I find this procedure puzzling, because the letter and the list seem totally pointless unless my opinion and criticism is invited. But if this is its object, then surely the timing is both unpractical and impolite, presented together with a pistol: 'we are going to start the composition now'. Neither is my convenience consulted: the communication comes out of the blue in the second most busy academic week of the year. I have had to sit up far into the night even to survey the list. Conceding the legitimacy or necessity of translation (which I do not, except in a limited degree), the translation does not seem to me to exhibit much skill, and contains a fair number of positive errors.61 Even if excusable, in view of the difficulty of the material, I think this regrettable, & they could have been avoided by earlier consultation. It seems to me fairly evident that Dr.O. has stumbled along dealing with things as he came to them, without much care for the future or co-ordination, and that he has not read the Appendices62 at all, in which he would have found many answers. ....
I do hope that it can be arranged, if and when any further translations are negotiated, that I should be consulted at an early stage without frightening a shy bird off the eggs. After all, I charge nothing, and can save a translator a good deal of time and puzzling; and if consulted at an early stage my remarks will appear far less in the light of peevish criticisms.
I see now that the lack of an 'index of names' is a serious handicap in dealing with these matters. If I had an index of names (even one with only reference to Vol. and chapter, not page) it would be a comparatively easy matter to indicate at once all names suitable for translation (as being themselves according to the fiction 'translated' into English), and to add a few notes on points where (I know now) translators are likely to trip. ....
This 'handlist' would be of great use to me in future corrections and in composing an index (which I think should replace some of the present appendices); also in dealing with The Silmarillion (into which some of the L.R. has to be written backwards to make the two coherent). Do you think you could do anything about this?
205 From a letter to Christopher Tolkien
[Christopher Tolkien, now a university lecturer at Oxford, gave a paper to a society at St Anne's College on 'Barbarians and Citizens', his subject being the heroes of northern legend as seen in different fashion by Germanic poets and Roman writers. His father was present at the reading of the paper.]
21 February 1958 I think it was a very excellent performance. It filled me with great delight: first of all because it was so interesting that, after a day (for me) of unceasing labour & movement, I never desired to close my eyes or abstract my mind for a second and I felt that all round me; and secondly because of parental pride. (Not that I think that this sensation is really one of the hwelpes of e liun at all: it is a legitimate satisfaction with the least possible of egotism in it (there is never none) to feel that one has not wholly failed in one's appointed part, and has paid forward at least a part of the debt one owes backward.) It was enormously successful, and I realize now why you hold audiences. There was, of course, life and vividness in your phrases, but you are clear, generally unemphatic and let your stuff speak for itself by sheer placing and shaping. All the same, I suddenly realized that I am a pure philologist. I like history, and am moved by it, but its finest moments for me are those in which it throws light on words and names! Several people (and I agree) spoke to me of the an with which you made the beady-eyed Attila on his couch almost vividly present. Yet oddly, I find the thing that really thrills my nerves is the one you mentioned casually: atta, attila. Without those syllables the whole great drama both of history and legend loses savour for me or would.
I do not know what I mean, because 'aesthetic' is always impossible to catch in a net of words. Nobody believes me when I say that my long book is an attempt to create a world in which a form of language agreeable to my personal aesthetic might seem real. But it is true. An enquirer (among many) asked what the L.R. was all about, and whether it was an 'allegory'. And I said it was an effort to create a situation in which a common greeting would be elen sla lmenn' omentieimo, and that the phase long antedated the book. I never heard any more. But I enjoyed myself immensely and retire to bed really happy. It was obvious that the ball is right at your toes, so far as the total sphere of the academic world is concerned. (Actually I think it of vast nobility and importance.)
206 From a letter to Rayner Unwin
[At the end of March 1958, Tolkien visited Holland at the invitation of the Rotterdam booksellers Voorhoeve en Dietrich; his travelling expenses were paid by Allen & Unwin. He attended a 'Hobbit Dinner' at which he gave a speech. One item on the menu was 'Maggot Soup', an intended allusion to Farmer Maggot's mushrooms in The Lord of the Rings.]
