Stand-Alone Novels — some of these are related to the mythology, history, peoples, geography, and language of The Lord of the Rings and Middle Earth. Most are Available for download at Audible.com.
The Hobbit — (1937) Ages 9-12. Available for download at Audible.com. Publisher: Written for J.R.R. Tolkien's own children, The Hobbit met with instant critical acclaim when first published more than sixty years ago. Now recognized as a timeless classic with sales of more than 40 million copies worldwide, this introduction to Bilbo Baggins, Gandalf the Wizard, and the spectacular world of Middle-earth tells of the adventures of a reluctant hero, a powerful and dangerous ring, and the cruel dragon Smaug the Magnificent. Bilbo Baggins was a hobbit who wanted to be left alone in quiet comfort. But the wizard Gandalf came along with a band of homeless dwarves. Soon Bilbo was drawn into their quest, facing evil orcs, savage wolves, giant spiders, and worse unknown dangers. Finally, it was Bilbo — alone and unaided — who had to confront the great dragon Smaug, the terror of an entire countryside...
The Hobbit — FUN!
The Hobbit is just good clean fun, delightful for children and adults. If you've read LOTR and wondered how Bilbo got the ring, here's the story. I enjoyed Tolkien's omniscient narrator style in this book — somewhat like Thackeray's Vanity Fair, and more recently Clarke's Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell — which I suppose he adopted because he was writing for children. I think it's charming.
I highly recommend the audiobook, read by Rob Inglis. He's a Royal Shakespeare company actor and the best audiobook reader I've ever heard (and I've heard a lot of them). He has a different voice for each dwarf, and he does a great Gollum, too. He actually sings the songs (nice voice!) and he even belches up ponies. The scene with the trolls is especially well-done. Mr. Ingliss could probably make one of Terry Goodkind's later books sound exciting, but The Hobbit actually is exciting and I highly recommend it for adults and kids. —Kat Hooper
The Silmarillion — (1937) Available for download at Audible.com. Publisher: Tolkien's tragic, operatic history of the First Age of Middle-Earth, essential background material for serious readers of the classic Lord of the Rings saga. This is the "Bible of Middle-Earth” which tells a tale of the Elder Days, when Elves and Men became estranged by the Dark Lord Morgoth's lust for the Silmarils, pure and powerful magic jewels. Even the love between a human warrior and the daughter of the Elven king cannot defeat Morgoth, but the War of Wrath finally brings down the Dark Lord. Peace reigns until the evil Sauron recovers the Rings of Power and sets the stage for the events told in the Lord of the Rings.
The Silmarillion: "Fate Was Heavy That Night..."
I'm going to come right out and say what will make most people think I'm slightly crazy: I enjoyed reading The Silmarillion more than I enjoyed reading The Lord of the Rings. Why? I haven't the faintest idea. Maybe I was too young to properly appreciate The Lord of the Rings. Maybe my love of mythology made The Silmarillion a shoe-in. Maybe the lack of three-dimensional characters was more understandable in a book this vast. Maybe I'm just weird.
In any case, The Silmarillion is challenging, beautiful, epic reading and well worth the time and effort it'll take to fully appreciate the work Tolkien has put into his secondary world. Published after Tolkien's death and edited by his son Christopher Tolkien (who had the unenviable task of wading through his father's mountain of notes), The Silmarillion provides the historical background for what follows in The Lord of the Rings. Yes, as mind-boggling as it may be to conceive, The Lord of the Rings is only the tail-end of a massive history, as The Silmarillion is far more than a mere 'prequel' to Tolkien's famous trilogy; in fact anyone who does describe it as a mere prequel is doing it a grave disservice.
For The Silmarillion is a history; albeit a totally invented one. The inspiration for Middle-Earth came through two major facets; Tolkien's desire to provide a mythology for England (believing quite correctly that the Arthurian legends were strongly influenced by the French) and his own passion for created languages. After designing two invented languages (Quenta and Sindar), Tolkien needed a context in which they were used - what followed was The Silmarillion. It's impossible not to feel a sense of awe at the completeness of Tolkien's visions, for found here is his life's work set out into several books and chapters:
`The Ainulindale' is the rich and poetic account of the coming of consciousness to the world as Iluvatar, (Middle-Earth's God), makes a contingent of Valar (reminiscent of angels) and teaches them a harmonious song that shapes a vision of the world that is to come. Yet even now there is strife, due to the presence of Melkor, the mightiest of the Valar who sings his own melody against the tune of the other. The parallels to the Biblical account of God and Lucifer is very clear, and the similarities continue into...
