Tom Bombadil – Master and Mystery

By Tedoras

            Mention the name of Tom Bombadil around Tolkien fans and you are likely to spark a debate: a debate which, in Tolkien fandom, remains one of the most controversial and longest-argued of them all. This is perhaps because even the most fundamental questions surrounding Tom Bombadil are hard to answer; certainly, he is the most enigmatic character in The Lord of the Rings. Because of his uncanny nature, Tom Bombadil remains unique among all of Tolkien’s characters: as readers, we have the same understanding of him today as readers did when they first discovered him—that is to say, while scholarly works on Aragorn and Frodo abound, we are no closer to uncovering the true Tom Bombadil today than we were almost sixty years ago. In writing this article, I hope to accomplish a few goals: first, to present a thorough character study of Tom Bombadil (i.e. to lay out what we know); second, to discuss the main or popular theories in the debate (i.e. to lay out what we think); and third, to draw a conclusion (or, rather, an inference) as to the true nature of Tom Bombadil. Whether you are a veteran of this debate or are just now being exposed to it, I hope you will join me on a journey of herculean proportions to answer the most testing of all questions: who (or what) is Tom Bombadil?

As Saruman coldly says in The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey: “Let us examine what we know.” Well, in this instance, that is very apt advice, indeed. Tom Bombadil, as many of you already know, stumbles upon the hobbits in the Old Forest in September of the Third Age 3018; he proceeds to rescue them from Old Man Willow, and then brings them along to his home deep in the Forest where he lives with his (also rather enigmatic) wife Goldberry. Tom is marked throughout these episodes with a light and cheery tone: from his colorful attire to his seemingly continual singing (and his ring a dong dillo’s). Yet Tom’s light-hearted nature—while ostensibly unwarranted, considering where he lives—is, in fact, well-attributed: he is a very, very old and wise man (or rather, being that looks like a man). We will, in time, return to look more closely at the importance and uniqueness of Tom’s personality, but for now, let us focus on his age.

Readers quickly become aware that Tom is a special character, even from our very first meeting with him. One of the reasons for this is his fantastic age. And while it may not surprise us that Tom is indeed old, just how old may. Frodo, who appears just as confused about Tom as we are as readers, asks him repeatedly, “Who are you?” (Tolkien 129). Tom replies that he is “eldest,” and then he proceeds to explain:

“Tom was here before the river and the trees…He made paths before the Big People, and saw the Little People arriving…When the Elves passed westward, Tom was already here, before the seas were bent…before the Dark Lord came from Outside.” (129)

Since Tom’s own information is arguably the most accurate about him, let us use the above quotation to determine just how old he is. First, we know Tom has lived in Arda since “before the river and the trees,” a reference to the Spring of Arda. The Spring of Arda is the period from 1900 to 3450 (in Valian Years, not solar years, mind you—though we will return to this soon) of the Years of the Lamps, in which the world was populated with living things. Secondly, he has been in Middle-earth since year 1 of the First Age, when Men awoke; additionally, he saw the hobbits migrating west around T.A. 1300. Tom also saw the Elves pass west: this refers to the Sundering of the Elves and, more precisely, to the First and Second Sunderings in the Years of the Trees 1105 and 1115, respectively. The “seas were bent” in F.A. 587 following the War of Wrath. Most interestingly, though, is that Tom was in Arda before Morgoth (and, in turn, all the Valar) came there during the First War, from year 1 to about 1499 of the Years of the Lamps. Thus, we know that Tom Bombadil was one of the first—if not the very first—inhabitants of Arda following the Music of the Ainur and the creation of Eä.

Now, knowing that Tom has existed (it is, as yet, impossible to say that he was born or created, or even that he entered Arda) since year 1 of the Years of the Lamps, we can calculate his exact age. We must note, however, the sort of ripple that exists in time in Tolkien’s works: each year in the Years of the Lamps and Years of the Trees is a Valian year (about 9.582 solar years). The First Age, with the rising of the Sun, marks the use of solar years in counting. So, we can use the range from 1 Years of the Lamps to T.A. 3018 (when Tom meets the hobbits) to calculate his age. We simply multiply 3500 (the number of Valian years in the Years of the Lamps) by 9.582 (3500 x 9.582 = 33,537), repeat this process for the Years of the Trees (~1500 x 9.582 = 14,373), and add the total number of solar years from all the Ages up until T.A. 3018 (590 + 3,441 + 3018 = 7049). So, by T.A. 3018 Tom Bombadil is already some 54,959 (solar) years old!

Beyond his age, Tom is characterized by a few other unique traits. First is his reaction (or lack thereof) to the Ring. “Show me the Ring!” he says to Frodo, who, surprisingly, hands it right over without any qualms (much in contrast to the very protective, hesitant Frodo we see later on). Tom proceeds to “put it to his eye and laugh[s]” (130). Yes, the reaction of Tom Bombadil to the One Ring, the most powerful and dangerous object in the world, is laughter—not worry nor despair, and certainly not fear. Then, when Tom puts the Ring on his finger, there is “no sign of [him] disappearing” (130). And how does Tom react to this instance? You’ve got it right: he laughs and, to further show how little he cares for the Ring, he does what appears to be a little sleight of hand with it before returning it to Frodo “with a smile” (130).

Not only is Tom unaffected by the Ring himself, but he notices its effects on others. When Frodo slips on the Ring (to check that is, in fact the Ring after lending it to Tom), Tom immediately notices the invisible hobbit sneaking off:

“‘Hey there!’ cried Tom, glancing towards [Frodo] with a most seeing look in his shining eyes. ‘Hey! Come Frodo, there! Where be you a-going? Old Tom Bombadil’s not as blind as that yet. Take off your golden ring!” (131)

Clearly, Tom is unaffected, personally or otherwise, by the Ring. And he is the only character in the whole of the novel to have this ostensible immunity to the Ring. It is certainly a powerful being that holds this trait.

