Days Fourteen and Fifteen: On to Weathertop

The weekend birthday celebration – stretched out over three days, and including a lovely visit from out of town friends – means I got a bit behind in my reading re-caps. We have continued to move forward in the reading each night though, welcoming the chance to fall into Tolkien’s exquisitely crafted world in the midst of our own summer busy-ness. This week should be quieter, and we should actually finish book one of Fellowship and move into book two. For the past couple of days, however, we’ve been lingering in the lengthy penultimate chapter eleven “A Knife in the Dark.”

S. was once again bit worried about the ominous chapter title, and well she might be. There are actually two “knives in the dark” in this chapter. In the first few pages, we see that Strider was right to keep the Hobbits in the little parlour/sitting room at the inn, instead of sending them to their beds. While he stays up and keeps watch (one gets the impression that Strider sleeps very lightly whenever he does sleep, which doesn’t seem to be often) some of the Black Riders make their way into the room where the Hobbits should have been sleeping. They slash up the mattresses and pillows, presumably enraged to not find them there. (One also gets the impression that, for all their evil menace, the Black Riders are thankfully a bit slow on the uptake…or perhaps just have a hard time maneuvering in the full dimensions of the living. Thank goodness.)

So the Hobbits and Strider escape, but not too quickly or quietly, which was their original hope. Their ponies have been let loose and they have to find another one to carry the baggage so they can set out on foot. They leave town with this poor, thin creature in tow, chased by curses and vitriol from the mean Bill Ferny, and with almost everyone in Bree watching and wondering over the strange events of the past day. But at least they have Strider by their side. By the time they get to Weathertop, days later, they’re thinner, hungry, tired, and ever more worried that they’ve missed Gandalf…who nevertheless seems to have been in the vicinity recently and tried to leave them a message. I don’t think S. picked up on the portent of the flashing lights they see from a distance before they get to Weathertop, though Strider does observe that it looks as though Gandalf must have been attacked there three days previously.

While they travel on, we get a surprising glimpse of Sam’s love of poetry and a further glimpse at his love of Elven-lore…both things that seem to be due to his friendship with Bilbo when he was a young lad. I love the thought of Bilbo planting seeds of adventure and history and poetry in Sam while the Gaffer planted vegetable and flower seeds outside in the garden at Bag End. The Hobbits are beginning to realize there is much more to Strider than meets the eye, and ask him to tell them some old legends or tales. He gives them the sad story of Tinuviel, an important bit of history and lovely piece of poetry, not to mention a welcome respite before the final storm of the chapter.

The second knife in the dark comes right at the end of the chapter, when they find themselves surrounded by five Black Riders (the most we’ve seen all together so far) in the dell at Weathertop. Frodo fights temptation as hard as he can, but still succumbs to putting on the Ring. We had an interesting talk about that after we finished reading, about how the Ring seems to have a mind of its own and to feel the pull of its evil master. S. seemed intrigued and worried that Frodo can see into the world of the Riders when he has the Ring on – that he can actually see what’s under their cloaks. The chapter ends with Frodo stabbed with what feels like “a dart of poisoned ice” and managing to take the ring off as he’s falling into unconsciousness. As he loses consciousness, he sees their staunch defender Strider run forward with fire.

Day Thirteen: Strider

At last we got to one of my favorite chapters in Fellowship: where the Hobbits meet Strider. He’s one of those amazing characters that starts in shadow (literally) and emerges, bit by bit, into the full light. I love how we get to know him so slowly, along with the Hobbits, and trust him more and more the further along the journey we go. I wrote an essay once, published in a small literary magazine, about unlikely literary heroes – and I featured Strider front and center.

“All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost.” It’s one of my favorite lines of Tolkien’s poetry, and it speaks volumes about Strider’s character. He doesn’t have a very glamorous exterior, but he’s pure gold inside, and he may seem to “wander” (hence the reputation of the “Rangers”) but he wanders to real purpose. Among other things we learn about him early on is the fact that he has sometimes stood guard over the Shire in Gandalf’s absence.

