by J. R. R. Tolkien; Christopher Tolkien; Humphrey Carpenter
At 5.30 on Friday I faced quite a large concourse in an assembly hall. Apparently over 200 (largely ordinary people) had paid to be present, and many had been turned away. Professor Harting was even more astonished than I was. The dinner was cenainly 'abundant and prolonged': the latter, because the speeches were interleaved between the courses. In the event they were all in English; and all but one quite sensible (if one deducts the high pitch of the eulogy, which was rather embarrassing). The exception was a lunatic phycholog, but the able chairman held him to five minutes. My final reply was I hope adequate, and was I believe audible; but I need not dwell on it. It was partly a parody of Bilbo's speech in Chapter I.
In this home of 'smoking', pipe-weed seems specially to have caught on. There were clay pipes on the table and large jars of tobacco – provided, I believe, by the firm of Van Rossem. The walls were decorated with Van Rossem posters over-printed Pipe-weed for Hobbits: In 3 qualities: Longbottom Leaf, Old Toby, and Southern Star. V. Rossem has since sent me pipes and tobacco ! I carried off one of the posters. You might like to see it. ....
I cannot thank you enough for providing me with this short but memorable expedition – the only one I am likely to get after all out of my 'leave' – and for gently pressing me to go.
207 From a letter to Rayner Unwin
[Negotiations were proceeding with the American film company. The synopsis of the proposed film of The Lord of the Rings was the work of Morton Grady Zimmerrnan.]
8 April 1958
Zimmerman – 'Story-Line'
Of course, I will get busy on this at once, now that Easter is over, and the Dutch incense is dissipated. Thank you for the copy of the Story-line, which I will go through again.
I am entirely ignorant of the process of producing an 'animated picture' from a book, and of the jargon connected with it. Could you let me know exactly what is a 'story-line', and its function in the process?
It is not necessary (or advisable) for me to waste time on mere expressions if these are simply directions to picture-producers. But this document, as it stands, is sufficient to give me grave anxiety about the actual dialogue that (I suppose) will be used. I should say Zimmerman, the constructor of this s-l, is quite incapable of excerpting or adapting the 'spoken words' of the book. He is hasty, insensitive, and impertinent.
He does not read books. It seems to me evident that he has skimmed through the L.R. at a great pace, and then constructed his s.l. from partly confused memories, and with the minimum of references back to the original. Thus he gets most of the names wrong in form – not occasionally by casual error but fixedly (always Borimor for Boromir); or he misapplies them: Radagast becomes an Eagle. The introduction of characters and the indications of what they are to say have little or no reference to the book. Bombadil comes in with 'a gentle laugh'! ....
I feel very unhappy about the extreme silliness and incompetence of Z and his complete lack of respect for the original (it seems wilfully wrong without discernible technical reasons at nearly every point). But I need, and shall soon need very much indeed, money, and I am conscious of your rights and interests; so that I shall endeavour to restrain myself, and avoid all avoidable offence. I will send you my remarks, particular and general, as soon as I can; and of course nothing will go to Ackerman except through you and with at least your assent.
208 From a letter to C. Ouboter, Voorhoeve en Dietrich, Rotterdam
10 April 1958
As for 'message': I have none really, if by that is meant the conscious purpose in writing The Lord of the Rings, of preaching, or of delivering myself of a vision of truth specially revealed to me! I was primarily writing an exciting story in an atmosphere and background such as I find personally attractive. But in such a process inevitably one's own taste, ideas, and beliefs get taken up. Though it is only in reading the work myself (with criticisms in mind) that I become aware of the dominance of the theme of Death. (Not that there is any original 'message' in that: most of human art & thought is similarly preoccupied.) But certainly Death is not an Enemy! I said, or meant to say, that the 'message' was the hideous peril of confusing true 'immortality' with limitless serial longevity. Freedom from Time, and clinging to Time. The confusion is the work of the Enemy, and one of the chief causes of human disaster. Compare the death of Aragorn with a Ringwraith. The Elves call 'death' the Gift of God (to Men). Their temptation is different: towards a fainéant melancholy, burdened with Memory, leading to an attempt to halt Time.
