Gandalf Comes Knocking, copyright Alan Lee
I’m reading The Hobbit to my kids, because in a month’s time, it will be a completely different experience. Although it’ll be a while before they can watch the film, the pictures in my own mind, conjured up from Tolkien’s phrases, will be subsumed by Peter Jackson’s vision. Before long, in our imaginations, all dwarves will be of the absurdly coiffured variety.
Not that I begrudge Sir Peter the most maddening hairdos since Padme gave Leia’s buns a run for their money – one of the challenges of the novel is differentiating the thirteen dwarves from each other, and even from still shots it’s possible to see how Jackson has imbued each with their own peculiar characteristics. Because, certainly, the novel is not easy to read to a four- and a six-year-old – as it was written in the thirties, it does contain the occasional archaic phrase that modern children might struggle to understand. It’s necessary to read it in an ebullient manner just to hold their attention.
That said, my children seem to be really enjoying it. At least, they don’t want me to stop when it’s bed time (though that may be because of their reluctance to go to sleep). They like the names of the dwarves, especially, or moments such as the instance where the trolls call each other ‘boobies.’ They liked counting the dwarves as they arrived. They like the promise of elves, goblins and dragons to come. It’s worth investing in an illustrated edition, though, because punctuating the prose with pictures seems to help keep a young audience interested. You could argue that Alan Lee‘s interpretation is likely to influence the reader’s imagination as surely as Peter Jackson’s (especially as he is also one of the concept artists working on the movie), but his beautiful paintings are so dreamlike that they serve to guide rather than dictate.
For me, the imminent release of the movie has encouraged a return to the original texts of The Lord of the Rings, novels I fell in love with as a teenager but haven’t picked up for decades. While I adored Jackson’s wondrous films, I’m enjoying reacquainting myself with Tolkien’s original words. I’m discovering what a wonderful nature writer the Professor was, reminiscent of the poet Edward Thomas, and in his descriptions of Hobbits and the Shire, particularly Tom Bombadil’s sanctuary, I’m finding solace in this crazy, busy, demanding world. As the world gets more complex, as Noble Smith has said in articles on this site, there’s much to be said for a life of simple pleasures – friendship, ale, hearty food and long walks. If my sons only take one phrase from The Hobbit, I hope it’s this line of Thorin’s:
“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”