8 April 1958 Since I had the remarkable, and in the event extremely enjoyable, experience in Holland by the generosity of 'A. and U.', I think some kind of report would be proper. I have had time to simmer down a bit, and recover some sense of proportion. The incense was thick and very heady; and the kindness overwhelming. My journey was very comfortable, and the reservations magnificent: the outward boat was packed, and the train from L[iverpool] Street went in two pans. I arrived in cold mist and drizzle, but by the time I had found my way to Rotterdam the sun was shining, and it remained so for two days. Ouboter of V[oorhoeve] and D[ietrich] was waving a Lord of the Rings and so easy to pick out of the crowd, but I did not fit his expectations, as he confessed (after dinner); my 'build-up' by letter had been too successful, and he was looking for something much smaller and more shy and hobbit-like.
(I thought he was charming and intelligent; but he was still a little upset about the hilarity caused by 'maggot-soup' on the Menu. It was, of course, mushroom soup; but he said he would not have chosen the name if he had known 'all the names of the English vermins'.) I met a representative of Het Spectrum, and saw a good deal of the depressing world of ruined and half-rebuilt Rotterdam. I think it is largely the breach between this comfonless world, with its gigantic and largely dehumanised reconstruction, and the natural and ancestral tastes of the Dutch, that has (as it seems) made them, in R[otterdam] especially, almost intoxicated with hobbits ! It was almost entirely of hobbits that they spoke.
At 5.30 on Friday I faced quite a large concourse in an assembly hall. Apparently over 200 (largely ordinary people) had paid to be present, and many had been turned away. Professor Harting was even more astonished than I was. The dinner was cenainly 'abundant and prolonged': the latter, because the speeches were interleaved between the courses. In the event they were all in English; and all but one quite sensible (if one deducts the high pitch of the eulogy, which was rather embarrassing). The exception was a lunatic phycholog, but the able chairman held him to five minutes. My final reply was I hope adequate, and was I believe audible; but I need not dwell on it. It was partly a parody of Bilbo's speech in Chapter I.
In this home of 'smoking', pipe-weed seems specially to have caught on. There were clay pipes on the table and large jars of tobacco provided, I believe, by the firm of Van Rossem. The walls were decorated with Van Rossem posters over-printed Pipe-weed for Hobbits: In 3 qualities: Longbottom Leaf, Old Toby, and Southern Star. V. Rossem has since sent me pipes and tobacco ! I carried off one of the posters. You might like to see it. ....
I cannot thank you enough for providing me with this short but memorable expedition the only one I am likely to get after all out of my 'leave' and for gently pressing me to go.
207 From a letter to Rayner Unwin
[Negotiations were proceeding with the American film company. The synopsis of the proposed film of The Lord of the Rings was the work of Morton Grady Zimmerrnan.]
8 April 1958 Zimmerman 'Story-Line'
Of course, I will get busy on this at once, now that Easter is over, and the Dutch incense is dissipated. Thank you for the copy of the Story-line, which I will go through again.
I am entirely ignorant of the process of producing an 'animated picture' from a book, and of the jargon connected with it. Could you let me know exactly what is a 'story-line', and its function in the process?
It is not necessary (or advisable) for me to waste time on mere expressions if these are simply directions to picture-producers. But this document, as it stands, is sufficient to give me grave anxiety about the actual dialogue that (I suppose) will be used. I should say Zimmerman, the constructor of this s-l, is quite incapable of excerpting or adapting the 'spoken words' of the book. He is hasty, insensitive, and impertinent.
He does not read books. It seems to me evident that he has skimmed through the L.R. at a great pace, and then constructed his s.l. from partly confused memories, and with the minimum of references back to the original. Thus he gets most of the names wrong in form not occasionally by casual error but fixedly (always Borimor for Boromir); or he misapplies them: Radagast becomes an Eagle. The introduction of characters and the indications of what they are to say have little or no reference to the book. Bombadil comes in with 'a gentle laugh'! ....
I feel very unhappy about the extreme silliness and incompetence of Z and his complete lack of respect for the original (it seems wilfully wrong without discernible technical reasons at nearly every point). But I need, and shall soon need very much indeed, money, and I am conscious of your rights and interests; so that I shall endeavour to restrain myself, and avoid all avoidable offence. I will send you my remarks, particular and general, as soon as I can; and of course nothing will go to Ackerman except through you and with at least your assent.