Ah, Gandalf! Trusting that letter to Butterbur! The old inn keeper at the Prancing Pony means well, but he’s easily distracted, and in this case his distraction and forgetfulness almost proves fatal to Frodo and friends. Having the letter from Gandalf, even though it’s too late for its original purpose (to get Frodo to leave the Shire in summer, not fall) does at least cement Frodo’s hesitant urge to trust Strider. Sam remains dubious, but he and Strider will come to love and trust each other as time passes.

Days Eleven and Twelve: Barrow-Wights and Bree-Folk

Yesterday ended up so busy that I didn't manage my daily post for Day Eleven, so I thought I'd catch up two days in one today.

First of all, mea culpa for my comment in Day Ten that no one ever put Tom Bombadil or Beorn in a movie. As far as I know, that's still true of Tom Bombadil, but having just watched the beginning of Peter Jackson's Hobbit (part 2), I realize that Beorn did make it to the screen. He's not quite like I imagined, but then everything in Jackson's Hobbit always looks and feels more savage than anything I imagine. But he is there!

Day Eleven found us with Frodo and company on the Barrow-Downs. This is a strange, other-wordly place where it's easy to get lost, and easy to get ensnared in what feels like a hidden dimension.  The hobbits don't mean to go there, but they find themselves somehow pulled there, and in the end it's once again Frodo's willingness to ask for help (with the rhyme Tom gave them) that saves the day. It's hard not to see providence at work even in some of these most difficult and sticky situations the hobbits get into. While it's not good that they're trapped in the barrows, it turns out to be a good thing that they're given weapons. When Tom sets them on the path again, and rides with them to the borders of his country, he also gives them advice about where to go next, which is how they end up at the Prancing Pony in Bree.

There's something about this inn the crossroads that always puts me in mind a bit of the cantina in Mos Eisley -- or rather the cantina puts me in mind of the inn, since it got invented many years later. Perhaps adventure/quest stories need this kind of place, a place where information can be learned or given, a place where our heroes begin to see just how big a world they're traveling in. (Sam is amazed by houses that are three stories tall!) We readers get to see a mix of Middle-Earth folks, Big and Little, at the Prancing Pony. Some of them seem ominous, others harmless, most somewhere in between, but it's all a rich conglomeration of culture. Incidentally, this is one of the few places where I think that Bakshi's creative but highly uneven Lord of the Rings is very effective...his mix of rotoscoped live action and animation in the Prancing Pony scene gives us an interesting sense of very different worlds coming together in a cross-cultural mix.

Frodo tries to do a good job remembering that he's Mr. Underhill, not Mr. Baggins, but hobbits don't wear deception or disguise very well. Give them good beer and some homelike food, and they're into telling stories with the Outsiders before you know it. Pippin almost gives away the show with his story of Bilbo's birthday disappearance, and Frodo steps in to intervene at the last moment, at the urging of a dark and scraggly looking stranger, a Ranger named Strider who is lurking in a shadowy corner of the room, his long legs in their tall leather boots stretched before him. Alas, somehow the Ring finds its way onto Frodo's finger (it does seem to have a mind of its own!) right in the midst of his second performance of a delightfully funny song inspired by the nursery rhyme "Hey Diddle Diddle." His abrupt disappearance, which he tries unsuccessfully to cover up, scandalizes the decent folks and quickens the interest of the sinister ones.

Day Ten: With Tom and Goldberry

Tom Bombadil is one of those characters, along with Beorn in The Hobbit, who never seems to make film adaptations. Maybe there is something about these mysterious, larger-than-life, almost mythological characters that defies visual capture, or maybe filmmakers are afraid of unplugging the stories from the immediate plot engine that keeps them running. What a mysterious character like Bombadil does is remind us that Middle-Earth has a history – a long, long history that pre-dates not just Frodo and all the other characters in the foreground, but even the old Ring itself and the power that crafted it. And that helps us keep things in perspective.

“Who is Tom Bombadil?” my daughter asked last night, as we settled in for Chapter Seven “At the House of Tom Bombadil.” A good question. Less that two pages later, Frodo asks Goldberry the same thing.

