The Octave of the Feast of St. John

 In other words, Tolkien's birthday is today: his 130th birthday to be exact. And that is how he described his birthday. "Since I was born on the Octave of St. John the Evangelist, I take him as my patron-- although neither my father, nor my mother at the time, would have thought of anything so Romish as to give me a name because it was a saint's." (The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, Letter 309) As is the custom on this blog, we always mark Tolkien's birthday with some sort of post that is as relevant to The Professor as to the season. Sometimes-- as was the case last year-- I am able to find something that happily is BOTH a Christmas and a fittingly Tolkien-ish carol to post. This year, alas, I have not had such good fortune. So I shall post two things. In honour of The Professor, here is a very charming chanting of the Litany of Loretto, translated into Quenya and presented by Ryszard Derdziński (a.k.a Galadhorn, who hosts this website-- alas, now mostly defunct, but possessing a rather lovely gallery of Elvish art, and a decently in-depth examination of the Tolkien Languages featured in the Jackson films.)

In honour of the Christmas season (and with a slant-wise glance to Tolkien) I am posting a Welsh carol, Tua Bethlem Dref . There does not seem to be much history to it. According to Hymns and Carols of Christmas, it is based off a traditional hymn (with no date included, so I have no idea how old it is) The words are by a Welsh poet, William Evans (a.k.a. Will Ifan) and the music is by David Evann (a.k.a. Edward Arthur). It was featured in a PBS Movies A Child's Christmas in Wales (based off Dylan Thomas's sweet and hilarious book of the title), which was produced in 1987. As you can see, its not particularly clear if the thing was originally a hymn to which Will Ifan's poem was attached, and later, Edward Arthur wrote new music (or just reset the old) for the movie... or if it began life as a poem, and an old hymn became the basis of a new tune for it to be sung by. Still, though its provenance is both vague and recent, it is a beautiful song, with beautiful lyrics, and I like it, so here it is:

On to Bethlehem town;

Join the crowd and travel down;

Down the road that leads us to the cradle.

Come all who are able.

Come, come to the stable with

Hearts full of joy as we kneel and pray

Come and see the child,

With his mother Mary mild.

Come along and worship at the cradle.

There we'll see the boy;

Hearts aglow with boundless joy;

In the everlasting word.

We will bow before for Him

Come, come and adore Him

Bringing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

On to Bethlehem town;

Join the crowd and travel down.

Down the road that leads us to the cradle.

 

I Will Not Say the Day is Done, Nor Bid the Stars Farewell.

This is a post I wrote back in March or April, and never got around to posting. Some of the circumstances it references (mostly obliquely) have changed somewhat since the writing. In the main, however, the concerns and struggles are the same (including the work situation), and the ideas I am working through in this essay (if I may so boldly style it) I am working through still. 

DISCOURAGEMENT

I recently watched this video on the concept of hope on Tolkien's writing. I not only found the idea of those two different types of hope intriguing, but it provided me for words (albeit, invented words) for the way I have been facing the world these last months. Amdir, as it is described in the video, and defined here, seems to me to be a sort of worldly hope: something that might reasonably be expected if certain other things work out. The definition of Estel, however, seems much more akin to the Theological virtue of Hope. And, indeed, if one reads the explanation in The Tolkien Gateway, it appears to be exactly that in Arda and Middle Earth. It makes that concept of hope in the stories all that more profound, and the words of Aragorn's mother, "I have given Hope to men, I have kept none for myself" even more poignant. 

The last year has been singular and difficult, in ways that none of us could have foreseen in those early days of March, when our ostensibly normal world began to show just how mad it was. For me, there has been an added difficulty: I am quite claustrophobic, and by nature, prone to anxiety. Previously, neither of these things had had a particularly noticeable impact on my daily life. One simply avoids things that trigger the first, and becomes adept at working through the second. However, the mask mandates have changed that. Avoidance and work-arounds are no longer really possible. Basic errands have been a struggle for me, and the effect on my job (where the accommodations made for me leave much to be desired), profoundly demoralising. This, combined with what seems to me to be an unnecessary amount of other life challenges, has left me feeling particularly bleak about the future. Yet, though I do indeed feel that bleakness to the fullest, I have at the same time, the unshakeable conviction that God still has me in His hands, and that He will bring great good of this. To use Tolkien's words, I am without amdir, but hold on to estel.

There is something profound in this distinction, beyond the linguistic efficiency the words provide. Amdir is useful for making decisions in the here and now. It can provide motivation and determination in difficulties. It can, in theory, be a tool for the virtues both of Prudence, and of Courage. And yet, it is ultimately mutable and unreliable. The world is changeable, however much times of peace and apparently stability might cause us to think otherwise. We can have a reasonable expectation for the future, but we cannot make that future a pure end of itself. If our hope is merely amdir, then we stand in very real peril of being broken by Life. Estel, on the other hand, being of God, transcends the here and now, and looks to the Real beyond what we can perceive with our human senses. It is not optimism. Optimism is more the province of amdir than estel. Nor is it a sort of delusional wishful thinking that comes from a refusal to accept the reality of a situation. As Our Lady askes the defeated Alfred in The Battle of the White Horse, "Do you have joy without a cause/Yea, faith without a hope?" Estel knows that "even the very wise cannot see all ends", that we all have our own part to play in the Great Story that began in Genesis. God makes nothing that is not needful, and therefore, however obscure the purpose He has given to our lives might be to us whilst we are living them, there is indeed a purpose. It is what gives Joy, when there seems to be no cause for it, Faith, though the lower hope of amdir says there is no point. 