208 From a letter to C. Ouboter, Voorhoeve en Dietrich, Rotterdam
10 April 1958 As for 'message': I have none really, if by that is meant the conscious purpose in writing The Lord of the Rings, of preaching, or of delivering myself of a vision of truth specially revealed to me! I was primarily writing an exciting story in an atmosphere and background such as I find personally attractive. But in such a process inevitably one's own taste, ideas, and beliefs get taken up. Though it is only in reading the work myself (with criticisms in mind) that I become aware of the dominance of the theme of Death. (Not that there is any original 'message' in that: most of human art & thought is similarly preoccupied.) But certainly Death is not an Enemy! I said, or meant to say, that the 'message' was the hideous peril of confusing true 'immortality' with limitless serial longevity. Freedom from Time, and clinging to Time. The confusion is the work of the Enemy, and one of the chief causes of human disaster. Compare the death of Aragorn with a Ringwraith. The Elves call 'death' the Gift of God (to Men). Their temptation is different: towards a faineant melancholy, burdened with Memory, leading to an attempt to halt Time.
209 From a letter to Robert Murray, SJ.
[Murray wrote to Tolkien asking if 'I could pick your brains about "holy" words'. He wanted to know Tolkien's views on the original meaning of, and relationships between, the various words for 'holy' in the Indo-European languages.]
4 May 1958 These problems concerning the 'original' meanings of words (or families of formally connected words) are fascinating: strictly that is: alluring, but not necessarily by a wholesome attraction! I often wonder what use (except historical: knowledge or glimpses of what words have meant and how they have changed in fact so far as ascertainable) we gain by such investigations. It is practically impossible to avoid the vicious circle of discovering from word-histories, or supposed histories, 'primitive' meanings and associations, and then using these for tracing histories of meaning. Is it not possible to discuss the 'meaning' now of 'sanctity' (for instance) without reference to the history of the meaning of the word-forms now employed in that meaning? The other way round seems rather like describing a place (or stage in a journey) in terms of the different routes by which people have arrived there, though the place has a location and existence quite independent of these routes, direct or more circuitous.
In any case in an historical enquiry we are obliged to deal simultaneously with two variables each in motions that are independent fundamentally, even when affecting one another 'accidentally': the meanings and associations of meaning are one, and the word-forms another, and their changes are independent. The word-form can go through a whole cycle of change, until it is phonetically unrecognizable without measurable change of meaning; and at any moment without any change in phonetics 'the meaning' of a 'word' may change. Quite suddenly63 (as far as the evidence goes) yelp which meant 'to speak proudly', and was especially used of proud vows (such as a knight vowing to do some dangerous deed) stopped meaning that and became used of the noise of foxes or dogs! Why? At any rate, not because of any change in ideas about vaunts or animals! It is a long way from - to tooth, but the changes of form have not much affected the meaning (nor has tine the equivalent of dent- moved very far).64 We do not know the 'original' meaning of any word, still less the meaning of its basic element (sc. the pan it shares with or seems to share with other related words: once called its 'root'): there is always a lost past. Thus we do not know the original meaning of or deus or god. We can, of course, make some guesses about the formation of these three quite distinct words, and then try to generalize a basic meaning from the senses shown by their relatives but I do not think we shall necessarily by that way get any nearer to the idea 'god' at any actual moment in any language using one of these words. It is an odd fact that English dizzy (olim dysig) and giddy (olim gydig) seem related to and god respectively. In English they once meant 'irrational', and now 'vertiginous', but that does not help much (except to cause us to reflect that there was a long past before or god reached their forms or senses and equally queer changes may have gone on in unrecorded ages). We may, of course, guess that we have a remote effect of primitive ideas of 'inspiration' (to the 18th C[entury] an enthusiast was much what an Anglo-Saxon would have called a dysiga!). But that is not of much theological use? We are faced by endless minute parallels to the mystery of incarnation. Is not the idea of god ultimately independent of the ways by which a word for it has come to be?65 whether through dh(e)wes (which seems to refer basically to stirring and excitement); or d(e)jew (which seems to refer basically to brightness (esp. of the sky)); or possibly (it is a