Chapter 6: The Old Forest
Jacob's Thoughts (3/6/14)
So.
Fun Fact: After I first saw Fellowship of the Ring in the theater, a friend of mine who was reading the series for the first time asked me excitedly how the film portrayed Tom Bombadil, and was crestfallen to learn the movie had utterly cut him out. Apparently Mr. Bombadil really is a favorite among some readers, go figure! I'm sure we'll get much more into this anomalous, eminently-excisable character with next week's chapter, but for now it's worth noting that Tom seems to genuinely resonate with at least some people (just not me).
I suppose I should be warmer to the possibilities of this character, at least as he relates to my favorite theme of a light-shining-through-the-darkness in Lord of the Rings; for here, in the heart of the suffocating darkness of this hostile forest, where even the trees themselves mischievously alter your paths, disorient your direction, drug you to sleep, then try to entrap and murder you, this carefree man just wanders in like a ray of sunlight right when you need him most, to free your friends and lead you out of the Old Forest like it was his own backyard. Again, the darkness is worst than you think, but nor is it ever as total. It's a good theme to keep returning to.
Nevertheless, this chapter simply doesn't work for me. In contrast to my old friend, I personally was relieved to see that Peter Jackson had the good sense to trim this episode out of the film (though could you imagine what would have happened if Jackson had been allowed the same sprawling freedom for Fellowship as he was for The Hobbit? One shudders...). To borrow Ben's phrase, this chapter is the worst sort of "wheel-spinning," in how it artificially raises stakes, only to promptly deflate them without consequence or ever bring them up again. It's like Tolkien had built up all this danger and menace surrounding the Old Forest, then forgot how to execute on it.
Moreover, this idea of menacing, conscious trees is executed much more effectively later on with the Ents, so here it just feels like a dull dry run. There's a fine line between tension and tedium, and this chapter crosses it. I suppose this chapter is performative, because whatever the Old Forest did to make the hobbits fall asleep put me to sleep, too.
It was at this point as a 10-year-old that I nearly gave up on Lord of the Rings for good. Glad I didn't, but this particular chapter, even after finding so many other things to respect about the previous chapters this time around, and after a lifetime of experience and countless books read and earning degrees and graduate degrees in English, still bores me as much today as it did when I was 10.
I'm taking a graduate seminar on Eco-Criticism this semester, so I suppose I should find it interesting how the ecosystem here is literally imbued by Tolkien with consciousness and vitality and vibrant matter, and how the trees themselves develop hostility against us bipeds who violate and destabilize the ecosystem, as mother nature turns on us after we have turned on her, and etc (also, it is rather troubling to consider that when the hobbits chopped down the invading trees, they were in fact murdering sentient beings--which massacre is especially unconscionable when one considers how Tom Bombadil has apparently learned to co-exist easily with them); nevertheless, I cannot summon the theoretical interest to perform an Eco-Critical reading here. This chapter will always be a chore to get through, and the quicker we get to the good stuff, the better.
Eric's Thoughts (3/12/14)
Wow. I have to agree with a post Ben made earlier about some of these middling chapters. This chapter makes chloroform taste like caffeine.
Responses to Jacob and Ben:
Jacob: "There's a fine line between tension and tedium, and this chapter crosses it. I suppose this chapter is performative, because whatever the Old Forest did to make the hobbits fall asleep put me to sleep, too."
Ben's Thoughts (3/12/14)
I hated, hated hated the Old Forest chapters when reading LOTR as a child and teenager. I couldn't understand why these chapters were necessary, and only read them because of some (perhaps misguided) notion of loyalty towards the Professor -- the sense that I needed to read every word of the LOTR to get the full experience, even if I didn't think some particular words were worth too much.
So what was my impression this time around? I read "The Old Forest" and "In the House of Tom Bombadil" back-to-back this time around, because I missed my deadlines last week, and was somewhat pleased to find redeeming qualities in them. Now, don't get me wrong. In the greater context of The Lord of the Rings, I don't think that this segment (especially "The Old Forest" chapter, believe it or not above and beyond the coming "In the House" chapter), is necessary to the plot, themes, and forward movement of the book. As Jacob points out, this sort of nature vs. human progression commentary is done better down the line with Fangorn Forest and the Ents, and here it just seems like a test drive. But viewed separately, as its own pair (or perhaps really trio) of self-contained chapters -- a mini-short story, embedded in the text of Book 1 -- it is really quite lovely.
