Falling In Love With A Totally New Hobbit

One of the seminal events of my life was when a friend loaned me his paperback copy of The Hobbit in Junior High.  While I had read Fantasy novels before, J. R. R. Tolkien’s story was wholly different from anything I had encountered before.  One of the first things I did, after I finished the book and gave it back to him, was buy my own copy.  Then I read it again.

Perhaps because the story remains so precious to me, I felt somewhat reluctant to see "The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey" in the cinema.  This is nothing against Peter Jackson: I had, for the most part, enjoyed his adaptations of The Lord of the Rings.  Of all the filmmakers out there, he was the one I most trusted to bring Tolkien’s story to the big screen.  Yet I told myself not to expect too much from the adaptation, and put off seeing it. 

Sitting in the cinema, there were aspects of the movie I loved, such as the look of Bilbo’s house and Hobbiton.  I loved the way Jackson brought the dwarves to life, giving them each their own personalities.  I loved the way he way he captured the silliness of the dwarves’ song as they hurled Bilbo’s precious plates and saucers while they clean up after themselves.  I loved the visual scope of Bilbo, Gandalf, and the dwarves journey across the incredible landscape of Middle Earth (which some insist is really New Zealand). 

Yet, there were also aspects that kept me at a distance from the movie as I watched it.  By adding so much to the story, it seemed as if Jackson slowed the pace to a crawl.  Perhaps because I saw it in 2D, or because it had been filmed at 48 frames per second, I felt like I was seeing too much: every scene looked like it was taking place on a set, and refused to blend into the background.  He added extra characters and situations that I didn’t remember, that made the movie darker, and more in keeping with the tone of The Lord of the Rings.  But most of all, I kept on expecting certain scenes to play out a given way, only for the characters to surprise me, and resolve the momentary conflict in a different fashion.  I couldn’t believe my memory of those scenes was faulty: clearly Jackson was tinkering with Tolkien’s story, changing those precious moments in a way he felt superior for moviegoers.

How dare he tamper with Tolkienian perfection!

Although I wasn’t anxious to see it again, my wife asked for "The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey" for her birthday.  As we don’t have a 3D TV or Blu-ray player, we watched the 2D version of the film.  With this second viewing, I found that everything I loved about the movie remained the same, yet those aspects I had disliked faded away.  The pace seemed well adjusted to the story, and the additional scenes and characters, no doubt drawn from sources such as The Silmarillion, blended better into the overall story.  Likewise, the foregrounds and backgrounds blended together on my smaller screen, so I no longer felt as if I were watching actors on a physical set.  Most important, this time I found myself more accepting of the different way certain key scenes played out (at least from the way I remember them). 

I don’t know why, but sometimes aspects of a movie I disliked at first fade away with a repeated viewing.  If you love the novel, but experienced a similar reaction to "The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey" in the cinema, I suggest that you try a second viewing.  Perhaps, like me, you’ll find you enjoy it more the second time around.  As for me, watching the movie again made me want to read The Hobbit again.  I don’t think I will, because I don’t want to be comparing the novel with the second and third films while in the cinema, but now I feel drawn to make that second attempt at (and actually read all the way through) The Silmarillion.  I also want to read Terry Brooks’ High Fantasy novels again, like The Sword of Shannara.  Ooh, and I’d also like to reread Jim C. Hines' humorous Goblin trilogy, and…

Dragon Dave

A Real-Life Hobbit

My mother and our friend frequent a particular Denny’s.  They travel there to see a waitress they have befriended.  She looks after them well, and they only go there when she’s working.  They exchange Christmas cards and gifts with her, and one year, when we were spending Christmas with them, we attended a Christmas Eve service at her church.  I’m not sure that my wife and I ever hoped to forge such a strong relationship with the staff at our local Denny’s, but we found one waiter we always looked forward to seeing.  I can only wonder at what might have developed, had the manager chosen to value us as well, instead of making us feel unwanted.

My mother had told me that they would be collecting The Hobbit cards for me at Denny’s, and the first night of their visit, she handed me an envelope.  I opened it to find a thick stack of cards.  I hurriedly dug out my own cards, and went through her stack.  Although she had many that were the same as mine, in some cases multiple examples, I ended up with three new cards.  This meant that I had nine out of the ten regular cards.  As I had never hoped to receive one of the two Limited Edition cards, I only needed one more to complete my set.  If I didn’t get it, I figured nine out of ten was pretty good.  More importantly, I had Bilbo Baggins, who along with Gandalf, are the two characters from the novel that mean the most to me.

The dwarves Balin and Fili,
and my first hobbit friend, Bilbo Baggins,
have graced my humble home. 

Of course, the cards are really just something fun to collect.  So, although we thought of dining at a Denny’s while in Florida, we opted for restaurants we couldn’t visit as easily back home.  But on Christmas Eve, when my mother offered to take us out to lunch at Denny’s, I didn’t complain.  I figured they would most likely be out of packs, as the movie had been out in theaters for a while.  Still, I held out hope of getting that final card.

