The Hobbit (Middle Earth, #0)

by J.R.R. Tolkien

Chapter I

As a fan of the Lord of the Rings books, I’m excited to share my notes on The Hobbit with all of you ahead of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power release. I’m looking forward to reading your thoughts on these passages as well. Let's get this out of the way: They couldn't use the eagles to fly to Mordor because SAURON'S GIANT EVIL EYE was on a tower watching everything and he had Nazgul on flying Fellbeasts to intercept any arial intrusion (not to mention a bajillion orcish archers). The Fellowship was a stealthy commando mission, not a frontal assault. Okay, so are we done with that? Good. I'm Andy Weir and I'll be giving you some of my thoughts on this book. I'm a sci-fi writer, but I still enjoy a good fantasy. And this is the canonical definition of good fantasy. I could spend page after page extolling why Tolkien is a genius, but that would be boring. So instead, let's read something far more interesting than my ramblings about Tolkien. Let's read "The Hobbit".

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

You have one sentence to convince the reader to read the first paragraph. Then you have one paragraph to convince them to read the first page. If they turn the page, you probably have them for the chapter. I have a corollary to that sentiment: Never start a book with a description of a mountain range. "The Hobbit" takes place in a MONUMENTALLY well-defined setting. Tolkien devised literally ten thousand years of history, cultures, and languages for Middle-earth. But he didn't fall into the trap of inflicting that on the reader all at once. He starts off the most epic adventure ever written with a simple, humble statement about a hole in the ground and the guy who lives there. And it's interesting. It makes you want to know more. When the book first came out - before it was a cultural phenomenon - no one knew what a hobbit was. So as a reader you would wonder "What is a hobbit?" and "Why does it live in the ground?" It convinces you to read the rest of the paragraph.

When he got back Balin and Dwalin were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were brothers).

It's rare these days for authors to use the true omniscient narration voice. Usually it's either first-person or third-person. The distinction between third-person and omniscient can be a bit fuzzy at times. Both involve a floating narrator who is not a character in the story. Third-person limits itself to the point-of-view of a character in the scene. So, while the story isn’t told directly by the character (as in first-person), you are only told about things that the character knows or perceives. The focused-upon character can change from scene to scene. Omniscient narration has no such bounds. An omniscient narrator can tell you anything it wants. Even things the characters don’t know. This is the voice used in “The Hobbit”. And this is a good example of it. Bilbo has no way of knowing Balin and Dwalin are brothers. The danger of the omniscient voice is you can fall into the dreaded trap of “telling not showing”. The reader doesn’t like to simply be told a fact. They want to experience it. And Tolkien is guilty of "telling" here. But it works because of the happy tone and bubbly information that is given, plus his general prose style is wonderful so the reader doesn't mind. It takes a lot of skill to write in the omniscient voice. That’s why I write in first person. :)

Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.

Okay, I’ll blaspheme for a moment here: This is a case where the film is actually better than the book. I often run into the frustration of explaining beautiful sounds in prose. You can use whatever colorful language you want but, in the end, the reader just doesn’t get to hear it. So in the film, we were treated to a moving, dirge-like song from the dwarves and it was fantastic. Still, Tolkien was a master of this. The song moves Bilbo so much he envisions himself an adventurer and has a sudden desire to explore and fight evil foes – the complete opposite of his normal personality. The feeling passes as quickly as it came but it is a great way to demonstrate how powerful the song is.

There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called Smaug.

Smaug is the last of the Great Dragons. That means Great Dragons are a critically endangered species. So strictly speaking, the Lonely Mountain should be considered a delicate ecological preserve.

Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway.

This is actually a huge problem for me as a writer. I tend toward the more optimistic side of things with my stories. I want my characters to be happy and have a good time. But happiness and good times don't make for good stories. I actually feel guilty for throwing so many obstacles in their way. I wonder if Tolkien felt the same?

There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something (or so Thorin said to the young dwarves). You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after. So it proved on this occasion.

Unlike Thorin, I have *decades* of D&D games under my belt. They shouldn't send the youngest and presumably lowest-HP members of their party to secure shelter for the night. And really they shouldn't split the party anyway. Oh, also they don't bother to set a watch order? What are these low-level scrubs even doing out here?

“Go back?” he thought. “No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!”

I once heard a saying: "The only way out is through." It really resonated with me. Sometimes, things are incredibly difficult. When they are, you have to just keep moving forward until they hopefully get better. Because there is simply no other option. You may think I got this wonderful quote from some great philosopher of ages past or great writer of the modern era. I got the quote from "Doom", a video game that was one of the earliest first-person shooters to be made. Wisdom comes from all sources, amirite? Full disclosure: The quote originally comes from Robert Frost. But I only learned that much later in life. To me, it will always be wisdom from a grizzled old soldier on Mars.

“What have I got in my pocket?”

I can't be the only person who thought this was bullshit. I mean, come on Bilbo. You two had a gentlemen's agreement to have a game of riddles. There are a bunch of implicit rules in that. You shouldn't be able to weasel out by coming up with something clearly out of the spirit of the competition. Why not ask "What's the cure for cancer"? I'm sorry, but I'm team Sméagol on this one.

“May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks,”

Don't MAKE me talk about the eagles again.

It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.

This is kind of the understatement of the year, isn't it? It's part of the charm of Tolkien's narration style that everything is seen through the lens of a pragmatic hobbit rather than grandiose flowery prose. It makes the book much more readable. (Though I will admit I tend to skim over the poetry and song lyrics.)

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.

Only at the end does Thorin realize the endless quest for material wealth wasn't worth it.

“Thank goodness!”

Got to love the guy.