Because the prose in this chapter is quite beautiful. From the initial description of the trees, to the "swirling eddies" of Bonfire Glade, to the bare knob of a hilltop where the Hobbits eat lunch, to the shifting lights of the Withywindle, every description in this chapter is monstrously evocative. Despite my disinterest in reading this chapter as a kid, between those readings and this week's, I could tell you every step that the Hobbits took in the wood and how exactly they came to the riverside where they meet old Tom. Because Tolkien is just that good at conjuring up images inside our heads of what and where his characters are doing.
For example:
Nevertheless, these descriptions do not entirely redeem this chapter. The paragraph above evokes emotions of calm and comfort and a lazy Sunday afternoon relaxing in a sunlit glade -- a far cry from the sinister feeling that I believe Tolkien wanted to evoke with the Hobbits' encounter with "Old Man Willow" towards the end of the chapter. The contrast is jarring and not very effective. Besides, what kind of a name is "Old Man Willow" for a villain? It's hard to be terrified by a wicked old tree, especially when he never speaks or directly interacts with Our Heroes beyond his sleep spell.
So all in all a very beautiful but a very flawed chapter -- and that's before it takes a steep right turn and veers off in an entirely different direction with the introduction of Tom Bombadil. I'll give Tom this -- he certainly knows how to make an entrance. His song is distinctive -- and quite annoying. I think the singing threw me off of the Tom fanwagon more than anything else. I'll talk more about Tom in my analysis of the next chapter. I will note that it is interesting that Tom's singing seems to have such power. It ties nicely back to the fact that in Tolkien's legendarium, the earth and cosmos were created via the singing of "God" (Eru) and his spirit creations (the Ainur). I guess Tom carries on the tradition here.
About the Hobbits -- they don't really seem to have thought this plan through very well. They're cutting through the Old Forest to -- wait for it -- join back up with the east road as soon as possible on the other side? I guess they just have no idea about the ability, number, or intelligence of the Riders. Either that or Frodo was just concerned with having no Hobbit learn that he was leaving the Shire more than anything else. I think the Hobbits' naivete is highlighted by Strider in Bree, so hopefully we'll get to that in a few chapters.
Merry retains his take-charge attitude for a few pages, but then abruptly becomes foolish and incompetent and easily overcome by the Willow's sleep-song. Tolkien just can't pin down these Hobbits' personalities. Still no physical descriptions. I've all but given up hope on that score. There is also a jarring shift in point of view -- from semi-omniscient third-person to limited third person (Frodo's POV) and then bouncing again, within the space of a page or two, over to Sam (still limited third-person). Surely Tolkien could have done better.
As a comment on Jacob's eco-criticism, it is interesting how the Hobbits' rural domesticity was so threatened by the encroaching wild. Of course, as Tolkien presents it, the trees' absolute wildness is wholly evil, or at least chaotically evil, and the Hobbits are presented in a positive light for retaliating and containing the otherness. There is a sense of nostalgia in the next chapter when Tom comments on how the Old Forest is but a remnant of far greater woods, but there's no conveyance of how the Hobbits' destruction of trees and pushing back the Forest is a bad thing. However, as Jacob pointed out, it was adding insult to injury for the Hobbits to burn the trees (at the Bonfire Glade) inside the Forest itself. Couldn't they have done it elsewhere? No wonder the trees haven't grown back into the Glade. The Hobbits were really quite violent in their response. I don't get the sense that Tolkien was all that fond of letting nature just grown wild -- he seems much more sympathetic to Tom's neatly cultivated and tended-to semi-wilderness between Forest and barrow-downs. The change in the river seems to give his game away: in the Forest, it is brown, slow-moving, stagnant; while by Tom's house it has become "swift and merry." Tolkien liked things that were light and high and clear, not quiet and drowsy (note again the stars -- Frodo's link to Elbereth and the Valar -- mentioned as hanging over Tom's house as the Hobbits arrive).
More on Tom and Goldberry tomorrow. While "The Old Forest" wasn't that fun to read, except for the beautiful descriptions, it was fun to write about.
So.
Fun Fact: After I first saw Fellowship of the Ring in the theater, a friend of mine who was reading the series for the first time asked me excitedly how the film portrayed Tom Bombadil, and was crestfallen to learn the movie had utterly cut him out. Apparently Mr. Bombadil really is a favorite among some readers, go figure! I'm sure we'll get much more into this anomalous, eminently-excisable character with next week's chapter, but for now it's worth noting that Tom seems to genuinely resonate with at least some people (just not me).