Ah, Goldberry. Such grace and loveliness, a kind of river nymph who puts you in mind of many mythological women and almost feels like an earthier, more practical Galadriel…but I’m getting ahead of myself. S. was so excited when we met Goldberry. “A girl character!” she cried. “We don’t get many of those in these books!” I try to read Goldberry with a slightly high-pitched lilt, while I tend to rumble Tom’s voice a bit, while letting his phrases fall into their natural sing-song kind of cadence. Reading Tom aloud, you realize how much of his speech is poetry.

I’m feeling so thankful for this whole tapestry of characters we’ve seen in the first chapters, characters on the side of good and right who have helped Frodo and promised further help. He sorely needs their help, and he needs the awareness of all this goodness before he moves further into danger and peril. Gandalf (still mysteriously missing) is one great ally, but there are so many more. Farmer Maggot, Gildor, Tom, and Goldberry are all part of this team. I love realizing, from the hints Tolkien gives us, that there are lines of connection between some of these people.

One of my favorite bits of writing comes when Tolkien describes the dream world of the four hobbits as they sleep at Tom’s house. He provides a lengthy paragraph to describe each hobbit’s dream, giving us insights into the inner concerns and fears of Frodo, Pippin, and Merry. Then he gets to Sam and writes: “As far as he could remember, Sam slept through the night in deep content, if logs are contented.”  It’s a moment that makes you smile or even laugh, delivered with great timing. But in its own way, it also provides insight into the soul of Sam – and makes me oh so glad he is with Frodo too.

The most intriguing bit of the entire chapter might be when Tom, having heard Frodo’s story (and Tolkien tells us that Frodo finds himself more forthcoming with Tom than he has been with anyone so far, even Gandalf) asks to see the Ring. Frodo is able to hand it over without a moment of hesitation. He is astonished, and so are we, to discover that the Ring seems to have no effect on Tom. He not only doesn’t seem to desire it or its power, he plays with it like it’s a toy. And it does not make him vanish. Indeed, he makes it vanish – leading one to wonder why he can’t just keep it or get rid of it, and thus let Frodo out of the arduous task

One senses, more than ever, that this is a task intended for Frodo and company, however, and that Tom, with his long, long memory and keen sense of the world, understands that too. Frodo shows some petulance here, actually bothered that Tom’s nonchalance in the face of such an important object somehow shows disrespect or makes light of the peril. Even Gandalf took it seriously! I feel like patting Frodo on the head here, and assuring him that Tom takes it seriously too…but he’s also able to take it more lightly because he seems to have such a long perspective. (This morning, I find myself thinking of the old expression: “angels can fly because they take themselves so lightly.”) Even the seeming worst that evil can do doesn’t faze Tom. That too heartens our spirits at this point in the narrative, much as the cool, fresh water they drink at Tom’s house heartens the spirits of the hobbits. Frodo may not realize it, but in these early days, he’s storing up “life and food for future years” (to quote Wordsworth). He’s going to need it.

Day Nine: Pushing Through the Forest

I made the mistake of deciding to read all of Chapter Six, “The Old Forest,” based on a hasty look at the page count. I need to remember that with Tolkien, it’s not always the number of pages but how those pages are written that determine how easily one moves forward!

It’s actually yet another sign of writing artistry when I say that our tired little family had a challenging time making our way through the chapter last night, because Tolkien’s densely packed prose seems to mimic the action. We push through bushels of words: detailed, lengthy descriptions packed tightly around only small bits of dialogue, while the four hobbits whose fortunes we follow are trying to make their way through a dense, quiet forest that doesn’t want them to pass through it. They literally get pushed in a direction they don’t want to take, and end up falling under the spell of an Old Willow tree by the Withywindle River (S. loved that name…and so do I!). As they got sleepier and sleepier, I couldn’t help thinking of the poppy field in The Wizard of Oz, and I couldn’t help noticing that my two listening dear ones were also getting sleepier. Of course, as difficult as their journey through the forest is, "it's nothing compared to Mirkwood!" as S. pointed out knowledgeably. 

