Tolkien Tuesdays: Re-Reading "The Lord of the Rings": "Prologue"
In his Prologue to "The Lord of the Rings," Tolkien combines anthropology, foreshadowing, and world building to set the stage for the epic to come.
Welcome to Tolkien Tuesdays, where I talk about various things that I love about the lore and writings of Tolkien, whether in a chapter reading or a character study or an essay. I hope you enjoy reading these ruminations as much as I enjoy writing them and, if you have a moment, I’d love it if you’d subscribe to this newsletter. It’s free, but there are paid options, as well, if you’re of a mind to support a struggling writer. Either way, thank you for joining me!
If there’s one thing that even Tolkiens’ critics have to acknowledge, it’s that he does a fantastic job building up his secondary world. This much is clear from the very first words of “The Prologue” to The Lord of the Rings which is, in many ways, a richly-textured anthropology about the hobbits and the Shire that they call home. In a relatively small number of pages, we learn about the various “breeds” of hobbit (and it still strikes me as somewhat odd to refer to them with this specific word, but I digress), their ingenuity in putting pipeweed into pipes, and their general characteristics at the time the story is about to take place.
There is, I think, something peculiarly comforting about this part of The Lord of the Rings. Tonally, it is not entirely dissimilar to The Hobbit, in that it is more light-hearted than heavy. It’s hard not to smile, for example, when the narrator notes that “they liked to have books filled with things that they already knew, set out fair and square with no contradictions” (7). It’s not condescending, exactly, but it does nevertheless give us a very good idea of just what kind of people hobbits are and how, despite their extraordinary toughness and rich history of wandering, they remain parochial and inward looking, determined to hold onto their little corner of peace and prosperity against an outside world.
Even in this introductory chapter, however, there are already signs of a darkness to come. Among other things, the narrator remarks that, by the time that the novel takes place, the hobbits had begun to distance themselves more and more from the Elves with whom they had come into contact, and that they “turned their faces away from the hills in the west” (7). Somewhat later, the narrator remarks goes on to note that “there were many reports and complaints of strange persons and creatures prowling about the orders, or over them: the first sign that all was not quite as it should be, and always had been except in the tales and legends of long ago” (10). What I love about these passages are the way that they give us just the faintest taste of foreboding and foreshadowing. Though we don’t yet know what will come to pass in the pages ahead, we know that it’s not going to be as we, or the hobbits, might like it to be. Indeed, things are about to happen that will thrust the hobbits onto the stage of History itself.
Indeed, this chapter is also concerned with history with a capital “H,” both that of the hobbits themselves and of the wider world of which they are (reluctantly) a part. Though the hobbits clearly prefer to be left out of the affairs of the great and powerful, they also make a point of showing their loyalty to the king that had once ruled at Fornost, even going so far as to claim that they sent a band of men to fight in his war against the Witch-king. Though the records of Arnor and Gondor contain no references to such, it has clearly become a key part of the hobbits’ conception of themselves, and it suggests that, for all of their isolationism, they still have a belief in their own way of doing things, there’s still a desire to be understood as historical actors.
Equally striking is the way that the Quest for Erebor, which played such a pivotal role in the life of Bilbo and, because of his discovery of the One Ring, could actually have been little more than a footnote. Given the extent to which we, as readers, were invited to witness the events of the novel of The Hobbit, this can seem rather jarring, and it is a potent reminder of the vastness of Middle-earth and of the relative unimportance of the hobbits. At the same time, it is also a reminder of just how important the role of chance is in Tolkien’s legendarium. If it hadn’t been for luck (if that’s what it was), Bilbo and the rest of the hobbits might never have been more than a largely forgotten race.
The entire section detailing Bilbo’s finding of the Ring is itself a fascinating little story. It not only contends with the several competing narratives concerning the exact circumstances but also, as importantly, gestures to this world’s internal consistency. Take, for example, the narrator’s invocation of the “Authorities,” who have reached something of an impasse as to whether Bilbo’s query about what might be in his pocket constitutes a riddle in the strictest sense of the term or whether it’s merely a question. It’s such a fascinating little aside, particularly since we don’t get any more elucidation on who the Authorities were, why they were weighing in on the question in the first place, and how the narrator got hold of their point of view. It’s one of those moments at which Tolkien so excels, teasing us with something yet withholding the full scope of the picture.
Every time I read this opening segment, I’m also struck by Tolkien’s loving attention to textual detail. It’s one thing to pretend to be a translator bringing an arcane book into the modern world; it’s quite another to give that book its own rich textual history. Indeed, the very end of the Prologue is committed to telling us about how the volume in question came to be, as well as the various archives that the hobbits created in the aftermath of the War of the Ring. It’s really quite fascinating, and it tells us not only a great deal about the book we’re about to read but also about the world and the people that produced it. It’s this attention to detail, I think, that continues to give The Lord of the Rings a type of intellectual and creative heft that is so rare to find, even in the fantasy genre. There is a completeness to his creation that truly allows you to lose yourself in his fictional creation. It’s also quite fascinating to read about Merry’s subsequent literary career. Talk about versatility!
The Prologue manages to capture the right balance among light-hearted fun, imminent darkness, and rich historical and anthropological texture. We get a distinct sense of the book that we’re about to read and the world that we’re about to enter. This chapter makes it clear that this both is and is not the same world that we encountered in The Hobbit. The stage is set for the long-expected birthday party for everyone’s favorite hobbit.
Stay tuned for next week’s entry, when we’ll be discussing that party and its unexpected consequences!