Yet what do we typically associate with power and wisdom? Perhaps visions of age-worn, rather tough and callous individuals spring to mind—yet this is not the case with Tom Bombadil. As I noted before, Tom has a rather affable, light-hearted personality. He is certainly not a man of affectation: no matter the circumstance nor the people involved, Tom is always in a joyous mood, singing and bouncing around (or at least disposed to do so). Tom is so happy-go-lucky because he has no concept of fear. Take the following examples: (1) he rescues the hobbits from the clutches of Old Man Willow as if he were reprimanding a child, not challenging a great evil; (2) he lives in the Old Forest, a place ripe with fearful beasts and about which tales of fright abound; (3) he saves the hobbits from a barrow-wight, coming with song and a spring in his step to one of the most dreadful and dangerous mishaps in the story. Take this quotation from “Fog on the Barrow-Downs,” for example:

“’You won’t find your clothes again,’ said Tom, bounding down from the mound, and laughing as he danced round them in the sunlight. One would have thought that nothing dangerous or dreadful had happened; and indeed the horror faded out of their hearts as they looked at him, and saw the merry glint in his eyes.” (140)

It is plain to note: where others would fear, Tom Bombadil does not. It is not even that Tom is simply not afraid, nor that he has overcome his fear; rather, he has no concept, no idea whatsoever, of fear. He is entirely composed of the good-natured, light-hearted fibers that render him capable of laughing in the very face of the One Ring.

And this lack of fear (especially with regards to the Ring) is unique. Gandalf certainly shows a sense of fear on many occasions: from his fear of entering Moria, to his fear of the Ring and the Enemy. Galadriel and Elrond both fear the Ring, for in either using it or keeping it hidden they know it will bring about their ruin. Even the Enemy is not free from the grasp of fear: when he learns of Aragorn’s return and the possibility of united opposition to him, Sauron begins to feel afraid. While the fear that all of these characters experience may differ in many ways, fear it is nonetheless. And it is exactly this sense of fear that Tom Bombadil does not possess.

There remains now just one last point regarding Tom’s character that I believe is worth noting: his repeated association with the earth. Frodo, the night the hobbits spend in Tom Bombadil’s house, has a vivid dream of

“a song that seemed to come like a pale light behind a grey rain-curtain, and growing stronger to turn the veil all to glass and silver, until at last it was rolled back, and a far green country opened before him under a swift sunrise.” (132)

This dream—a clear reference to Valinor—is interrupted: Frodo awakens to see “Tom whistling like a tree-full of birds” and he notes “the sun was already slanting down the hill…Outside everything was green and pale gold” (132). Here, we note Tom’s stark association with the earth or, perhaps more prominently, his dissociation from Valinor. Tom interrupts this dream (in essence, the thought that he may be associated with Valinor), and he immediately brings Frodo back to the earth: to the birds, trees, and green of the living, mortal earth. The notion that Tom is more an earthly, temporal being is quite important: it is vindicated by what we have learned of his age, and it will greatly help us in deciding what Tom is and isn’t.

Knowing what we do about Tom Bombadil now, we can move on to the second half of this task: discovering who Tom truly is. We will be looking at the main and other popular theories of this debate, and one by one, we will see which, if any of the pre-proposed categories, Tom fits. After thoroughly examining all options, then—and only then—will we be able to make a final conclusion. (And, if we are lucky, such a conclusion may not be that we will simply never know the answer.)

Is Tom…

A Man, Elf, Hobbit, Dwarf, etc?

Tom is decidedly not a member of any of the races or kindreds of Middle-earth. We can most certainly eliminate him from all such groups (especially from Men and Elves, which would be the two most likely groups) by noting his age (i.e. he was around before them), his physical characteristics (size, beard, etc.), and how the Ring does not affect him.

A Vala?

It is certainly difficult to claim that Tom is one of the great Powers of the World for many reasons. First, all fourteen of the Valar are accounted for, and Tom is not named among them. Second, as we noted before, Tom was living in Arda before the Valar (led by Morgoth) entered the world. Third, Tom refers to himself as “Eldest,” a title to which all the Valar are beholding, not just he (if indeed he were a Vala). Lastly, we know that Tom calls Morgoth “the Dark Lord” (as quoted above). It is hard to imagine any of the Valar referring to their greatest rival, the embodiment of Evil, by this name: certainly, the Valar reserved such reverence in the title “Lord” for Manwe alone. Additionally, fans over at The Encyclopedia of Arda have noted that characterize we would expect to note that Tom is a Vala (such as Gandalf, one of the Maiar), do not.

A Maiar?

This theory is, in some ways, a rather attractive one. We know, first of all, that not all of the Maiar were named by Tolkien—this, of course, allows for hypothesizing that Tom is indeed one of them. However, some good counterpoints contest this argument. First, Tom is unaffected by the Ring. We know for certain that other Maiar, from Gandalf to Sauron, were affected by the power and draw of the One Ring. Additionally, remember the total lack of a sense of fear we discussed before? Well, a sense of fear regarding the Ring (or its fate, for the Enemy) pervades the Maiar involved with this struggle. Yet such is not the case with Tom. Also, it is interesting to note how these Maiar are all allied, with one side or another, while Tom remains independent from the conflict.

The One?