The end of the chapter does provide a wake-up call. Just when it looks as though Pippin may be lost forever, and Merry is being dragged underground by the Old Willow’s sentient roots (these will not be the last very living trees we’ll encounter!) Frodo does a wonderfully wise thing. He runs down the path shouting “Help! Help!” as loudly as he can. It seems a little silly at first, until we realize that someone’s listening. In yet another moment that hardly feels like a chance encounter, Tom Bombadil, that intriguing-singing-rhyming-strong-man of the forest, shows up and rescues both Merry and Pippin.

Frodo is generally such a mild and quiet character that I almost overlook him, even though he is the protagonist of much of this epic. Other people jump off the page as greater and more obvious heroes. When I think of Frodo, I tend to think of patience and long-suffering, qualities he shows deeply as the narrative progresses. But this time through Fellowship, I am finding myself drawn to elements of his personality that I’m not sure I’ve consciously pondered before. I love his willingness to ask for and accept help. I love it that he looks for help outside of himself even when it looks as though there’s no help to be found. And lo and behold! It turns out that there is help of a very real kind.

Day Eight: The Power of Friendship

Thank heavens for friends. 

Chapter Five is titled “A Conspiracy Unmasked.” S. wasn’t sure what the word “conspiracy” meant, so her dad explained it was when people plotted and made plans together. “Like when you whisper to me, ‘let’s go tickle Mom!’” That made me laugh.

Despite the benign description, S. was afraid the title had ominous overtones, and given the way the danger has been ramping up, I could see why. She was happy to discover that the conspiracy was a good one, made up of Merry, Pippin, and Sam, Frodo’s dear friends. It turns out that they’ve been eavesdropping and watching after Frodo carefully for some time, trying to put a few things together. Merry has been piecing information together, in fact, for years, ever since he happened to see Bilbo use the ring to disappear (trying to avoid the Sackville-Bagginses. Heh.)

With this device, Tolkien adroitly avoids the need for Frodo to retell the story of the ring and mostly avoids even have to say “Frodo told them everything.” It moves the story along more smoothly but it also provides this wonderful chapter in which he celebrates friendship, one of the deepest running undercurrents of all the books. Frodo is blessed beyond measure to find that his friends have cared enough to notice what’s going on in his world (up until now, I think it felt like a very private dilemma) and even more blessed to realize they mean what they say about coming with him as he flies “from deadly peril into deadly peril.” Thankfully, Frodo is quick and grateful to accept their help. Another reason to like him.

The final part of the chapter recounts their decision to leave at daybreak and head for the Old Forest, a landscape that Fatty Bolger (the fourth friend, and the one being left behind to impersonate Frodo and pass a message on to Gandalf if he comes) is only too glad to not have to face.

Day Seven: Beer and Mushrooms...and a Deep Breath Before We Plunge

We read all of Chapter Four last night: “A Short Cut to Mushrooms.”  It’s been several years since my last read through of LOTR, and I’d forgotten just how long Tolkien has us linger in the Shire. Knowing what’s coming, I’m grateful that we get this grounding. The early hike from Hobbiton to Buckland, with as-yet-barely-understood evil Riders in pursuit (and danger feeling real but somehow nebulous) feels like a warm-up for the long journey to come.

This whole chapter feels like a deep breath before we take the plunge into deeper waters. There’s a sighting of a Rider on the ridge above the Hobbits as they strike out into the bushes and brambles of their short cut to the Ferry (they’re trying to avoid the main road) and there’s an unearthly shrieking sound, like an angry, other-worldly bird call, that frightens them momentarily. Frodo, with his penchant for understanding other languages, seems to sense this sound is communication, that it has words in it that he doesn’t understand.

But most of what they come across is thankfully ordinary. When they realize they’re trespassing on Farmer Maggot’s land, Frodo is anxious because he remembers the Farmer’s ferocious dogs and the beating the Farmer gave him in his youth when he used to trespass to snitch mushrooms. They run into the Farmer and his dogs again, but it turns out that the remembered terrors of mischievous youth are nothing in comparison to the real dangers pursuing them.

