Los contenidos en la enseñanza de lenguas extranjeras

e idea that nature has an inherent goodness is a rmed not only in the lo y mythological passages of the Silmarillion. It is apparent also in the more homely world of e Hobbit and in the opening passages of e Lord of the Rings. Turning for a moment from the distant and mythic realm of Valinor to the more familiar farms and fields of the Shire, we can see Tolkien’s ideas further developed in the earthiness of the Hobbits and the simplicity of their lifestyle. Hobbits in general, and particularly those who are central to e Hobbit and e Lord of the Rings, show us that the common stu of life—including, perhaps espe-cially, the material things of this world—should be valued and appreci-ated for what they are in and of themselves.

e first two paragraphs of e Hobbit a ord several valuable

insights. e first thing we learn about Bilbo is that he lives in a hole in the ground. As a now famous anecdote tells us, it was this seemingly accidental sentence that Tolkien wrote on a blank piece of paper while marking examinations one day in the 1930s that led to the book’s being written in the first place: “In a hole in the ground there lived a hob-bit.” A philologist both by trade and by passion, Tolkien immediately wondered, “What is a hobbit?” and “Why do they live in the ground?”

e Hobbit and e Lord of the Rings may be seen as something of an exploration on his part into the possible answers to these questions.⁸ It is not until Appendix F—written in 1955, a er the trilogy had been completed and the first two volumes had reached print—that the reader finally learns the answer to these questions from a pair of Old English words: hol (“hole” or “hollow”) and bytla (“built structure, building, or dwelling”). ere, on the last page of the book preceding the indexes, Tolkien explains that he used Old English to represent the language of the Rohirrim and that the word hobbit is “a worn-down form of hol-bytla, if that name had occurred in our own ancient language,” for the original Westron term kûd-dûkan, or “hole-dweller.”

Still in the first two paragraphs of e Hobbit, we can also discern something from a comment about the layout of Bilbo’s dwelling on the Hill: “ e best rooms were all on the le -hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.” ere is a subtle suggestion here about the value Hobbits place on nature:

their “best rooms” are not the ones with the most conveniences, the best paintings, the largest beds, or even (tellingly) the most food—they are the ones with the clearest views of the landscape. eir best rooms look out not only on gardens—that is, nature in cultivated form—but also on meadows and the river, natural features that, though by no means truly wild, are less domesticated or cultivated.

Reading more deeply, we might also reflect on the fact that windows let in natural light. at is, they provide access to the light of the Two Trees that lives on in the Moon, the Sun, and the Silmaril of Eärendil, the Morning Star. us, however indirectly or unknowingly, in their preference for rooms with ample windows, what Hobbits appreciate is actually the glory of the Two Trees of Valinor.⁹

In any case, their dwelling in the ground is fundamental to the nature of Hobbits, and although in Buckland and in Bree some live in

houses aboveground, Hobbits of the Shire consider this aboveground life to be unnatural. Hobbits are close to the earth, and they are closely associated with the material substance of the soil. ey wear no shoes, and their walking around barefoot keeps them in direct physical contact with the earth. is literally down-to-earth image is extended further when we learn in the fourth paragraph of e Hobbit of their uncanny ability to blend in with nature: “ ere is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear qui-etly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blunder-ing along”—a point repeated at the start of the Prologue to e Lord of the Rings.

Likewise, the Hobbits’ love of growing things can be seen throughout e Hobbit and e Lord of the Rings. Bilbo’s love of nature and gardens is evident in the fact that, though there is no mention of a housekeeper or a cook, he has a paid gardener. We see it in the names that Hobbits give to their children; little girls are most o en named a er flowers:

Rose, Elanor, Daisy, Primrose, Marigold. More generally, we see their appreciation for the simple pleasures of life in the songs they sing and the things they choose to take delight in: a bath at the end of the day, a mug of beer with friends, good food, a quiet walk in the woods and meadows, and—again, from the opening scene of e Hobbit—simply standing on the front step enjoying a pipe and some sunshine. ey value these things over machines and technological contrivances, which do not make an appearance in their songs. When the four hobbits are imprisoned by the Barrow-wights and Tom Bombadil rescues them, he sends them running naked over the grass, thereby restoring their con-tact with the earth (I/viii). A er hearing Merry and Pippin describe Hobbits, Treebeard comments about their earthiness, “So you live in holes, eh? It sounds very right and proper” (III/iv).

In the BBC radio interview quoted earlier, Tolkien associates the Shire with the English countryside of the central Midlands and its “good water, stones and elm trees and small quiet rivers and so on.” Hobbits, and especially our hobbits, are able to take delight in these simple things for their own sake, and not merely as means to an end or as excuses for achieving power. is is one reason—perhaps the most important reason—that they are able to resist the seductive influence of the Ring for so long: they are not fundamentally concerned with the manipulations of power, so they are able to take things for what they are.¹⁰