LotR -- Book 1 - Chapter 01 - A Long-Expected Party

[Fingolfin II]

I was born in England and came to Australia when I was 15, that was 32 years ago, which makes me 21, that'll save you overworking your calculator. I can relate very much to the English countryside that Tolkien plans his Shire in, but there are also places where I live that could be a good backdrop for the Shire as well. Had I first read LotR in Australia I think that I could have still related a place in OZ to the Shire.......

Interesting, Arkenstone (Post #29). I was born in Tasmania and moved to Victoria about 9 years ago and I think I can relate Tasmania to the Shire quite easily. For one thing, it is a very 'green' place full of trees and hills that look exactly like the ones shown in the movies and it's inhabitants are a very close and tight-knit community. They share common ground in many areas and know everyone in the neighbourhood and are just overall, friendly and jolly people, like the hobbits are in the Shire.

Saucepan Man said-

It is crucial that we trust Gandalf's instincts at this point and, to my mind, Tolkien handles it very well.

There are a lot of things discussed here that I didn't pick up before, such as this point and Fordim's foreshadowing idea. Gandalf is described as a kindly and sensible character from the outset of the novel (and his character is even more pronounced if you've read The Hobbit), and his reasoning and resolution to Bilbo's uncharacteristic behaviour is a good way of setting up for the next chapters. I agree that Tolkien managed this very well through Bilbo's Gollum-like behaviour and that Gandalf's 'instincts' and his resort to a shock tactic on Bilbo in order for him to willingly let go of the Ring is well counter-balanced by his kind reasoning and friendly, yet firm, persuasions, so that Gandalf isn't taken as someone who uses intimidation as a means to get what he wants (like Saruman)-

'Now, now my dear hobbit!' said Gandalf. 'All your long life we have been friends, and you owe me something. Come! Do as you promised: give it up!'

Then Gandalf's tone changes and he becomes angry at what is a personal accusation of wanting the Ring for himself.

Gandalf's eyes flashed. 'It will be my turn to get angry soon,' he said. If you say that again, I shall. Then you will see Gandalf the Grey uncloaked.'
He took a step towards the hobbit, and he seemed to grow tall and menacing; his shadow filled the little room.

I agree, SpM, that Tolkien does well with this scene, as we see that even thought Gandalf's angry with Bilbo it is because he is accused of wanting the Ring for himself and it is made clear that he doesn't. This is a very important passage, as it also begins to show what effect the Ring has on it's bearers (i.e. the 'Gollum-like' behaviour of Bilbo), which is a subtle, yet tantalising, hint of events to come.

[Nurumaiel]

Bah, humbug! Late, late. I'm still working my way through Chapter I, which means I'm four chapters behind everyone else. As our dear Mr. Bilbo Baggins would say: 'Time!' A sorry lack of it. Now, I've jotted down all my confused musings on various passages from the books, organized them, rethought them, and now I post them. In this post I am mainly concentrating on the contrast between young hobbits and old hobbits, and the different curiosities of hobbits, and etc.

The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly believe, whatever the old folk might say, that the Hill at Bag End was full of tunnels stuffed with treasure.

The reference to the thoughts and feelings of the old folk on such subjects seems to be clearly justified in the interactions between some characters in The Ivy Bush. They open by shamelessly gossiping about the Bagginses, saying whatever they fancy saying, be it lies or not, and then they get to the subject of 'jools.'

'All the top of your hill is full of tunnels packed with chests of gold and silver?'

So says the stranger of Michel Delving. (I wonder how old he was, for he seemed to quite fancy the idea of there being gold and silver within Bag End.) The Gaffer sensibly denies that there is any treasure in Bag End save that which Mr. Bilbo brought back from his travels, which certainly isn't enough to pack tunnels. The Gaffer is one of the older folk; I can see the stranger from Michel Delving (imagining for a moment that he is a younger hobbit) devotedly retaining in his mind the belief that Bag End is full of tunnels stuffed with gold:

But the Gaffer did not convince his audience. The legend of Bilbo's wealth was now too firmly fixed in the minds of the younger generation of hobbits.

