I’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to read this book several times. I think this was primarily due to the fact that, in some ways at least, Charles 2.5 stars
I’ve tried, unsuccessfully, to read this book several times. I think this was primarily due to the fact that, in some ways at least, Charles Williams may be the most difficult Inkling. That’s saying something given that it includes Owen Barfield whose own thoughts and writings can also stray into what I think can validly be described as the esoteric. Williams is, however, on a whole other level of weird. I’ve read his Arthurian poetry, which is perhaps even more esoteric and difficult to parse, but despite this I came away from them with the impression that they were not only quite excellent, but also powerful new iterations of the Arthurian mythos. Williams’ ‘spiritual thrillers’, of which this is one, never seemed to have the same appeal to me, despite my interest in the esoteric.
I think my ambivalence towards them can be tied to two very distinct features that I found ran through the book. First of all, this book is very…British. I don’t mean this to be as disparaging as it sounds, but I suppose the Anglophilia of my youth has somewhat waned with time and I felt very much on the outside of many of the accepted conventions of the characters in the story and the almost blasé nature in which the various characters (who are not ‘Persian’) treat the strange powers that intrude into their world in this story seems to be almost stereotypically British in attitude. It also seems to me to be very much of its time. The relationships between the sexes, as depicted in the way that Chloe Burnett (in some ways the ‘main character’ of the story, and in others some strange amalgam of pseudo-love interest/maguffin/plot-accelerator) relates to pretty much all of the men (i. e. everyone else) in the story, is also perhaps best encapsulated by that most favoured of post-modern words: problematic (which I really don’t like using if I can help it, though I seem to be using it more and more these days). Given what little I know of Williams’ apparent theories of the theology of co-inherence and the relationship of the sexes from his own life and beliefs, however, I’m not sure if this is really a case of it reflecting the attitudes of the time as much as it does the very idiosyncratic beliefs of Williams himself.
The basics of the plot can be summed up as: A stone from the crown of the fabled King Solomon finds its way into the hands on an unscrupulous British scientist (perhaps the most interesting character in the story who could have perhaps done with a bit more screen time and development) who plans to learn all he can and use its eldritch powers for his own selfish ends. Standing against him are the stalwart Chief Lord Justice of England, Lord Arglay (the scientist’s brother-in-law), and his even more stalwart young secretary, Chloe Burnett. Hijinks ensue. The stone can not only allows the user to travel instantly in time and space and fulfill the desires they voice when holding the stone, but can also be duplicated infinitely (a plot point that leads to perhaps the main tension in the novel, but which ends up being resolved a bit too patly). This ultimately becomes something of a monkey’s paw story: be careful what you wish for, and dabble not in forces you do not understand, with a strong leaning towards the need to sacrifice one’s will for that which is higher on the metaphysical plane.
The metaphysical implications of the use of the stone, especially as regards time travel, led to some rather intriguing ideas about that nature of time and various paradoxes (not the run of the mill ones trotted out most often) that I must admit I didn’t fully grok, but that were still satisfyingly thought-provoking. I also saw the obvious influence that Williams had on Lewis’ ‘That Hideous Strength’ which has many of the same story elements and character types: the strange and esoteric breaking into the mundane world; the paternalistic and wise, though somewhat priggish, hero; the devoted younger female whose ultimate devotion to traditional values proves to be a saving grace; and the selfish pseudo-scientist willing to break the tenets of wisdom in the name of progress and selfish advancement.
Interesting, but at the same time a little off-putting, I still have to admit that it was interesting enough to make me think I may attempt another of these ‘spiritual thrillers’ just to see what kind of mileage Williams got out of them and whether he managed to tread any newer ground with them....more
I know next to nothing about linguistics and have never had an easy way with languages, but I have to say that despite this deficit I have b3.5 stars
I know next to nothing about linguistics and have never had an easy way with languages, but I have to say that despite this deficit I have become more and more fascinated by the question of how language intersects with cognition. I know at least the basics of concepts like the Sapir Whorf hypothesis and while I don’t think I concur with the deterministic relationship between language and thought that that theory posits I do think that our linguistic heritage plays a large part in the way we perceive the world. Of course, language, if it is a living one, is constantly changing so it would appear equally likely that our perceptions and beliefs that result from it might be just as mutable.
All this to say that I guess I am in the camp that believes that human consciousness and perceptions have changed over time and that it is possible that as much has been lost as gained by the ‘progress’ of society. Given this opinion I think language, and a knowledge of its history and change, holds a unique key for understanding older modes of thought. Language is at once both a living and changing expression of human beliefs and ideas and, when you dig a little deeper into meanings and derivations, an artifact of ancient beliefs and perceptions. I think this is why I have not only gravitated towards historical fiction in my reading in recent years, but that I am very picky in the books I choose to read since I look for those that attempt to recreate the modes of thought and manners of previous eras, as opposed to those that merely like to play anachronistic dress-up with more modern sensibilities.
Owen Barfield, perhaps the least know of the Inklings, takes on this subject head-on with his _History in English words_. Sharing ideas with his more famous _Poetic Diction_, in this volume Barfield expostulates on “…the impenetrable fringe of that mysterious no-man’s-land which lies between words and their meanings.”(177) In the first half of the book Barfield traces the Aryan (or Proto-Indo-European) migrations as exemplified in/by linguistic shifts and developments with emphasis on some key words with and obvious concentration on the growth and development of the branches of the English language and nation. I imagine that this is as good a place as any to note that elements of Barfield’s argument here seem sometimes dated. I hate the word “problematic” given its blatant overuse and air of holier-than-thou judginess, but I can’t help but feel compelled to invoke the word at certain elements of the book. At the very least it can be said to be a work of its time, drawing problematic conclusions such as the combination of ‘Teutonic blood’ and Christianity as “the two great streams of humanity”, and (perhaps accurately) seeing feminism as a modern & foreign intrusion into the fundamentally ‘male and logical’ Aryan belief system. I will stress that Barfield does discuss the use (or more accurately mis-use) of the word Aryan by the Nazis and tried to distance the term from their eugenic theories of purity, but his perspective is still not one that I would consider modern, freighted as it is with his obvious nationalism and cultural pride. The second half of the book enunciates the ways in which specific word and language meanings (and changes to them) had an impact on key areas of thought such as “myth”, “philosophy and religion”, “personality and reason”, and “imagination” amongst others.