Further, estel creates a difficult paradox: that which is best for us as creatures who are Soul as well as Body, may not be what is best for us from a purely bodily perspective. For we are not bound to this World. We abide in the beauty of it for a given space, and when our allotted time is spent, we are taken out of it again. And the World, coming from the Hands of God, is a very beautiful place. And we, poor homesick creatures, make ourselves very much at home in the pleasure He saw fit to supply it with-- to the point that any loss of those pleasures seems to us to be the most terrible thing that can befall us. But we are not meant for it forever. All of the desires of our hearts cannot be fulfilled here. This is merely a materiel place, however shot-through with God's glory it is. The two-foldedness of our nature means that the Soul is always crying out for what the material can never supply. Death is not an ultimate evil, to be avoided at all cost. It is a price we pay to have those desires fulfilled at last. Estel, in short, looks to the Good-- if that can be found in some measure here, so much the happier, but even if we find ourselves in darkness, Estel allows us to keep on walking through that darkness to "whatever end" God intends for us.

And it is here that the supernatural nature of estel is revealed: those who hold fast to estel do not necessarily expect to enjoy temporal victories. We are small creatures, and the bodily part of our natures so clamourous and demanding, that we do not readily apprehend the great spiritual world that we inhabit by right of being made after the Image and Likeness of God. We know that all things work together for the Good, but are so blinded by the needs of our own weak selves, that we do not readily internalise what that means. We cannot see how all the small, hidden sufferings and crosses, known only God and ourselves, can have merit beyond the atonement of sins and our own purification. And yet, God places a disproportionate value on those clumsy, fumblingly heroic little efforts-- and because of that great value, in His ineffable wisdom, He sometimes allows us the astonishing privilege of sharing the Chalice of His Own Passion. How many cloistered monks and nuns, how many hidden martyrs have shared in the Cup, draining it to the lees? We do not know the names of those great souls, and yet, much that is green and good in the world continues to be, because of a heroism that makes no sense from a worldly perspective. Estel gives us the ability to look unflinchingly into the cold, hard reality of suffering and defeat, and to still chose to go on, like Theodan in The Return of the King, who admitted that the Rohirrim could not defeat the enemy, but averred that "we will meet them in battle nonetheless". Our sufferings may seem like pointless, hidden things. We are not often allowed to see the great good that comes out of our imperfect offerings of self to God. But, in a way, that is the point of Estel. Christ's words in the Gospel concerning the lilies of the field, and the sparrows, whose fall He marks, mean simply what they say: we are always in His care, no matter what. He did not say that He would spare us the fall. His promise is almost too magnificent for our small minds to comprehend. He is not promising us a happy life (though, because He is the softest of all hearts, He often grants that in very full measure). He is promising us Ultimate Happiness; the happiness of Heaven, which contains all that makes this World so terribly sweet to us, but brought to fullness and perfection. He is promising not just the experience of all good things, but intimate communion with the ultimate Good. In the wake of that promise, our own full measure of sorrow here-- meted out as befits our strength-- really matters very little. It takes the Theological virtue of Faith to believe that, and it takes Estel to live our lives around that truth. To quote again from The Ballad of the White Horse, we "harden our hearts with hope".

Which brings us back to the Current State of Things. The clear-eyed realist in me (tyrant that it is) takes a good, hard look around, and sees very little reason to believe things will improve any time soon. I do not know how long the rampant madness we see around us will endure. I have no idea what will happen with my job, nor where I shall be in life several months hence. I expect a return of better days, but also expect that there will be worse before there is better. I feel the burden of these worries to the fullest. Yet, though my heart is making a storm of distress in itself, I find that my soul is not greatly disturbed. Things are as God intends, and no matter what happens, He marks me with attention, and  though He may try me to my utmost, He will never go further than that. The rest does not matter. This, I believe, is Estel: a pure gift of God, of which I am slightly afraid. But I trust that He sees the effort I am making to walk in that Hope; to be like Sam in Cirith Ungol, refusing to be defeated by darkness...  and that is enough. 

A Toast to the Professor

 If The Professor, J. R. R. Tolkien himself, was a long lived as his hobbits, today would be his 129th birthday. I celebrated by hosting a chicken dinner for my family, followed by a nice, nutty cake (the family's contribution to the feast) and tea. Followed by... well, my sister's ultimate cut of the Hobbit movies. Now, it should be made clear that I am not a fan of the Hobbit movies. I watched the first, and did not hate it. Indeed, the scene where the dwarves all starting singing the Misty Mountain song still seems to me to be a very good and inspiring scene. I watched the second, was disappointed by it, and disgusted with the stupid Kili and Tauriel thing. For a good long while, I did not bother with the last, having no desire to watch the Professor's delightful story to be increasingly ransacked, nor the well cast Bilbo be a side character in his own movies. When I finally did watch it, I fully expected it to be a disappointment.... but somehow, it managed to disappoint even more than I thought it would-- quite a feat, that. However, my sister manage to take the bloated bores that those three movies were, ruthlessly eliminate all the dead weight (No Tauriel at all, no White Orc, no weird side story with Gandalf, the Elves and the Necromancer, a bare minimum of strange elves defying physics.) while also adding back in scenes from the extended edition-- notably, allowing Beorn to actually be a character-- and the result was a surprisingly watchable 3 hour movie. We paused it at 9 pm, so that we could lift our glasses of Good Drink, and in unison toast, "To the Professor" quite heartily, which was ridiculously good fun. Throw in the fact that we were able to have Mass today, and you have a perfect Tolkien Birthday.

