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A review by neilrcoulter
The Art of the Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien by J.R.R. Tolkien
5.0
The only thing better than reading Tolkien is reading a book about Tolkien. And when it comes to books about Tolkien, the husband-and-wife team of Wayne Hammond and Christina Scull have written some of the best. I’d previously enjoyed their beautiful book The Art of The Hobbit, and the next volume, The Art of The Lord of the Rings, sat on my shelf for quite a while, just waiting for the right time to enjoy it. After a summer of heavy academic reading and preparation for new courses I’m designing and teaching, it was refreshing to return to Tolkien’s creation of Middle-Earth.
The Art of The Lord of the Rings is somewhat different from the earlier book about The Hobbit because Tolkien didn’t complete full-color, watercolor illustrations for the publication of LOTR as he had for The Hobbit. That means that the content of this volume is much more preliminary, not leading to the kind of classic Hobbit illustrations we see so often reprinted. This was fine with me, though, because Hammond and Scull have structured the book to go in story order, so reading through it is a fun way to revisit the story, even if many of the illustrations are somewhat minimal (page 49, for example).
A lot of pages in the book are devoted to Tolkien’s map-making, which worked hand-in-hand with his writing of the prose. In Tolkien’s mind, he absolutely had to know what the geography of Middle-Earth was in order to continue moving his characters toward the conclusion of the story. Maps of Middle-Earth were not an afterthought, pieced together from details in the story; they were integral through the whole process. It makes arriving at a chapter title like “The First Map of Middle-Earth” quite a thrill. That said, however, I’ve read the twelve-volume History of Middle-Earth series, in which Tolkien’s son Christopher can easily write pages and pages (and pages) about the smallest details of the map-making. As interested as I am in the creation of Middle-Earth, Christopher’s level of detail sometimes wearied me. Hammond and Scull, on the other hand, write more generally, not getting so lost in the minutiae, and their writing also benefits from its placement right next to color reproductions of the draft maps they’re discussing. So I found this book a much more pleasant way to understand Tolkien’s maps.
The pages I enjoyed the most in The Art of The Lord of the Rings were the ones that showed how Tolkien carefully prepared elements that would appear in the book, along with the final pages that show his development of ideas for the dustjackets. Though he didn’t complete any watercolor illustrations for the publication (which is really a shame when I see how far he got with some wonderfully evocative pictures—“Old Man Willow” (42); “Moria Gate” (64); “The Forest of Lothlorien in Spring” (88); “Orthanc” (106)—he did create various elements of calligraphy and other design-work for publication. I was fascinated to look over his shoulder in those processes of design to see what aspects bothered him and what delighted him. Also, because my favorite boxed set of LOTR features the dustjackets Tolkien designed, I loved seeing the thought that went into those designs—much more care than I would have imagined!
Overall, what The Art of The Lord of the Rings conveys is a sense of a master creator at work. We get to see some of the tensions Tolkien experienced. He had a concept of the perfect ideal that he wanted to create; but he also felt the limitations of deadlines, money, publisher’s demands, his other jobs and family duties, and his own perceived limitations, particularly in the artwork. It’s interesting to see how often his publisher would request something from him, and he would first respond, “No no, I have neither time nor inclination to work on that right now”; but then you can see how the idea worked into his mind, and he would send another response, saying, “Ok, I think this should be done, and I will see what I can do by a certain date, but no promises.” There was always a higher standard, a more perfect realization of his idea, just out of his reach, and his creative process moved not in a smooth line toward that, but in fits and starts, periods of intense, productive work, and frustrating periods of no work at all. I’m sure in his mind this also fit into his theology—that there is a perfect Creator, and we are but “subcreators,” following after the perfect one as best we can.
I enjoyed reading and discussing this book with a rather bookish friend here at GR. :)
The Art of The Lord of the Rings is somewhat different from the earlier book about The Hobbit because Tolkien didn’t complete full-color, watercolor illustrations for the publication of LOTR as he had for The Hobbit. That means that the content of this volume is much more preliminary, not leading to the kind of classic Hobbit illustrations we see so often reprinted. This was fine with me, though, because Hammond and Scull have structured the book to go in story order, so reading through it is a fun way to revisit the story, even if many of the illustrations are somewhat minimal (page 49, for example).
A lot of pages in the book are devoted to Tolkien’s map-making, which worked hand-in-hand with his writing of the prose. In Tolkien’s mind, he absolutely had to know what the geography of Middle-Earth was in order to continue moving his characters toward the conclusion of the story. Maps of Middle-Earth were not an afterthought, pieced together from details in the story; they were integral through the whole process. It makes arriving at a chapter title like “The First Map of Middle-Earth” quite a thrill. That said, however, I’ve read the twelve-volume History of Middle-Earth series, in which Tolkien’s son Christopher can easily write pages and pages (and pages) about the smallest details of the map-making. As interested as I am in the creation of Middle-Earth, Christopher’s level of detail sometimes wearied me. Hammond and Scull, on the other hand, write more generally, not getting so lost in the minutiae, and their writing also benefits from its placement right next to color reproductions of the draft maps they’re discussing. So I found this book a much more pleasant way to understand Tolkien’s maps.
The pages I enjoyed the most in The Art of The Lord of the Rings were the ones that showed how Tolkien carefully prepared elements that would appear in the book, along with the final pages that show his development of ideas for the dustjackets. Though he didn’t complete any watercolor illustrations for the publication (which is really a shame when I see how far he got with some wonderfully evocative pictures—“Old Man Willow” (42); “Moria Gate” (64); “The Forest of Lothlorien in Spring” (88); “Orthanc” (106)—he did create various elements of calligraphy and other design-work for publication. I was fascinated to look over his shoulder in those processes of design to see what aspects bothered him and what delighted him. Also, because my favorite boxed set of LOTR features the dustjackets Tolkien designed, I loved seeing the thought that went into those designs—much more care than I would have imagined!
Overall, what The Art of The Lord of the Rings conveys is a sense of a master creator at work. We get to see some of the tensions Tolkien experienced. He had a concept of the perfect ideal that he wanted to create; but he also felt the limitations of deadlines, money, publisher’s demands, his other jobs and family duties, and his own perceived limitations, particularly in the artwork. It’s interesting to see how often his publisher would request something from him, and he would first respond, “No no, I have neither time nor inclination to work on that right now”; but then you can see how the idea worked into his mind, and he would send another response, saying, “Ok, I think this should be done, and I will see what I can do by a certain date, but no promises.” There was always a higher standard, a more perfect realization of his idea, just out of his reach, and his creative process moved not in a smooth line toward that, but in fits and starts, periods of intense, productive work, and frustrating periods of no work at all. I’m sure in his mind this also fit into his theology—that there is a perfect Creator, and we are but “subcreators,” following after the perfect one as best we can.
I enjoyed reading and discussing this book with a rather bookish friend here at GR. :)