Lord of the Rings: The Animated Musical | Introduction to the Appendixes

This week, I return to the sacred text, not the first chapter of Part One: The Fellowship of the Ring but the end of Part Three: The Return of the King. This section has 150 pages of materials, from 341 to 491, that according to J.R.R. Tolkien did not fit within the structure of the narrative, to which I ask, “What structure, sir?” This arrangement has never been replicated, nor will it likely ever be seen again, as modern editors and publishers do not allow such unconventional formats. The information in the Appendixes and Index reads like an academic textbook yet maintains a uniquely Tolkien sense of humor. Over the next several weeks, I will cover these appendixes using comparative history, linguistics, and mythology to better understand their content.

Rise of the Modern Publishing Industry

As mentioned in my introduction, The Lord of the Rings appeared at a unique time in the publishing history. While much modern printing technology and marketing techniques were already in place, editors did not have the same sway over authors as they do today, leading to Tolkien’s unusual maps and diagrams, a story that is at times episodic or reads like academic conference proceedings, highly inconsistent tone ranging from comedy to tragedy over the course of a few sentences, head hopping between perspectives, and the abnormally extensive appendix.

Modern publishing in Great Britain began around the early 18^th century. The Stationer’s Company, a type of printer’s guild, monopolized the printing industry and introduced its own censorship. The Copyright Act of 1710, also called the Statute of Anne, was the first time the government controlled copyright instead of private companies, giving authors more protection of their work. Throughout the 19^th century, the cost of printing steeply declined throughout Europe and across the sea in North America, and book sales rose. To prevent prices from becoming too low, the Macmillan family and other publishers created Associated Booksellers of Great Britain and Ireland in 1895, then Publishers Association in 1896 and formed the Net Book Agreement in 1901. Books were sold through mail-order by subscription or door-to-door by salesmen.

Unfortunately, this rise in sales did not equate to a rise in legal protection for authors. Despite national copyright laws, printed works were not protected internationally, leading to widespread book piracy. Often, companies would copy and sell novels written in foreign countries and pay the author no royalties. Literary agents tried to help authors get royalties where they could. Alexander Pollock “A.P.” Watt was the first known literary agent and began his work in 1881.

After World War I, many independent publishing houses opened. In the United States, new colleges and universities started, many with their own publishing houses. Textbook sales increased, allowing this guaranteed moneymaker to finance the fiction branch of the business. Book-of-the-Month Club (BOMC) debuted in 1926, bringing a regular influx of new fiction books into the homes of everyday Americans. Allen Lane started the UK branch of Penguin Books in 1935 and the American branch in 1939, allowing readers to cheaply buy high-quality paperback books during the Great Depression. After World War II, book sales rose again. The new policy of the publishing industry was to put out books first in hardcover, then reprint successful works in paperback a few weeks later. International copyright law changed for the good in 1952 when the Universal Copyright Convention, a UNESCO meeting, established the first laws. This agreement was strengthened in 1955 when the United States signed, protecting the copyright of books by non-American authors in one of the largest publishing markets.

We love golden ages here at Abby Epplett, Historian, and by here, I mean me, the sole writer on my blog. In the past, I have covered the golden ages of discovering tattoos in archaeology, heraldry research, television, Dutch painters, musical theater, documentaries, and conlangs. This post is no different. Elwyn “Al” Harmon Silverman, an expert on the American publishing industry and author of the book The Time of Their Lives on the history of American publishing, has declared the “Golden Age of Publishing” to be between 1946 and the early 1980s. Among his many jobs in the industry, Silverman served as CEO and chairman of BOMC from 1972 to 1988 at the end of the Golden Age. This time marked the rise of many publishing companies, then massive consolidations, and the popularity of paperback. Naturally, Tolkien appeared in Silverman’s book, as he worked with Ballantine Books to create an authorized edition of The Lord of the Rings. This paperback famously included a strongly worded letter condemning the unauthorized copies sold by Ace Books.