In honour of the good Professor, and this blessed season in which he was born, I am posting a song that I am ridiculously pleased to have found. There is a bit of a story as to how I came across it: to whit I got an odd notion that perhaps Earendel/Earendil, brightest of stars, may have been given the task of guiding the Wisemen to find our Lord in Bethlehem. I sort of wondered if anyone else had had that idea, and if there mightn't be a picture of it. Though, alas, pictures were not to be had, apparently, the Right Reverend Charles William Stubbs did indeed have the same idea I did, but he got it before Tolkien even came up with his own brightest of stars. The Right Reverend Charles William Stubbs wrote a poem, called The Carol of the Star, in which he explicitly identifies the Christmas Star as Earendel. The invaluable Hymns and Carols of Christmas has this posted on their website, along with sheet music to the music it was later set to. Nothing for it, of course, but to try to find a recording.... which I did eventual, but only after I abandoned poor Reverend Stubbs in my searching, and stuck entirely to the composer, T. Tertius Noble. And lo and behold, here is a Christmas carol, in which we sing "Hail Earendel!" as the refrain:

The Professor!

Today is the Good Professor Tolkien's 128th birthday. I have no idea if the hobbits would say "twelvity-eight" or "one-hundred and twenty-eight", but they would no doubt have been very respectful of his great age. As is usual, I spent the evening being a Tokienist:

Writing out Toasts and Playing with Sealing
Wax -- Please note the Tree of Gondor.

Getting Set Up for the Toast: Whisky, Toast
Picture, Candles, Sealing Wax and Seal.

Toasting the Professor-- Yes, I Have a Giant
Gondorian Flag Hanging Above My Table--
It Was a Gift and I Love It.

In honour of the Hobbits, who valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, I am posting the following Christmas song. I have heard this before, but always sung in a rather slow and stately fashion, or if it is a woman singer, with a tendency towards icy, ethereal tones. This version is both quicker than the average and the tune is slightly different, and it really reminds me of Hobbits. (It also reminds me of my family celebrating Christmas):

And, because it is Tolkien's birthday, and I found it, and I can't resist, here is a video in which an entire decade of the Rosary is said in Quenya. It helpfully provides the Quenya text in both Tengwar and in Latin letters, as well as the English:

Twelfth Night

I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing In, seems a good almost-Epiphany song, so that is what I am going to post today:

Today is also the feast day of St. Edward the Confessor, the last Anglo Saxon King of England and the uncle of St. Margaret of Scotland. I did spend a certain amount of the day attempting research on Anglo Saxon Christmases, to very little avail. I did, however, and most happily make a discovery. In spite of my interest in Old English language and poetry, I am only passingly familiar with Cynewulf's Crist -- here meaning that I am very aware of its importance, know that it is an epic poem on about our Lord, and (because I am me) that it is the poem containing the line Eala Earendel, Engla Beorhtast, which inspired Tolkien's story of Earendil. What I did not know is that the first part of the poem-- the Advent part, the part praising the bright light of Earendel-- are a poetic expansion of the Great O Antiphons sung by the Church during the last days leading up to Christmas. This delighted me all out of proportion. So, in order to sneak in a little Anglo Saxon, in honour of King Edward, I am presenting to you the following:

I Give You This Toast: "To the Hobbits!"

"May they outlast the Sarumans and see spring again in the trees." (Tolkien's toast at the Hobbit Dinner in Rotterdam, March 28th, 1958.)

Today is the birthday of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, and as all good Tolkienists do, I celebrated with right good cheer. I prepared a most satisfactory, and hobbit-like repast of sausage and mushrooms, which I consumed while listening to music inspired by the Professor's subcreation. More to the point, in a couple of hours, I shall join legions of Tolkien admirers around the world by standing up at 9 pm, raising a cup of cheer (in my case, Talisker) and saying with great enthusiasm "To the Professor!"

In honour of the great philologist, philosopher and subcreator, you get the following Christmas song, which I am ridiculously pleased to be posting. Several years ago, when I first discovered Tolkien's poem, Noel, I posted it on my blog with the comment, "it seems the sort of thing that ought be set to melody, and sung by people who are glad to sing and do so heartily." And lo and behold, when I did my daily searching after songs, I found that people who are glad to sing, did indeed set it to song, and here it is:

Yes, yes, it is in Polish, and they use the introductory preamble from Peter Jackson's Fellowship of the Ring to start it out, but it actually sort of works, and it is quite a hearty rendition of the poem. I rather love it..... it rather made me cry. (The disclaimer is that I am inclined to happy tears these days. No reason. I just am. It is rather novel after years of not doing that....me that always cried in deep emotion.)

And for those of you who would prefer a more traditional Christmas tune for the day (sure and I don't blame you) here's The Boar's Head Carol, because it is associated with Oxford, and what could be more hobbit-like than a carol about a procession of food?

To The Professor!

This post is later than I meant because I was being a hobbit-- here meaning that I put food and drink, and doodling and comfort before blogging. 

And as it is the Professor's birthday, it is well that it should be so.... So, without further ado: To the Professor!

I sort of wanted to do another old carol for today, in honour of Tolkien as a Medievalist. However, it did occur to me that these posts have drawn heavily on those sorts of carols, and that it might be an idea to do something a bit more modern. Only I wasn't sure how to go about that, as I mostly hate modern Christmas music. (It being very little in the line of either Christmas nor music.) Poking around for a bit after dinner, I came across this rather lovely Spanish Christmas song. It fist the bill for modern, but there are some lovely, occasionally Tolkien-ish lyrics, and as an added bonus, one of the singers is Bryn Terfel, a Welsh baritone, with a delightfully dwarvish voice. 

