On the Shoulders of Hobbits by Louis Markos

I first heard of Louis Markos when The Teaching Company offered a big discount on his lectures about C.S. Lewis. Later my husband enjoyed Restoring Beauty, Markos' book on the themes of truth and beauty in Lewis' books.

While I was still reeling from the impact of The Lord of the Rings (which I read it for the first time in 2013), I heard that Markos had written a book called, On the Shoulders of Hobbits: The Road to Virtue with Tolkien and Lewis; I knew I had to have it.

His introduction, called "Stories to Steer By," suggests that in the past morality has been taught "first and foremost through stories." But today there is a dearth of such tales. "Worse yet, we try to make up counter stories, politically correct fairy tales that are as paltry as the newfangled virtues they are meant to celebrate" [i.e.tolerance, multiculturalism and environmentalism.] (p. 12)

Markos then sets out to celebrate the traditional virtues of courage, love, self-control, etc. by highlighting how each of them is portrayed in the masterworks of Tolkien and Lewis. Although friendship is not included in common lists of virtues, Markos contends that Tolkien elevated it to new heights with his powerful depiction of the bonds between the members of the Fellowship, especially between Sam and Frodo.

Each chapter of the book deals with a specific moral quality as evidenced in Lord of the Rings and in the Narnia Chronicles. Although I loved both of them, I wasn't always able to appreciate the two of them being compared side by side. It was jarring at times to be pulled out Middle Earth and yanked into Narnia. Still, I appreciated Markos' keen observations with regard to these two masterpieces of English literature.

Fairy tales are often accused of prettifying hard truths. In the hands of masters like Lewis and Tolkien, they are more likely to strip away prettified lies. (p. 153)

What Kind of Hero is Katniss Everdeen?

The GospelCoalition blog has an interesting post on Katniss Everdeen, the heroine of The Hunger Games books. I read the series because there was so much debate about whether the theme of self-sacrifice outweighed the more negative themes. Here’s a brief quote:

Though she isn’t a substitutionary Christ figure, I think there’s another type to consider when looking at her story (especially in the first two installments): the suffering servant. Consider the Lord of the Rings trilogy as a parallel: The Hunger Games doesn’t give us an Aragorn, a warrior-king who rallies the forces of good. Instead, it gives us someone more complex and difficult, a girl who unwittingly becomes a symbol of national hope and rebellion, whose road is marked not by victory but by suffering. She’s not Aragorn; she’s Frodo. . . . .

A thought-provoking article.

Click on the titles to see my reviews of the books: Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

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. . .   This is the story of how a Baggins had an adventure, and found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected.  He may have lost the neighbors’ respect, but he gained - well, you will see whether he gained anything in the end.

So begins the delightful story of Bilbo Baggins and his escapades. Even though Bilbo asserts that he has no use for adventures (“Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things!  Make you late for dinner!”), he embarks on a journey with Gandalf and thirteen dwarves that will change him forever.  Since I had just finished the Lord of the Rings trilogy I couldn’t help but recognize their similar themes: greed, villainous foes, a hopeless quest, a returning king, a definitive battle, an adventure that lasts a year, and unimpressive hobbits who astound everyone with their faithfulness and courage.

However, it probably wasn’t a good thing that I read this after The Lord of the Rings because it seemed so light in comparison.  Still, because of it’s lightness, this would make a great family read aloud.  In fact, with dwarves named Ori, Gori,  Balin, Dwalin, Fili and Kili, the book BEGS to be read aloud.  

On second thought, the "lightness" of The Hobbit makes the ending of the LOTR trilogy all the more amazing. Because the hobbits have matured through suffering, they are able to save the shire from evil influences, something the untried hobbits are unable to do.

Return of the King by J. R. R. Tolkien

I didn’t think I liked Return of the King as much as The Fellowship and Two Towers, but later decided it was the most heartwarming of the the three - even with all the battles.

What can equal the tenderness of Sam carrying Frodo when neither of them had any strength left?   Or Sam’s courage when all seemed lost?

But even as hope died in Sam, or seemed to die, it was turned to a new strength.  Sam’s plain hobbit-face grew stern, almost grim, as the will hardened in him, and he felt through all his limbs a thrill, as if he was turning into some creature of stone and steel that neither despair nor weariness nor endless barren miles could subdue. (p. 259)

Some of the most touching scenes from the book were not in the movie: Aragorn’s actions in the Houses of Healing, Faramir falling love with Eowyn, Merry and Pippin becoming the heroes of the Shire after feeling so small and inadequate in the battles for Middle Earth.  

