On September 21st, 1937, a 45 year old University of Oxford professor, named John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, published a children's fantasy book called The Hobbit, to wide critical acclaim. And the rest, as they say, is history, both our own, and that of a strange, mythical realm named Middle Earth.
Although a cataclysmic world war, academic pursuits of the highest order, and the responsibilities of a growing family would intervene, J.R.R. Tolkien published again on July 29th, 1954. The book was called The Fellowship of the Ring, the first volume of a trilogy (it was intended as a complete work, but the publisher felt it would be more marketable as a set) that would come to be known and beloved worldwide as The Lord of the Rings.
Tolkien's stated intention was to write a high epic fantasy novel in the English language, ironic in the sense that he had to create several imaginary languages to do it. And in so doing, it has become the second best-selling novel ever written, with over 150 million copies sold.
I was introduced to Tolkien's world by my junior year English teacher, Miss Buczyna. We read The Hobbit in class, and noting my enthusiasm and understanding of the text, suggested that I might want to check out the author's more adult offerings. Suffice it to say that the words I read in my paperback copies blew my mind. I met with Miss Buczyna after class to discuss my thoughts about the books. She took me to a symposium on Tolkien in downtown Chicago. She also encouraged my own attempts at writing. Alas, no matter how much my adolescent fantasies may have desired it, there was no student-teacher affair.
For better or worse, the small shelf of books penned by J.R.R. Tolkien, including those compiled by his estate, pale in comparison to the amount of literature published about his work. Many of these "biographies" attempt to reveal the allegory or analyze the symbolism interwoven into the saga, based on Tolkien's environment and experiences. They seek to rationalize Tolkien's thoughts and emotions regarding these experiences into how they affected the thoughts and emotions that made their way onto the printed page.
Although this is a tricky, and ultimately futile exercise, I know that in my own case, I certainly approached The Lord of the Rings through my own prism, and that included my expanding foray into the marijuana counterculture. It is only to be expected then, that I should interpret Tolkien's extensive references to pipeweed throughout the story through that lens.
From the outset there are several problems with this viewpoint. Firstly, these books were written and published well before the drug culture was even on the map. Secondly, Tolkien had a lifelong affection for tobacco and his well-worn pipes. And finally and unavoidably, he specifically refers to pipeweed as tobacco - "a variety probably of nicotiana."
That being said, we do no harm to Tolkien or his legacy, by suspending our disbelief, and delving into the realm of speculation that even if pipeweed is not marijuana, it should be. With that in mind, we shall proceed.
Tolkien presents us with the impossibly bucolic existence that we all long for (at least I do): rolling green hills, gentle streams, forests carpeted with dry leaves and soft pine needles, blue skies dotted with puffy, white clouds by day, and a canopy of bright stars by night, then topping it off by packing a bowl full of pipeweed. We frequent rustic country pubs and village taverns with names like the Green Dragon, the The Ivy Bush, the Forsaken Inn, and the Golden Perch; and we eat fresh, healthy foods, grown locally and naturally.
But then when the call comes, we take up arms against tyranny, cross the rugged mountains and ford the mighty river, and put our lives on the line fighting the evil bastards. And the most important piece of our gear is still our trusty bowl and stash of pipeweed.
The common name for pipeweed in Gondor is "westmansweed." Although I've limited my source material to the three volumes of The Lord of the Rings, in Unfinished Tales, (1980), Christopher Tolkien, ed., Gandalf says to Saruman upon a meeting of the White Council,
It is now time to look at the source material itself.
[All italics and highlighting throughout are mine.]
Although a cataclysmic world war, academic pursuits of the highest order, and the responsibilities of a growing family would intervene, J.R.R. Tolkien published again on July 29th, 1954. The book was called The Fellowship of the Ring, the first volume of a trilogy (it was intended as a complete work, but the publisher felt it would be more marketable as a set) that would come to be known and beloved worldwide as The Lord of the Rings.
