Dec. 23 - written by Christopher Rohan

What I’ve Learned #1

I have many friends that don’t read fiction. As a fiction author, I don’t know how to take that. I’m not sure how I started to associate with so many unlike people. I mention in another post that I believe story is a primary tool in relationship, but what about these weirdos? Are they unrelatable? Well, seemingly not, as I relate with them all the time. Indeed, they are good folk, we have so much else in common and they have sharpened me.

In addition to those who don’t read fiction for whatever reason, I’ve also met and known people that bad mouth fiction. “What’s the point?” they ask. “It’s a waist of time,” they’ve exclaimed. I’ve even met people who’ve said that fiction authors are liars. That last one may not be too far off, but it’s worth noting that lies, in the strict sense, are malicious and meant for deception, whereas factional tales are meant to entertain, teach, and hopefully enlighten.

It can sometimes feel like a miracle that I made it out alive with creative cranium and descriptive digits attached. Truth be told, I enjoy going against the grain. These sorts of things tend to spur on my fight for nonconformity. The patterns of this world are not worth conforming to anyway.

I’ve also mentioned elsewhere that I am a lover of context, and because of all these things, I’ve come to the point of proclaiming the virtues of fiction. One of the greatest, as mentioned, is fiction’s ability to teach. In continuation of that effort, I present to you a new blog series, “What I’ve Learned”.

What I’ve Learned from Bilbo

The Hobbit is at the top of my list of most loved stories. I say stories rather than books, because on any given day, I’d rather read from it than watch, listen to, etc. nearly anything else. It is an amazing story that has interwoven the hearts of many for over 80 years. There is more humanity in those charcters than most any others. 

So, what is it about this story that is so captivating? You may say that it is simple entertainment and not much else, but you’d be mistaken. It is an adventure story, yes. It is a journey story, true. Those things alone are compelling, but greater than these is how they are true. Now, this is simply my take. I tend to speak in absolutes with certain things about which I feel especially passionate. Given that I am not the author of this story means that I am not the authority on it, but I do care deeply for the story and have pondered it often. Here is my lesson.

One of the most beautiful lines, or repetitions of a line, occurs whenever Bilbo is going through something new and difficult, the first is the rain drenched road to the east, and he thinks of his comfortable home in the west, drinking tea, next to the hearth. Following many of those moments is the simple line, “and not for the last time.”

Something that is more difficult to notice is the last time Tolkien uses that line, but what is more noticeable is that Bilbo’s longing to be home and avoid the difficulty before him is the greatest trial that he faces. That may be a bold statement as he faces monstrous trolls, bolder-throwing giants, hordes of orcs, treachery, or the flames of dragon’s breath, but I stand by it. 

A small aside. I do not enjoy the most recent movie adaptation of this, my most beloved story. I have a lot of reasons, but the biggest objection I have is the injection of the pursual of the white orc. I can see the conversations happening at the screeenwriters table about a dim-witted audience needing an antagonist always pushing the mottly band toward their goal, but I’m glad Tolkien was wiser in his belief in the audience. Truly, how many reasons do protagonists need to move toward their goal? The answer: only one good one. Perhaps it was the thought that they needed one primary antagonist, but one truth that comes from the tale is that evil can be anywhere, even in the lusts of those you trust. Evil, no matter how it manifests, is the antagonist of the story. The only real evil in the movie, that the one main bad guy does, is steal that truth and replace it with the destructive notion that there are good guys and there are bad guys, an idea that has fueled every prejudice known to man (the movie “Bright” does an amazing job at portraying some orcs as remorseful of their people’s decision to join the dark lord, an idea that doesn’t take into account Middle Earth lore, but I like the idea that they could be repentant).

I’ll return to the point. The trial of Bilbo is not the small versus the big, or anything like it. His trial is whether he will stay in safety or be courageous. His smallness is a factor, however, one that the reader finds is actually a strength, and one he shares with Frodo and co.

Bilbo is pushed out the door at the start. No need to grow there, just go along for the ride. A simple downpour is the first thing to make him long for what he used to know. A very pitiable hero, I’d say. Contrast that with one of the last times, when he is working to reconcile a hundred years of feuding between races and peoples, and that even happening after the orcs and the spiders and the dragon and the battle, and you can see the beautiful growth that happens. 

There is so much more to learn from Bilbo, but here is the lesson that I need most: significant growth can only happen when we step out of safety and into risk. We will long to go back to how things were, back to comfort and ease. We will regret, we will experience hurt, we may fail, but we will become greater than we were, happier, and more satisfied with who we are.

Whether Tolkien meant to teach this lesson doesn’t really matter, but that is what I see. This is the power of fiction. Bilbo and I are drastically different people, physically speaking and otherwise. Neither have we lived the same life, through the same circumstances, or even remotely the same place (regardless of how much I’d love living in the Shire or Dale), but I can relate to him on so many other levels. I’d often prefer ease over courage. I may not say it that way, but that is what my actions will portray. Biblo’s story challenges that preference and I have the opportunity to choose something better. I have the opportunity to choose courage, and isn’t that a better story?