This, of course, made me curious to see if there were any Welsh carols I could post. Tolkien, after all, was fond of Welsh, and it was one of the primary influences for his Sindarin language. Well, I did find one, an oddly ancient sounding one, also by Bryn Terfel, and I cannot find a translation of it. The only things I've been able to determine, is that the title means on Christmas morning. But I like it anyway, and so you are getting it as well.

Ai! Laurië Lantar Lassi Súrinen!

First off, the important things:

Or, in the world of the Lord of the Rings, it is Bilbo and Frodo's birthdays today. Indeed, I have been very remiss here, as this whole week has been Tolkien Week, and never a word have I said of it, 'til now. I did do a display of Tolkien books at the library, have worn my Tree of Gondor earrings every day this week, as well as my Argonath pin, whenever I have a collared shirt, allowing such excess. Beyond that, I have been reading Splintered Light, which is a very good book for appreciating Tolkien's theories of language and how he used them in the creation of his legendarium. And since it is the birthday of two such admirable and excellent hobbits, I intend to have a small glass of the very fine Connemara Whiskey I got in Ireland to celebrate the day.

And for the rest of this post:

As the very wise might have guessed from the Elvish salutation at the head of this post, Autumn has come and leaves like gold are falling…. Or rather, the pine needles like gold are falling… though, to be honest, Autumn pine needles tend to be a bit more copper than gold. Still, we must face it: Ah! Like gold fall the leaves! is far more poetic than, Ah! Like copper fall the pine needles… though, yet again, having just read that aloud in mine ain heid, I must say that I like the alliteration in “copper” and “pine”, as well as the sympathetic resonance of the “f” in “fall” against those other two…

Let us not be side-tracked. Autumn has come! This is a great relief to me, as the beginning of this month was most appallingly warm, with temperatures rivalling the hottest of summer days. I canna thole such weather. It is soul-destroying. But, the second week came, with an easing off of the temperatures. Though it was still summery weather, the evenings were cooler, and there was gold in the aspens – just a glimpse, a few bright coins amid the whispering green. And then the winds started, beautiful sea-loud winds, roaring in from the west, driving great tumbles of clouds before them. The skies were a rush of gleam and shadow. Rains came, and hail-storms. The air was redolent with the smell of wet earth and pine. Between the storms, the sun shone, pleasantly warm, but no longer hot, and there was an edge to the wind.

As usual, I contracted my yearly case of Autumn wanderlust, and take to the hills as often as I can. (Perhaps, due to the cruel vagaries of Life, I have been a bit more motivated than usual to turn my face to the mountains—and for that matter, the meadows and the streams—from whence cometh my hope. Who can say? It is no matter of concern to this entry, whatever.) The result is sketches in my book, such as the following.

It is also, occasionally, the opportunity for pictures, taken with the crappy little camera on my ancient flip phone… when I remember to take it with me (which is seldom, as I part of the joy of rambling is to be incommunicado) and further remember that it is there, and can be used to capture the moment. Sometimes, the crappy little camera does better than anticipated. Behold:

 
And that, my friends, while not exactly an explanation for the months of silence since the poetry contest (Perhaps the hitherto mentioned cruel vagaries of Life are to blame?) it does, at least, show that, despite turning into a wandering maniac, who regularly unnerves the populace by following the aberrant flight of a butterfly, in view of a beach full of vacationers, I have not managed to fall into holes, nor drown in streams, nor become stuck in quicksand, nor walked off cliffs. That might not seem so big a thing to you, but to me, it is enough.

To the Professor!

Its that time of year again - January 3rd, the birthday of J. R. R. Tolkien, and then time when all good Tolkienists raise a cup of cheer and toast "To the Professor!"

I had a nice little bit of Whisky, in my nice little Scottish quaich, and after giving the toast promptly at 9 pm, sat me down to drink my drink, and read Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, as it has become my annual Christmas book - a lovely thing in Middle English (this particular edition courtesy of the Professor) and a modern translation of the original text.

(You can see my Tolkien Society bookmark, one of the old Merry and Pippin bookmarks given me by a good friend for Christmas, many more years ago than I care to remember, the new Tree of Gondor earrings that were a Christmas gift this year, and the clever Elven brooch I made of a soda can, a couple paper clips and a Sharpie.)

Since we are still within the 12 days of Christmas, I thought it might be well to finish off this post, with this video:

Forth and Fear No Darkness

A Welcome to 2017

2016 was an odd year. There was much happiness in it - a marriage; a couple births; a family trip to Disneyland; my trip to Ireland; very good friendships; the curious sense of reprieve and renewed purpose that came after the election. There was also a good deal of strife in it. Battles which were thought to have been won, had only been stalemated, and had to be fought again; difficult decisions, with bitter aftermaths; misunderstands; anger. If I had to summarise the year in one word, I think I might have to fall back on 'discouraging' - or possibly 'disheartening'. However, though some of that strife is following us into the New Year, I find myself standing upon the first day of 2017, with a feeling of hope. Not, mind you, the sort the is brightly optimistic - the sort that takes a good hard look at things and still choose to trust, and wait, and keep courage. 

