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thewincheters:

Happy Birthday, Frodo Baggins and Bilbo Baggins (September 22)! And a very happy hobbit day!
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tolkiensource:

                                                                        Happy Hobbit Day!

The American Tolkien Society first proclaimed Hobbit Day and Tolkien Week in 1978, and defines them as this: “Tolkien Week is observed as the calendar week containing September 22, which is always observed as Hobbit Day”, but acknowledges that Hobbit Day pre-dates their designation. Hobbit Day is the birthday of the hobbits Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, two fictional characters in J. R. R. Tolkien’s popular set of books The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. In the books both Bilbo and Frodo were said to be born on September 22, but of different years.
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words-writ-in-starlight:

princehal9000:

ok but what if

the tolkien dwarves invented the printing press

give me that fic

I never thought about it, but, I mean…of course it’s the dwarves.  

The elves would never think of it, fading out of Middle Earth with their perfect memories entirely intact, bearing the lore of ages in their own lifetimes.  Elrond would never think to write down the story of his life, for all that it stretches back to the Silmarils’ crafting.  When they do write things down, they believe in taking the time to inscribe the words with their own hand–no one knows the hard truths of permanence and impermanence like the Firstborn, and if you are going to take the time to make something ephemeral into something lasting, you do it right.  And besides, Quenya and Sindarin and forgotten Noldorin, all are made with elaborate curling letters, intended more to be written with a brush tip or a calligrapher’s pen than printed for clarity.  A printing press would never capture the fluidity quite right.

The race of men…well, they’re still trying to recover.  The great kingdoms of the human race–hard Gondor and broken Arnor, wild Rohan and poor shattered Harad to the South–took the brunt of the Ring War hardest of all.  Even the strongest of them is left in fragments.  New rulers, damaged walls, burned cities.  Not many have time, in those first years–and it does take years–to worry about the lore that might have been lost or muddled by water and fire and falling stone, not when there are still leaderless orcs roving and people starving as they try to stretch the harvests.  By the time they do, they’re trying to piece together what they used to have.  No one thinks twice about trying to piece it together the way it was, and the way it was, was handwritten.  Someday the race of men will be great innovators, reaching toward the stars with sure hands and bright eyes.  Now, though, the race of men is enduring, is rebuilding and making alliances, trying to prevent the losses of the war from reappearing ten, twenty, a hundred years down the line.  They are doing well, at enduring–pragmatists, grim and tough and determined–but they hardly have the time for mechanical marvels that don’t aid building, speed farmwork, or otherwise smooth the path.

The hobbits persist in being stubbornly hobbitish.  Oral history is what they do, and their memories for family ties and dramatic gossip could give the oldest Eldest a run for their money.  Who’s going to bother to write down the story of the time Athella Proudfoot–no, not that one, the other one, Odo’s great-great-great aunt–drank half the tavern under the table, got up on the bar, did a jig in nothing but her bloomers, and then settled in to drink the place dry?  (And still looked fresh as a daisy, if quite a bit less sober, the next morning.)  No one, because anyone you ask knows the story of everyone who ever did anything worth knowing the story of.  What do the hobbits care for legends and lore?  They know who they are and where they come from, songs and stories and all, and there’s a certain level of strength in that.  Strength enough to walk into Mordor, strength enough to reclaim the Shire.  

The dwarves…the dwarves are a people who once had libraries, sweeping and beautifully full of knowledge.  The libraries in Khazad-dum have rotted, by now, ransacked by orcs and goblins or burned entire by Durin’s Bane.  Books and scrolls, illuminated with precious metals and expensive inks by the finest scholars, are worth nothing to a dragon, nothing but fuel for amusement, things to send sparking.  The library where Dis learned to read, where Thorin and Thrain before him learned statecraft, are nothing but ash.  The Iron Hills, Ered Luin, those places were filled by a people seeking refuge.  Few dwarrows snatched tomes as they fled Erebor.  Fewer still kept them at the ruin of Azanulbizar.  The dwarves escaped their ancestral homes with the clothes on their backs and scraps of bread baked on stones, with the pyres of the burned dwarves still smoldering behind them.