Barfield sees language as a hallmark of the development and change of human nature and perceptions ultimately resulting in the emergence of the concept of the individual, along with a sense of ‘progressive history’ as seen in the change of usage, and meaning, in specific words and phrases. This is in contrast to earlier modes of thought and perception in which he argues that humans were more in tune with their environment, seeing themselves as part of the greater cosmos, actors on the stage of life instead of the “authors and spectators” of the modern era. Even this idea of “modern” vs “ancient”, Barfield argues, is a ‘modern’ concept, one of the hallmarks of a fundamental shift in perceptions. He sees in human history a movement to internalize motivations and ‘influences’ as being generated by the human mind itself as opposed to by external ones such as gods, Nature, or the stars, or, as Barfield puts it: “It is the shifting of the centre of gravity of consciousness from the cosmos around him into the personal human being himself.”(171)
In essence, Barfield sets out to explicate an ‘objective’ theory of language that I find equal parts compelling and implausible. I think I want to believe in these linguistic ideas more than I actually do…but more thought is needed especially given that I am only a neophyte (if even that) in linguistic and cultural studies. ...more
I have a somewhat ambivalent attitude towards Tolkien’s later writings on middle-earth. On the one hand there are some real gems and tantalizing glimpI have a somewhat ambivalent attitude towards Tolkien’s later writings on middle-earth. On the one hand there are some real gems and tantalizing glimpses of what might have been if only the professor had had more time, or been slightly less of a perfectionist, such as the beginning of a more novelistic tale of Turin as seen in Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-Earth, or the many fascinating essays on a variety of topics, peoples, and characters that helped to flesh out his creation. On the other hand, I tend to be more leery of many of his late revisions to his Silmarillion-related material whose goal seemed to be to correct what was ‘wrong’, at least as far as known science went...a somewhat strange attitude to take towards a work of mythology. I guess I feel that some of these changes tend to undermine things that I don’t personally feel were in need of fixing. One example would be his apparent wish to make Galadriel a much less flawed (and thus in my opinion less interesting) character and instead have her modelled more along the lines of the Virgin Mary in regards to moral perfection. Another was his desire to make the Silmarillion mythos coherent with actual physics (insofar as he was able) and known pre-history: so no more flat earth becoming round, or birth of the sun and moon as fruit and flower of the Trees of Valinor; both exemplify a tragic loss of mythic and poetic beauty and power as far as I’m concerned. Well, this book covers much of the implications of these latter-day changes and shows just how far Tolkien progressed in his reimagining of his mythology. Luckily for lovers of Tolkien’s older stories such as myself it is apparent that Tolkien seemed to want to keep as much as he could of his original stories and mythic plot, while applying to it a more rigorous rationale for truth and likelihood when compared to (at least some) known facts about the world.
This book reads, and is presented, very much like a volume in the HoMe series, though technically it should be considered an addendum to it as opposed to a part of it. It also, to my mind, shares a number of similarities with _Unfinished Tales_, especially in its somewhat ‘hodgepodge’ construction: covering many different aspects of the ‘nature of middle-earth’ in a variety of sections and essays. Indeed, in some ways this book could be seen as a companion to UT since many of the entries, especially in the latter half of the book, include new and expanded material related to subjects covered in UT, but not previously published.
The first section of the book is likely to shock most readers of Tolkien simply by virtue of the sheer amount of math on display. It is primarily given over to Tolkien’s re-working of the story of the awakening of the elves and dives deeply into explicit details regarding their nature and number (esp. their procreative habits), with exhaustive (and sometimes exhausting) numeric charts calculating the growth of elvish generations from their awakening to their migration to Valinor. Tolkien goes through several different iterations of this data, always starting from the beginning when he reaches a point he find untenable or unfitting in his mind and the sheer amount of time and effort he spent on this seemingly simple and 'background' aspect of his elves, one that most people probably wouldn't even consider or care much about if it was pointed out to them, shows just how invested he was in the verisimilitude of his world.
Next we see discussions on the physical and spiritual nature of the beings of Arda, philosophical and metaphysical ruminations on the implications of elvish and human interactions with each other and the world around them, and a miscellany of topics covering everything from beards, hair, and elvish horsemanship to the proper way to make lembas, the geography of Gondor, and the tonal quality of dwarven voices. Many of the entries are, unsurprisingly, in the form of linguistic treatises, but prove to be much more than simple dictionary entries or purely dry linguistic jargon. There are a multitude of world building (and character expanding) seeds that flower within them and which yet again prove the centrality of the ‘linguistic side’ to nearly all of Tolkien’s creative work, if there were any out there who still doubted it. Even the plethora of mathematical tables about elven birth rates prove to be fertile ground and, as with his linguistic work, it is amazing to see the stories that emerge from amongst them.
That said this is definitely only for hard-core Tolkien aficionados, but it provides yet another fascinating glimpse into the mind of the man who created one of the most comprehensive and well-loved fictional universes ever devised....more
I imagine this is for me, as Gene Wolfe would put it, the Book of Gold. While I may have other books that have superseded it in my affections, and it I imagine this is for me, as Gene Wolfe would put it, the Book of Gold. While I may have other books that have superseded it in my affections, and it isn’t even my favourite amongst Tolkien’s works (I think these days that would go to The Silmarillion and some of its related texts), it will always be the book that started it all for me. You can read my original review of the book to get my overall thoughts on it, but this is for my read through with my son who’s currently 9.
I guess you could say that reading this book to my kids was in some ways a bit of a life goal for me (see the aforementioned review for reasons why), but when I had initially tried to read it to my daughter it was a bit of a bust. She is by no means averse to fantasy, but she is, alas, more of a Potter-head than a Tolkien-phile, though I still have hopes that some day I might get something by the professor to stick with her. At least she’s an avid reader…I can’t really ask for more than that, right? Given that my son is definitely NOT and avid reader, I had no idea that reading the Hobbit to my kids would ever happen, but when circumstances led to him asking me to read this to him I was more than happy to do so.
I don’t think I really have much to add aside to say that I was pleased to discover that he enjoyed the experience very much, as did I, and came away with a love for the book and it’s characters (especially Bilbo, Balin, and Beorn who also happen to be some of my favourites!) He has also indicated that he thinks we should tackle The Fellowship of the Ring next (he actually wanted to start there until I suggested we might be better off starting with the Hobbit) and I am quite curious to see how he takes it. It’s definitely a lot slower than the Hobbit, and since his expectations are very much coloured by the movies I’m not quite sure what to expect....more
The history of the writing of the Lord of the Rings comes to a close with _Sauron Defeated_ (well, with the exception of the appendices which get discThe history of the writing of the Lord of the Rings comes to a close with _Sauron Defeated_ (well, with the exception of the appendices which get discussed in _The Peoples of Middle Earth_, but I think we can consider that a slightly different thread). This volume is broken up into two major sections, only one of which directly relates to the writing of the LotR. The first section gives the final details about the development of the story of the LotR from the destruction of the ring at Mount Doom to the return of the hobbits to the Shire, while the second gives us a completely different story that further develops the tale of Numenor which composed in 1945-46 when Tolkien had taken a long hiatus from writing the LotR. I must admit that I found the second section much more compelling, even surprising and enlightening, in a way that the first simply couldn’t compare to. That’s not to say that there weren’t interesting nuggets to be gleaned from the first section, such as the fact of just how late the character of Arwen Undomiel and her role in the story came about, or the significant changes in the fate of Saruman and the exact nature of what would become the scouring of the Shire, and the inclusion of an unpublished epilogue to the story, but the second section was just so different, and in many ways seemed to give us a glimpse into Tolkien the man and the artist, that I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by it. The only obvious link between the two sections that would warrant their inclusion in the same volume of the History of Middle-Earth (aside from convenience) is found in the title, since both deal with a time in which the defeat of Sauron in different parts of Tolkien’s legendarium is central.
