Tolkien Blog Party 2019 // Tag Answers

These're frightfully difficult, terribly fun, and I couldn't be more pleased with how everything turned out. Can't wait to hear what y'all think! ;)

Would You Rather...

1. ...join Thorin's Company or the Fellowship?

The Fellowship because of... well, just every last bit of it. The Hobbit is a fun adventure, peopled with dear characters, but LotR is just epic. The point springing to mind is all the brothers-in-arms stuff -- likely and unlikely, like Gimli and Legolas. (And, depending who you were with when the fellowship breaks up, you might get to go through either Ithilien or Anorien. <3 And there's Aragorn. And all the other people you'd get to meet, like Faramir. Still, that's not all necessarily key to the question.)

Short answer: for personality variety in the band of adventurers, character development, and adventure-wise, I'd choose the Fellowship.

Except I do hate the Nazgul. Rrrrrr. 

2. ...ride Shadowfax or an eagle?

First off, the eagles always make me Very Happy. But still, gripping the feathers of a huge, fierce, lordly bird -- desperately trying not to pinch as the earth drops away -- v. a mighty, glistening horse, powerful and smooth running as the wind? Shadowfax all the way. <333

(Also must mention lately I'm sliiiiightly peeved at no one in particular, wondering why the eagles couldn't just've dropped Sam and Frodo off at Mount Doom in the first place and spared all the pain and suffering for poor dear everyone. But no story. I understand. Unless there's something I'm forgetting, it's probably just a little loophole Tolkien hoped we wouldn't think about. So let's forget I mentioned it. ;-))

3. ...travel through Moria or Mirkwood?

I dislike them pretty equally, both seem so dark and claustrophobic and endless. If I was a hobbit though I'd pick Moria, cause of all the Big Folk along. Even with all the heartbreak in the loss of Gandalf, Aragorn and Boromir heading and bringing up the rear of the band in the face of that terror, then carrying Frodo and Sam later makes me warm and teary.

4. ...learn to make elvish rope or mithril chainmail?

Both would be interesting, but mithril sounds like ripply silver beauty. Wikipedia says the name mithril comes from two words in Tolkien's Sindarin language -- mith meaning 'grey' and ril meaning 'glitter'. So yes please.

5. ...try to outwit Smaug or Saruman?

Tough one. Ok, bear with me here, but all in all I think I'd actually pick Saruman. Smaug would just be downright terrifying. Saruman would too, but I think of him as kinda the embodiment of modern philosophy -- with smooth beckoning words, twisting, subtly bending meaning and arguing in circles till you're more than half persuaded/feel a fool for holding out any longer. But yet, it's all wound through with pride, i.e. that was his downfall and (not that I've got everything pat in that department) but a humble man who approaches the debate with a little trembling quiver, but still sticks to his guns and keeps repeating what he knows is right -- I think he could make it through.

6. ...spend an hour with Grima Wormtongue or Denethor?

Denethor. Hands down. If he was going on about Faramir I'd be pretty inevitably tempted to give him a gargantuan piece of my mind, but he's still a gentleman and man of honor (albeit ultimately a fallen one). Grima is just... ick. And yuck.

7. ...attend Faramir's wedding or Samwise's wedding?

***First, how can you do this to me, Hamlette?!?!?!?!?***

Well... it depends. If I was in the mood for something epic, the happiness beyond tears, end of a fairy tale sort of occasion, I'd pick the former. If I'm in the mood for hearty food and hilarity and maybe riotous dancing, I'd pick the latter. (Ha, see how neatly I avoided choosing there?)

But I'll play fair and say Eowyn and Faramir. Especially as I intend to be in their retinue and go back to Ithilien and make everything loved and altogether lovely again.

8. ...have to care for the One Ring or the Arkenstone for a day?

The Arkenstone. Gold fever is a very real thing, but I'm not going near the Ring with a ten foot pole. Nuh uh.

9. ...have tea with Bilbo or Frodo?

Ummm... Usually I'd always pick Frodo, but I'm not sure how good of a cook he is, so maybe Bilbo? I do always want to try his seed cakes. For some reason I always picture them as poppy seed.

10. ...fight alongside Boromir or Eomer?

