JCF´s MythBlast: The Lord of the Rings: Transforming Elderness — A Journey into the Heart of the Wise One

• Monica Martinez, PhD

• May, 2025

• 5 min read

I’m absolutely delighted to be collaborating once again with MythBlast, an important feature of the Joseph Campbell Foundation’s website. In this first piece, I was invited to reflect on a film that, for me, embodies the archetypal image of the Wise. And here it is: The Lord of the Rings: Transforming Elderness. I’m happy to share the link and strongly encourage you to visit the Foundation’s page and enjoy the rich content available there. However, I’m also archiving it below for future reference. It’s a 5-minute read.

Monica

The Lord of the Rings: Transforming Elderness —

A Journey into the Heart of the Wise One

When invited to explore the Wise archetype, I found myself facing an inner battle: which story to choose? Which trilogy to follow? Star Wars (dear Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi!) or The Lord of the Rings, where Gandalf stands as the very embodiment of the Wise Old Man? Strangely, my heart chose the latter. Strangely, because Star Wars belongs more to my generation, while Tolkien's world speaks most vividly to my daughter’s. Yet this was not a decision of the mind. It was a choice of the heart—and so I invite you to walk with me through this story.

"We are going on an adventure"

Like Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings offers a curious kind of beginning. It does not unfold from the start, for Tolkien had already crafted a larger mythos around it. Instead, the first film, The Fellowship of the Ring, immerses us midstream into a vast world: Frodo Baggins, a humble hobbit—small of stature, large of heart—is entrusted with a perilous quest to carry the One Ring to the fires of Mount Doom. He is joined by loyal Samwise Gamgee and aided by companions from all walks of Middle-earth: Aragorn, heir to Gondor’s throne; Legolas the elf; and Gimli the dwarf.

Above all, there is Gandalf, at first the Grey: the wise wizard who recognizes the deeper stakes of the journey—not merely the fate of a ring, but the survival of the world itself.

In May 2024, a conference took me to Australia, and I found a chance to bring my daughter to New Zealand. There, among the green hills of Waikato, we walked through Hobbiton. I had expected to remain composed. Yet when we stood before the round green door of Bag End, I half-expected Bilbo himself to greet us. Inside the Green Dragon Inn, the warmth was almost tangible, as if the hobbits were just around the corner. And yet, amidst all the wonder, I felt something missing: the quiet presence of the Wise One. In today's world, it seems rarer than ever to encounter true eldership.

Wise Ones wanted

When this MythBlast call came to explore the Wise One, I knew at once where to turn. Still, I chose to revisit the trilogy (The Fellowship of the Ring [2001], The Two Towers [2002], and The Return of the King [2003])—to let it be fresh in my mind and heart.

My daughter, now twenty-eight, delighted in the task, making burnt popcorn that tasted better than any gourmet snack could. I am now fifty-eight, more attuned than ever to the deeper textures of archetypes. And so, over three long Saturdays, we watched Gandalf once again offer himself in sacrifice so that the younger ones might continue their journey.

Yet sacrifice, in its true sense, is not an end. As revealed by the close of the second film (and by now, I trust, this is no spoiler), Gandalf returns, transformed. No longer Gandalf the Grey, he becomes Gandalf the White—cleansed, potent, radiant. The very word "sacrifice" comes from the Latin sacrificium, meaning "to make sacred." In surrendering himself, Gandalf is not diminished. He is reborn.

A psychological transformation

Through this death and resurrection, Gandalf undergoes a psychological and archetypal transformation—a journey echoing through countless mythologies. He emerges not merely older, but wiser: not merely a keeper of memories, but a bearer of the sacred flame.

In The Portable Jung, Joseph Campbell notes that Jung’s archetypes are “the a priori Forms of Mythic Fantasy” (p. xxxi), shaped only as they are filled with conscious experience. Gandalf’s journey is one such form: a living myth, filled out by courage, sacrifice, and renewal.

There is an important distinction here. The Wise One is not the same as the Old One. Age alone does not confer wisdom. Where the Old One clings to what has passed, the Wise One releases, transforms, and renews. As Christian Roesler compellingly argues in Deconstructing Archetype Theory, the process of psychological transformation—not static traits—gives archetypes their power and universality.

Gandalf embodies this dynamic spirit. He stands not as a relic of past glories, but as a living guide, willing to sacrifice and be remade for the sake of those who come after. He reminds us that true eldership is not about possessing knowledge—but about embodying wisdom.

Where the Old One clings to what has passed, the Wise One releases, transforms, and renews.

And perhaps, if we listen closely and are open enough, we too are invited to walk that path.

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MythBlast authored by:

Monica Martinez is a Brazilian writer, researcher, and professor whose work bridges communication, narrative, and Jungian psychology. She holds a Ph.D. from the University of São Paulo (ECA-USP) and a postdoctoral degree from UMESP, exploring how stories shape identity and transformation. A clinical psychologist and Jungian analyst trained by IJEP, she maintains a private practice in São Paulo. Martinez teaches at the University of Sorocaba (Uniso) and coordinates the JORLIT research group on Literary Journalism and Transformative Narratives. In 2024, she completed her second postdoctoral project at Universidade Fernando Pessoa in Portugal, expanding her inquiry across oceans. She has authored several books and articles on literary journalism and psychological storytelling. Mother of Laura, 28, she believes in the enduring magic of narratives to heal, guide, and renew the human spirit.