A Sense of Place

"But what does it really look like?"

The inside corners of her eyebrows pull center. She's been sitting at her end of the tired, blue-striped couch, gazing slack-jawed at the carpet for over an hour. Now, she looks right at me. Direct eye contact, unblinking and clear.

Jen and I are reading "Three is Company," Chapter 3 of J.R.R. Tolkien's Fellowship of the Ring.

The fact that we're even sitting here on the couch with the decades-old, thousand-plus pages of red-leather-bound fantasy is a personal victory. When Jen was 5, I read "The Hobbit" at her. She paid half-attention until shadows of Mirkwood became too present in the corners of her room. Shortly after her 9th Birthday, just weeks ago, she asked if we could resume Bilbo's journey. I knew it was just an excuse to spend time curled up in the arms of her sometimes-distant and distracted father. Knowing broke my heart no less.

By the time Smaug lay dead under the waters of Lake-town, she was entranced. The night we finished "The Hobbit," we immediately started the trilogy, and have been making our way out of the shire with Frodo for the last few days.

"What do you mean Jen?"

Her eyes bear witness to a frustration her grown-up face won't show. "I know he says what it looks like, but sometimes I can't picture it in my head."

I'm not sure how to answer. Tolkien, for all his faults as a writer, paints beautiful still-life. I re-read the section:

The sun went down. Bag End seemed sad and gloomy and disheveled. Frodo wandered around the familiar rooms, and saw the light of the sunset fade on the walls, and shadows creep out of the corners. It grew slowly dark indoors. He went out and walked down to the gate at the bottom of the path, and then on a short way down the Hill Road. He half expected to see Gandalf come striding up through the dusk.

"I don't know Jen, I can see it pretty clearly in my head. The way the house can look old and tired at the end of a long day. When the sunset stops being orange and starts just seeming gray, and we haven't turned on the lights yet? It's a sad, kind of melancholy time of day."

She quiets, thoughtful. I let the silence sit, marvelling at the wisdom of 9 years: able to pose questions yet often too full of chaos to walk to the answers.

"There's a movie of this, isn't there? Can we watch it?"

"No." I laugh. It's my best parenting laugh. I call it my "Are you insane?" laugh.

"Why not? If I'm old enough to read the book, why aren't I old enough to see the movie?"

She's across from me on the other end of the couch, knees pulled up to her chin. Her short brown hair frames her face, and for a minute she seems a 20-year-old ball of young woman. She pouts, cracking the mold and becoming my little girl again. I give her foot a squeeze.

"It's not that you're not old enough. I just want you to have your pictures in your head, before you see the movie and get someone else's pictures in your head."

We read on. The chapters in "The Lord of the Rings" are far longer than I remembered. Reading it aloud, the prose seems more dense, but also more fluid. Forty-five minutes later, Frodo and Sam and Pippin have spent the night with elves. Jen laughs and squirms with delight at Sam's reactions to the fair-folk, channeled through my best vaudevillian camp. She throws her head back in deep, full laughter. I'm delighted to realize that Sean Astin's Sam -- the one from the movies -- is nowhere in my head as I play the part. My sense of character is entirely my own.

After the inevitable cries of "More daddy, more!" I shovel her into bed. I kiss her palms, and she rubs the kisses into her cheeks, a ritual some 5 years running. I shut her door halfway, and stand a silent vigil for a handful of seconds, as I have nearly every night for a decade. She rolls over a few times, tumbling blankets and pillows as she nests.

I descend one flight of stairs.

"She down?" asks Jess.

I nod. I kiss her briefly, hug her hard, nuzzling the soft spot below her ear.

"I'm going to get back to work, K?"

She nods, and I retreat one more stairwell and one lifetime to the basement.

Sitting behind the blue glow of the screens, I re-enter Middle Earth, this one rendered not by Tolkien's prose or Peter Jackson's cameras, but by the computers sitting in the cubicles of programmers in Westwood, MA.