209 From a letter to Robert Murray, SJ.
[Murray wrote to Tolkien asking if 'I could pick your brains about "holy" words'. He wanted to know Tolkien's views on the original meaning of, and relationships between, the various words for 'holy' in the Indo-European languages.]
4 May 1958
These problems concerning the 'original' meanings of words (or families of formally connected words) are fascinating: strictly – that is: alluring, but not necessarily by a wholesome attraction! I often wonder what use (except historical: knowledge or glimpses of what words have meant and how they have changed in fact so far as ascertainable) we gain by such investigations. It is practically impossible to avoid the vicious circle of discovering from word-histories, or supposed histories, 'primitive' meanings and associations, and then using these for tracing histories of meaning. Is it not possible to discuss the 'meaning' now of 'sanctity' (for instance) without reference to the history of the meaning of the word-forms now employed in that meaning? The other way round seems rather like describing a place (or stage in a journey) in terms of the different routes by which people have arrived there, though the place has a location and existence quite independent of these routes, direct or more circuitous.
In any case in an historical enquiry we are obliged to deal simultaneously with two variables each in motions that are independent fundamentally, even when affecting one another 'accidentally': the meanings and associations of meaning are one, and the word-forms another, and their changes are independent. The word-form can go through a whole cycle of change, until it is phonetically unrecognizable without measurable change of meaning; and at any moment without any change in phonetics 'the meaning' of a 'word' may change. Quite suddenly63 (as far as the evidence goes) yelp which meant 'to speak proudly', and was especially used of proud vows (such as a knight vowing to do some dangerous deed) stopped meaning that and became used of the noise of foxes or dogs! Why? At any rate, not because of any change in ideas about vaunts or animals! It is a long way from ὀδοντ- to tooth, but the changes of form have not much affected the meaning (nor has tine the equivalent of dent- moved very far).64
We do not know the 'original' meaning of any word, still less the meaning of its basic element (sc. the pan it shares with or seems to share with other related words: once called its 'root'): there is always a lost past. Thus we do not know the original meaning of θέος or deus or god. We can, of course, make some guesses about the formation of these three quite distinct words, and then try to generalize a basic meaning from the senses shown by their relatives – but I do not think we shall necessarily by that way get any nearer to the idea 'god' at any actual moment in any language using one of these words. It is an odd fact that English dizzy (olim dysig) and giddy (olim gydig) seem related to θέος and god respectively. In English they once meant 'irrational', and now 'vertiginous', but that does not help much (except to cause us to reflect that there was a long past before θέος or god reached their forms or senses and equally queer changes may have gone on in unrecorded ages). We may, of course, guess that we have a remote effect of primitive ideas of 'inspiration' (to the 18th C[entury] an enthusiast was much what an Anglo-Saxon would have called a dysiga!). But that is not of much theological use? We are faced by endless minute parallels to the mystery of incarnation. Is not the idea of god ultimately independent of the ways by which a word for it has come to be?65 whether through √dh(e)wes (which seems to refer basically to stirring and excitement); or √d(e)jew (which seems to refer basical
ly to brightness (esp. of the sky)); or possibly (it is a mere guess) √ghew cry, – god is originally neuter and is supposed to 'mean' that which is invoked: an old past participle. Possibly a taboo-word. The old deiwos word (which produced dīvus, deus) survives only in Tuesday.66