mere guess) ghew cry, god is originally neuter and is supposed to 'mean' that which is invoked: an old past participle. Possibly a taboo-word. The old deiwos word (which produced dvus, deus) survives only in Tuesday.66 If he has to tackle such a word as holy, the old-fashioned philologist (such as I am) looks first at the history of the form. According to rules laboriously elaborated (and I think certainly valid within limits67) he will say what it improbably formally related to. But he cannot wholly escape the quicksand of semantics. Before he proposes a relationship (that is an actual historical nexus of change) between holy and other words in the same language (or in other believed to be related to English) he will want both a phonologically possible kinship, and some 'possible kinship' in sense. All the time he will be uneasily aware of two things found in linguistic experience: (1) that there seem always to have been 'homophones', or 2 (or more) phonetically indistinguishable elements that possessed distinct senses and are therefore 'different words',68 like I[ndo]-E[uropean] stems men 'stick out', and men 'think'; and (2) that semantic change is sometimes violent, and in the dark past may have operated without leaving evidence of its occurrence. For instance the formal equivalence of sequ in Greek and Latin sequor (and other languages) meaning 'follow' is exact with Germanic sekw stem of a verb : but this means 'to see'. Which is to have most weight: the form or the sense? He cannot decide finally on the evidence; though fiddling in an amateur way with 'semantics' he can make the sense-jump seems less impossible than it looks at first, by referring to the uses of 'follow'= 'understand', and to the fact that I-E words for see (as indeed our see) often mean, or the same 'bases' may mean, 'know', 'understand'. (This is particularly true of the WID base: Latin video has its exact equivalent in O.E. witian 'watch, guard'; but (= Latin vd) in O.E. wt 'wot', 'I know'.) But probably, if he finds Germanic salwo- (our sallow) and Latin salvus (saluos), he will decide that there is no bridge between 'dirty yellow' and 'safe and sound'; so that either some thing is wrong with the phonological equation, or that he is dealing with 'homophones'. (There is always also the possibility that either sallow or salvus did not descend from a common antiquity words can be invented, or borrowed and may closely resemble older words in either case.) The formal equivalent (the only known one) of our harp is Latin corbis. (The Romance arpa etc. are borrowed from Germanic.) But the poor philologist will have to call on some archaeological expert before he can decide whether any relationship between 'harps' and 'baskets' is possible supposing Gmc. harp always meant 'harp' or corbi-s always meant 'wicker basket'! corbta means a fat-bellied ship.
210 From a letter to Forrest J. Ackerman [Not dated; June 1958]
[Tolkien's comments on the film 'treatment' of The Lord of the Rings.]
I have at last finished my commentary on the Story-line. Its length and detail will, I hope, give evidence of my interest in the matter. Some at least of the things that I have said or suggested may be acceptable, even useful, or at least interesting. The commentary goes along page by page, according to the copy of Mr Zimmerman's work, which was left with me, and which I now return. I earnestly hope that someone will take the trouble to read it.
If Z and/or others do so, they may be irritated or aggrieved by the tone of many of my criticisms. If so, I am sorry (though not surprised). But I would ask them to make an effort of imagination sufficient to understand the irritation (and on occasion the resentment) of an author, who finds, increasingly as he proceeds, his work treated as it would seem carelessly in general, in places recklessly, and with no evident signs of any appreciation of what it is all about. ....
The canons of narrative an in any medium cannot be wholly different ; and the failure of poor films is often precisely in exaggeration, and in the intrusion of unwarranted matter owing to not perceiving where the core of the original lies.
Z .... has intruded a 'fairy castle' and a great many Eagles, not to mention incantations, blue lights, and some irrelevant magic (such as the floating body of Faramir). He has cut the parts of the story upon which its characteristic and peculiar tone principally depends, showing a preference for fights; and he has made no serious attempt to represent the heart of the tale adequately: the journey of the Ringbearers. The last and most important pan of this has, and it is not too strong a word, simply been murdered.
[Some extracts from Tolkien's lengthy commentary on the Story Line:]
Z is used as an abbreviation for (the writer of) the synopsis. References to this are by page (and line where required); references to the original story are by Volume and page.
2. Why should the firework display include flags and hobbits? They are not in the book. 'Flags' of what? I prefer my own choice of fireworks.
