The Mythmakers is a graphic story written for middle schoolers and older. The narrators of this biography/history are a lion (CS Lewis) and a Wizard (JRR Tolkien). The Mythmakers covers the life stories of each man in brief as well as going into detail on their ideas about storytelling and myths. Lewis and Tolkien shared some remarkable things in common but clearly they were two very different men whose friendship inspired them to write their greatest works. Yet their differences (other relationships, perhaps jealousy, differences in approach/subject matter for stories, and also religion) led to the eventual cooling of the friendship later in life.
Writer/illustrator Hendrix opens with the Lion and Wizard having tea and discussing fairy tales and myths. From here, Hendrix gives readers a lesson on what myths are, their origins and purpose, and their development around the world. It is a cursory overview but Hendrix offers additional “portals” (sections at the end of the book) on The Roots of Myth, the Origin of the Fairy Tale, the Fantasists (early fantasy writers for adults), and an “Artifact Attic” with extra interesting details about each writer and his works.
After the Lion and Wizard take the reader on this whirlwind tour of myth/fantasy, they begin the truly interesting part of the narrative (IMO) — the backgrounds of each man, how they met and how their friendship developed. Each man lost their mothers (and for Tolkien also his father) at young ages. Tolkien and his brother were raised Catholic, and after their mother’s death, a priest sort of took over their upbringing. Lewis, in Northern Ireland, lost his mother at a young age, and he and his brother were sent to boarding school — a terrible experience for him and one that stayed with him. Both Tolkien and Lewis served in the trenches in WWI, seeing horrific bloodshed and death. While Tolkien’s faith remained an important part of his life, Lewis became an atheist, although a struggling one. When the two men met at Oxford after the war, where they were both teaching, they struck up a friendship over their mutual love of Norse myths, forming a society which eventually became the Inklings. Tolkien and Lewis loved talking about myths and stories, and the joy involved in creation. They inspired each other to write and drew other creative literary men into their circle.
By the time WWII began, cracks were becoming evident in their relationship. Lewis’ writings and radio broadcasts were wildly popular at home and abroad. He had a knack for writing quickly and produced a lot, while Tolkien spent years and years on his world-building. The Hobbit had been very successful but his follow up— what would eventually become The Lord of the Rings Trilogy — was taking decades. Hendrix suggests that Tolkien might have felt some jealousy for Lewis’s success, but the bigger issue for Tolkien was the nature of Lewis’ output. Having had a conversion experience, Lewis now wrote often about religion and faith, something that Tolkien felt was inappropriate for a layman. Hendrix also says that Tolkien was a bit put out by Lewis’ friendship with another Inkling member. Post-war, when Lewis shared his first installments of Narnia with Tolkien, Tolkien apparently told him in no uncertain terms that it was bad. Tolkien’s views on fantasy/myth/world building were pretty strict, and Lewis’ fiction for children just felt wrong (and maybe like a betrayal) to Tolkien. Meanwhile, when Tolkien finally finished his draft of LOTR, Lewis was very supportive and happy for him. Hendrix reports that Tolkien wrote letters to Lewis over the years apologizing for his harsh remarks, but the damage had been done. Lewis’ secret marriage to the American divorcee Joy Davidman added to the two men’s estrangement; Lewis knew that Tolkien, like many others, would disapprove of his marriage to a divorced woman (forbidden in both the Church of England and Roman Catholic Church). Joy died in 1960 from cancer and Lewis died three years later on the same day that JFK was assassinated.
While Lewis and Tolkien were on friendly terms at the end of their lives, the friendship was not what it once had been. It’s rather sad to read about it, but it also is something that is rather common in adult friendships, I think. Professional differences and personal differences can be disruptive if we allow them to be, and some matters that seemed so vital to us in our youth might seem like less of a big deal when we are older and wiser. Lewis and Tolkien were extraordinary men of extraordinary talent, and if they had never met, we might never have had some of the best known and loved works of modern literature.