I suppose I should be warmer to the possibilities of this character, at least as he relates to my favorite theme of a light-shining-through-the-darkness in Lord of the Rings; for here, in the heart of the suffocating darkness of this hostile forest, where even the trees themselves mischievously alter your paths, disorient your direction, drug you to sleep, then try to entrap and murder you, this carefree man just wanders in like a ray of sunlight right when you need him most, to free your friends and lead you out of the Old Forest like it was his own backyard. Again, the darkness is worst than you think, but nor is it ever as total. It's a good theme to keep returning to.
Nevertheless, this chapter simply doesn't work for me. In contrast to my old friend, I personally was relieved to see that Peter Jackson had the good sense to trim this episode out of the film (though could you imagine what would have happened if Jackson had been allowed the same sprawling freedom for Fellowship as he was for The Hobbit? One shudders...). To borrow Ben's phrase, this chapter is the worst sort of "wheel-spinning," in how it artificially raises stakes, only to promptly deflate them without consequence or ever bring them up again. It's like Tolkien had built up all this danger and menace surrounding the Old Forest, then forgot how to execute on it.
Moreover, this idea of menacing, conscious trees is executed much more effectively later on with the Ents, so here it just feels like a dull dry run. There's a fine line between tension and tedium, and this chapter crosses it. I suppose this chapter is performative, because whatever the Old Forest did to make the hobbits fall asleep put me to sleep, too.
It was at this point as a 10-year-old that I nearly gave up on Lord of the Rings for good. Glad I didn't, but this particular chapter, even after finding so many other things to respect about the previous chapters this time around, and after a lifetime of experience and countless books read and earning degrees and graduate degrees in English, still bores me as much today as it did when I was 10.
I'm taking a graduate seminar on Eco-Criticism this semester, so I suppose I should find it interesting how the ecosystem here is literally imbued by Tolkien with consciousness and vitality and vibrant matter, and how the trees themselves develop hostility against us bipeds who violate and destabilize the ecosystem, as mother nature turns on us after we have turned on her, and etc (also, it is rather troubling to consider that when the hobbits chopped down the invading trees, they were in fact murdering sentient beings--which massacre is especially unconscionable when one considers how Tom Bombadil has apparently learned to co-exist easily with them); nevertheless, I cannot summon the theoretical interest to perform an Eco-Critical reading here. This chapter will always be a chore to get through, and the quicker we get to the good stuff, the better.
Eric's Thoughts (3/12/14)
Wow. I have to agree with a post Ben made earlier about some of these middling chapters. This chapter makes chloroform taste like caffeine.
Fatty Bolger is an entirely pointless character. I started laughing out loud just thinking about how stupid Tolkien was to include Fatty in the journey to the hedge, only to watch Fatty Bolger halt and say, “Goodbye, Frodo!” “I wish you were not going into the Forest.” Perhaps we will see later what critical role Fatty plays later on, but I am skeptical about this pathetic attempt at a character.
Merry seems to be the most interesting character so far. He competently gets them through the hedge, and into the Old Forest, and maintains himself as the true leader in the group. But how easily he gets caught by the Old Man Willow undercuts this. So characterization seems shaky at this point for the characters, besides Pippin, who consistently plays the airhead by shouting at dangerous man-eating trees.
The tree subplot was kind of funny, I guess, but since the chapter was bogged down with serious pacing problems, I think it should have been a cut. For those of you who don’t remember, the tree subplot story reveals that the hobbits many years ago battle Old Forest frees, and burnt them with fire, until the Trees finally gave up attacking the hedgerow.
In terms of writing technique, one thing I noticed that I thought was really cool was how Tolkien puts the reader in the forest scene. Notice what Tolkien does is not describe the individual steps a character is taking, but the overall atmosphere of the place. Description, then feeling. Well done, Mr. Tolkien.
They picked a way among the trees, and their ponies plodded along, carefully avoiding the many writhing and interlacing roots. There was no undergrowth. The ground was rising steadily, and as they went forward it seemed that the trees became taller, darker, and thicker. There was no sound, except an occasional drip of moisture falling through the still leaves. For the moment there was no whispering or movement among the branches; but they all got an uncomfortable feeling that they were being watched with disapproval, deepening to dislike and even enmity. The feeling steadily grew, until they found themselves looking up quickly, or glancing back over their shoulders, as if they expected a sudden blow.