Some have even pushed the idea that Tom is The One, Eru Ilúvatar. Yet for all the auspicious remarks made about Tom (how he is “eldest,” etc.), this theory does not hold water either. At the Council of Elrond, we learn many of the reasons why this theory is false. Gandalf states that “he cannot alter the Ring itself, nor break its power over others,” a trait that we would assume the mightiest being of them all, the creator himself, would possess (259). Glorfindel also comments on the idea of giving Tom the Ring to keep safe: “in the end, if all else is conquered, Bombadil will fall, Last as he was First” (259). The notion that Sauron and his folk could defeat Eru (indeed, the notion that Eru is even capable of being killed, defeated, or otherwise harmed) seems rather ridiculous. Furthermore, evidence from Tolkien himself puts a final end to this theory: in Letter 181, Tolkien explicitly states that there is no embodiment of Eru, who exists apart from the World entirely.

A Spirit?

In many of his earlier writings on what would become The Silmarillion (as collected by Christopher Tolkien in The Book of Lost Tales), Tolkien had a concept of Middle-earth as much more similar to his idea of Faerie. Originally, many spirits and sprites (of all kinds and names) entered the World just as the Ainur did—and this notion was not entirely lost in the final published form of The Silmarillion. It is an attractive theory (for many reasons) to say that Tom is a sort of spirit.

The best route to take within this theory is to propose that Tom is a “nature spirit” (perhaps even a “Father Nature,” if you like). First, it makes sense that Tom would come from the Music of the Ainur—this is in accord with his inhabiting Arda from the very beginning. Second, the notion that spirits exist in nature is evident in Middle-earth: from Ents to Old Man Willow to the great prevalence of personification, nature is much more “alive” in Middle-earth than we take it to be. As noted before, Tom is starkly associated with nature and the earth. The way he lives so harmoniously with bird and beast (and how he seems to command nature in his dealings with Old Man Willow) certainly supports this theory. Additionally, we know that Tom is not concerned with the Ring (Gandalf notes that “he would not have come” to the Council of Elrond, and we noted before how remains “unallied” despite the times). He, actually, shows a total disconnect from the affairs of all other human-like beings; he is, rather, concerned only with the natural world. Tom’s neutrality greatly parallels the neutrality that we prescribe to nature. Since we, as fans, do accept the existence and the role of Ents such as Treebeard, I believe making the jump from a natural “spirit of nature” to a man embodying the “spirit of nature” is not so difficult nor controversial. Yet still, we must ask ourselves why, then, does the Ring not affect Tom, when it can certainly affect other aspects of the natural order?

An Incarnation of the Music of Ainur?

This theory is rather unique, and more recently developed than the others. Basically, we know that of all the above theories, only the notion that Tom is a “nature spirit” is relatively sound; branching from that theory, a fan known only as “Ranger from the North” developed a theory in which he posits Tom is “the incarnated spirit of the Music of the Ainur.” The “Ranger” notes two flaws with the basic “nature spirit” argument: first, Tom is not most closely associated with nature (he, personally, shows this discord by fighting against Old Man Willow and the darkness of the Forest); second, Tom is, however, associated with song and music throughout (the way in which he fights nature, for example, is with song). So, it is agreed upon by many (and I am of the same opinion) that Tom is, in fact, a spirit (an incarnate/embodiment) of sorts (i.e. that he has some relation to the Music). The question now becomes whether or not you believe he is more closely related to nature or to the Music itself.

“Ranger from the North” makes a stellar case for the latter. First, he works with the evidence from the “nature spirit” theory, showing how entirely probable the existence of other, extraneous spirits/beings is in Tolkien’s cosmology. Second, he shows how Arda itself is not the incarnation of the Music, distinguishing Middle-earth from the means by which it was created. Then, the “Ranger” makes a very clever comparison between Ungoliant and Bombadil: he notes how, since Ungoliant exists in many ways as an incarnation of the discord of the Music, she parallels Tom; these two are, he says, antitheses, and should be considered in the same way. Just as Ungoliant embodies the evil and darkness with which she was made, so too does Tom embody the light and happiness of the source of his creation. The “Ranger,” additionally, notes a detail of paramount importance: Tom’s name is not all it appears. Certainly, we hear “Tom” and think of our odd uncle or younger brother—yet such is not the case, says the “Ranger.” He notes the story of the great gong Tombo in the Unfinished Tales—coincidence that “t-o-m-b-o” are the first six letters of Tom Bombadil? Is it also coincidental that we find yet another association between Tom and music here? I think not.

The “Ranger from the North” has written extensively on his theory, and I seek not to describe all of his arguments. If you would like a much more detailed and thorough examination of the Music of the Ainur theory, I highly recommend reading what the “Ranger” himself has written here: http://www.whoistombombadil.blogspot.com/

So, we have reached the end of our journey through the “Bombadil Problem.” We have examined the arguments, waded through confusion, sorted out messes, and procured evidence. It is, in my opinion, certain that we must continue to think of Tom as unique, that we must give credit to the enigma that he (intentionally) is. The true “Master” here is perhaps the Professor himself: the truly contradictory nature of this enigma—his simplicity in character and simultaneous complexity in literature—was well crafted. The mystery of Tom reaches far back into the deeps of Tolkien’s mythology, and roots may be found stretching back to the Professor’s first tales of Faerie. While the “riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma” that we call Tom Bombadil will continue to challenge us, so too will it excite us. For through continued debate and discussion, we return time and again to the tales and stories we hold so dear, pouring of pages for hours, scouring word-by-word for some secret hint, trying to piece the puzzle back together. We know that the mystery about Tom was intentionally crafted, and that the Professor may have taken the truth about this character and his own motives in designing him to the grave, yet our drive to uncover more about this most enigmatic of beings is not diminished—why? Perhaps it is precisely because of Tom’s nature that we are fascinated by him: in a Middle-earth so divided by light and dark, good and evil (i.e. clear answers to the “who” and “what”), Tom exists as an uncommitted, uncategorized blank slate. He is the one being so open to interpretation, so predisposed to our imagination, so designed for our wondering. It is not surprising that we love Tom so much, that we pursue this debate so tirelessly, because we each craft our very own Tom Bombadil in our minds—and it is the Professor who intentionally left Tom open to such interpretation. Perhaps we can accept that Tom is simply a mystery—though, no doubt, we will continue discussing and searching for the “truth.”

