What ain't there and ought to be.

[littlemanpoet]

Years and years of plentiful harvests have a direct effect on healthy childbirths, don't they?

And alcoholism seems worse in a land of want rather than plenty. Seems to me that hobbits, modeled after rural Westmidlanders, are probably healthy drinkers rather than over-drinkers. Although the gout would probably get them in the end, no matter the size of their feet or what have you.

By the way, if America is a land of plenty in terms of availability of food and drink and housing, it is a land of great want in terms of community and other things that make the soul healthy.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Thank you for your kind words, Gurthang and Petty Dwarf -

As Littlemanpoet has observed, the tightly-knit community of the Shire provides the kind of ties that make for healthy drinking rather than overindulgence. And good harvests mean good health and fewer untimely deaths. In the context of Tolkien's Shire, the omissions of alcoholism and child mortality make perfect sense. Yet, I feel impelled to voice a word of caution. I do think that Petty Dwarf has done us a service by pointing to the absence of alcoholism and high infant mortality as a simple reminder of the fact that the Shire has one foot in faerie and its omissions cannot be judged by normal "historical" or even literary standards.

Despite our temptation to think otherwise , Tolkien's Shire is not real--not even in its origins and roots. The author's memories of the West Midlands, on which he built the Shire of Middle-earth, were highly selective: the child remembered only what was near to his heart, not the larger picture. Accordingly, the Shire of Middle-earth was an idealized portrait that never existed except in the author's head and the hearts of folk like us who have fallen in love with it. In the real world of Edwardian England, there could be "close knit" communities in rural areas which could still have rampant alcoholism, crime, and abuse. See, for example, an overview of one study of crime in 19th century Herefordshire , which is part of the West Midlands. The chapter titles indicate the dimensions of these problems. Nor were such problems confined to the later period. There are a number of studies of 17th century England that suggest their widespread presence in this pre-industrial setting.

So, in one sense, Petty Dwarf is correct in saying that the Shire should have alcoholism and child mortality but does not. To those two items we could also add crime, child labor, grinding poverty, and a class system that would have prevented someone like Samwise Gamgee from ever becoming a mayor. It seems that, when Tolkien created the Shire, what he left out was even more critical than what he put in.

There is an obvious irony here. If we insist on adding all those negative things, we will end up with something that does not resemble the Shire in the slightest! Tolkien was certainly aware that the memories from his childhood were idealized, but he went ahead and built the kind of Shire that he wanted there to be. That does not mean it was perfect. We still have pettiness, greed for little things, parochialism and characters like Sandyman and the Sackville-Bagginses. Even in an idealized Shire, Tolkien wasn't about to forget that Men are fallen, and the Shire is fallen too. Yet, if I was given a choice between living in the Edwardian Midlands and in Tolkien's Shire, even leaving aside the rest of Middle-earth and its people, I would obviously choose the Shire as a much more optimistic and gentle place.

Tolkien was normally pretty pessimistic. His writings on the Legendarium through the mid-thirties were filled with examples of the "long defeat". Moments of eucatastrophe were rare. He did include 'bright' and victorious characters like Beren and Luthien, but only a few. There was the beauty of a place like Gondolin, but, like much else, that beauty was quickly brought to ruin. So why did he "leave out" so many bad things and create a place like the Shire, an essentially happy and thriving community even in the midst of a wider world that was falling under the shadow? And even more critically, how did he rise above the natural pessimism in his soul that had so dominated his earlier writings on Middle-earth?

I think there is one and only one way to explain this. He created it for his children, not on paper but from his head in bedtime stories. If Tolkien had initially sat down with pen to paper, I don't think The Shire would ever have seen the light of day. So thanks to the Tolkien little ones for giving their dad a "reason" to go beyond his normal pessimism. It's almost as if, until that point, Tolkien's writings had sprung out of the period in his life when he had attended college and gone to war. These writings in the Silm hold high tragedy and romanticism, tinged with tears. The Shire instead is tinged with laughter. It comes from his childhood, the period when his mother was still alive. The Shire is there because Tolkien reconnected with something from his early past, and he did that through his own children's lives.

Raising kids will do that for you. It will bring you down from the mountain peaks where you think you know everything and where you exalt in "naked emotion" or even art, and instead put you in the middle of everyday life where "small things" are the norm. So a tip of the hat to Tolkien's family and a tip of the hat to the master artist who not only knew what to put in his story, but also what to leave out.

***************

Littlemanpoet -

You once wisely pointed out the "animal like" characteristics of the hobbits. While you maintained that this was not the total sum of what Hobbits were, it was an important ingredient. I would say the same thing about the childlike nature of the Shire and its inhabitants.

