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Happy Birthday JRR Tolkien

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Reciprocity Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 11:18 AM
Original message
Happy Birthday JRR Tolkien
He would have been 114 years old today.
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CaliforniaPeggy Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 11:24 AM
Response to Original message
1. Well, that's a few years!
To one of my favorite authors! :toast:

His books rank right up there for me.....


"The road goes ever on and on...down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with weary feet, until it joins some larger way, where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say."

:bounce: :bounce:
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jeff30997 Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 11:50 AM
Response to Reply #1
3. Peggy,I admire your enthusiasm !
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Scruffbunny Donating Member (160 posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 11:43 AM
Response to Original message
2. Lamariaye
Unless I spelled it wrong, that's 'farewell' in elvish. High elvish, to be exact.
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ZombieNixon Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 01:23 PM
Response to Reply #2
8. Namarië...
Tolkien gently reminded us that the final 'e' is to be pronounced as 'ay', so we didn't start saying 'na-MAR-ee'
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AllegroRondo Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 11:51 AM
Response to Original message
4. Errantry
There was a merry passenger,
a messenger, a mariner:
he built a gilded gondola
to wander in, and had in her
a load of yellow oranges
and porridge for his provender;
he perfumed her with marjoram
and cardamom and lavender.

He called the winds of argosies
with cargoes in to carry him
across the rivers seventeen
that lay between to tarry him.
He landed all in loneliness
where stonily the pebbles on
the running river Derrilyn
goes merrily for ever on.

He journeyed then through meadow-lands
to Shadow-land that dreary lay,
and under hill and over hill
went roving still a weary way.
He sat and sang a melody,
his errantry a-tarrying;
he begged a pretty butterfly
that fluttered by to marry him.

She scorned him and she scoffed at him,
she laughed at him unpitying;
so long he studied wizardry
and sigaldry and smithying.
He wove a tissue airy-thin
to snare her in; to follow her
he made him beetle-leather wing
and feather wing of swallow-hair

He caught her in bewilderment
with filament of spider-thread;
he made her soft pavilions
of lilies, and a bridal bed
of flowers and of thistle-down
to nestle down and rest her in;
and silken webs of filmy white
and silver light he dressed her in.

He threaded gems in necklaces,
but recklessly she squandered them
and fell to bitter quarrelling;
then sorrowing he wandered on,
and there he left her withering,
as shivering he fled away;
with windy weather following
on swallow-wing he sped away.

He passed the archipelagoes
where yellow grows the marigold,
where countless silver fountains are,
and mountains are of fairy-gold.
He took to war and foraying,
a-harrying beyond the sea,
and roaming over Belmarie
and Thellamie and Fantasie.

He made a shield and morion
of coral and of ivory,
a sword he made of emerald,
and terrible his rivalry
with elven-knights of Aerie
and Faerie, with paladins
that golden-haired and shining-eyed
came riding by and challenged him.

Of crystal was his habergeon,
his scabbard of chalcedony;
with silver tipped at plenilune
his spear was hewn of ebony.
His javelins were of malachite
and stalactite-he brandished them,
and went and fought the dragon-flies
of Paradise, and vanquished them.

He battled with the Dumbledors,
the Hummerhorns, and Honeybees,
and won the Golden Honeycomb;
and running home on sunny seas
in ship of leaves and gossamer
with blossom for a canopy,
he sat and sang, and furbished up
and burnished up his panoply.

He tarried for a little while
in little isles that lonely lay,
and found there naught but blowing grass;
and so at last the only way
he took, and turned, and coming home
with honeycomb, to memory
his message came, and errand too!
In derring-do and glamoury
he had forgot them, journeying
and tourneying, a wanderer.

So now he must depart again
and start again bis gondola,
for ever still a messenger,
a passenger, a tarrier,
a-roving as a feather does,
a weather-driven mariner.
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Reciprocity Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 12:28 PM
Response to Original message
5. Wow Dumbledor means bee in old English.
He battled with the Dumbledors,
the Hummerhorns, and Honeybees,
and won the Golden Honeycomb;
and running home on sunny seas
in ship of leaves and gossamer
with blossom for a canopy,
he sat and sang, and furbished up
and burnished up his panoply


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mcscajun Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 12:58 PM
Response to Original message
6. The Toast
2006 birthday toast

On January 3rd Tolkien fans around the world are invited to raise a glass and toast the birthday of this much loved author at 21:00 (9 pm) your local time.

The toast is "The Professor".

For those unfamiliar with British toast-drinking ceremonies:

To make the Birthday Toast, you stand, raise a glass of your choice of drink (not necessarily alcoholic), and say the words 'The Professor' before taking a sip (or swig, if that's more appropriate for your drink). Sit and enjoy the rest of your drink.

http://www.tolkiensociety.org/toast/2006/enter.html
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Reciprocity Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 01:16 PM
Response to Reply #6
7. Yes, I believe that’s 3pm central.
I will make a toast with a cup of coffee (although tea would be more appropriate) at that time. Anyone else care to join me?
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hfojvt Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 01:24 PM
Response to Original message
9. Is that all?
The ages of my grandparents this year (if they were still alive)
108
113
117
109

Now if one of them had written a famous trilogy, would I still be collecting royalties? How old was he when he wrote them? Maybe I could still write something for my grandkids.
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Reciprocity Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 01:29 PM
Response to Reply #9
10. It took him over 15 years to write and if memory serves
he sold the rights for about $30,000 in the seventies.
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Bridget Burke Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 04:52 PM
Response to Reply #10
16. He sold the movie rights. The Tolkien Estate owns the literary rights.
And the Estate consists of the Tolkien family.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tolkien_Estate

It took Tolkien many years to complete the "sequel" to his Hobbit book. It kept growing, as he added so much from his imaginary world. There was a war, etc.

His publisher thought it was a worthy project but doubted much money could be made. JRRT agreed, but wanted the thing published, anyway. So he got no money in front, settling for a mere 50% of the profit--which everyone thought would be non-existent.

The Estate has done rather well, over the years.
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mcscajun Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 03:48 PM
Response to Original message
11. Ten minute alert for the afternoon crew...
Toast the professor at the hour.

:)

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kick-ass-bob Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 03:59 PM
Response to Reply #11
12. A toast!
:toast:
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Reciprocity Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 04:05 PM
Response to Original message
13. To the Professor.
And they lived happily ever after to the end of their days.
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mcscajun Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 04:35 PM
Response to Original message
14. and I must say...Hot Cocoa with Rum and Whipped Cream
does give one a very warm inner glow. :)
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Orrex Donating Member (1000+ posts) Send PM | Profile | Ignore Tue Jan-03-06 04:36 PM
Response to Original message
15. Eleventy-four, you mean?
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