All references to the text from:

The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien, single-volume edition, Houghton Mifflin (HarperCollins), 2001 (1994 edition of the text)

More information about Tom Bombadil, as well as links to other arguments, can be found below:

1)      http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Tom_Bombadil/Nature

2)      http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/t/tombombadil.html

Spider named Cetenus monaghani after Dominic Monaghan.

Dr. Peter Jäger, expert consultant to the nature television show “Wild Things with Dominic Monaghan,” discovered a new spider and named it after “Lord of the Rings” actor Monaghan. As most readers of TORn will already know, Monaghan was Merry in Peter Jackson’s adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s novel and also stars on the TV show Jäger is a consultant for (Monaghan was also narrator for our very own documentary feature RINGERS: Lord of the Fans). In a story reported by Science 2.0, the scientist explains his naming choice:

“He places nature in the foreground in a very special manner,” says Jäger, when explaining the dedication of the new spider species. The spider expert also appeared in front of the camera with the actor in a river cave when Monaghan got to meet his eight-legged namesake in its natural habitat.

As the scientist who discovered the creature, he is given the honor of naming it and he gave Monaghan the honor of lending his last name to its official scientific denotation (you’ll remember this ‘binomial nomenclature’ from your High School Science class), Ctenus monaghani, with Ctenus as the species genus with monaghani denoting Monaghan’s passion for species that may be less popular among humans. Thanks to spy Fritzi-M for bringing this to our attention.

The official citation provided by the story:

Citation: JÄGER, P. (2013) Ctenus monaghani spec. nov., a nocturnal hunter from the forest floor in Laos (Araneae: Ctenidae) — Zootaxa 3670 (1): 091–093 dx.doi.org/10.11646/zootaxa.3670.1

Discover more about Dom’s show on the official BBC America site here!

The House That Bilbo Built: Tolkien’s Literary Legacy
by Clifford “Quickbeam” Broadway

Fans of J.R.R. Tolkien have a distinctly creative way of expressing what they like; and perhaps that is the very quality that makes them the greatest fandom to propagate a literary phenomenon. It has been said there’s Life within the words of a great book. The ultimate expression of that can be seen in the inspired individual who builds his Life from the words. Those are the types of fans who carry their love so strongly forward, into bookstores and cineplexes alike, that everyone gets swept up. Their friends and children inevitably receive the books from them when the time comes; each parent, with a knowing smile, handing the key to Middle-earth to their young ones. I sometimes wonder what Professor Tolkien would think of ‘The House That Bilbo Built:’ a wave of cultural influence and entertainment begotten by the high romantic world he invented, along with so many original languages and alphabets, such a long time ago.

Talk about longevity! THE HOBBIT just celebrated its 75th anniversary. First published in 1937, well before the first volume of THE LORD OF THE RINGS came out (1954), the whimsical adventure of the diminutive Bilbo Baggins stands as a giant among 20th century fiction. Certainly few other books sustain the same revolving fandom over decades. I don’t believe in the least that TWILIGHT or THE HUNGER GAMES will have this measure of adoration in 75 years (but POTTER damn well might). Don’t underestimate how beloved and emulated Tolkien’s books are to a surprisingly different quilt of nations, regions, and times. The world’s appetite for Tolkien’s uniquely rich fantasy storytelling caused the actual “Fantasy” section to appear in bookstores; a niche market broadened tremendously, a statement was made to the publishing industry, and there was certainly no going back. Elves, Hobbits, Wizards, Goblins and Dragons were here to stay.

So much of my own creative life has sprung from my love of Tolkien and willingly have I swam the subculture that embraces his work. Ringer fans are counted among the best of friends and talents I’ve had the pleasure to meet. They never cease to surprise me in their endless originality. Interviewing them for our documentary, RINGERS: LORD OF THE FANS got me really up-close; and I take joy in exploring this never-ceasing question: why are these readers so deeply connected to Bilbo’s and Frodo’s story? Why does this phenomenon keep expressing itself in the desire for cosplay, spontaneous music, academic symposiums, boisterous conventions, movie adaptations, and profuse indulgence in second breakfasts? I keep asking through all my interviews and meetings and moots; yet the answer is mercurial.

And what humble, delicate beginnings for a behemoth like THE LORD OF THE RINGS! Let’s take a look at Tolkien’s remarkable publishing history, and thence pop cultural history, because it almost didn’t happen, for many reasons.

Tolkien started off developing the languages, and the foundational cosmological basis for his “secondary world,” while he was still a youngling in college, earning a degree in English Language & Literature. Then World War I arrived with death and disruption. Tolkien survived unwounded but his friends did not – he was medically discharged himself with trench fever. While on sick-leave in 1917 his wife Edith assisted him with hand-copying one of his earliest tales: “The Fall of Gondolin,” a fictional wandering that would ultimately become part of THE SILMARILLION (in fact, much of the content of THE SIL was created in Tolkien’s earlier years).

