So Tolkein is a philologist by trade. Not a claim many can make, but okay, one has to write something on
a business card. The story goes Tolkein began to ask himself the sort
of academic question that philologists apparently ask themselves in
their off hours: "Just for grins -- could I create a language of my
own?" I think I can appreciate the appeal of this mental exercise.
Syntax, grammar, vocabulary -- what's not to love? And having just
returned from an extended stay in Scandinavia, is it so hard to guess
what existing language Tolkein's iinvented one resembled?
He
must have been pretty pleased with the outcome. It shook loose a string
of successive questions: "Who speaks this language?", "Where do they
live?", "What's the architecture and botany like there?" These are the
sorts of world-building questions Tolkein answered with style and
aplomb. Few authors before Tolkein equal him in the creation of
immersive diagesis. Few authors after Tolkein can escape the crushing
burden of his excellence.
Accounts of his writing process, however, indicate the final question he asked himself was "What do these people do ?" That is, to say, of all the stuff required of authors, the last and least of Tolkein's concerns was plot.
Go ahead. Review the books or the movies. It's impossible to defend the plot as anything but linear and pedestrian. Fellowship is
particularly frustrating in this regard since it almost never cuts away
from the main character to offer a "meanwhile on the other side of the
forest..." perspective. Thus, the simple structure might be summarized
"ring here; volcano there. 1000 freaking pages (or 12 hours of film) in
between." It's not a very inventive plot (and, frankly, could be
circumvented pretty early on if only those giant eagles could fly in
both directions).
Let me be clear. This simplistic
narrative doesn't disqualify the trilogy as great literature. We like
episodic quest structures (The Wizard of Oz. Pilgrim's Progress).
In fact, its plot probably helps cement its reputation as great
literature -- for adolescents. Recall the age at which you first
encountered Middle Earth. 12? 13? It makes perfect sense that so many
people develop their first Frodo-crush in early high school. Tolkein
is the perfect bridge between the books of childhood and adult fiction.
All the detailed settings of Inception with the easy-to-swallow plot of, say, Goodnight Moon.
But how does one explain the abiding affection for Tolkein that follows
readers from high school into later life? I submit that the
35-year-olds who took their children to see the films reveled in -- not
high art -- but nostalgia. They loved the way they felt, the
people they were, the optimism they possessed, when they read Tolkein
for the first time. And they wanted to pass that on. They want another
generation of readers to catch fire as they themselves did. Don't we
all love it when our friends or children enjoy a book we've recommended?
I don't begrudge anyone their cultic worship at Tolkein's altar.
Indeed, a part of me enjoys the films as a benchmark of the medium's
capacity (though that will surely pass as technology makes new images
possible). But mature, intricate storytelling? Nah...