The Farmer turns out to be another friend to the trio (still just Sam, Frodo, and Pippin thus far, though they will be joined by Merry by chapter’s end). Like Gildor, the Farmer provides sustenance for them – though of an earthier kind. They eat sausages and mushrooms and drink home-brewed beer, a nice contrast to the golden, honey-tasting liquid given to them by the Elves. And like Gildor, Farmer Maggot understands that something bad is stirring, but doesn’t press Frodo for more details than Frodo is willing to give him. One of the Black Riders has been trespassing on his land, asking for “Baggins.” I’m moved by how both Farmer Maggot and stalwart Sam are ready to take on the Riders in defense of Frodo, little knowing what kind of evil they’re actually facing.  There’s something even a little comical in the notion that Farmer Maggot is ready to turn his dogs on these shadowy riders. We need those bits of comedy, and the homespun kindness of the Farmer and his wife sending Frodo off with more mushrooms, showing his youthful transgressions are long ago forgiven and forgotten.

Sam is the surprise of this chapter. His first brush with Elves has left him thoughtful and more tender than usual, but though one big desire of his heart has now been satisfied, he’s not ready to head home. In fact, he tells Frodo that he’s going with him no matter what, even though he knows there’s a long road and much danger ahead. There’s a touch of the prophet in prosaic Sam. He sounds positively prescient here, as though he’s been given a glimpse, albeit a far-off glimpse, of just how hard it’s going to be. And given a sense that he has something important to do in all this. His intuition and valor surprise Frodo and surprise us too. It won’t be the last time Sam surprises us.

Day Six: Sam Meets Elves

S. had a movie night a friend’s house last evening, so we decided to read right after dinner before we needed to leave. We knew it would be midnight before we got home.

We had been listening to music during dinner, and I turned it off when I brought the book the table. When S. looked at me questioningly, I said, “I can’t read aloud and listen at the same time. Two different kinds of music.”

“Is reading music?” she asked, sounding intrigued.

“Reading Tolkien is music,” I assured her, a sentiment which I wholeheartedly believe. The assertion was beautifully borne out by the fact that the last half of chapter three contained two songs.

I love that in Tolkien, almost everybody sings, most especially hobbits and elves. They’re both singing, storytelling peoples, prone to break into song in the course of the everyday as well as to set aside times specifically for singing and telling stories.

In this chapter, Sam, Pippin and Frodo are walking along, still headed for Buckland, still worried about the Black Riders who seem to be following them. When nothing happens and they begin to grow more peaceful, they begin to hum a walking song, one that Bilbo had written (setting words “to a tune that was as old as the hills") and taught to Frodo. It’s one of those deliciously sweet hobbit songs, all about home and hearth and bread and bed.

The shadow catches up to them again, but they’re once more saved from discovery (so many close calls in these early pages!) this time by Elves. And not just any elves. These are High-Elves, a fact which causes great wonderment to Frodo, who realizes who they are when he hears them sing a hymn to Elbereth. Frodo seems to have an intuitive way of understanding Elven speech and song, even though he’s only studied it a little bit with Bilbo.

The Elbereth song – “O Queen beyond the Western Seas!” has a deeply ethereal, spiritual quality. It reminded me, flittingly, of Tolkien’s Catholicism. I could understand how the song captured Sam’s heart. Sam is in awe – feeling both fear and wonder – the whole time they spend with the Elves, talking, feasting, and resting.

This is the first, but by no means last time, that Frodo finds help on the journey. He speaks with Gildor Inglorian (could there be a better name to evoke gold, light, glory?) and though he doesn’t tell him all he could, Gildor knows or senses enough to give Frodo some good advice. Gildor speculates that in their meeting “there may be more than chance” (Providence at work again!) but he admits he cannot clearly see the whole purpose of their meeting.

Still, he offers Frodo counsel. Essentially he tells him to flee the Black Riders without speaking to them and to press on, even without Gandalf. He also encourages him to take whatever friends he can trust along with him. He assures Frodo that he will spread the word to other Elves to be on the lookout for Frodo and friends and to offer them assistance as they can. “I name you Elf-Friend; and may the stars shine upon the end of your road!” A beautiful blessing, full of strength.

