I agree very much with what
Mithalwen and
Lalwendë have said concerning the familiarity of the Shire. It certainly has that “familiar” air to me with its place names, its smoky pubs, its postal service and its general “Edwardian England” feel, and this would have been even more so amongst readers at the time the book was first published. It is something that has been noted during the course of the
Chapter-by-Chapter discussions, particularly in those discussing the
Prologue and
A Long-Expected Party . Frodo and his companions start in a place familiar to the reader and move through the world of Faerie (the Old Forest, Bombadil’s House and the Barrow-Downs) into a mythical world involving an epic and heroic struggle between good and evil. This, I think, is why the Shire appears to be so much more “technologically” advanced (with its mantle clocks and umbrellas) than the rest of Middle-earth, as noted by
Ealasade in the
Middle Earth - Unstuck in Time thread. It is a place that would most certainly have provoked a sense of familiarity in readers in 1950s England, and it does still, I think, has that effect on us today. (But for how much longer?)
I would also agree that the Shire, and Hobbits in general, have a “childish” or, more properly, “child-like” feel to them. Although I suspect that this is largely because, as Lalwendë notes, the Shire is presented to us as a rural idyll, ie a rural ideal. The darker aspects of true rural life are not presented, making it seem slightly naïve, and therefore giving it a child-like feel. For me, this certainly inspires a sense of nostalgia when I read the book now (although I wonder how much that is because it brings back memories of the time that I first read it, aged 11).
Turning back to the question originally posed by
littlemanpoet, there are indeed a number of tight-knit communities within Middle-earth. As has been noted, the Shire is the most closely drawn and the most familiar. The conversations in
The Green Dragon and
The Ivy Bush, and also the general Hobbitish approach to life, bring this home to us. But there are other close communities too. Rivendell springs most immediately to mind. It is, after all, described in terms of a single (albeit very large) house, yet it seems that many live under its roof. Feasting is communal, and there is the Hall of Fire where the residents gather to share poetry and tales. The descriptions of Lothlorien, Erebor and even Dale also convey the impression of very tight-knit communities.
However, it does seem to me that the greater the size of the realm, the less the sense of community. This is probably because the larger the realm, the slower and less efficient communication is. Rohan, for example, is ruled from Edoras, but is spread across a wide expanse of land. The ancestors of the Rohirrim were a nomadic folk, and even at the time of the War of the Ring seem to live in small, sparsely spread communities. In contrast to the short time within which Merry and Pippin were able to assemble a force to challenge the ruffians, the Muster of Rohan takes some days to accomplish, and even then (if memory serves me) not all of the men eligible and available to fight could be assembled in time. There is, of course, the communal refuge of Helm’s Deep, but that was only resorted to in times of trouble (and quite possibly out of reach for some before danger overtook them). Because it has this looser sense of community, the ease with which Saruman is able to bring Rohan to such a parlous state seems more credible. In contrast to his rule of the Shire, Saruman does not need to use force but is able to accomplish his purpose through persuasion because the bonds holding the community together are less secure.
A similar picture may be painted with Gondor, which basically comprises a series of semi-autonomous fiefdoms. While Minas Tirith itself no doubt presents a fairly tight-knit community, the regions themselves were pretty much self-governing and, again, only came together in times of need.
Which brings me on to
Estelyn’s comment:
Quote:
Insular communities tend to stay aloof from the events of the greater world surrounding them until they are actually invaded...
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This is true of almost all the communities in Middle-earth. There is very little sense of “international” community, and they are only drawn together by the struggle against a common enemy. Yes, there is trade between Esgaroth/Dale and Erebor, Thranduil’s realm and the Shire. But many communities have closed themselves of completely. Apart from the Shire (which, as has been noted, was isolationist in its outlook), Rivendell seems to have been fairly isolated to all but those who knew where it was or (like Boromir) searched long for it. Lothlorien was even more isolated, being regarded as a place of mystery and danger by the Rohirrim and many in Gondor too (a situation no doubt encouraged by the Elves of Lorien). And the Dwarves of Erebor and Elves of Mirkwood were (as evidenced by the initial distrust between Gimli and Legolas) openly antagonistic towards each other. Funnily enough, the two communities (Dale and Erebor apart) that seem the closest are those which seem the most disparate in themselves: Rohan and Gondor. They are linked symbolically by historic alliance and (in some cases) by marriage, and logistically by the chain of beacons along the foothills of the White Mountains. But even then, they are only physically drawn together in a time of war.
So what does this tell us? Well, I think that it very much reflects the world of the time in which Tolkien was writing. There was a much greater sense of community within towns and villages, but very little in the way of international community. As in Middle-earth, nations only came together in times of international crisis. Yes, alliances and ententes were formed, but institutions like the United Nations, NATO and the economic unions that we have today only came about after the Second World War and largely as a response to it, to prevent the same thing ever happening again.
The world has changed dramatically since the publication of LotR and it continues to change. Although the Shire still seems a familiar place to readers of the book, I wonder how much this will remain the case as time goes on. In developed countries, and in many developing countries, large sections of the population have migrated/are migrating to the urban conurbations, where there is much less of a sense of community. Those of us who live in towns often hardly know the people who live two doors down the road and we go to pubs and bars to socialise specifically with our friends rather than with others in our “community”. Even our modern “gated communities”, which I suppose do bring people together, are primarily aimed at insulating their residents from certain sections of (their own) society. And, at the same time, the international community grows. The corporations which govern so much of our lives are global in nature and (even though it is far from perfect) there is much more international co-operation than ever before in our history.
Now, I’m not saying that this is necessarily a bad thing (although the loss of a sense of “individual community” is, in some ways, to be mourned), and it can (or could) be a very good thing in areas such as international co-operation in environmental matters. But I do wonder whether, as time passes and this trend continues, the world presented in Middle-earth will become less relevant to us. Or will we instead retain that sense of familiarity, but with a heightened sense of nostalgia for something lost?