Ok, this one's near impossible. I've literally been thinking about it for a couple days. My initial immediate response was Boromir, but sometimes I feel like Eomer doesn't get as much credit or talking-about as he should and he really is splendid and valiant and loves his sister, and his manly desire to protect is just as strong as the others. So, though I'm not sure how much use I'd be fighting on horseback, at the moment I'm picking Eomer and the Rohirrim.

Thank you for the wonderful party and all the fantastic questions, Hamlette! Again, make sure to check out all the other entries HERE.

And be sure and let me know if you agree/disagree with any of the above! 

Why I Love Westerns

"What makes a western? It seems to me that it's not simply that it took place in the western part of the United States, nor is it big hats and peacemakers and horses. I mean, all of those are elements, certainly, but what makes a western a western to me is that you lack the recourse of civilization to work out whatever the problem is, and therefore characters must work out the dilemmas for themselves."

~ Walter Hill ~

So, why do I love westerns?
 
Well, it all goes so deep. Not to be cliche, but deep right down past the soles of my boots and into the soil itself.

There's the epic-ness and the grandeur; which is all part and parcel of my love for the western land itself, with all the varieties that entails. The high outcroppings. The sun coming up and slanting long, or turning to a golden haze at sunset through the pine trees. The western grass that grows long and green and turns to that special wispy crunch by high summer. Mountains, snow drifts, aspens, and high altitude pines growing short, stubborn, and twisted against the wind. And smoothly rounded rocks and fast rushing water. Thinking back, I can definitely say my love for the landscape first spurred my love of westerns as such. We didn't watch many (as in any at all really) when I was little, but we did drive back and forth across the wide open spaces. So then when I started delving into all the delights of western film, it was a natural (and very fast) progression. A peopling of those wide spreading places. ;)

Through it all there's a bigger-than-life sort of feel, but yet it's REAL. And so when it comes to story (book or film) whether or not each and every story (of the excellent ones anyway) is completely and utterly historically accurate to the very last iota -- doesn't really worry me. It's like the knightly tales of honor and daring. It's what Tolkien was trying to do for England in Lord of the Rings. It's the stuff of true myth and legend. The stuff of which heart stories are made.

"The English have Shakespeare, the French have Moliere, the Russians have Chekov, the Argentines, have Borges, but the Western is ours--from Canada down to the Mexican border."

 ~ Robert Duvall ~

As for the men of this wild western landscape… (and the women as well I suppose, but let's not take on too many things at once) whether or not they like the challenges -- or even the land itself -- it still shapes who they are, irrevocably. It dyes them in the weave.

(In the following, I wanna make it clear I do not think you have to be in or from the west to identify with and have a deep passion for your calling, so let's just be clear on that.)

Now I'm not romanticizing here, as I'm thrilled to be married to such a man myself (which personal experience has led to a lot of these cogitations and this particular light bulb moment), but in whatever capacity -- rancher, lawman, homesteader, trapper, cowboy, railroad baron, etc. -- the calling and occupation of the men of the wild frontier country is integral to their very identity. (My western man, for instance, who's a business owner dealing with emergency communications, would have owned the telegraph company; really a very apt comparison. :)) But it's who they are. And they're proud of it.

And generally (in the stories I tend to love anyway) they naturally tend to have a very defined vision of life -- principles they live by, compromises they’re unwilling to make. And they follow through on those with dogged, sticky tenacity. They’re the protagonists I love rooting for and it’s WHY I love rooting for them.

They’re taking dominion and -- even on a regular, run-of-the-mill, ordinary week -- the stakes are real, and they're ginormous. Whether or not they carry a gun (and whether they can even be a real western man without one, or under what circumstances that might happen, is a discussion for another time), but their days are played out with live ammo.

You say what you mean and you mean what you say, or take the consequences. Who you stand with and what you fight for matters. Loyalty matters. (“Whose side you on, boy?”) There's no room for dithering about. It's a world of manly men who (while they can be the deep, complex, strong silent type) are bold and forthright when they do speak. Men who are confident and secure enough in their own opinions to joke and rib each other.

So there're the recurring themes of treachery and loyalty; and who has your back. Along with this, the man-to-man friendships aren’t soppy. They’re gritty and real and often forged under fire. These men are strong and courageous, and if they're not, they face down the fear.