He was to become an Oxford philologist, dedicating his scholarly life to the study of languages. What better way to explore them than inventing your own! There’s a term for it: glossopoeia. As explained by TORn staff contributor Ostadan: “The word glossopoeia is a coinage derived from Greek, meaning ‘the making of tongues.’ As Tolkien explains, the creation of languages offers both intellectual and aesthetic satisfaction, but at the time he wrote, there were few such creations known to the public.”

By 1917 he was on his way to inventing Quenya and Sindarin – Elvish languages yet to be uttered by Orlando Bloom. Tolkien toyed with bits of poetry and his own slant on languages that he fancied (Finnish, Old Norse, Welsh), an effort which, oh-so-gradually over forty years, became an entire universe. He was also intent on creating a new mythology for England, which he felt lacked its own panorama of deities and “epicness” as Norway did. So THE HOBBIT was begun somewhere around 1930-31 (Tolkien recalls scribbling on a blank sheet of paper while marking examination papers, ‘In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit’).

In 1936 Sir Stanley Unwin of Allen & Unwin Publishers got his 10-year-old son Rayner on board as the first ‘early reviewer,’ believing a child was the best judge of children’s fiction. Rayner loved it and wrote a glowing report, describing it as ‘very exciting.’ So THE HOBBIT launched in September 1937, to considerable acclaim and boffo sales.

Sir Stanley quickly asked for a sequel; and the Professor sent them THE SILMARILLION, a woefully different ball of wax, with oddments of archaic manuscripts, a dense mine of data about Middle-earth’s pre-history, genealogies and somewhat biblical-style tracts that didn’t suit anyone’s taste at the publisher’s office. They wanted something with furry feet and gentle appeal.

Saying politely, “No thanks, but give us more material akin to THE HOBBIT,” they received in 1937 the first chapter Tolkien could manage – “A long expected party,” which reveled in much more hobbity sensibilities. The publishers loved what they read. But in so small an act can the hand of destiny be changed. The writing of the damn thing spiraled entirely out of control.

Tolkien felt endless pressure but wrote to Sir Stanley: “The work has escaped from my control and I have produced a monster.” This new epic was to take nearly 13 years, some say 17, during which time he held a chair at Oxford; and then, quick as you can say schnell, World War II arrived. THE LORD OF THE RINGS was finally finished in 1949. Tolkien was nigh 60 years old.

Over those years Tolkien had become quite miffed at Allen & Unwin for saying “no” to THE SILMARILLION. In 1949 he got entangled in a lengthy flirtation with Collins Publishers, hoping a new relationship would yield a home for his greatest effort.

He eventually went back to Allen & Unwin under terms of a new agreement: they would indeed publish THE LORD OF THE RINGS, even though there was a critical paper shortage during wartime. Sir Stanley did not take on THE SILMARILLION, either, another stroke against it (after Tolkien died it finally saw print in 1977, thanks to his son Christopher’s tireless efforts).

The decision to split LOTR into three volumes left the Professor rather unhappy. But he settled on the main title as THE LORD OF THE  RINGS, with sub-titles for three distinct volumes (containing two “Books” each)– THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING, THE TWO TOWERS and THE RETURN OF THE KING. He would much rather it had been THE WAR OF THE RING, which he sensed would reveal much less of the actual plot, but that didn’t stick.

It was the High Summer of 1954 – Bill Haley and His Comets would rock around the clock, just as Frodo Baggins made the scene in Volume 1 of LOTR; then Volumes 2 and 3 would arrive later in 1955.

The first wave of fandom simply ate up copies regardless of its mixed reviews. Tolkien’s good friend (and fellow Inkling) C.S. Lewis came to the books’ spirited defense, declaring famously: “Here are beauties which pierce like swords or burn like cold iron. Here is a book which will break your heart.” W.H. Auden also lauded: “No fiction I have read in the last five years has given me more joy.”

Steady sales and continued profits were nice, but when the American counterculture embraced THE LORD OF THE RINGS some ten years later it really skyrocketed. Over a few months time in 1966, THE LORD OF THE RINGS became a campus craze and books were seen everywhere through dormitory halls – even the University of Southern California Irvine Campus had a housing section renamed a lá Middle-earth. Causing admiration and titters alike (depending on your level of fandom) 1700 students to this day lounge in halls with such names as “Rivendell” or “Quenya.” The first and strongest wave of Western pop culture, the hippie movement, was staking its claim on how Tolkien was perceived and enjoyed by a broadly literate youth generation. Then there was the scandal of the “bootleg paperback version” of LOTR that were completely unauthorized (the guilty party being ACE Paperbacks) but that was resolved with the support of students/fans protesting booksellers who carried ACE and thus a new Ballentine edition was soon printed with Tolkien’s note on the back cover — much of this fuss we cover in greater detail in our documentary.

Then the Rock & Rollers picked up the books. An entire section of the RINGERS film covers that dynamic period where Tolkien unwittingly affected musicians of the time. Marc Bolan (of T-Rex) and David Bowie hit the underground “Middle-earth Club” on the seedy side of London. Connect the musical dots to Led Zeppelin; whose albums are rife with LOTR references and characters due to Robert Plant’s fertile affection for Tolkien’s books. I had a revealing chat with director Cameron Crowe who confessed: “Oh you’ve got to talk with my wife Nancy (Wilson of Heart), because she just loves it!” Then there was Geddy Lee (Rush), and nowadays we have Justin Timberlake – hardcore Ringers one and all.