The second half of the book presents a story called _The Notion Club Papers_, which is an interesting amalgamation of several things: in part it appears as something of a parody of a group of pseudo-Inklings, perhaps giving the reader a glimpse into what kind of meetings Tolkien and his literary friends had; it morphs into what could be considered a continuation, or revision, of the earlier abandoned _Lost Road_ in which the story of the Fall of Numenor continues to develop and take on new features as it is mysteriously communicated to a modern day audience; and finally it also gives us the perhaps most complete glimpse we are likely to get of Tolkien the language-maker as we witness the birth and development of the Numenorean language of Adunaic.
I was surprised at first with how point-blank Tolkien’s apparent caricature of the Inklings was. We start off with a title (“Beyond Lewis or Out of the Talkative Planet”) that lets the reader know that Tolkien’s initial purpose (apparently) was to put C. S. Lewis in his sights and give a fictional (though perhaps no less serious for all that) critique of his (at the time) newly published work _Perelandra_ and its related prequel _Out of the Silent Planet_. In my view none of the Inkling characters presented here come across in what could be called a truly positive light (though it’s certainly not character assassination either), and while Tolkien explicitly states that one should not look for one-to-one correspondences between the fictional and real Inklings, he certainly seemed to be taking at least some of the less than flattering characteristics of his friends and putting them on display.
The Notion Club Papers starts with a discussion of the problem of convincingly portraying in a science fiction story the mechanism for getting one’s protagonist onto an alien world. To a modern reader (or me at least) this seemed an odd point of contention since the use of the tried-and-true space ship/rocket seems to me to be unproblematic, but I suppose in the days before the moon landing or any real results in attempted forays into space this may have seemed like nothing more than a pipe-dream. Apparently Tolkien felt that Lewis’ solution in both of the then published Cosmic trilogy was less than ideal. This debate soon shifts gears, though, as one member monopolizes the conversation by going into an in-depth description of his recent forays into the manipulation and use of dreams as a valid way to actually travel through time or space. The ‘dream frame’ is an old literary device often used by medieval authors, though its use here brought more contemporary authors such as E. R. Eddison and especially David Lindsay (in his _Voyage to Arcturus_) to mind for me. I couldn’t help but see this section as giving some real insights into Tolkien’s working process, esp. in regards to inspiration as he had often, albeit in a much more oblique way, made reference to the feeling that he was more of a transcriber of his stories looking for the ‘real’ tale as opposed to someone making things up purely from his imagination. I always took this to be simply metaphorical, but the way in which the process is presented, and the conviction and detail with which it is outlined here, made me think that perhaps there was a bit more of the esoteric to Tolkien’s own method than I would have at first credited. Of course Tolkien would no doubt be shocked and dismayed at my immediate desire to ascribe such a large auto-biographical element to The Notion Club Papers, and certainly always warned against the dangers of reading biography into a writer’s work, but in this case I really couldn’t help myself. The fact that I doubt Tolkien ever meant for this to be published to the wider public beyond his intimate friends (if at all), and that it deals with several elements of his personal life in a very close way, may mean that he was willing to be more transparent than he otherwise would have been. Of course, I could just be reading way too much into it, but I can’t help but think that the work as a whole really does give us a glimpse into some of the inner workings of the mind of Tolkien the artist.
As the meetings develop a new pair of members take center stage, detailing their own successful forays into the deep past using this dream method, out of which comes the burgeoning tale of the Fall of Numenor. It turns out that both characters are actual descendants of characters in the old tale (shades of the Lost Road here) and are picking up what I can only call the psychic resonances of the story (which nonetheless manages to break into the ‘real’ world in a very physical way). There’s a lot going on here, but I think the most significant elements are the drastic changes to the Silmarillion legendarium that take place, most surprisingly in the paucity (or complete disappearance) of the Elves. In the end Christopher Tolkien has what I think is a very valid explanation for this: that his father was likely trying to convey the story of Numenor (which was still very much within the context of his Middle-Earth legendarium) from a purely “mannish” perspective that had been eroded by time and thus, even with the implied dream/time travel element in the story, many of the ‘true’ elements that included the Eldar and their battles with Melkor were lost in the mists of time.
One might wonder why Tolkien returned to this tale of Numenor when he was in the very midst of writing what would (though unbeknownst to him) become his magnum opus. Part of the answer appears to lie in the fact that at the time Tolkien underwent what might have been a breakdown due to professional (and perhaps personal) pressures that left him with a severe case of writer’s block. Added to that may have been the fact that, as his new tale, ostensibly nothing more than a sequel to _The Hobbit_, became subsumed into his greater legends of the Silmarillion (something to which it had not really been connected to before) he needed to figure out how to make the divergent aspects of each gel. In some ways the tale of Numenor became central to this as it sets up the situation in Middle Earth at the time of the LotR and has direct links with the story of Aragorn and the kingdom of Gondor which was rapidly taking shape. I would also argue that the apparently recent inspirations around the Numenorean tongue Adunaic, which are interwoven into the tale and very much form a basis for the whole story itself, gave him the push he needed to write something new. The importance of Tolkien’s languages, and linguistic creation, to his story writing process (always stressed by him, but I think often misunderstood or overlooked by many readers) thus comes through very clearly. I will admit that the final section of the book, in which the excruciating details of Adunaic’s grammar and linguistic structure are detailed, was more or less skipped over by me. I really do not have a linguistic mind, but for those who do I imagine this would be a real treasure trove of information and insight.
This was, for me, one of the best entries in the History of the Lord of the Rings segments of the HoME series, though ironically less because of it’s depiction of how the LotR itself was developed, than because of a new (though related) story and the insights it seemingly gives to Tolkien the man and the artist. Recommended....more
Despite having great affection for the story of the fall of Gondolin amongst Tolkien’s legendarium of Middle-earth, I have to admit with being somewhaDespite having great affection for the story of the fall of Gondolin amongst Tolkien’s legendarium of Middle-earth, I have to admit with being somewhat disappointed in this volume. In a nutshell I think it comes down to my feeling that this tale is perhaps too sparse to require a volume of its own and ultimately shows better when seen in the context of the larger history of the First Age as presented in the History of Middle-earth series. The tale of the children of Hurin, for example, was full enough that it could be turned into a stand-alone volume, but alas I do not think the same can be said of the story of Tuor and Gondolin.
The disparate elements of the story certainly could not be woven together into anything like a homogeneous unit, and there was little enough additional material here to warrant, in my opinion at least, its own volume. It really is sad given that not only was the story of the tale of Gondolin and its tragic fall, along with the germ of the tale of Earendel that sprang from it, the genesis of the Matter of Middle-earth, but even worse that Tolkien’s late continuation of the story in the fuller mode seen in “Of Tuor and the Fall of Gondolin” was both excellent and incomplete, giving us only enough to show the promise of what might have been.
