THE TRIAL OF TOLKIEN : THE SEQUEL
The late J.R.R. Tolkien, Oxford Don and Author Extraordinaire had been condemned by his own creations, the Nine of the Fellowship, to read the stories of his so-called greatest fans.
The burning fires of Hell would have been preferable.
"Why doesn't he just stop reading them?" one may well ask.
Ah, but therein lies the true Evil of Fanfics : their Power of Attraction is greater than the Ring's; and that's saying something.
And the Ring, by comparison, was fairly easy to destroy : after all, there was only one, and a handy volcano…
There were, at the latest count, 6135 Fanfics and rising.
The Author was reading and weeping at the same time. He could not help himself;
Suddenly , there was a small voice, almost a whisper, calling him :
"Psssst! Mr. Tolkien, sir!"
He looked up, and saw Frodo and Sam, carrying a basket between them.
Struggling to maintain some dignity, he wiped away his tears.
"What is it? Have you come to torment me further? Is it not enough that I have to read this…this…"the poor man choked on a new flood of tears.
"There there!" cried Frodo,"Don't worry. It's just that , don't you know, we thought,maybe, you being our Creator and all, that, well…"
"We brought you some food!" said Sam.
"Food?"
"Yes, we thought you might be hungry."
The Author was about to argue he was dead so how could he possibly be hungry, when suddenly he realised that he was.
"Bless your kind hearts! What have you brought me?"
Frodo held out the basket.
"Mushrooms!" he announced, proudly. He had figured that, as Hobbits were overfond of mushrooms, their Creator would forcibly be so too.
"Stewed? Baked? Fried…on toast?"
"Why, no, raw of course, and freshly picked : compliments of Farmer Maggot." said Frodo.
They were beaming up at him, and Tolkien did not have the heart to tell them that raw mushrooms were not his idea of a culinary delight.
"Take that one." pointed Sam encouragingly, "It still has got some earth on. Gives 'em extra flavour, so to speak."
It occured to the Author that perhaps this was a poison-attempt, yet looking at Frodo's honest face and Sams dog-like eyes chased this fear away. Besides, hé had written their characters, and he was fairly sure that such a low deed was not in them. On the other hand, they hàd voted with the others on putting him through the Fanfic ordeal…
A sudden patter of feet broke this train of thought.
"Someone's coming!" hissed Frodo, "Quick, Sam, the basket, hide!"
They drew their elven cloaks from Lothlorien about them, making themselves quasi invisible.
The newcomers had apparantly had the same idea of walking unseen, for out of the blue popped Merry and Pippin, drawing their cloaks aside.
"Hello!" said Merry, " We heard your screaming and crying, so we thought, well, you know, we're not thàt Evil, we only meant to punish you, so we brought you some basic comfort."
"And what might that be, my good Hobbit?" queried Tolkien, smilingly.
"Longbottom Leaf!The 1417 crop, a good year." Said Merry, producing a pouch. " And a pipe!" added Pippin, holding it up.
"My dear, dear Hobbits!"said Tolkien, moved almost to tears.
"Merry, can you smell mushrooms too, or is it just my imagination?"
Out of nowhere came a soft chuckle, and Frodo and Sam reappeared.
"It seems, dear cousins, that we all shared the same idea!"laughed Frodo.
"Why don't we all sit and share a smoke and mushrooms?" suggested Tolkien, " There is enough for everybody."
"Don't mind if I do!" cried the hobbits, and they made themselves comfortable on the ground, passing around pipe and basket. It had barely gone round twice, when a soft, fair voice spoke :"What's this, my merry friends, fraternising with the enemy?"
It was Legolas, come upon them at unawares, as Elves do. He was hiding something behind his back.
The Hobbits looked guilty at being found out, but less so as he laughed and showed them what it was : a flask of wine and a small cup.
"I do believe we all felt pity in our hearts for our 'victim' : I thought of bringing the wine! The finest Dorwinion vintage."
Frodo eyed the Elf with some suspicion.
"Legolas, I've heard of that one : it's quiet heady. You weren't planning on inebriating mr.Tolkien, now, were you?"
"No more than you were on poisoning him!" laughed the Elf, and poured the wine into the cup.
