Postscript by Simon, June 28 2015: this post constituted an initial attempt to articulate a comprehensive framework for the project that I now feel should be discarded.

In concrete terms, the fit between such key terms as magic and splinterings (etc.) seems just too loose and the resultant essay looked in danger of being overly speculative. More generally, while there do appear to be some theoretical frameworks serving as the metaphysical scaffolding of Middle-earth, such frameworks (as Flieger shows) relate to such themes as the meaning of time in relation to changes of both light and language and (consequently) the nature of myth in relation to history. But while 'magic' has a role of some sort, it seems a mistake to search for too systematic a theory of its nature in Middle-earth.

To say the same from a quite different perspective: the kind of questions we are asking are not going to find precise answers in Verlyn Flieger's first book, Splintered Light, whereas her second book, A Question of Time, is likely to provide a key to most issues.

End of postscript

Question: how to think about magical images as they appear in the story of The Lord of the Rings.

Point 1: Temporal location.

Flieger's Splintered Light argues that the temporal unfolding of events as told in the Silmarillion is one of dividing and fragmentation of an initial or original unity. Crucially, this process of splintering is said to apply to both light and logos (i.e. words). From this perspective, Elves, as the older race, are somehow creatures of a less fragmented world - the light and the word are (as it were) more wholesome in them. This is most vividly illustrated in the fact that those Elves who made the journey to Valinor literally saw the light - a light which went out of the world before Men ever appeared.

If the destruction of the light of Valinor (by Morgoth and Ungoliant) is one turning point in the process of fragmentation, another is the destruction of Númenor at the end of the Second Age, or rather the change from a flat to a round world that occurs with it: for after this the 'straight way' across the ocean to Valinor is lost and the idea of Faërie, or the undying lands in the west, becomes, at least for Men, a metaphor or myth (the division of an original concrete meaning into distinct literal and metaphorical meanings is a crucial component of the splintering of logos, according to Flieger).

All of which is to say that the time in which we are concerned - the close of the Third Age - is one in which the original unity, if far less fragmented than in our own age today, is nevertheless much more so than in the First Age of the world.

Point 2: Gathering Magic

(Following Flieger and Tom Hillman) we can equate the gathering of splinters as an act of magic. Galadriel's mirror, the Palantíri, and perhaps also Frodo's dreams are all gatherings of (splintered) light that allow for magical (far and also fore-) sight. Equally, the gathering of memories into a book, the Red Book - a history of the war of the Ring and the return of the king - is an act of gathering that gives rise to an enchanted story (on which more in a moment).

Such a definition of magic needs to be squared with Tolkien's own statements about magic - see the Wiki page on this - which in themselves do not entirely square. But my strong intuition is that the fit is there.

What is perhaps worth noting here about Tolkien's specific statements on magic is his insistence that magic may be used by both Elves (and wizards) and by the Enemy: in the hands of the former it is (always?) a form of sub-creation; whereas for the latter rather a means of domination. Also note that the machine for Tolkien is a form of magic. Thus we should not be surprised to find that Sauron (the great eye) and the Ring (which allows far sight) possess magical powers akin to, say, Galadriel and her mirror; nor should we assume that modern technology (e.g. cgi) is a non-magical art (this last point pertains to the postscript below).

Point 3: Image and Word circa 1950

In addition to the above propositions, I propose the following two theses:

Firstly, Tolkien held that in his day (i.e. the early and mid-20th century) the visual magic of the Elves had (almost?) entirely disappeared from the world, but that (fragments and splinters of)the word magic of the Elves still remained.

Secondly, this notion of a residual lingering of word magic provides a key to reading Tolkien's famous lecture on Fairy Stories, in which fairy stories are posited as a form of sub-creation (a gathering) that is essentially an Elvish art of enchantment (i.e. magic). Of course, the mortal who aspires to this art of enchantment cannot hope to reach the heights of true Elvish art, but he can nevertheless engage in a form of magic - perhaps the only form of magic left to Men.

(Note: this is perhaps not relevant to the main argument but it is my opinion/intuition that in distinguishing between fairy stories of Elves and Men Tolkien was distinguishing in his own mind between the tales of the Silmarillion and those of The Lord of the Rings - the first, to his mind, were (somehow) real Elvish stories, the second stories composed by mortal Men - be they Hobbits or Tolkien himself.)

This is a novel reading of 'On Fairy Stories' in that it posits a direct connection in terms of content between the ideas of the lecture and the (magical) nature of Middle-earth. For in his exploration of the art of writing fairy stories Tolkien is at once (albeit implicitly) tracing the form of magic found in the fairy story that he is preparing to write. Put simply: The Lord of the Rings, as Tolkien's greatest fairy story, is in itself a fragment of a form of magic (enchantment) more common (if still, by then, rare) at the close of the Third Age.

Point 4 (a postscript): Movie vs. Book

If the above framework is fleshed out and found to work it provides an interesting perspective from which to revisit the hoary debate about the virtues (or lack thereof) of the movie versions of Tolkien's books. To be clear, I do not suggest that we enter into this debate at all; but we can conclude the essay by pointing to how the issue could be framed. Concretely: the question would seem to be whether the advances in cgi and other movie technology of recent years means that we today - unlike in 1950 - have the potential to aspire to the Elvish art of visual as well as oral/written magic? And, of course, if the answer is yes the question still remains as to whether the movies of Peter Jackson are closer to Elvish magic or to the arts of the Enemy?