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15 To Allen & Unwin

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[Enclosed with this letter was a coloured version of the drawing ‘The Hill: Hobbiton-across-the-Water’. Tolkien had already sent four new coloured drawings: ‘Rivendell’, ‘Bilbo woke with the early sun in his eyes’, ‘Bilbo comes to the Huts of the Raft-elves’, and ‘Conversation with Smaug’. All of these except the ‘Huts of the Raft-elves’ were used in the first American edition, and all except ‘Bilbo woke with the early sun in his eyes’ were added to the second British impression.]

31 August 1937

20 Northmoor Road, Oxford

Dear Mr Furth,

I send herewith the coloured version of the frontispiece. If you think it good enough, you may send it on to the Houghton Mifflin Co. Could you at the same time make it finally clear to them (it does not seem easy): that the first three drawings were not illustrations to ‘the Hobbit’, but only samples: they cannot be used for that book, and may now be returned. Also that the ensuing five drawings (four and now one) were specially made for the H.M.Co, and for ‘the Hobbit’. They are, of course, at liberty to reject or use all or any of these five. But I would point out that they are specially selected so as to distribute illustration fairly evenly throughout the book (especially when taken in conjunction with the black-and-white drawings).

I suppose no question of remuneration arises? I have no consciousness of merit (though the labour was considerable), and I imagine that the ‘gratis’ quality of my efforts compensates for other defects. But I gathered that the H.M.Co’s original terms simply covered ‘The Hobbit’, as you produced it, and that they then proposed to top up with coloured pictures, as a selling attraction of their own, employing good American artists. They would have had to pay these independently. At the moment I am in such difficulties (largely owing to medical expenses) that even a very small fee would be a blessing. Would it be possible to suggest (when they have decided if they want any of these things) that a small financial consideration would be gracious?

Perhaps you will advise me, or tell me where I get off? I need hardly say that such an idea only occurs to me with regard to the Americans – who have given a lot of unnecessary trouble. Even if I did not know that your production costs have been excessive (and that I have been hard on proofs), you are most welcome at any time to anything you think I can do, in the way of drawing or redrawing, that is fit to use on The Hobbit.

I hope Mr Baggins will eventually come to my rescue – in a moderate way (I do not expect pots of troll-gold). I am beginning to have hopes that the publishers (vide jacket) may be justified.1 I have had two testimonials recently, which promise moderately well. For one thing Professor Gordon2 has actually read the book (supposed to be a rare event); and assures me that he will recommend it generally and to the Book Society. I may warn you that his promises are usually generous – but his judgement, at any rate, is pretty good. Professor Chambers3 writes very enthusiastically, but he is an old and kindhearted friend. The most valuable is the document I enclose, in case it may interest you: a letter from R. Meiggs (at present editing the Oxford Magazine). He has no reason for sparing my feelings, and is usually a plain speaker. Of course, he has no connexions with reviewing coteries, and is virtually a mere member of the avuncular public.

Yours sincerely

J. R. R. Tolkien.

P.S. I enclose also a commentary on the jacket-flap words for your perusal at leisure – if you can read it.

[When The Hobbit was published on 21 September 1937, Allen & Unwin printed the following remarks on the jacket-flap: ‘J. R. R. Tolkien. . . . has four children and The Hobbit. . . . was read aloud to them in nursery days. . . . . The manuscript. . . . was lent to friends in Oxford and read to their children. . . . . The birth of The Hobbit recalls very strongly that of Alice in Wonderland. Here again a professor of an abstruse subject is at play.’ Tolkien now sent the following commentary on these remarks.]

By the way. I meant some time ago to comment on the additional matter that appears on the jacket. I don’t suppose it is a very important item in launching The Hobbit (while that book is only one minor incident in your concerns); so I hope you will take the ensuing essay in good part, and allow me the pleasure of explaining things (the professor will out), even if it does not appear useful.

I am in your hands, if you think that is the right note. Strict truth is, I suppose, not necessary (or even desirable). But I have a certain anxiety lest the H.M.Co seize upon the words and exaggerate the inaccuracy to falsehood. And reviewers are apt to lean on hints. At least I am when performing that function.

Nursery: I have never had one, and the study has always been the place for such amusements. In any case is the age-implication right? I should have said ‘the nursery’ ended about 8 when children go forth to school. That is too young. My eldest boy was thirteen when he heard the serial. It did not appeal to the younger ones who had to grow up to it successively.

Lent: we must pass that (though strictly it was forced on the friends by me). The MS. certainly wandered about, but it was not, as far as I know, ever read to children, and only read by one child (a girl of 12–13), before Mr Unwin tried it out.

Abstruse: I do not profess an ‘abstruse’ subject – not qua ‘Anglo-Saxon’. Some folk may think so, but I do not like encouraging them. Old English and Icelandic literature are no more remote from human concerns, or difficult to acquire cheaply, than commercial Spanish (say). I have tried both. In any case – except for the runes (Anglo-Saxon) and the dwarf-names (Icelandic), neither used with antiquarian accuracy, and both regretfully substituted to avoid abstruseness for the genuine alphabets and names of the mythology into which Mr Baggins intrudes – I am afraid my professional knowledge is not directly used. The magic and mythology and assumed ‘history’ and most of the names (e.g. the epic of the Fall of Gondolin) are, alas!, drawn from unpublished inventions, known only to my family, Miss Griffiths1 and Mr Lewis. I believe they give the narrative an air of ‘reality’ and have a northern atmosphere. But I wonder whether one should lead the unsuspecting to imagine it all comes out of the ‘old books’, or tempt the knowing to point out that it does not?

‘Philology’ – my real professional bag of tricks – may be abstruse, and perhaps more comparable to Dodgson’s maths. So the real parallel (if one exists: I feel very much that it breaks down if examined)fn1 lies in the fact that both these technical subjects in any overt form are absent. The only philological remark (I think) in The Hobbit is on p. 221 (lines 6–7 from end):2 an odd mythological way of referring to linguistic philosophy, and a point that will (happily) be missed by any who have not read Barfield3 (few have), and probably by those who have. I am afraid this stuff of mine is really more comparable to Dodgson’s amateur photography, and his song of Hiawatha’s failure than to Alice.

Professor: a professor at play rather suggests an elephant in its bath – as Sir Walter Raleigh4 said of Professor Jo Wright in a sportive mood at a viva.5 Strictly (I believe) Dodgson was not a ‘professor’, but a college lecturer – though he was kind to my kind in making the ‘professor’ the best character (unless you prefer the mad gardener) in Sylvie & Bruno. Why not ‘student’? The word has the added advantage that Dodgson’s official status was Student of Christ Church. If you think it good, and fair (the compliment to The Hobbit is rather high) to maintain the comparison – Looking-glass ought to be mentioned. It is much closer in every way. . . . .

J. R. R. Tolkien.

The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien

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