If he has to tackle such a word as holy, the old-fashioned philologist (such as I am) looks first at the history of the form. According to rules laboriously elaborated (and I think certainly valid within limits67) he will say what it improbably formally related to. But he cannot wholly escape the quicksand of semantics. Before he proposes a relationship (that is an actual historical nexus of change) between holy and other words in the same language (or in other believed to be related to English) he will want both a phonologically possible kinship, and some 'possible kinship' in sense. All the time he will be uneasily aware of two things found in linguistic experience: (1) that there seem always to have been 'homophones', or 2 (or more) phonetically indistinguishable elements that possessed distinct senses and are therefore 'different words',68 like I[ndo]-E[uropean] stems men 'stick out', and men 'think'; and (2) that semantic change is sometimes violent, and in the dark past may have operated without leaving evidence of its occurrence. For instance the formal equivalence of √sequ in Greek ἕπομαι and Latin sequor (and other languages) meaning 'follow' is exact with Germanic sekw – stem of a verb : but this means 'to see'. Which is to have most weight: the form or the sense? He cannot decide finally on the evidence; though fiddling in an amateur way with 'semantics' he can make the sense-jump seems less impossible than it looks at first, by referring to the uses of 'follow'= 'understand', and to the fact that I-E words for see (as indeed our see) often mean, or the same 'bases' may mean, 'know', 'understand'. (This is particularly true of the √WID base: Latin video has its exact equivalent in O.E. witian 'watch, guard'; but Ϝοἰδα (= Latin vīdī) in O.E. wāt 'wot', 'I know'.) But probably, if he finds Germanic salwo- (our sallow) and Latin salvus (saluos), he will decide that there is no bridge between 'dirty yellow' and 'safe and sound'; so that either some thing is wrong with the phonological equation, or that he is dealing with 'homophones'. (There is always also the possibility that either sallow or salvus did not descend from a common antiquity – words can be invented, or borrowed and may closely resemble older words in either case.) The formal equivalent (the only known one) of our harp is Latin corbis. (The Romance arpa etc. are borrowed from Germanic.) But the poor philologist will have to call on some archaeological expert before he can decide whether any relationship between 'harps' and 'baskets' is possible – supposing Gmc. harpō always meant 'harp' or corbi-s always meant 'wicker basket'! corbīta means a fat-bellied ship.
210 From a letter to Forrest J. Ackerman [Not dated; June 1958]
[Tolkien's comments on the film 'treatment' of The Lord of the Rings.]
I have at last finished my commentary on the Story-line. Its length and detail will, I hope, give evidence of my interest in the matter. Some at least of the things that I have said or suggested may be acceptable, even useful, or at least interesting. The commentary goes along page by page, according to the copy of Mr Zimmerman's work, which was left with me, and which I now return. I earnestly hope that someone will take the trouble to read it.
If Z and/or others do so, they may be irritated or aggrieved by the tone of many of my criticisms. If so, I am sorry (though not surprised). But I would ask them to make an effort of imagination sufficient to understand the irritation (and on occasion the resentment) of an author, who finds, increasingly as he proceeds, his work treated as it would seem carelessly in general, in places recklessly, and with no evident signs of any appreciation of what it is all about. ....
The canons of narrative an in any medium cannot be wholly different ; and the failure of poor films is often precisely in exaggeration, and in the intrusion of unwarranted matter owing to not perceiving where the core of the original lies.
Z .... has intruded a 'fairy castle' and a great many Eagles, not to mention incantations, blue lights, and some irrelevant magic (such as the floating body of Faramir). He has cut the parts of the story upon which its characteristic and peculiar tone principally depends, showing a preference for fights; and he has made no serious attempt to represent the heart of the tale adequately: the journey of the Ringbearers. The last and most important pan of this has, and it is not too strong a word, simply been murdered.
[Some extracts from Tolkien's lengthy commentary on the Story Line:]
Z is used as an abbreviation for (the writer of) the synopsis. References to this are by page (and line where required); references to the original story are by Volume and page.
2. Why should the firework display include flags and hobbits? They are not in the book. 'Flags' of what? I prefer my own choice of fireworks.
Gandalf, please, should not 'splutter'. Though he may seem testy at times, has a sense of humour, and adopts a somewhat avuncular attitude to hobbits, he is a person of high and noble authority, and great dignity. The description on I p. 239 should never be forgotten.