I think in all fairness I must admit that my dissatisfaction with this volume has more to do with me than with the contents of the book itself. For readers interested in Tolkien’s legendarium outside of what was in the published Silmarillion, but who don’t want to commit themselves to the twelve volume HoME series, this is a great way to get the lowdown on Gondolin, but as someone who thoroughly enjoyed the more fulsome coverage of HoME this really wasn’t strictly necessary. ...more
_The War of the Ring_ continues Christopher Tolkien’s examination of his father’s development of _The Lord of the Rings_ covering the destruction of I_The War of the Ring_ continues Christopher Tolkien’s examination of his father’s development of _The Lord of the Rings_ covering the destruction of Isengard and the battle of Helm’s Deep, Frodo and Sam’s initial journey into Ithilien towards Mordor, the confrontation with Shelob, and the battle of the Pelennor Fields.
While there was a fair amount of revision and rewriting in many of these chapters (especially in details of chronology and geography which seem to have been of special concern to Tolkien) and a significant period of time between versions where no writing at all occurred, it is still surprising how much of the story still seems to have come to Tolkien initially in something very close to the published text. Some of the most significant deviations that are of special interest:
• In this volume we see the creation of Faramir, and tied with his rapid growth as an important character is the development of the history of Gondor into something much fuller than it had first been imagined.
• Shelob was actually initially conceived as Ungoliant, the demonic spider from the Silmarillion (not simply one of her children), reduced in size and power after ages of hunger.
• The continued growth of Aragorn in both personal prestige and narrative importance and the solidification of ‘the return of the king’ story arc (including the paths of the dead storyline and the nature of Dunharrow).
• Still little to no sign of Arwen Undomiel and the re-capitulation of the Beren-Luthien story (Tolkien actually initially paired up Aragorn and Eowyn, though that relationship appears to have been short-lived). When the figure of Elrond’s daughter does appear it is interesting that her initial name was Finduilas...another direct reference to an ‘almost’ union of men and elves in the Silmarilion, this time from the story of Turin Turambar. Perhaps Tolkien was thinking that Aragorn would make up for Turin’s mistake in not getting together with his Finduilas?
• While it seems that from the beginning she was destined to kill the Witch-King (or Wizard-King as he is called in these drafts) Tolkien goes through a fair bit of waffling in regards to the fate of Eowyn: death or life? Initially she was slated to die heroically along with Theoden in her famous attack.
• Shockingly (to me at least) Tolkien seems to have toyed with giving Aragorn a ring of power at one point.
I’m in this series for the long haul and it is definitely enjoyable, but, as always, I think these are really for the completists and hard-core fans....more
I don’t think I have too much to say about _The Treason of Isengard_. It is very much, of course, a continuation of the previous HoME volume as we folI don’t think I have too much to say about _The Treason of Isengard_. It is very much, of course, a continuation of the previous HoME volume as we follow Tolkien’s further development of the story of the Lord of the Rings in as near a chronological manner as Christopher Tolkien is able to piece together from the numerous drafts, re-writings, and changes in his father’s text. That is perhaps the first thing to note: throughout the HoME series it has become obvious that Christopher Tolkien really did take on a monumental task in choosing to edit the early works/drafts of his father given the method (or madness?) of Tolkien’s writing process. That is definitely apparent in spades in this volume. Not only was Tolkien an inveterate re-writer, continually going back to the beginning of a previously written text to ‘polish it up’, only to end up re-writing the whole damn thing…usually before he had even finished the first draft of the initial phase, he was also in the habit of erasing and/or overwriting earlier pencil drafts in ink, adding marginal notes throughout, was often working on multiple competing versions of the same plot elements at the same time, and even inserting riders and writing stray notes on any scrap of paper he could find that refer to text on the ‘main’ pages. Truly a dizzying puzzle to try and unravel if one wants to discover a sequential progression in the text.
Some of the major developments to note in this volume:
- Here we see the final change of our friend Trotter the wooden shoe wearing hobbit-ranger to the figure that would eventually become Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur.
- Saruman emerges as a figure in the text (already a traitor), though still in a fairly minor role compared to the one he will occupy later.
- Lothlorien and Galadriel emerge seemingly from nowhere, an important development indeed given the central place Galadriel would come to occupy in Tolkien’s mind (to the point where he would go back and re-write huge segments of the Silmarillion material so she could be included…though that is not even hinted at yet).
- Gandalf is gradually raised in stature from the little old man who happens to be a wizard we saw in the original version of The Hobbit to something much more (though the concept of the Istari is not yet in place).
- Rohan and the society of the Riders developing out of whole cloth with obvious nods to Tolkien’s love of Anglo-Saxon culture and literature (esp. Beowulf) being apparent in their genesis.
- Some fun tidbits: it appears that Gandalf’s fall in Moria and subsequent return were part of the plan from the beginning; since we still have no Arwen the initial plan points to Aragorn falling for Eowyn when he meets her in Theoden’s Golden Hall (great vindication for numerous fan fic writers out there no doubt); Boromir was at first going to be an unremitting traitor who didn’t heroically die at the hands of Orcs while trying to save Merry and Pippin, but who would actually have been a full rival of Aragorn as the two vied for control of Minas Tirith.
Required reading if you have read the preceding volume and want to know how the story further grows and develops, but definitely not the point you want to start with the HoME series....more
Let me admit first off that _The Return of the Shadow_ (book 6 in the History of Middle-earth series) is exactly what I didn’t want to read when I firLet me admit first off that _The Return of the Shadow_ (book 6 in the History of Middle-earth series) is exactly what I didn’t want to read when I first heard that Christopher Tolkien was putting out a series of books of his father’s unpublished writings. As far as I was concerned we already had what Tolkien was willing and able to publish in The Hobbit and LoTR (and even something he hadn’t yet been able to publish in his lifetime in the form of The Silmarillion) so the appeal for me of seeing early drafts and material that the author himself had either superseded or conceivably felt was unpublishable didn’t seem like an appealing prospect. Why examine the dross when we already had the gold on display? Well, my foray into the other volumes of the series which detailed his monumental work in building the world, languages, and stories of what would become the First Age of Middle-earth in the Silmarillion material really opened my eyes to what a treasure trove there was and only added to my appreciation of what had previously been published. I saw that this was not simply a collection of discarded notes, imperfect drafts, and unpublishable material, but an expanded glimpse at the world Tolkien was creating. The sheer variety in both content and form meant that I was able to see much fuller versions of some stories that were only hinted at or told in precis in the published Silmarillion, and even the tales I was familiar with were often told in much more expanded, or even more impressive and enjoyable ways in some of these earlier documents.
So much for the Silmarillion material. Approaching the next ‘phase’ in the History of Middle-earth wherein Christopher tackles the early drafts of The Lord of the Rings seemed much more akin to what I had expected from the other volumes: early drafts and rejected material that would not deepen my appreciation of the published work except inasmuch as I would see how far superior it was to any early, and ultimately rejected, work. What little I knew of it seemed likely to hold up to that assumption: Aragorn originally conceived as a Hobbit with the unlikely (or at least unheroic) name of ‘Trotter’ who wore wooden shoes?! A version of the tale that was seen as little more than an unexpected (and even deemed by the author unnecessary) sequel to _The Hobbit_ that was primarily desired by the publisher to cash in on the success of the earlier children’s book? Why read a possibly twee early version of the epic fantasy that ended up creating (or at least validating) an entire genre of literature in its finally published form? It seemed like nothing so much as an exercise in disappointment.