`The Valaquenta', which is a detailed account of the fourteen central Valar; seven male, seven female. The Valar are best described as gods, each with separate attributes assigned to them. Though this segment is devoted mainly to describing each one and their positions within the world, it is written with extraordinary imagination and poetry as Tolkien describes the hierarchy of the Valar, the secondary spirits called the Maia, and the enemies that emerge at the dawning of the world.
This is followed by `Quenta Silmarillion', which makes up the bulk of the book and contains the namesake of the book. The silmarils are three beautiful jewels formed by the elf-craftsman Feanor that contain the light of two miraculous trees. But when Melkor (soon to be called Morgoth, the first Dark Lord), hears of their existence, he forms a plan that allows him to successfully capture the jewels and escape. Furious at the theft, the hot-headed Feanor swears a binding oath to retrieve them, setting into motion a tragic chain of events as his people set sail from the Western Isles back into Middle Earth to wage war upon Morgoth.
What follows is a massive chronicle, highlighting events and individuals within this great war, with a scope too large to even begin to summarise. Needless to say, it's nearly impossible to keep track of all the characters (especially when they have similar sounding names) and one story blends into another continuously so that it feels like one massive volume rather than a range of smaller stories. The story is marked by the founding of great cities, the forging of dynasties, the division of peoples and waging of battles. There is tragedy, beauty, torture, escapes, murders, betrayals, hubris and even incest, all of which is too vast and detailed to go into any further detail on.
However, one story does deserve special mention, that of Beren and Luthien, a mortal man and an elf maiden who fall in love (and are the precursors to Aragorn and Arwen). After Luthien's father tells Beren he can only win his daughter's hand by fetching one of the silmarils that rest inside Morgoth's iron crown, the couple take it upon themselves to steal the gem from within the Dark Lord's own fortress. A major theme prevalent in The Lord of the Rings is also present here, that of simple folk (in this case an outcast and a maid) doing what the great and mighty find impossible. Tolkien himself drew a comparison between the hobbits and this tragic couple, but the tale of Beren and Luthien held an even deeper meaning for him. He affiliated his beloved wife Ethel with Luthien, and when she died he had the name "Luthien" inscribed beneath her name on her gravestone. When Tolkien passed away several years later, the name "Beren" was added to his name.
Finally, "The Akallabeth" moves away from the Elves to explore Mankind, their island home of Numenor and its destruction (much like our legend of Atlantis) and "The Rings of Power" which puts the events of The Lord of the Rings in a nutshell, ending on the most poignant note imaginable.
When coupled with The Silmarillion, The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings suddenly take on an even greater depth and beauty than when read singularly. My appreciation for both volumes went up tenfold after experiencing the massive history and scope of their history that Tolkien meticulously mapped out for them. The Lord of the Rings may be Tolkien's most famous work, but The Silmarillion is his masterpiece. —Rebecca Fisher
The Children of Hurin — (2007) Publisher: Tolkien fans are sure to treasure this tale of Middle-earth's First Age, which appeared in incomplete forms in the posthumously published The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales. Those earlier books, also edited by Tolkien's son, Christopher, only hinted at the depth and power of the tragic story of Túrin and Niënor, the children of Húrin, the lord of Dor-lómin, who achieved renown for having confronted Morgoth, who was the master of Sauron, the manifestation of evil in the Lord of the Rings. The lengthy and fatiguing battle against Morgoth forms the backdrop for the moving account of the life of Húrin's eldest son, Túrin, a valiant but proud warrior whose all too human frailties augur an unhappy end. Perhaps Tolkien's most three-dimensional figure, Túrin flees from the elven kingdom where he has grown into manhood, sheltered from the forces of evil, after he's unjustly judged responsible for another's death. He hides his true identity as he begins a new life as leader of a band of outlaws, a choice that has dire consequences when he crosses paths with a family member after many years of separation. Deftly balancing thrilling battles with moments of introspection, Tolkien's vivid and gripping narrative reaffirms his primacy in fantasy literature.
