What happens? Frodo and Co escape from the Dark Forest with the help of their new friend, Tom Bombadil. After a stay at his house they continue their journey towards the village of Bree, taking a rest at the Prancing Pony Inn. However, during some drunken shenanigans, Frodo accidentally puts the Ring on his finger which puts up a “Come and Get Me” sign in big, neon letters for the hooded figures. It’s only with the help of Strider, a friend of Gandalf’s, that they manage to escape for a time. Until the hooded figures corner them, and stab Frodo in the shoulder with a cursed blade. He must be hurried to Elrond, the Elf Lord, in order to save him or he may face a fate worse than death.

Up until now, the world of Middle Earth has been a setting that I’ve admired more than enjoyed. I can recognize just how huge and well thought out it is, but it didn’t capture my fascination in the same way settings like the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender has. Part of that might be because I’ve experienced so many other worlds that mimic the flavor of Middle Earth that it just doesn’t have the same spice for me that it did for other people. However, two things helped open my eyes: the first settlement outside of the Shire and the introduction of a new character. The town of Bree, in many ways, has the same small town charm as the Shire, but the diversity of its citizens means that it feels a lot more active and interesting than you would first think. The conversations in The Prancing Pony give a real sense of culture and history that is tangibly different from The Green Dragon, and even assholes like Bill Ferny have a different feel from people like the Sackville-Bagginses. It really shows just how big a place Middle Earth is when even two small towns have a completely different feel from each other.

Though the thing that really captured my attention was Tom “Why wasn’t he in any of the films” Bombadil. While Tom is just a bit player in the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s a complete joy to be around. Every action he takes and every word he says he’s on the verge of breaking into song and dance. That energy is contagious as all hell, even in his quiet moments. However, it’s when I think about the subtext that I get excited. It’s clear from his first appearance that he’s a powerful person and has abilities that dwarf even Gandalf’s. The scene where he puts on the Ring to no effect is stuck in my head because it does such a great job at showing just how powerful he is. However, enough information about him is kept from the audience allowing us to come up with various theories and head canons that make exploring these kinds of fantasy worlds such a treat. Tolkien’s worldbuilding might be over-detailed in some areas, but he clearly understands that some things work better when left to the audience.

Things aren’t all feasts of cream and bread though, because this section also marks the point where the characters are in the trenches. The fact that parts of Lord of the Rings were inspired by Tolkien’s experiences during WWI was always in the back of my mind, but this is where that influence started to appear. When Aragorn comes into the picture, his years of experience makes it clear that even Frodo is still just a rookie with little idea of what lays ahead. This is given even more weight when I look at Pippin and how he fails to grasp just how much danger they’re in. He continues to treat everything with a sense of brevity and ignorant courage. Meanwhile, Sam, despite not knowing much either, understands enough to have a healthy feeling of fear. This feeling came to a head during the Rider’s attack on the party. The entire sequence has the characters jumping at any noise, staring out into the darkness, trying everything they have to keep a bead on their enemy which still doesn’t prepare them for when the Riders finally strike. The unknown has come out from the shadows and how it affects the cast going forward is something I’m excited to see.

This time, I want to focus my prose analysis on a bit of dialogue from Tom Bombadil, something that might not even seem that big, but I think shows just how creative Tolkien is with prose.

“‘Ring a ding dillo! Wake now, my merry friends! Forget the nightly noises! Ring a ding dillo del! Derry del, my hearties! If you come soon you’ll find breakfast on the table. If you come late you’ll get grass and rain-water!’”

Most of the time, when an author wants to give the impression that a character has a sing-songey way of speaking, they’ll use adverbs or just say “they have a sing-songey way of speaking.” Tolkien, on the other hand, makes use of onomatopoeia to achieve this effect. He also adds to it in a way that gives Tom’s dialogue a nice tempo that comes out even stronger if you read it aloud. The creativity of the prose makes for an experience that, while exhausting in long bursts, feels so unique compared to the multitude of Tolkien copycats.

The first half of Book 1 was an interesting experience for me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t bored in some places. Part of that is because it’s been a while since I’ve read something this slow paced, but I think a bigger part of it was that I needed to put myself in the right mindset. I needed to stop expecting things to happen quickly and to just sit back and allow the atmosphere of the world to sweep me up. This happens with some stories where I need to find the right “wavelength” to truly get into a work and while it means my initial experience might not be the most enjoyable, it also means that the experience will often be one of the most rewarding I’ve had. That’s how I’d describe these chapters: rewarding. If you’ve put more into the book and really given it your full attention, then it will give an experience that feels both unique and familiar.