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

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

I still think you have a point about The Lord of the Rings, Heren; it's just that Tolkein made a lot of philological jokes in all his writing, and not just the piece we're discussing. It would be typical of Tolkien to give the hero of his first novel a name that could both mean 'a good sword' and 'a fetter', because Bilbo starts out his adventures as a burden on the Dwarves, but soon becomes as useful in a pinch as a well-made blade, eventually releasing them from the Elven-king's prison in a final ironic flourish.

That's heinously off-topic, so I'll return to something that's been kicked around above. Why Tolkien encloses the word 'parody' in quotation marks in the letter quoted by Bêthberry is anybody's guess. Perhaps he was unsure of what he wanted to say, or perhaps he meant to use 'parody' in some modern vernacular sense that he refused entirely to accept. I don't think that we can discount his use of it, though. Given the satirical use to which Tolkien puts hobbits, their status as a pastiche or a parody of rustic Midlanders is entirely plausible. Something doesn't cease to be a parody when it runs close to reality; quite the reverse in my opinion: the best parody never loses sight of the true nature of its subject.

If Tolkien did intend the Shire as a smaller or parodic version of rural England, though, it was an affectionate and nostalgic one. In that respect it's similar to P.G. Wodehouse's sketches of British upper-class life in the 1920s and '30s, which he continued to write long after that social world had gone the way of the Dodo. Tolkien had a strong sense of fun, which would be very likely to depict literal 'little Englanders' rising up to trouble the counsels of the great and the Wise. What The Hobbit began by putting a country gentleman in a legendary setting, The Lord of the Rings continues; although as we are already seeing the author takes the mythical element a lot more seriously in the later work.

As for the unwillingness of good to recognise evil that was mentioned above, I think that Tolkien is more depicting evil growing where one least expects it. Who is it that holds back the attack on Dol Guldur? Why, Saruman; as yet unrecognised as a traitor working for his own ends. Good in Tolkien's works is always divided and uncertain of itself, while evil is always self-assured and at least nominally united. The difference is that the alliances of evil are fatally flawed by selfish motives, whereas when the good and the wise form alliances they have the common good at heart, which gives them greater strength in adversity. Evil always creeps back in, each time attacking where good seems strongest, warping or perverting the greatest bastions of its opposition to serve its own ends. The 'good' side do not allow the existence of evil to make them leave off their trust and goodwill: essentially they refuse to oppose evil at the cost of becoming more like it, which is the hardest lesson of all and one of the major themes of The Lord of the Rings.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Please, all excuse the fragmented nature of what is about to come, but there are so many different points I wish to address that I shan’t even try to render them all into a single line of argument.

Names: frodá is also Old Germanic for “wise by experience,” so that meaning must pertain to Frodo, inasmuch as during his journeys he does very much grow wise by experience. I think this meaning plays off very nicely with the meanings H-I has uncovered in the names of the other hobbits: Sam is already half-full of the ‘native’ wisdom of the hobbits; Pippin and Merry are not really ‘wise’ but possess virtues that they bear with them from out of the Shire to the aid of a world that is in need of those virtues.

I’ve already posted a long entry about names and naming and their importance in the thread Tolkien and Philosophy in which I talk about Aragorn and Arwen as well; not really relevant to this thread, however, so I cite it only for those who are interested.

Revelations: Reading through the posts in this thread I’m beginning to realise that this chapter is all about revealing the ‘fabulous’ or ‘magical’ or ‘darker’ or ‘higher’ matters that lie so closely beside the day-to-day that we no longer see them. Tolkien wrote quite brilliantly about this process of (what he calls) “recovery” in “On Fairy-Stories” but I shan’t address that essay here directly. In terms of what we find in this chapter however:

This process of revelation begins, I think, with the Gaffer’s opposition of “cabbages and potatoes” to “Elves and dragons”; in this line he opposes the Shire and the every day to the two adventures of the hobbits (Bilbo’s quest to the dragon and Frodo’s participation in an essentially Elvish story). He clearly is aware of the existence of both, but just as clearly prefers or thinks it more proper to concentrate on the former.

As the chapter goes on, however, we find that the Gaffer’s idea of an opposition between these two worlds is perhaps a mistaken one. For right in the very heart of the land of cabbages and potatoes we find Bilbo and Frodo – two hobbits who ‘used’ to be ordinary and sensible until they were affected (Bilbo by Gandalf, and Frodo by Bilbo) and thus became “queer.” The way that they ‘stand out’ in the Shire has been commented on already in the thread.

