Scattered Seeds

Do not trouble your hearts overmuch with thought of the road tonight. Maybe the paths that you each shall tread are already laid before your feet, though you do not see them.

–Galadriel, The Lord of the Rings

Aargh! So many books to read! But which one?!

Tolkien’s The Silmarillion just arrived and it is in my hands. With this copy, I now have a complete set Tolkien’s Middle Earth stories. Not just any ordinary set, mind you. It’s a handsome DeLuxe set; except that I open them and read them and soil them, and I put my mark on them. They are well-used and not in collectible condition anymore. But I don’t care. Books are meant to be read.

Then one might ask, “Why spend all the money of such expensive books when there are cheaper versions around?”

In my younger days when I was reading comics, I was caught in the stream of comic collecting. But after a while, I figured that it was a waste of my time. I was buying comics to read, consume and forget. For me, comics provided a means of escapism from the rigours of education (and homework). So the idea of buying multiple copies of the same magazines only to store them in plastic bags–sometimes in acid free mylars–was beyond me. Plus, I was yet in the category of money earners so the whole notion of buying a carrot just to dangle it in front of me as if I was a donkey, seemed absurdly stoopied. Sure, one would argue about the potential rise in value, and the kind of money I could make in the future. But I was more of a now kind of person. I admit that the speculative nature did consume my soul a bit, but I learned the errors of my ways quickly and soon lived a less desirous life. There are indeed more important things in life. Now that I do make a little money from the work that I do, the interest in comics has waned. I still buy a copy or two every once in a while, but the need for escapism into a superhero world is no longer present. Perhaps that is one reason why I do not look forward to the recent slew of superhero movies (when in my younger days I would have clamoured for more more more and more). Then again, I remember being more excited that certain artists–like Sienkiewicz, McKean, Mazuchelli, Miyazaki, Moebius (wow, that’s a lot of Ms)–were drawing certain comics than the stories and titles.

Instead of the fantastical world comics provide, I have shifted to books. But not just any book. The bane of learning how to read critically because of my professional training in the academia world is that I find too few books (or films for that matter) to my liking. I am pretty selective. I don’t buy a book just because everyone else is reading it. Case in point: the Harry Potter books. I buy the books that I hope I will really enjoy. And keep (not collect like speculators do). Thus, the hardcovers. But the truth is: I don’t like paperbacks much. I’ll avoid them if I can. Most paperbacks use paper of lower quality. The pages turn yellow and age far too soon. The font size is often too small. It’s usually too light–there is something about having a little weight in my hands. And I sleep with my books, so I have a tendency to squash the covers. (Hmm… I seem to have written about this somewhere before. But I guess I just need to remind and reassure myself of why I buy hardcover books).

Anyway, I am so tempted to read The Silmarillion now! So why shouldn’t I?

Well, I’m in the middle of so many books I don’t know what to do. I have not read My Name is Red for more than two months already (and the story, which is actually quite captivating, is slowly fading away). The reading of C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia is moving too slowly; the reading of this book depends on the ears of others. And my reading of The Lord of the Rings has slowed to a trickle, too (but that’s because I know the story, and is in no rush to find out what happens to the various characters). I have the two scholarly books about Tolkien’s The Hobbit sitting on my bookshelf–waiting for me to have the time and proper frame of mind to read them. I’ve just started reading about Elizabeth Hawley two days back. Add to that, Maurice Herzog’s Annapurna is a few days away from my doorsteps. And the book about Hermann Buhl’s first ascent of Nanga Parbat is still somewhere in the world… coming (After reading his climb in Messner’s The Naked Mountain, I felt that his climb would be one amazing read). And I’ve been dreaming of the Easton Press’ signed leather bound edition of Hillary’s High Adventure, the book about the account of his ascent of Everest!

Decisions. Decisions. Decisions. And they are only about books to read. Haish.

Actually, the answer is pretty clear: Tolkien rules this time!

The Children Of Húrin

05/5/2007
To some extent I have always known the Middle-earth stories of Tolkien even without reading them. I suppose I have been spoilt by the various adaptations. I have not seen the Jules Bass animated version of The Hobbit, but have read the David Wenzel‘s abridged version in graphic novel form (it has really beautiful drawings!). Then, there are movies to Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings; I have watched the Ralph Bashki’s 1978 animated version, and, more recently, followed the development of Peter Jackson’s adaptation that fits within the action-packed genre more than anything else.