It’s a survivor of that flight who scratches down the first idle plans.  She remembers seeing Dain Ironfoot, barely more than a child–but then he seemed such a grown-up to her, at the time, when she was still a beardless babe only just walking–bloodied and limping on a crutch as he stood up to claim the leadership his father had left in his wake.  Dain and Thorin, young dwarrows still, but already old with the weight of the world.  She remembers that better than the dragon, better than the battle.  Her mother died in Ered Luin, but not before writing a poem for the burned ones, a poem for the two dwarves who had surrendered their own youth for the sake of their people.  She can’t stand the idea of her mother’s poem being lost, the way so many things were lost in flight after flight.

That dwarrowdam dies, an old dwarf in her bed with her loved ones around her, and it’s her best friend’s daughter who comes across the plans, many years later.  Yes, she thinks, looking at the levers, at the vague notes about possible lettering methods, yes, that could work.  

It doesn’t work, at first.  It doesn’t work a lot, really, but the dwarves are a stoneheaded bunch and not in a rush to be put off by a few petty failings.  Or by a total collapse of the base mechanics, the first time she tries to pull the lever.  The dwarrowdam unearths herself from a pile of metal and gears and wood, with the help of a few other folks who heard the complicated crash and weary cursing, and starts again. 

It takes most of two years and a lot of brainstorming–first with her friends, then with her guild, then with any poor fool careless enough to wander into her workshop–but the scribe-machine works.  She shrieks and bursts into tears when the first page comes out crisp and clean and beautiful, and sprints into the great hall waving it triumphantly over her head.

The paper says, in kuzdh runes, plain and clear, We are Mahal’s children, and we are yet unbroken.
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phantom-of-the-trash-blog:

thebibliosphere:

nosoundinspace:

buckyforcap:

glumshoe:

absynthe–minded:

glumshoe:

I pretend to be complex and clever but in reality, nothing has ever made me laugh harder than those bad Chinese subtitles from the bootleg Lord of the Rings DVDs. Tears streaming down my face, core aching, slowly suffocating because I’m laughing too hard.

also (because one can never have too many of these)

and my personal favorite:

I somehow forgot to add my own favorite, which is this one:

I also appreciate the ones that really change the tone and suggest that the characters openly loathe each other…

and this one, which gently encourages self-care:

listen you guys forgot some important ones

ya’ll forgot the best one

*inarticulate wheezing noises*

I swear to fucking god
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lollard:

ihavealotoffeelings:

jrrtolkiennerd:

gwuscrc:

Gandalf breaking all the rules. 

The Minas Tirith Archives Department probably had strict rules about proper record keeping procedures too, but try telling Gandalf anything and you’d probably get some form of “I do what I want.”@nerdyveganrunner

Eh, I’m gonna quibble with “the Minas Tirith Archives Department probably has strict rules about proper record keeping procedures”, given that we see Gandalf being shown into a poorly lit room full of jumbled stacks of books and loose papers that was clearly a disaster before he arrived. Maybe they did have good standards at one point, but Denethor cut the library budget and they had to downsize their storage space, let go of some staff, you know how it is.

#DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON MINAS TIRITH’S POOR ARCHIVAL STANDARDS#I HAVE RANTED ABOUT THEM BEFORE#I WILL RANT ABOUT THEM AGAIN#I HAVE A TAG SPECIFICALLY FOR RANTING ABOUT THE MINAS TIRITH ARCHIVES#much that once was has been lost for none now live who can remember where we shelved it
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neuxue:

Okay I know we always go on about Marvel’s uncanny casting ability. 

But if you thought they were the only ones, let me draw your attention to this man:

Viggo Mortensen, aka Aragorn son of Arathorn, aka Sexiest Ranger in Middle Earth

would hike, often for more than a day, to remote filming locations, in costume, for the sake of authenticity

was the best swordsman Bob Anderson (swordsmaster/instructor for LotR, Pirates of the Caribbean, etc) says he has ever trained

occasionally writes poetry (more book!canon than film!canon but um hello)

does all his own stunts

lived all over and speaks about 23940209384 languages

you know that scene at the end of Fellowship when he’s fighting the Uruk-hai? And one throws a dagger at him and he hits it away with his sword? Yeah, the guy who threw it was supposed to miss, but accidentally threw it directly at Viggo. Who just casually Aragorned and hit it away. 