The Children of Hurin
Tragic literature can be so beautiful that it deserves to be set to music. In this, the most poignant of Tolkien’s tales about the fragility of human existence, Tolkien shows how those who would be princes of men can so easily be ensnared by their pride. The Children of Húrin is at once a moral tale, but also one of oppression, as the reign of Morgoth, the first Dark Lord in Tolkien’s Middle Earth, is reaching the pinnacle of its power. This is one of the three great tales of the Elder days that Tolkien originally wished to publish together as The Book of Lost Tales, but the project was long abandoned in favour of other things. The other tales were The Tale of Tinúviel (the story of Beren and Luthien) and The Fall of Gondolin. I would not be surprised if JRRT’s estate also published versions of these.
As a long-time Tolkien fan, I knew what was going to happen in this book. It is an expansion of Chapter 9 of The Silmarillion, and it is not the plot that drew me to it. I have always loved every bit of Tolkien’s prose and verse, as his writing sweeps me away to places that have never existed, in ancient times that have never come to pass. The writing is archaic, and I, for one, like it that way, because it is precisely this archaic prose that sweeps me away. This tale just oozes with atmosphere, which, as Rob pointed out in his review below, is complimented by Alan Lee’s beautiful yet somber illustrations, and the story and descriptions therein just drip with ancientness. The brave despair of Túrin and his family is apparent very early on in the book, even before the fateful battle that takes Húrin from his family to be imprisoned and cursed by Morgoth.
The Children of Húrin reminds me both of a Shakespearean tragedy, such as Hamlet, because the hero, Túrin, is so fatally flawed, but also of a Wagnerian opera, such as The Ring Cycle, because of its grandeur and impact. It is Túrin’s flaws that force his doom upon him. However, it is not that simple. The evil will of Morgoth, and his servant the dragon Glaurung, exploit his virtues, namely his bravery and prowess in battle, to help him rush headlong into his doom. However, but for Túrin’s pride, and the pride of his mother Morwen and his sister Niënor, the story would have been a happier one. I think this is Tolkien’s point, as pride seems to be humanity’s greatest sin because it tends to precede all the others.
Readers who are disappointed in The Children of Húrin because it is not happy have completely missed the point and should go back to reading cleansed fairy tales. Tragedy is central to human existence, and Tolkien explores it incredibly well, and with aching beauty. It has been pointed out elsewhere that Tolkien’s weakness is characterization, though I believe that reviewers who hold that opinion are guilty of historicism. Tolkien overcomes that criticism in this book, as I had such a clear idea of Túrin’s character. This is a beautiful, haunting, introspective look at human failing. I would love to see this story made into an opera. It simply deserves music. —Angus Bickerton
The Children of Hurin: A beautiful, somber book
Long before Bilbo Baggins left his hobbit hole, the Men and Elves of Middle Earth struggled valiantly against the Great Enemy, Morgoth (the fallen Valar and master of Sauron, the eventual "Lord of the Rings"). One man in particular, Húrin, brazenly defied Morgoth, who imprisoned him and laid a dire curse upon his children. First told — in a lesser form — in The Silmarillion, this tale chronicles their efforts, especially those of Húrin's son, Túrin, to defy the curse — driven largely by the malicious dragon Glaurung — and, perhaps, to escape it.
In this instance, it is worth reviewing both the story and the form in which it is published. With regard to the former, the tragedy of Túrin is a beautiful and powerful tale, told as by a master-bard in a classical, omniscient voice well-suited to descriptions of nature and events that span decades. Although the language is often archaic, and the myriad names of characters and places almost overwhelming, the tale steadily moves forward and is relatively short. (Túrin's many aliases are also fine artistic touches.) Ultimately, it earns its shadowed place on the vast, rich, and poignant tapestry that is the history of Middle Earth.