The tipping point for me proved to be listening to Corey Olsen’s (aka the Tolkien Professor) podcasts for the HoME series. While listening to the episodes covering the Silmarillion material I began to see how unique a place LoTR held in Tolkien’s work. It is often assumed that the LoTR was the centre of the professor’s literary work, that _The Hobbit_ was always an early prequel to it, and that _The Silmarillion_ was a collection of early and/or unfinished material thrown together after the success of LoTR in the hopes of cashing in on that success. What emerges from reading the HoME series, however, is a very different picture. First of all it is obvious that the Silmarillion material was at the core of Tolkien’s mythology and represented perhaps the most important and meaningful literary work he did. It wasn’t simply the after-hours hobby of a bored professor of philology, but actually managed to marry his personal and professional interests in a unique way. The linguistic elements of the Silmarillion material are truly integral to the development of the stories and characters that came to embody his mythology and it would not be an overstatement to say that many of Tolkien’s own personal theories on linguistic and historical development of real world languages became hidden elements of his developing sub-created world. _The Hobbit_, by contrast, was initially conceived as having nothing to do with the Silmarillion mythology. True, there was some cross-fertilization mostly in regards to names used (Elrond, Gondolin, etc.), but Olsen (and the HoME material itself) make a strong case for the idea that this was merely Tolkien following a consistent pattern of re-using material in new contexts. He was ultimately making use of names and story elements that he quite frankly thought would never see the light of day otherwise and there existed between the two works a very real ‘firewall’ (as Olsen calls it) in regards to the worlds they inhabited. I would even go so far as to say that I think Tolkien started developing a fair bit of antipathy for _The Hobbit_: a children’s book he wrote on something of a whim that captured the imaginations of his publishers, and the reading public in general, but that led not to his desired goal of being able to publish the Silmarillion material that was so near and dear to his heart (his publishers went out of their way to, kindly and gently, nix that possibility), but instead led to a clamor for a sequel. ‘More about hobbits’ was the demand when Tolkien was hoping to publish something about the much higher and stranger matter of the Elves, their battle against the ultimate evil of Melkor, and their final decline. The LoTR thus started out very much as a direct sequel to _The Hobbit_, unrelated in all but some superficialities to his older and deeper material. It quickly gained something of a life of its own, however, growing into something that truly married the Hobbit material to the older mythology of the Silmarillion and resulted in the creation of something altogether new (not to mention something that transformed subsequent editions of _The Hobbit_ until it truly became what it is seen as today: the prequel to the LoTR more or less fully joined in a continuum to the Silmarillion material).
I was somewhat crestfallen upon reading the first few pages of _The Return of the Shadow_. My expectations were apparently being met as the story certainly started out in a less than impressive manner, especially when compared against the finished product. It was definitely much more twee and the main character being named ‘Bingo’ didn’t help. You can almost see Tolkien flailing around to find a story and some way to hang it onto a group of hobbits. There is perhaps a little too much of what Tolkien called ‘hobbit humour’ and an almost excessive concentration on hobbit family genealogies (something that still survived into the appendices of LoTR) and other minutiae. As a side note: at this point the somewhat strange figure of Tom Bombadil perhaps makes a bit more sense given the nature of the story as one geared towards children. The story did start to markedly improve as time went on, however, and it gained in depth and seriousness as was perhaps to be expected given the fact that Tolkien latched onto the obvious plot element from _The Hobbit_ upon which to tie a sequel: Bilbo’s magic ring. The meaning and significance of the ring began to grow and it was soon much more than merely a convenient tool for disappearing from inconvenient situations once it was tied in to the other remaining mystery from its parent volume: the shadowy figure of the Necromancer. These two elements coinciding led Tolkien to bring in some of the material from his later Silmarillion work (namely the existence of Thu/Sauron as a remnant of Melkor’s evil) and to expand on this with the creation of his role as the ‘Lord of the Ring’ in his bid for dominance over Middle-earth. In essence this transformed the story into something that adopted Tolkien’s Silmarillion material in a much more fundamental way. This was no longer simply a mere sharing of names, the connections started to grow deeper and the firewall was starting to crumble.
Things certainly improved (in my opinion at least) at an accelerated rate. Even the introduction of Trotter proved to be less twee than I thought it would be. A wooden-shoe-wearing hobbit-ranger certainly seems odd on the face of it, but while definitely an inferior character when compared to Aragorn, the story that Tolkien started to develop for Trotter, with the hints of both a connection to Gandalf and Bilbo and a dark and dangerous past, were actually somewhat intriguing. It is also surprising to note, as Christopher does, how close to the finished text (at least in terms of general story elements and overall plot) many sections of even the earliest drafts are once things apparently started gelling for Tolkien and the idea that this was ‘merely’ a children’s book sequel were more or less quashed. There were still many changes (especially in regards to the number of hobbits involved in the story, their names and relationships, and the ultimate make-up of the fellowship of the ring itself, not to mention the introduction of the character and storyline of Aragorn) and much of the text would still be further refined, but one can definitely see something very much recognizable as ‘the Lord of the Rings’ even in these early drafts.
I won’t go into any further detail, but while this may not have been my favourite volume in the HoME series it definitely was worth reading and proved to be much more intriguing than I at first expected. I’ll definitely keep on reading and would once again recommend it to any of Tolkien’s die-hard fans out there....more
_Tolkien and the Great War_ is an obviously well-researched book that goes into explicit (at times I must admit tedious) detail on J. R. 2.5 – 3 stars
_Tolkien and the Great War_ is an obviously well-researched book that goes into explicit (at times I must admit tedious) detail on J. R. R. Tolkien’s involvement in World War I and its possible impact on his then-current and later writings. We begin by observing Tolkien’s earliest close friendships formed at St.King Edward’s Grammar School under the auspices of the “TCBS” (an acronym for Tea Club, Barrovian Society) where the core group of Tolkien, Christopher Wiseman, Robert Gilson, and G. B. Smith became close artistic confidantes, encouragers and critics of each other’s work. Convinced that they were a group that would change the world with their work, their dreams were turned to harsh reality with the advent of “the war to end all wars”.
We spend the majority of the remainder of the book following Garth as he traces the movements and vicissitudes of the various platoons to which each member of the TCBS was assigned, with a special concentration on Tolkien himself. It’s common knowledge that the Great War winnowed a generation, destroying the optimism of the Edwardian era and putting paid to facile romantic notions of the heroism of war. The ‘innovations’ of technology that made killing men easier than it ever had been before, along with the harrowing conditions of trench life and seemingly incompetent leadership, made this conflict a wake-up call for the world that shattered many illusions. As Tolkien himself noted: “By 1918, all but one of my close friends were dead.” In the midst of this carnage and despair Tolkien managed to begin work on the poems and stories that would become the germ for his masterpieces The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings as well as the accompanying material that would evolve into the posthumously published The Silmarillion.
