The Mysterious Musti, Part 2

Tolkien, then, takes up an undeveloped character from the original Kalevala and allows his imagination soar to create the magical, mysterious Musti of The Story of Kullervo. Why does he do this? Tolkien obviously sees an opportunity to enhance the plot and characterization of his version of the tale. First off, Musti, as Tolkien presents him, clarifies some vexing plot questions that are left unanswered in the Kalevala. How, for instance, does Kullervo learn his magic? According to Tolkien, the wise Musti teaches him (10). How does the young Kullervo survive three attempts on his life? Musti provides three magical hairs that somehow protect Kullervo and prevent his death (11). How does Kullervo escape the enraged smith Āsemo? Musti's magic surrounds Kullervo so that no one can follow him (32). 

Further, Tolkien uses Musti to introduce a depth of characterization to his narrative. Musti is a mystery, and readers wonder who or what Musti really is. Is he merely a dog that just happens to be magical? Or he is something else that just happens to be in the form of a dog? Where did Musti get his powers? How does he know how to exercise them? How does he communicate with Kullervo? These tantalizing questions tickle readers' minds and engage them with the character of Musti and the story itself. Moreover, Musti's demise adds an additional element of character-driven tragedy to Tolkien's story. When Kullervo falls over the dead body of the hound, most readers' hearts probably skip a beat or two. How can the powerful, magical Musti die? Was he killed by Kullervo? What will Kullervo do without him? With his last companion gone and no guidance or further protection (even from himself), Kullervo meets his death and follows Musti to his tragic end. 

In Musti, Tolkien recognizes a prime opportunity to exercise his vivid imagination and make the story of Kullervo his own. Musti, who receives the barest mention in the original Kalevala, becomes an intriguing central character in Tolkien's version of the tale. The hound enhances the plot and characterization of The Story of Kullervo and also offers a choice example of how Tolkien embraces tradition but also adds to it and shapes it to meet his own narrative needs and imaginative inclinations.

The Mysterious Musti, Part 1

Although the mysterious Musti weaves his way enticingly through J.R.R. Tolkien's The Story of Kullervo, the black hound appears only sparingly in the original Kalevala. Clearly, Musti and all his potential sparked Tolkien's imagination, for Tolkien makes the dog a character in his own right and, in doing so, enhances the plot and characterization of the original tale. 

In the Kalevala, Musti turns up only at the very end of the story. Kullervo has just come home from taking his revenge on Untamo, and he finds an empty house. His parents and siblings have all died in his absence, but his mother has one last message for him from beyond the grave. She tells him to take the black dog Musti as a companion and go into the forest to seek the help and favor of the Blue Maids (Runo XXXVI). Kullervo and the dog enter the forest, but there Musti's role ends. Readers hear no more of him as Kullervo falls on his sword and ends his life although presumably Musti witnesses his death. 

Tolkien, in contrast, makes Musti a character in his own right, developing him into a magical, mysterious hound who serves not only as a companion but also a guardian and teacher to Kullervo and his sister Wanona. In The Story of Kullervo, Musti makes his first appearance as an ally to Kalervo in his feud with Untamo. The dog devours the cattle Untamo sets loose in Kalervo's fields (6). The hound, however, is not present when Untamo raids Kalervo's homestead, kills Kalervo, and carries off the captives (8). Musti follows his family and later befriends Kalervo's children, teaching them about their father and about “things darker and dimmer and farther back even perhaps before their magic days...” (10). 

Here Tolkien drops a few tantalizing hints about Musti's true nature. Musti, he explains, is “the wisest of hounds” (10). No one knows exactly where he came from or when he was born, but he is a powerful dog “of fell might and strength and of great knowledge” (10). He understands the secrets of wild creatures, but even more extraordinary is Musti's magic. He can shift his shape to take on the image of wolves or bears or cattle and perform “much other magic besides,” as he would soon demonstrate (10). After warning Kullervo of Untamo's violent designs, Musti gives the young man three of his black hairs, which protect Kullervo from death by drowning, fire, and hanging (11). 

Musti remains a powerful companion to Kullervo even after the young man is sold into slavery. The dog follows him and wanders with him in the wilderness, teaching him to interact with wild animals (20). After Kullervo uses that knowledge, with a bit of magic of his own, to kill Āsemo's wife, he flees with Musti by his side (32). The hound's magic wraps around Kullervo, protecting him from harm and preventing anyone from following him. 

The black dog disappears from the tale as Kullervo meets and enters into an incestuous relationship with his sister. Was Musti present during this time, or was he off on errands of his own? Tolkien leaves readers to draw their own conclusions. Musti returns only in the unfinished notes at the end of the story when Tolkien mentions that Kullervo trips over the dead body of Musti after the raid on Untamo (40). The magical dog has finally met his end, and readers wonder if he had been killed by the one to whom he had been such a loyal companion.

Better Out than In: Healthy and Unhealthy Desires in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part 4

The climax of healthy, other-focused desires in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone takes place far below Hogwarts when Harry, on Voldemort's orders, once again stands before the Mirror of Erised. Harry has just been thinking, “What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment...is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it – which means I'll see where it's hidden!” (362). 

