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I recently reread The Hobbit (after having read The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion). My first impulse was to check to what extent Peter Jackson’s adaptation to the screen was faithful to the original novel. In the process, I was surprised by the scope and length of this book, one of the first of Tolkien’s attempts at describing his imaginary world of Middle Earth.
It is said that he wrote this book as a nursery rhyme for his children. But I have the feeling that, in so doing, much of the outlines of his later novels were already in progress: the narratives, the myths, the geography, the races, the speeches and songs that Tolkien would later develop. In other words, The Hobbit feels like an elaborate sketch of what would later be The Lord of the Rings. Bilbo and the thirteen dwarves being but forerunners of The Fellowship of the Ring; Smaug and the mountain of Erebor heralding Sauron and the volcano of Orodruin (note the similarities of these names); the One Ring itself (just a magic invisibility ring in The Hobbit) still being in the shade of the Arkenstone: it seems that Tolkien hadn’t yet devised what it would become in later developments of his fantasy. But in the end, all the seeds are already there for the greater epic trilogy.
Jemima Catlin’s illustrations in this edition have a very naive quality that feels refreshing, a sort of comeback to Tolkien’s original paintings, after the elaborate lush of Alan Lee and John Howe’s artwork. As for Peter Jackson: it appears that the first movie doesn’t stray much from the book. The second film, however, takes liberties with Tolkien’s narrative (especially towards the end), which seem quite unnecessary. The third instalment is an utter disgrace.
It is said that he wrote this book as a nursery rhyme for his children. But I have the feeling that, in so doing, much of the outlines of his later novels were already in progress: the narratives, the myths, the geography, the races, the speeches and songs that Tolkien would later develop. In other words, The Hobbit feels like an elaborate sketch of what would later be The Lord of the Rings. Bilbo and the thirteen dwarves being but forerunners of The Fellowship of the Ring; Smaug and the mountain of Erebor heralding Sauron and the volcano of Orodruin (note the similarities of these names); the One Ring itself (just a magic invisibility ring in The Hobbit) still being in the shade of the Arkenstone: it seems that Tolkien hadn’t yet devised what it would become in later developments of his fantasy. But in the end, all the seeds are already there for the greater epic trilogy.
Jemima Catlin’s illustrations in this edition have a very naive quality that feels refreshing, a sort of comeback to Tolkien’s original paintings, after the elaborate lush of Alan Lee and John Howe’s artwork. As for Peter Jackson: it appears that the first movie doesn’t stray much from the book. The second film, however, takes liberties with Tolkien’s narrative (especially towards the end), which seem quite unnecessary. The third instalment is an utter disgrace.