The next revelation is about Gandalf. When he first enters this story he is very much the Wizard of The Hobbit. But there are already hints that there is perhaps more here than meets the eye. At the fireworks display we learn that Gandalf’s “art improved with age.” The Wizard is thus connected with that terribly loaded and powerful word in Tolkien’s world: “art”. What’s more, his association with fireworks foreshadows the moment at which his full power is finally revealed to the hobbits who accompany him on the journey: “I am the bearer of the secret fire of Anor!” Bilbo is the first to see this true side of Gandalf when the Wizard becomes such a threatening presence in their argument, and he threatens to “uncloak” himself.

Closely connected to the revelation of Gandalf is the revelation of the Ring. Throughout this chapter is it merely a small-r ring, but by the end we already have a sense that there is much much more going on with it; it might not be The Ring yet, but it sure is more than a simple trinket!

This is, I think, closely connected to the idea of Road as expressed in Bilbo’s song. As H-I has already quite brilliantly pointed out, the Road becomes for Bilbo and for us, in this moment, much more than just a way to get from Shire A to Rivendell B; it becomes an analogue for life itself with the comforts of home at one end and the comforts of a new resting place at the other, with the adventure of experience along both sides.

The fact that all these revelations (recoveries) are so subtly sounded is, I think, a major part of the chapter’s purpose as it strives to indicate that just beside the ordinary, as though from the corner of our eyes, there is the extraordinary, both wonderful and terrible: Elves and dragons are not just ‘out there’ in some other place that we are isolated from, but ‘right here’ standing upon the same soil from which sprouts our more familiar and comfortable cabbages and potatoes.

Just What is this Ring Anyway?: My final thoughts go to, as always, the wonderful enigma that is the Ring and how it works on one. For me, one of the most highly resonant and important passages in this chapter is:

Bilbo drew his hand over his eyes. 'I am sorry,' he said. 'But I have felt so queer. And yet it would be a relief in a way not to be bothered with it any more. It has been so growing on my mind lately. Sometimes I have felt it was like an eye looking at me. And I am always wanting to put it on and disappear, don't you know; or wondering if it is safe, and pulling it out to make sure. I tried locking it up, but I found I couldn't rest without it in my pocket. I don't know why. And I don't seem able to make up my mind.'

'Then trust mine,' said Gandalf. 'It is quite made up. Go away and leave it behind. Stop possessing it. Give it to Frodo, and I will look after him.'

Bilbo stood for a moment tense and undecided. Presently he sighed. 'All right,' he said with an effort. 'I will.'. . .

. . .

Bilbo took out the envelope, but just as he was about to set it by the clock, his hand jerked back, and the packet fell on the floor. Before he could pick it up, the wizard stooped and seized it and set it in its place. A spasm of anger passed swiftly over the hobbit's face again. Suddenly it gave way to a look of relief and a laugh.

In the first paragraph we have a lot of “I”’s as Bilbo reflects upon the effect that the Ring is having upon him. Against his “I” however is the overpowering nature of the “eye” that is looking at him. This sets up, I think, the contest that will take place throughout the story between Frodo’s “I” and the “I/eye” of Sauron. The immediate effect of the Ring here would seem to be doubting and even loss of the self: Bilbo is wanting to “disappear” (which is what happens to the Wraith’s sense of self) and he can’t “make up” his mind anymore. This paragraph also shows that the hobbits of the Shire have been quite right in their assessment of Bilbo – he is, as they predicted, feeling “queer.”

Only when he agrees to give up the Ring is he able to once again say “I will” – that is, he once again has a will of his own.

The other part of this passage that I find so intriguing is the manner in which Bilbo finally “gives up” the Ring. The suggestion is, here, that he did not really manage to give it up. He did pass over the envelope, but he could not relinquish it completely, as his “hand jerked back” – I love how it is the hand that jerks back and not “Bilbo jerked his hand back”; it’s as though some other will is at work. The most disturbing aspect of his paragraph is the phrase “before he could pick it up,” which implies that Bilbo wanted or intended to pick it up, and only the quick intervention of Gandalf prevented him from doing so (as is further suggested by the “spasm of anger” that Bilbo feels in response).

I think this is an important moment, for in the entire history of the Ring only one person was able to willingly give it up – but here we see that this person was, perhaps, not quite so “willing” after all. Gandalf does not precisely take the Ring from him, but neither does Bilbo precisely give it up on his own. The Ring, that is, does not go from Bilbo’s hand to Frodo’s but from Bilbo’s to Gandalf’s (although he is careful to keep it in the envelope) to Frodo’s.

That’s it for now. Anyone who makes it through the whole post let me know!

[The Saucepan Man]

Like many others who have posted here, I enjoy the light-hearted atmosphere in this opening chapter immensely. The highlights have been addressed already: the gossipy banter about Bilbo and Frodo, the pithy comments of the Gaffer, the labels on the gifts left at Bag End and, of course, Bilbo’s speech. Squatter stated:

Surely anyone who has been present at a wedding will recognise this sketch of a sympathetic audience, their knowledge of the host's oratorical eccentricities lulled by a sufficiency of food and drink.

