The Search for a National Mythos

This morning I finished reading Susan Cooper's excellent Over Sea, Under Stone, the first in her The Dark is Rising sequence. It was in many ways delightfully British, from characters who frequently declared something to be "smashing" to the incorporation of some of the Arthurian legends into the work. This sparked me thinking a bit more about Britain's national mythos, something that J.R.R. Tolkien also spent quite a bit of time thinking about. While many of us would assume that the stories of King Arthur are Britain's national mythology, or might even think for a bit on the tale of Beowulf and Grendel, Tolkien did not consider these uniquely British-- certainly they do not have the same close association with England that the Greek gods have with ancient Greece or that Odin and Thor, or the legends of Sigurd, have with Germany.

The tale of Beowulf and his triumph over Grendel comes from continental Europe, of course, and is thus not uniquely British. Tolkien noted that much of the Arthurian canon comes from the French rather than being native to Britain; it was partly this feeling, that England lacked a national mythology, that pushed Tolkien, a scholar of language and mythology, to his great work, the work that was not complete even at his death and has since been continued by his son Christopher. Middle Earth was in many ways an attempt to provide England with the mythology Tolkien felt it lacked. With its underlying mythology, cultures, languages, tales and history, Tolkien's work was decades in the making and the tales of Middle Earth have become some of the most popular of all time.

We in the United States also seem to lack a national mythology. Certainly there exists an abundance of Native American mythologies and religions, but the dominant culture pushed them aside with their practitioners as we overswept the continent with "Manifest Destiny" in our minds and hearts. I have heard it said that the Civil War is our national mythology, and it certainly seems at times to fit the description. The battles and leaders have become legend in the hundred and fifty years since the war occurred, spawning an endless number of books and movies, papers and photograph collections, to say nothing of the dedicated men and women who memorize and study the minutia of the war and participate in re-enactments. It marked a major turning point in our history; it is further appropriate as a national mythology as it was largely a conflict made inevitable due to the debate over slavery in the United States. The story of slavery is at the heart of our history, an institution that shaped us into who we have become, for good and for bad. It is not a side issue, as it is sadly sometimes portrayed in high school textbooks but the main issue in our history, an institution whose effects we are still dealing with today. The massive struggle that finally ended slavery in the United States seems epic enough to serve as a mythology.

I wonder what it says about us that we can take such pride in our national mythologies? It is certainly true that our mythos shapes us in many ways as a people, that the legends and stories we select as part of our mythologies speak to our culture, from the capricious Greek gods to the pantheism of many Native American belief systems. We seem to need these stories and tales. We look back at them for examples of great bravery and courage in the face of impossible adversity, for cautionary tales about the dangers of pride and greed. Like language, our myths shape us just as we shape them, a fascinating process to behold.