4. Here we meet the first intrusion of the Eagles. I think they are a major mistake of Z, and without warrant.
The Eagles are a dangerous 'machine'. I have used them sparingly, and that is the absolute limit of their credibility or usefulness. The alighting of a Great Eagle of the Misty Mountains in the Shire is absurd; it also makes the later capture of G. by Saruman incredible, and spoils the account of his escape. (One of Z's chief faults is his tendency to anticipate scenes or devices used later, thereby flattening the tale out.) Radagast is not an Eagle-name, but a wizard's name; several eagle-names are supplied in the book. These points are to me important.
Here I may say that I fail to see why the time-scheme should be deliberately contracted. It is already rather packed in the original, the main action occurring between Sept. 22 and March 25 of the following year. The many impossibilities and absurdities which further hurrying produces might, I suppose, be unobserved by an uncritical viewer; but I do not see why they should be unnecessarily introduced. Time must naturally be left vaguer in a picture than in a book; but I cannot see why definite time-statements, contrary to the book and to probability, should be made. ....
Seasons are carefully regarded in the original. They are pictorial, and should be, and easily could be, made the main means by which the artists indicate time-passage. The main action begins in autumn and passes through winter to a brilliant spring: this is basic to the purport and tone of the tale. The contraction of time and space in 2 destroys that. His arrangements would, for instance, land us in a snowstorm while summer was still in. The Lord of the Rings may be a 'fairy-story', but it takes place in the Northern hemisphere of this earth: miles are miles, days are days, and weather is weather.
Contraction of this kind is not the same thing as the necessary reduction or selection of the scenes and events that are to be visually represented.
7. The first paragraph misrepresents Tom Bombadil. He is not the owner of the woods; and he would never make any such threat.
'Old scamp!' This is a good example of the general tendency that I find in Z to reduce and lower the tone towards that of a more childish fairy-tale. The expression does not agree with the tone of Bombadil's long later talk; and though that is cut, there is no need for its indications to be disregarded.
I am sorry, but I think the manner of the introduction of Goldberry is silly, and on a par with 'old scamp'. It also has no warrant in my tale. We are not in 'fairy-land', but in real river-lands in autumn. Goldberry represents the actual seasonal changes in such lands. Personally I think she had far better disappear than make a meaningless appearance.
8 line 24. The landlord does not ask Frodo to 'register'! Why should he? There are no police and no government. (Neither do I make him number his rooms.) If details are to be added to an already crowded picture, they should at least fit the world described.
9. Leaving the inn at night and running off into the dark is an impossible solu
tion of the difficulties of presentation here (which I can see). It is the last thing that Aragorn would have done. It is based on a misconception of the Black Riders throughout, which I beg Z to reconsider. Their peril is almost entirely due to the unreasoning fear which they inspire (like ghosts). They have no great physical power against the fearless; but what they have, and the fear that they inspire, is enormously increased in darkness. The Witch-king, their leader, is more powerful in all ways than the others; but he must not yet be raised to the stature of Vol. III. There, put in command by Sauron, he is given an added demonic force. But even in the Battle of the Pelennor, the darkness had only just broken. See III 114.
10. Rivendell was not 'a shimmering forest'. This is an unhappy anticination of Lórien (which it in no way resembled). It could not be seen from Weathertop : it was 200 miles away and hidden in a ravine. I can see no pictorial or story-making gain in needlessly contracting the geography.
Strider does not 'Whip out a sword' in the book. Naturally not: his sword was broken. (Its elvish light is another false anticipation of the reforged Anduril. Anticipation is one of Z's chief faults.) Why then make him do so here, in a contest that was explicitly not fought with weapons?
11. Aragorn did not 'sing the song of Gil-galad'. Naturally: it was quite inappropriate, since it told of the defeat of the Elven-king by the Enemy. The Black Riders do not scream, but keep a more terrifying silence. Aragorn does not blanch. The riders draw slowly in on foot in darkness, and do not 'spur'. There is no fight. Sam does not 'sink his blade into the Ringwraith's thigh', nor does his thrust save Frodo's life. (If he had, the result would have been much the same as in III 117-20: the Wraith would have fallen down and the sword would have been destroyed.)