Tolkien was uncomfortable with the explosion of attention. He was a tweedy Oxford don, after all, and wanted nothing to do with the drug-addled young people tramping across his rose garden and peeping into his windows while he worked. He once called them “my deplorable cultus.” After his death in 1973, and the posthumous publication of THE SILMARILLION, the wave of pop surrounding Bilbo and Frodo became a unique beast of another color.

The holiday animation company Rankin/Bass (yes, the folks who did stop-motion Rudolph and Frosty) brought us THE HOBBIT in less than 90 minutes of Japanese-produced 2D glory in 1977. Then Ralph Bakshi rotoscoped his drop-acid take on the first half of LOTR, but he never got to make his finale. Yet the fantasy explosion of the Eighties was off to a roaring start. Tolkien fueled all this, without dispute, and up sprang authors like David Eddings, Terry Brooks, Stephen R. Donaldson, and Marion Zimmer Bradley. Someone with a polyhedral die and several pages of Middle-earthy maps invented a pen & paper game that you might vaguely recall. And you can bet your Muggle face that J.K. Rowling was devouring the Professor’s books at the time, storing it all away for future inspiration.

Enter onto the 1990′s digital stage TheOneRing.net – an online fan community affectionately known as TORn – the largest, longest-running, all-volunteer web portal unique to a single fandom. As contributors to TORn, we spend our energy reporting news, presenting special panels coast-to-coast at massive Comic-Cons and Dragon*Cons, moderating forums, chat rooms, and Facebook timelines with an endless flow of fans who collide as much as confer. We produced three gobsmacking Oscar Parties just for Ringers, one event yearly for each of Peter Jackson’s sprawling films, which were attended by the trophy-bearing cast and crew. On the year of THE RETURN OF THE KING’s 11-Oscar sweep, the Kiwi filmmakers were especially eager to greet the grassroots fan audience that so avidly showed them three years of love (and repeat ticket sales). We also produced a hellzapoppin’ Oscar event for the HOBBIT: AUJ in 2013, providing a unique atmosphere for aficionados to celebrate a shared affection for Tolkien with creators from behind the camera.

Now the newest excursion into Tolkien’s legendarium is upon us with the late 2012 release of THE HOBBIT: AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY. Not to mention the attendant merchandising and collectibles now flooding the market. Jackson and his team of film artisans surmounted terrific odds to return all the familiar players to New Zealand. The anticipation has left most fans breathless; while many purists may bemoan the stretching of an episodic 280-page children’s story into 3 extra long films. The level of involvement among fans hasn’t lessened, instead reaching a new zenith by way of shared electronic media.

On our weekly live webcast aptly named “TORn Tuesday,” actors and artists ranging from Sean Astin to Peter S. Beagle join me for a merry discussion of how THE LORD OF THE RINGS has impacted their lives. They definitively illuminate how Tolkien remains so relevant. These artists have lived and breathed the magic of Middle-earth in myriad ways. Nearly 60 years later Tolkien’s masterworks have reached countless millions; and there’s a vibrant community online that supports many great events and causes, all sharing the same literary joy. I’ve never witnessed another phenomenon like it. A shared passion for the Professor’s 1200 page opus is the very liferoot of it all.

As I said, Ringer fans really do know what they like.

Much too hasty,

‘Quickbeam’

Clifford Broadway

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Clifford Broadway, longtime contributor and webhost for TheOneRing.net, is co-author of the bestseller “The People’s Guide to J.R.R. Tolkien” (2003) and co-writer/producer of the award-winning RINGERS: LORD OF THE FANS (Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, 2005).

Follow us on Twitter:

TheOneRing.net @theoneringnet

Cliff Scott Broadway @Quickbeam2000

This thing went nuts with 200,000 views in 7 hours! With a busy Facebook timeline like ours at TheOneRing.net, it is always cool to see what stands out as a favorite popular post.  Today’s image of Aragorn having a fun soliloquy about the day we STOP loving The Lord of the Rings became our most widely-seen and mega shared post of the year!

So why are fans so quickly drawn to a declarative statement like: “Other Fandoms may ebb and flow, but Tolkien fans are committed to these stories for life?” Quickbeam has pondered that very thing: and here is his article from this week, above

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We launch TORn TUESDAY every week at 5:00PM Pacific: brought to you by host Clifford “Quickbeam” Broadway and producer Justin “They Shouldn’t Have Shown Smaug” Sewell — Our innovative live show includes worldwide fans who join us on the Live Event page with a built-in IRC chat (affectionately known as Barliman’s Chat room). Be part of the fun and mischief every week as we broadcast *live* from Meltdown Comics in the heart of Hollywood, U.S.A.!

After the show has completed broadcast you can always watch the archive later at TheOneRing.net’s official YouTube channel:

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Follow Cliff ‘Quickbeam’ Broadway on Twitter: @quickbeam2000

A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to give me a Father’s Day card…

Just wishing all our readers who are Dads – or who are the sons and daughters of Dads, so basically, everyone! – a Happy Father’s Day!  Who’s your favourite father in Middle-earth?  Sam Gamgee?  Elrond?  If only Treebeard hadn’t lost the Entwives, he could have made a great Dad!  And who can forget Denethor’s impeccable parenting skills….?

Let us know your favourite parenting moments from Middle-earth in the comments.  Hope everyone has a great day!

We launch TORn TUESDAY every week at 5:00PM Pacific: brought to you by host Clifford “Quickbeam” Broadway and producer Justin “I Promised Royd I Would Read It” Sewell — we will even have special guest Larry Curtis (“MrCere” on TheOneRing.net) join us, the man who was stationed on the New Zealand sets with Peter Jackson, WETA, and all the creative forces behind the camera! Our innovative live show includes worldwide fans who join us on the Live Event page with a built-in IRC chat (affectionately known as Barliman’s Chat room). Be part of the fun and mischief every week as we broadcast *live* from Meltdown Comics in the heart of Hollywood, U.S.A.!

