who, notably, lacks hands or feet. In Runo V, Väinämöinen fishes for her in a lake, and catches her in the form of a fish (48):
“O thou pitiful old creature,
Väinämöinen, void of wisdom,
Thou hadst not the wit to hold me,
Vellamo’s young water-maiden”
(Kirby translation, Runo V, pp. 51-52)
It’s notable that many stories in The Kalevala deal with Väinämöinen’s search for a wife. It’s also noted that the ‘Vellamo’ mentioned above is a Finnish goddess of water/lakes/seas, not unlike the ‘River Woman’ who is identified as the mother of Goldberry.
JOLLY LANGUAGE
One of the things Tolkien most loved about the poetry in The Kalevala is that “meaningless syllables and even meaningless words that just sound jolly are freely inserted” (Kullervo, 77). He writes in his essay that:
“‘Enkä lähe Inkerelle
Penkerelle Pänkerelle’
or
‘Ihveniä ahvenia
Tuimenia Taimenia’
are possible where pänkerelle merely echoes Penkerelle, and Ihveniä and Tuimenia are merely invented to set off ahvenia and taimenia”
(Kullervo, 77).
In other words, pänkerelle, Ihveniä, and Tuimenia are essentially ‘nonsensical’ words with no discernible meaning. They are inserted into the verse strictly because of their aesthetic qualities, and their ability to elevate or ‘set off’ the meaningful words with which they are paired. Compare this with Bombadil’s seemingly ‘nonsensical’ songs in The Fellowship of the Ring, like:
“Hey dol! merry dol! ring a dong dillo!
Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow!”
or:
“Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! and merry-o,
Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!”
SIMILARITIES
In all, there is no shortage of similarities to be found between the characters of Bombadil and Väinämöinen, both in their personal attributes as well as some of the circumstances in which they find themselves:
• Bombadil and Väinämöinen are both identified as ‘eldest’.
• Both are regarded as ‘fatherless.’
• Both are bearded and wear a blue coat and hat.
• Both specialise in magical songs and use seemingly ‘meaningless’ language as a vehicle for enchantment.
• Both interact extensively with non-human beings, including trees.
• Both are endowed with shamanic characteristics.
• Both engage in magical ‘song’ battles of ‘fliting’ contests.
• Both seek a bride who is identified as the ‘daughter’ of a water spirit/goddess.
CHRONOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT
Are Bombadil and Väinämöinen’s similarities enough to establish a definitive correlation between the two? Not necessarily—but a chronological intersection would certainly support the case. To that end, it’s worth noting that when the character of Bombadil first emerged in the ‘germ’ pieces, Tolkien was at least ten years deep into his love affair with The Kalevala and had been working on materials pertaining to the collection (including both essays and original literature) all the while. This strongly suggests that the latter was on his mind when he began uncovering this character.
The isolation of the below dates is, of course, only part of the picture. Tolkien did a lot in this time, and there were certainly many things on his mind in these years. Furthermore, there is a good deal of uncertainty about the relevant writings of the 1920s: Tolkien’s revised ‘Kalevala’ essay, and the ‘Tombombadil’ prose fragment. I suspect that the former emerged either during or closely after his revision of the essay, but this may be impossible to confirm.
• 1910-11: Tolkien reads Kirby’s translation of The Kalevala.
• 1911: Tolkien checks out Eliot’s Finnish Grammar and begins exploring Lönnrot’s original text.
• 1912-1914: Tolkien composes The Tale of Kullervo.
• 1914 (Nov.): Tolkien delivers first talk ‘On ”The Kalevala” or Land of Heroes’ at Corpus Christi College.
• 1915 (Feb.): Tolkien delivers second talk on Kalevala essay at Exeter College.
• ca.1919-1921(1924?): Tolkien composes revised ‘Kalevala’ essay.
• 1920s: ‘Tombombadil’ appears in prose fragment.
• 1930s(?): Tolkien composes ‘germ’ of Bombadil poems.
• 1931: Tolkien begins ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil’ and produces Tengwar texts.
• 1934: ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil’ poem is published in Oxford Magazine.
• 1937: Tolkien considers Bombadil as the potential protagonist in a Hobbit sequel.
• 1938: Bombail and Goldberry are inserted into The Lord of the Rings, and thus the wider Legendarium.
