The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - LotR -- Book 1 - Chapter 11

Aiwendil · 08-30-2004, 12:26 PM

The pace quickens as we near the end of Book I. After two chapters spent at the Prancing Pony, this one takes us as far as Weathertop - halfway to Rivendell. And there is more to the chapter than just the journey: there is the attack at Crickhollow, the business to be settled in Bree, and of course the attack on Weathertop.

The cut to Crickhollow is momentarily disorienting to the reader. It is, after all, the first time since chapter 1 that we have a scene not involving our main Hobbits. The real function of the scene is of course to tell us that the Black Riders have found out the pretense of Frodo's living at Crickhollow - this knowledge naturally heightens the sense of danger we feel for the Hobbits.

Frodo seems almost to respond to the events in Buckland - he wakes from a deep sleep (as per the alarm of the Bucklanders - AWAKE! AWAKE!). He dreams then of wind and hoofs and even hears a horn-call - though it turns out to be a cock crowing in Bree. Again, the danger is heightened when it is found that the decoys have been slashed. All this makes the following events - the negotiation of a bargain for Bill Ferny's horse, the journey through the marshes, and the approach to Weathertop - more engaging than they would otherwise have been. Without the setup, the sense of danger and suspense would not be so great.

Strider takes the Hobbits on their third shortcut. The first spared them an encounter with a Black Rider and led them to Maggot - altogether a success. The second led them into a great deal of trouble - the Old Forest, the Barrow-downs - but also led them to Bombadil. Again, they evaded the Black Riders. But we all know the rule of three - twice establishes a pattern; thrice breaks it. So it is with the three little pigs and so it is with the shortcuts. This time they cannot evade the Nazgul.

The actual attack by the Nazgul is actually rather short - just about one page. But that one page does far more than Jackson can do with his action set piece. Just as, within the story, it is the fear caused by the Nazgul that is their chief weapon, so the chief technique Tolkien uses to engage the reader in this incident (as throughout Book I) is tension rather than action. The key to the scene is not the physical attack that comes in the very last paragraph; it is the slow approach of the Nazgul, the perception of them as a very powerful danger, the suspense that results from the certainty that there must eventually be a confrontation. Tolkien builds that suspense to the breaking point, only to ease off a little and save the real confrontation for the final chapter of Book I.

We have also in this chapter Aragorn's song of Beren and Luthien - in my opinion, one of Tolkien's finest bits of verse. The rhyme scheme is not too complex, but quite effective: ABACBABC. The first C line of each stanza always feels just slightly unexpected, as if we assume it will rhyme with B - then not only does it fail to rhyme, it also ends with two unstressed syllables instead of a single stressed one. The result is a sort of unresolved, trailing off feeling that pulls us along to the end of the stanza, where finally sense is made of the C line.

This poem brings up an interesting point. It is often remarked that a large part of the appeal of LotR lies in its sense of depth - the sense that there is a real history, filled with stories, that leads up to the present action. And of course there really is a history that lies before LotR - the Silmarillion. It's also been said (even by Tolkien) that LotR became more of a sequel to the Silmarillion than to The Hobbit. But just how many references to the Quenta Silmarillion itself are there? Not as many as you might think. Aragorn's talk of Beren and Luthien is probably the biggest reference. But even here, we are told only about a single incident in the story of Beren and Luthien - their meeting. Elsewhere there is a reference to Ancalagon; mention is made of Hador and Turin; there is Bilbo's poem about Earendil; there is the Balrog; Thangorodrim is mentioned. But most of these are just superficial references. The important events of the Silmarillion are not discussed at all. Even in the two big history chapters - I-2 and II-2 - nothing substantive is said about the First Age. The history that lies behind LotR, and that is alluded to in LotR, is for the most part not the Quenta Silmarillion of the First Age but rather the events of the Second Age and the Third Age. The Fall of Gil-Galad, Aragorn's kingship, the Rings, the Barrow-downs - all of the history that really matters to LotR comes from the Second and Third Ages.

This is interesting because, whereas the tales of the First Age were already very much in existence (and had been rewritten four or more times already), the history of the Second and Third Ages did not actually predate the writing of LotR very much, if at all. The story of Numenor had only been conceived in the 1930s. The history of Gondor and Arnor, and of the Rings, did not exist at all until LotR. So, when Tolkien came to develop the sequel to The Hobbit into a real epic, rather than drawing inspiration from the writings he had spent so much time on over the past twenty-five years, he more or less built things from the ground up. He connected LotR with the Silmarillion, to be sure, but the connection was a distant one, with two whole ages in between. LotR is more a sequel to the Akallebeth than it is to the Silmarillion.

Sorry if it sounds like I'm rambling - these are thoughts forming as I'm writing. What I wonder is - 1. Why is there so little of the Silmarillion itself in LotR? and 2. What does this say about the bits of the Silmarillion that do make it into LotR - Aragorn's poem for instance?

