Welcome to a special Tuesday edition of 'The Secret of the Inklings' I took a long weekend and am just getting to this post today. Last week I apologized to Mr Tolkien. Today I apologize to you gentle reader. Now on with the post.
Gandalf drew smoke in from his pipe while he looked past his cup of tea to the fire in the hearth in Bilbo's kitchen. It was a bright cheery morning in late spring, yet Gandalf had a chill. Much like the one he had some time ago when Bilbo admitted to finding Gollum's ring in the tunnels under the Misty Mountain. Something was not right. The man who for lack of a better word landed in Bilbo's garden two days ago seemed kind and wanted to know everything about the shire. He had taken to taking long walks along the lanes and roads of this pleasant country. Gandalf could not get over the coincidence of the stranger whom Bilbo called Jar Tulkeen arriving at Bag End of all places and his description of where he is from even more puzzling carts pulled without horses and devices called radios that could send voices hundreds of leagues thru the air. More puzzling was the strangers account of how he had gotten here. Gandalf knew there would be many many days ahead of conversations with Bilbo's.... well what was he Prisoner? Guest? Only time would help unravel this puzzle.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Monday, May 23, 2016
Bilbo
Tolkien awoke on his back looking up at brilliant blue sky with white clouds. The last thing he remembered was flipping the coin he found earlier in the day while walking under the bridge of sighs in Oxford. He realized he was was being poked with a stick.
"Excuse me! but my garden is not a hotel for wandering old men! Unless you are a wizard, but I don't think you are a wizard by the look of you. So good morning and be on your way sir."
Tolkien looked to see a man about half his size with wearing a green vest and barefoot and said "Pardon me? Where am I?."
Bilbo snorted and said "Why this is my home Bag End. The Baggins' have lived here since time out of mind. From the look of you sir the pints at the Prancing Pony got the better of you."
"I am J.R.R Tolkien and I have no bloody idea how I got here, I'll bet wager Jack and Warnie had something to do with it."
"Well I do not know any Jack and Warnie. Mr. Jar Tullkeen, but where are my manners? My name is Bilbo Baggins and this is my home. Well I suppose it won't do to have a man just laying about in my garden all day. Do come in for some tea. I will fetch my friend Gandalf who is visiting these parts and we can sort out what to do with you." Bilbo said it kindly but something told him this was not just a drunken man who fell asleep among his flowers....
This is a draft of the first encounter between Bilbo and Tolkien. I wanted to get the flow of it down as it is a beautiful spring morning here in NY and it reminded me of the beginning of 'The Hobbit'. The reference to Gandalf may be removed and replaced with the old Gaffer because it is possible Gandalf will have a very different role in our little story.
My apologies to Mr. Tolkien. My story is written with a lifetime of love for his characters and the world he so carefully created for them.
Carl
"Excuse me! but my garden is not a hotel for wandering old men! Unless you are a wizard, but I don't think you are a wizard by the look of you. So good morning and be on your way sir."
Tolkien looked to see a man about half his size with wearing a green vest and barefoot and said "Pardon me? Where am I?."
Bilbo snorted and said "Why this is my home Bag End. The Baggins' have lived here since time out of mind. From the look of you sir the pints at the Prancing Pony got the better of you."
"I am J.R.R Tolkien and I have no bloody idea how I got here, I'll bet wager Jack and Warnie had something to do with it."
"Well I do not know any Jack and Warnie. Mr. Jar Tullkeen, but where are my manners? My name is Bilbo Baggins and this is my home. Well I suppose it won't do to have a man just laying about in my garden all day. Do come in for some tea. I will fetch my friend Gandalf who is visiting these parts and we can sort out what to do with you." Bilbo said it kindly but something told him this was not just a drunken man who fell asleep among his flowers....
This is a draft of the first encounter between Bilbo and Tolkien. I wanted to get the flow of it down as it is a beautiful spring morning here in NY and it reminded me of the beginning of 'The Hobbit'. The reference to Gandalf may be removed and replaced with the old Gaffer because it is possible Gandalf will have a very different role in our little story.
My apologies to Mr. Tolkien. My story is written with a lifetime of love for his characters and the world he so carefully created for them.
Carl
Friday, May 13, 2016
The Road to Other Earth...
Authors Note: The more I want to start writing this story and the more I start searching for details to be as accurate as I can about the historical facts of Tolkien, Lewis and Oxford I realize how much material there is and how much reading I have in front of me. The trick will be to absorb the facts and site the sources but to keep in mind I'm working on a story, novella or some piece of fiction so The facts may be thrown aside if I need to invent things to keep the plot moving forward. I am starting to keep a notebook for Ideas and for facts I find useful. OK now finally, on with a bit of our story. Also this post is a few days early I am traveling and wanted to make sure I did not forget to get this done. Thanks again for joining me on this journey.