I wasn't planning on playing Lord of the Rings Online tonight. Kids asleep, I have work to do. But it's not playing that I'm doing anyway, it's wandering. At first, I jump into the Mines of Moria, Turbine's latest expansion. Pure tourist, I walk across bridges and along the beds of underground streams, examining the pattern of light as it reflects through ancient columns: god rays rendered solid in the mists from omnipresent waterfalls.

But my mind keeps going back to Frodo, leaving home on that night so long ago when I was 10. I switch characters. I too have a small, portly and frightened hobbit holding station in Hobbiton. It's mid-day in the Shire, but I make my way up the hill to Bag End. I wait. The sun sets. The light of the sunset fades on the walls. Shadows creep out of the corners. I half expect to see Gandalf come striding up through the dusk.

"This is what it looks like Jen," I mutter to the concrete walls and the numbing hum of computer fans.

Comments

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I remember when my dad gave my sister and I those books to read. I think I was around 12. The other kids laughed at school because I'd have my nose in my large-sized copy even when I was walking from class to class.

...Man, that is too great. I need to read those again. And maybe play that game sometime. I liked the movies, but I've never been able to bring myself to play any of the videogames. I know it'll just kill me how far they stray from Tolkien's vision... but maybe in an MMO environment I could manage to overlook it. Speaking as someone who clearly values fidelity to the subject matter as I do, is that how you find LOTRO? Do you guys have a cool guild?

I'm sorry I didn't start paying attention to this site sooner.

You guys can write. Bravo sir.

Beautifully written. I hope one day I can do the exact same event with my children. I'm currently reading through the trilogy myself right now, and loving every word. I too want to jump into Turbine's world and explore the beautiful land that Tolkein created. For now I will resist, but once Return of the King is finished, I do not know how much longer I will hold out.

Really nice.

rabbit wrote:

"The way the house can look old and tired at the end of a long day. When the sunset stops being orange and starts just seeming gray, and we haven't turned on the lights yet? It's a sad, kind of melancholy time of day."

Your kids are lucky to have a dad with such a great sense of imagery. I hope to be able to do the same someday.

My problem with movies is that as soon as I see them, the pictures in my head are erased. Overwritten by the new ones. It's pretty upsetting, actually - I totally regret seeing the movies - I won't say they ruined the franchise for me, but they definitely changed it to something else.

In eight years time I might try repeating your experience; wonderful description of a wonderful moment, thanks Julian.

Dysplastic wrote:

]My problem with movies is that as soon as I see them, the pictures in my head are erased. Overwritten by the new ones. It's pretty upsetting, actually - I totally regret seeing the movies - I won't say they ruined the franchise for me, but they definitely changed it to something else.

I totally agree, which was why I was so stoked when I realized that "my Sam" was entirely mine. Terrible, I'm sure, but still mine. That said, I loved the movies.

Just wonderful =)

As someone who has been wandering through Turbines Middle-Earth for the better part of 1.5 years, the Shire is still my favourite area to relax. I only just finished the pie running quests as I had been doing them for months when I wanted to relax.

It's interesting, I remember when I was about 9 yrs and my mum read the books to me and I couldn't stop wondering what the principle characters looked like. Tolkien never really goes into details on that, only saying vague things like "the hobbits liked blues and greens" (paraphrasing) which, while it left things to the imagination and is part of his genius, wasn't terribly specific.

When I saw pictures of the main characters in the movie, I was rather agape at how spot on they were. And that's why the movies tend to overtake the books - because they are so close, it's hard to differentiate. And then your imagination starts to blend with Jackson's interpretation until you can't sort out which is which. Definitely a good call having your daughter wait, rabbit.

So when is that LotRO podcast? Seems like you guys have been playing, but you sure haven't been talking about it that much.

Thanks Julian. That was a wonderful piece. I can't wait until my son is old enough to appreciate The Hobbit. Though I dread having to read the songs aloud. I certainly won't attempt to sing them.

