Christianity, the body and neoliberal individualism

There's a huge industry dedicated to making people feel bad about their bodies and then selling them a product, whether cosmetics, clothes, superfoods, a fitness regime, whatever, that will make their supposedly hideous and ugly body more like the photoshopped perfection in these companies' ads. This kind of business model is rightly condemned, but its roots are rarely looked at. The fact is, if you traveled back in time to before this body-shaming nonsense was big business and wanted to found an industry based on tricking people into hating themselves, you would have found the perfect blueprint for your hateful con in the nearest church.

Christianity was born some time in the first century CE as an offshoot of Judaism in Roman-occupied Hellenic Palestine; to make a long story short, it largely consisted of taking a series of Judaic theological ideas and combining them with Greek philosophy and a lively expectation of the end of the world. The Greek philosopher who had the biggest impact on Christian thought was undoubtedly Plato: the dualism and juxtaposition of mind/soul and body in Phaedo became central to Christian theology. In Plato's concept of the universe, the world of ideas was the home of pure truth, while the material world was nothing but a reflection of it. The body, being of the material world, was imperfect and acted as a brake on the higher ambitions of the immaterial soul. Thus Socrates, according to Phaedo according to Plato:

We have found, they will say, a path of speculation which seems to bring us and the argument to the conclusion that while we are in the body, and while the soul is mingled with this mass of evil, our desire will not be satisfied, and our desire is of the truth. For the body is a source of endless trouble to us by reason of the mere requirement of food; and also is liable to diseases which overtake and impede us in the search after truth: and by filling us so full of loves, and lusts, and fears, and fancies, and idols, and every sort of folly, prevents our ever having, as people say, so much as a thought. For whence come wars, and fightings, and factions? whence but from the body and the lusts of the body? For wars are occasioned by the love of money, and money has to be acquired for the sake and in the service of the body; and in consequence of all these things the time which ought to be given to philosophy is lost. Moreover, if there is time and an inclination toward philosophy, yet the body introduces a turmoil and confusion and fear into the course of speculation, and hinders us from seeing the truth: and all experience shows that if we would have pure knowledge of anything we must be quit of the body, and the soul in herself must behold all things in themselves: then I suppose that we shall attain that which we desire, and of which we say that we are lovers, and that is wisdom, not while we live, but after death, as the argument shows; for if while in company with the body the soul cannot have pure knowledge, one of two things seems to follow-either knowledge is not to be attained at all, or, if at all, after death. For then, and not till then, the soul will be in herself alone and without the body.
- Phaedo, trans. by Benjamin Jowett

Christianity eagerly took up this vilification of the body, and created a reinterpretation of the paradise story of Genesis in the Hebrew Bible, where in addition to being the grounds for humanity's expulsion from the Garden of Eden, the episode of the fruit also came to symbolize an original sin, the Fall, which doomed us all to the imperfection of the material world.

Whereas with Plato, the body interfered with the philosopher's quest for truth, in Christian thought the body came to symbolize original sin and acted as a barrier between humanity and God. The body was sinful, and therefore shameful, and had to be disciplined. Thus the apostle Paul:

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.
- 1 Corinthians 9:24-27, New International Version

Later, the writers of what became the canonical gospels had Jesus propound an even more unrealistic and hateful version of the same doctrine:

If your hand or your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire. And if your eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell.
- Matt. 18:8-9, New International Version

It's interesting to note that these teachings never seem to have been taken literally in the early church. When enemies of the third-century theologian Origen wanted to bring hin into disrepute, they spread an apparently false rumor that he had taken the Gospel of Matthew literally and castrated himself - because apparently actually doing what Jesus purportedly commanded would have been universally condemned.

This makes sense if you consider what the purpose of teachings like these are. If you can get people to literally hate their own body, and feel ashamed of their normal everyday life, they'll be permanently unhappy. In Paul's metaphor, the race only ends when you die. This is where the priest comes in. The clergy appoint themselves referees in this ghastly parade of self-flagellation; they can tell the suffering faithful that they're mortifying their bodies enough, or shame them for doing too little. Because ordinary life is a constant progression of sins that are impossible to avoid, a good Christian must necessarily be constantly ashamed and guilty. This gives the priest tremendous power over his congregation; exactly like a cult leader over their cultists, only we don't call them cults any more when they get big enough. So these entirely unhinged commandments to mutilate your own body were never meant to be taken seriously: they're there to give priests power over anyone who makes the mistake of believing in them.