IV. TOM’S ROLE IN THE LEGENDARIUM
Regarding Tom’s role in the narrative of The Lord of the Rings, Britta M. Colligs (2021) argues that Bombadil functions as a natural educator for the hobbits—an intermediary between the ‘human’ and ‘non-human’ worlds (73). In the Old Forest, the hobbits begin to feel some animosity against the trees, but with Bombadil and Goldberry, their perspective begins to change. We’re told that “they began to understand the lives of the Forest, apart from themselves, indeed to feel themselves as the strangers where all other things were at home.” (The Lord of the Rings, 145). Tom sits at the important boundary between domesticity and wilderness, inducting the hobbits (and the reader) into the wonders and perils of the living world. This could not have occurred at a more opportune moment, just as the hobbits would be called to widen their horizons and embrace the wonders of a world in which they do not rightly belong. They are the ‘others’ in this situation—not the other way around.
Part of my core argument is, of course, that Bombadil here acts as a kind of ‘shamanic’ figure: an intermediary between worlds—civilised and wild, material and immaterial, known and unknown. It is important to break the term ‘shaman’ down a bit, since its use can be seen as contentious in some (though certainly not all) circles. The word originally derives from Manchu-Tungus linguistic traditions, but in anthropological contexts it is routinely applied in manifold cultural contexts to refer to specialists who: engage with non-human beings and spirits; use trance states to journey to upper-, middle-, and under-worlds; and facilitate healing, protection, divination, or the recovery of ‘souls’ (often meaning something somewhat distinct from our common perception of ‘souls’).
While Bombadil doesn’t seem to use trance states, he does seem to do many of these things, particularly through his relational engagements with non-human beings, which include both biological beings (e.g. trees and badgers) and spirits (e.g. barrow-wights).
Shamans were, notably, a standard feature of traditional Finnish, Karelian, and Sámi societies, who themselves bear distinct commonalities with Siberian, Manchurian, and Tibetan shamanic traditions. Consider, for instance, the Sámi noaidi who, among other distinctly shamanic techniques, engage in the practice of joiking—a form of vocalisation which utilises purportedly ‘nonsensical’ utterances for the ‘magical’ purpose of invoking and engaging with others. A joik is, importantly, not a song about someone or something (or somewhere!), but rather the musical encapsulation of them. When you joik someone, you are singing their song—their musical embodiment (or, more literally, ‘enchantment’). Joiks are believed to be both intimate and powerful since, if you know the song of a person, you can influence, invoke, or engage with them in a highly specialised way. For this reason, joiking was heavily stigmatised and even outlawed during the colonisation of Sápmi, deemed to be a form of sorcery or witchcraft based in nefarious ‘Pagan’ practices.
There are, quite clearly, compelling similarities here to Bombadil’s use of song. He repeatedly states that he knows the ‘songs’ of beings, and uses such knowledge to engage with them in a near-‘magical’ fashion. “Old Man Willow?” he says, “Naught worse than that, eh? That can soon be mended. I know the tune for him. Old grey Willow-man! I’ll freeze his marrow cold, if he don’t behave himself. I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away” (The Lord of the Rings, 135, emphasis added).
DREAM AND SLEEP
Shamans are also often associated with dream work (as well as ‘journeying’, which is (usually) a different thing, but certainly not unrelated), and it is notable that the dreams the hobbits have in Tom Bombadil’s house (minus Sam) are profoundly significant. Frodo has two important dreams in particular, one (on the first night) in which he witnesses Gandalf’s escape from Orthanc, and one (on the second night) in which we has a vision of Valinor, explicitly foreshadowing his own approach to Valinor at the end of The Return of the King. As it reads in the final paragraphs of the narrative:
“And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.”
(The Lord of the Rings, 1069)
On both mornings, the hobbits awake from dreaming with Tom already in their room (“whistling like a starling”, as he is wont to do). Is Tom responsible for the dreams? It is impossible to say for certain, but it is very much not impossible, given that Tom is elsewhere strongly associated with sleep magic. In the poem ‘The Adventures of Tom Bombadil’, he can be seen using such powers on numerous individuals, including Goldberry, Old Man Willow, Badger Brock, and the Barrow Wight. Whether the hobbits’ dreams were a function of being in Bombadil’s house, an intentional intrusion from Bombadil himself, or something else entirely we may never know. But it is clear that these were more than ordinary ‘dreams’, and their timing is unlikely to have been mere coincidence.
V. TOM’S IMPACT: A UNIQUE MYTHIC ATMOSPHERE
The tale of Túrin Turambar certainly contains the most obvious narrative influences from The Kalevala, but I would argue that the Bombadil episode in The Lord of the Rings contains the most obvious tonal influences. Remember Tolkien’s comment that “I kept him in, and as he was, because he represents certain things otherwise left out” (Letter 153, 287). Through our exploration of The Kalevala, I think we can begin to piece together what some of things might be.