After the show has completed broadcast you can always watch the archive later at TheOneRing.net’s official YouTube channel:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePUq7nOnUxw

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Follow Cliff ‘Quickbeam’ Broadway on Twitter: @quickbeam2000

Join us for TORn TUESDAY every week at 5:00PM Pacific: brought to you by host Clifford “Quickbeam” Broadway and producer Justin “I Love Ham” Sewell — as we learn how this magnificent Dwarf suffered and struggled to change his family’s future — and what Peter Jackson & WETA did to help us distinguish his rough and tumble companions from each other (using more than just colored hoods). Our innovative live show includes worldwide fans who join us on the Live Event page with a built-in IRC chat (affectionately known as Barliman’s Chat room). Be part of the fun and mischief every week as we broadcast *live* from Meltdown Comics in the heart of Hollywood, U.S.A.!

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Follow Cliff ‘Quickbeam’ Broadway on Twitter: @quickbeam2000

But in the midst of these familiar images was what looked like a brand new scene of an army of orcs laying siege to a castle with very striking dragon-shaped prominences on the ramparts. Could this be something we hadn’t yet seen from The Desolation of Smaug? Were we getting a sneak peek at some flashback to Carn Dûm or Minas Ithil?

Nope. It turns out it’s a scene from the 2011 film Sucker Punch from director Zach Snyder.

Keen detective and TORn staffer Magpie matched up the images and found the scene, one of several in Sucker Punch that are overt homages to other genre films. So, alas, as TORn staffer Justin said, “These aren’t the orcs you’re looking for. Move along.”

Misleading clips aside, we’re still looking forward to Google’s “Chrome Experiment,” which will “bring Middle-earth to life in the browser with 3D Trolls, interactive musical experiences, and more.” It’s currently in beta testing to be released to the public later this year. And as for Configura Equipos… ¡Estamos vigilando!

Watch the misleading video here.

Read about Google Chrome’s “A Journey Through Middle-earth” here.

Hobson’s blog in ‘The American Spectator’ is an interesting piece, giving the subject careful thought.  She suggests that there are core differences between the two writers, both in the origins of their creations and in their perceptions of morality.  You can see what she had to say – and perhaps draw your own conclusions – here.

Join us for TORn TUESDAY every week at 5:00PM Pacific: brought to you by host Clifford “Quickbeam” Broadway and producer Justin “No Podraces in Eriador” Sewell — as we discuss the unique characteristics of each Dwarf. We shall learn how they fit into the larger history of Tolkien’s legends — and what Peter Jackson & WETA did to help us distinguish these rough and tumble travelers from each other (using more than just colored hoods). Our innovative live show includes worldwide fans who join us on the Live Event page with a built-in IRC chat (affectionately known as Barliman’s Chat room). Be part of the fun and mischief every week as we broadcast *live* from Meltdown Comics in the heart of Hollywood, U.S.A.!

NEXT WEEK:  the grand finale of our series — THORIN OAKENSHIELD!

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Follow Cliff ‘Quickbeam’ Broadway on Twitter: @quickbeam2000

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Beyond the “Edge of the Wild”

By Tedoras — special to TheOneRing.net

One of the most interesting aspects of the Map of Wilderland included in The Hobbit is that very odd, rather portentous demarcation denoting the “Edge of the Wild.” Perhaps many of us, as kids, did not really note the significance of this line: it remained, to us, an added piece of mystery and awe. Certainly, the line retains those qualities today. However, now that I am older, the real meaning of this line is clearer (and, yes, although the Professor may not have wanted us to search for any “meaning” in this line—but to take at its “face value,” rather—there is yet merit in analyzing it. It was drawn for a reason on the map, mind you). Well, perhaps it is not “meaning” for which we look in this line, but rather its purpose to us, the readers, as we follow Bilbo into the Wild.

My interest in the Edge of the Wild peaked when I discovered a fantastic article by Patrick Brückner. In “Until the Dragon Comes,” Brückner focuses on the “real” and “fantastic,” and the reader’s perception of each, in Tolkien’s works; he notes that the mythopoeic role of dragons adds a “world-view that refers to an epic historic quality far beyond and different from the fairy tale elements of [Tolkien's] texts” (Brückner 101). In the vernacular, Brückner merely posits that the concept of a dragon inherently adds realism to the text because of the historic properties we prescribe to dragons. I am not going to go on much more about archetypal dragons and their roles in mythopoeic fantasy; rather, I would like to focus on how Brückner applies this principle to uncover the true nature of the “Edge of the Wild” line.

Brückner notes, wisely, that it was Tolkien himself who, by virtue of adding this demarcation to the map, declared the point of transition from the “real” to the “fantastic” in The Hobbit. While it may seem a daunting task to argue against the Professor’s ostensible intent, Brückner provides a good case against this line being the actual point of transition. There are two reasons why this line does not mark a shift: first, because Rivendell (i.e., “the boundary of the perilous realm”) is clearly to the right of the line and, second, because the incident with the trolls occurs to the line’s left (109). Brückner’s thesis is, therefore, that we can assign the right side of the Edge of the Wild to the realistic sphere, and that we can do so because of the role of a dragon, Smaug (118). As a dragon, Brückner says, Smaug adds a “relevant epic-historical context that grounds The Hobbit“—the concept of the dragon inherently makes The Hobbit “a text that refers to older texts and traditions… that possess historical significance” (117). Thus, because Smaug exists to the right of the Edge of the Wild—and because his existence as a dragon carries with it the realistic sphere—this demarcation cannot be a point of transition from “real” to “fantastic.”