Day Five: Frodo Takes to the Road

We were all tired last night and got to reading late, but we pushed on with the first half (or a bit more) of Chapter Three, entitled “Three is Company.”

Frodo sets out at last from the Shire, after a longer delay than you might expect after his conversation with Gandalf. When push comes to shove, it’s hard for Frodo to leave, especially not knowing when he might ever come back. At this point in the narrative, his sense of danger is still so small and his deep connection to home is still so strong. Despite occasional twinges of wanderlust, inspired by all the tales Bilbo told him over the years, desire for adventure is not an innate part of him.

He waits to go until his birthday, having published the news to the neighborhood that he’s selling Bag End (to the Sackville-Bagginses!) and moving to Buckland to be with his relatives there. Sam is going with him, supposedly to do the gardening at Frodo’s new house. The plan is for Frodo to head to Buckland first, then onward to Rivendell.

Frodo, Sam, and Pippin decide to walk to Buckland, a journey of a couple of days – and the fact that they decide to walk, so Frodo can begin to get into shape and also enjoy a last look at the beautiful autumnal Shire, is indication enough that they have very little sense of urgency. This despite the fact that Gandalf promised Frodo he would come back by his birthday at the very latest, and has not shown up.

Gandalf’s absence, which Tolkien manages to highlight a few times, is just one of the ominous notes in the proceedings. A stranger, someone from among the “big people,” as Pippin calls them, has been asking Sam’s father, the Gaffer, about Frodo’s whereabouts. Sam knows about this but they’re so busy getting on the road, he forgets to tell Frodo, yet another way Tolkien underlines the hobbits’ lack of sense of danger at this point. Sam only remembers to tell Frodo after the trio is beset by a very strange personage – a cloaked “black rider” who appears to be sniffing as well as looking for Frodo. At least that’s the sense that Frodo gets while lying hidden in the tall grasses waiting for this mysterious person to pass.

Frodo shows a keen sense of intuition to hide here. Tolkien doesn’t give us a glimpse into his reaction over the behavior of the ring, which seems to pull his hand toward it when the rider is present, but even without that, we realize that Frodo is definitely on his guard and definitely feels something is “off.”

I love the masterful way in which Tolkien shows the hobbits stepping further and further away from all that is comfortable and familiar. He recounts this early part of the journey in amazing geographical detail, showing such familiarity with the world of the Shire that we revel in its realness. Sam’s awed look across land he’s never seen, when they’re still only about twenty miles from home, rings especially poignantly when you already know just how long and far their road is going to take them, and how long it will be before they see their beloved Shire again. Well, that’s the re-reader response. I’m not sure how it played for my daughter, hearing these tales for the first time, but I think she definitely caught the sense that they’re moving into mystery. We spent a little more time poring over Tolkien’s maps when we finished reading.

Day Four: The Shadow Falls on the Shire

Poor Frodo. It was frightening enough to learn that the ring was the One Ring (note the capital letters Tolkien uses) and that it had come into his possession. How much worse is it to find out that the Enemy has wormed information out of Gollum, information that has brought the name of hobbit, Shire, and perhaps even Baggins to the attention of evil?

I love the way Frodo surprises Gandalf in this scene, with his quiet resolve to do the right thing in leaving the Shire with the ring. You can tell that this decision comes less from fear (though understandably there is an element of that) and more from a motivation to protect all those he loves in the Shire, and to fulfill his responsibility as the owner of the ring.

Of course, Frodo has no way yet of knowing just how heavy that ring-bearing responsibility will ultimately be. Near the end of this second chapter, he tries to give it away to Gandalf, an action that horrifies the old wizard because it throws so much temptation in his path. He knows the ring is much safer in Frodo’s hands, partly because Frodo still doesn’t fully understand its power (though he’s beginning to grasp its near indestructibility) and partly because Frodo doesn’t have a desire for power.

I find it fascinating that Gandalf sees a power behind Bilbo’s coming upon the ring – a strong power that is different form the evil power involved in the making of the ring, the power that tries to draw the ring back. The fact that Gandalf sees this as “encouraging” shows he believes it to be a good power, working for good – and working for good through these small and unlikely chosen hobbits. It’s really our first glimpse at providence in the story.