(The view out my dining room this morning. <3)

Truth be told, I’m a western girl through and through. The Tetons and Yellowstone country are my happy place. Sagebrush and Ponderosa pines can make me cry. There’s a mounted antelope head above our couch that’s one of my favorite things about our living room. Gun belts and saddles and well-worn slouch hats and the sound of horse hooves pounding are signs of thrilling adventure.

In the westerns I love things can get dark -- there can be a lot of sweat and blood and tears and hard work and tragedy by times -- but it's all worth it. Because the other side of it all is magnificent and breathtaking -- full of lovely, incredible, heart-stopping heroism and tales of epic redemption and good gifts. And surrounding all of it -- running through every story -- is the whole rich, alluring, wide spreading land itself, a world to tame and conquer and be fruitful and run wild in.

It's beautiful!

5 Reasons I Love Living in a Small House

First off, for a little background, I’m no stranger to tight quarters. Till I was eighteen, my family lived first in an apartment and then in a 900 square foot house (all 7 of us). My mother was, and is, a master organizer. In addition, a comfortable level of orderliness and purging was the order of the day.

So now (and not to say I don't love looking at and dreaming of visiting places like

this

or this,

or that if we have a large family and decide to build someday we might not plan something bigger), but, since getting more of a handle on my own organizational plan in this second year of marriage/seeing how the work I put into the house in the first year is paying off, I’ve come to personally really appreciate a small floor plan.

So here are 5 reasons why I love living in a small house:

1. There’s the obvious plus of more inexpensive heating and cooling. And changing/playing around with interior design elements is less of an investment -- i.e. your $100 worth of paint goes a long way.

2. Cleaning. Cleaning is WAY faster. It'd be misleading to say it's easy peasy (it most definitely isn't and I do not in any way have my cleaning schedule down pat yet), but because it’s smaller there just is LESS. Fewer windows, less floor to sweep/vacuum/mop. One bathroom.

3. It forces you to purge.

4. It’s easier to keep track of everyone. You don’t have to shout. And you can hear what the baby or toddler is up to.

5. First for a quick proviso, this is NOT to say you can’t have a close knit family in a mansion (I’m not saying that A’TALL), but, by nature, living in a small space does tend toward creating close knit bonds (between parents, parents and children, and child and child). Of course, it can all very easily turn sour, too, so it’s really and always God’s grace granting the fruits of the Spirit to each and every member, but living in a small place can definitely facilitate/be one of the means He uses. You’re bumping elbows all the time and it forces you to keep short accounts. (Note: I’m not against corners and reading nooks and quiet places either – on the contrary, it’s one of the first things I’ve been thinking about when rearranging things in the house.)

Now since everything’s happening in the same areas you do have to stay on top of things or everything will quickly start falling to pieces. The mess is right there under foot, and you can’t close the door on it and just move to a different area of the house. No, one must simply gird up ones loins and just do something about it. ;D But then, when it's all tidied up and you can see the floor again it's such a very rewarding feeling.

So there you are! What are some of the reasons you're thankful for where you are -- large or small? Would you like some organization posts sometime? :)

Blog evaluation... your feedback appreciated! :)

Hello all, I hope you’re having a lovely Saturday!

I’ve been doing some thinking recently (spinning ideas really) on what the blog here should be/new directions I’d like to go and wanted to run them past you all for starters. (And I just had the brilliant idea of using bullet points!)
 
So. Without more ado, let’s do this.

• First off, I want to write about the little, minute, and gigantic, sprawling, incredible things of life. The underside that makes the stories happen. The real Stuff of Life. Real, but not overtly raw -- at least in the introspective/wistful sense (and unless life itself happens to be particularly raw at a given time). Though, perhaps yes, on second thought, raw might be a good description. Playing around with words -- crafting magic. Thinking on deep things.
• I’m determined and excited about just going for it and jumping into my new story this year (so… on the flip side, don’t want to take away too much valuable word hashing time from that).
• My brain’s absorbed with the thrilling topics of clearing out sheds and lean-to’s, exciting summer travel plans, and wanting to concentrate on making some yummy (and consistent!) dinners with my new little helper. 