And then when the Gaffer goes on to talk about Sam I get the impression that that young lad wouldn't be too unwilling to be convinced that there were tunnels stuffed with treasure.

Why must the older generation take the more sensible view? Sam, to the very last, retained an image that was like a child's: an image full of elusiveness, wanting to imagine everything as being more mystical and wonderful as it is. Sam was always so thoroughly childish (in that sense; he was rarely [if ever] immature), and this is one of the reasons I enjoy his character so much. He never lost his fascination for Elves and Dragons.

Now what strikes me as curious is that Sandyman, who would most likely be of the older generation, seems to lean towards the side of the youngsters, and wants to persist that Mr. Bilbo does have tunnels stuffed with treasure ('adding to what he brought at first,' he says). This intrigued me. Would it be because Sandyman has a contrary nature and would take the opposite side of the Gaffer just to oppose him, or did it occur to anyone else as it occurred to me that much of Sandyman's behavior comes from not so much plain wickedness as from immaturity, and that this immaturity might also show in aspects other than his attitude? Just a thought?

Practically everyone living near was invited. A very few were overlooked by accident, but as they turned up all the same, that did not matter.

A presuming lot, aren't they?

Now during the party it says 'there was a splendid supper for everyone; for everyone, that is, except those invited to the special family dinner-party.' Considering the fondness hobbits have for food, mightn't those invited to the special dinner-party feel a little envious that they couldn't be partaking of the splendid supper, that they would have to wait? Or do you suppose that they were content with thinking of what awaited them at a later date?

?but so magnificent was the invitation card, written in golden ink, that they had felt it was impossible to refuse.

Why should Otho and Lobelia attend a party held by and for two hobbits they disliked and detested merely because the invitation was magnificent? I find this terribly amusing, and I attribute to the fact that they are hobbits. Golden ink! The invitation was impressive enough to accept, even if the party would no doubt be detestable. Of course, the ultimate reason for their going seems to be the fact that Bilbo's table has a high reputation.

Some perfunctory clapping by the elders; and some loud shouts of 'Frodo! Frodo! Jolly old Frodo,' from the juniors.

The elders do not seem to be very excited about Frodo's coming of age. This seems to apply to us as well. The adults will clap for the occasion that requires clapping, even if they don't feel any particular enthusiasm for the event. It might be discourteous if one didn't clap. The youngsters, on the other hand, are very excited about it, which is natural. Frodo is more than likely a constant companion of his, and they know him well. It is characteristic to feel more excited about a big event in the life of someone you know well. The adults probably did not know him that well. The only thing that puzzles (and shocks) me is that the clapping of the adults was described as 'perfunctory.' They didn't show the least concern for the matter, and their applause was indifferent. I wonder why they didn't applause 'courteously' instead?

?more food and drink were needed to cure the guests of shock and annoyance.

Naturally. Why, I doubt if the hobbits ever made any sort of medicine from herbs, etc. All they needed to cure them was food. Who knows how many imaginary diseases they created for themselves so they could delight in indulging themselves in that all-powerful medicine of theirs: food. The average hobbit's life seems to be centered around food. They're like moths drawn to a candle when it comes to food. My first thought while reading this was: 'They're mad!' Bilbo, mad? I suppose they would have considered it more sane if he had jumped into a giant cake and disappeared. At least it would have involved food, eh?

?[they] evicted three young hobbits who were knocking holes in the walls of one of the cellars.

The fascination of youngsters. They are so hopeful of finding the treasure, they so firmly believe that their imaginings are true that they are more than willing to knock holes in the walls to find it, hidden away in some secret passage. It's a pity to consider that, when they're older, they will more than likely become like all the other hobbits and abandon all their fancies. Thank goodness Sam never did!

