The opening of this chapter has a very different tone from the rest of it. It’s some of the loveliest lines Tolkien wrote, in my opinion:
That night they heard no noises. But either in his dreams or out of them, he could not tell which, Frodo heard a sweet singing running in his mind: a song that seemed to come like a pale light behind a grey rain-curtain, and growing stronger to turn the veil all to glass and silver, until at last it was rolled back, and a far green country opened before him under a swift sunrise.
Movie fans might recognize this from Gandalf reassuring Pippin about death on the walls of Minas Tirith. There are a bunch of things like that in the movies, where Jackson & company worked to incorporate nods to sections that were cut. Treebeard, for instance, gets some of Tom’s lines.
Moving forward. The Hobbits take their leave of Tom and of Goldberry, and set out to cross the Barrow-Downs and return to the Road. And they fall into a very Hobbitish problem - they have a big lunch, and it’s a warm day, and they fall asleep.
I’m from an area that gets serious fog, and the house I grew up in was on top of a mountain. I know the “island in a sea of fog” thing, because it was basically the view I had during breakfast a few days every week during the autumn. And more frighteningly, I know just how shockingly fast visibility just up and disappears when night falls on a foggy evening.
In doing this reread, as I've said before, I'm approaching LotR with a deliberate thoughtfulness I never have before. Something I've come to realize, from a simple wordsmithing perspective, is that Tolkien might be the best I've ever read at creating an atmosphere in his writing. I've recently read a few books that amazed me with the atmosphere the authors created (Naomi Novik and Katherine Arden, specifically), and I'd rank Tolkien above anyone.
All of which is to say: this chapter is freakin’ scary.
It's also the first time Frodo faces what I would call real danger. The Riders were menacing, but never got overly close or were overtly threatening. But being taken by the Wight was something else - the most dangerous moment of the journey to Rivendell, as Gandalf will remark later. And Frodo rises to the occasion magnificently.
Some history: the Downs had barrows on them from the First Age. The Dúnedain revered them when they returned to Middle-earth, because the people who built them were their own distant kindred - the people from whom the three houses of the Edain had originated. After Arnor was divided into petty kingdoms during its gradual decline, the rulers of Cardolan were interred there as well. There are hints that the specific barrow the Hobbits ended up in was that of the last ruler of Cardolan.
And then the Witch-King of Angmar happened, and he sent dark spirits into the barrows when he waged his war that was the ultimate downfall of the North Kingdom. What they were is not 100% clear, but I would bet they were spirits of Elves who either refused the summons to the Halls of Mandos or else were ensnared by Sauron. He is the Necromancer after all, and those spirits are what that title refers to.
Last point: whenever we have a “best horse” thread, it is an absolute travesty that amidst all the Shadowfaxes and Belas and Mandarbs and Gallants everyone seems to forget old Fatty Lumpkin.
Monday we'll stop in for a pint or three at the Sign of the Prancing Pony.