Middle Earth & Kawartha Lakes
In 1997 a pole taken by Britain’s Chanel 4 and the Waterstone’s bookstore chain asked the public to cast their vote for what they believed was the greatest English book of the twentieth century. The response was overwhelming, JRR Tolkien’s epic fantasy, The Lord of the Rings, took top prize. Many literary critics were aghast. One critic had this reaction, “Oh hell! Has it? Oh my God. Dear oh dear. Dear oh dear oh dear.” In 1999, a similar poll was taken, this time by Amazon.com customers. Not only was Lord of the Rings named, “Book of the Century,” but was also voted, “Book of the Millennium.”
On the back cover of my copy of The Fellowship of the Ring, an endorsement from the Sunday Times reads: “The English speaking world is divided into those who have read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings and those who are going to read them.” I choose to differ. I believe there are two types of people, those who adore Tolkien’s fantasy works, and those who just don’t get it. I am squarely in the first category. It was Tolkien who awakened in me the love of reading, and I could easily write several essays of how this one work of fiction impacted my life. However, my purpose for this reflection, is not to share what is right with his work, but what is so obviously wrong with it. Or at least, up until recently, what I believed was a core problem with his work, hindering if from being a far better book.
So what is the glaring mistake of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings?
Remember, there are those who appreciate Tolkien, and those, who, not so much. Sadly, my eldest daughter Elizabeth is in the second category. She wants to be in the first, but just can’t seem to break into Tolkien’s Middle Earth. Elizabeth who consumes literature with a veracious appetite, and reads everything from modern teen fiction to the classic literature of yesteryear. Yet, for some reason, Lord of the Rings is the one book that stalls her. A few months back, I returned home and was greeted with a frustrated daughter. Before saying, “Hello,” she greeted me with, “Ahh! Why on earth should I care about the tobacco leaf of South Farthing, and the boring history of the Took family?” Exasperated, she continue, “I really want to love this book, but I just don’t care about all this meaningless history and backstory!”
With these comments, Elizabeth put her finger on what I always believed as the major shortcoming of Tolkien’s ‘not-quite’ masterpiece.
for the two of you, who may still be reading this who are unfamiliar with Tolkien’s work (and I am impressed if you have made it this far), let me pause and give a very brief sketch of the Lord of the Rings story. In short, Tolkien weaves together a roughly 1500 page tale of how a couple of little hobbits save the world from an an all-powerful dark lord. The story contains battles, wizards, kings, elves, terrifying beasts, hideous goblins, and an arduous quest to destroy a ring of corrupting evil. Tolkien’s tale is ultimately about the salvation of the World, and the overthrowing of immense forces of evil by a small band of unlikely characters. Why in such a large scale epic, would Tolkien waste so much time telling his reader about the local history and economy of the Hobbit’s small Shire — the most insignificant and overlooked piece of real estate in all of Middle Earth? In a story of global significance, who cares about what happens in some meaningless neighbourhood? Yet, for Tolkien the two cannot be separated?
In Tolkien’s tale, he not only begins by giving great detail to the local history, economy, and even the family tree of the protagonist of the story, he also ends his work in a similar vain. Lord of the Rings has all the hallmarks of the perfect fairytale ending: The ring of power destroyed; the dark lord defeated; a triumphant coronation of a good and just king; and the little hobbits declared heroes of Middle Earth! But this is not the where the book ends. Rather, it ends in the most anti-climactic way imaginable. After the victory, after all the pomp and celebration, Tolkien does the unthinkable, he dedicates the final hundred pages dedicated to the hobbits return journey home. Once home, they are not received as heroes, but as curiosities. There is another battle, but it is only a two-bit battle for the Shire, not for the whole of Middle Earth. The primary hero of the story, Frodo Baggins, goes into isolation and obscurity. The faithful sidekick, Sam Gamgee, becomes the minor Mayor of Hobbitton, who then works to restore order and bring back the local economy. Why in Middle Earth would Tolkien begin and end his glorious tale with focusing on meaningless and mundane details of insignificance?
From a literary and keeping the reader’s attentions perspective, what Tolkien does is almost unforgivable. Yet, if Tolkien was actually trying to communicate something other than just a great story, and if Tolkien was using Middle Earth as his canvas to help his readers see their own worlds a little clearer, then maybe Tolkien has something important and beautiful for us to consider?
I have not re-read Tolkien in the midst of this pandemic (I have read Lord of the Rings about 8 times), however, it has taken this pandemic to help open this stubborn reader’s mind to consider why Tolkien is so concerned with the dull affairs of the Shire; and it was my daughter’s exasperation that spurred my appreciation all the more.
With every good story, there are always other stories behind them. A writer cannot help but bring their own experiences and beliefs to bare on every tale they spin, and Tolkien is no exception. Tolkien was born at the end of the nineteenth century and at the height of Europe’s industrial revolution. He served in the first World War, and lived through the Britain bombings and civilization-altering threat of the second World War. As a lover and professor of mythology, Tolkien had a profound love for epic narratives, where the fate of the world is held in the balance. He also lived during a time where he saw the fate of his own world dangling on a razor’s edge. Tolkien was given a front row seat in watching his quiet rural world unravel. Tolkien witnessed how small locally opperated ‘mom and pop’ businesses were being gobbled up by large scale commercial industrialization. During the great wars’ fight for civilization, he witnessed incomprehensible mass globalization, where the individual nation and its local communities were obligated to give up their sovereignty in order to work together with other nations to quell a global menace. What is the importance of Birmingham if all of Britain is at war? And what is the importance of Britain if all of Europe is at war?
It is only natural, the bigger the scale of something, the easier it is to lose sight of what is right in front of us? This is the brilliant insight of Tolkien. Tolkien understood, no matter how big or bad things become, we as people can only live locally. And what should be most precious to us, is always what is closest to us. If we don’t strive and pay attention to our own histories, our own communities, those will be the first thing we will end of up losing, or at the very least, the first thing we lose sight of. For it is in our own localities, and with our own kith and kin, which is always the best place to start caring about, and perhaps the only place we have the influence to effectively care for. Even if one finds themselves fighting overseas, or fighting in a faraway parliament, they do so to fight for the protection of their own neibourhoods, or to help preserve someone elses. Tolkien and his hobbits understood this. Maybe instead of first worrying about Washington or Ottawa, we should first consider Kawartha?
If rapid industrialization and globalization was an issue in Tolkien’s day, then the same problems are now on steroids for us today. Just consider the massive multi-national companies like Amazon, Google, Apple, Exxon Moble; or immense industries like, Big Pharma, Big Tech, Big Energy, and Big Media conglomerates. Think about the scope of some of the challenges we face today: A global pandemic; the crisis of climate change; the power of inter-governmental organizations who wield enormous influence (i.e. The UN, the WHO, the WTO, NATO, the European Union, the G-7 and G-20, etc.). I do not share this to scare, or to suggest these are all malevolent actors like Tolkien’s Sauron. I want to simply and urgently plead, if there was ever a time where we need to give greater attention to the small, to the local, to our own family trees, and to all we cherish, now is the time to give it our attention.
In 2021, consider buying in Bobcaygeon; falling in love with Fenelon Falls; learning all about Lindsay. Sure, study the great books of history, but also go to grandma to discover yours. Tolkien would be proud, and your little slice of God-given earth will be greater for it, and perhaps our globe will have a better chance in the long run if its inhabitants begin by caring about and caring for the places and people they are closest to.
And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, And establish the work of our hands for us; Yes, establish the work of our hands. Psalm 90:17