Tolkien drank gratefully.
"Thank you, friend Elf. That was the best I have ever tasted. Yet I thought you were all set on making me suffer?"
"Ah. Yes. Or rather, no, we were set on punishing you. It is not quite the same thing. And we Elves are not a cruel people, nor are Hobbits, it appears…but soft: I hear someone coming. A Man's footfalls : Boromir, or Aragorn…the former I would say."
Quickly, they all hid within the folds of their elven cloaks, Frodo and Sam sitting atop of the basket, Merry and Pippin taking charge of the pipe and Legolas of the wine.
It was indeed Boromir, carrying a pile of books and papers under his arm, and a serious expression on his face.
"Ahem. I came to see if you had need of anything : food, drink, medical assistance, that sort of thing."
"All taken care of, friend Boromir!" cried Legolas, throwing aside his cloak, with the others following example, " Out of the kindness of our hearts. What motive had you? I find it strange that a military man such as yourself, much less a warlord of Gondor, could be moved by pity."
"Nothing of the sort!" said Boromir, his sudden colouring belieing that assurance, " I merely wished to know if our POW was being correctly treated."
"POW ?" asked Pippin, astonished.
"Prisoner of War. I have been reading up on human custom in cases such as these - fascinating! They have this thing called the Geneva Convention, that has strict regulations about it. We don't want to be accused of having some kind of Quantanamo Bay here, now, do we?Military correctness and all that. I was thinking…" he paused, seemingly embarrassed, " Perhaps we condemmed this man to hastily : we should reopen his case, sent him to the Court of The Hague; it seems they deal with crimes against humanity there, I suppose crimes against the various peoples of Middle Earth would be held accountable as well."
"Quite."said Legolas, not having a clue what the Man was on about, but recognising the humanitarian aspects.
"And Aragorn? What does he say to this…is he coming too?"
"I doubt it." said Boromir, " I spoke to him about this of course, he is my Captain and King after all…but…"
He shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable."There is the Power Behind the Throne as well…and Arwen…"
"Indeed.Arwen. Tell me, Boromir, does this Court of The Hague also allows for crimes against husbands?"
"Not that I am aware of, but I have some papers here…" he rummaged trough the stack, " Universal declaration of the Rights of Man, Bill of Rights, Boyscout Oath, Magna Charta…ah, here it is!" he took out a document and started to read : " When in the Course of human events it becomes nescessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth , the seperate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation."
He looked up. "Would that do? Change a few words : person for people, marital for political, and it should apply, don't you think?"
"Ask him. I hear him coming ."
They did not bother to hide as Aragorn tiptoed in, looking furtively over his shoulder.
"Oh! What are you all doing here?"
"Watching over Human Rights and PeeOWees!" said Merry, "What are you doing here though? Does Arwen know?"
"Hush!Not so loud!" said Aragorn, "She doesn't. She would be most annoyed if she knew. But when Boromir told me about this Geneva Convention thing I thought…" he trailed off, and looked over his shoulder again.
"The very prototype of the Hen-pecked Husband. Married life is such fun!" muttered Legolas to himself, and louder, cheerfully, to Aragorn: "Oh yes, Boromir's full of ideas lately. Go on, tell him about this Declaration of Independence."
"Don't talk to me about independence!" cried the poor harried King, "She's been going on about it since the day we were wed! And about Woman's Lib, feminism, Emancipation…"
"Ouch!" said Pippin,"What is that, exactly? Sounds painful."
"You don't know half of it. Ever since she started reading those books by that Germaine Greere woman…you'd think there were more pleasant ways to pass married life."
"There are."said Sam, sombrely, " That's how I got my fourteen kids."
"Aren't we leaving out of sight our reason for being here?" put in Frodo, "I believe we all agree that we were to hasty at the trial of mr.Tolkien here. Except, it seems, our Wizard and Dwarf. Unless Gimli is coming too, Legolas, do you know?"
The Elf shook his head sadly.
"Alas, I fear he can not be moved : you know how stiff-necked Dwarves can be. As for Gandalf : I am surprised at his attitude, one would think he would be the first to be moved to pity : but apparently he has seen fit to put aside his compassion this time. It was always his weakness, so he says, and he is determined that it should not be so this time. He will not be swayed."
