"And the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void. Never since have the Ainur made any music like to this music, though it has been said that a greater still shall be made before Ilúvatar by the choirs of the Ainur and the Children of Ilúvatar after the end of days."
The Silmarillion, Ainulindalë

In a 1972 letter, J.R.R. Tolkien despaired, "I fear you may be right that the search for the sources of The Lord of the Rings is going to occupy academics for a generation or two" (Letter 337 to Mr. Wrigley). He was certainly correct with respect to scholarship on the Ainulindalë, the creation myth found at the beginning of The Silmarillion. I have seen scholars explore Norse, Platonic and--of course--Hebrew connections to Tolkien's cosmogony. In some instances, the authors admit to drawing a blank; in others--usually Christian authors seeking validation for the primacy of a Christian worldview in reading the legendarium--the creative lengths gone to find connections say more about the authors than they do the Ainulindalë.

The fact is that the Ainulindalë is the Ainulindalë--it is not "based" on any other creation story. At the risk of falling into the same "Tolkien intended" fallacy of people who usually stand on the opposite side of debates from me, Tolkien would have bristled at the suggestion that he lifted his creation story from an existing myth or that he intended it as homage to a particular spiritual tradition. (I could write a whole essay on this point alone but won't--for now. To answer the inevitable "But Tolkien was Christian!" protests, I will point to Letter 131 to Milton Waldman, in which Tolkien wrote of the weakeness of the Arthurian legends as a myth for Britain: "For another and more important thing: it is involved in, and explicitly contains the Christian religion.") However, part of what makes the Ainulindalë powerful as a story--and probably part of the reason that Tolkien fans venture down the path, looking for sources, of which Tolkien despaired--is that it makes deep and thoughtful use of creation myth archetypes: It gives a feeling of familiarity even as it stands on its own as a story. One archetype in particular, the deus faber or "god as maker" archetype, prefigures key themes in the legendarium and elevates the very act of storytelling that ultimately produces the books we love.
 

Archetypal Roots of the Ainulindalë

Archetypes are patterns seen in myths and stories across culture and time period. Nearly all (dare I say all?) cultures have a creation myth: a way of explaining the origin of the universe, Earth, and/or humankind. These stories function as what Barbara C. Sproul termed "self-fulfilling prophecies": Through their claims that something was always or was intended to be a certain way by a creative force greater than humankind, they throw the weight of inevitability behind values and traditions that might otherwise be subject to questioning or change. Looking at these stories in bulk, certain archetypes emerge.

In 1963, Charles H. Long proposed that all creation stories fit into one of five broad archetypes: creation from nothing, creation from chaos, emergence (where creation emerges from a hole in the Earth or universe), world-parent (where a god is cut into pieces or two gods couple to make the world), and earth-diver (where an animal dives for mud at the bottom of the primal sea, forming the Earth). Tolkien would have undeniably been familiar with creation stories fitting the first three patterns. David Adams Leeming took Long's work a step further, pulling smaller archetypes--motifs, he termed them--from the body of world creation myths.

Now some might object that, in calling the Ainulindalë archetypal, I'm already contradicting myself. Archetypes, though, are patterns upon which stories are built, like a dress pattern produces a particular shape of a dress while allowing for great variation in fabric, lengths of skirt and sleeves, and ornamentation so that two dresses can be produced with little resemblance to each other. The hero's journey archetype, for instance, is probably the archetype familiar to most and one that fits stories as diverse as The Epic of Gilgamesh and Star Wars ... or The Tale of Beren and Lúthien or The Lord of the Rings. The Great Flood is another, found on every continent on Earth ... and twice in The Silmarillion. We could debate why archetypes exist--my favorite paper I wrote in grad school, aside from my thesis, proposed a quantum explanation for archetypes--but I'll just be wishy-washy and say that human creativity seems drawn to certain patterns. This means that one can use archetypes without being aware of them, so the Ainulindalë can employ multiple archetypes (it does) without Tolkien "intending" to use them as sources. Given his affection for mythology, he would have certainly been aware of creation mythology for the Western canon, as well as Egyptian, Mesopotamian (he mentions familiarity with both cultures in his letters), and given British colonialism, likely Hindu and possibly some African traditions as well. In short, he would have likely--deliberately or not--sussed out the kinds of patterns that make a creation story "feel real." Or some archetypes just make sense in a cosmogonical context. Leeming argues, for example, that so many cultures used creation-from-thought archetypes in their myths because we are used, as humans, to initiating any action with thought.

An incomplete list of motifs found through world creation myths that Leeming identifies and that Tolkien uses in the Ainulindalë: creation from nothing, lack of mate for the creator god, corruption of creation by a disruptive force, emphasis on the creation of humankind, the primal nothingness or void, explanation for the reason for human death, thought-based creation, word-based creation, representation of the creator as a father, and explanation for the origin of evil.

But the most important archetype, I'd argue, is the deus faber or god-as-maker archetype. In this pattern, a creator forms the universe, Earth, or humankind by practicing a human art or craft. A familiar example of this is sculpting humankind from clay, or--in the case of the Ainur--forming the universe from song.
 