Gandalf, please, should not 'splutter'. Though he may seem testy at times, has a sense of humour, and adopts a somewhat avuncular attitude to hobbits, he is a person of high and noble authority, and great dignity. The description on I p. 239 should never be forgotten.
4. Here we meet the first intrusion of the Eagles. I think they are a major mistake of Z, and without warrant.
The Eagles are a dangerous 'machine'. I have used them sparingly, and that is the absolute limit of their credibility or usefulness. The alighting of a Great Eagle of the Misty Mountains in the Shire is absurd; it also makes the later capture of G. by Saruman incredible, and spoils the account of his escape. (One of Z's chief faults is his tendency to anticipate scenes or devices used later, thereby flattening the tale out.) Radagast is not an Eagle-name, but a wizard's name; several eagle-names are supplied in the book. These points are to me important.
Here I may say that I fail to see why the time-scheme should be deliberately contracted. It is already rather packed in the original, the main action occurring between Sept. 22 and March 25 of the following year. The many impossibilities and absurdities which further hurrying produces might, I suppose, be unobserved by an uncritical viewer; but I do not see why they should be unnecessarily introduced. Time must naturally be left vaguer in a picture than in a book; but I cannot see why definite time-statements, contrary to the book and to probability, should be made. ....
Seasons are carefully regarded in the original. They are pictorial, and should be, and easily could be, made the main means by which the artists indicate time-passage. The main action begins in autumn and passes through winter to a brilliant spring: this is basic to the purport and tone of the tale. The contraction of time and space in 2 destroys that. His arrangements would, for instance, land us in a snowstorm while summer was still in. The Lord of the Rings may be a 'fairy-story', but it takes place in the Northern hemisphere of this earth: miles are miles, days are days, and weather is weather.
Contraction of this kind is not the same thing as the necessary reduction or selection of the scenes and events that are to be visually represented.
7. The first paragraph misrepresents Tom Bombadil. He is not the owner of the woods; and he would never make any such threat.
'Old scamp!' This is a good example of the general tendency that I find in Z to reduce and lower the tone towards that of a more childish fairy-tale. The expression does not agree with the tone of Bombadil's long later talk; and though that is cut, there is no need for its indications to be disregarded.
I am sorry, but I think the manner of the introduction of Goldberry is silly, and on a par with 'old scamp'. It also has no warrant in my tale. We are not in 'fairy-land', but in real river-lands in autumn. Goldberry represents the actual seasonal changes in such lands. Personally I think she had far better disappear than make a meaningless appearance.
8 line 24. The landlord does not ask Frodo to 'register'! Why should he? There are no police and no government. (Neither do I make him number his rooms.) If details are to be added to an already crowded picture, they should at least fit the world described.
9. Leaving the inn at night and running off into the dark is an impossible solution of the difficulties of presentation here (which I can see). It is the last thing that Aragorn would have done. It is based on a misconception of the Black Riders throughout, which I beg Z to reconsider. Their peril is almost entirely due to the unreasoning fear which they inspire (like ghosts). They have no great physical power against the fearless; but what they have, and the fear that they inspire, is enormously increased in darkness. The Witch-king, their leader, is more powerful in all ways than the others; but he must not yet be raised to the stature of Vol. III. There, put in command by Sauron, he is given an added demonic force. But even in the Battle of the Pelennor, the darkness had only just broken. See III 114.
10. Rivendell was not 'a shimmering forest'. This is an unhappy anticination of Lrien (which it in no way resembled). It could not be seen from Weathertop : it was 200 miles away and hidden in a ravine. I can see no pictorial or story-making gain in needlessly contracting the geography.
Strider does not 'Whip out a sword' in the book. Naturally not: his sword was broken. (Its elvish light is another false anticipation of the reforged Anduril. Anticipation is one of Z's chief faults.) Why then make him do so here, in a contest that was explicitly not fought with weapons?