Silverman personally knew the husband-and-wife team, Ian and Betty Ballantine, who founded the company in 1952. The company was bought by major publisher Random House Books in 1973 and became the “Big Five” conglomerate Penguin Random House in 2013. Betty Ballantine was the more decorated of the pair. She won a Special Committee Award from the World Science Fiction Convention in 2006, a World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement from the World Fantasy Convention in 2007, and inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame with her husband in 2008. Of course, Tolkien was also inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame, although his books are technically considered fantasy.

The Lord of the Rings hit bookshelves during a perfect storm within the publishing industry. International copyright law was put into place, while independent publishing houses began to consolidate into the modern “Big Five” but editing style had not yet modernized. This allowed Tolkien to write a quirky book series with no proven salability and not as much editorial pushback as a modern writer would receive, then receive access to widespread distribution a few years later during the countercultural revolution of the 1960s when his books became popular for the first time.

How Does an Appendix Work, Anyway?

The Appendixes of The Lord of the Rings have the same effect on modern book structure as its One Ring has affected perception of magic rings in the study of mythology and fantasy: articles about creating appendixes frequently reference Tolkien’s work as the ultimate usage of this tool. The concept of an appendix came into English during the 1540s, predating the name of the bodily organ with the unfortunate tendency to burst. The word comes from the Latin word appendix meaning “an addition”, itself derived from the verb appendere meaning “to hang”.

Not just any addition to a book is considered an appendix. Authors and editors must follow standardized rules, especially with the location of the text at the end of the main book. English language writers frequently reference the Chicago Manual of Style when determining how to construct their nonfiction work, as the book contains rules on where to place an appendix, index, glossary, and other additions to the main text. The manual began in 1891, the same year that the University of Chicago Press opened, while the first publicly available book was printed in 1906. If Tolkien used the manual, he would likely have consulted a 10^th edition from 1937 or an 11^th edition from 1949. The current manual is in its 17^th edition, and available online with a subscription. The manual notes that appendixes should be concise and interesting to the reader; while Tolkien’s work certainly fits the second count, it definitely misses the first.

Besides the six appendixes, Return of the King includes indexes with the names of poems and songs, both by subject matter and first line; “Persons, Beasts, and Monsters”, which meticulously lists references to every named character, family, and ethnic group within the three books (although I did find a spelling error on page 476 — the first name of the Mayor of Michel Delving is spelled Whil, while it should be Will — a sign that I am in too deep); places; and “things” like time periods, battles, weapons, magic stuff, celestial bodies, and plants. The concept of an index has its own interesting history. Originally meaning “the forefinger” in the late 14^th century, which was taken directly from Latin, the modern meaning of “list of book’s contents with direction where in the text to find them” arrived in late 16^th century. I imagine this term was derived from a reader running the index finger down the list of words to find the correct entry.

Indexes were once tools of the Catholic Church, not for finding materials, but for banning it. Index librorum prohibitorum was first published in 1564 by Pope Pius IV after the Council of Trent, and the list was active until 1966, when Pope Paul VI determined the concept antiquated. Likewise, the official Vatican website appears to have been designed the year I was born. Alas for the Church is slow to change. Technological complaints aside, famous authors on the list included Protestant theologians Martin Luther and John Calvin; astronomers Nicolaus Copernicus, Johannes Kepler, and Galileo Galilei; philosophers Immanuel Kant and Jean-Jacques Rousseau; and fiction writer Victor Hugo. Tolkien’s books were never on the Index despite its heavy pagan influence, likely because the work also has heavy Catholic influence, to the point of being a favorite book of Pope Francis.

What Else Is in Tolkien’s Appendixes?