Through the first chapter only, to say nothing of the prologue or other chapters, it can be ascertained that hobbits are a very curious race, and absolutely devoted to food. Yet aside from a few outstanding oddities it strikes me that hobbits are not very much different from ourselves.

[Lalwendë]

I'm coming late to this thread and I wish I wasn't as there have been so many interesting ideas posted I'd have loved to have discussed. But anyway, I've two things to post about now, some more linguistics and my own response to The Shire.

Baggins as a name fascinates me. In The Penguin Dictionary of Surnames (I've used this book as a reference in the Chapter 5 thread too!) it does not appear, but this does:

Bagg(e) - money bag, pack, bundle - Middle English.

This is interesting as it ties in with the alleged large amount of money and treasure that Bilbo is supposed to have hoarded in Bag End. In The Hobbit, Bilbo is also said to be from a well-to-do family. Perhaps the name was derived from this monetary origin. What interests me is that Baggin is a dialect term for food, specifically for the food which you take to work with you. It is a word I grew up with and still use. I don't know if it was used in Tolkien's part of England, but it may have been used by farmers, as that is my own background. If so, then Tolkien may have chosen it as a name to play on hobbits' love of food. I can't find any origins for the name Bilbo, but I know several people who have Bilboe as a surname.

Now, earlier in the thread there was much discussion about how readers react to The Shire. I grew up in an isolated English agricultural area, surrounded by a lot of older people, and The Shire was instantly recognisable to me as 'home'. The rural landscape was very vivid, including the village pubs, hothouses of gossip for the old men in my own village (there was even an Eagle & Child nearby). Hobbit holes were like the cottages, small and low-ceilinged with colourful gardens. The Gaffer reminded me of my own grandfather; his world centred around his garden and the growing of potatoes and cabbages (his Savoys were in great demand), and if he went to the pub it was to talk and hear news. Characters such as the Mayor make me think of parish councillors, very important (to themselves at least) but in the great scheme of things, doing little apart from opening fetes and issuing newsletters.

I react to The Shire on a very personal level, feeling the same sadness as the hobbits do on leaving it. Now I am far away from where I grew up I find myself longing for my own 'Shire', although I know that it is now very different, and much like anywhere else, filled with commuters instead of rural characters. The Shire is almost an emblem of this longing for the past, the urge to go back to a place that is still there, but also not there. I'm sure Tolkien himself intended this, as he too went through the feeling that he had lost an idyllic childhood world.

On a final note, someone earlier asked whether there are any people who are really like hobbits, being small with hairy feet - they haven't seen my family.

[Tuor of Gondolin]

I've always liked the beginning of LOTR and not been troubled by its different tone then later in the tale. It seems to me that Tolkien seems to hint somewhere that he should have gone back and changed the early tone, but I think it's a vital "compare and contrast" to the outside the shire world. And was the Ranger strategy of protection of the Shire while keeping the residents "innocent" entirely altruistic or perhaps tinged with a hint of being the "custodians" of Arnor and an (elvish?) regret to have things change?

And isn't it curious JRRT never moved to a rural environment, even in retirement?

[Lalwendë]

I'm very glad that Tolkien did not go back and redraft the earlier parts of the book, as they are almost 'comfort reading'. I can well believe he may have wanted to do this, judging by the number of first attempts which are published in HoME. It was obviously a part of the book which he found troublesome.

A thought that's just occurred to me is that being such a part of academia, Tolkien was in effect living in a village of sorts. The environment of Oxford colleges is (or was) on a small scale and almost protective - dare I say exclusive, which I use in the sense that it is an environment which provides safety from the intrusions of the non-academic world. Maybe living in such an environment enabled him to live a 'village' lifestyle.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

This is a chapter I always enjoy rereading, especially for its quiet humour. Tolkien is a master in playing with words, and I am very fond of the subtle, gentle view the dialogues show of the Hobbits. The Gaffer is a treat to read!

In wondering about first sentences and their ability to attract or repel readers, I can't help but wonder if the first lines about Bilbo's birthday party plans might seem too tame to potential readers. Of course, the next paragraph adds a bit of mystery for those who don't already know him from The Hobbit, and right after that, there is a slightly sinister foreshadowing of things to come.