11. Aragorn did not 'sing the song of Gil-galad'. Naturally: it was quite inappropriate, since it told of the defeat of the Elven-king by the Enemy. The Black Riders do not scream, but keep a more terrifying silence. Aragorn does not blanch. The riders draw slowly in on foot in darkness, and do not 'spur'. There is no fight. Sam does not 'sink his blade into the Ringwraith's thigh', nor does his thrust save Frodo's life. (If he had, the result would have been much the same as in III 117-20: the Wraith would have fallen down and the sword would have been destroyed.) Why has my account been entirely rewritten here, with disregard for the rest of the tale? I can see that there are certain difficulties in representing a dark scene; but they are not insuperable. A scene of gloom lit by a small red fire, with the Wraiths slowly approaching as darker shadows until the moment when Frodo puts on the Ring, and the King steps forward revealed would seem to me far more impressive than yet one more scene of screams and rather meaningless slashings.....
I have spent some time on this passage, as an example of what I find too frequent to give me 'pleasure or satisfaction': deliberate alteration of the story, in fact and significance, without any practical or artistic object (that I can see); and of the flattening effect that assimilation of one incident to another must have.
15. Time is again contracted and hurried, with the effect of reducing the importance of the Quest. Gandalf does not say they will leave as soon as they can pack! Two months elapse. There is no need to say anything with a time-purport. The lapse of time should be indicated, if by no more than the change to winter in the scenery and trees.
At the bottom of the page, the Eagles are again introduced. I feel this to be a wholly unacceptable tampering with the tale. 'Nine Walkers' and they immediately go up in the air! The intrusion achieves nothing but incredibility, and the staling of the device of the Eagles when at last they are really needed. It is well within the powers of pictures to suggest, relatively briefly, a long and arduous journey, in secrecy, on foot, with the three ominous mountains getting nearer.
Z does not seem much interested in seasons or scenery, though from what I saw I should say that in the representation of these the chief virtue and attraction of the film is likely to be found. But would Z think that he had improved the effect of a film of, say, the ascent of Everest by introducing helicopters to take the climbers half way up (in defiance of probability)? It would be far better to cut the Snow-storm and the Wolves than to make a farce of the arduous journey.
19. Why does Z put beaks and feathers on Orcs!? (Orcs is not a form of Auks.) The Orcs are definitely stated to be corruptions of the 'human' form seen in Elves and Men. They are (or were) squat, broad, flat-nosed, sallow-skinned, with wide mouths and slant eyes: in fact degraded and repulsive versions of the (to Europeans) least lovely Mongol-types.
20. The Balrog never speaks or makes any vocal sound at all. Above all he does not laugh or sneer. .... Z may think that he knows more about Balrogs than I do, but he cannot expect me to agree with him.
21 ff. 'A splendid sight. It is the home of Galadriel. . . an Elvenqueen.' (She is not in fact one.) 'Delicate spires and tiny minarets of Elven-color are cleverly woven into a beautiful[ly] designed castle.' I think this deplorable in itself, and in places impertinent. Will Z please pay my text some respect, at least in descriptions that are obviously central to the general tone and style of the book! I will in no circumstances accept this treatment of Lrien, even if Z personally prefers 'tiny' fairies and the gimcrack of conventional modern fairy-tales.
The disappearance of the temptation of Galadriel is significant. Practically everything having moral import has vanished from the synopsis.
22. Lembas, 'waybread', is called a 'food concentrate'. As I have shown I dislike strongly any pulling of my tale towards the style and feature of 'contes des fees', or French fairy-stories. I dislike equally any pull towards 'scientification', of which this expression is an example. Both modes are alien to my story.
We are not exploring the Moon or any other more improbable region. No analysis in any laboratory would discover chemical properties of lembas that made it superior to other cakes of wheat-meal.
I only comment on the expression here as an indication of attitude. It is no doubt casual; and nothing of this kind or style will (I hope) escape into the actual dialogue.
In the book lembas has two functions. It is a 'machine' or device for making credible the long marches with little provision, in a world in which as I have said 'miles are miles'. But that is relatively unimportant. It also has a much larger significance, of what one might hesitatingly call a 'religious' kind. This becomes later apparent, especially in the chapter 'Mount Doom' (III 213 and subsequently). I cannot find that Z has made any particular use of lembas even as a device; and the whole of 'Mount Doom' has disappeared in the distorted confusion that Z has made of the ending. As far as I can see lembas might as well disappear altogether.