When I read The Hobbit and the early chapters of LotR , I see and sense the impact that his own family had on the way the Shire developed. The Hobbit wasn't just a book written for any children: it was a story that was told to his own children. That is a critical difference. And I have a feeling that their responses and preferences had a great deal to do with the way he shaped the story. This is different than writing with pen and paper for an audience of unknown children. That's why the Shire rings so true to me. I also think it's an important reason why he could never write the "sequel" to the Shire that Unwin wanted him to. His children had grown to the point that he no longer had a ready made audience for storytelling. Writing with pen and paper, his writing inevitably took a darker turn, just as the rest of the Legendarium had. But, thank goodness, he never lost that tiny reflection of childhood--the Shire--that he had earlier developed in tandem with his children, and a spark of it went on to enliven the later chapters of LotR.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Sorry if I'm dragging the thread back to the earlier questions, but I suspect there could be some tie between the lack of information on hobbit graveyards and the manner of the usual hobbit deaths. I agree with much that has been said earlier in this thread about the typical hobbit's lack of preoccupation with death, and I think the manner in which the typical hobbit died likely would play a role in that attitude.

Hobbits die of old age, and rarely of accidents. In a few very specific cases they die in battle or are lost away from the Shire (was Isengar Took ever heard from again?). But largely hobbits get old and die. There is no mention of chronic illness, or of the deaths of young children due to injury or disease. In fact, the only young hobbits to die non-battle related deaths I can think of were Drogo and Primula Baggins. There is no mention, even in passing, of plagues, childhood diseases like measles, wasting diseases, birth defects, even the kind of domestic or workplace injuries that result in disabilities. In all of recorded hobbit history there are no amputees or cripples (although Lalia Clayhanger was said to have been too fat to walk ) or invalids of any kind. Even most of the old hobbits seem pretty spry. Gaffer Gamgee, The Old Took, even Otho and Lobelia Sackville-Baggins enjoy very good health to the ends of their long lives.

What does this have to do with lack of preoccupation with death? The very stability of the pattern ("grow old gracefully and die of old age") makes death more a part of nature and less a fate to be avoided at all costs. Among Elves (who see death somewhat rarely, but always tragically) and Men (who see death frequently, and often tragically) death is something to be put off as long as possible, but always with the knowledge that it could come tomorrow. We see many tragic deaths in LoTR and the Silmarillion, many of these "innocent deaths": Miriel Serinde wastes away from grief, Nienor commits suicide and her sister Lalaith dies in childhood from a plague. Finduilas (Faelivrin) is slain by orcs, and her Gondorian namesake wastes away, Elured and Elurin were kidnapped and lost in early childhood. In light of this frequency of early death, survival becomes a goal in itself and life something to cling to at all costs. Without the threat, in a community such as the Shire, survival is barely a concern.

To use an analogy: people who have never experienced hunger rarely think about how long they will have food. They expect it, as a right. Similarly, hobbits who rarely experience tragedy expect longevity. They have no need to consider the lengths of their lives because longevity is nearly as plentiful in the Shire as comfort, pipeweed, and ale.

Child- this might tie in with your "childlike nature" of hobbits. Children rarely think about death either. But I haven't thought much about this yet.

Just a few thoughts.

Sophia

[Child of the 7th Age]

Child- this might tie in with your "childlike nature" of hobbits. Children rarely think about death either. But I haven't thought much about this yet.

Interesting Sophia! It's quite true that children do not normally focus on death, although they may do so if death strikes very near or in a violent way. Given the fact that Tolkien lost both his parents so young, I suspect he gave an unusual amount of thought to this subject even in childhood. As he stated in his Letters, "death" was the central theme of LotR. So he was not adverse to exploring 'death' in the context of his stories. Yet, even given this stated theme, the Shire and hobbits were, for the most part, curiously protected from premature death. Looking at the geneologies, I see only a few hobbits who did not reach at least 90 years of age. An enviable record!

Frodo and Bilbo were a little less lucky in this regard. Bilbo's father died at age 80. Frodo's father was 72, and his mother 60 when they experienced their "tragic" accident. But even Primula and Drogo would not be considered "young" by our standards. Also interesting, Tolkien makes Frodo an orphan but no mention is made of that fact by Frodo or the narrator. The only real commentary comes from hobbits having a discussion in the Inn. It almost seems as if one of the reasons the hobbits thought Frodo "odd" was that he was the son of hobbits who'd died too young and in an unusual way. Such strange doings were seen as outside the norm--another proof that an unusual or violent death simply wasn't part of hobbit culture.

None of this would be particularly remarkable except that death and tragedy so heavily overhung much that Tolkien had written up to this point. It was only in telling a story beside his own children's bed, that he could break out of this pattern and yet still remain within the Legendarium. Or was he actually within the Legendarium when he began crafting the tale and designing the Shire? Most likely the Hobbit tale was intially seen as something totally separate from Middle-earth. Only gradually was it (and the Shire) pulled inside. But the remarkable thing was that it was pulled inside, and that the idealization of the Shire remained basically intact, with the exception of a character like Frodo whose journey took him outside its bounds in more than one way.