This idea of the filthy, sinful body that needs to be constantly disciplined has since jumped from Christian theology to the weight-loss and beauty industries, where it thrives like it once did in churches. For both Christianity and Weight Watchers, cultivating a mind-body dualism where the body is the repulsive enemy of the mind has been excellent business, because it creates a demand for their services in people whose bodies would have been just fine had they not been taught to loathe them. Then again, at least the beauty industry only wants to sell you stuff you don't need; Christianity has done far worse.

The other prominent descendant of the early church and its hatred of the body is neoliberal individualism. In the logic of contemporary politics, unemployment is always the fault of the person without a job. They just need to try harder. In a neoliberal society, each and every citizen needs to heroically strive forward every day of their lives in order to be eligible for full membership in society. All distinctions of privilege are elided; if you were born poor, you should have worked harder. Those of us who are felt by our ruling elites to not be working hard enough are subjected to a constant stream of patronizing advice on how to get ahead, and it's hardly a coincidence that most of it focuses on disciplining the body. People who have never had to add up the cost of their groceries on their way to the checkout will give sermons on how to eat econonically. Tabloids run by millionaires will stoke rage over excessive "benefits" going to undesirables who will supposedly spend the money on extravagances rather than living frugally like the deserving poor should. If only all these lazy wasters would discipline themselves, the refrain always goes, they wouldn't be so poor. Obviously this political system has complex roots, but it's very difficult to not see more than a hint of the Christian idea of unending self-flagellation to prove one's worth. We even treat mental health problems as symptoms of individual weakness that should be adressed through discipline. The net effect is the same as in Christian theology: you are flawed, you are to blame, you must discipline yourself.

It's worth remembering that whatever cruel and hypocritical scam the advertisers come up with next to shame you into buying their products, or whenever a politician stands up to pour scorn on the lazy and idle parasites of society, they're doing nothing that wasn't pioneered two millenia ago by the apostle Paul and the evangelists.

Carcassonne: What to buy

We recently added Carcassonne to our summer board game collection, and it immediately became popular with my extended family. I highly recommend Carcassonne for casual board gaming: it's very easy to pick up, and can accomodate a wide range of play styles from friendly to ultracompetitive.

A post shared by Michael Halila (@michaelhalila) on Jun 19, 2015 at 1:44pm PDT

I'd say one of the biggest obstacles to getting into Carcassonne is the bewildering variety of expansions on offer, from dragons and magic portals to catapults. With that in mind, I thought I'd set down our experiences with some of the basic add-ons.

For starters, I think most editions of the base game come with the River expansion included. I strongly recommend using it with new players, as it forms a very good tutorial: you'll encounter roads, cities and cloisters, and players will get to place followers on them, so they'll have something to build on when the game proper starts.

On that note, River II is also a pretty good add-on: it gives the river a branch and generally makes the initial river setup a little less predictable.

Another mini-expansion you'll probably want to pick up is King (and Scout). King introduces special scoring tiles for the longest road and largest city, which are lovely for encouraging megalomania in players, but also comes with five useful additional tiles for fixing situations that can come up with the base game where a space can be created where no tile can go.

Finally, as the first bigger expansion, I'd definitely recommend Inns and Cathedrals. As with King, it comes with a couple of useful basic tiles, but the meat of the expansion is six Inn tiles and two Cathedrals. The inns are found alongside roads, and give double points for completing the road - but none if it's left unfinished. Cathedrals do the same for cities, which can lead to truly epic struggles for massive cathedral cities. These are made even better by the new "big follower" that comes with the expansion: each player gets one bigger follower figure that counts as two followers when determining who gets to score a road or city. Finally, there's a sixth full set of followers included. Inns and Cathedrals adds to the basic gameplay, but doesn't introduce anything too complex, so in my mind it's almost a must-have expansion.

Beyond these, it's really up to individual taste. The expansions above don't dramatically change the base game, but they enhance it while keeping complexity and playing time under control. From what I've understood, adding too many other major expansions will begin to bog the game down quite badly. Frankly, I've looked at the other big expansions, and none of them really interest me at all. Carcassonne as played with the expansions listed here is an excellent board game; this list should also be a good starting point for exploring the rest of the massive list of add-ons if you're so inclined.