I would be hard pressed to explain why exactly. It is something that has been sort of perking along deep inside me for the last month or two - a feeling that God is both testing His people, and also showing them great compassion. A sense that, to quote St. Paul, "Now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation." It isn't really that I expect a sudden reversal of fortune and all to run smoothly, but rather a sense that things could have been so much worse, and that I had better attempt to be as generous with God as He has been with us. However, there is nothing like a good dose of The Lord of the Rings to make concrete those half thought-out ideas. My family and I finished out the year with a 3 night marathon of Lord of the Rings watching. It is a good movie to end a year. Perhaps and even better way of starting it - which, given that we finished The Return of the King at 5 minute before midnight, we practically did. It is magnificently full of ordinary people doing the right thing, because it is the right thing, and it doesn't matter what happens afterwards, it has to be done. It is full of Hope, bright as stars, sharp as swords, hard as stones - the sort of hope that makes one stay the course, even when it is hopeless, that makes modest Heroes and Knight Errants. It is full of Grace, of Courage, of Purity and Innocence, and Goodness. When was the last time you thought of dying for Beauty? Or faced a battle of any sort, knowing that there was no victory in it and fighting it anyway, because you must, and to refuse to fight would be a worse defeat than death? It is rather amazing that such a story should have been made in our day and age.

It had a good effect on me. It is responsible for the shift from merely wanting to be disciplined, and show God I appreciate is Goodness, to deciding to greet the new year, and all the joys and troubles it brings with it, with Hope. To be like Sam, and see re-crowned kings, and untouched stars in the midst of the black of Moria. To be like Boromir and Faramir, who were willing to die for Beauty and Light and Music. To be like Theoden, who says, "no more dispair" on the eve of a battle he fully expects to lose. To be like Frodo and bear my burden as well as I can, like Merry and Pippin, whose courage is unexpected - like laughter in the dark. I will fall, I expect - Boromir did, and Theoden did, and even Frodo did after a fashion - but falling is not failing, and I hope to be like them in getting back up, and trying again.

I have made New Year's resolutions for the first time in memory. I have toasted in the New Year with good whisky, and a prayer for the grace to be true to this course. There is joy in it, and it is oddly humbling. So here's to 2017!

Enjoy an old New Year's Day song, and a Happy New Year to all!

Merry Christmas.

Well, clearly my good intentions regarding the Great 'O' Antiphons came to naught. Such a pity. It is amazing how Life can be such a passionate mishmash of Joy of the Season, and Irritation of So High A Degree That One Wants to Punch Things and Possibly People... And further, how such a mishmash, even when Joy is the predominate emotion, renders one incapable of sincere and coherent blog posts. 

However, this is the season of the Christmas - the Great Christmas, or the Long Christmas as it has also been called - and however high Irritation might occasionally wax, it is a season of Joy and Good Will, of Music and Merriment, and Wonder at the God-made-Infant. And as such, it is unfitting not to mark it in someway here on this space on the Internet that attempts to devote itself to such glorious matters. (My how grandiose and self-important we have become!)

So first and foremost: A most merry and blessed Christmas to all of you! Please take a minute to enjoy this beautiful card, which I received from the Tolkien Society on Christmas Eve and which went a long way to putting me into the proper spirit of the great and holy Season:

I find it a particularly poignant picture, as it is based on a little sketch Tolkien appearing on this sheet of doodles, made during the time between his marriage to Edith, and being called up for active duty in the First World War. (There is also a wee kilted Scot in the corner. This pleases me.)

I also had every intention of sharing this St. Stephen's Day carol yesterday, when it actually was st. Stephen's Day, but alas, I was inefficient. Still it is a goodly song, and one that makes for good listening, so I am sharing it anyway, with apologies for my tardiness:

 

I also have a more timely carol to share - one in honour of St. John the Evangelist, whose feast day is today, and for which I have manifestly been unable to find an appropriate recordings of until today, though I first came across mention of it several years ago. This is a tune alternately known as To The Now, Crystys Der Derlyng or Prey for Us, Though Prince of Pes.

I shall now close, as it is half past ten, and I should like this to go up when it is still St. John's Day, properly speaking, and not flirting with being the Feast of the Holy Innocents. Merry Christmas to us all, my dears, and God bless us, everyone.

Gaudete!

I had every intention of doing posts on each Sunday in Advent. I am not going to whine and blame it on a cold, but I will say (sadly, sadly....) that either my aging immune system is starting to find the eternal business of warding away ailments to be too much for it, or seasonal ailments have a much more pernicious tenacity than they had in my youth. Colds are supposed to be relatively paltry ailments, aren't they? Someone should point that out to the nasty thingy that is going around ambushing the population here.

However, this being the 3rd Sunday in Advent - Gaudete Sunday, and half way through this season of penance, and the tenacious ailment slackening its vicious hold on my motivation, I thought I would take the time to mark this happy day with a rather beautiful excerpt from Handel's Messiah:

Today also seems like the ideal day to share a recently re-discovered Tolkien poem that was in the news a few months back. It is technically a Christmas poem, but the first couple stanza's seem so Advent that today seemed a very good day to most it:

NOEL
 Grim was the world and grey last night:
The moon and stars were fled,
The hall was dark without song or light,
The fires were fallen dead.
The wind in the trees was like to the sea,
And over the mountains’ teeth
It whistled bitter-cold and free,
As a sword leapt from its sheath.

The lord of snows upreared his head ;
His mantle long and pale 

Upon the bitter blast was spread

 And hung o’er hill and dale.

 The world was blind, the boughs were bent, 

All ways and paths were wild : 

Then the veil of cloud apart was rent, 

And here was born a Child. 

 The ancient dome of heaven sheer 

Was pricked with distant light ; 

A star came shining white and clear 

Alone above the night. 