Aragorn gets his first mention here, as the gifted huntsman and tracker who helps Gandalf find Gollum after the wizard loses track of him. And Sam gets a wonderful scene where he’s literally pulled into the room through the window to be glowered at by a bristly Gandalf who ends up laughing over Sam’s eavesdropping (perhaps catching yet another glimpse of providence? though he doesn’t say so) and deciding to send him along with Frodo. One of the wisest decisions he makes in the entire series, though it’s made in a moment of merriment. Perhaps that should tell us something about merry moments.

Oh, and I think I found my Sam voice last night. A little rushed, a little country bumpkin, excited and enthused. “Me, sir!...Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!”

Day Three: The Ring Revealed

Last night we began chapter two, “The Shadow of the Past.” There’s a temptation, even in these longer chapters, to just gallop right through to the end, but we’ve been trying to have S. get to bed a bit earlier. We ended up looking at Tolkien’s maps for a while even after we stopped reading though. S. is amazed by the way Tolkien built his secondary world. She loves the careful way he compiles details. (He won her heart completely by showing a real understanding of moon phases in The Hobbit.)

Tolkien is good at whatever he does, be it writing dramatic action or describing scenery,  but I think I may like him best when he has one of his characters recounting history, as Gandalf does in this chapter.

A lot of years pass between the end of chapter one and the moment in chapter two when Gandalf and Frodo sit by the fire in Bag End and Gandalf reveals what he has learned about the ring. I forgot how much time passes there! Frodo is thirty-three in chapter one, and nearing fifty (a momentous age, for that is when Bilbo first went adventuring, now about eighty years ago) when Gandalf comes to warn him that the ring in his possession is not just a ring of power, but the ring of power.

S. was suitably surprised and thrilled (and worried) to learn this piece of news. It’s such a dramatic unveiling, with Gandalf throwing the ring in the fire so that it reveals its burning runic secrets, and then proclaiming, in translation, the towering line “One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to rule them all and in the darkness bind them.”

I love that Gandalf won’t even speak the words in the language of Mordor, as though the very utterance of that language would cast an appalling shadow on the brightness and innocence of the Shire. Part of what makes Gandalf so lovable and trustworthy is this desire in him to protect these little people, seemingly so unimportant, on the fringes of a wider world they know so little about.

We’re only partway through the history of the Ring itself, and how it came to be in Frodo’s possession, but S. has enjoyed many echoes already – from the Hobbit (and Bilbo’s exchange with Gollum) and also from the Harry Potter stories, which she recently heard read for the first time. Like her parents, she delights in talking about literary influences, and she picked up on the fact that Tolkien’s fingerprints are all over Rowling’s work. The details that Gandalf reveals about Sauron, and how he lived in Mirkwood as a shadow of evil but has now come out in the open again and is rebuilding his strength, put her in mind of Voldemort. And she’s already made connections between the ring’s corrosive power and horcruxes.

I seem to have settled into my Gandalf voice, and I’m tending to read Frodo a little lighter and higher than Bilbo’s voice, but I’ve not yet figured out how to read Sam. He’s made only brief appearances so far. 

Day Two: The Road Goes Ever On and On

When you get to share a book you already love with someone who has never journeyed through it, you  enjoy it on a whole new level. You read not only with your own previous experience of the book thrumming along underneath, but with the added enjoyment of hearing someone else exclaim, wonder, worry, and put things together as they go. Not to mention you get the benefits of their new insights!

That was how I felt last night when we opened Fellowship back up to finish chapter one. I offered a brief one or two line recap of the first half, then prepared to settle in with the words “the second half of chapter one, 'A Long-Expected Party.'

“Hey,” piped up my daughter. “It was the Unexpected Party in The Hobbit.”

Momentarily distracted, I paused to ponder her words. She was right – The Hobbit starts with an unexpected, unplanned party of dwarves, arriving at Bag End with Gandalf to surprise Bilbo. Fellowship also begins at Bag End, sixty years later, with Bilbo throwing a party for the neighborhood, a party he has long planned as his own surprise send-off. Somehow I had never made the connection.