LotR LCG: The Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities

And far away, its dark head in a torn cloud, there loomed the Mountain!
- The Hobbit, chapter X

Having made it over the Misty Mountains, sort of, in the previous instalment of our saga quests, it's finally time to take on the second Hobbit saga expansion, On the Doorstep.

John Howe: Roac, son of Carc, 1979

**

Flies and Spiders

Before we get to talk to ravens, there's only Mirkwood to get through, and that means spiders. To get into the spirit of the source material, there's a poison mechanic: some cards will poison your characters, and if enemies with the Venom keyword do damage, they inflict poison as well. Too much poison will knock characters unconscious until they're revived by a card effect or good old Bilbo Baggins.

So you basically have to quest through the woods and fight spiders, doing your best to not take too much damage. On our first three-handed shot, we got hit with Weighed Down for a couple of turns straight, which kind of messed with everything, and managed to draw a logjam of locations that raised our threat a bit before we could get them cleared. To top it off, I lost a hero to an attack that became undefended when a shadow card gave a Winged Guardian more venom than it could handle (i.e. any). This all gave us enough difficulties getting started that we threated out in the last quest stage.

We took a second shot with the same players, and despite getting off to a better start, we again fell just short of the mark. An easy quest this ain't. The key is intelligent use of Bilbo and his ring to revive unconscious characters; the difficulty is that you're not only racing the threat counter, but there's also an endless horde of spiders to fight off while the venom keeps accumulating.

This is a fun quest though! It's not too easy, can throw a nasty surprise or two at you, and above all really manages to capture the feel of the story you're re-enacting, so to speak. So a very strong start to this expansion!

**

The Lonely Mountain

The second quest sees our heroes burgling the dragon's lair and trying to not get murdered. There are several treasure cards under the Lonely Mountain, and after questing, the first player makes a burgling attempt. Succeed and you get to grab one of the treasures; fail, and Smaug attacks. Later on, you have to either quest enough to escape Smaug or destroy him.

This is a very, very silly quest. In the third quest stage, Smaug is considered engaged with the first player so he attacks every turn, but if he's dealt a shadow card with a burgle effect on it, he immediately attacks again. The initial attack of eight is unpleasant enough on its own, but multiples of it are complete madness. It's perfectly ordinary for Smaug to attack three or four times in a row. I don't know what kind of deck you need to succesfully defend that. Certainly none of us have one. Luck seems to play a ridiculously disproportionate part; if Smaug doesn't go on a frenzy, the quest itself isn't actually all that hard, but it's quite possible to draw an absolutely ridiculous run of burgle cards.

Admittedly Smaug attacking us something like eight times over a couple of turns was absurd enough to be funny, but when we tried this quest three-handed, practically all of our heroes were eaten by a dragon. The burgling mechanic has shades of the horrible riddles of Dungeons Deep and Caverns Dim, and like that quest, this is one I don't think any of us will be interested in trying again.

**

The Battle of Five Armies

So, after being destroyed by rapid fire Smaug, we moved on to the last scenario, an epic battle. To convey epicness, there are no less than three simultaneous quest stages in play, with one requiring regular questing, one battle questing and another siege questing, leading to a final showdown with Bolg.

I've complained about battle questing before, and the Battle of Five Armies also has siece questing, to which the same applies. In effect, with the three quest stages, you have to quest, battle quest and siege quest, all while facing a horde of goblins being boosted by various in-play effects. So to an extent you're trying to do everything twice, and the good old snowball effect also works here: if you get going, things start to work out; if not, you'll be swamped. We gave it a couple of shots, and our experience was more of the latter kind.

I wasn't too sold on this quest, to be honest. The multiple quest stages and accumulating bonuses to the goblins are a decent stab at an epic battle, but for whatever reason I never felt it. The enemies and locations all feel generic and forgettable; the impression isn't so much of a great decisive battle as a huge flood of goblins. So it's like Khazad-dûm outdoors, without a good story.

**

On the Doorstep obviously comes with a bunch of player cards, and like the previous Hobbit box, they're all dwarves. Well, okay, you get Bard the Bowman, and a couple of neat archery cards in Great Yew Bow and Straight Shot, but other than that, it really pretty much is all dwarves.

So you know, get this for the player cards if you really like dwarves? Or the idea of using Great Yew Bow to shoot into the staging area with Legolas. I had a bunch of fun with that with one of my alternative decks, so I actually recommend it!