Those were my thoughts exactly when I re-read the speech this time round. I was put precisely in mind of a slightly boozy but good-natured audience listening to the best-man’s speech at a wedding dinner. The scene is a familiar one, and thus helps to draw us in (more on this aspect of the chapter later).

The humorous “Hobbity” feel to this chapter is, to my mind, essential, as it provides a provides a “bridge” between the light style of The Hobbit and the much darker tone evident in much of LotR. But it is equally essential that the light-hearted passages are interspersed with the more serious moments concerning the Ring which foreshadow the events which are to come. They counter-balance each other and therefore help ease those who have read and loved The Hobbit into the deeper story that he is now telling and prepare them for the darker moments to come. In this regard, it is interesting that the chapter opens with a passage which combines the two:

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

This concludes what at first appears to be a light-hearted and affectionate dig at the tendency of Hobbits to gossip about anything slightly out of the ordinary, in this case the fact that Bilbo appears to be remarkably “well-preserved”. But, as Squatter pointed out, the cause of Bilbo’s apparent youthfulness for his age is indeed unnatural and will have to be paid for (although not by Bilbo). It is, of course, the Ring – the very focal point for the darker tone which later becomes more prevalent.

I was struck, on re-reading this chapter, by the manner in which Tolkien introduces (or should I say re-introduces us) to the Ring. Simply by means of the actions and conversations of the characters, he tells us two very important things about it:

1. It is “unnatural”. While not directly stated, it is implicit that it is the Ring which is the cause of Bilbo feeling “like butter that has been scraped over too much bread”, ie the cause of his “unnatural” preservation.
2. It has a seductive effect on the minds of those who come into contact with it. This, of course is evident from the dramatic exchange between Bilbo and Gandalf occasioned by Bilbo’s reluctance to leave it behind. And, as Child has noted, its power in this regard is apparent from Frodo’s temptation to put it on to escape the attentions of the Sackville-Baggins the very day after having “inherited” it.

Another aspect of this chapter that has been commented on (particularly by Gorwingel and Child) is the way that Frodo is introduced in such a way that makes him stand out from other Hobbits. We know from The Hobbit that Bilbo is regarded as rather “queer” by his fellow Hobbits, and the chapter opens by reasserting this: “Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar”. Frodo is introduced by reference to his relationship with Bilbo and therefore by association becomes peculiar too. And this sense of Frodo being somehow special is affirmed by the conversation in The Ivy Bush, where reference is made to his childhood with the “queer breed” in Buckland.

What I found really interesting was the discussion of the death of Frodo’s parents. Reference has been made already to the parallel between Frodo losing both his parents and Tolkien’s own childhood (which I hadn’t picked up on, but find very interesting). But it is the manner in which their death is referred to that intrigues me. Boating itself is a strange pursuit to the folks of the Shire (west of the Brandywine) and so that in itself makes their manner of death unusual. But the rumour-mill goes further than this. Drogo and Primula supposedly “went on the water after dinner in the moonlight” and Sandyman adds that he heard that Primula pushed Drogo in and that he pulled her in after him. Now, while the Gaffer dismisses such rumours, they nevertheless lend a strange and possibly sinister feel to Frodo’s background and this too marks him out as different.

And all this before we actually meet Frodo!

Also, while on the subject of Drogo and Primula, is there perhaps further material here to support the parallels which Fordim draws between Bilbo and Frodo on the one hand and Gollum on the other? Frodo’s parents died in a boating accident, while Gollum was “born” of a rather earlier boating incident which led to Deagol’s discovery of the Ring.

Child referred to Bilbo’s comment of Frodo that:

It's time he was his own master now.

An interesting reference since, in addition to its literal interpretation as signifying Frodo’s inheritance of Bag End (and of course the Ring), it might also be taken as a signal to readers that Bilbo is no longer the central figure in the story. Frodo is taking over that role. Also, ironically, Frodo is in one sense never the master of the Ring which he inherits. Rather the opposite is true. He becomes subject to it. To mis-quote Gandalf from later on in the book, there is only one Lord of the Ring and it’s not Frodo.

I would also add that it’s not just Bilbo and Frodo who are marked out in this chapter as different from other Hobbits. Although there is only a relatively fleeting reference to him, Sam gets the same treatment too. He is closely associated with Bilbo and Frodo by reference to the fact that both he and his father are “on very friendly terms” with them. Some might think this unusual in what is effectively a master and servant (or, as Squatter puts it, officer and batman) relationship. What’s more, he has in one sense been “raised above his station” by Bilbo having “learned him his letters”. And of course, we have an immediate reference here to Sam’s love of tales of Elves and Dragons. So Sam too is marked out at the outset as being somewhat special in comparison with his fellow Hobbits.

