Bookish Things: The Ring of Words

In keeping with posts related to J.R.R. Tolkien’s work, I decided to have a look at some interesting books relating to etymology, philology and language. To start with –

The Ring of Words: Tolkien and the Oxford English Dictionary byP. Gilliver, J. Marshall and E. Weiner

The book opens with a quote by Robert Louis Stevenson:

Bright is the ring of words

When the right man rings them,

Fair the fall of songs

When the singer sings them.

Courtesy of OUP

Anyone who has read Tolkien’s works will know of the superb way in which language is used throughout his works. For those (like me) who suddenly found a new world of etymology opened to them, the giddy joy of finding words Tolkien used in other texts is a simple pleasure. As a Tolkien fan, for example, reading the Anglo-Saxon poem “Crist” is a sure way of becoming addicted to the Old English corpus. 

Overview

The book’s first two chapters cover “Tolkien as Lexicographer” and “Tolkien as Wordwright” and examines the craft and care with which Tolkien approached his work. It also gives an insight to the world of lexicography and what it is that lexicographers do*. The bulk of the book, however, is spent on Word Studies. These are given in alphabetical order, and each given ample space for references to Tolkien’ work and other literary sources.

But, whether or not you are an admirer of Tolkien’s work; The Ring of Words, is a delight to anyone who is interested in etymology. The words covered in the book range from elf and dwarf to dwimmerlaik and ruel-bone. The work does not only cover words found in the books regarding Middle-Earth, but also from his other fiction. Blunderbuss, for example, is also included in the word studies. The book’s language is easily accessible, though it may be more interesting to those who are somewhat familiar with Tolkien’s legendarium. Gilliver, et al. have compiled a book for lay readers as well those already familiar with the history of English and other Germanic languages. It is hardly a “stuffy academic” book.

Want to know more?

If you would like to know more about this book, head on over to Oxford University Press or iTunes and download the podcast.

Further reading:

For more about Tolkien’s creation of Middle-Earth, I highly recommend Tom Shippey’s The Road toMiddle-Earth: How J.R.R. Tolkien Created a New Mythology, and John Garth’s Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold ofMiddle-Earth.

* Lexicographers do not spend their time trying to keep new words from entering dictionaries, for example.

Books:Gilliver, J., J. Marshall and E. Weiner. (2006). The Ring of Words: Tolkien and the OxfordEnglish Dictionary. Oxford University Press.

Shippey, T. (2003).The Road toMiddle-Earth: How J.R.R. Tolkien Created a New Mythology. Houghton Mifflin.

Garth, J. (2003).Tolkien andthe Great War: The Threshold of Middle-Earth. HarperCollins.

It's here! The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug - Official Main Trailer [HD]

Tree-hugging is good for the soul

There is something awe-inspiring about trees and forests. Something calming and eternal in their majesty as they reach out towards heaven. This isn’t so apparent when the trees are still young, but standing in front of a tree which is old or even ancient and yet is alive takes your breath away.

There is a well-known tree in the Knysna Forest, the King Edward VII tree, which is older than 650 years. To put that into perspective… the year is 1362…

In Europe it is the time of the High Middle Ages. In February of that year, King Magnus Eriksson’s son Haakon proclaims himself king of Sweden. On April 6 is the Battle of Brignais. Pope Urban V succeeds Pope Innocent VI as the 200th pope. Muhammed V, Sultan of Granada, returns to the throne after the murder of Muhammed VI. Under Edward III, English begins to replace French as England’s official language. The Ottomans capture Philippopolis and Adrianople from the Byzantine Empire, reducing it to the city of Constantinople. And in the Knysna Forest a seed of the Kalander tree starts growing.

It would be over a hundred years before Columbus would sail to America or the Cape of Storms – later to become the Cape of Good Hope – would be rounded by Portuguese sailors. It would be nearly three centuries before a halfway station would be started in the Cape of Good Hope, starting a settlement which would in a few more centuries become the Republic of South Africa.

It would be over six and a half centuries later when, armed with a digital camera; a tree-lover would visit it in the forest to first stand in awe… and then give it a hug. Well, do you blame me? I just couldn’t resist!

Inspiration Friday – “The Mewlips” by JRR Tolkien

(This post first appeared on 2 September 2011.)

For this Friday’s inspiration I’ve chosen one of JRR Tolkien’s poems; “The Mewlips”. I first read it in the Tolkien Reader and it forms part of The Adventures of Tom Bombadil. And there is a video where Tolkien reads the poem linked underneath the text of the poem!

Do you have any eerie or scary poems you love? Or perhaps a favourite monster? Have you created you own type of monster, perhaps? (During your worldbuilding, of course, not in your basement using some lightning rods and illegally harvested body parts.)

The Mewlips

The Shadows where the Mewlips dwell
Are dark and wet as ink,
And slow and softly rings their bell,
As in the slime you sink.

You sink into the slime, who dare
To knock upon their door,
While down the grinning gargoyles stare
And noisome waters pour.