As Tolkien writes in his essay on The Kalevala: “The Religion of these poems is a luxuriant animism […] this means that in the Kalevala every stock and stone, every tree, the birds, waves, hills, air, the tables, swords and the beer even have well defined personalities which it is one of the quaint merits of the poems to bring out” (Kullervo, 80). His appreciation for these unique characteristics are nowhere better exemplified in The Lord of the Rings than in the Bombadil episode. In the Old Forest we have a character who, more than anyone else in the narrative, deeply understands and appreciates the personhood of the many others in his midst. While his relationships with such figures is not always strictly friendly, it is always relational rather than instrumental.
AN ANIMISTIC SPIRIT
It is itself notable that Tolkien was familiar with, and used (in a positive light) the term ‘animism’. Once thought (by EB Tylor) to be a ‘primitive’ form of religious belief centred around a belief in ‘spirits’, animism is not in fact a religion, but rather a relational worldview which embraces the personhood of non-human others. This was once the dominant view amongst all peoples in all parts of the world for the vast majority of our prehistory (and, outside of the West, most of our history as well). All shamans are animists by default, but not all animists are shamans. Bombadil is quite clearly an ‘animist’ for all intents and purposes, though I would argue that his specialised engagement with the other-than-human world neatly fits him into both categories.
One of the most famous modern definitions of animism comes from Graham Harvey, who writes:
“Animists are people who recognise that the world is full of persons, only some of whom are human, and that life is always lived in relationship with others […] Persons are beings, rather than objects, who are animated and social towards others (even if they are not always sociable) […] animism is more accurately understood as being concerned with learning how to be a good person in respectful relationships with other persons”
(Graham Harvey 2017, Animism: Respecting the Living World, xvii).
This is, I would argue, a rather perfect description of Bombadil’s relationship to the world. As Tolkien writes in Letter 153:
“He is […] an exemplar, a particular embodying of pure (real) natural science: the spirit that desires knowledge of other things, their history and nature, because they are ’other’ and wholly independent of the enquiring mind, a spirit coeval with the rational mind, and entirely unconcerned with ‘doing’ anything with the knowledge: Zoology and Botany not Cattle-breeding or Agriculture”
(Letter 153, 287).
TOM’S VALUES: DOMINION VS. RELATIONSHIP
In terms of the values that Tom represents, perhaps the most succinct summary is given to us by Goldberry (originally based on Tolkien’s own personal musings), in her response to Frodo’s question about the land ‘belonging’ to Tom. “No indeed!” she states, “That would indeed be a burden […] The trees and the grasses and all things growing or living in the land belong each to themselves” (Lord of the Rings, 139). In Letter 153, written to Peter Hastings (1954), Tolkien notes that “He is master in a peculiar way: he has no fear, and no desire of possession or domination at all. He merely knows and understands about such things as concern him in his natural little realm” (Letter 153, 287).
As Colligs argues, Tom Bombadil acts as a kind of filter through which we can understand the forest and ‘nature’ through a more eco-centric perspective (Colligs, 73). He explicitly represents a relational approach to the living world, rather than an instrumentalist and exploitative one. He is indeed a ‘natural educator’, not only for the hobbits but also for the reader, taking us out of the safety and familiarity of The Shire and into the ‘perilous’ other-than-human world. I argue that, in this regard, Bombadil most effectively represents Tolkien’s own ecological values.
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
In conclusion, I would venture to make the following statements about Tom Bombadil, which largely fly in the face of the accepted notion that he is wholly enigmatic and undefinable:
Tom is an indigenous and animistic inhabitant of the Old Forest, intimately connected to (what would become) the English countryside. This is, in my view, the most essential answer to the age-old question, ‘Who is Tom?’.
His ostensibly ‘shamanic’ power is derived from relationship, not domination or exploitation, and from the power of song.
Bombadil was modelled, at least in part, on Väinämöinen, perhaps approaching a kind of ‘British’ (geographically) correlate, and more broadly served as an embodiment of some of the ‘queer and strange’ elements that he found so captivating in The Kalevala.
He is the chief representative of Tolkien’s own deeply-felt ecocentric ethos in the face of instrumentalist modernity, and his own ‘animistic’ spirit. While expressed in many ways through the many layers of the Legendarium, it is perhaps in Bombadil that we see this spirit most dynamically and freely expressed.