I do earnestly hope that in the assignment of actual speeches to the characters they will be represented as I have presented them: in style and sentiment. I should resent perversion of the characters (and do resent it, so far as it appears in this sketch) even more than the spoiling of the plot and scenery.
Parts II & III. I have spent much space on criticizing even details in Part I. It has been easier, because Part I in general respects the line of narrative in the book, and retains some of its original coherence. Pan II exemplifies all the faults of Pan I ; but it is far more unsatisfactory, & still more so Pan III, in more serious respects. It almost seems as if 2, having spent much time and work on Pan I, now found himself short not only of space but of patience to deal with the two more difficult volumes in which the action becomes more fast and complicated. He has in any case elected to treat them in a way that produces a confusion that mounts at last almost to a delirium. ....
The narrative now divides into two main branches: 1. Prime Action, the Ringbearers. 2. Subsidiary Action, the rest of the Company leading to the 'heroic' matter. It is essential that these two branches should each be treated in coherent sequence. Both to render them intelligible as a story, and because they are totally different in tone and scenery. Jumbling them together entirely destroys these things.
31. I deeply regret this handling of the 'Treebeard' chapter, whether necessary or not. I have already suspected Z of not being interested in trees: unfortunate, since the story is so largely concerned with them. But surely what we have here is in any case a quite unintelligible glimpse? What are Ents?
31 to 32. We pass now to a dwelling of Men in an 'heroic age'. Z does not seem to appreciate this. I hope the artists do. But he and they have really only to follow what is said, and not alter it to suit their fancy (out of place).
In such a time private 'chambers' played no pan. Theoden probably had none, unless he had a sleeping 'bower' in a separate small 'outhouse'. He received guests or emissaries, seated on the dais in his royal hall. This is quite clear in the book; and the scene should be much more effective to illustrate.
31 to 32. Why do not Theoden and Gandalf go into the open before the doors, as I have told? Though I have somewhat enriched the culture of the 'heroic' Rohirrim, it did not run to glass windows that could be thrown open ! ! We might be in a hotel. (The 'east windows' of the hall, II 116, 119, were slits under the eaves, unglazed.) Even if the king of such a people had a 'bower', it could not become 'a beehive of bustling activity'!! The bustle takes place outside and in the town. What is showable of it should occur on the wide pavement before the great doors.
33. I am afraid that I do not find the glimpse of the 'defence of the Homburg' this would be a better title, since Helm's Deep, the ravine behind, is not shown entirely satisfactory. It would, I guess, be a fairly meaningless scene in a picture, stuck in in this way. Actually I myself should be inclined to cut it right out, if it cannot be made more coherent and a more significant part of the story. .... If both the Ents and the Hornburg cannot be treated at sufficient length to make sense, then one should go. It should be the Hornburg, which is incidental to the main story; and there would be this additional gain that we are going to have a big battle (of which as much should be made as possible), but battles tend to be too similar: the big one would gain by having no competitor.
34. Why on earth should Z say that the hobbits 'were munching ridiculously long sandwiches'? Ridiculous indeed. I do not see how any author could be expected to be 'pleased' by such silly alterations. One hobbit was sleeping, the other smoking.
The spiral staircase 'weaving' round the Tower [Orthanc] comes from Z's fancy not my tale. I prefer the latter. The tower was 500 feet high. There was a flight of 27 steps leading to the great door; above which was a window and a balcony.
Z is altogether too fond of the words hypnosis and hypnotic. Neither genuine hypnosis, nor scienrifictitious variants, occur in my tale. Saruman's voice was not hypnotic but persuasive. Those who listened to him were not in danger of falling into a trance, but of agreeing with his arguments, while fully awake. It was always open to one to reject, by free will and reason, both his voice while speaking and its after-impressions. Saruman corrupted the reasoning powers.
Z has cut out the end of the book, including Saruman's proper death. In that case I can see no good reason for making him die. Saruman would never have committed suicide: to cling to life to its basest dregs is the way of the son of person he had become. If Z wants Saruman tidied up (I cannot see why, where so many threads are left loose) Gandalf should say something to this effect: as Saruman collapses under the excommunication: 'Since you will not come out and aid us, here in Orthanc you shall stay till you rot, Saruman. Let the Ents look to it!'