Advent Reading: "In the House of Tom Bombadil"

How Tom Bombadil is an echo of Advent for us hobbits here on Earth.

You’re given a gift, with a choice: granted one hour to sit down with a piping hot beverage in your favorite armchair to read your favorite CHAPTER from your favorite book. Which chapter do you choose?

For some, let the struggle ensue. The question of favorite book may be an easy answer, but indeed, what chapter? This heightens the stakes a bit.

While some may begin grumbling aspersions and hurling baleful glances toward my innocent, inquiring self, please pardon me as I settle into an old green recliner with a mug of coffee and open Lord of Rings to the Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter Seven: “In the House of Tom Bombadil.”

You enter the reading of this chapter as the hobbits enter the house:

They came a few timid steps further into the room, and began to bow low, feeling strangely surprised and awkward, like folk that, knocking at a cottage door to beg for a drink of water, have been answered by a fair young elf-queen clad in living flowers.

For a chapter which to many, even myself sometimes, seems a detour away from the primary narrative of The Lord of the Rings, the sheer depth, mystery, warmth, and resonance of “In the House of Tom Bombadil” is an utter, breathtaking delight. And- to a point I will get to shortly- is upon a deeper reading, rather than a detour away from the narrative from The Lord of the Rings, a necessary precursor and even preparation for it. Furthermore, if I may be so bold, in this charming chapter of Tolkien’s legendarium, Tom Bombadil readys us for Story Itself.

Who is Tom Bombadil?

Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow;

Bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.

There is, of course, the delightful mystery of Tom himself. Begetter of a thousand theories, some have posited him as Iluvatar Himself, the God-Figure of Tolkien’s entire mythology, noting that he is called “The Eldest,” and arrived on Middle-Earth even before the Elves and the Ents (imagine knowing Treebeard as a little acorn!) Others, like Joseph Pearce, have posited him as an unfallen Adam, given the Ring’s lack of effect on him.

Rather than rehash these possibilities, outlined and explored by writers of far more patience and insight than myself, I’d like to zoom in to particular moment in this chapter which I find quite revelatory, and quite timely for us now in the season of Advent.

Tom the Story-Teller

Thank the heavens for Goldberry’s washing day! This is the catalyst for Tom announcing to hobbits, with bardic cheer, “It’s a good day for long tales, for questions and for answers, so Tom will start the talking.”

What follows is what I find the most remarkable six paragraphs in the entirety of Lord of the Rings (and I know that is a bold claim!). The first is worthy to quote in full, as it sets the tone for all that follows:

He then told them many remarkable stories, sometimes half as if speaking to himself, sometimes looking at them suddenly with a bright blue eye under his deep brows. Often his voice would turn to song, and he would get out of his chair and dance about. He told them tales of bees and flowers, the ways of trees, and the strange creatures of the Forest, about the evil things and good things, things friendly and things unfriendly, cruel things and kind things, and secrets hidden under brambles.

Can one man contain all the stories? Apparently Tom can. He starts first with the story of Nature itself, illuminating the lives of all that lives around him, especially those of the trees in the Old Forest. The stories seem to enliven Tom himself, as he begins to sing and “would get out of his chair and dance about.”

Tom tells the whole story as well, no shying away from any part of the Grand Narrative of which he speaks. “Tom’s words laid bare the hearts of trees and their thoughts, which were often dark and strange, and filled with a hatred of things that go free upon the earth, gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning: destroyers and usurpers.” He tells of the cunning and malice of Old Man Willow, who through his roots held dominance over the trees around him.

The narrative shifts from Nature to Civilization. Tom tells how “green walls and white walls rose” and how “Kings of little kingdoms fought together, and the young Sun shone like fire on the red metal of their new and greedy swords.” These little kingdoms rise and fall, until “Stone rings grinned out of the ground like broken teeth in the moonlight.”

Tom then goes back to the Beginning Before All, “into times when the world was wider, and the seas flowed straight to the western Shore; and still on and back Tom went singing out into ancient starlight, when only the Elf-sires were awake.” While the hobbits sit enchanted and enthralled, Tom almost seems to sleep, and Time almost seems to stand still.

“Who are you, Master?” asks Frodo.

“Eldest, that’s what I am,” replies Tom.

What is Tom Bombadil doing? He is taking them deeper and deeper into Story Itself, giving the hobbits a taste of the unfathomable depths of First Chapters, to which the hobbits can orient their small selves into accord with the largeness and largesse of Narrative. Planted into the rich earth of Imagination, the hobbits see the starting point of all. To what end? Well, if function need be considered, it may well be the realization of themselves as stories as well. It is little wonder that Sam ponders much later in Lord of the Rings

“It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going, because they were holding on to something. That there is some good in this world, and it's worth fighting for.”

What great stories are Sam referring to? Perhaps those that good old Tom Bombadil related one rainy day by the Withywindle. The old stories are told so that the new ones can continue.

Tom as a Reminder of Advent

It is little wonder that I am drawn to this text in general, given the near mystical, magical, and charismatic quality of Bombadil’s character, and the import of what he symbolizes in and of himself and for the hobbits.

Over these last couple weeks, the text has had specific resonance as we are in the season of Advent. What are the Advent readings, after all, other than a reminder to us of the First Chapters, and even more than that, of future chapters to come.

¹⁰ Sing and rejoice, O daughter of Zion; for lo, I come and I will dwell in the midst of you, says the Lord. ¹¹ And many nations shall join themselves to the Lord in that day, and shall be my people; and I will dwell in the midst of you, and you shall know that the Lord of hosts has sent me to you. ¹² And the Lord will inherit Judah as his portion in the holy land, and will again choose Jerusalem.”

¹³ Be silent, all flesh, before the Lord; for he has roused himself from his holy dwelling.

With words such as these, we can be like Sam, understanding that even with all the Old Man Willows and Saurons of the world, it is all but a passing shadow, and a new day will come. How? We must enter into the Story to understand. Let the Elders speak of prophecies from long ago. We must have these Bombadil moments of enchantment and myth and remembrance.

Because just as with the hobbits, we are invited in.