Tolkien's stated intention was to write a high epic fantasy novel in the English language, ironic in the sense that he had to create several imaginary languages to do it. And in so doing, it has become the second best-selling novel ever written, with over 150 million copies sold.
I was introduced to Tolkien's world by my junior year English teacher, Miss Buczyna. We read The Hobbit in class, and noting my enthusiasm and understanding of the text, suggested that I might want to check out the author's more adult offerings. Suffice it to say that the words I read in my paperback copies blew my mind. I met with Miss Buczyna after class to discuss my thoughts about the books. She took me to a symposium on Tolkien in downtown Chicago. She also encouraged my own attempts at writing. Alas, no matter how much my adolescent fantasies may have desired it, there was no student-teacher affair.
For better or worse, the small shelf of books penned by J.R.R. Tolkien, including those compiled by his estate, pale in comparison to the amount of literature published about his work. Many of these "biographies" attempt to reveal the allegory or analyze the symbolism interwoven into the saga, based on Tolkien's environment and experiences. They seek to rationalize Tolkien's thoughts and emotions regarding these experiences into how they affected the thoughts and emotions that made their way onto the printed page.
Although this is a tricky, and ultimately futile exercise, I know that in my own case, I certainly approached The Lord of the Rings through my own prism, and that included my expanding foray into the marijuana counterculture. It is only to be expected then, that I should interpret Tolkien's extensive references to pipeweed throughout the story through that lens.
From the outset there are several problems with this viewpoint. Firstly, these books were written and published well before the drug culture was even on the map. Secondly, Tolkien had a lifelong affection for tobacco and his well-worn pipes. And finally and unavoidably, he specifically refers to pipeweed as tobacco - "a variety probably of nicotiana."
That being said, we do no harm to Tolkien or his legacy, by suspending our disbelief, and delving into the realm of speculation that even if pipeweed is not marijuana, it should be. With that in mind, we shall proceed.
Tolkien presents us with the impossibly bucolic existence that we all long for (at least I do): rolling green hills, gentle streams, forests carpeted with dry leaves and soft pine needles, blue skies dotted with puffy, white clouds by day, and a canopy of bright stars by night, then topping it off by packing a bowl full of pipeweed. We frequent rustic country pubs and village taverns with names like the Green Dragon, the The Ivy Bush, the Forsaken Inn, and the Golden Perch; and we eat fresh, healthy foods, grown locally and naturally.
But then when the call comes, we take up arms against tyranny, cross the rugged mountains and ford the mighty river, and put our lives on the line fighting the evil bastards. And the most important piece of our gear is still our trusty bowl and stash of pipeweed.
The common name for pipeweed in Gondor is "westmansweed." Although I've limited my source material to the three volumes of The Lord of the Rings, in Unfinished Tales, (1980), Christopher Tolkien, ed., Gandalf says to Saruman upon a meeting of the White Council,
"You might find that smoke blown out cleared your mind of shadows within. Anyway, it gives patience, to listen to error without anger."Additionally, Gandalf learns to smoke pipeweed from the Hobbits of long ago, and delights in the making of magical smoke rings.
It is now time to look at the source material itself.
[All italics and highlighting throughout are mine.]
"Concerning Pipeweed": Prologue - The Lord of the Rings
There is another thing about the Hobbits of old that must be mentioned, an astonishing habit: they imbibed or inhaled through pipes of clay or wood, the smoke of the burning leaves of an herb, which they called 'pipeweed' or 'leaf'.... A great deal of mystery surrounds the origin of this peculiar custom, or 'art' as the Hobbits preferred to call it.
[Meriadoc Brandybuck remarks] "For ages, folk in the Shire smoked various herbs, some fouler some sweeter. But all accounts agree that Tobold Hornblower of Longbottom in the Southfarthing first grew the true pipeweed in his gardens in the days of Isengrim the Second, about the year 1070 of Shire Reckoning. The best home-grown still comes from that district, especially the varieties known as Longbottom Leaf, Old Toby, and Southern Star.