And, as a rare achievement, the physical presentation — the book itself — is equal to the story. Beginning with a gorgeous cover painting of Túrin, standing alone beneath a leaden sky and armed with his black sword and dragon-helm, that captures the grandeur and solemnity of the tale, illustrations — both color and black-and-white — abound. A particularly useful feature is a map that can be unfolded from within the back cover so as to be visible during reading. Finally, introductions and appendices provide information which should satisfy all but Middle Earth's most ravenous fans. (In short, this is a book one should not buy as a mass market paperback, if ever released as such.)
Together, the tale and book constitute a beautiful work that should be a fine gift to fans of epic, medieval fantasy. Recommended for all fantasy readers (of sixth grade age or older), except those frustrated by archaic language or numerous, fictitious names. Four stars, ancient but bright. —Rob Rhodes
Tales from the Perilous Realm — (2008) Publisher: The definitive collection of Tolkien's classic "fairie" tales,
in the vein of The Hobbit, illustrated by Oscar winner Alan Lee.
Never before published in a single volume, Tolkien's four novellas
(Farmer Giles of Ham, Leaf by Niggle, Smith of Wootton Major, and
Roverandom) and one book of poems (The Adventures of Tom Bombadil)
are gathered together for the first time, in a fully illustrated volume. This
new, definitive collection of works — which had appeared separately, in various
formats, between 1949 and 1998 — comes with a brand-new foreword
and endmatter, and with a series of detailed pencil illustrations by Alan
Lee, in the style of his other award-winning Tolkien work, most recently in
The Children of Húrin.
The book is the perfect opportunity for fans of Middle-earth to enjoy
some of Tolkien's often overlooked yet most creative storytelling. With
dragons and sand sorcerers, sea monsters and hobbits, knights and
dwarves, this collection contains all the classic elements for Tolkien buffs
of all ages.
Tales from the Perilous Realm: "For Some the Only Glimpse. For Some the Awaking…"
There is a passage in one of the stories collected here that accurately sums up the content of the book itself. In "Leaf By Niggle," J.R.R. Tolkien describes a painting that the artist Niggle has been working on:
It had begun with a leaf caught in the wind, and it became a tree; and the tree grew, sending out innumerable branches, and thrusting out the most fantastic roots... Niggle lost interest in his other pictures; or else he took them and tacked them on to the edges of his great picture. Soon the canvas became so large that he had to get a ladder, and he ran up and down it, putting in a touch here, and rubbing out a patch there.
If the great tree on the canvas is Tolkien's master-work, The Lord of the Rings, then the other little pictures that are "tacked on" to the edges of the bigger one are the stories that are contained within Tales from the Perilous Realm. Although they are written in the same style and often contain the same themes as the famous trilogy, they are not directly related to Middle-Earth itself. Instead they are self-contained short stories that shed further light on Tolkien's ideas concerning the importance of fairytales, or more specifically, his love of Faerie (not the species, but the place) as a setting for adventures.
Contained here are four short stories, a collection of poems and an essay that explore Tolkien's work outside The Lord of the Rings, supplemented with illustrations by Alan Lee. Although older editions of the stories were illustrated by Pauline Baynes (better known as the illustrator for C.S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia), Lee's art is not just an acceptable exchange, but somehow even more fitting. Thanks to his work on Peter Jackson's film adaptations of Tolkien's work, Alan Lee (along with John Howe) has come to be affiliated with Tolkien's work in the same way that we link Quentin Blake with Roald Dahl and John Tenniel with Lewis Carroll, and his beautiful pencil sketches (or watercolours, depending on what version you get) manage to capture the text's blend of whimsy and realism.
The story of "Roverandom" was born out of Tolkien's desire to comfort one of his sons after the boy's favourite toy dog went missing on a holiday to the seashore. Tolkien speculates that the toy was not a toy at all, but rather a real dog that had been transformed by a grumpy wizard, and who was now attempting to find his way home again. As Roverandom journeys from the moon to the depths of the ocean, and meets a host of magical creatures on the way, his various adventures contain aspects of the ancient mythology that Tolkien admired so much. As the introduction by Tom Shippey points out, the dragons, serpents and wizards in the story all have their counterparts in later works; it is all "connected with the bigger picture."
