Time spent reading:
6/12: 6:00pm-6:20pm
6/15: 10:30am-10:52am
Total time: 42 minutes
54 pages
Ballantine Books
Published in 1969
Oh the incredible prolificness of J.R.R. Tolkien. The man spent just a few years on The Hobbit and well over 30 more on The Lord of the Rings; most people who are avid readers know this, but the man also wrote many, many, many more legends, lays, tales, some revolving around Middle Earth, and others involving Britain in general. Smith of Wootton Major is one of those fairy tales of England stories.
The tale starts off as any fairy tale would,
There was a village once, not very long ago for those with long memories, nor very far away for those with long legs.
Tolkien's Smith begins with a quaint fairy tale quality, and maintains that relationship between the reader and the principal characters in the story throughout all 50+ pages. Much like each fairy tale, there are only a handful of characters, each one with some major, overarching trait: mysterious, trusting, hopeful, cruel, etc... Sadly, this tale feels more thrown together than anything, but considering this was towards the end of his writing career, post-LOTR, I can see why he would not want to spend the time and effort into delicately crafting a story as intricately woven as the Middle Earth saga.
Regardless, it is cute, full of elaborate parties, fantastic cakes, people from the land of Faerie, an even-star, an a few wonderful principle characters. Throughout reading, I could see how this tale could have possibly spawned a series of books telling the future quests of the even-star and the land of Faerie, but why go into all of that? Tolkien wrote it short and left it short for a reason. Truly, there is not much allegory like some people like to read into many fantasy works. You must take this book for what it is: the story of a quiet, fumbling child who grows into a lively adult through the land of Faerie. It's a story of great hopes, aspirations, loves and responsibility, a story everyone should read.
Time spent reading:
6/15: 11:02am-11:55am
Total time: 53 minutes
91 pages
Ballantine Books
Published in 1949
The first time I read Farmer Giles of Ham was at the Borders midnight release party of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I vaguely remember sitting on a stool with this book, eagerly awaiting the fourth installment of wizard mania; I remember it was an odd tale, one of a talking dog and a farmer who fell into a predicament with a dragon. Little did I know how good the story truly is.
Tolkien's studies lead him to various languages, Latin, Greek, and Anglo-Saxon; he was a linguist after all, but these languages further sent him to the specific stories told in those languages, whether it was the epic story of Beowulf or the lays of old Nordics. More than anything, Tolkien wanted to discover a true creation story of England. America had one. Even France has one! But the British? No story has ever been found. He wanted to feel that England's own creation story was as grand as others; this also was the progeny of LOTR.
We know that Farmer Giles of Ham comes to us as one possible creation of England. How? The foreword tells us! This is not some preface by some well-known modern author; it is by Tolkien himself. Farmer Giles is written as if Tolkien discovered the original text in Latin, and here it is translated for all of us to see. Tolkien writes, retells, and analyzes the tale as it is told. There are numerous instances of Tolkien switching from Latin to "the vulgar" so that we may follow along.
Farmer Giles begins as an accidental hero, a lazy sluggard who manages to shoo a giant away for a few years, and, who later discovers himself surrounded by fame and glory, grows reluctant to be heroic anymore, especially when a dragon appears on the doorsteps of Little Kingdom Ham. I found this to be quite humorous and satirical, as it seems to be the exact opposite of Beowulf. There, a proud hero emerges, one who vanquishes great monsters, dragons, and inevitably gives his life to protect others. Farmer Giles does none of these; in fact, he cowers for quite a while, making excuses as he goes, but somehow manages to come out the victor towards the end, no help from a seemingly enchanted sword...
Farmer Giles of Ham was a pleasure to reread; this time I paid more attention. It merely quenches my thirst for more things Tolkien. Watch out blogosphere, more fantasy is coming up. I'm sure of it!
Happy reading.
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