There are powerful scenes too:  When Frodo extends grace to Saruman (and receives Saruman’s  curses in return), when Gandalf arrives to save the day, and when Aragorn is crowned.  His coronation is described in almost biblical language:
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But when Aragorn arose all who beheld him gazed in silence, for it seemed to them that he was revealed to them now for the first time.  Tall as the sea-kings of old, he stood above all that were near; ancient of days he seemed and yet in the flower of manhood; and wisdom sat upon his brow, and strength and healing were in his hands, and a light was upon him.  And then Faramir cried: Behold the King!” (p. 304)

Gandalf has the best quotes in the book, especially when encouraging the men (elves and hobbits too) to fight against impossible odds:  “It is not our part to master the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till.  What weather they have is not ours to rule.” (p. 190)

You don’t have to be a believer to enjoy The Lord of the Rings, but the themes of faithfulness and hope in the midst of tribulation enriched my faith.

Quote on Foreknowledge by Tolkien

Sometimes we wish we could see into the future because the “unknown” is so nerve-wracking.  Yet it is a mercy that we can’t.  How could we bear it if we saw all the troubles that were ahead?  According to Tolkien, it is a mercy in another sense:

And Gandalf said, "Many folk like to know beforehand what is to be set on the table; but those who have laboured to prepare the feast like to keep their secret; for the wonder makes the words of praise louder.” (Return of the King, p. 307)

The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien

Trying to review the Lord of the Rings trilogy is like standing in front of “The Pieta” and calling it “a nice statue.”  There just aren’t words to describe the combination of whimsy, adventure and manly virtue.   As I noted in my review of Fellowship of the Rings, Tolkien’s novel requires a tremendous amount of perseverance, but the rewards are rich.  It’s no wonder that those who love these books have a mystique about them.  The beautiful language and compelling story seem to demand a heart response from the reader.

Near the end of The Two Towers, Sam talks to Frodo about what makes an enduring story.

 “The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them.  I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say.  But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind… I wonder what sort of tale we’ve fallen into?

“I wonder if we shall ever be put into songs or tales.  We’re in one, of course; but I mean: put into words, you know, told by the fireside, or read out of a great big book with red and black letters, years and years afterwards.  And people will say: “Let’s hear about Frodo and the Ring!” And they’ll say: “Yes, that’s one of my favorite stories.  Frodo was very brave, wasn’t he, dad?” “Yes, my boy, the famousest of the hobbits….”’ (p. 711-712)

Did Tolkien know when he wrote these words that he was writing a masterpiece that would be read and re-read for generations to come?

Again, nothing I write can do the book justice.  I loved the Ents, I loved Faramir, I loved the constant references to Galadriel, I loved Gimli’s guileless infatuation with her, I loved faithful Sam, I loved the gorgeous prose:

When Sam determines to go with Frodo till the bitter end: “Sam said nothing.  The look on Frodo’s face was enough for him; he knew that words of his were useless.  And after all he never had any real hope in the affair from the beginning; but being a cheerful hobbit he had not needed hope, as long as despair could be postponed.” (p. 638)

Or when Sam describes Galadriel as “Hard as di’monds, soft as moonlight.  Warm as sunlight, cold as frost in the stars.  Proud and far-off as a snow-mountain, and as merry as any lass I ever saw with daisies in her hair in springtime.” (p. 680)

The Two Towers is a literary feast that nourishes and delights.

P.S. I watched the movie a few days after completing the book and was disappointed with its portrayal of Gimli and Faramir.  Gimli brought comic relief in the film, but he was not a buffoon in the book.  Faramir is a much more honorable character in the print version, although he does redeem himself in the movie.  Oh well. We all know that films are rarely as satisfying as the books...

The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

I have long looked at lovers of the Lord of the Rings trilogy as an exclusive fan club with their inside knowledge of the books and their disdain for the rest of us illiterates.  I was half afraid to read the books just in case I didn’t “get it” and was forever barred from this privileged group. I’m even a little embarrassed about reviewing them now since there are others who have read the books multiple times and who understand them more than I do.

Fellowship is an epic adventure in the truest sense of the word: “an extended narrative poem in elevated or dignified language, celebrating the feats of a legendary hero.”  Simple, home-loving Frodo becomes involved in a larger-than-life battle between good and evil and he willingly sacrifices his own wishes and comforts to “do the right thing” as far as the powerful Ring is concerned. 

I don’t regret having seen the films first (something I rarely do) because a certain amount of foreknowledge kept me from getting bogged down in the many confusing names.   Not only do several people have more than one name (Aragorn/Strider, Gollum/Smeagol), but the mountains and even the swords have names.  Being familiar with the main characters from the movie was helpful as I worked my way through the book.  “Work” is the key word because The Fellowship of the Ring is no easy read.  This first book in the trilogy is 400 pages long, but by page 200 hundred, Frodo has barely left the Shire to head out for his adventures.  Still, the book is worth the effort.

Tolkien’s tale is compelling in its portrayal of friendship and bravery among Frodo and his companions, but it is made even richer by its use of beautiful language (at times reminiscent of the English in the King James Bible). 

An example from page 244: Sauran was diminished, but not destroyed.  His Ring was lost but not unmade.  The Dark Tower was broken, but its foundations were not removed; for they were made with the power of the Ring, and while it remains they will endure.

I’m very glad I took the plunge and began the LOTR trilogy.  Now I’m hoping I’ll find time to read the sequels.