After exchanging delighted looks with my husband (who hadn’t made the connection either) and commending my daughter on the observation, we dove into the story once more.

Bilbo has slipped off from the party, following his exciting and unexplained exit. We find him next at Bag End, gathering up his things in prelude for what looks to be a long journey. Gandalf joins him there and they have an important conversation. We learn several things in the course of this conversation, most of them centered on the remarkable ring that Bilbo brought back from his wanderings decades ago.

Bilbo is none too pleased that Gandalf spoiled his joke, or so he thinks, by making a flash appear when he suddenly disappeared. Gandalf, of course, has his reasons – he wants the hobbits to think that he helped Bilbo with a bit of magic because he doesn’t want anyone, in the Shire or its environs, to begin to focus too much attention on Bilbo’s ring and its odd magical properties. Gandalf seems very serious about this – warning Bilbo to keep the ring safe and secret.

Bilbo leaves the ring behind for Frodo as a parting gift. It’s the nature of hobbits to give gifts on their own birthdays (most of them mathom, Tolkien’s hobbit-word for things that get re-gifted among hobbits) but this turns out to be a rather big gift, and one that Bilbo has a harder time letting go of than he expected. Somehow that ring doesn’t want to leave his pocket! Bilbo gets positively possessive of it in a very un-Bilbo like way. He calls it “my precious,” words we have hitherto heard before from the lips of the ring’s previous possessor, Gollum.

“He doesn’t sound like Bilbo,” S. interjected more than once. She’s curious to know why he got so angry and greedy about the ring, which is exactly what she should be curious about at this point in the narrative. All the reader knows at this point is that Gandalf is beginning to wonder good and hard about that ring, and that Bilbo has had the ring in his possession for too long a time. No wonder he is feeling “stretched…like butter that has been scraped over too much bread.”

Bilbo’s parting from the Shire is lovely and sweet, tinged with nostalgia and also a hint of adventure. I love that he girds himself in his former adventurous traveling clothes and that he sings “The road goes ever on and on…” as he leaves.

Our time with Frodo is relatively short at chapter’s end. He comes across as mild-mannered, a little melancholy over the loss of his dear cousin Bilbo’s company. He’s inherited Bag End, much to the Sackville-Bagginses’ disgust, but while he’s grateful, he’d still rather just have Bilbo back (Frodo always seems to care more for people than things). He’s surprised that Bilbo left him his ring, and seems gently bewildered by Gandalf’s repeated warning “keep it secret, and keep it safe!” I tried to read this in my best grave and gravely wizard tone.

Day One: The Reading Begins!

Our family started our read-aloud of The Lord of the Rings last night! It felt like quite a momentous way to end the day and to begin the summer.

So many reasons I'm delighted we're reading LOTR together this summer. Our daughter (almost twelve) is so ready for these books, having recently finished reading The Hobbit -- her first time reading it on her own, though we've also read it as a family. We've read so much other English and American fantasy literature that I thought would be a wonderful preparation for LOTR. And we're in a kind of transition space as a family this summer. Put it all together, and it just makes sense that this should be our Tolkien summer.

My goal is to try to blog at least a little each day on our progress through the books. I don't know if I will really manage a post each day, but I will try at least to post regularly.

Day One was exciting...we began with the "one ring" poem and then read the first half of the first chapter. I'm thankful that Tolkien's beautiful storytelling rhythm lends itself to easy breaks, since the chapters are generally too long to swallow in one gulp of late-night reading.

Bilbo turned eleventy-one, Frodo turned thirty-three, Gandalf set off his spectacular fireworks, making all the little hobbits very happy. (I’d forgotten “G is for grand!” and how that made Gandalf smile.) It’s a festive beginning. S. liked “eleventy-one” and I giggled over the “ProudFEET!” line. From a read-aloud standpoint, I most loved tripping through the long litany of Bilbo’s relatives’ surnames, which get repeated. 

We stopped after Bilbo disappeared and Frodo slipped away from the festivities. S. is curious about where Bilbo went to. She double-checked with me that Frodo is the main character in these stories. Stayed tuned for more excitement…