Is the barrow-wight the creepiest of Tolkien's creations?
 

This was inspired by the thread about the scariest of Tolkien's creations. I always thought that the barrow-wight, while not the scariest, was certainly among the creepiest of Tolkien's creations. While the others might kill you, or torture then kill you, would they take your clothes off and put on a white robe?:eek:

Yes, there is something very unsound about that groping arm in the dark too, isn't it? Brrr..

Did someone say, 'gaudy gold chains?' :D

In order to get rid of him, do I HAVE to sing a Bombadil song?

...."A Elbereth Gilthoniel" just won't do?

Speaking of singing and wights, I'd like to bore you for a few moments with an excerpt from my 'Monty Python's Fellowship of the Ring' parody. No wights were actually harmed in the making of this satire:

When Frodo awoke, he found himself lying on a cold stone slab. There was a stabbing pain in his arm where the invisible hand had clawed him, but he still managed to struggle upward to lean upon his elbows. Looking about him through the darkness, he knew all too well where he was: a cruel wight had dragged him down into a barrow! Well, isn't this just friggin' wonderful! he thought to himself. But as his eyes became accustomed to the dimness (characters in fantasies can somehow always see underground in the pitch black), he noticed that Sam, Merry and Pippin were laying unconscious to his right. They each lay on a slab, and they were robed in white satin nighties (where the Moody Blues perhaps got the song title "Wights in Night Satin'). Their hands were adorned with bejeweled rings, their heads were crowned in diadems and a sword lay at each of their feet.

From a vestibule or hallway to his left there rose a faint green emanation, a phosphorescent glow straight out of any 1950's B-grade Hollywood horror flick, which was still quite frightening to Frodo as the cinema had not arrived in the Shire as of yet. He heard bones rattling and skeletons scratching as they dragged their white knuckles across the stone floor towards him.

"What skullduggery is this?" Frodo hissed in a barely audible whisper.

Suddenly the rattling and scratching, crawling and scrawling began falling into a cadence, then the cadence into a regular rhythm, and the rhythm thrummed with a beat: scrawl-crawl-scratch-scratch-rattle-rattle-scratch, scrawl-crawl-scratch-scratch-rattle-rattle-scratch, scrawl-crawl-scratch-scratch-rattle-rattle-scratch, and an eerie, mournful voice began to sing in a low moan to the bony beat:

There's a saying going 'round and I begin to think it's true,
It's awful hard to love someone, when they're rotting through and through.
Once I had a lovin' ghoul, but now I start to wonder,
Why I'm sad and lonely, cos' she's buried me six feet under.

Won't somebody go and find my ghoul and bring her to me?
It's awful hard to decompose without a little sympathy.
Once I had a loving ghoul, as good as any on the Downs,
but since my deadhead left me, I'm the saddest wight around -

Because…

From another room of the barrow came faint echoes of music that rapidly rose in timbre and tone until Frodo could make out an entire netherwordly ensemble – a hamstring quartet, perhaps, or an entire Orcestra: there were trombones and organs, tympanis and eardrums, nose flutes and jaw harps, not to mention the hairy bagpipes, all playing ragtime. And the ghostly voice belted out a banshee wail:

I'm just a bag 'o' bones and everywhere I go,
Cadavers are the part I'm playing.
Paid for every bone dance, risen up by necromance -
Ooh, what they're saying!

There will come a day when youth will pass away,
What will they say about me?
When the end comes I know,
they'll say, "He was just a bag 'o' bones"-
Life goes on without me…

And then, to Frodo's surprise, a chorus line of skeletons burst into the room with arm bones locked together and kicking in unison so high he could see their metatarsals and phalanxes flailing in the air. And they were all singing with jawbones flapping out of time with the lyrics:

Cos' I aint got NO BODY!
No body cares for me, no body, no body cares for me!
I'm so cold and stony - cold and stony, cold and stony -
Won't some grave ghoul come take a chance with me…

But before the skeletons could utter another refrain - BOOM! There was a tremendous explosion and the roof of the barrow came crashing down. Frodo could see daylight streaming in from behind a monstrous beaver tail. Astride the giant beaver was none other than Tom Bombadil, who waved at Frodo and shouted, "That racket was loud enough to wake the dead, if you'll pardon the pun!"

And with one final bluesy note from a hidden sax, the wightish skeletons fell into crumpled heaps of bone and dust.

Actually I did find the Barrow wight very scary when I first read LOTR but I was very young and since you put it like that I see that it may also have tallied with a preexisting terror of doctors - the result of being used for medical research as a toddler. It also may have influenced more positively another literary fascination since I wrote my dissertation on the horror stories of Guy de Maupassant and the first of those I ever read was about a severed hand. Yes deeply creepy.

Probably...but I found Gollum in The Hobbit to be pretty creepy too O.O
But the Two Watchers beat all.

You mean in Kirith Ungol.... ? Yes but I only really got to them on the second attempt... !

Hiding in Tom's bedroom
 

What confirmed me in my opinion of the Barrow-wight's creepiness was the fact that he broke into Tom Bombadil's house and hid in the bedroom, to await the latter's arrival:

Dark came under Hill. Tom, he lit a candle;
upstairs creaking went, turned the door-handle.
'Hoo, Tom Bombadil! Look what night has brought you!
I'm here behind the door. Now at last I've caught you!
You'd forgotten Barrow-wight dwelling in the old mound
up there on hill-top with the ring of stones round.
He's got loose again. Under earth he'll take you.
Poor Tom Bombadil, pale and cold he'll make you!'

Quite the stalker. :eek:

What do people think?;)

A convincing case. You know where you are with Sauron: he wants to enslave you and everyone else. But what does the Wight want from you? White robes, groping arms, hiding in your house, starting websites, it's all a bit much.

Maybe though under Middle Earth legislation, Wights have a statutory right of entry to your home? Like the gas board.. of course normal rules seem not to apply to Bombadil...