"Farmer Giles of Ham" is distinctive due to its narrative voice, in which an imaginary editor translates an imaginary narrator, wherein the editor is more interested in the tale's scholarly value on historical place names. With a rather disdainful tone of voice, the editor is ultimately undermined by the spirit of the story itself, which pits a hapless farmer against a wily dragon, entirely against his will. Sound vaguely familiar? Clearer than in any other story we can glimpse Tolkien's love of hearth and home, and the supremacy of simple pleasures and old traditions.
Midway through the book is a segment titled "The Adventures of Tom Bombadil," named after one of sixteen poems included here, some of which were included in The Lord of the Rings and only two of which involve Tom Bombadil himself. As most readers already know, Tom Bombadil appears within the trilogy as one of its most mysterious characters, most widely regarded as a sort of embodiment of the English countryside; someone who is immensely powerful, but not interested in exerting that power. Tolkien's powers of creating mood and melancholy are at work here, particularly with the poignant "The Last Ship," which involves the passing of the Elves from Middle Earth.
Tolkien presents these poems as the "marginalia" of writing that was found in the Red Book of Westmarch, which most will recall as the book authored by Bilbo, Frodo and Sam at the conclusion of the trilogy, and from which Tolkien himself purported to gather his information on the War of the Ring. It is a clever way of including several of his early poems (many of which were composed before his great trilogy was properly conceived) into the framework of his greater story, and Tolkien even includes a foreword that speculates on which of his characters wrote which poems. This means he has to retcon a couple of details, as when he blames the fake Elvish names in the poem "Errantry" (which was written thirty years prior to the trilogy) on Bilbo's poor grasp of the Elvish language, but also provides intriguing details such as speculation that "The Sea Bell" was written not by, but in memory of Frodo, regarding to his disturbing illness after he returned to the Shire. Needless to say, it all adds to the rich tapestry of The Lord of the Rings.
"Smith of Wootton Major" is my favourite story in this collection. Despite its humdrum name, the tale is one of the deep enchantment that comes with passage between this world and "the Perilous Realms," after a lowly smith swallows a star concealed in a celebratory cake. Endowed with the ability to traverse the Faerie world, the story tells of his experiences there, until the time comes for him to pass the gift onto another. Sad and sweet, the story contains themes that permeate Tolkien's other work, such as the diminishing powers of the Elves due to people willingly reducing them to pretty little dolls, stripped of all their potency. Yet, as the Elf Queen says: "Better a doll, maybe, than no memory of Faery at all."
As mentioned above, "Leaf by Niggle" can be interpreted as a metaphor for the creation of The Lord of the Rings, with Tolkien as the artist Niggle, a man who is desperate to get his life's work finished. Shippey describes it as an "otherworldly Divine Comedy," in which Niggle is constantly interrupted, first by his own habits, and then by outside forces, finally enduring a sort of Purgatory before advancing on into the world beyond the frame of his own work. Although all the stories so far can easily be read to and by children, this is one that may very well leave them baffled. However, this shouldn't stop anyone from actually reading it to them anyway, though it may take a few reads by adults as well in order to derive the full meaning of Niggle's mysterious journey. Having apparently coming to Tolkien in a dream, this story is one that transcends both our world and fantasy realms, taking us past death and into the (possible) afterlife.
Finally, the collection is capped off with Tolkien's famous "On Fairy-Stories" lecture, which essentially contains much of the ideology behind The Lord of the Rings, and the blueprint for its themes and plotting. Here is where Tolkien coined terms such as the "eucatastrophe" and "sub-creations" and argues the full importance of fairytales in the world: "we get a piercing glimpse of joy, and heart's desire, that for a moment passes outside the frame, rends indeed the very heart web of story, and lets a gleam come through."
Tales from the Perilous Realm will most likely appeal most to Tolkien enthusiasts, particularly in its inclusion of the poems, but anyone with a passing interest in fairytales will most likely appreciate and enjoy this collection. Inevitably there are glimpses and echoes of The Lord of the Rings, which add depth to Tolkien's later work whether it is read before or after this anthology. If you squint, the star in "Smith of Wootton Major" is almost like a benevolent Ring, which grants insight and a certain degree of power; whilst "Farmer Giles of Ham" has the warmth and familiarity of the Shire in its portrayal of the English countryside. And when Roverandom gets a glimpse of the Western Isles of the edge of the world, I felt a little shiver, knowing that in another time and place, Frodo would be glimpsing them too. —Rebecca Fisher
The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun — (2009) Available for download at Audible.com Publisher: The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún is a previously unpublished work by J.R.R. Tolkien, written while Tolkien was Professor of Anglo-Saxon at Oxford during the 1920s and ‘30s, before he wrote The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. It makes available for the first time Tolkien’s extensive retelling in English narrative verse of the epic Norse tales of Sigurd the Völsung and The Fall of the Niflungs. It includes an introduction by J.R.R. Tolkien, drawn from one of his own lectures on Norse literature, with commentary and notes on the poems by Christopher Tolkien.
