Into the Archive: Treasures New and Old

 

The Collected Poems of J. R. R. Tolkien, Three Volumes Slipcased, Vol. I 1910 - 1919, Vol. II 1919 – 1931, Vol. III 1931 – 1967, Edited by Christina Scull and Wayne G. Hammond (William Morrow, An Imprint of Harper Collins, 2024)

I had ordered this at the beginning of September, knowing that I must have it. It arrived today, two days early; quite fitting as it is the 87^th anniversary of the first publication of The Hobbit. Tomorrow is so-called Hobbit Day, Bilbo and Frodo’s Birthday, dedicated to celebrations and reading Tolkien. I know what I shall be reading.

The Collected Poems is just such a book as I have dreamed of since middle school, only much more complete. Then I could only imagine the poetry from The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Adventures of Tom Bombadil; these volumes have much more. Not only are there various variants of poems that have already been published, there are seventy poems that have never been printed before. Copiously curated by Christina Scull and Wayne G. Hammond, a team of Tolkien scholars known for their erudition. The books themselves are almost elvishly beautiful, with silver-blue spines and creamy white covers, each decorated by one of Tolkien’s own ornate drawings of stylized trees. Each has a blue ribbon bookmark. The first volume is 445 pages, the second is 976 pages, and the third is a whopping 1501 pages. They have no individual dust jackets; the slipcase protects them all. I almost fear to handle them with mortal hands, but that’s the kind I’m equipped with.

I have only just dipped a toe in so far; I do not even know if they include the so-called Long Lays of Beleriand, the complex and lengthy poems that tell the stories of Beren and Luthien and the Children of Hurin. I look forward to many fine hours of finding out. ‘Tis the season … for Tolkien.

Update: I just realized that Volume I seems so short because it has an Introduction and a Chronolgy that is XCI (91) pages long before the actual poems and Arabic numbering began. That makes it closer to 546 pages long.

I should include here that I also already got The Fantasy Book by Franz Rottensteiner (Colliers, 1978) in the regular mail today. It was very nostalgic to riffle through it again. It certainly brought back memories of high school. But I always thought that the cover was rather unfortunate.

The Shadow Library: What Became of The Monk?

 

The Monk: A Romance, by Matthew G. Lewis (1796; this edition by Grove Press, 1978)

Matthew Lewis published this novel (in three volumes) before he was even twenty years old. It has all the hot blood and drama of a young man. He first published it anonymously (he was already a Member of Parliament) but when it proved enormously popular, he signed the second edition. The novel was scandalous, full of sex, rape, incest, blasphemy, murder, and witchcraft. So of course, everyone had to read it. Lewis himself came to regret it as he grew older, revising and making it milder in later editions. It is a seminal work in what would become the Gothic Tradition.

The novel follows the virtuous monk Ambrosio as he spirals down a tortuous path of sin, going from crime to crime until finally he makes a deal with the devil to escape prison, where he is awaiting execution for his crimes. The devil flies him out of his cell but points out that he never promised him safety. Lucifer drops him where his broken body takes six days to die, and then Ambrosio is damned for all eternity.

I first became aware of the novel from a book about Fantasy that our Creative Writing teacher gave me, a book of which I vexingly can’t recall the title, a book which definitely belongs in the Shadow Library if I could remember it. We got our copy of The Monk at Yesterday’s Warehouse, I think. You could definitely tell it was published in the 70’s: that particularly lurid shade of purple (seen as appropriate for Fantasy – purple prose?) and cover design screams the Groovy Age. This edition was published by Grove Press, famous as being the publishing niche for ‘transgressive’ authors like William S. Burroughs, Samuel Beckett, and Harold Pinter that more mainstream publishers wouldn’t touch. Also, they did a lot of porno.

Well, I had it for years and never read it and eventually sold it. During the covid lockdown my brother Kenny read it aloud in a series over Facebook. Listening to it, my interest was finally aroused, and I found my way into the story. I imagine he was reading the spicier First Edition. Revisions happened that way with Frankenstein, too: Mary Shelley rewrote it later in life, filling it with more philosophical gas.

If I were going to get a new copy (and I’ve been toying with the idea; they’re fairly cheap at under $10) this is the Penguin Edition I would like (it has an old illustration from the novel on it):

But this is the new Penguin (White Ribbon) Edition I would probably have to settle for: it is illustrated with a medieval painting and copies are more abundant:

Update: After I spent about an hour racking my brains over the book about Fantasy that Mr. Fleming gave me (putting such terms as fantasy, imagination, genre , history, guide, and so on, in all kinds of combinations), I let it go and turned my mind to other pursuits. I can’t even remember what was my train of thought when suddenly the unlikely name of the author popped into my head. Franz … Rrr … Rottensteiner! I immediately dropped everything else and looked him up to see if that was right. It was! The title turned out to be The Fantasy Book (1978), a title so easy and simple it’s no wonder I couldn’t recall it. We also had his companion volume, The Science Fiction Book (1975).

I found out that Rottensteiner (b.1942) is still alive, and something of a big name in the curation of Speculative Fiction in Germany. Looking on Amazon I saw there were copies of The Fantasy Book, of Very Good grade, going for under $4, with shipping, of course, which added almost the same amount again. It was too cheap not to buy again! It should be here before the end of the month. If I recall things correctly, I only sold it because I was feeling the pinch. It is a pretty good assessment of the genre before The Sword of Shannara came out and Fantasy became more of a publishing industry.