Garth does a fine job giving us details of the World War I experience, but I have to admit that in general I was a bit underwhelmed by this book. I found the prose to be a bit workmanlike, and this wasn’t helped by the sheer amount of detail. I appreciate the thoroughness of Garth’s research, but I did find my eyes glazing over a bit from time to time as troop movements, platoon names, and other details were gone into. Some of the extra biographical detail given on Tolkien was interesting, but I must admit that most of it I already knew, at least in broad strokes, from other sources so I didn’t come away feeling that I had learned anything heretofore unknown to me about the man himself. The main gist of Garth’s critical argument, namely that Tolkien, far from being an anachronistic throwback despite his literary tastes, was actually truly a man of his era who was responding uniquely to the horrors present at the birth of the twentieth century has also been covered by others, especially Tom Shippey in several of his works.
I did find the last section of the book the most interesting. In it Garth concentrates almost exclusively on the early writings Tolkien did in what would ultimately become his legendarium of Middle Earth and examines how his experiences in the war may have coloured the world he created, or even been lifted from direct experiences in his life. It is a kind of ‘biographical criticism’ for which Tolkien himself had great distaste and whose value he felt was dubious at best, but I must admit that much of what Garth posits makes sense to me, and I imagine that Tolkien’s youth, coupled with the monumental nature of the events through which he was living, could not help but leave their mark on what he wrote in ways perhaps more apparent than exists in his later, more mature writings.
In retrospect my review is probably unduly harsh. This was a fine work of biographical criticism giving great detail about a formative period of a great writer’s life. I think it was simply the fact that I wasn’t utterly wowed by the book, and found some moments slow going, that made it an interesting, though not inspiring, experience for me. ...more
Like, I assume, many others I am only aware of Owen Barfield and his works due to the fact that he was a member (a ‘minor’ one as many would have it) Like, I assume, many others I am only aware of Owen Barfield and his works due to the fact that he was a member (a ‘minor’ one as many would have it) of the Inklings. This group included men, like J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, and even Charles Williams, whose fame has proven to be much more far reaching than his own and one might opine that Barfield is the fourth Inkling (analogous to being the fifth Beatle I think). After reading this book I can understand both why he likely deserves to be better known, as well as why he isn’t. As is often the case when I read works by members of generations prior to my own, I can only marvel at the length and breadth of their knowledge. Barfield was, professionally at least, a London solicitor, but his knowledge of philosophy, literature, and even psychology is astounding. This erudition is on full display in _Poetic Diction_ and while I would argue that Barfield is *almost* as good at presenting complex intellectual ideas in a way that is palatable to the average reader, he doesn’t quite reach the level of accessibility attained by his friend C. S. Lewis (though I might argue, perhaps unfairly, that this may be due to the fact that he simplifies less than did his friend). I am not knowledgeable enough in either linguistics or philosophy to comment on the ultimate validity of Barfield’s theories in this book, but I think his arguments were clear enough, and hopefully my understanding thorough enough, that I can at least give a sketch of them.
In the broadest terms, Barfield is attempting to not simply give an account of how a poet ought to compose their work (as the title might suggest), but nothing less than to illustrate the development of human consciousness as exemplified in his distinction between poetic and rational thought. Ultimately, he is outlining the difference between pre-modern (really pre-historical, both literally and figuratively) humanity and post-historical humanity as seen in how they participated in the world and the way in which this can be uniquely seen in the development of language. According to Barfield the human mind moved from a state of pure participation in Nature (with a capital ‘N’) in which our consciousness (and also therefore language) was subsumed, to an abstract and rational mode of thought that led to true self-awareness. This self-awareness severed our direct link to ‘natural’ participation, but granted the ability to perceive (in an us-them relationship of which we had not previously been aware) the realities of nature through the vehicle of metaphor. Ultimately poetic prose, in its broadest definition, is the way in which the inspired human mind can use metaphor in order to create new meanings in human understanding of the world. This use of metaphor is a more or less direct link to the previous ‘holistic’ way in which humanity viewed the world and is only perceptible by the Poet, an individual granted flashes of insight that recall a more primitive (or perhaps I should say primal) state of mind and exemplifies the concrete relationships of things in the world that we would otherwise miss. As with all of his Inkling compatriots Barfield is fascinated by myth and sees the life and thought of early humanity as being immersed in mythic consciousness, a consciousness which has since been lost, but which can sometimes be regained, piece by piece, through the creative activity of the poet.
The majority of the book is spent by Barfield in defining his terms, providing examples, and clarifying the distinction between poetic and prosaic language (and insight). He attempts to give a broad overview of the stages of human consciousness and the birth and development of poetic diction as seen in the works of ancient and modern poets as well as in the development of language. He raises concerns with the direction that not only linguistics, but philosophy and psychology have taken as being antithetical to the poetic mindset and which he believes will ultimately lead humanity farther from the truths of the world that can only be provided through the vehicle of poetic diction. This is ironic given the modern, and post-modern, obsession with ‘fact’ and logic, but Barfield sees these very characteristics as at the root of the weakness of their approach. As I noted above, I am not well versed enough in philosophy and linguistics to really comment on this, but I couldn’t help but feel that Barfield’s ideas are strongly influenced by the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, now considered debunked and very out of date. Barfield’s distinction might be that language, far from being something that determines our beliefs and ideas through accidental and relative circumstances, is rather a tool which, under the right conditions, allows us to perceive an objective truth in the world. I may be way off track here and I am merely grasping at things of which I am only partially aware, but this book certainly gave me much food for thought, and I am now very curious to read some of Barfield’s other works to see what further light they can shed on his ideas for me....more
In the Book of Lost Tales, volumes 1 and 2, we have a more or less full picture of the earliest work Tolkien did in the development of his personal myIn the Book of Lost Tales, volumes 1 and 2, we have a more or less full picture of the earliest work Tolkien did in the development of his personal mythology that was to grow into the tales of Middle Earth. It was a mythology meant to provide his country England with something he felt it sorely needed, a foundation myth, and it was a vehicle which allowed him to explore and expand upon his own fascination with the world and stories of Faery and his love for the invented languages of his youth. The frame of the entire mythology at this point centred on the character of an English mariner (initially called Eriol and later Aelfwine each with varying origin stories) who was shipwrecked upon the isle of Tol Eressëa, the last bastion of the Elves who have all but fled the mortal world. Here are recounted to him the ‘lost tales’ of the Elves from prior to their departure from the wider world of men.
While it always remained the case that Tolkien envisioned his Middle-Earth stories to be tales about the earliest, unknown histories of our own world as opposed to stories set on some completely alien fantasy world, the two Book of Lost Tales volumes really point out just how strongly Tolkien initially envisioned this link to be. In the first volume we were presented with some of the more cosmogonic myths: stories of the Valar and the creation of the world, the creation of the two Trees of Valinor and the Silmarils, the creation of the sun and moon, and the ultimate exile of the Elves from Valinor to the wider world. In the second volume things get a little closer to the ground as we hear tales of heroes and their deeds in their attempt to fight against the forces of Melko who would overthrow all that is good and beautiful in the world.
