Middle Earth March #1: We’re going There and Back Again

“Where there’s life there’s hope.”

~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, or There and Back Again

We’re all hobbits in one way or another. For some, the call to adventure comes later in life than you may expect, and even then, you may find yourself searching for reasons not to go instead of doing what your heart desires. Others only wish to find a nice, comfortable “hole in the ground” to burrow in and live out the rest of their days without any grumbling old wizards who come knocking on your door. 

What makes me a hobbit is the sense of longing I feel once I believe a story has ended. Although published a good deal before Tolkien’s magnum opus The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit remains little more than “a precursor to the greatest fantasy story of all time.” That statement rings true if you find Lord of the Rings as magnificent as I do. 

I think, though, that Tolkien’s first published work in the world of Middle Earth deserves more recognition than simply the opener for the main show—not to mention all the drastic differences between the two, from their intended audiences being vastly different, their stories taking the characters on vastly different paths and the mythology being much more subdued compared to that of Tolkien’s longer works.

Being a children’s story first and foremost, there’s not too much complexity in the plot. Bilbo Baggins, a normal and well-behaved hobbit in the Shire, is approached one day by Gandalf the Grey and his entourage of dwarves, all of whom speak of an adventure to the Lonely Mountain in search of Smaug the Dragon’s gold hoard. This is almost as bread-and-butter as it gets on the surface, but even in its most basic form Tolkien is able to capture the hearts of his audience through vastly more interesting story elements than what a typical children’s book would do.

Take Thorin Oakenshield for instance: the leader of the band of thieves, drawn wholeheartedly into the greed and malice that takes those who wish for too much—the typical anti-hero in a fantasy world. However, in addition to a compelling surface level plot, Thorin faces the pressure of being the last in line for the dwarven throne under the mountain. In all actuality, the gold means little to him compared to finding and retrieving his family’s heirloom the Arkenstone, the jewel of the mountain that proclaims who is the rightful king.

Or Gandalf, even—though the wizard makes another appearance in Tolkien’s trilogy, much of his appearance in The Hobbit sets up what is to come in the future. Besides being a faithful and well-meaning guide for the group, Gandalf has an entirely hidden agenda that involves far more important fates than simply who will and will not rule the Lonely Mountain. He veers off in the middle of the journey, leaving Thorin’s company to fend for himself as he seeks out the dreaded Necromancer, later revealed to be Sauron himself, returned from the dead.

To simply say that The Hobbit is a book for kids, or even that it should be read only in the context of the greater Tolkien mythology, is not nearly giving the work the credit it deserves. As it nears its hundredth anniversary, Tolkien fans should take this time to read the original introduction the world had to Middle Earth and appreciate what it did for the stories to come. What appears on the surface a fun romp through a fantastic world has much deeper, more important undertones that we can all relate to.

Bilbo’s longing for adventure at the beginning of The Fellowship of the Ring is what I relate to the most. Who hasn’t found themselves wondering if the good days had already passed, that life has grown old and mundane? A true journey is one you look back on, longing to return although the road was hard, knowing fully that you’ve emerged a better person.