08-30-2004, 12:26 PM	#5
Aiwendil Late Istar Join Date: Mar 2001 Posts: 2,224	The pace quickens as we near the end of Book I. After two chapters spent at the Prancing Pony, this one takes us as far as Weathertop - halfway to Rivendell. And there is more to the chapter than just the journey: there is the attack at Crickhollow, the business to be settled in Bree, and of course the attack on Weathertop. The cut to Crickhollow is momentarily disorienting to the reader. It is, after all, the first time since chapter 1 that we have a scene not involving our main Hobbits. The real function of the scene is of course to tell us that the Black Riders have found out the pretense of Frodo's living at Crickhollow - this knowledge naturally heightens the sense of danger we feel for the Hobbits. Frodo seems almost to respond to the events in Buckland - he wakes from a deep sleep (as per the alarm of the Bucklanders - AWAKE! AWAKE!). He dreams then of wind and hoofs and even hears a horn-call - though it turns out to be a cock crowing in Bree. Again, the danger is heightened when it is found that the decoys have been slashed. All this makes the following events - the negotiation of a bargain for Bill Ferny's horse, the journey through the marshes, and the approach to Weathertop - more engaging than they would otherwise have been. Without the setup, the sense of danger and suspense would not be so great. Strider takes the Hobbits on their third shortcut. The first spared them an encounter with a Black Rider and led them to Maggot - altogether a success. The second led them into a great deal of trouble - the Old Forest, the Barrow-downs - but also led them to Bombadil. Again, they evaded the Black Riders. But we all know the rule of three - twice establishes a pattern; thrice breaks it. So it is with the three little pigs and so it is with the shortcuts. This time they cannot evade the Nazgul. The actual attack by the Nazgul is actually rather short - just about one page. But that one page does far more than Jackson can do with his action set piece. Just as, within the story, it is the fear caused by the Nazgul that is their chief weapon, so the chief technique Tolkien uses to engage the reader in this incident (as throughout Book I) is tension rather than action. The key to the scene is not the physical attack that comes in the very last paragraph; it is the slow approach of the Nazgul, the perception of them as a very powerful danger, the suspense that results from the certainty that there must eventually be a confrontation. Tolkien builds that suspense to the breaking point, only to ease off a little and save the real confrontation for the final chapter of Book I. We have also in this chapter Aragorn's song of Beren and Luthien - in my opinion, one of Tolkien's finest bits of verse. The rhyme scheme is not too complex, but quite effective: ABACBABC. The first C line of each stanza always feels just slightly unexpected, as if we assume it will rhyme with B - then not only does it fail to rhyme, it also ends with two unstressed syllables instead of a single stressed one. The result is a sort of unresolved, trailing off feeling that pulls us along to the end of the stanza, where finally sense is made of the C line. This poem brings up an interesting point. It is often remarked that a large part of the appeal of LotR lies in its sense of depth - the sense that there is a real history, filled with stories, that leads up to the present action. And of course there really is a history that lies before LotR - the Silmarillion. It's also been said (even by Tolkien) that LotR became more of a sequel to the Silmarillion than to The Hobbit. But just how many references to the Quenta Silmarillion itself are there? Not as many as you might think. Aragorn's talk of Beren and Luthien is probably the biggest reference. But even here, we are told only about a single incident in the story of Beren and Luthien - their meeting. Elsewhere there is a reference to Ancalagon; mention is made of Hador and Turin; there is Bilbo's poem about Earendil; there is the Balrog; Thangorodrim is mentioned. But most of these are just superficial references. The important events of the Silmarillion are not discussed at all. Even in the two big history chapters - I-2 and II-2 - nothing substantive is said about the First Age. The history that lies behind LotR, and that is alluded to in LotR, is for the most part not the Quenta Silmarillion of the First Age but rather the events of the Second Age and the Third Age. The Fall of Gil-Galad, Aragorn's kingship, the Rings, the Barrow-downs - all of the history that really matters to LotR comes from the Second and Third Ages. This is interesting because, whereas the tales of the First Age were already very much in existence (and had been rewritten four or more times already), the history of the Second and Third Ages did not actually predate the writing of LotR very much, if at all. The story of Numenor had only been conceived in the 1930s. The history of Gondor and Arnor, and of the Rings, did not exist at all until LotR. So, when Tolkien came to develop the sequel to The Hobbit into a real epic, rather than drawing inspiration from the writings he had spent so much time on over the past twenty-five years, he more or less built things from the ground up. He connected LotR with the Silmarillion, to be sure, but the connection was a distant one, with two whole ages in between. LotR is more a sequel to the Akallebeth than it is to the Silmarillion. Sorry if it sounds like I'm rambling - these are thoughts forming as I'm writing. What I wonder is - 1. Why is there so little of the Silmarillion itself in LotR? and 2. What does this say about the bits of the Silmarillion that do make it into LotR - Aragorn's poem for instance?