I have to admit that volume 2 had a bumpy start for me with the Tales of Beren & Tinúviel and Turambar & the Foalókë being distinctly inferior to what they were to become in their fuller, more developed forms. In Beren and Luthien two things stood out as road blocks to my enjoyment: Beren as first envisioned was actually an elf of the Noldor and to me this robs the tale of his love of the immortal Tinúviel of much of its tragic grandeur, though it must be admitted that some does still remain; added to that was the fact that Melko’s lieutenant in the tale, and the main opponent to the heroes, was not Sauron of the Ainur and lord of the isle of werewolves, but Tevildo Prince of Cats! It might just be me, but a giant house cat (no matter how large and mean) is a slightly less intriguing villain than one of the greatest of the gods. As I noted in my review of book 1, Tolkien was still working within a model that was much more based on traditional ‘fairy tales’ than what his stories of the First Age of Middle-Earth were to become so this element isn’t exactly unexpected, just not my particular cuppa. As to Turambar, there wasn’t anything specific I could point to as the deciding factor in my relative lack of enthusiasm, but having read what this tale was to become it certainly pales in comparison. For me that can pretty much sum up the points at which I was disappointed in both volumes: these are much paler, thinner, and in some ways shadowy versions of the tales I know. That being said, they have the virtue of being able to show me just how much the constant work and revision, the lifetime of unceasing development, love and thought that went into them truly turned what were inspired, but limited stories into things that truly were comparable to the mythic workings of a people. The depth and reality of the tales of Middle-Earth all started here with something much smaller and simpler, but which would prove to be the seeds of something so much greater. The layers that one can see were built upon these first canvasses give a fascinating glimpse into a creative process that was truly monumental.
So on to what I did like in this volume: the tale of the Fall of Gondolin was almost all I could have hoped for. While I still weep at the unrealized potential of the rewrite to this story that Tolkien had started but abandoned far too early as presented in Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-Earth, I at least was able to see the story of Tuor and his flight to the doomed city of Gondolin just as it is about to be overcome by the forces of Melko in a complete, and I must say rather satisfying, version. Tied in with this is the story of the Nauglafring, or the necklace of the Dwarves, which in itself is a rousingly Germanic tale of greed, curses, and doom that also allows for two of the great love stories of Tolkien’s mythology to this point (that of Beren and Tinúviel on the one hand and of Tuor and Idril on the other) to dovetail into each other and become the genesis for the tale of Eärendel which was in many ways the very heart of Tolkien’s mythology from the beginning. Eärendel himself was the child of Tuor and Idril who falls in love with Beren & Tinúviel’s granddaughter Elwing and whose great mission is to be the only mariner able to sail to the land of Valinor. Interestingly in some early versions of the tale as presented here Eärendel is sometimes either unable to make his way to Valinor or finds that his journey there proved unnecessary and ultimately this is another case where Tolkien’s later development of the tale proved to be more satisfying than what we initially find, but it is still an intriguing (and more importantly a fuller) glimpse into what would otherwise be little more than some bare bones references in later works.
The final chapter of the volume is made up of scattered notes and poems that relate explicitly to the frame narrative and the life story of the mariner Eriol/Aelfwine. To me the greatest value these fragments hold is in showing how strongly Tolkien initially wanted to tie in his tales of Faery with the history of our own world (and specifically with England). I myself don’t worry too much about this aspect of Tolkien’s work, but it was obviously hugely important to him. Even in the later development of the tales of Middle-Earth which seem rather distant from any kind of mythological history of England we can see that the ‘historical’ element remains: specifically in the frame narrative of the ‘Red Book of Westmarch’ which lies as the pseudo-historical source of all of the published tales of Tolkien.
All in all while a bit uneven, this book gave some intriguing glimpses into Tolkien’s art, especially in places where a later development of a given tale was either never done or where what does exist is only fragmentary. Definitely something of primary interest to the Tolkien aficionado. ...more
My first attempt to read _The Book of Lost Tales_ was made way too early in my life and made certain that my response was to put it on the sh3.5 stars
My first attempt to read _The Book of Lost Tales_ was made way too early in my life and made certain that my response was to put it on the shelf and decide that all of this background stuff, especially taken from this early phase in Tolkien’s life as a writer, was way too different from the Middle-Earth stories that I loved for me to waste any time on it. Looking at where the book mark from my first attempt still sat when I picked it up again, I noticed that I didn’t even get much beyond the first several pages of the introductory chapter “The Cottage of Lost Play”. I remember thinking that it was just altogether too twee for me, what with the Eldar of Middle-Earth still being referred to as ‘faeries’ and the, to me, bizarre structure of a wanderer coming to a tiny cottage (bigger on the inside than the outside) peopled by dancing and singing children and adults who primarily sat around telling tales and reciting pretty mediocre poetry. It wasn’t really Middle-Earth now was it? Well, at the time I put down the volume and decided that I’d stick with the ‘real’ stuff of LotR, The Hobbit and The Silmarillion and that, as they say, was that for probably about two and a half decades. Then it came about that I discovered my greatest love vis a vis Tolkien’s work was growing to be the posthumously published The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-Earth, both of which contained some of the most beautiful and powerful of Tolkien’s writing. I looked at the corpus of ‘The History of Middle Earth’ with something of a new eye and decided that I might just dip into it and see what it was like. I consciously chose to first read those volumes that dealt with the matter of the First and Second ages of Middle-Earth and were latest in the chronology of composition thus presumably assuring that I was coming across ideas and stories that were closer in tone and content to the ones with which I was so familiar and that thrilled me with their mythic reverberations. I ended up loving what I found in Morgoth's Ring and The War of the Jewels and decided that maybe this huge work undertaken by Christopher Tolkien to present the works of his father in toto wasn’t an altogether bad idea after all (especially given my hunger for more material regarding the tales as told in The Silmarillion).
So now I find myself re-embarking on the journey from the beginning and tackling the very Book of Lost Tales (part one) that defeated me in my youth. I’m glad I came back. Pushing through past the point in the first chapter beyond which I never made it before I actually found a fair bit to like, even though it wasn’t the undiluted Middle-Earth vintage I had initially wanted. I was actually reminded a bit of William Morris’ medieval romances that so influenced Tolkien as I read about the journey of Eriol the mariner upon the Isle of Tol Eressëa and once the tales themselves began to be told I saw that there was a surprising amount of coherence between these earliest versions of the myths of Middle-Earth with what eventually came to be published in The Sil. The differences themselves were intriguing and I found as the chapters sped on the framing device didn’t bother me half as much as once it had. I will readily admit that much of the poetry in this volume leaves something to be desired. I am not one of those readers of Tolkien that skips over the poems, and I think that many of them are quite beautiful (esp. Bilbo’s poem of Eärendil sung in Rivendell), but the early ones showcased in this volume are not really my cup of tea (though one can certainly see Tolkien’s word-craft in them improving as time went on). The Cottage of Lost Play itself took on greater interest as well as I started to see some parallels between it and the ultimate development of Elrond’s house of Rivendell as “a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep or story-telling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all’. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear, and sadness.”
