Books to film: The Fellowship of the Ring

If you’ve been Puttin’ the Blog in Balrog this summer, and taking part in the group read of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, you may have been brave enough to take part in the live-tweeted movie drinkalongs organized by SJ.

Film poster for The Lord of the Rings: The Fel...
Film poster for The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (film) – Copyright 2001, New Line Cinema (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Every Friday, whoever uses the hashtag #PtBiB can join in for an hour of snark (and drinking).  This past Friday marked the third week, so the group is done with Peter Jackson’s version of The Fellowship of the Ring.

It’s often said by readers, “The book is always better.” But is it? Are some works of literature impossible to translate to such a visual medium as film?  Or do they just need some tweaking to let their stories run free on the silver screen?

I wrote this piece some years ago; my opinion still stands, though I’m interested to hear what readers and fans of Tolkien have to say, since I’m well aware opinion is divided on what Jackson did with Tolkien’s work.

Of barrow-wights and the Balrog: Tolkien brings horror to Middle-earth

Much is made of the differences in tone between J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit and its eventual sequel, The Lord of the Rings.  One was written for children, the other clearly was not.  But what is the defining characteristic of Tolkien’s epic (and there may be more than one) that sets it apart from its child-friendly origins?

I’d venture to say it’s that Tolkien brings horror to Middle-earth.

The unofficial Middle-earth soundtrack

Leonard Nimoy

Longtime readers of J.R.R. Tolkien know he had a deep fondness for poetry and song.  Apart from his own compositions chronicling the early history of Middle-earth (such as The Lays of Beleriand), he filled both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings with poetry, composed or recited, as it were, by the characters as part of the story. It added a richness and depth to the imagined peoples of his fantasy world that is rarely matched or emulated.

Tolkien’s dwarvish (not dwarfish) names

Confusticate and bebother these dwarves: Bilbo tries to keep names like Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Bifur and Bofur straight.

For all that Tolkien devoted The Silmarillion to the vast history of the Elves (and, to a lesser extent, Men), it’s clear from The Hobbit (and in the characterization of Gimli in The Lord of the Rings) that he had a soft spot for Dwarves.

In the first place, Thorin Oakenshield isn’t the leader of a band of three or seven or even nine dwarves, but thirteen; and, remarkably, they all have personalities and relationships and are pretty well fleshed out for secondary characters.

But where did Tolkien find such distinctive dwarvish names as Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Oin, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, among others?

The total-nerd Tolkien reading plan

If you’ve never read Tolkien, you may be wondering where the ideal place is to start.  Ironically, it’s not at the beginning.

The title page, of the book "The Silmaril...Tolkien began working on the stories that would form the history and mythology of his Middle-earth while still a young man; he even worked on it sporadically as a soldier in the First World War.  So those tales, eventually collected posthumously as The Silmarillion, are properly the beginning of the story of Middle-earth.

However, the first of the books to be published was The Hobbit, which is set in the Third Age of Tolkien’s world. (The Silmarillion, including the later portions which deal with Númenor, is mainly concerned with the First Age and Second Age, as well as the vast period before recorded history.)

Why I read Tolkien

In a school newspaper article back when I started grade ten, a snippet of advice for would-be readers of fantasy ran thus: “Read Tolkien. Live Tolkien. Love Tolkien. Memorize Tolkien. Tolkien, we would like to note, has absolutely nothing to do with inhaling drugs.”

Fortunately, at 14, I was already up to speed on the creator of hobbits, Middle-earth and rings of power.