The Road Goes On for Ever

Abstract

Critics have found in Tolkien’s fiction so much not to like that the disapproval invades what some of us thought sanctuaries of his stylistic strength. The most surprising of those repudiations of style is critical dismissal of Tolkien’s narrative. Ursula LeGuin sums up how widely those perceived deficiencies can stretch: “There’s Aragorn, who’s a stuffed shirt; and Sam, who keeps saying ‘sir’ to Frodo until one begins to have mad visions of forming a Hobbit Socialist party; and there isn’t any sex. And there is the Problem of Evil, which some people think Tolkien muffs completely.”¹ But the most serious contender for fictive deficiency is awkward narrative, “the peculiar rhythm of the book, its continual alternations of distress and relief, threat and reassurance, tension and relaxation: this rocking-horse gait (which is precisely what makes the huge book readable to a child of nine or ten) may well not suit a jet-age adult.”²