Eriol the mariner, a man from medieval England who has found his way to the magical isles of the west, sits in this pleasant house and has recounted to him many of the tales of the elder days when the Elves were alone in Middle-Earth, or mankind just arising from their ages long slumber. All of these tales are ones that a reader of The Silmarillion will already be familiar with: the creation myth of the Music of the Ainur, the building of Valinor and creation of the Two Trees of Light, the battles against Melkor (here named Melko) and his initial imprisonment, the coming of the Elves to the blessed lands and their ultimate rebellion and return to Middle-Earth in pursuit of Melko, and the myth of the creation of the sun and moon upon the death of the two trees. Some of these are not very far from the more final versions that were presented in The Silmarillion, while others display drastic differences (such as the expanded legend of the sun and moon, the extensive bits that deal with cosmology and the make-up of the world, and the inclusion of Valar who mate and even include in their number some gods of war), but it is very safe to say that unless you have a deep and abiding love for Middle-Earth, and especially tales of the elder days, you probably won’t get much out of this book. I would agree with those who claim this is really only for aficionados of Tolkien’s tales who want more and who are interested in seeing the development of his mythology. It is indeed a fascinating peek over the shoulder of Tolkien as he writes his tales and we finally start to get a glimpse of the sheer magnitude of the effort that his son expended simply in producing from the jumble of inter-related texts about the legends of the Elves a volume as slim and relatively cohesive as The Silmarillion.
I’m looking forward to tackling Book II of the lost tales and proceeding with the history of Middle-Earth texts at least up to volume 5 to continue to get my fix and maybe even get a taste of some legends of the elder days that I haven’t already experienced in another form. Recommended for hard-core Tolkien fans who don’t mind critical apparatus and multiple versions of tales....more
All of the History of Middle-earth volumes that I have read thus far have been chock full of stories, details, notes, and essays that go a long way toAll of the History of Middle-earth volumes that I have read thus far have been chock full of stories, details, notes, and essays that go a long way to showing the sheer scope of what Tolkien was attempting to create from his formative years up to and beyond the creation of his most famous works (The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings), but in many ways this latest volume seemed to be nearly bursting at the seams. This foray through the HoME volumes has been an intriguing journey for me (and one that I’ve enjoyed far more than I would have thought) and now it would appear that the first phase of it has come to a close, for it is in _The Lost Road_ that we reach the point Tolkien had come to in the creation of his original mythology before embarking on what would be perhaps the most important, and undeniably the most famous, (though also arguably the most disruptive) stage in his career: the composition of The Lord of the Rings.
Many nerds such as myself who are intimately familiar with the legends surrounding the lives of the Inklings, that group of Oxford writers that centred around Tolkien and his friend C. S. Lewis, know the story of a discussion the two men had when they decided that there was a dearth of the kinds of mythological and heroic tales that so fueled their own imaginations and thus as Tolkien recalled Lewis saying: “if they won’t write the kind of books we want to read, we shall have to write them ourselves.” Lewis decided to write a story that centred on the intrusion of myth into the world via the vehicle of space travel, while Tolkien was to write a story in which this happened through time travel. Lewis ended up creating the ‘Space Trilogy’ (in my mind his best works of fiction), in which his philologist hero (a probable partial nod to Tolkien himself) is thrust into a wider cosmos in which the beings and wars of the mythical world are seen to be all too real. Tolkien, as was alas often the case, never ended up finishing his story, though the fragments that exist are presented in this volume and make up the first section in which we see the birth of what was to become an important element of his ever-growing and evolving history of Middle-earth: the rise (and ultimate fall) of the fabled isle of Númenor.
Like so many of the elements of Tolkien’s mythology the importance of Númenor seems to be contradicted by the relative scarcity of actual material relating to it. In his published works it is little more than a myth and legend from the distant past whose importance looms large in implication, though less so in apparent fact. Even the posthumously published The Silmarillion has relatively little to contribute on the subject. This was one reason, I think, that the stories which presented an inside look into Tolkien’s conceptions of Númenor (both in this volume and in the book Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-Earth) are especially tantalizing to me. Amongst all of the many writings and ideas left ‘unfinished’ by Tolkien I would probably pair the isle of Númenor with his sparse tales of Tuor, Earendil and the fall of Gondolin as the ‘missed opportunities’ that most torment me. I wish he had written more, and more fully, on these topics and so what I can find on them I treasure.
_The Lost Road_ gives us some early outlines on Númenor as a concept and its eventual fall within the context of his still developing Middle-earth mythology, along with the few chapters that Tolkien actually wrote of “The Lost Road” (his proposed companion book to Lewis’) in which a father and son were to travel back in time and discover their connection not only to this mythical isle, but also to many other significant moments in history which they would vicariously experience through their previous lives. It is in these texts that ‘Sauron’ was first used as the name for the lieutenant of Morgoth and it was perhaps his important role as the key behind Númenor’s fall (along with his off-stage appearance as ‘the Necromancer’ in _The Hobbit_) that may have contributed to his pivotal role in the work which Tolkien was to begin writing soon after and which would become his magnum opus: _The Lord of the Rings_.
The second part of the text returns us to more familiar ground as we see the further evolution of Tolkien’s composition of the Silmarillion proper in the form of an updated series of annals (for both Beleriand and Valinor), a reworking of his ‘cosmogonical myth’ the Ainulindalë in which the angelic beings called the Ainur sing worldly creation into being, and ‘the Lhammas’, a text devoted to detailing the development of the languages of the elves within the fictional framework of Middle-earth (and which I found much more compelling than that description is likely to imply). Finally section two closes with a version of the ‘Quenta Silmarillion’ in which Tolkien again rewrites the entire history of the first age of Middle-earth in a somewhat compressed form…though much of the wording will be familiar to those who have read the published Silmarillion. In contrast to the first two volumes of the HoME series where even many of the familiar stories and characters were sometimes only vaguely recognizable, we now see much that is not only familiar, but often exactly corresponds to what we will see in the published Silmarillion. There seem to be relatively few elements that are yet to change and thus it is much easier to look back across the various volumes and gain a glimpse of how it was that Christopher Tolkien came up with the final text of the published Silmarillion.
The final sections of the book (part 3 and the appendices) will be of primary interest to linguists and others who want to get to the root of the work that, by his own admission, lay behind the creation of all of Tolkien’s writings and were their ultimate key: the invented elvish languages. Along with a detailed set of etymologies, there are lists of names and some details on Tolkien’s second (and final) map of the Silmarillion. There is definitely a lot to be gleaned from these pages, but I have to admit that I skimmed over most of them. Perhaps on a subsequent read I will be more attentive, but at this time it really was the story elements of the earlier portions of the book that held my interest. Again: if you are a hard-core fan then this is definitely for you, if not then why are you reading this review?...more