A better question might be, “What isn’t in Tolkien’s Appendixes?”, until one realizes that the man produced so much material about his fantasy world that his heirs continue to edit and publish books. “Appendix A: Annals of the Kings and Rulers”, mostly covers the history of Men in Middle-earth, plus the love story between Aragorn and Arwen, and a lengthy aside about Dwarf culture written in-universe by Gimli. “Appendix B: The Tales of Years” gives timelines of the Second and Third Ages of Middle-earth, with specific dates for events during the War of the Ring. “Appendix C: Family Trees” show how the Hobbits are related, including interesting discrepancies between trees and enough implications for an episode of Finding Your Roots: Hobbit Edition. “Appendix D: Shire Calendar” gives a detailed account of how Hobbits kept time, then compares this rational system to the more convoluted methods used by Elves and Men. “Appendix E: Writing and Spelling” is of greatest interest to conlangers, as the thorough pronunciation guide aids dialect coaches, and the two distinct writing systems enthrall calligraphers. If that was not enough, “Appendix F” contains more information about languages, translation choices, and puns.

The Appendixes in LOTRAM

One of the great difficulties when creating an adaptation of The Lord of the Rings in another form of media would be the inclusion of material found in the appendixes. Peter Jackson evaded the issue by cutting everything except “The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen” from his version, along with a significant number of chapters, most of the dialogue, and anything that looked like an interesting personality trait besides “tough guy fights good”. (Not for the last time will I lodge this complaint.) While I introduce more specific details on how I would add this material to the hypothetical animated musical when I come to each section, here is an overview of what I have planned.

The first thing to consider when adding appendix material into the flow of the main text is to pair information with a character. Fortunately, multiple characters within the text are bent on being 1950s literature and culture professors like Tolkien himself, so adding lines with further explanation about their Race, language, local ecology, or any other niche topic of academic interest is not out of character. Additionally, while some literary critics accuse Tolkien characters of being flat or stereotypical, as they seem to be unwilling to read past the surface level of the text, the characters are in fact so fleshed out and methodical in their actions, along with speaking in a distinct idiolect, that a careful reader can anticipate what a character would do in a given situation and create realistic dialogue in Tolkien’s varied but consistent writing styles, which I have dubbed “Tolkienese”.

Some material in the appendix might be transformed into informational songs, which will be more fun and memorable than this appears at first glance. For example, the lists of kings in Appendix A bear resemblance to mnemonics about kings and queens of England memorized by British schoolchildren and likely forgotten by adulthood. This real-world example is similar to an ongoing gag within The Lord of the Rings where characters, especially Gandalf, forget important historical information when it is most needed. Should a list of kings be required, Boromir might know a few warrior-kings who prevailed in great battles; Aragorn might remember the poets and their beloveds; Frodo might stumble through the list with perfect pronunciation before hopelessly giving up; and Sam might conclude the list in an impromptu song, complete with butchered pronunciation, not quite appropriate jokes, and at least one reference to food, animals, or cannibalism. The event would not be mentioned again.

Other material found in the appendix might become a documentary style overlay with dates and locations appearing in the top right corner of the screen, not unlike an informational box used during televised sports games. This would allow for the display of various place names in multiple scripts, as many locations have a different name in the Common Language of Westron, the widespread Elvish language of Sindarin, and the secretive Dwarvish language of Khuzdul. Family trees would appear in overlays as needed to show relationships between characters along with birth and death dates.

While a textbook ending to an emotionally charged work of fiction may not be to everyone’s taste, they are likely not about to read these essays either, so I will not address them further. The appendixes build upon the foundation of history and cultures of Middle-earth first laid down in the Prologue, allowing the reader to draw parallels between events, people, and places in the real world. Through a combination of combing through this section of the text and understanding the reality upon which the fantasy was based, the reader can make textually supported interpretations to the work that may not have been considered by other dedicated Tolkien scholars. During my upcoming essays, I will put forth some of these new interpretations and indicate how the hypothetical animated musical would demonstrate my novel approach to the books.

Read past installments of Lord of the Rings: The Animated Musical