"It is thus quite possible that he learned of this plant in Bree, where now, at any rate, it still grows well on the south slopes of the hill. The Bree Hobbits claim to have been the first actual smokers of pipeweed.... And certainly it was from Bree that the art of smoking the genuine weed spread in the recent centuries among dwarves and other such folk, rangers, wizards, or other wanderers as still passed to and fro through that ancient road meeting."
The renowned Meriadoc (Merry) Brandybuck, Fellow of the Ring, Swordswain to the King of Rohan, and later Master of Buckland, saw fit to write a book entitled, Herblore of the Shire.
A passage in the chapter "Shadows of the Past" in The Fellowship of the Ring reads:
Gandalf was thinking of a spring, nearly eighty years before, when Bilbo had run out of Bag End without a handkerchief. His hair was perhaps whiter than it had been, and his beard and eyebrows were perhaps longer, and his face more lined with care and wisdom; but his eyes were as bright as ever, and he smoked and blew smoke rings with the same vigour and delight.
In "A Journey in the Dark," Gandalf says to Pippin,
"Get into a corner and have a sleep, my lad," he said in a kindly tone. "You want to sleep, I expect. I cannot get a wink, so I may as well do the watching. I know what is the matter with me," he muttered, as he sat down by the door. "I need smoke! I have not tasted it since the morning before the snowstorm." The last thing that Pippin saw, as sleep took him, was a dark glimpse of the old wizard huddled on the floor, shielding a glowing chip in his gnarled hands between his knees. The flicker for a moment showed his sharp nose, and the puff of smoke.
Our first impression, in the common room of the inn at Bree, of Aragorn, Strider, Ellesar, Elfstone, Isildur's heir, the Renewer, Wingfoot, Chieftain of the Dunadain, Lord of the West (who has many names) comes in the chapter, "At the Sign of the Prancing Pony."
Suddenly, Frodo noticed that a strange looking, weather beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the Hobbit talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long stemmed pipe curiously carved.
One passage in the Chapter, "The Ring Goes South," sets the mood for the epic journey which is to follow -
Sam eased the pack on his shoulders and went over anxiously in his mind all the things that he had stowed in it, wondering if he had forgotten anything: his chief treasure, his cooking gear, and the little box of salt that he always carried and refilled when he could; a good supply of pipeweed (but not enough I'll warrant); flint and tinder...and various small belongings of his master's that Frodo had forgotten and Sam had stowed to bring them out in triumph when they were called for.
Further on in the same chapter, the company of the Ring is overtaken by crows, spies of the traitor Saruman, so they could light no fire. Peregrin Took complains that he had been looking forward to a good, hot meal.
"Well, you can go on looking forward," said Gandalf. "There may be many unexpected feasts ahead for you. For myself I should like a pipe to smoke in comfort, and warmer feet."
In The Two Towers, after the battle of Helm's Deep, King Theoden and his men ride up to the gates of Isengard, which are now in ruin, and behold a strange sight:
There they saw close beside them a great rubble heap and suddenly they were aware of two small figures lying on it at their ease, grey clad, hardly to be seen among the stones. There were bottles and bowls and platters laid beside them as if they had just eaten well and were now preparing to rest from their labor. One seemed asleep; the other, with crossed legs and arms behind his head, leaned back against a broken rock and sent forth from his mouth long wisps of little rings of thin blue smoke.
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are reunited with Merry and Pippin, in "Flotsam and Jetsam." A long passage ensues as the travelers relate the tales of their adventures amidst food, drink, and yes, pipeweed. Merry says,
"But first...you shall fill your pipes and light up. And then for a little while we can pretend that we are all back safe at Bree again, or at Rivendell."
He produced a small leather bag....