Harry does not want to use the Stone either to make gold or extend his life. He does not want to give the Stone to anyone else for reward or fame or power. He merely wants to find the Stone to protect the whole wizarding world from a reinvigorated Voldemort. There could hardly be a more unselfish, healthy desire than that, and because Harry is thinking far more about others than about himself, when he looks into the Mirror, his desire is fulfilled. The Stone lands in his pocket (363). 

Throughout Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling reflects on the nature and value of human desire. By presenting the desires of various characters, Rowling shows that unhealthy desires are those that turn a person inward and hinder or even break relationships while healthy desires focus outward and strengthen bonds between people. It may be difficult at first to determine whether a given desire is healthy or unhealthy, but its true character is ultimately revealed by how much the desire in question considers the well-being of other people. Perhaps, in the end, Rowling is inviting her readers to examine the deepest desires of their own hearts and to consider what they would see if they peered into the Mirror of Erised.

Better Out than In: Healthy and Unhealthy Desires in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part 3

While unhealthy desires tend to turn a person inward and strain or even break relationships with others, healthy desires, Rowling suggests, do the opposite: they draw a person out of himself and focus his attention on other people. Harry and Ron face conflicting desires on Halloween night when they realize that Hermione is locked in the bathroom with a twelve-foot mountain troll. On the one hand, they want nothing more than to run the other direction as fast as they possibly can (217). On the other, they realize that Hermione is in grave danger and that they have a responsibility to try to save her if they can. Their healthy desire to help Hermione turns out to be stronger than their fear, and they end up knocking out the troll, much to the surprise of their teachers and, even more, of themselves (219).

Sometimes a character's healthy desires are much more difficult to distinguish. Snape is a prime example. Until the very end of the story, Harry, Ron, and Hermione believe that Snape is the one trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and they are positive that the professor is out to kill Harry. They attribute all the worst desires to Snape, but in the end, they are dead wrong. Snape, for all his sarcasm and nastiness, actually desires to prevent the Stone from falling into the wrong hands and to save Harry's life (359). In spite of appearances to the contrary, Snape's desires are focused almost entirely on other people rather than on himself. Readers do not learn the reason for Snape's commitment to protecting Harry until much later in the series, but they do, at least, begin to discover that there is much more to Snape and his deepest longings than meets the eye. 

Neville is also a much more complex character than he first appears, and his desires, too, often prove to be other-centered and therefore healthy. Although Neville struggles as the victim of bullying, he truly cares about and desires the well-being of his friends and of Gryffindor, and he is not afraid to speak up when he thinks something is amiss. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione are getting ready to leave the Gryffindor common room to try to prevent Voldemort from absconding with the Stone, Neville steps up and insists that they stop right where they are (339). “You can't go out,” he proclaims, “you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble....I don't think you should be breaking any more rules!” 

It would have been much easier for Neville to stand back and stay quiet, but instead he is determined to protect his friends and his house even if that means being misunderstood and, in this case, frozen in a full Body-Bind (340). Of course, Neville is, in the end, well rewarded for his courage in carrying out his healthy desires: his ten points push Gryffindor over the top for the House Cup, and he is finally lauded as the hero he turns out to be (381).

Better Out than In: Healthy and Unhealthy Desires in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part 2

An unhealthy desire of Rubeus Hagrid might have had significantly more dramatic consequences. Hagrid, as he tells Harry, has always wanted a dragon (81). He gets the chance when he wins a dragon egg in a game of cards and hatches a Norwegian Ridgeback he names Norbert (289, 293). In the midst of his intense longing to be “mommy” to Norbert, Hagrid disregards his own safety and that of his friends (292). Although Hermione pointedly reminds the gamekeeper that he lives in a wooden house, Hagrid ignores the danger (290). 

When Norbert bites Ron with his poisonous little fangs, Hagrid tells Ron off for frightening the baby dragon (294). Hagrid, distraught over having to say goodbye to his “baby,” even allows Harry and Hermione to take the extreme risk of carrying Norbert to the top of the astronomy tower to smuggle the illegal dragon out of the country with Charlie Weasley's friends (298). Clearly Hagrid's dragon desire has clouded his judgment, turned his attention solidly onto himself, and nearly spelled disaster for the people closest to him.

Finally, the desires of Professor Quirinus Quirrell may be the most unhealthy of all. For most of the story, Quirrell appears to be working on the side of goodness, protecting the mysterious hidden object, resisting the threats of Snape. At the end, however, Quirrell shows his true colors and his true allegiance. “There is no good and evil,” he tells Harry, “there is only power, and those too weak to seek it” (361). 

Quirrell desires power, the kind of power he thinks he will obtain by serving Voldemort. Quirrell thinks of himself alone as he looks in the Mirror; he sees himself giving the Stone to Voldemort and thereby gaining the power he so desires (360). He cares about nothing but what he wants, and he is only too willing to kill Harry in the process. In the end, though, his desire proves more than merely unhealthy; it proves deadly as Voldemort abandons his unsuccessful servant and Quirrell's thirst for power melts in his burning body (367).

