From his adolescence, J.R.R. Tolkien was interested in myths and legends of the ancient world. He never concealed his enduring passion for fantastic creatures—especially dragons—which he often included in his own stories. In a 1964 letter to Christopher Bretherton, he confided, “I was also interested in traditional tales (especially those concerning dragons).”
In two other letters written in 1955—one addressed to W.H. Auden and the other to Houghton Mifflin Co.—Tolkien recalls that, at the very early age of six or seven, he attempted to write a story or poem about a great, green dragon. His celebrated 1936 lecture on Beowulf, The Monsters & the Critics, also reveals his lasting fascination with this mysterious chapter in the history of old myths and religions. All of these instances seem to explain the regret that he expressed in another letter, from 1949, where, after stating, “I find ‘dragons’ a fascinating product of imagination,” he modestly admits, “The whole problem of the intrusion of the ‘dragon’ into northern imagination and its transformation there is one I do not know enough about.” Tolkien’s lack of scholarly knowledge about dragons didn’t stop him from drawing fully on his imagination to create stories where these mysterious beings are described in luxurious detail.
Heroes and Monsters
The legends of the First Age of Middle-Earth tell of several warriors who dared to fight terrifying creatures. For instance, The Silmarillion recounts the glorious deeds of Fingon, the eldest son of Fingolfin. In this context, readers witness the appearance of dragons, among them the famous Glaurung, also known as “The Great Worm” or “Morgoth’s Worm,” the very first of all the dragons of Middle-Earth. Brought to life in the underworld of the Angband fortress, Glaurung, the first of the Urulóki (the fire-drakes of the North) emerged from Angband’s gates by night. He was still young and barely half-grown, but even so, the Elves fled before him in dismay to Ered Wethrin and Dorthonion, as he defiled the fields of Ard-galen. Eager to demonstrate his destructive force, Glaurung set out to destroy everything in his path, giving Fingon a chance to prove his skills on the battlefield. Leading an army of mounted archers, the elvish prince forced the monster to retreat to his lair, humiliated.
However, it was not Fingon who would ultimately defeat Glaurung. That victory belongs to one of the most tragic heroes in all of Tolkien’s work—a hero whose fate, marred by a curse Morgoth placed on his entire family, remains unredeemed by his great victory over Morgoth’s Worm. Túrin Turambar, the courageous man who stood against Glaurung, endured a destiny shaped by one of the dragon’s magical powers: the ability to cast a spell upon any creature that meets their malevolent gaze.
As for Turambar’s own fatal mistake, it mirrors the deadly error of those who seek to possess Sauron’s One Ring for themselves. When given the chance by the kind King Thingol to choose a gift, Túrin desires the legendary sword Anglachel, “made of iron that fell from heaven as a blazing star.” Capable of piercing any metal on earth, this sword, later known as “The Black Sword of Brethil,” has a malevolent origin. Created by Eöl, the dark elf, the sword bears within its metal the malice of its blacksmith. Unaware of this detail, Túrin pays dearly for his desire to possess one of Middle-earth’s deadliest weapons—a weapon that would soon negatively influence his actions. On a dark, moonless night, Túrin mistakenly kills Beleg Cúthalion, his best friend and the very one who had saved him from Morgoth’s orcs. This same sword would ultimately end Túrin’s life as well, but not before he used it to slay Glaurung.
Intent on wreaking more havoc, Glaurung approached the forest of Brethil, waiting for an opportune moment to attack the villagers. Seeking the beast, Túrin took only two companions with him: Dorlas and Hunthor. Neither would be able to help him. Overcome with fear at the thought of fighting a dragon, Dorlas fled the battlefield in a shameful retreat. The courageous Hunthor was crushed by a huge stone dislodged by the dragon’s massive body. Driven by a mixture of fear and determination, Túrin faced Glaurung alone, relying solely on his own strength in a desperate yet heroic battle, in which he drove his sword into the belly of the beast:
Then Turambar seized the hilts and set his foot upon the belly, and cried in mockery of the dragon and his words at Nargothrond:
“Hail, Worm of Morgoth! Well met again! Die now and the darkness have thee! Thus is Túrin son of Húrin avenged.”