"We have heaps of it," he said.... "It was Pippin who found two small barrels washed up out of some cellar or storehouse, I suppose. When we opened them we found they were filled with this: as fine a pipeweed as you could wish for and quite unspoilt."
Gimli took some and rubbed it in his palms and sniffed it. "It feels good, and it smells good," he said.
"It is good!" said Merry. "My dear Gimli, it is Longbottom Leaf! There were the Hornblower brandmarks on the barrels, as plain as plain. How it came here, I can't imagine. For Saruman's private use I fancy."
Gimli asks the Hobbits if any pipes were to be had in all their plunder.
"No, I am afraid not," said Merry.... "We shall have to share pipes as good friends must in a pinch."
The passage concludes:
They smoked in silence for a while, and upon them shone the sun, slanting into the valley from among white clouds high in the West. Legolas lay still, looking up at the sun and sky with steady eyes, and singing softly to himself. At last he sat up. "Come now!" he said. "Time wears on, and the mists are blowing away or would if you strange folk did not wreathe yourselves in smoke. What of the tale?"
The cultural role that pipeweed played in the ethos of Middle Earth can be seen in this emotional exchange as Merry lies in Gondor in the Houses of Healing in the chapter by the same name. He has just been called back from the brink of death by Aragorn, after helping the Lady Eowyn destroy the Lord of the Nazgul, the dreaded Witch King of Angmar. Upon awakening, Pippin tells Merry that he can have anything he wants.
"Good!" said Merry. "Then I would like supper first, and after that a pipe." At that his face clouded. "No, not a pipe. I don't think I'll smoke again."
"Why not?" said Pippin.
"Well," answered Merry slowly, "Theoden, King of Rohan, is dead. It has brought it all back to me. He said he was sorry he had never had a chance of talking herblore with me. Almost the last thing he ever said. I shan't ever be able to smoke again without thinking of him."
"Smoke then, and think of him!" said Aragorn. "For he was a gentle heart and a great king and kept his oaths; and he rose out of the shadows to a last fair morning. Though your service to him was brief, it should be a memory glad and honorable to the end of your days."
In The Return of the King, on the journey home from their great adventures, Gandalf and the Hobbits arrive back at Bree, comfortably ensconced in their rooms in the Prancing Pony. Gandalf says to Barliman Butterbur,
"We were wet, cold and hungry, but all that you have cured. Come, sit down! And if you have any pipeweed, we'll bless you."Somewhat dismayed by this request, Butterbur warns the Hobbits that all may not be well at home in the Shire.
We then come to the pivotal chapter "The Scouring of the Shire." Finding the gates barred against them, the Hobbits are forced to seek lodging in the ugly, hard gate-house. Sam says to one of the Hobbit guards,
"Well now, what about a smoke while you tell us what has been happening in the Shire?"
"There isn't no pipeweed now," said Hob; "at least only for the Chief's men. All the stocks seem to have gone."
"That's quite enough," said Sam. "I don't want to hear no more. No welcome, no beer, no smoke, and a lot of rules and orc talk instead."
The last of the Eldar Race in Middle Earth meet with the Hobbits on the quays of the Grey Havens. The Lady Galadriel, whose magic dust has helped restore the Shire, asks Sam about the fruits of his labors -
In the Southfarthing the vines were laden and the yield of leaf was astonishing; and everywhere there was so much corn at harvest time that every barn was stuffed.
If I may be permitted, I would like to share one last quote, that pertains to a particular side-effect of the smoking of pipeweed. So as we started with an excerpt from the Prologue, so too shall we end with one. Speaking of Hobbits, it states:
Their faces as a rule were good natured rather than beautiful, broad, bright eyed, red cheeked with mouths apt to laughter, and to eating and drinking. And laugh they did, and eat and drink, often and heartily, being fond of simple jests at all times, and of six meals a day, when they could get them.
Well, what else would you expect with all the smoking of pipeweed that was going on!?
2002 "Hobbit Pipe" by John Howe
No comments:
Post a Comment