They actually cast Aragorn to play Aragorn
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fuck-yeah-middle-earth:

Hobbits really are amazing creatures. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years, they can still surprise you.
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diana-prince:

Sauron has yet to reveal his deadliest servant. The one who will lead Mordor’s armies in war. The one they say no living man can kill.
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cantinaband:

The crownless again shall be King.
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foxy-nerdy:

That armor looks like a lot to put on [Eowyn by Magali Villeneuve]
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Photo

May. 16th, 2017 01:46 am
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thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

bag-gins:

we all know thats a load of shit gandalf

Lying is WRONG Gandalf
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“Oliphaunts. Like elephants, but pronounced cooler.”
- J.R.R. Tolkien, waking up at 3 am in a cold sweat with an amazing idea for a fantasy creature that he simply must share with the world (via lotrfansaredorcs)
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greenekangaroo:

mrs-jack-turner:

maskednocturnalvigilantism:

paramaline:

shout out to thorin oakenshield for getting lost in the shire not once, but twice

#not all those who wander are lost #(but some are)

too majestic to ask for directions

Even the ring wraiths asked for directions.

Even the ring wraiths asked for directions 

I can imagine how it went
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orlandobloom:

make me choose:  barricadesandfeathers asked: aragorn or strider?
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6) Tolkien’s hero was average, and needed help, and failed.

This is the place where most fantasy authors, who love to simultaneously call themselves Tolkien’s heirs and blame him for a lot of what’s wrong with modern fantasy, err the worst. It’s hard to look at Frodo and see him as someone extra-special. The hints in the books that a higher power did choose him are so quiet as to be unnoticeable. And he wouldn’t have made it as far as he did without his companions. And he doesn’t keep from falling into temptation.

A lot of modern fantasy heroes are completely opposite from this. They start out extraordinary, and they stay that way. Other characters are there to train them, or be shallow antagonists and love interests and worshippers, not actually help them. And they don’t fail. (Damn it, I want to see more corrupted fantasy heroes.) It’s not fair to blame Tolkien for the disease that fantasy writers have inflicted on themselves. […]

Fantasy could use more ordinary people who are afraid and don’t know what the hell they’re doing, but volunteer for the Quest anyway.

It’s misinterpretation of Tolkien that’s the problem, not Tolkien himself.


-

“Tolkien Cliches,” Limyaael

(via mithtransdir)

The whole point of The Lord Of The Rings… like, the WHOLE POINT… is that it is ultimately the hobbits who save the world. The small, vulnerable, ordinary people who aren’t great warriors or heroes.

Specifically, Sam. Sam saves the world. All of it. The ultimate success of the great quest is 100% due to a fat little gardener who likes to cook and never wanted to go on an adventure but who did it because he wasn’t going to let his beloved Frodo go off alone. Frodo is the only one truly able to handle the ring long enough to get it into Mordor - and it nearly kills him and permanently emotionally damages him - but Sam is the one who takes care of Frodo that whole time. Who makes him eat. Who finds him water. Who watches over him while he sleeps.

Sam is the one who fights off Shelob.

Sam is the one who takes the Ring when he thinks Frodo is dead.

Sam is the one who strolls into Orc Central and saves Frodo by sheer determination and killing any orc who crosses him. (SAM THE GARDENER GOES AND KILLS AN ACTUAL ORC TO GET FRODO SOME CLOTHES LET’S JUST THINK ABOUT THAT). And then Sam just takes off the Ring and gives it back which is supposed to be freaking impossible and he barely even hesitates.

Sam literally carries Frodo on the last leg of the journey. On his back. He’s half-starved, dying slowly of dehydration, but he carries Frodo up the goddamn mountain and Gollum may get credit for accidentally destroying the ring but Sam was the one who got them all there.

Sam saved the world.

And let’s not forget Pippin and Merry, who get damselled out of the story (the orcs have carried them off! We must make a Heroic Run To Save Them!) and then rescue themselves, recruit the Terrifying Ancient Powers through being genuinely nice and sincere, and overthrow Saruman before the ‘real’ heroes even get there.

Let’s not forget Pippin single-handedly saving what’s left of Gondor - and Faramir - by understanding that there is a time for obeying orders and a time for realizing that the boss is bugfuck nuts and we need to get help right now.