**

On the whole, though, we weren't terribly impressed with this saga expansion. The first quest is decent, rapid fire Smaug is ridiculous and the climactic final quest kinda wasn't. So after a good first Hobbit box, this was a disappointment. So in all honesty, I have to say I'd only ever recommend buying On the Doorstep if you want the player cards.

**

After making our way through this last Hobbit box and the Dream-chaser cycle, I remain quite satisfied with my deck. However, it can always get better, and over our past few games, I've identified two problem areas: healing and card draw.

To start with healing, I'm going to try including Ioreth.

As an aside, the Haradrim cycle is bringing us new side quests, but I'm not too sold on them. At six quest points and a cost of one, Explore Secret Ways is too marginal an ability - especially when my partner uses Core Legolas - to be worth it. The trouble with side quests is that they're very situational: there are quests where you most definitely want them, like, say, We Must Away, or any quest where you're not placing progress on the main quest, but in tougher quests you just don't have the time to spare for them. This is why I'm not sold on cards like Rider of Rohan, because if I'm playing a quest where side quests are impractical, I've paid three Spirit resources for a two-willpower quester, which isn't a good deal.

The other problem with side quests is manifest in the upcoming Spirit side quest, Rally the West. At one cost and six quest points, putting it in the victory display gives each hero +1 Willpower. Now, I can think of a couple of quests where this might be worthwhile - Redhorn Gate springs to mind - but most of the time, if you can spend a turn's questing to gain the bonus, do you really need it? So the questing-enhancing side quests don't really feel worthwhile to me, because they're "win more" cards.

Next, card draw. Since my brother's apparently given up on the Leadership/Lore deck that was still around for the first quests of this saga box, I can welcome back an old friend: Gléowine, the minstrel of Rohan.

One of the cards I've been using for draw has been Ancient Mathom, and while I like it and it goes well with my deck's location control theme, it can at times be a little tricky to set up. As an experiment, I'm going to try diversifying by bringing in another old Lore favorite of mine: The Long Defeat, which is perfect for my purposes as it provides both card draw and healing.

Also, just in case I run out of cards again, I'm throwing in a single copy of Lindir. He can even defend for 3 if I give him my spare Cloak of Lórien!

Finally, now that I'm in the business of adding single copies of unique characters to my deck, I'm having a copy of Mablung as well. Not only is he a two-cost, two-willpower quester, but since my deck is pretty heavily specialized toward questing and low on attack, we sometimes run into trouble if I end up engaged with too many enemies. Mablung gives me a way to get rid of at least one.

So I effectively now have an oversize deck packed with single copies of unique allies. This isn't great, because it means the deck will be inconsistent: it's highly unlikely that I'll be able to find my single copy of Lindir when I'm out of cards, or Mablung when I really need to get rid of an engaged enemy. But I'm okay with this. As long as the overall proportions of my deck are reasonable, I should be getting decent cards: if not Lindir, then some other questing ally; if not The Long Defeat, then some other card draw; and so on. Most importantly, this should let me get acquainted with some new cards, so I can figure out whether they work with my deck or not.

So far, my 56-card deck has done reasonably well in producing questing power, location control and healing, which is what it's there to do, and doing its bit in combat as well.

56 cards; 31 Spirit, 21 Lore, 4 neutral; 26 allies, 12 attachments, 16 events, 2 side quests. Starting threat 28.

Arwen Undómiel (TDR)
Idraen (TTT)
Rossiel (EfMG)

Allies: 26 (18/7/1)
Jubayr (TM) x2
Northern Tracker x2
Súlien (TCoC)
Lindir (TBoCD)
Rhovanion Outrider (ToTD) x2
Bilbo Baggins (TRD)
Galadriel's Handmaiden (CS) x3
West Road Traveler (RtM) x3
Dúnedain Pathfinder (RAH) x3
Gléowine x2
Mablung (TLoS)
Warden of Healing (TLD) x3
Ioreth (ASoCH)
Gandalf (OHaUH)

Attachments: 12 (6/6)
Unexpected Courage x2
Ancient Mathom (AJtR) x2
Light of Valinor (FoS) x2
A Burning Brand (CatC) x2
Cloak of Lórien (CS) x2
The Long Defeat (TBoCD) x2

Events: 16 (5/8/3)
A Test of Will x3
Elven-light (TDR) x2
Leave No Trace (EfMG) x2
None Return (AtE) x3
Daeron's Runes (FoS) x3
Keen as Lances (EfMG) x3

Side quests:
Double Back (EfMG)
Scout Ahead (TWoE)

Let's Read Tolkien 34: The Ring Goes South

Later that day the hobbits held a meeting of their own in Bilbo's room.

