Tolkien Redux

 

Last week I finished my fifth cycle through Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. What struck me most was the fact that each time I read the 1,100 page novel, I take away something different.

The first time, as a lad entering high school in the fall of 1981, I entered a truly mystical world that astounded me. I spent the next year reading through Tolkien encyclopedias and the appendices, discussing the book with friends, trying to piece this and that out of the histories of Middle-earth. It elevated me out of the sea of difficulties I swam in during that age.

Nearly thirty years passed before I braved my first rereading. That time, Christmas of 2010, I finally read it as an adult and was amazed at the coherency and technical depth of the tale.

Two years passed and I read it through it again – this time while listened the audio CDs of The Lord of the Rings. I gained appreciation as the narrator actually sung the songs Tolkien wrote. What started off cringey I grew to respect and doubtless enjoy. Those poems and songs could actually be quite touching, and the talented narrator sung them in melodies far beyond that which my run of the mill mental ears heard on their own.

I travelled Middle-earth again in 2016, the summer starting my current job. What amazed me with this reading was Frodo’s spiritual journey, or Tolkien’s meta-metaphors for it. When Frodo at last strips himself of his orc shield and Bilbo’s Sting as he treads the stairs up to Mount Orodruin, a pilgrim clad only in rags to dispose of the One Ring (a metaphor for … sin), I found myself emotionally overwhelmed.

This last read-through I had another realization: Gimli, the dwarf, is fiercely proud of the accomplishments and identity of his “race,” the Dwarves. Legolas, the elf, is fiercely proud of the accomplishments and identity of his “race,” the Elves. Eomer, of the Rohan, a Man, is fiercely proud of the accomplishments and identity of his people. As is Aragon, a descendent of the Kings of Númenor, fiercely proud of the accomplishments and identity of his people, mistakes such as Isildur not destroying the Ring notwithstanding.

What, tell me, is wrong in being proud of the accomplishments and identity of one’s own people? It is such a revolutionary concept from today’s venomous, bitter hatred of anything and everything. It’s almost so refreshing that I wonder how long until Tolkien is canceled? (Note: there are attempts to “cancel” him right now, and have been going on for quite some time, some nonsense claiming Tolkien uses Orcs to denigrate people of African descent.) Would the movies be made in today’s acidic environment?

That realization hit me so hard I actually put the book down. I think it came to me during the Fellowship’s interlude in Lothlorien.

Anyway, just a remark on a personal observation.

Looking forward to new revelations with another re-reading, though that’s not scheduled for quite a few years.

However, I am thinking of binge-watching all three Peter Jackson movies in one day – ten or twelve hours of Tolkien, unfortunately mixed with modern day tropes, but Tolkien nonetheless.

Maybe that’ll happen before the end of the year, maybe on a hot summer day when all the ladies are at the beach and I’m chilling home alone.