While I agree with Brückner’s conclusion, I cannot say it is only the dragon that adds realism to the story. Just as Smaug brings with him the “epic-historical” notions of dragons which ground him in the “real” sphere (think of dragons throughout Western literature, from Beowulf on), so too do the other “mythological” creatures in the text. Because of our now long exposure to Orcs, Elves, Wargs, and other rather fantastical inhabitants of Middle-earth, we attribute to them, too, the very same historical context as Brückner says we do to Smaug. One of the reasons we attribute such realism to the dragon is, as Brückner notes, that it references other texts. Well, with the wealth of literature written by Tolkien himself or about his works, the same references are possible with Orcs or any other creature. To fans of Tolkien’s works, Orcs and Dwarves are as “real” as Smaug; we simply use Tolkien’s legendarium as the historiographic source. Thus, to a fan to whom the question of Smaug’s existence is not an issue, neither is the assumption that the other ostensibly “fantastic” creatures to the right of the Edge of the Wild are actually real. It is, in my opinion, the collective picture painted by the inclusion of all these now familiar “fantastic” aspects (to which we ourselves assign historic—albeit not explicitly “real” historic—weight), that result in our placing the right side of the line in the sphere of realism.

The most common sense case can be made for a demarcation placed East of Rivendell. The Misty Mountains mark the Western border of Rhovanion (Wilderland), so in that sense, such a line would really be the Edge of the Wild. However, that is of course not the case. So why, then, is the line placed where it is? The best scenario would be to ask the Professor himself (certainly this is one of those rather puzzling Middle-earth conundrums). Yet, I think I can fathom a guess, or at least one hypothesis. If you look at the Map of Wilderland, you’ll note that to the left of the demarcation, at the top, is written “Western Lands”, with an arrow naturally pointing West. If we hold Tolkien’s views on direction as canonical, then it makes sense for the East to be characterized as the “wild”, and altogether less fair than the West. Looking at a map of Eriador, such a conclusion seems plausible for, certainly, Wilderland lies far to the East.

Though simple, such a hypothesis is sound; anyone familiar with Middle-earth knows that to the East lies danger. And the aforementioned simplicity is also key. When deciding to draw this now infamous line, Tolkien would probably not have been debating the convoluted significance of such an action—rather, he would have been thinking of geography, as any cartographer is wont to do. Unfortunately, we may never know.

(All references to the text from: Brückner, Patrick. ” ‘…Until the Dragon Comes’: Tolkien’s Dragon-Motif as a Poetological Concept.” Tolkien’s Shorter Works: Essays of the Jena Conference 2007 (2008): 101-35. Walking Tree Publishers. Print.)

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The (Biblical) Beacons of Gondor

By Tedoras — special to TheOneRing.net

This past April 28th happened to be the Jewish holiday of Lag B’Omer (the 33rd day of the Counting of the Sheaves, to be more precise). Now, you are probably wondering how this little-known holiday relates to The Lord of the Rings (and, if you’re like me, you’d like to know what a “sheaf” is, too). It turns out a sheaf is a bundle for cereal plants—fortunately for us all, though, my story has nothing to do with Biblical agriculture. Rather, it begins with The Return of the King.

If you are like me, you love those amazing fly-by shots from The Lord of the Rings films. One of the most epic sequences of such shots is the lighting of the beacons in ROTK (refresh your memory here). Whether your first encounter with these mountaintop fires was in literature or film, you probably thought it was an ingenious mode of communication. Certainly, they are by far the best means for sending urgent messages across long distances (and I hope the Gondorian who urged their construction was handsomely rewarded). In order to see the connection between these beacons and the aforementioned holiday, it is important to know the story of Lag B’Omer.

In short, Lag B’Omer commemorates a revolt in the year 131 CE. The Israelites, under the leadership of Bar Kochba, rose up against the Romans, who ruled the land at that time. Years before the Romans came, the Israelites had built a series of m’durot, or bonfires, upon the surrounding mountains. So, when the revolt began, (you guessed it) Bar Kochba ordered a beacon lit. A soldier took a torch to the top of a mountain, lit one the beacons, and thus sent word around the land that war had begun.

Certainly, the use of the beacons of Gondor to call for Rohan’s aid is reminiscent of this episode. Yet, was Tolkien inspired by this Biblical tale in his creation of the beacons? On the one hand, we know Tolkien was well-versed in the Bible; his contemporaneous English education saw to that. Furthermore, Tolkien was a lifelong scholar—thus, if not in school, it is likely he would have encountered this story on his own. Assuming Tolkien was acquainted with this tale, the unanswerable question here, of course, is whether or not he consciously recognized the Bible as their source.

However, on the other hand, a case can certainly be made that Tolkien knew not of the story of Bar Kochba’s revolt. For a realm the size of Gondor, it would make sense to have a system for mass-communication in the event of any important occurrence. And, while these beacons also housed fresh horses on stand-by for couriers, it is clear that signal fires would be a much faster means. The independent invention of the beacons is not only possible in terms of the technology available to Gondor at the time, but it is also becoming of the prudence and wisdom of the Gondorian kings of Old.

This is one of many familiar situations to us Tolkien fans: is there a “right” answer here? Personally, I do not think it really matters; I intended only to present a surprising and uncanny resemblance upon which I happened to stumble. But, of course, such a topic is up for interpretation—so I will let you decide for yourself.