Beside the rotting river-strand
The drooping willows weep,
And gloomily the gorcrows stand
Croaking in their sleep.

Over the Merlock Mountains a long and weary way,
In a mouldy valley where the trees are grey,
By a dark pool´s borders without wind or tide,
Moonless and sunless, the Mewlips hide.

The cellars where the Mewlips sit
Are deep and dank and cold
With single sickly candle lit;
And there they count their gold.

Their walls are wet, their ceilings drip;
Their feet upon the floor
Go softly with a squish-flap-flip,
As they sidle to the door.

They peep out slyly; through a crack
Their feeling fingers creep,
And when they’ve finished, in a sack
Your bones they take to keep.

Beyond the Merlock Mountains, a long and lonely road,
Through the spider-shadows and the marsh of Tode,
And through the wood of hanging trees and gallows-weed,
You go to find the Mewlips - and the Mewlips feed.

Here are some great artist renditions of the Mewlips:

You go to find the Mewlips...

... and the Mewlips feed.

Enjoy your weekend! 

And remember on Monday I'll post some new Airthai-fiction. 

Inspirational Friday – Warrior's laments

Or, “Where now the horse and the rider” by JRR Tolkien

For the third week of September’s Tolkien-themed Inspiration Fridays, I’ve chosen one of my favourite poems from Lord of the Rings. Tolkien’s inspiration for this poem can be traced to the Anglo-Saxon poem “The Wanderer”.  Below is Tolkien’s poem, followed by the Anglo-Saxon and contemporary English translation from the appropriate passage of “The Wanderer”.

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

John DiBartolo has also set this poem to music – you can find out more at this website. 

From “The Wanderer”

Hwær cwom mearg? Hwær cwom mago? 

Hwær cwom maþþumgyfa?

Hwær cwom symbla gesetu?

Hwær sindon seledreamas?

Eala beorht bune!

Eala byrnwiga!

Eala þeodnes þrym!

Hu seo þrag gewat,

genap under nihthelm,

swa heo no wære.

Stondeð nu on laste

leofre duguþe

weal wundrum heah,

wyrmlicum fah.

Eorlas fornoman

asca þryþe,

wæpen wælgifru,

wyrd seo mære,

ond þas stanhleoþu

stormas cnyssað,

hrið hreosende

hrusan bindeð,

wintres woma,

þonne won cymeð,

nipeð nihtscua,

norþan onsendeð

hreo hæglfare And in contemporary English:

Where is the horse gone? Where the rider?

Where the giver of treasure?

Where are the seats at the feast?

Where are the revels in the hall?

Alas for the bright cup!

Alas for the mailed warrior!

Alas for the splendour of the prince!

How that time has passed away,

dark under the cover of night,

as if it had never been!

Now there stands in the trace

of the beloved troop

a wall, wondrously high,

wound round with serpents.

The warriors taken off

by the glory of spears,

the weapons greedy for slaughter,

the famous fate (turn of events),

and storms beat

these rocky cliffs,

falling frost

fetters the earth,

the harbinger of winter;

Then dark comes,

nightshadows deepen,

from the north there comes

a rough hailstorm

in malice against men. A replica of the Sutton Hoo Helm - absolutely exquisite

Inspiration Friday – “The Mewlips” by JRR Tolkien

For this Friday’s inspiration I’ve chosen one of JRR Tolkien’s poems; “The Mewlips”. I first read it in the Tolkien Reader and it forms part of The Adventures of Tom Bombadil. And there is a video where Tolkien reads the poem linked underneath the text of the poem!

Do you have any eerie or scary poems you love? Or perhaps a favourite monster? Have you created you own type of monster, perhaps? (During your worldbuilding, of course, not in your basement using some lightning rods and illegally harvested body parts.)

The Mewlips

The Shadows where the Mewlips dwell
Are dark and wet as ink,
And slow and softly rings their bell,
As in the slime you sink.

You sink into the slime, who dare
To knock upon their door,
While down the grinning gargoyles stare
And noisome waters pour.

Beside the rotting river-strand
The drooping willows weep,
And gloomily the gorcrows stand
Croaking in their sleep.

Over the Merlock Mountains a long and weary way,
In a mouldy valley where the trees are grey,
By a dark pool´s borders without wind or tide,
Moonless and sunless, the Mewlips hide.

The cellars where the Mewlips sit
Are deep and dank and cold
With single sickly candle lit;
And there they count their gold.

Their walls are wet, their ceilings drip;
Their feet upon the floor
Go softly with a squish-flap-flip,
As they sidle to the door.

They peep out slyly; through a crack
Their feeling fingers creep,
And when they’ve finished, in a sack
Your bones they take to keep.

Beyond the Merlock Mountains, a long and lonely road,
Through the spider-shadows and the marsh of Tode,
And through the wood of hanging trees and gallows-weed,
You go to find the Mewlips - and the Mewlips feed.

Here are some great artist renditions of the Mewlips:

You go to find the Mewlips...

... and the Mewlips feed.

Enjoy your weekend! 

And remember on Monday I'll post some new Airthai-fiction.