It is spring 1925, Just seven years since returning from the horrors of World War One. J.R.R Tolkien was moving into his office In Pembroke College, Oxford where he was starting what would be long tenure as a professor at Pembroke that would last until 1945 when he moved to Merton College where he continued until 1959. Tolkien was sitting at his desk and moving in the few items he had while thinking of the number of men who occupied this office over hundreds of years. How would ne match up to these Giants, these Dons of Oxford. In hind sight we know he would stand among the greats but it was a good question for this orphan and veteran to be asking himself at the start of his career. He rummaged around his desk looking for an ashtray thinking a short break and blowing some smoke rings with his pipe were just what the moment called for. After opening the bottom right drawer and seeing the previous occupant had indeed left behind an ash tray he found he could not close the drawer no matter how hard he tried there was something blocking the drawer. He pulled the drawer out and found a small worn wooden box with Runes on the outside that he did not recognize and a gold coin in the box. He was going to set the box aside and translate the runes later but he really did love new languages and alphabets so unpacking could wait, besides what if the Runes were timely and an elaborate prank by his friend Jack (C.S. Lewis Who was also starting as a fellow at Oxford this term) maybe the the Runes read Tollers... Meet me at the Bird and Baby (the name used by locals for the Eagle and Child Pub just off of campus) for pint at 5 O'clock. It would be rude not to turn up so he set to translating the runes thinking of a pint of bitters and how good it would taste after he one a game of riddles and Jack had to pay for the pint, but that is not what the Runes told him. After several hours of thinking and blowing smoke rings in that old office he had cracked the puzzle, but even though he could read the message of the runes he had no idea what they meant. It could still be an elaborate prank by Jack and his brother Warnie, but that pint he thought of earlier was calling him so off to the pub he went to show his prize to Jack and see if he was behind the mystery.
Next Post: A funny thing happened on the way to the pub....
It is spring 1925, Just seven years since returning from the horrors of World War One. J.R.R Tolkien was moving into his office In Pembroke College, Oxford where he was starting what would be long tenure as a professor at Pembroke that would last until 1945 when he moved to Merton College where he continued until 1959. Tolkien was sitting at his desk and moving in the few items he had while thinking of the number of men who occupied this office over hundreds of years. How would ne match up to these Giants, these Dons of Oxford. In hind sight we know he would stand among the greats but it was a good question for this orphan and veteran to be asking himself at the start of his career. He rummaged around his desk looking for an ashtray thinking a short break and blowing some smoke rings with his pipe were just what the moment called for. After opening the bottom right drawer and seeing the previous occupant had indeed left behind an ash tray he found he could not close the drawer no matter how hard he tried there was something blocking the drawer. He pulled the drawer out and found a small worn wooden box with Runes on the outside that he did not recognize and a gold coin in the box. He was going to set the box aside and translate the runes later but he really did love new languages and alphabets so unpacking could wait, besides what if the Runes were timely and an elaborate prank by his friend Jack (C.S. Lewis Who was also starting as a fellow at Oxford this term) maybe the the Runes read Tollers... Meet me at the Bird and Baby (the name used by locals for the Eagle and Child Pub just off of campus) for pint at 5 O'clock. It would be rude not to turn up so he set to translating the runes thinking of a pint of bitters and how good it would taste after he one a game of riddles and Jack had to pay for the pint, but that is not what the Runes told him. After several hours of thinking and blowing smoke rings in that old office he had cracked the puzzle, but even though he could read the message of the runes he had no idea what they meant. It could still be an elaborate prank by Jack and his brother Warnie, but that pint he thought of earlier was calling him so off to the pub he went to show his prize to Jack and see if he was behind the mystery.
Next Post: A funny thing happened on the way to the pub....
Monday, May 9, 2016
The ear worm.... or the idea I could not get out of my head....
OK. So we have finally arrived at the beginning of our story and after this post I'll have to start letting you in on the 'Secret' of the Inklings...
After a day spent wandering the colleges of Oxford and wandering the streets of the city sampling the wares of different shops, cafes and pubs three of us were crammed back into the Mini Cooper. Richard had to bring some things from work home and opted to take bus home. That is his story and he's sticking with it. I think he was just being a gentleman and giving us more room in the car. We were to meet back up Bicester and walk into town for what would be a wonderful dinner. As we wound our way thru Oxford's streets and were on the road out of town Paula said "Nut's.. I forgot to take you to the Eagle and Child". Now I had been in England for a week and had seen my fair share of pubs including several that day. I said "what makes this pub different from all the others I have seen? "It is where Tolkien and C.S. Lewis used to read there new stories to each other." Now if I had known such a holy shrine existed I would have made a pilgrimage years sooner to be sure. I spent much of the rest of that day imagining a smokey pub room and Tolkien wearing a plaid wool vest and smoking a pipe reading the beginning pages of "The Hobbit" to C.S. Lewis while he drank a whiskey and offered friendly advice and asked questions... I could see it as clearly as if I was in the room for the reading.
