A personal follow-up to my post on reading Tolkien: remembrances of reading The Silmarillion when it was new …
I had read The Lord of the Rings a decade earlier and noted the reference to The Silmarillion in the appendices, and I’d been involved in Tolkien fandom for three years by then and was well-primed for the book’s appearance. As Tolkien had been dead for four years before the book appeared, and I had no idea how much work it took to put it together, I was suspicious of the delay, and wondered aloud if it really existed. (I was thinking of Sibelius’s Eighth Symphony, often promised but never released.)
Official publication date was September 15, but my girlfriend got a call on September 2 from the bookstore where she’d pre-ordered that the copies had come in. (My bookstore – I lived in a different city – got shafted and didn’t get their copies until later.) So we stopped in at the store and picked it up the next morning at the start of a previously planned trip to the Renaissance Fair. She drove and I spent the 2-hour drive reading aloud from The Silmarillion.
Some other people I knew who were eager to read The Silmarillion but couldn’t get hold of a copy were two blind friends. So I read it aloud for them – trading off chapters with another mutual friend, and doing it in the blind friends’ apartment while they listened and had a tape recorder running. It took us 3 separate sessions and was long and hungry work, and lines like “the green hill of Túna” made us salivate.
So when our Mythopoeic Society book-discussion group covered it the next month, by gum I brought to the communal snack table the green hill of Túna. With advice from my mother, I’d baked a fish loaf in a round pyrex bowl, flipped it upside down, and covered it in parsley. It was a big hit.
While reading the book, I noticed that, while there were no dates, there were lots of references to time intervals. It occurred to me that it would be possible to chain these together and make a chronology. So I re-read the entire book to do that (this was my third reading within a month) and sent the result to the American Tolkien Society, because I figured they’d be fastest at publishing it. It appeared in the Minas Tirith Evening-Star a month later, making me the first person ever to publish a chronology of the First Age.
One more thing. By two years later, the book had appeared in Braille, and my blind friends of course got a copy. At Mythcon that year, one of them read the Ainulindalë aloud to a bunch of us in the dark, and let me tell you, that was a truly memorable listening experience.