After the massive conference in the previous chapter, Bilbo and Frodo recuperate, while Merry and Pippin insist they be allowed to go with Frodo. First, though, Elrond sends out scouts to gather information, and the hobbits spend two months hanging out in Rivendell.

Eventually the scouts return, with little news except that the Nazgûl are gone, though probably not destroyed. So it's time to leave for Mordor. But who's going?

Elrond makes the very reasonable point that since the idea is to sneak into Mordor rather than assault it, the Company of the Ring will be small. He sets the number at nine, apparently because there are nine Nazgûl, which doesn't really strike me as particularly sound logic, but hey, I'm not an elf-lord, what do I know. Obviously Gandalf is going, and as representatives of their peoples, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn are going as well. Boromir is heading back home, so he joins the Company as well. So, two more are needed to make it nine, and Merry and Pippin insist on coming along. Perhaps surprisingly, Gandalf defends them, arguing that trusting friendship is better here than trying to reason everything out. It's all a damn dubious basis for mounting what is probably the most significant expedition in the history of the world since Eärendil set sail for the Undying Lands, but this is what they're going with.

As for material preparations, the elves reforge Aragorn's sword, and Bilbo privately gives Frodo Sting and his mithril-coat. The pony the hobbits bought from Bill Ferny, now named Bill the Pony, goes with them as a beast of burden. Eventually, toward the end of December, they leave, with Boromir sounding his horn as they go. Elrond's last words with them touch on the duties of the Fellowship. Frodo, having volunteered to bear the Ring, is charged with not handing it over to the Enemy, but beyond that, Elrond stresses that each companion is free to do as they like, and turn aside from the path if they want to. Again, they cross a symbolic bridge over a river, and they're off.

The first leg of the Fellowship's journey is miserable. They sleep by day and travel by night through the barren country south of Rivendell, heading southward parallel to the Misty Mountains. It's cold, made worse by the fact that they light no fires. Eventually, after a fortnight's walk, they make it to Hollin, which is old elf country next to Moria. Gimli rhapsodizes about the nearby mountains, and Gandalf reveals that they'll be trying to cross the mountains by the Redhorn Gate. For now, though, they rest, narrowly avoiding the attentions of some crows from the south which Aragorn thinks are spying on them. It must sometimes be hard to tell the difference between a ranger and a paranoid.

Traveling at night again, the Company bears east for Caradhras, the Redhorn. On the way there, Frodo overhears Gandalf and Aragorn debating the road ahead. A winter crossing of the mountains is obviously hazardous, but the Redhorn Gate is the last pass before the Gap of Rohan far to the south - perilously close to Saruman's fortress of Isengard and the uncertain loyalties of Rohan. Gandalf reminds Aragorn of a third way, but the latter refuses to talk about it. At Boromir's initiative, they collect firewood for the crossing.

As the Fellowship start to climb toward the pass, a heavy snowfall begins and eventually grows into a blizzard. Soon, they begin to hear screams and laughter on the wind, and rocks fall from the heights. They can't go on, because the path leaves the minute shelter of the cliffs where they'd be totally exposed, nor can they go back, so to the best of their ability, the Fellowship camps out of the cliff-face. As snow keeps falling, the barefoot hobbits are well on their way to freezing to death, so a fire has to be made. When everyone else has tried and failed, Gandalf finally casts a spell on the wood to set it on fire, remarking that if anyone is watching, now they'll definitely know who's here.

The fire keeps the Fellowship from dying overnight, but when the snowfall eases off a little before dawn, they're trapped between massive snowdrifts taller than the hobbits. Aragorn and Boromir manage to clear a path through, but the company's only realistic alternative is to retreat back down the pass.

**

So, the traveling circus is on the road. In true Tolkien fashion, the going is miserable and keeps getting worse, until the Fellowship suffers its first proper reverse at Caradhras.

The way the Fellowship is assembled seems a bit odd. Given that they spend two months waiting for scouts to return, you'd think someone would've given the matter some thought. I can't tell if Elrond came up with the idea of the Nine Walkers on the spot; if he did, it seems bizarre that no-one had given it any thought before; if he had, then the offhand "I dunno I'll think of two other dudes later, I guess" is just weird. Maybe Tolkien was suffering from writing fatigue after slogging through the previous chapter!

