Why You Should Re-Read 'The Lord of the Rings'
A novel approach to reviewing a true classic of Western literature.
Commentary surrounding the mythology that J.R.R. Tolkien created abounds on the internet. Tolkien himself fanned a speculative fire with since-catalogued letters answering all manners of reader questions, and he wrote extensively about the fantasy’s peripheral lore. Even his old writer’s club at Oxford (known as The Inklings, which included C.S. Lewis among its ranks) has become the stuff of legend. Indeed, The Lord of the Rings enjoys such a well manifested ecosystem in popular culture, that it hardly justifies yet another review; in that effort I would consider myself wholly inadequate to pen anything worth while.
Instead, this piece is meant to engage with anyone (like myself) who had read the trilogy in their youth; had seen Peter Jackson’s extended edition film adaptations through several times; and is still left (decades later even) yearning for another grand scope Middle Earth type fantasy that would be capable of satisfying that once disturbed itch that you simply have not been able to scratch.
If that’s you, I’ve got good news and bad news.
The bad news first. Outside of maybe The Chronicles of Narnia, you’ll be hard-pressed to find any works of high-fantasy that come even close to being as rewarding as The Lord of the Rings and its traditional children’s story overture, The Hobbit. Tolkien’s extensive knowledge of language and classical mythology render his stories something closer to a modern version of the Norse sagas then a simple fantasy series. They are chock-full of sincerity and a richness which has not been duplicated, though often imitated.
But now the good news. Perhaps the years have afforded you a little patience and wisdom (as would be the goal in life) and you would consider the possibility (after all these years of yearning) of applying your more well-rounded adult worldview to the task of revisiting The Lord of the Rings. This would be a considerable investment of time, no doubt. But the payoff is there.
Having recently re-read the trilogy myself and considering it best to avoid adding another painstaking review to the ecosystem, I thought it better to try a more novel approach (see what I did there?). The following narrative represents three things that I simply disliked about The Lord of the Rings in my youth, but have come to love as an adult reader revisiting the books.
For good measure, the following narrative has been accompanied by selected paintings from the Brothers Hildebrandt catalogue. To browse some of their highly-influential “Tolkien art,” you can click here.
Now, onto the list; three things that I simply disliked about The Lord of the Rings in my youth, but have come to love as an adult reader revisiting the books.
Number 1
Perhaps there is no better place to start this discussion then upon The Lord of the Rings’ most enigmatic character, Tom Bombadil. Many find Tom to be too ridiculous of a character for the more serious tone of the books. Tom is a god-like personality who remembers the first tree and vanquishes his enemies (like Old Man Willow) with silly songs. And perhaps the movies were wise to omit Tom, as he does nothing for neither the plot nor the theme of the books. In fact, his presence only leaves the reader with much more questions than answers.
“Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow, Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow. None has ever caught him yet, for Tom, he is the Master: His songs are stronger songs, and his feet are faster.”
In a story that features such clearly defined battlelines between good and evil, Tom Bombadil is a marvel. For though he is truly jolly and wholly good, he is somehow above the struggle between these entities. A spirit of nature perhaps, Tom is not affected by the One Ring of power and even considers it unimportant. Instead, Tom prefers to just be. And he does a good job at that, singing and dancing in the woods with his wife Goldberry. Conceivably this was J.R.R. Tolkien’s commentary on the role of nature during times of human conflict. But that is just speculation on my part.
Number 2
And while the films could easily be excused for leaving Tom on the cutting room floor, their omission of The Lord of the Rings penultimate chapter is not so easily brushed away. As a youth, I simply could not understand the value of The Scouring of the Shire. But as an adult I appreciate the brilliance of its inclusion and consider the story crudely incomplete without it.
Saving the Shire had been a key motivator for good Samwise and Frodo, and all their efforts would have been for naught had the Shire been given over to ruin. And where better to demonstrate the personal growth of the hobbits, without their fellowship by their side, then in their old home country before this War of the Ring ordeal began. Indeed, if The Lord of the Rings has anything to say about ordinary people accomplishing extraordinary things (and I think it certainly does), then this chapter would prove important to its theme.
The unpoliced, rural, and un-industrialized Shire stands for all that is good and right in the world. Like rustic Arcadia in Greek mythology, this was a pastoral paradise which had somehow evaded the comings and goings of the different peoples of Middle Earth throughout the ages.
When the hobbits return to find a police state that is overburdened with rules and tattletales, it is like Mordor come home. As Sam deftly puts it, "This is worse than Mordor! . . . It comes home to you, they say; because it is home, and you remember it before it was ruined.” Reconciliation is at the heart of this chapter and mercy proves to be the ultimate justice against unbridled malice. And the justice served is oh so sweet.
Number 3
Finally, if I had to pick just one more fresh musing, it would have to be the mystery of the Entwives, who had long ago left the Ents in Fangorn Forest to nurture other nearby lands. But that was before the War of the Last Alliance in the second age, when Sauron’s scorched earth policy had rendered those lands brown and desolate. The Entwives were lost, and the Ents were saddened for there would never again be any Entings born to their species; the shepherds of the forest would come to be no more. But as Treebeard rebukes, the Entwives are not dead, they are simply lost. And so, the Ents maintain a hope beyond hope.
Treebeard shows particular interest in the hobbits’ description of the Shire, for its rustic paradise sounds like a place that the Entwives would have enjoyed, and perhaps there is hope that they have settled there. Though this mystery is never concluded in the text, Treebeard’s assertion does perpetuate the understanding that the Shire represents something good and untouched. Speculation about the Entwives abounds to this day. But just as the One Ring had been lost for ages, and then found by the stroke of fate, the Ents hope does not seem to be entirely misguided.
If I haven’t made it plain enough, I have come to thoroughly appreciate The Lord of the Rings from a completely different perspective. Its high-fantasy lore, which sometimes delves into the realm of ridiculous, is truly a treasure to be enjoyed.
If you have not read The Lord of the Rings, I cannot recommend it enough. My only warning is that you’ll wish there were more books like it. And that may leave you with a difficult itch to scratch. To those who have read The Lord of the Rings, especially if years have passed, it is worth a revisit.
Bonus
If there was one consistent gripe that I would have maintained from my youth, it would have been the prolonged journey of Sam and Frodo toward, around, and through Mordor. This narrative takes up the lion’s share of The Lord of the Rings’ second book, The Two Towers, and can (in all honesty) be a tad cumbersome. However, I put myself in check on this matter, recognizing Tolkien’s storytelling genius. The reader’s efforts in trudging through this stretch of the narrative amplify that great burden which is wearing on the ringbearer. And Tolkien has brilliantly used this narrative to communicate one of the book’s core themes, that ordinary people can accomplish extraordinary things! This is where we discover the true mettle of the world’s greatest employee, Samwise the Brave.
Samwise Gamgee is the most outwardly basic of every character in the entire Lord of the Ring’s trilogy, and yet it is he that is the true hero of Middle Earth. If the Shire represents all that is good and worth saving in the world, then it is Sam that best represents the Shire, with all his colloquialisms and earnest care. Of all the fellowship, it is Sam who is most concerned about the welfare of poor old Bill the pony, and it is Sam who whose simple innocence proves itself to be virtually incorruptible. Truly, if it was not for their prolonged journey, the reader would not be able to fully appreciate Tolkien’s message on the beauty of ordinary people and places.