We selected another Denny’s within easy driving distance.  Our waiter laughed and joked with us as he took our order.  My mother and friend asked about the cards, and explained that I had nearly completed my set.  Although he didn’t seem to think they had any left, he promised to look.  We ordered three meals off The Hobbit menu, and midway through our lunch, he came by and solemnly placed a pack of cards before me.  “I scrounged up a final pack for you,” he told me.  I thanked him, grateful that he had searched on my behalf.  Then he reached into a pocket and withdrew another packet.  “Don’t tell anyone, but I took these from my own collection.”  My eyes widened: I hadn’t asked him to do that!  Staring down at me so somberly, he dug into his pocket one final time…and withdrew a third pack of cards.  “Ha ha, there you are my friend,” he announced.  Bursting into laughter, he bent down, clutching his fists, and did a little dance.  “I’m looking forward to seeing what cards you get,” he told me, when his merriment subsided.  I started to open one pack.  He laid a hand on my shoulder.  “No, wait, enjoy your meal first,” he told me.

After we finished eating, I opened the packs, and he leaned close to watch.  The first pack, and then the second, contained only cards I already possessed.  Then, on the third, I got a Limited Edition Frodo card.  I lifted both hands into the air in celebration, and he cheered with me, laughing, clutching his hands into fists, and doing his little dance again.  When we rose to leave, my mother asked him if he would be there in a couple weeks.  He asked, “What happens then, another prediction from Nostradamus that the world will end?” and laughed again.  “No, my son’s having his birthday,” my mother replied.  “Come in, and I’ll give you a really nice breakfast,” he told me.  “And I’ll keep an eye out for those two last cards you need.”

Getting that Limited Edition card certainly took me by surprise.  The food at Denny’s tasted great, and thanks to his attentive service and jovial attitude, dining there with my mother and our friend proved a pleasant and memorable experience.  Is it too much to hope that we might forge a relationship with this particular restaurant, and become friends with this kind and considerate waiter?  He might not burst into song while he serves us, or juggle plates and cups with skill and panache, but he seems like someone I’d like to know better.  Perhaps, even befriend.

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

The Return of the Hobbit: Part 2

A Tale of Two Quests

The Return of The Hobbit: Part 1

Three decades ago, a friend pressed a paperback into my hands.  The novel was The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien, and it told the story of Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit whose life is changed forever when he meets a human wizard named Gandalf.  Reading the story opened my eyes to everything that a good fantasy novel could be.

I’ve never read just one kind of literature, although Science Fiction has always been a strong favorite.  I know I must have read Fantasy novels before this, but The Hobbit transcended everything else I had read that even approached that type of literature.  I’ve read hundreds, if not thousands of Fantasy novels since then, and I’ve enjoyed many of them.  But I’m not sure I’ve ever read another Fantasy novel that had quite as great an impact upon me. 

Not everyone feels that way about The Hobbit.  In fact, most people don’t.  Even J. R. R. Tolkien later grew dissatisfied with The Hobbit.  He pursued a darker vision with his next novel, and in the process created an infinitely more complex world for The Lord of the Rings (which was then split into three books and labeled a trilogy by publishers).  I sought out The Lord of the Rings shortly after finishing The Hobbit.  But I found myself unable to embrace the latter work with the same enthusiasm as I had the original. 

The Hobbit reads a whimsical, engaging serial.  It reminds me of a story told over a campfire, invented on the spur of the moment, with only the storyteller’s wits and the expectation in his audience’s eyes to propel him toward its completion.  The Lord of the Rings, on the other hand, seems like a conglomeration of interrelated stories.  As Tolkien lavished so much love and care upon his characters and Middle Earth, some of the best stories didn't actually make it into the novel. (Thankfully, Tolkien included these in the appendices he included at the end of the third installment, The Return of the King).  My recollection, from reading Humphrey Carpenter’s biographical work The Inklings, is that The Lord of the Rings grew beyond Tolkien’s ability to complete, and it was only through the help of his son Christopher that he eventually assembled it into its final form.  Director Peter Jackson is largely recognized as having assembled The Lord of the Rings into a more coherent, and more entertaining version of the novel (or, if you prefer, the trilogy). 

I can’t offer you my opinion on the above assertion, as I haven’t read The Lord of the Rings in many years, certainly not since I’ve seen the movies.  But I read The Hobbit a couple years ago, when my wife gave me a new hardcover edition, complete with some beautiful illustrations.  While that reading couldn’t compare with my first eye-opening experience, it was wonderful to accompany Bilbo Baggins again on a journey that changed him forever.  For I too was transformed by the imaginative and lighthearted story.  In an instant, J. R. R. Tolkien made me want to read other stories as great as The Hobbit.  Eventually, he inspired me to write my own.

Dragon Dave