The brief exchange in the early part of the chapter between Gimli and Elrond on vows and loyalty is significant as another reminder of Tolkien's antiauthoritarianism. When he has Elrond disclaim oaths ("let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall"), it's hard to not recall that Tolkien participated in one of the most monstrously destructive wars in human history, where people were forced into suicidal attacks and shot as traitors if they refused. Again, this insistence that one can't demand unreasonable things from people or try to coerce loyalty is completely irreconcilable with the idea of Tolkien as a fascist. Surely in The Führer of the Rings or whatever Moorcock et al imagine they've read, the Fellowship would swear allegiance to Elrond and Gandalf, on pain of death if they fail. Again, Tolkien expounds the opposite view.

This refusal of loyalty oaths is also a key point with regard to Tolkien's "northern theory of courage": the acceptance of a battle that you can't win, because fighting it is the right thing to do. When Frodo volunteers to bear the Ring, he's demonstrating exactly this kind of courage. Because it's based on individual dedication and initiative - Bilbo creeping down the tunnel toward the dragon - this "northern courage" can't be compelled by oaths or discipline. Elrond recognizes that some will have it and some won't, and it would be wrong to demand it of the latter. In a time of rampant jingoism and white feathers, this was very much a minority view.

The red star Frodo sees from his window at Rivendell piqued my interest with its almost Lovecraftian burning glare. Given Tolkien's footnote about the Big Dipper in Chapter 10 of Book 1, the night sky in Middle-earth is more or less the same as ours. Astronomically, the likeliest candidate for the bright red star low in the South would be Aldebaran. In terms of symbolism, though, Mars (Carnil in Middle-earth): war rising in the south fits the theme! I was also quite entertained by a suggestion in a discussion thread that the red star is actually Morgoth, peeping over the Walls of Night. With Tolkien, of course, it could well be all of these things.

On the Fellowship's attempt at the Redhorn Gate, they have rocks dropped on them from above. Presumably these are Stone-giants like the ones Thorin and company encountered in Chapter 4 of the Hobbit, or something similar, and the discussion the Fellowship has about them is one of my favorite exchanges in the book:

"We cannot go further tonight," said Boromir. "Let those call it the wind who will; there are fell voices on the air; and these stones are aimed at us."
"I do call it the wind," said Aragorn. "But that does not make what you say untrue. There are many evil and unfriendly things in the world that have little love for those that go on two legs, and yet are not in league with Sauron, but have purposes of their own. Some have been in this world longer than he."
"Caradhras was called the Cruel, and had an ill name," said Gimli, "long years ago, when rumour of Sauron had not been heard in these lands."

Especially when coming back down the mountain, everyone basically agrees that Caradhras didn't want them to pass and intentionally stopped them. It's not clear if they're incorrectly attributing agency to weather or if they're right and the mountain just hates them. There's an intersection of two things that I think make Tolkien's world-building so succesful here. First, Caradhras and the Redhorn Gate are another example of Tolkien's animate landscapes, like the Old Forest earlier: both are very effectively depicted as being alive and malicious. Secondly, and in my mind more importantly, these places have stories and identities of their own, completely separate from the main plot of the book. This really makes the world feel much more alive and much less reducible to functional plot elements.

In general, trying to cross a hazardous mountain pass in midwinter seems like a terrible idea, especially if you've brought along a quartet of fucking hippies with no shoes on. Gandalf has to use magic to save them, and I should say that I also really like the way magic works in The Lord of the Rings. Now, we know Gandalf can cast spells; recall him setting wolves on fire in the Hobbit. So why doesn't he solve every problem by blasting it with magic? Because magic is loud and spectacular, and announces to everyone that Gandalf is here blasting on some fools. The old Middle-earth Role-Playing game had a pretty good mechanic for this, where using magic meant a chance that nearby enemies would detect the characters. As with Gandalf's remark to Elrond earlier on how even an elf-lord like Glorfindel couldn't storm the Black Gate to get the Fellowship to Mordor, these are all reminders that this isn't Harry Potter and the Ring of Power, and the problem of evil won't be solved by brute force.

So, the Fellowship is on the move, and the quest of the Ring has properly begun. After all the talking in the last chapter, it's good to read a little travelogue again. Not only does Tolkien make the trip seem appropriately dreary, but the battle against the elements is decently executed as well. The feeling is conveyed that this is going to be a long and arduous journey even without orcs or Ring-wraiths.

**

Next time, spelunking.