In March 1939, J.R.R. Tolkien delivered a lecture entitled Fairy Stories. The lecture was later modified and published as an essay. The subject is the role and endeavor of a writer who creates a fictional world. There are certain elements that give a story a sense of reality, and the ultimate goal of the artist is to create a believable world. In writing a successful fairy story, the reader must be convinced that it is true in the unique way that fictional stories can be true. In particular, with regard to fairy stories, there is a certain joy that cannot be absent. “When the sudden ‘turn’ comes we get a piercing glimpse of joy, and heart's desire, that for a moment passes outside the frame, rends indeed the very web of story, and lets a gleam come through.”

That “turn” in the story is the eucatastrophe, the good-turning-event, and it is the joy in this event that gives the whole story a sense of reality and the impression that there is a deeper reality. If “true” fairy stories carry a sense of good news, it is because they reveal the underlying truth. “It may be a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium in the real world.” This is what the artist really wants to get at. The creation of the story is one thing, but what it means is another. As St. John Paul II writes in his letter to artists, “Every genuine artistic intuition goes beyond what the senses perceive and, reaching beneath reality’s surface, strives to interpret its hidden mystery.”

The epilogue of Tolkien’s essay, into which we have already strayed but is really the focal point of this blog, expounds on the Gospels as true-to-history fairy stories. Tolkien is not at all implying that the Gospels are fiction. But what is amazing is that the Gospels contain the eucatastrophe par excellence.

“The Birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of Man’s history. The Resurrection is the eucatastrophe of the story of the Incarnation. This story begins and ends in joy. It has pre-eminently the ‘inner consistency of reality.’ There is no tale ever told that men would rather find was true, and none which so many skeptical men have accepted as true on its own merits. For the Art of it has the supremely convincing tone of Primary Art, that is, of Creation. To reject it leads either to sadness or to wrath.”

The Incarnation is the exemplar of art and the true inspiration of every artist, whether he knows it or not, because it is the verification of art, where myth and reality meet. Again, using the words of St. John Paul II, “It stirs that hidden nostalgia for God.” Tolkien writes, “This story is supreme; and it is true. Art has been verified. God is the Lord, of angels, and of men—and of elves. Legend and History have met and fused.”

There is a certain Christmas spirituality in art, where the artist renews the face of the earth, gives birth to the beauty that is inside him, reveals what is hidden through veiled images. All art, but especially the visual arts and especially, among those, sculpture, is incarnational. The Word is made flesh; the word in the heart and mind of the artist is wrought in the world. Beauty himself, who saves the world, comes among us as one of us; we create beautiful things to share with each other and bring glory to him. Jesus is the Good breaking through the walls of the world and shattering our small, self-centered cosmos to expose the true beauty for which we were made. In the case of art, there are many paths, but if followed rightly, as St. John Paul II, writes: “all lead to that infinite Ocean of beauty where wonder becomes awe, exhilaration, unspeakable joy.”