Then he wrenched out the sword, but a spout of black blood followed it, and fell on his hand, and the venom burned it. And thereupon Glaurung opened his eyes and looked upon Turambar with such malice that it smote him as a blow; and by that stroke and the anguish of the venom he fell into a dark swoon, and lay as one dead, and his sword was beneath him.
This terrifying and compelling scene masterfully presents one of the main characteristics of dragons: their magical power to influence victims through their gaze, offering them a distorted view of the surrounding world and life itself. Born of the wickedness of their creator, Morgoth, the prince of darkness, these creatures transmit their own destructive spirit through their enchanted gaze. In line with an ancient Judeo-Christian tradition that describes the power of fascination held by demons—whose purpose is to corrupt human minds—the author constantly emphasizes the polarity of Good and Evil, forces that clash on the battlefield of Arda.
Among all of the encounters with dragons depicted in The Silmarillion, none is as overwhelming as the moment when Ancalagon the Black is slain along with his entire army. Set during the so-called ‘War of Wrath,’ this battle centers on the renowned mariner Eärendil, who opposed the mightiest monster of that age. The legendary warrior’s intervention occurs at a pivotal moment in the battle between the armies of the Valar and those of Morgoth. As defeat looms, the master of Angband even risks deploying an entire squadron of dragons. At this critical moment, the mighty Eärendil himself appears, invincible and majestic:
But Eärendil came, shining with white flame, and about Vingilot were gathered all the great birds of heaven and Thorondor was their captain, and there was battle in the air all the day and through a dark night of doubt. Before the rising of the sun Eärendil slew Ancalagon the Black, the mightiest of the dragon-host, and cast him from the sky; and he fell upon the towers of Thangorodrim, and they were broken in his ruin. Then the sun rose, and the host of the Valar prevailed, and well-nigh all the dragons were destroyed.
Despite the incredible victory over Morgoth—a victory that led to the destruction of most of the dragons in Angband’s underworld—the heroes of Middle-earth would once again have the chance to face such dark creatures. Although not as spectacular as the battle between Túrin Turambar and Glaurung or that between Eärendil and Ancalagon, the confrontation between little Bilbo and the cunning Smaug is well-known to all admirers of Tolkien, the Master of Faërie. Smaug’s defeat is due to the courageous hobbit, who discovers the dragon’s vulnerable spot, although it is Bard the Bowman, the last of those skilled with the Black Arrow, who ultimately uses that knowledge to deliver the final strike.
Stories and Initiation Rites
There are countless stories that one might read about confrontations with dragons. As Mircea Eliade observes, writing about ancient initiation rituals, “It was impossible to omit combat with a reptilian monster.” Why is this episode present in nearly all major religious traditions, as well as in Tolkien’s stories? And why is this motif included in so many rites of initiation?
To explore this question, I will follow (as did one of the greatest scholars of folklore in the 20th century, Vladimir Yakovlevich Propp) the approach suggested by Georges Dumézil: “It is highly probable that the hero’s combat with a three-headed monster is the transformation into myth of an archaic initiation ritual.”
Using Dumézil’s insight as a foundation for his interpretation, Propp demonstrated—in his brilliant monograph Historical Roots of the Wonder Tale (1946)—that the origins of this recurring literary theme can be found in one of the oldest initiatory practices: the ritual of being swallowed by a dragon. Drawing on evidence from various ancient religions, Propp also identified the different forms that this ritual has taken.
One form of the ritual involves the neophyte crawling through a structure resembling a monstrous animal. In places where specific structures were built for this purpose, the terrifying creature was represented by a hut, a cabin, or a house of a distinctive kind. The novice was believed to be ‘digested’ and then reborn as a new person. In regions without such buildings, other types of structures served the ritual. For example, in Australia, the snake was represented by a complex hole or pit in the ground, the bed of a dried-up river, or a small shelter placed near a fallen tree trunk that had been carved to resemble a large beast’s mouth.