Creation from Song and the Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

"Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashion the theme of Ilúvatar to a great music ..."
The Silmarillion, Ainulindalë

This quote is the beginning of the passage that culminates in today's B2MeM prompt. The key here is that the Ainur are creating a vision of the universe--a vision that Ilúvatar, through his exclusive power of creation, will make real--with their voices. I've seen the question raised as to whether the Ainur are singing with words, but I think this is secondary to the incontrovertible point that they are using their voices, thus beginning a tradition of shaping reality through song, i.e., storytelling. Here it is important to clarify the definition of song. The popular understanding of a vocal song is a lyrical piece of music that usually expresses an emotion. Some songs are narrative (or have narrative elements), but popularly, songs are rarely thought of being narrative as their primary purpose. However, through much of human existence, a primarily function of song was just that: to tell (or preserve) a story. Most ancient and medieval texts are believed to have their origin in song--that is, the oral tradition. This includes the Northern cultures and traditions that most interested Tolkien the scholar: the Anglo-Saxons, Norse, and Finns with their scops, skalds, and rune singers whose songs, captured in writing, formed the heart of Tolkien's academic interests and creative inspiration.

What is interesting about the Ainulindalë is that nowhere that I've found in world creation myth does a real-world culture use creation from song to form the universe. Upon a background of familiar archetypal elements, including the concept of deus faber, Tolkien introduces this twist, bringing the mode of song--of vocal song--to the fore upon a backdrop of otherwise familiar elements.

Recall Sproul's characterization of creation myths as "self-fulfilling prophecies" that reveal what a culture most values. The deus faber element of creation from song predicts that the legendarium will value vocal song.

And it does. Song is power. Finrod nearly defeats Sauron with a song; Lúthien does do what powerful princes and armies cannot and claims a Silmaril from Morgoth, her only weapon a song. The skilled singers of Middle-earth--Lúthien Tinúviel and Daeron and Maglor--are identified for this reason: Through their gifts, they hold considerable power. (Consider how we know little to nothing of the great sculptors, painters, dancers, and architects of Arda, even though they certainly existed.) Likewise, we have the titles of several songs that are otherwise unwritten, such as the Noldolantë and the Aldudénië. These songs, we are led to believe, shape understanding of the past. They make meaning from the chaos of infinite actions found within a span of time--an example of creation from chaos, a smaller incarnation of the Ainulindalë.

The sound of water is said to echo the music of creation (hence this year's B2MeM theme) and so water develops a special relationship to the song--to the larger story of Arda--as well. Water is the chief mode through which Ulmo--one of the only Valar to remain sympathetic to the exiled Elves and Mortals in their war against Morgoth--communicates with the Elves. From this comes creative impetus: the cities of Gondolin and Nargothrond are built at the urging of Ulmo. These are not only creative achievements in their own right but their existence becomes a key theme in the song. Turgon stows a suit of armor and Tuor seeks it at the urging of Ulmo, enacting with the birth of Eärendil another essential movement in the song, a theme that will carry through until at least the Fourth Age.

Crossings of the sea likewise become key themes in the song: the journey of the Elves to Aman, followed by their exile from it--one group by ship and the other across the Ice--Eärendil's voyage to Aman; the various expeditions of the Númenóreans, first to Númenor and then to Middle-earth (encountering Sauron and bringing him back) and finally, in rebellion, to Aman; the passage of the Elves, then Frodo, then Sam, into the West. Crossings of the sea mark major movements in the song (often the beginnings or ends of ages) as can only be permitted by the element that contains the original Music: water.

Water exerts a destructive power as well, whelming first Beleriand and then Númenor. It literally reshapes the world and so changes and serves as a coda within the song: ending the First and Second Ages and the stories they contain, consigning their songs to history--or more likely, the oral tradition.

And so we come to the legendarium itself, conceived by Tolkien as an in-universe telling of the song. "The deus faber creation," wrote Leeming, "is a celebration of human ingenuity and a justification for what we do" (page 321). The creation of the world through vocal song makes those later tellings an imperative--echoing Tolkien's own words that "we make still by the law in which we're made," what he termed subcreation--as well as valuing it highly, literally an imitation of the divine and the mode by which the universe exists ("On Fairy-stories"). Those bearers of the song--Rúmil and Pengolodh, Elrond, Ælfwinë, Bilbo and Frodo and Sam (and J.R.R. Tolkien?)--are elevated, doing more than merely entertaining but serving as the mode by which understanding is shaped and truth is distilled.

Works Cited

David Adams Leeming. Creation Myths of the World: An Encyclopedia. 2nd ed.
Charles H. Long. Alpha: The Myths of Creation.
Barbara C. Sproul. Primal Myths: Creating the World.
J.R.R. Tolkien. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
J.R.R. Tolkien. "On Fairy-stories" (The Tolkien Reader).
J.R.R. Tolkien. The Silmarillion.

Much of this work draws from my presentation The Root of the Tree of Tales: Using Comparative Myth and "On Fairy-Stories" to Analyze Tolkien’s Cosmogony, given at Mythmoot II in 2013. (See also the video and slideshow.)