Better Out than In: Healthy and Unhealthy Desires in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Part 1

Albus Dumbledore sits on the floor with Harry Potter before the Mirror of Erised and, as usual, teaches an important lesson. The Mirror, he explains, “shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts....However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth....It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live...” (265). Dumbledore knows that desire is part of the human experience. Every human heart is always longing for something that looms just out of reach like an elusive Golden Snitch. 

In Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling explores the nature and value of human desire. As her characters confront their deepest desires, Rowling invites readers to perceive that unhealthy desires turn a person inward and have negative effects on relationships while healthy desires turn a person outward and stimulate connections with others although the difference between the two may not be initially apparent.

The theme of desire emerges in the very first chapters of the book with the Dursley family. The Dursleys have all sorts of unhealthy desires that focus their attention on themselves and hinder their relationships with others. Vernon concentrates on success and power in his job and spends a lot of time yelling at his coworkers to emphasis his superiority (4). Petunia is a first rate snoop who wants to know everyone else's business but only in order to pass on juicy bits of gossip rather than to help anyone (1, 7). Dudley, even from his babyhood days, wants exactly what he wants exactly when he wants it. Spoiled by his parents, Dudley grows up learning that his desires are law, and he is quick to throw selfish tantrums when he does not get his way (16, 28). 

The Dursleys have one desire that is greater than all the others: they want nothing to do with magic (2). This desire keeps them far away from Pentunia's sister, Lily Potter, and her family until the day one-year-old Harry literally shows up on the Dursleys' doorstep. From that point on, the Dursleys try their best to stamp the magic right out of Harry (45). They seem to feel if they oppress him enough, he will somehow grow up “normal.” Of course, their desire backfires and leads to more conflict with the wizarding world than they could ever have imagined, even if they approved of imagination. 

Another example of unhealthy desire appears in the Mirror of Erised. When Harry discovers the mirror, he encounters his deepest desire: to know his family (259). At first, this desire seems normal and even healthy. The orphaned Harry would naturally want to see his family often and learn more about them. Harry, however, soon becomes obsessed with the Mirror and its images. At breakfast the day after he first looks into the Mirror, Harry cannot eat. He stops caring about discovering Nicholas Flamel or figuring out what the three-headed dog is guarding. “What did it matter if Snape stole it really?” he wonders (260). 

Harry turns even more inward after his second visit to the Mirror. He does not care to play chess with Ron or visit Hagrid. He gets irritated with Ron when the latter expresses his concern about the Mirror and tells Harry not to go out again at night (263). All Harry can think about is his desire to see his family again. If he had not met Dumbledore on his third visit to the Mirror, Harry might have become one of the people who “have wasted away” in front of the Mirror, “entranced by” the vision of their desires but dismissing the real world and real people in the process (265).

Tolkien and Sigurd “The World's Chosen,” Part 3

At this point, readers may be wondering what has happened to all the gold Sigurd won from Fafnir, especially Andvari's cursed ring. Again, the original sources do not clearly account for the ring's continued presence or influence, but Tolkien fills in gaps and answers questions in his Lay. The ring is still very much in Sigurd's possession, and for some unknown reason, when he woos Brynhild in Gunnar's form, he slips it onto her finger as she sleeps, thereby, perhaps, passing on its curse to the woman he has forgotten that he loves (152). 

The ring, however, comes back to haunt him not long after. Gudrún, seeing it on Brynhild's hand and recognizing it for what it is, taunts Brynhild that Gunnar could not have been the man who put it there. “[D]did Gunnar get it on Gnitaheiði?” she asks (156). There could only be one right answer. No, only the World's chosen, only Sigurd could have had that ring in his possession. Brynhild suddenly knows the horrible truth, and the doom of the World's chosen is set on its final path to Valhöll and the hope of the world.

Tolkien, then, embraced the story of Sigurd, made it his own, ordered it according to his vision, and, by incorporating the theme of Sigurd as the World's chosen, answered many of the questions the original sources left in readers' minds. In doing all of this, Tolkien also added a deeper, richer meaning to the story of Sigurd that the original tales lack. Tolkien suggests that fate is not all powerful and all encompassing. Human beings can make a difference, can influence their own futures and even change the destiny of history. 

In Old Norse mythology, Ragnarök was to bring devastation to the whole world, but in Tolkien's account, there was a way out, an alternative. If one descendent of Ódin heroically slayed a dragon and arrived in Valhöll with honor, then “not all shall end, nor Earth perish” (180). Because of the actions of this one warrior, the monsters will suffer defeat and the rebuilt world will enjoy blissful peace. Tolkien believed in the power and value of the human person, and he incorporates that belief into his retelling of Sigurd's story, thereby infusing the past with meaning, the present with hope, and the future with promise. 

Works Cited 

Bellows, Henry Adams, translator. The Poetic Edda: The Heroic Poems. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, Inc., 2015. 

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Legend of Sigurd & Gudrún. Ed. Christopher Tolkien. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2009.