Davem said:

Or to put it another way, does the Shire feel like the familiar & 'everday' world to everyone, or does it have the same kind of 'otherness' about it as Lorien or Gondor - does anyone start the book with the feeling that they're [I]already[/] in another world?

As an Englishman myself, I would agree entirely with what both davem and Squatter have said regarding the familiarity of the place-names in the Shire. The same applies to the general atmosphere of the Shire, the role of pubs as meeting places and the references to post-offices and postmen. All of these are very “normal” (to an Englih reader, at least) and help to lend an air of familiarity to Shire life. Even the Hobbit family names, while quaint, have an oddly familiar ring to them. This, I think, ties in very much with what I said in the Prologue thread about the reader identifying with the Hobbit characters and so setting out with them on a journey into the unknown of the “other world” outside the Shire. Arkenstone asked:

Do you think it is possible that Tolkien was trying to show how normal the Hobbits were and how they could very well be us ? Except for the hairy feet and short stature. I think it is the overall normalness of this chapter that at once draws folks into the book.

To which I would reply very much so.

And so to answer davem’s (rhetorical) question:

if Tolkien had set his stories in some typically outlandish fantasy world, would we care as deeply (or at all) whether it was saved or not?

No, quite possibly not, as far as I am concerned. Which is probably at least a part of the reason why no other fantasy novel has ever made quite the same impression on me as LotR.

Finally, mention has already been made of the anachronisms that may be found in this chapter and which certainly jumped out at me this time round. Now, carriage clocks and umbrellas I can live with in Middle-earth. But express trains? This seems wholly incongruous. I am sure that Tolkien would have spotted this reference (in the description of the “dragon” firework) when re-working the chapter, so I wonder why he chose not to change it. This seems strange to me, particularly given his dislike of machinery and his portrayal of the Shire as an agrarian society. Trains have a much greater association with industrialised societies than rural societies. Might there be some reason why he left it in, or was it simply an oversight after all?
______________________________

Edit: I cross-posted with Fordim, who touches on a number of the points discussed above, particularly the contrast between the "normal" and familiar surroundings in which we start and the strange lands into which Tolkien later takes us.

Interesting point questioning whether Bilbo did in fact give the Ring up willingly. For me, you are spot on in your analysis of this passage, Fordim. I wonder whether Tolkien re-worked this when he realised that Frodo would not be able to give up the Ring voluntarily, or whether he knew that this would be the case from the outset? Anything in HoME on this? Child?

[davem]

SpM

This seems strange to me, particularly given his dislike of machinery and his portrayal of the Shire as an agrarian society. Trains have a much greater association with industrialised societies than rural societies. Might there be some reason why he left it in, or was it simply an oversight after all?

Morgoth breeds (manufactures?) Dragons - the ones in Fall of Gondolin in BoLT are machines - to destroy his enemies & by extension to destroy/mar Arda. Tolkien thought of trains as a manufactured object which destroyed this world (Christopher Tolkien tells of sitting as a boy with his father on the white horse hill, & being excited by the appearance of a steam train. He says his father was most upset, & saw it as an 'intrusion'. (interview in the film JRRT A video Portrait).

Dragons are certainly magical but even within Midddle Earth they're an 'unnatural' force. Perhaps Tolkien is trying to emphasise that, playing up the idea of the 'Machine'.

Just a thought. Don't know if it stands up.

[The Saucepan Man]

Intersting thoughts davem, and they possibly explain why Tolkien used the phrase in reference to a Dragon-like firework (albeit one made by Gandalf). But the reference is still to my mind incongruous with the fiction of the story having been written by the Hobbits. Even if steam trains did exist in Mordor and Angband, they are surely unlikely to have been sufficiently common features of Hobbit vocabulary to be used in this way.

[Mister Underhill]

Originally Posted by The Saucepan Man

But the reference is still to my mind incongruous with the fiction of the story having been written by the Hobbits.

On the other hand, you can chalk it up as a liberty taken by the "translator" of the Red Book (i.e., Tolkien), just as the word "Hobbit" itself is an invention, and other Hobbit family and place names have been normalized for the modern reader. See the very last page in RotK, at the end of the appendices.

By casting himself in the rôle of translator, Tolkien is able to smooth over any straggling errors, anachronisms, or inconsistencies in his work. A stroke of genius on his part, I'd say.

[Guinevere]

Tolkien seems to have been fond of this figure of speech ; I noticed that already in the Hobbit there is something similar:
" he began to feel a shriek coming up inside, and very soon it burst out like the whistle of an engine coming out of a tunnel."

But of course Mr.Underhills explanation is spot on!