One quote brought me directly back to the Hobbit. “What a foul thing to happen!” cried Frodo wildly. “Why did we ever come into this dreadful Forest? I wish we were all back at Crickhollow!” This copy could be pasted directly from the Hobbit, if the name were changed to Bilbo: Oh me, oh my, I wish I had never left my hobbit hole!
Okay, finished reading. So, after reading this chapter as a whole, there wasn’t really any character development, and there wasn’t really any tension at all until the Old Man Willow shows up and tries to eat the hobbits.
Now, perhaps this chapter might have carried more depth if it introduced us to a critical character in the story, i.e. Tom Bombadil. But the problem is, as I recall, Tom has nothing else to do with the story except for a quick mention in the Council of Elrond, when Elrond notes that the ring doesn’t affect Tom, but that he would probably lose it, or forget about it.
Overall, I found myself skimming this chapter, which is the first time I’d felt the inclination to do that. So I have to agree with Jacob on this one: this chapter should have been cut, or made significantly shorter. The writing wasn’t bad on a micro level—the descriptions and moods were compelling—but structurally the chapter was lacking in poignancy and purpose until the latter fourth of it. And since I already know that none of these scenes carry any weight later on in the story, I probably would have just had the hobbits take a backroad into Bree, instead of this elaborate (and not particularly interesting) subplot with no overarching purpose.
I’m intrigued by Tom at this point, because I don’t remember the character very well, but still I think this chapter should have been cut, and probably the next as well. We shall see.
Responses to Jacob and Ben:
Jacob: "There's a fine line between tension and tedium, and this chapter crosses it. I suppose this chapter is performative, because whatever the Old Forest did to make the hobbits fall asleep put me to sleep, too."
Lol! I think Jacob nailed it with this zingy one liner. Plus Jacob likes some pretty deadly boring books (cough cough Ulysses), so if you're boring Jacob, you're probably doing something wrong.
Ben: "About the Hobbits -- they don't really seem to have thought this plan through very well. They're cutting through the Old Forest to -- wait for it -- join back up with the east road as soon as possible on the other side?"
Lol again. Anyway, I have to agree with Ben, and as I noted before I read the others' blog posts, the descriptions in this chapter can be quite good. So Tolkien is definitely stepping up his game after sparse descriptions of the Shire.
And "While "The Old Forest" wasn't that fun to read, except for the beautiful descriptions, it was fun to write about." This I have to agree with as well. Making fun of this sad excuse of a chapter was probably the most fun I've had yet blogging this stuff.
Descriptive Phrases:
- "The leaves of trees were glistening, and every twig was dripping; the grass was grey with cold dew."
- "The hobbits began to feel very hot. There were armies of flies of all kinds buzzing round their ears, and the afternoon sun burning their backs."
- "Frodo lifted his heavy eyes and saw leaning over him a huge will-tree, old and hoary. Enormous it looked, its sprawling branches going up like reaching arms with many long-fingered hands, its knotted and twisted trunk gaping in wide fissures that creaked faintly as the boughs moved. The leaves fluttering against the bright sky dazzled him, and he toppled over, lying where he fell upon the grass."
- "White mists began to rise and curl on the surface of the river and stray about the roots of the trees upon its borders."
Ben's Thoughts (3/12/14)
I hated, hated hated the Old Forest chapters when reading LOTR as a child and teenager. I couldn't understand why these chapters were necessary, and only read them because of some (perhaps misguided) notion of loyalty towards the Professor -- the sense that I needed to read every word of the LOTR to get the full experience, even if I didn't think some particular words were worth too much.
So what was my impression this time around? I read "The Old Forest" and "In the House of Tom Bombadil" back-to-back this time around, because I missed my deadlines last week, and was somewhat pleased to find redeeming qualities in them. Now, don't get me wrong. In the greater context of The Lord of the Rings, I don't think that this segment (especially "The Old Forest" chapter, believe it or not above and beyond the coming "In the House" chapter), is necessary to the plot, themes, and forward movement of the book. As Jacob points out, this sort of nature vs. human progression commentary is done better down the line with Fangorn Forest and the Ents, and here it just seems like a test drive. But viewed separately, as its own pair (or perhaps really trio) of self-contained chapters -- a mini-short story, embedded in the text of Book 1 -- it is really quite lovely.