In the dale of dark in that hour of birth 

One voice on a sudden sang : 

Then all the bells in Heaven and Earth

 Together at midnight rang. 

 Mary sang in this world below : 

They heard her song arise

 O’er mist and over mountain snow

To the walls of Paradise,

 And the tongue of many bells was stirred 

In Heaven’s towers to ring 

When the voice of mortal maid was heard, 

That was mother of Heaven’s King. 

 Glad is the world and fair this night 

With stars about its head, 

And the hall is filled with laughter and light, 

And fires are burning red. 

The bells of Paradise now ring 

With bells of Christendom, 

And Gloria, Gloria we will sing 

That God on earth is come

It is not so strong as some of his later poems, but you can see glimpses of his future poetry in it. The imagery is strong and beautiful, and it seems the sort of thing that ought be set to melody, and sung by people who are glad to sing and do so heartily.

And with that, a very happy day to all of you, and a blessed Advent season.

Happy Hobbit Day

Aye, It is late in the day for this.... nor as splendid a well-wishing as I had originally intended. But, better late than never. (I am sure Sam's Gaffer must have said that at some point.) and it is the thought that counts - even if the thought only ended up being a doodle on the back of an index card, with computer lettering applied on top of it. The curlicues turned out nicely though!

Tolkien Week

Sunday was the first day of Tolkien Week - an annual observation that always occurs in September, during the week in which Hobbit Day falls. Hobbit Day, for those of you who are not card-carrying members of the Tolkien Society (as is Your's Truly) is September 22nd - Bilbo and Frodo's birthday. 

Let us all take a moment to fill our Tengwar-etched glasses with Goodly Libations, and raise them in Toast to the Professor!

I had originally intended to do a post on each day of this week, but though I have worked on a Tolkien related post each day, circumstances have conspired to ensure that I have not actually managed to publish a thing. Perhaps the rest of the week will go better?

I first of all present to you a Playlist! Please observe the sidebar, where a Tolkien playlist has replaced the Christmas one that was up there throughout Christmas.... and Lent and Easter and Pentecost. I will be adding to this Tolkien list, so do check back. I also present a small list of Things You Probably Did Not Know About Tolkien. Yes, yes, many of you count me among your more intimate acquaintances, so some of you will have heard me blaithering about this stuff. I trust, however, that the majority of it will be new.

1.) Most Tolkien fans are aware of the fact that he was a Philologist by profession, and familiar with (if not fluent in) a great number of languages. Many of them will also be aware of the fact that he wrote a number of mythic poems that were partly translations out of their original languages, and partly his own re-tellings of those stories. What most might not be aware of, is that one of his earliest efforts in this line is a poem entitled The Lay of Aotrou and Itroun, which was published in the Welsh Review in 1945. It was modeled after an old Breton style of poetry and, indeed, was taken from a Breton story. It has been notoriously difficult to find since than, and as a consequence, is not well known. It was finally republished in 2002, but only in a Serbian translation of Tolkien's original. That edition was reprinted again in August of 2015. This time, it was bilingual, published in Serbian and English, with several new illustrations commissioned for the occasion. I went crazy with excitement over that, and bought it. It is gorgeous and I love it... Now at last, after 80 years of obscurity, it is slated to be officially republished in November of this year.

From Wikipedia

2.) Most people, (even a goodly number of non-Tolkien-fans) know that Tolkien created a writing system for his elvish languages. It is not, strictly speaking, an alphabet in the same way that ours is. It is a very phonetic system, with allowances for sounds that most people don't think about - such as schwas. Furthermore, he adapted it for different languages. High Elves, who speak Quenya, had a different 'mode' for using the Tengwar, than did the Sindaran speaking Low Elves. Tolkien invented a 'mode' for English as well. (Since then, quite a number of real-life languages have had 'modes' created for them, Check out this website for some of them.) Most Tolkien fans will also be aware of the fact that he created a runic alphabet for his dwarves as well. They show up most notably on Thorin's map of the Lonely Mountain. What is less well known is that he invented yet another writing system for his Elves to use, He called it the Sarati. The Sarati differs from the other two in that it is written in columns, rather than lines. Like the Tengwar, the vowels are merely diacritic markings:

From mansbjorkman.net

3.) Tolkien worked on the Old English Dictionary during the years immediately following his demoblisation at the end of WWI. He became quite obsessed with the etymologies of the words "walrus" and "whale". 

From http://blog.oxforddictionaries.com/2013/03/walrus-in-the-oed/

4.) Tolkien worked on a translation of The Book of Jonas for the Jerusalem Bible, which was publish in 1966. A history of the project, and Tolkien's participation in it, may be found here. (Notice that Tolkien is once again dealing with a 'whale' :-) There is an interesting side note to this story for those of us who enjoy Lord of the Rings trivia. The character of Strider in The Fellowship of the Ring - and his introduction in the taproom of The Prancing Pony - was influenced in part by Tolkien's encounter with the Catholic poet, Roy Campbell, at The Eagle and Child pub, during a weekly meeting of the Inklings. Campbell was originally slated to work on the Jerusalem Bible as well - specifically, the Canticles. Given Campbell's strong, almost Elizabethan poetry, his work would have made for a very gorgeous translation. Unfortunately, Roy Campbell died in a car crash before he had a chance to complete anything. I can't help feeling that this is a great loss to the literary world, akin to Tolkien's uncompleted Fall of Arthur.