Let’s not forget Merry sticking his sword into the terrifying, profoundly evil horror that has chased him all over his world because his friend is fighting it and he’s gonna help, dammit and that’s how the most powerful Ringwraith goes down to a suicidally depressed woman and a scared little hobbit.

Everything the others do, the kings and princes and great heroes and all? They buy time.  They distract the bad guys. They keep the armies occupied. That is what kings and great leaders are for - they do the big picture stuff.

But it is ultimately the hobbits who bring down every villain. Every one. And I believe that that is 100% on purpose. Tolkien was a soldier in WWI. His son fought in WWII. (And a lot of The Lord Of The Rings was written in letters to him while he did it.)

And hey, look, The Lord Of The Rings is about ordinary people - farmers, scholars, and so on - who get pulled into a war not of their making but who have to fight not only because their own home is in danger but so is everyone’s. And they’re small and scared but they do the best they can for as long as they can and that is what actually saves the world. Not great heroes and pre-destined kings. Ordinary people, doing extraordinary things because they want the world to be safe for ordinary people, the ones they know and the ones they don’t.

Ordinary people matter. They can save the world without being great heroes or kings or whatever. And that is really important and I get so upset when people miss that because Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli and Gandalf and all the others are great characters and all but they are ultimately a hobbit delivery system.

It is ordinary people doing their best who really change the world, and continue doing so after the war is over because they have to go home and rebuild and they do.

If nothing else, I have to reblog this for the phrase “hobbit delivery system.” So accurate it hurts.

(via elenilote)

What I love too is how even the foretold king and the assorted great heroes themselves all come to recognize that their main (and by the end, only) role is to distract Sauron. To the point that by the end they’re all gathered up before the black gates of Mordor in order to keep his attention focused on them, with only the hope - not the certainty - that they can buy Frodo whatever remaining time he needs, if he’s even still alive.

One thing the movies left out but has always been such a key part of the books for me was how when the hobbits returned home, they found that home had been changed too. The war touched everywhere. Even with all they did in far-off lands to protect the Shire, the Shire had still been damaged, both property and lives destroyed, and it wasn’t an easy or simplistically happy homecoming. They had to fight yet another battle (granted a much smaller one) to save their neighbours, and then spent years in rebuilding.

(via garrusscars)

In many ways, the entire POINT is that homecoming.
A quest, an adventure, is defined by the return home, and the realization that not only have YOU changed, so has your home.

(via mymyriadmusings)

“My friends, you bow to no one.”

(via sorrelchestnut)

“I will take the Ring", he said, “though I do not know the way.”

(via thegreencarousel)

How many hero quest stories have you read where the protagonists go out, save the world, and then come back so depressed that they can’t even return to their regular life? Ordinary people are wounded and traumatized by war - Tolkien lost the majority of his childhood friends in WWI and he wasn’t the same afterwards. 

(via redheadgleek)
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karlmordo:

gif request meme: ohjohn asked tolkien + favorite minor character

eowyn;

The women of this country learned long ago, those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain.
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whiskey-and-c41:

lollard:

ihavealotoffeelings:

jrrtolkiennerd:

gwuscrc:

Gandalf breaking all the rules. 

The Minas Tirith Archives Department probably had strict rules about proper record keeping procedures too, but try telling Gandalf anything and you’d probably get some form of “I do what I want.”@nerdyveganrunner

Eh, I’m gonna quibble with “the Minas Tirith Archives Department probably has strict rules about proper record keeping procedures”, given that we see Gandalf being shown into a poorly lit room full of jumbled stacks of books and loose papers that was clearly a disaster before he arrived. Maybe they did have good standards at one point, but Denethor cut the library budget and they had to downsize their storage space, let go of some staff, you know how it is.

#DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON MINAS TIRITH’S POOR ARCHIVAL STANDARDS#I HAVE RANTED ABOUT THEM BEFORE#I WILL RANT ABOUT THEM AGAIN#I HAVE A TAG SPECIFICALLY FOR RANTING ABOUT THE MINAS TIRITH ARCHIVES#much that once was has been lost for none now live who can remember where we shelved it

@gallicinvasion @fisadeepforestgreen
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lyanasnow:

What are we holding on to, Sam?
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