I've read The Hobbit to my son (5), and he half-listened to it in a similar way to your daughter, Rabbit. You've made me pause, though. I've been counting the days until he's old enough to watch the films, but oddly I hadn't really thought about getting him to read the books. I'm so specific about how the books - well, any adapted book - is the "real" story, and the "real experience", and the films adapted from it are the copy, the crap things they had to do to make the book work as a film. But no, you're absolutely right. He has to read the books (or have the books read to him) before he should watch the movies. He's learning to read at the moment (being part of which is another parenting Joy I have to tell people who thing having children is all about poo), so he's a bit too tired to listen to a long story after his daily reading, but that'll change.

You've stopped me making a terrible mistake. Thank you.

Very nice read Rabbit.
I always enjoy reading or hearing your stories about passing your geekery onto your children (and those of other goodjers). I inherited my love of geeky things from my mother, and hope to continue the family tradition.

I was probably in about grade two/three when I first read the Hobbit. Before that my dad had tried to read the book to me but I very quickly lost interest in it. I was too smitten with Roald Dahl and the fantastic Mr. Fox. What finally drew me into Tolkien's work was immagery: we have a large format leather bound copy of THe Hobbit with images painted by Michael Hague from 1984 which I have pulled off the shelf to look at as I write this. Time and again I would take out the book and flip to the watercolour of Smaug sprawled across his hoard, smoking at the nostrils and feel the excitement of the lone hobbit-sized shadow sneaking across a far wall, and I would stare at it at length imagining the adventure that this book must contain. Ultimately it was immagery which made me read the Hobbit and, while I have fomed my own mental version of the Lord of the Rings, I still owe a debt to the art Tolkien's books inspire.
I guess what I am saying, Rabbit, is that I support your decision one hundred percent re. the movies, but also a part of me sympathises with your daughter.

What a great article. I can't wait to start reading The Hobbit to my nephew. It's going to be awesome for the both of us.

jonnypolite wrote:

So when is that LotRO podcast? Seems like you guys have been playing, but you sure haven't been talking about it that much.

They can't. They can only talk about WoW, or else Blizzard will take the site down and eat whole Internet. One of those murder/suicide deals.

*anyway*

I still clearly remember how I bought LoTR in London when I was 16. I never thought I would finish the book and the next thing I know it's 3 am on the bus and my light is the only one on. The book was crack. I'm so looking forward to reading it to my young one when he's old enough. Before the movies. I'll stay off them for a year or two before to let the characters I remember subside. Also, I have to hope that the translation into my own language is a decent one and won't bother me too much. The book is just so damn difficult to translate properly.

Fantastic article, Rabbit. Reminds me of the time I read the Hobbit when I was 9 years old. I raced through it in less than a week just to impress my father.

Well done sir.

I applaud your efforts to hold fast to books before movies. We rob ourselves of so much of the wonder of imagination these days. I would pay good money to void all memories of the LOTR film trilogy even though I read the books first, the imagery somewhat governs my current memories.

Nice work Julian.

Very nice. Your daughter sounds adorable.

It's fantastic that you're reading to your kids. I know if I ever become a father, I will do the very same. My kids will be readers, I'm sure of it.

My first visions of Middle-Earth were influenced by The Hobbit animated movie back in the 70s. That and a beautiful art book a neighbor's family gave me when I was really little, maybe 4 or 5, that also told the story of the Hobbit. Oh I treasured that art book (and I still have it.).

I appreciate what Peter Jackson and Team have done, but at the same time I tend to imagine flashes of color and art style going back to that first animated movie. I've read those books so many times and it's always a welcomed return to find myself nose-deep in their pages. When we lived in Japan, I urged my wife to read it, and she did find both the Hobbit and the LoTR in Japanese. I always wondered if it read with the same voice that the English versions did. It's probably different, altered by language, cultural and historical nuances of the words. Still, she loved it and I was thrilled it was an adventure we could share.