TOM AND FAERY
In closing, I would like to share one of my absolute favourite quotes from Tolkien, appearing at the end of his ‘Smith of Wootton Major Essay’, the last essay he wrote in his lifetime. After a lifetime of research and literary output, these comments on ‘Faery’ act as a rather perfect bookend to some of the thoughts first expressed in his essay ‘On Fairy-stories’ decades earlier. It is difficult not to see bits of Bombadil in these comments.
“Faery represents at its weakest a breaking out (at least in mind) from the iron ring of the familiar […] More strongly it represents love: that is, a love and respect for all things, ‘inanimate’ and ‘animate,’ an un-possessive love of them as ‘other.’ This ‘love’ will produce both ruth and delight. Things seen in this light will be respected, and they will also appear delightful, beautiful, wonderful even glorious […] This compound - of awareness of a limitless world outside our domestic parish; a love (in ruth and admiration) for the things in it; and a desire for wonder, marvels, both perceived and conceived - this ‘Faery’ is as necessary for the health and complete functioning of the Human as is sunlight for physical life…”
(‘Smith of Wootton Major Essay,’ Smith, 144-45).
Far from a ‘meaningless enigma,’ Bombadil distills many of the qualities Tolkien saw as lying at the very heart of Faery—not as a static domain of escape, but as a living expression of reverence, wonder, and radical relationship. He is not a puzzle to be solved, but a presence to be encountered—an animistic guardian of the Perilous Realm, whose songs remind us that the world is alive, and that ‘enchantment’ is not an illusion, but a mode of being. Through Bombadil, Tolkien offers us a fleeting glimpse of a world animated by love without possession, knowledge without control, and joy without conquest. In the shadow of ecological crisis and spiritual malaise, Tom’s relatively ordinary ‘magic' may be exactly the kind of antidote we need—one that calls us not to mastery, but to dynamic kinship.
Bibliography
Primary Sources
•The Lord of the Rings (1984, single-volume de luxe edition)
•The Adventures of Tom Bombadil (2014, ed. Scull & Hammond)
•The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien (2024, rev. ed., ed. Humphrey Carpenter)
•The Return of the Shadow (2017, ed. Christopher Tolkien)
•Smith of Wootton Major (2005, ed. Verlyn Flieger)
•The Tale of Kullervo (2018, ed. Verlyn Flieger)
•Pictures by J.R.R. Tolkien (2021, ed. Christopher Tolkien)
Secondary Sources
Humphrey Carpenter, J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography (London: HarperCollins, 2016).
Britta Maria Colligs, ‘The Forest as a Voice for Nature: Ecocritcism in Fantasy Literature’, in Images of the Anthropocene in Speculative Fiction: Narrating the Future, ed. Tereza Dědinová, WeronikaŁaszkiewicz and Sylwia Borowska-Szerszun (London: Lexington Books, 2021).
Dimitra Fimi, Tolkien, Race and Cultural History: From Fairies to Hobbits (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010).
Verlyn Flieger, ‘A Mythology for Finland: Tolkien and Lönnrot as Mythmakers,’ in Tolkien and the Invention of Myth, ed. Jane Chance (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2004).
John Garth, Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle-earth (London: HarperCollins, 2003).
David Elton Gay, ‘J.R.R. Tolkien and the Kalevala: Some Thoughts on the Finnish Origins of Tom Bombadil and Treebeard’, in Tolkien and the Invention of Myth. Lexington, KY: The University Press of Kentucky, 2004.
Graham Harvey, Animism: Respecting the Living World, second ed.(London: Hurst & Company, 2017)
Leena Kahlas-Tarkka, ‘Finnish: The Land and Language of Heroes,’ A Companion to J.R.R. Tolkien, ed. Stuart D. Lee (Chichester: Wiley Blackwell, 2020).
Tom Shippey, ‘Tolkien and the Appeal of the Pagan: Edda and Kalevala,’ in Tolkien and the Invention of Myth, ed. Jane Chance (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2004).
Elizabeth Solopova, Langauges, Myths and History: An Introduction to the Linguistic and Literary Background of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Fiction (New York: North Landing Books, 2009).
Richard C. West, ‘Setting the Rocket Off in Story: The Kalevala as the Germ of Tolkien’s Legendarium,’ in Tolkien and the Invention of Myth, ed. Jane Chance (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2004).
I was not a fan of Tom Bombadil in LOTR, so found this article interesting, as it gave me an appreciation of why he was included and what he represented.
I’m so glad to read this as your presentation was one I really wanted to see but I think missed due to it being OHGOD am here in the US Pacific time zone lol. This was gorgeous and everything I hoped it would be, and an excellent example of how Tolkien is responsible for my own journey into being an animist!