The history of religions records numerous variations on the ritual of being swallowed by a monster. In mountainous areas, the dragon is symbolized by a forest, which the neophyte must enter to kill a totemic animal—a wolf, fox, bear, etc.—as proof of his valor and skill as a warrior. Similarly, each grotto or cavern is imagined as a representation of the monster itself. Sometimes, unexplored waters in certain rivers or lakes come to symbolize the belly of the beast that will swallow the aspirant on his journey to becoming a fully realized man. Propp provides the best interpretation of such rites when he notes that “The time spent inside the belly of an animal bestowed upon the person to be subsequently regurgitated magic powers, namely the power over the animal itself.”
Achieving the ultimate goal of the adventure is only possible once the hero has absorbed the monster’s magical power, making him capable of defeating other great monsters. Viewed through the lens of this dragon-swallowing ritual, Tolkien’s stories appear as initiatory epic narratives.
The story of Beren “One Hand” involves many confrontations with monstrous beings, encounters that can be understood as ritual acts of “swallowing by the dragon”: the long journey through terrifying mountains and lands inhabited by enormous spiders, captivity in a well filled with wolves, and the battle with Carcharoth. These adventures culminate in the encounter with Morgoth, the fallen Ainur (angel) from whose black crown the courageous hero ultimately wrests a magical gem.
Other heroes in Tolkien’s works undergo similar rites of initiation. Although these rites may not always feature an explicit dragon battle, they often involve confrontations with other monstrous creatures. Aragorn, the hidden King, faces a trial of darkness when, accompanied by the elf Legolas and the dwarf Gimli, he traverses the terrifying Paths of the Dead beneath the Haunted Mountain (Dwimorberg). This comes after he and the other members of the Fellowship of the Ring venture through the tunnels of the dwarven kingdom of Moria. Gandalf, too, battles the immense Balrog in Moria’s underworld.
The most beautiful and subtle instance of “swallowing by the dragon” is represented by the crossing of enchanted woods. In a 2005 conference presentation entitled “Trees, Chainsaws, and Visions of Paradise in Tolkien,” Professor Thomas Shippey remarked that the forests in Tolkien’s stories often represent the world. To this interpretation, I would add that forests also symbolize the belly of a monster, which sometimes ‘swallows’ the heroes of Middle-earth. For instance, Frodo Baggins, along with Sam, Merry, and Pippin, enters the Old Forest, which Tolkien describes as a vast, sentient creature with malicious intentions.
This monstrous quality is also evident in other forests the hobbits encounter. Mirkwood, for example, resembles a colossal stomach filled with many watchful eyes tracking each step of the intruders. After escaping from the Uruk-hai orcs, Merry and Pippin encounter Fangorn Forest, which has similar monstrous qualities and is later crossed by Gimli, Legolas, and Gandalf. Tolkien’s descriptions of these woods reinforce the idea that forests are actually immense creatures, and by crossing them, human beings enter the belly of the beast. In this way, a symbolic and initiatory dimension is added to the epic journey of his heroes.
These episodes may also be linked to the dragon-swallowing ritual present in ancient religious traditions. Inspired by the Beowulf saga, Tolkien incorporated the mythical theme of dragon combat into the story of a character beloved by readers, despite his hero’s small stature and physical vulnerability. Bilbo Baggins undergoes several trials that transform him into a true hero: confrontations with monsters beyond the Shire, passage through orc-infested ravines in the Misty Mountains, the crossing of Mirkwood with its giant spiders, and ultimately his battle with Smaug. These experiences bestow upon the humble hobbit the strength and courage needed for his final confrontation. In the end, it is precisely this encounter with the dragon that transforms Bilbo once and for all into one of Middle-earth’s most celebrated heroes.