This image would stay with me over the next weeks and months. I found myself transported in my daydreams imaging how those readings would go at the Eagle and Child and imaging Tolkien walking home at the end of the night. Passing under bridge of sighs and singing songs half outlaid in his made up language of the elves. The idea was really taking hold. Just before Christmas I did a google search on Tolkien and C.S. Lewis at Oxford seeing if anyone had any more stories like this and I found a treasure trove of information on the Inklings. So much information was available to fill in the back story of these literary giants at Oxford after World War One. I downloaded a few books about the inklings and set to reading..... This was going to be fun, well at least for a big old nerd like me who loved the work of both writers and wanted to know more about who they were. In my next post I will talk about the history of the Inklings as a literary club and who some its most notable members were. I will also start a reading list of on a sidebar in the blog of the source material I have read and enjoyed as I embark on this task of turning the Inklings into a fantasy story set in Oxford, Narnia and Middle Earth.
After a day spent wandering the colleges of Oxford and wandering the streets of the city sampling the wares of different shops, cafes and pubs three of us were crammed back into the Mini Cooper. Richard had to bring some things from work home and opted to take bus home. That is his story and he's sticking with it. I think he was just being a gentleman and giving us more room in the car. We were to meet back up Bicester and walk into town for what would be a wonderful dinner. As we wound our way thru Oxford's streets and were on the road out of town Paula said "Nut's.. I forgot to take you to the Eagle and Child". Now I had been in England for a week and had seen my fair share of pubs including several that day. I said "what makes this pub different from all the others I have seen? "It is where Tolkien and C.S. Lewis used to read there new stories to each other." Now if I had known such a holy shrine existed I would have made a pilgrimage years sooner to be sure. I spent much of the rest of that day imagining a smokey pub room and Tolkien wearing a plaid wool vest and smoking a pipe reading the beginning pages of "The Hobbit" to C.S. Lewis while he drank a whiskey and offered friendly advice and asked questions... I could see it as clearly as if I was in the room for the reading.
This image would stay with me over the next weeks and months. I found myself transported in my daydreams imaging how those readings would go at the Eagle and Child and imaging Tolkien walking home at the end of the night. Passing under bridge of sighs and singing songs half outlaid in his made up language of the elves. The idea was really taking hold. Just before Christmas I did a google search on Tolkien and C.S. Lewis at Oxford seeing if anyone had any more stories like this and I found a treasure trove of information on the Inklings. So much information was available to fill in the back story of these literary giants at Oxford after World War One. I downloaded a few books about the inklings and set to reading..... This was going to be fun, well at least for a big old nerd like me who loved the work of both writers and wanted to know more about who they were. In my next post I will talk about the history of the Inklings as a literary club and who some its most notable members were. I will also start a reading list of on a sidebar in the blog of the source material I have read and enjoyed as I embark on this task of turning the Inklings into a fantasy story set in Oxford, Narnia and Middle Earth.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Welcome to the Shire.
As a fan of both Tolkien and C.S. Lewis it is odd that I never gave much thought about the men themselves or where they came from. It is odd in particular given my obsessive nature when I find something I like. I have a tendency to absorb every last bit of it and then move on to something else. Maybe it was because I read the books for the first time as a young teen and in the case of Tolkien every year for about 25 years. I did learn to translate the runes on the covers and illustrations in Tolkien's books using the clues he left. OK a little obsessive see. But I had not give much thought to the actual men or where they lived. Until April 2015 when Wendy and I made plans to stay with our friends Paula and Richard who live in Bicester and visit Oxford after a week in London. So on a rainy spring Saturday morning after the proper amount of coffee and nibbles (lots!) we headed to Oxford in Paula's Mini Cooper. I wish there were pictures of this. Think of the joke How many Popes can you fit in a Volkswagen and you get the idea. Poor Richard took the bus back home at the end of the day rather than face that cramped ride again. Sorry Richard! I owe you a pint for that one. Paula decided to stay off the hi-ways and take the 'scenic' route to Oxford.... During that short 30 minute ride I saw all of Tolkien's illustrations of the shire that were in the books come to life before my eyes. I knew instantly where his inspiration came from for the sleepy, idyllic land of the Hobbits was born from. The early spring green made more vibrant by the rain was amazing as we drove down country lanes past farms, old stone churches and little homes I felt myself being transported to Hobbiton and half expect to see Samwise Gamgee around every corner smoking a pipe, pushing a wheelbarrow and singing a bawdy pub song. I have never connected a place to the writing inspired by it so strongly. There was magic afoot that day to be sure. I can see in my mind's eye Tolkien sitting under a big tree painting the landscape in front of him that I would look at a thousand times as a teenager as I read the covers off of my first copy of the Hobbit.
Next week's sketch will be of the moment i had the idea that started this whole thing.
Next week's sketch will be of the moment i had the idea that started this whole thing.
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