• I have a kitchen full of dishes to wash; and also Amazon returns in my living room to box up (mostly different tops I was trying out, some of which were winners and some of which I’m taking advantage of Amazon’s splendid free returns option with -- one of my favorite things ever! ;)). And the floor could probably use a proactive sweeping. But I’m holding a darling, snoring little baby and the washer’s happily churning away with laundry -- so yay! (P.S. I guess this point could be titled 'The Daily Things'.)
• Per the above, I’d like to expand into some fashion/style exploration
• I'm thinking of keeping posts shorter (so as not to delay posting for eons, etc). What about some short, snappy book reviews? And definitely longer movie reviews, but when I have the time to give them proper attention.
• I’ve had an author blog in the past and was debating about the practicality of trying to start it back up, when moi sister recently suggested I should combine the two into one place here. Meaning principally the Inklings link-up back(!), and possibly Quotes of the Month, and an interview now and again.

 

So there we have it! What do you all think? Are any of the above topics things you’d be interested in? Let me know -- I’d love to hear what you’d like to read more about!

Movie Review // The Hunt for Red October (1990) with Sean Connery and Alec Baldwin

The Hunt for Red October is emblematic of a lot of the new movies I’ve been introduced to and come to love this year, and is now securely in my top 10 favorites.

I don’t want to give away too many plot details, but set during the Cold War, it’s the first of the three original Jack Ryan films.

The solemnity, power, and majesty of the opening sequence is breathtaking.

The plot revolves around Marko Ramius, a high-ranking Soviet submarine captain who decides to defect along with most of his officers, but keeping the rest of his crew in the dark -- and all while bringing along with them their entire, state-of-the-art, newly designed nuclear sub.

The entirety of the Soviet fleet in the region is scrambling and soon hard on their heels while the Americans are (at first) puzzling out the strange anomaly bearing down on them, then under orders of their own to hunt her down.

One man, Jack Ryan (ex-Marine now an author for the CIA), is the only one completely convinced Ramius intends to change sides. In a race against the clock and the Red Navy, he ends up arguing his case in Washington and ultimately taking a rough chopper ride – dropping quite literally into the frigid waters of the North Sea to get aboard the gutsy American sub the Dallas, which has been trailing Ramius.

Speaking of which, the whole transferring-from-helicopter-to-submarine section is one of my top favorite parts: so crazy and plucky and risky and determined… and laced throughout with great, subtle humor.

Back to Ramius. He has experienced huge recent tragedy in his own life, but he doesn’t get bogged down in grief and depression. Yet you don’t get the sense he’s bottling everything up and lashing out either. Instead, he’s moving forward, giving himself to action.

Distinguished and masterful, with the weightiness of authority, he’s a leader of men, yet exhibiting at times glints of gentleness and humor.

The sheer audacity and wit involved in pulling off such a scheme is amazing -- especially keeping his whole crew in the dark yet fighting fiercely throughout for their current and future safety.

*SPOILERS* The whole ending scene with Vasily is SO SAD. I cried the first time I saw it. And I think the second time too. *END SPOILERS*

The crew of the Dallas is just simply plucky and daring and serious and fun. Like cowboys loose under the ocean. (In a similar way to how my husband describes Captain Kirk in Star Trek, most of which I’ve also come to love this year. ;)) Good camaraderie is always one of my favorite story elements. Spirited ribbing and joking under pressure while running against life and death stakes, it’s the stuff of which epic adventures are made.

And the no-nonsense Captain Bart Mancusa is a great example of leadership in his own right.

*SPOILERS* Another favorite sequence is the teamwork and back-and-forth exchange of command in the final scenes. Really like that part.

(And I couldn’t find a terribly good screencap, for this, but I also love the diplomatic statecraft scenes in Washington, with their hilarious dry humor on an ambassadorial level.)

As far as content, there’s one scene with Jack taking a shower and shaving that shows his shoulders, and there’s some language throughout, but it’s… traditional (not modern swear words, if that makes sense). And it’s an action film, but there’s not too much blood and you can see it coming.

Last but CERTAINLY not least, it has a thrilling musical score. The depth and tempo and power of Russian music never fails to give me tingles.

It may sound cliché, but each time I’ve seen The Hunt for Red October, I find myself thinking about what I’m doing on a daily level, knowing it counts, and wanting to make sure to live in such a way that it makes a difference. Even on the most regular, ordinary day ever.

Well crafted and well written, it’s moving and inspiring and most definitely makes you want to stand up and cheer at the end.

Posted for Hamlette and Quiggy’s Inspirational Heroes Blogathon, which you can read more about (plus links to all the other entries) here.

Tell me! Have you seen The Hunt for Red October? What do you think?