'It will have to be paid for,' they said. 'It isn't natural, and trouble will come of it!'

Bilbo's luck is meant, but the question arises: Who will have to pay for it?! The Ring, which has brought him his good fortune, will cause a great deal of trouble - fortunately for us readers!

Numbers are significant in this chapter - I like the fun of saying 111 as "eleventy-one"! Have you ever considered if Tolkien had a reason for placing the Hobbit coming-of-age at 33? The only thing that occurs to me is that Jesus was crucified at 33, but I don't see a connection there.

I noticed one detail this time around that hadn't particularly stood out to me before - the fact that the Dwarf-made toys are also magical. I've never thought of Dwarves as having magical abilities such as the Elves did, but obviously they must have some. What do you think is the nature of Dwarven magic?

The chapter ends with another foreshadowing - Gandalf looks as it he is "carrying a great weight". That makes me think ahead to Frodo bearing the Ring in Mordor.

[davem]

On 'Eleventy-one'

-ty (1)
suffix representing "ten" in cardinal numbers (sixty, seventy, etc.), from O.E. -tig, from a Gmc. root (cf. Du. -tig, O.Fris. -tich, O.N. -tigr, O.H.G. -zig, -zug, Ger. -zig) that existed as a distinct word in Gothic tigjus, O.N. tigir "tens, decades." English, like many other Germanic languages, retains traces of a base-12 number system. The most obvious instance is eleven and twelve which ought to be the first two numbers of the "teens" series. Their Old English forms, enleofan and twel(eo)f(an), are more transparent: "leave one" and "leave two." Old English also had hund endleofantig for "110" and hund twelftig for "120." One hundred was hund teantig. The -tig formation ran through 12 cycles, and could have bequeathed us numbers *eleventy ("110") and *twelfty ("120") had it endured, but already during the O.E. period it was being obscured. O.N. used hundrað for "120" and þusend for "1,200." Tvauhundrað was "240" and þriuhundrað was "360." Older Germanic legal texts distinguished a "common hundred" (100) from a "great hundred" (120). This duodecimal system, according to one authority, is "perhaps due to contact with Babylonia." (from the Online Etymology Dictionary)

So 'eleventy-one'. though it sounds twee, is a word like 'Dwarrow's' which Tolkien knew should have survived down into modern usage. The recent book 'Ring of Words' has a bit more on this, but unfortunately I'm at work now....

[Morwen]

Originally Posted by Estelyn Telcontar

I noticed one detail this time around that hadn't particularly stood out to me before - the fact that the Dwarf-made toys are also magical. I've never thought of Dwarves as having magical abilities such as the Elves did, but obviously they must have some. What do you think is the nature of Dwarven magic?

Reading the line in question, that the toys were of real dwarf make and obviously magical, I thought that "magical" in this case indicated superior craftsmanship the Shire folk didn't understand and couldn't duplicate. The hobbits didn't have any idea how the toys worked and thought them 'magical' but the Dwarves, like Galadriel later in FotR, might not understand why the toys would be described this way.

[Guinevere]

Originally Posted by Estelyn Telcontar

I noticed one detail this time around that hadn't particularly stood out to me before - the fact that the Dwarf-made toys are also magical. I've never thought of Dwarves as having magical abilities such as the Elves did, but obviously they must have some. What do you think is the nature of Dwarven magic?

Well, after all, the Dwarves had made the magical secret door to the Lonely Mountain, and Narvi made the secret door to Moria.
In the first age, the Dragon-helm of Dor Lomin was made by the Dwarf Telchar, and so was Narsil, Elendil's Sword, as well as the knife Angrist. All of those items have certain magical qualities.
I think their magic is more like a craft, and apparently only a few of them were so skilled, and much was forgotten later. Thorin & co had no idea how to make the door visible, let alone open it, and Gimli was no help either.