Friday, September 10, 2010

Bored of the Rings

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...

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