"Seven against two."said Boromir, "That constitutes a majority. We win hands down."
"Win what?" asked Sam, "Are you planning to let mr.Tolkien go?"
The Author looked up hopefully.
"Surely not!" cried Boromir, and the Author's hope was squashed, " I was merely thinking of a more legal form of punishment, according to the rules of civilised society and whatnot."
"You know, it hasd occured to me that perhaps we have been overshooting our mark."said Legolas.
"These Fanfics, from what I've read, are far worse than anything Master tolkien has inflicted upon us. Maybe we should direct our arrows at these "authors" instead."
"Hear, hear!" cried Tolkien.
"What do you mean, Legolas, that we should search them all out, and punish them instead? But there are so many!"cried Merry.
"A mass trial."mused Boromir, " Could be feasible, though. I hear it has been done before at a place called Nürenberg…"
"Perhaps we should just educate them a little."said Frodo. "I've read one Fanfic about some kind of University for fanfic writers…"
They all stared at him as if he were mad.
"What, bringing those …those people into Middle Earth?!"cried Pippin, aghast.
"It would be worse than the Uruk-Hai!"shuddered Merry.
"I will be cruelly tortured!" wailed legolas, " Or have unspeakeable sexual acts performed upon me. These creatures are obsessed with sex and violence! And then those teenage girls all over me! No Frodo, you can definitely write that off as a Bad Idea."
"Indeed," said Tolkien, " I do not think it would work anyway. I have some experience in the Educative Branch, so I know a little bit about it. It's a lifelong job, and then there's the next generation to think of. And from what I've read, it would be a hopeless task. This obsession was already around when I was alive, the beginning of it anyway, and it has apparently grown worse since.Idon't know, maybe it's all these hormones sloshing about the food-chain, or maybe these kids get just too many vitamins; they are far too healthy for their own good and have too much time on their hands, now, in my time we put kids to work in the mines and then there was the Great War and…erm…well. As for the horror stories, they can only be the product of a very sick mind, I mean, Sade and lovecraft and Poe had at least some literary merit and…oh dear, I am rambling on, am I?"
"A bit."said Aragorn generously, "But I believe we can all agree that these Fanfic writers are a dreadfull breed, that ought to be put down. Still, Merry has a point. There are so many, and they are all over, yes? This Internet stuff is not limited to one place."
"True."said Boromir," I know something about it, as I have been using it for my research. Could be a bit of a challenge, military speaking, to smoke them all out, like the terrorists they are. Hmmmm. I should consult my contacts on the net…I have this ongoing chat-session with this chap called Bush and a mr.Sharon….they take a very hard line in these matters. Round them all up and nuke them. All in one blow."
"Oh, we can't do that!" cried Sam, "Not all of these writers are bad."
Boromir shrugged." Collateral damage. Unavoidable, I'm afraid. Still, those are acceptable losses."
"Would it not be simpler to nip the Evil in the Bud?" asked Aragorn, " after all, it started with the books mr. Tolkien wrote."
There was a momentary silence.
"What? What did I say?"
"aragorn." Said Legolas slowly, gently, "Those books brought us into being. What do you suppose would happen to us if somehow through a feat of timetravel, master Tolkien were to be prevented from ever writing them?"
"Ah. Uhm. Yes, that rather would be what Boromir would call Overkill, wouldn't it?"
Legolas nodded sollemly and patted the King on the back. "Well done. Now why don't you go back to Arwen, and let us worry about the details, hmmm?"
"Oh, yes, I should go, really, she does so insist on me being on time for dinner…"
Legolas watched his friends retreating back, torn between amusement and pity.
"I should have warned him about how headstrong Elven women are. Marriage! I'm glad I've avoided it. It does weird things to your brain."
"You know," said Frodo, "Maybe it isn't marriage that did this. He doesn't sound like Aragorn at all. In fact, none of us sound much like us at all."
"You mean…we're acting in a Fanfic right now?"
"Er…yes. I think so."
"AAAAAARGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!"
It took some time for them to pull themselves together again.
And then they all sollemly swore vengeance upon the Fanfic writers.
"Make no mistake," said Boromir, "WE ARE AT WAR!!"