From tolkienlibrary.com

5.) There is a strong artistic streak in the family. Tolkien seems to have inherited his flair for handwritting from his mother's family: his grandfather was want to draw a circle around a little sixpence, and write out the entire Our Father in fine copperplate writing. Mable Tolkien herself wrote in a very fine hand, and taught her boys to do the same. Tolkien's grandson, Michael G. R. Tolkien, is a poet, who has also written a children's book. (The audio edition is read by Gerald Dickens, the great-great grandson of Charles Dickens!) Tim Tolkien - a great nephew of the Professor - is a sculptor of some note. He is best known for Sentinel, a modern steel sculpture of 3 Submarine Spitfires, peeling off in 3 different directions. Of more interest to Tolkien fans, he is assisting in the designing of a memorial to his great uncle, at Pembroke College. And then there is great granddaughter, Ruth Tolkien: singer, songwriter, and fencer. A blind fencer, who fights competitively. 

And on that note, I shall bid you all a good evening. I am going to have a nice cup of tea, and read Looking for the King - a book about the Inklings, which thus far has allowed its protagonists to meet Lewis and Williams, but not Tolkien - and, let us be honest. When I read a book about the Inklings, I am doing it for Tolkien.

A Toast!

via GIPHY

Today is Tolkien's Birthday. It is a festive day on this blog. We celebrate it by reading Tolkien books, listening to Tolkien music, watching Tolkien things - whether it be movies or lectures concerning the Professor is up to you - and, most importantly, filling one's cup with goodly drink, and toasting, "The Professor" at 9 pm precisely.

Today, however, I did something slightly different. I got bold. And, perhaps, a wee bit more nerdy that is usual, even for myself. Today, I joined The Tolkien Society. I get a card. I get subscriptions to Amon Hen and Mallorn magazines. I get a 15% discount if I want to take classes through the Mythgard Institute. I get the huge feeling of satisfaction that can only come to Tolkien fans, when they join and organisation that still counts him as its President. (Though the VP, his daughter, Priscilla, does most the work.)

Since I would dearly love for all of you to have something both Christmasy and Tolkien related so that all of you too, may celebrate the Author of the Century, I present this talk on The Father Christmas Letters. It is long(ish). But watch it anyway.

I hope you are all enjoying a splendid Christmas season, that the New Year has been good to you all thus far, and that you take a moment to wish J. R. R. Tolkien a happy birthday.

Hi There!

Well, golly. It has been nearly two weeks since my last post. How time flies. Not that you are missing much by my silence. There is no news. Life is life. I am taking a bit of a break from poetry after that furious spate of it last month - though I do intend to go back and read it over and clean up the best ones to keep.... or maybe even do something with them. Don't ask me what yet. Meanwhile, I am doing a bit of regular writing, and some doodling, and some reading, and watching telly... You know. Ordinary life things. 

But since I really don't want to let things languish around here, and since I have a line of tags waiting to be done, I thought I would drop in and be hilarious.

There are two Leibster Blog tags - one from Amy and one from Bella. We shall dispense with the requisite 11 random facts about myself. Either you know me well enough not to be surprised by my randomness, or you are really much happier remaining in ignorance of my eccentricity. So, straight on to the questions:

Amy has earnestly inquired:

1.) How do you feel about pool noodles?

    I don't know. I don't use pools. I swim - when I swim at all - in a lake, and use fallen trees as floatation devices.

2.) Forest or Ocean?

     Both. 

3.) On a scale of 1-10, how adorable do you think Camels are?

     Zero. A big egg. They are hideous and smelly and rude.

4.) Would you ride a camel? Keeping in mind that they spit.

      Does this camel come equipped with a zamburak? If a zamurak is involved, I might overcome my loathing of the beast for a chance at the thing. Otherwise, the only thing that would induce me to mount up would be if the fate of the world depended upon it. 

5.) Batman or Captain America?(Don't worry, I don't judge... Okay, I do, but I'll be kind.)

     Captain America. He is a good, old-fashioned gentleman. I find him refreshing.

6.) Bananas or Pineapples?

     I love pineapples excessively. Do you know if you eat too much pineapple, you can give yourself raw sores around your mouth? I know this from bitter experience. Therefore, I am going to stick with bananas. Bananas are good. All that potassium. 

7.) How well can you chop an onion?

     *sniff*. *sniff*...  My eyes..... my eyeeeeeees!

8.) Given a choice between jogging 5 miles or doing boxing for 20 minutes, what would you do?

     I frequently feel like punching people in the face, so boxing, hands down. Furthermore, I  question why anyone would run unless they were being chased... or expecting to be chased, in which case, I would suggest that they question their life choices.

9.) What was your favorite picture book as a very young child. 

      I truly do not recall. My earliest book memories are of my mother, reading aloud from  Laura Ingalls and The Outlaws of Ravenhurst.

10.) On a scale of 1-10, just how good are your reflexes?

       Um... throw something at me and we'll find out. 

    

11.) Are you a morning person or should others be afraid for their lives if they bother you before you've had your coffee?

        ARRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHH. GRAAAAAAAAWRRRRRR MMMMMMRRRRRRRRGGGGGG.

So there's Amy's questions out of the way. Bella, on the other hand, has demanded answers to the following:

1.) Do you like Mint?

     Are you referring to money?

2.) Have you ever been on a motor boat?

     Once. There was a depth finder on it, and you could tell when we hit the drop-off, because it maxed out at 1,000 ft. and stopped working. I found it hugely unnerving.

3.) Do you like Cinnamon in your Cocoa?

     YEESSSS.

4.) Have you seen The Court Jester?

     The pellet with the poison's in the flagon with the dragon. The vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true.

