A bit of something

Tolkien visits Valinor-by Windfola
(rather stupid, but I thought it was a nice touch to have the Valar and Tolkien bemoaning the corruption of Lord of the Rings.)

There came but lately to Valinor a man, one of the Atani, though few amongst the Followers have ever been granted such an audience, and still fewer have returned to tell the tale. And this man had indeed died and passed beyond the confines of the world, but he was recalled by the Valar, for Manwë wished to hold discourse with him.

Now when he came at last to the great halls in the Towers of Oiolossë, and stood before Manwë and Varda, he quailed at their power and their beauty, but they bade him be not afraid, though they had hard questions to put to him concerning his deeds in Arda during his life there.

And Manwë said sternly: "You were granted a gift, old man, the gift of knowledge, with the one purpose that you might use it wisely amongst your kin, passing on the histories of the lands and peoples of Arda, in full truth and without distortion, to those who would use them wisely."

"Yes Lord," replied the master, greatly troubled, for he feared the tone of Manwë's voice and felt dread in his heart at his words.

"And this you have tried to do," said Varda. "But little did you heed what might befall should that knowledge reach those who care not for the sacred texts and would use them to further the pride and vanity of the Dark Powers of him we do not name. For even now a great evil has spread across Middle-earth, yea even the evil of half-truths and of tales distorted, and the great deeds of the Children of Ilúvatar are lessened by it. Your toil has run away with you, Master Tolkien."

"Alas my Lady, you speak truly," replied the man. "But I was not granted the span to do otherwise for time overtook my endeavours, and I had to trust to others to continue my task. But I know what is in your mind. For have I not heard the petty wrangling of those who care only for the colour of Elven hair, or whether Balrogs have wings? Why some there are who spend their waking days in pondering the truth of the depth of the fords at Osgiliath, when I myself gave little thought to such matters. I am a master of tongues, lord, but no military historian. And have I not seen the mockeries of tales that would have great warriors more interested in carnal pleasures than the fight against evil? Why, they render the fair lands of Middle-earth a veritable brothel! And do I not tremble at the travesty that even now renders the Wars of the Ring a craven thrill for the entertainment of adolescents, turning hobbits into heartthrobs and elves into fairies? But I am not accountable for the evils that have come after.

"We of the Valar know that well, friend," replied Manwë gently, "for that is why you were chosen. You must go back. Only that will atone for the ills that have arisen, and you must undertake the task."