David Wenzel’s art from The Hobbit

But when I found out that The Children of Húrin, a new book by Tolkien was being published posthumously, I started reading his earlier works (this was to be my 2nd attempt; I tried reading Tolkien when I was too much younger to be able to digest Tolkien’s language. But that is another story for another day). April 17 was the release date; I read The Hobbit in a jiffy and enjoyed it even though some parts were rather too episodic for my liking. Then again, it is a children’s book. Soon after, I started on the mammoth (at 1000+ pages!) The Lord of the Rings. The plan was to complete it (and The Silmarillion) before my copy of The Children of Húrin reached my hands. Alas, it was not so.

I was with Frodo when he was introduced to Strider at the Inn of the Prancing Pony, and I was torn between two books. Since I was at an inn, Frodo is now taking an extended rest from his journeys with the ring. I admit, I was caught in the tide of the publishing event (through news reports on the Internet) of Tolkien’s new old tale, written some 99 years ago. I was curious to find out how Tolkien’d hold up in an age when a magician boy has captured the imagination of millions. I was surprised that despite the fact that over 150 million copies of The Lord of the Rings had been sold, The Children of Húin had an initial print run of only 500,000 copies of the regular edition worldwide, plus 20,000 copies of a DeLuxe edition in the UK and the USA to feed the appetite of Tolkien’s fellowship of readers. Last I heard, the publishers went back to press to churn out some 200,000 copies more. The article “The Children of Hurin facts and figures” at the Tolkien Library website is a good read.

I’m one of those with the DeLuxe edition. I’m not a book collector of prized versions, but it’s just that I couldn’t care for the cheap version; the paper quality was a turn-off. I suppose it’s part and parcel of modernization, and the quality one gets is what one pays for. Though exorbitantly priced, the DeLuxe edition is a thing of beauty. The weight that comes with the heavier and smoother paper stock does psychologically help enhance the reading and appreciation of the story (to me, at least).

I am not sure how modern readers will take the story written in a somewhat archaic style. For instance, in the first chapter one has to go through the dense and confusing genealogies and geography of the First Age of Middle-earth. The story begins thus:

“Hador Goldenhead was a lord of the Edain and well-beloved by the Eldar. He dwelt while his days lasted under the lordship of Fingolfin, who gave to him wide lands in that region of Hithlum which was called Dor-lómin. His daughter Glóredhel wedded Haldir son of Halmir, lord of the Men of Brethil; and at the same feast his son Galdor the Tall wedded Hareth, the daughter of Halmir.”

That can dissuade a whole army of casual readers. By pressing on through all that may seem strange and alien at first is to be rewarded by a truly engaging, impressive, and to a certain extent, surprising story. In it’s bid to rope in more customers, amazon.co.uk has published the entire first chapter of The Children of Húrin on it’s website. Go ahead, read it and see if you are drawn to the story.

I have since finished The Children of Húrin, but I am hard pressed to write about the the story lest I reveal too much in the telling and bring darkness upon the joy and pleasure of reading. Suffice it to say, The Children of Húrin is nothing like The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings. It doesn’t have little people, lyrical songs nor cheerful episodes. It’s a much darker than the earlier tales. And for that, I am surprised that there exist a tragedy of such in the legends of Middle-earth. And also, I am surprised (perhaps those who have read The Silmarillion or Unfinished Tales will not find it so) at the depth of Tolkien’s overall design of the history, and geography his fantastical world. And for that, I have grown more appreciative of the man and his work (and he has many).

But for now, I shall return to the Inn of the Prancing Pony from whence I left off.

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update 22/5/2007
Awesome! I’ve just learnt that Harper Collins, the publisher for Tolkien’s books will be publishing a deluxe edition of The Silmarillion i November (enough time to save enough money to place an order for it to have enough time to arrive just in time to be my Christmas present to myself). Here’s hoping that it’ll match the design of the current deluxe editions of The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Children of Húrin just so my library will look impressive with the few Tolkien books that I already have.