5.) Do you write?

      I wouldn't say so myself, but my friends all tell me I can.

6.) Firefox, Chrome, or the Big e?

     I used to prefer Internet Explorer. My old computer ran it faster than Firefox, and it did not insist on being part of every facet of my life, the way Chrome does. However, the new computer does not like Internet explorer. Firefox is constantly suspicious of very activity I use it for, so I am putting up with Chrome. And telling it no very firmly when it gets too invasive.

7.) Do you read comic books?

    If, by this, you mean have I gone through the entire Calvin and Hobbes collection, or if I have been known to read the occasional Tintin book, then yes. If you mean things like Marvel and DC, then no. The fact that I am something of a Marvel movie fan right now, comes a surprise to me. I think it is the casting and the dialogue. I have absolutely no desire to go back to the source.  

8.) Do you like Ice skating?

     I did, Once...... I don't want to talk about it.

9.) Do you like strawberries and scones?

     Och, aye. Its braw, halesome food, scones.

10.) Fantasy or Action Adventure?

      I watch what I want, and I don't care about genre. I prefer things without obligatory love interests. I find love tedious.

11.) Movies or TV shows?

       See above. 

There, don't you feel like you know me so much better now? 

And lastly....... Melody's Lord of the Rings tag. We haven't talked about Lord of the Rings in a while, have we? Ehehehe. My favourite topic :-)

1.) How were you first introduced to LotR/TH? Was it love at first sight/read?

     I don't actually remember a time when I did not know about Tolkien. My parents owned paperback copies of The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion. I remember staring at the trees on the cover of The Hobbit, trying to decide if I liked them - I was used to pine trees and not sure what to make of the things Tolkien had placed on either side of river. I did like the little Barrel-Rider, though. The Hobbit was one of the first books I read on my own, and I loved it from the very first chapter.

2.) If you could meet the actors who portray the characters in the movies, would you?

     Probably not. I sort of have them all fixed in my mind as the characters they play, and I'm content to leave it at that. However, I will say that Billy Boyd is good fun to watch in interviews. He tends to be rather thoughtful on subjects like poetry, Tolkien's world-building, and music. 

3.) What is your favourite credit song from LotR/TH?

     Credit song only? Drat. My favourite thing to come out of all the films is probably the dwarves singing about the Misty Mountains. I have a very soft spot for Into the West, especially the bit when the French horns come in an play that little fall that also plays behind the scene where Gandalf is telling Pippin about a far green country under a swift sunrise. 

4.) The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit?

     Well, I am going to take this as a question about the books rather than they movies. I have a small, leather-bound copy of The Hobbit in my purse - a gift from a sister, and my emergency reading for whenever I need such a thing. The Hobbit has the delightful quality that allows you to open it at random, and start reading with complete enjoyment from wherever your eye happens to light. It is a comforting sort of book - the chocolate brownie of Tolkien's Middle Earth. For all that, The Lord of the Rings is a better book, and I always come away from it feeling deeply moved, and determined to be a better person. 

5.) Who is your all around favourite character?

     It is always a toss-up between Pippin and Boromir for me. I identify with both of them to a certain degree, I like the way Pippin starts out as a foolish and rather soft character, who has trouble seeing the big picture, and turns into a great hero in his own right. On the other hand, I like the way Boromir starts out heroically, but falls, and so completely redeems to become more heroic than before, Both characters give me hope for my own self. And there are times when I understand Eowyn better than I ought.

6.) What is your opinion of Boromir?

     I was very young when I read The Lord of the Rings the first time - 11 or 12, I think. That first time through, I tended to agree with Sam's opinion of everyone and everything, and since Sam mistrusted Boromir, I did too. However, his death caught me hard, and I surprised myself by crying over him. I didn't read it again for a couple years, by which time, I had grown up enough to appreciate Boromir on his own terms. He wasn't my favourite character - that was Pippin at the time - but I thought that he had too much responsibility on him and pitied him. By that time, The Lord of the Rings had entered a special category of book - the book you always feel like reading, and which you have to consciously resist reading, so that you do not make yourself sick of it. I tried to wait a couple years between each reading, and the result was that as I grew and matured, the book seemed to grow and mature with me - every time I read it, there was something fresh and astonishing about it. By the time I was a young adult, I found myself liking characters I hadn't paid attention to before... and meeting all my old favourites again for the first time. And Boromir went from being the guy I was sorry for, to something astonishing - a man who was tested beyond his limits, who fell, and whose repentance was so complete that he transcended mere goodness and achieved greatness - heroic sanctity, if you will. As a result, although I am well aware that there are better characters - Faramir, for example - Boromir is the character that never fails to inspire me.

7.) How many times have you watched the movies/read the books?
     A huge number of times. Honestly, I can't even give you an estimate. (except the Hobbit movies. I've seen the first two once, and not gotten around to the last one. I love the hobbit parts. I just don't like everything else.)

8.) What book is your favourite?
     *Smirk*. Maria the smarty replies: The Lord of Rings because it is technically one book.

9.) Who is your favourite female character?
      I think I actually like Galadriel better, but the older I get, the more I tend to identify with Eowyn.

10.) Favourite male character (not mentioned in #5)?
    Beregond. He's the Tower Guard in the book, who fought off Denathor's guard's and saved Faramir's life.

11.) Which if the movies, in your opinion, has the best ending?
      The Return of the King, obviously :-)

Ta Da! Never let it be said that I scorn a tag. Or two. Or three. And now, the hour is late and the road is long. I bid you all a very fond farewell.