Because the prose in this chapter is quite beautiful. From the initial description of the trees, to the "swirling eddies" of Bonfire Glade, to the bare knob of a hilltop where the Hobbits eat lunch, to the shifting lights of the Withywindle, every description in this chapter is monstrously evocative. Despite my disinterest in reading this chapter as a kid, between those readings and this week's, I could tell you every step that the Hobbits took in the wood and how exactly they came to the riverside where they meet old Tom. Because Tolkien is just that good at conjuring up images inside our heads of what and where his characters are doing.
For example:
"As if through a gate they saw the sunlight before them. . . . A golden afternoon of late sunshine lay worm and drowsy upon the hidden land between. In the midst of it there wound lazily a dark river of brown water, bordered with ancient willows, arched over with willows, blocked with fallen willows, and flecked with thousands of faded willow-leaves. The air was thick with them, fluttering yellow from the branches; for there was a warm and gentle breeze blowing softly in the valley, and the reeds were rustling, and the willow-boughs were creaking."Don't tell me you don't have a picture in your mind of that river after that paragraph. If so, you are completely devoid of imagination.
Nevertheless, these descriptions do not entirely redeem this chapter. The paragraph above evokes emotions of calm and comfort and a lazy Sunday afternoon relaxing in a sunlit glade -- a far cry from the sinister feeling that I believe Tolkien wanted to evoke with the Hobbits' encounter with "Old Man Willow" towards the end of the chapter. The contrast is jarring and not very effective. Besides, what kind of a name is "Old Man Willow" for a villain? It's hard to be terrified by a wicked old tree, especially when he never speaks or directly interacts with Our Heroes beyond his sleep spell.
So all in all a very beautiful but a very flawed chapter -- and that's before it takes a steep right turn and veers off in an entirely different direction with the introduction of Tom Bombadil. I'll give Tom this -- he certainly knows how to make an entrance. His song is distinctive -- and quite annoying. I think the singing threw me off of the Tom fanwagon more than anything else. I'll talk more about Tom in my analysis of the next chapter. I will note that it is interesting that Tom's singing seems to have such power. It ties nicely back to the fact that in Tolkien's legendarium, the earth and cosmos were created via the singing of "God" (Eru) and his spirit creations (the Ainur). I guess Tom carries on the tradition here.
About the Hobbits -- they don't really seem to have thought this plan through very well. They're cutting through the Old Forest to -- wait for it -- join back up with the east road as soon as possible on the other side? I guess they just have no idea about the ability, number, or intelligence of the Riders. Either that or Frodo was just concerned with having no Hobbit learn that he was leaving the Shire more than anything else. I think the Hobbits' naivete is highlighted by Strider in Bree, so hopefully we'll get to that in a few chapters.
Merry retains his take-charge attitude for a few pages, but then abruptly becomes foolish and incompetent and easily overcome by the Willow's sleep-song. Tolkien just can't pin down these Hobbits' personalities. Still no physical descriptions. I've all but given up hope on that score. There is also a jarring shift in point of view -- from semi-omniscient third-person to limited third person (Frodo's POV) and then bouncing again, within the space of a page or two, over to Sam (still limited third-person). Surely Tolkien could have done better.
As a comment on Jacob's eco-criticism, it is interesting how the Hobbits' rural domesticity was so threatened by the encroaching wild. Of course, as Tolkien presents it, the trees' absolute wildness is wholly evil, or at least chaotically evil, and the Hobbits are presented in a positive light for retaliating and containing the otherness. There is a sense of nostalgia in the next chapter when Tom comments on how the Old Forest is but a remnant of far greater woods, but there's no conveyance of how the Hobbits' destruction of trees and pushing back the Forest is a bad thing. However, as Jacob pointed out, it was adding insult to injury for the Hobbits to burn the trees (at the Bonfire Glade) inside the Forest itself. Couldn't they have done it elsewhere? No wonder the trees haven't grown back into the Glade. The Hobbits were really quite violent in their response. I don't get the sense that Tolkien was all that fond of letting nature just grown wild -- he seems much more sympathetic to Tom's neatly cultivated and tended-to semi-wilderness between Forest and barrow-downs. The change in the river seems to give his game away: in the Forest, it is brown, slow-moving, stagnant; while by Tom's house it has become "swift and merry." Tolkien liked things that were light and high and clear, not quiet and drowsy (note again the stars -- Frodo's link to Elbereth and the Valar -- mentioned as hanging over Tom's house as the Hobbits arrive).
More on Tom and Goldberry tomorrow. While "The Old Forest" wasn't that fun to read, except for the beautiful descriptions, it was fun to write about.
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