Good work, rab. I think you illustrate quite clearly just how exciting it can be to share what you love with your kids -- and how lonely it can be when you realize you can't, not without destroying a little of the magic. I see a lot of myself in Jen, not caring as much about the "real" Middle-Earth, as much as wanting to see it like Daddy did. This article is a 500 word treatise on father-daughter relations condensed into one Front Page Article. Just brilliant.

Wow, rabbit, that was a fantastic article.

I always thought Tolkien's prose in the first books was overlong in certain sections. However, your article made me realize it might be a completely different experience when reading aloud, so I might just try that in the future with my son when he's old enough.

Good stuff. And I was just there the other day and I keep wanting to reread the books because of it.

rabbit wrote:
Dysplastic wrote:

]My problem with movies is that as soon as I see them, the pictures in my head are erased. Overwritten by the new ones. It's pretty upsetting, actually - I totally regret seeing the movies - I won't say they ruined the franchise for me, but they definitely changed it to something else.

I totally agree, which was why I was so stoked when I realized that "my Sam" was entirely mine. Terrible, I'm sure, but still mine. That said, I loved the movies.

No images or sounds of my own were overwritten by the movies. My hobbit voices remain my own. My dwarfs already sounded like John Rhys Davies. (Reading the Hobbit aloud was an adventure in itself, because keeping 13 distinct scottish accents straight in my mind was very tough. The only one I could keep track of was Thorin, who had to sound regal. The rest of them kind of fell into a generic gutteral brogue)

For some reason, all my goblin voices come out sounding like Wallace Shawn. I'm not sure why.

The closest thing to an exception I can think of is now whenever I read Gandalf I hear Ian McKellan. But he was so close to how I already pictured the character, I couldn't tell you if it had been overwritten or not. The man forever owns the role for me.

I think I lucked out, because Jackson's vision of Middle Earth was so close to what was already in my head (with a few notable exceptions-- I had a hard time swallowing what Jackson did to Faramir and Denethor, and I'm sorry but the way he changed the Ent storyline was inexcusable).

Kudos are due to you, Mr. Murdoch, for encouraging your daughter to make the world her own before she sees the movies. Kids need imagination, and nothing kills it like laziness.

Julian makes me wonder why I or anyone else should bother writing about video games. My own pittly reviews or blogs seem like the musings of an adolescnet just grasping sentence construction by comparrison.

As far as the movies, show her the cartoons, their lameness will make the text more astounding.

doubtingthomas396 wrote:

I think I lucked out, because Jackson's vision of Middle Earth was so close to what was already in my head.

In general, I agree. My sense of what Rivendell looks like, for example, and the forming of the fellowship, all that rang very true to my internal images. But oddly, my sense of what things look like in the shire is vastly more like Turbine's than Jacksons. I think that's particularly true of the Old Forest and Tom Bombadil.

Thanks for the kind words everyone.

Kudos on holding off on the movie. I've seen a lot of parents do that... 'Oh, this is a classic? Well let's plop the kids in front of the TV for 12 excruciating trilogy hours while we drink highballs in the kitchen.'

Glad to hear you're still reading to yours.

"This is what it looks like Jen," I mutter to the concrete walls and the numbing hum of computer fans.

This is some creepy sh*t. You spend all day reading Tolkien to your daughter, extolling the virtues of owning one personal and deeply private interpretation of a scene, then after she's asleep bathe yourself in the shuddering sickly glow of your dirty secret Frankenstein version in the basement.

You have a sinister obsession with Middle Earth.

Your wife thinks you're working down there.

spoiler wrote:

[color=white]Great article[/color]

Thanks for a wonderful article.

My mother and I read the Hobbit together when I was in the third grade, and it got me hooked Tolkien, not to mention on reading real books instead of just comics. I'll be springing it on my 3rd grader this year.

Dammit rabbit, you've got to stop this. I was very certain I never wanted kids and that parenting is only rewarding in the movies. Stop destroying my world view!

Jerk.

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