It's a dangerous thing to try and deduce the answer for a puzzle like this from inside Tolkien's head. And the author would definitely not like it! But I can't help wondering if the Shire wasn't a kind of "safe haven"--a place where death was orderly (unlike the experience in his own life) and problems were small and manageable. All his life, Tolkien seemed to be struggling with doubt and worry. Given his pessimistic nature, what better gift could he give his children than a tale like this?

[davem]

Originally Posted by Child

But the remarkable thing was that it was pulled inside, and that the idealization of the Shire remained basically intact, with the exception of a character like Frodo whose journey took him outside its bounds in more than one way.

And yet once it was 'pulled inside' it was exposed to the inherent dangers of Middle earth - it (& its inhabitants) suffered from being a part of that 'greater world'. Saruman & his ruffians appear & drag it to the brink of destruction. Then there is death - on a 'massive' scale. There is 'battle & war', there are burials. Middle earth is a place of suffering, & nothing & no-one within it is exempt. Once the Shire & Hobbits find their way into Middle earth they are at risk.

But they can also grow. In the world of The Hobbit a hobbit may go off & have an adventure but he (or she) would remain what they were. A Frodo could only emerge once the Shire had been 'pulled inside' Middle earth. The world of The Hobbit is the world of eternal childhood & in LotR the Shire grows up & comes of age. I suppose there is a Hobbit funeral - a boat funeral - right at the end....

[littlemanpoet]

Once the Shire & Hobbits find their way into Middle earth they are at risk. - davem

But then the Ban of Elessar removes them again form the risk, and that after a flourishing like never before due to the gift of Galadriel the Eldar..... although how her gift resulted in a whole flock of little blonde hobbit lasses, I couldn't say!

[Lalwendë]

Originally Posted by Child

Tolkien's Shire is not real--not even in its origins and roots. The author's memories of the West Midlands, on which he built the Shire of Middle-earth, were highly selective: the child remembered only what was near to his heart, not the larger picture. Accordingly, the Shire of Middle-earth was an idealized portrait that never existed except in the author's head and the hearts of folk like us who have fallen in love with it.

The Shire is at once real and unreal. It is very much real to me because in creating it and its people, Tolkien drew on the elements of country life that are clear, vivid and most importantly of all, cherished. He took the gossips, gardeners, pubs and lanes and preseneted these to us as not only his lost idyll but our own. This is what makes The Shire real to us, we can recognise it at once.

But yes, it is also not real, because as anyone with a rural background will know, it's a harsh environment. In my childhood I saw an elderly couple living in abject poverty, sharing a room in a beautiful, yet almost derelict, farmhouse with the chickens; today the poverty might be exemplified by the fact that vegetables are harvested by asylum seekers who live in mobile homes because nobody else will do the work for such poor wages. Yet what is the real countryside to me? As did Tolkien, I left the rural community for an urban life and like him I yearn for the past, but it is always the idyllic past. It could only be that, as why would I yearn for a life that promised me no work and endless isolation?

In The Shire, Tolkien used his own yearning and nostalgia to create a place that was vividly real, that readers could recognise, yet a place that was real in terms of nostalgia, of something 'lost'. The Shire is like a 'myth' of the English village. Compared to the rural existence lived out in Thomas Hardy's works, which are often mistakenly seen as representing some rural ideal (when they are in fact unremittingly bleak in places) the Hobbits live in relative luxury.

It was essential, too, to have this perfect place which the Hobbits would return to, and which they could work to 'save'. Not only was it Tolkien's own perfect place, but it needed to be the perfect place on Middle earth we could both dream of and believe we too could live in. Tolkien also created mythical Elven realms which stun us and we yearn to see, but it is The Shire which in the end is protected and saved, while the Elven realms decline. It was The Shire which was Tolkien's own idyll, and the only idyll we could hope to aspire to, and that's why it is both real and unreal.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Aways back there I said that I found Elves to be a bit childlike in their relation to death, but was unable to elaborate on that. But I think, having had some more time to ponder, I know what I meant. . .

For Elves, the only kind of death they know is catastrophic and 'unnatural' -- that is, accident or murder. This is the same kind of death or mortality experienced by children: for a child, mortality simply is not something that applies to them -- the recognition of death, that one will die, is part of maturing into an adult. Elves never have to do this: so long as they don't fall from a great height (for example) or get killed in battle they will live forever.

For a species that experiences death only as a traumatic event, always unlooked for and unexpected, death would not be a 'part' of life in the same way as it is for say, hobbits, who know that it is coming as sure as luncheon follows second breakfast.

For Elves, death interrupts life; for hobbits (and humans) death is a part of life.