At one point in Ulysses, the character John Eglinton (a pseudonym of William Kirkpatrick Magee, poet, essayist, and assistant librarian at Dublin's National Library) says: "After God Shakespeare has created most." I have a corollary: After Shakespeare Tolkien hath made most.

While he penned important scholarly tracts and other works of fiction, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Silmarillion comprise the glittering heart of J.R.R. Tolkien's canon. I too could write a trilogy celebrating his achievement. One volume would examine how well he does all the basics: dialogue, exposition, character development, prose style—he writes as well and as memorably as anyone.

In a second book I'd celebrate Tolkien's poetry. Strewn throughout his canon are poems of many styles, tones, lengths, and even languages, some quaint, some nonsensical, some astonishing, all of high technical skill. Even those casually familiar with The Lord of the Rings likely know "The Riddle of Strider," a kind of proof of identity for an incognito Aragorn:

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

 

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

Another familiar verse is the sinister inscription on Sauron's One Ring, a couplet in the Black Speech of Mordor but inscribed with maximum mockery in the flowing Elvish font of Tengwar:

Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,

Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.

Which famously translates as:

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them.

For poetic invention taken to dizzying heights, consider the lofty, dare I say holy hymn of praise to the goddess Varda Elentári, known in Sindarin as Elbereth Gilthoniel, Queen of the Valar who dwells across the sea in the Uttermost West:

A Elbereth Gilthoniel

silivren penna míriel

o menel aglar elenath!

Na-chaered palan-díriel

o galadhremmin ennorath,

Fanuilos, le linnathon

nef aear, sí nef aearon!

And here's that sonorous Sindarin in English:

O Elbereth Starkindler

white-glittering, slanting falls, sparkling like jewels

from the firmament, the glory of the starry host!

Having gazed afar into remote distance

from the tree-tangled Middle-lands,

Snow-white, to thee I will chant

on this side of the ocean, here on this side of

the Great Ocean.

Dedicate a third volume to Tolkien's architectonics as the schema of his books transcends mere plot. Spectacular as they are, Peter Jackson's films hardly do justice to Tolkien's planetary creativity: Tolkien wrought a world at the cellular level, populating Middle Earth not only with human characters but whole races of other beings—gods and demigods, balrogs, elves, ents, dragons, dwarves, orcs, trolls, and, of course, those beloved hobbits. What's more and what beggars belief, each race has its own fully developed language (even dialects) and each has its history spanning millennia. However astonishing, languages are an understandable forte of Tolkien's since he was an Oxford professor and philologist specializing in Old and Middle English, as well as Old Norse and related Norse and Icelandic mythology. And well before becoming an Oxford don, a teenaged Tolkien enjoyed inventing constructed languages with his cousins.

One of the supreme marvels of Tolkien's architectonics has to be his world's cosmogony. The creation story presented in The Silmarillion is, to this reader's sensibilities, far and away the most dazzlingly beautiful of all such myths. What an exquisite conceit! All of reality is the playing out of music in Eru Ilúvatar's (i.e. "God's") mind, a ballad of what obtains called The Ainulindalë. Each member of the two tiers of gods and goddesses—the Valar and the Maiar—constitutes an individual theme of music; the god Melkor is the embodiment of the theme of discord.

As mentioned, I could write volumes. As a succinct, altogether poetic way to appreciate his genius, just look—and listen—to Tolkien's proper nouns, the names he coined for characters, places, treasures, and weapons. Along with the actual meaning of their constituent roots, there's an uncanny onomatopoeia to his names—just by sound alone you get a sense of whether an entity is malevolent or benign. With whom would you rather have dinner, Gothmog or Galadriel? Which destination sounds more enticing, Rivendell or Mordor? And how would you like to travel there, on the back of Shadowfax or Smaug?

Among Tolkien's proper nouns, here are a dozen of my favorites.

Andúril - formerly Narsil, a sword forged by Telchar, greatest of dwarven smiths, then re-forged by elves in Imladris (Rivendell) and re-named by Aragorn as "Andúril: The Flame of the West" from the Quenya (High Elvish) andúnë (sunset, west) and ril ("brilliance").

Angband - Morgoth's subterranean fortress built beneath the Iron Mountains and capital of his dread domain; in Sindarin (Grey Elvish) means "iron prison."

Angrist - a knife forged by Telchar with which the man Beren cut a Silmaril from Morgoth's iron crown; in Sindarin means "iron cleaver."

Ecthelion - Elf-lord and Captain of the Fountain in the city of Gondolin who slew Gothmog Lord of Balrogs in single combat and was also killed; name means "Lord of the Fountains."

Galadriel - described by Tolkien as "greatest of elven women," an Elf-princess of immense wisdom and power; in Sindarin means "maiden crowned with a radiant garland" or "maiden crowned with gleaming hair."

Gothmog - Lord of Balrogs, those Maiar who followed Melkor in revolt and became harrowing fiery monsters; in Quenya means "dread force."

Gurthang - formerly Anglachel, a sword forged from black meteoric metal by the elven smith Eöl; in Sindarin means "death iron."

Lúthien Tinúviel - Elf-princess, daughter of Elf king Elwë Singollo (Thingol) and the Maia Melian; most beautiful of all female beings in Middle Earth; her name blends Sindarin and Quenya: "daughter of flowers" and "nightingale."

Mordor - Sauron's realm, a barren volcanic landscape home to Orodruin, or Mount Doom, the volcano in which Sauron forged the One Ring and in which it's ultimately destroyed; in Sindarin meaning "black land" or "land of shadow" (Led Zeppelin references Mordor and its "darkest depths" in the song "Ramble On").

Morgoth - formerly Melkor, one of the most powerful of the Valar and the physical embodiment of evil; in Sindarin means "dark enemy" or "black foe."

Nazgûl - nine men to whom Sauron gave rings of power which corrupted them into deathless wraiths, his strongest, most feared servants; in the Black Speech means "ring wraith."

Valinor - home of the Valar and Maiar also known as "The Blessed Realm" and "The Undying Lands;" in Quenya means "Land of the Valar."

Rich in sonic impact, profound in etymology and lore, Tolkien's proper nouns are but a facet of literature's greatest achievement. After Shakespeare.