The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun: 4 stars for big Tolkien fans and 3
1/2 for just fans
The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun, the "new" book by J.R.R. Tolkien put together by his son Christopher, is a translation-slash-"unifying" of the great Norse story of Sigurd the dragon-slayer and what happens to his wife and his murderers after his death. The story is told in
verse form, two "lays" surrounded by commentary that Christopher Tolkien has taken from his father's notes and lectures dealing with the Norse legend. Christopher also adds some of his own commentary, placing the translations into some context with regard to his father's writing as well as adding some historical and literary/critical context, often dealing with the source material Tolkien used.
The fact that the story is in verse will, I'm sure, be off-putting to many fantasy readers. Even more of an obstacle, though, is that the form isn't simply verse but an attempt to be faithful to Norse epic verse, complete with its (to English ears and eyes) strange half-lines, heavy alliteration and stress pattern, and extreme concision. The faith to form makes it difficult reading at times. For instance, the need for alliteration and the requirement of meter means Tolkien
sticks to a lot of archaic "ithms" and the like, and also means there is a lot of word/syntax inversion which can require some hard thinking at times to figure out just what is being said (and by whom and/or to whom). Meanwhile, the focus on the Norse love of concision (what J.R. R. Tolkien refers to as a desire to "strike a blow" like a "flash of lightning") leads to some sudden leaps of "plot" or dialogue/monologue or some just plain confusing "now why did she do that" sort of narrative. The interspersed scholarly commentary can also be tough sledding, with its sometimes arcane references to variant names, for instance.
But The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun is surprisingly rewarding. One could summarize the "plot" in a few sentences (or in several long nights of opera per Wagner) and many elements will be familiar to fans of fantasy and mythology — though lost manuscripts, variant versions, idiosyncratic retellings (Wagner again) all mean that chances are good one doesn't know all the details as presented by
Tolkien in his own personal version. But one doesn't read poetry for "plot" and the same holds true here. What Tolkien aimed at here (and one should note he never saw these as published works) was to capture the force, the energy, of the Norse epic form and the tale itself and he mostly succeeds. Despite the obscure moments of narrative (what just happened in that stanza?) or character (who is talking here? Why is she so upset?) the poems do tend to drive the reader forward and many a scene, such as the battle between Gudrun's brothers and Attila the Hun, are quite exciting, something that may surprise people who view poetry as only the stuff of drawing rooms and small moments of nature. There's blood and dragons and drum beating and swords, gods and demons and giants, betrayal and incest and if it isn't all crystal clear, it's all still self-evidently there. And while the commentary can at times be a bit dense or far-flung, it's mostly a welcome addition, adding much appreciated clarity and context.
Beyond the enjoyment of pace, rhythm, energy and story, Tolkien fans will revel in those moments of recognition, flashes of linkage to The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or his other Middle-Earth works, such as when we encounter Mirkwood the first time. More than just linguistics, though, it will be clear that Tolkien was working in just this sort of mythic vein when he devised his themes, characters, and basic narratives (the hanging of the sun and moon, for instance, can't help but recall images of the young world of the Silmarillion).
I
picked up The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun as a Tolkien fan wanting to see just those links. And also as a fan of myth (I've read prose versions of this story several times). But I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by just how much I enjoyed the poems themselves in their own right. I can't say I'm going to stock my library with Norse Eddic poetry, but I found myself several times utterly captivated and catapulted by some of Tolkien's stanzas. As for recommendation, I'm more willing than I would have predicted to tell folks to give it a shot even if they aren't diehard Tolkien fans — you may be equally surprised. —Bill Capossere
|