Nicol Williamson and the Definitive Hobbit

Last December, I was discouraged by Peter Jackson.

This December, I am discouraged by Steven Greydanus’ suggestion that I will probably still be discouraged by Peter Jackson.

So, I’m doing what any reasonable person does when confronted by the specter of such bitter, Hobbit-themed disappointment: I’m listening to Nicol Williamson!

Take it away, Internet Archive:

In the 1970s, professor J.R.R. Tolkien made a few audio recordings of some readings from his works “The Hobbit” and “Lord of the Rings” which were released through the spoken-word label Caedmon Audio. Around the same time Tolkien authorized a adaptation of “The Hobbit” to be made through the UK record label Argo Records which had been absorbed by Decca Records at the time. This adaptation was spearheaded by Demi Demetriou who enlisted the help of the Scottish actor Nicol Williamson. His talent with voicework allowed him to collaborate with audio director Harely Usill in re-editing the original script, removing many ‘he said, she said, said so and so’ etc, and relying instead on his vocal character performances to convey who was saying what to whom. As a result the resulting abridged version of The Hobbit was both dramatic and unique without an over-reliance on the descriptive narrative.

OK, yes. Using “definitive” in this context is silly, snobby, mean-spirited, snobby, risky, snobby, etc. — both because it’s paring my love of a particularly juicy apple with my distaste for last year’s lemon (which isn’t quite cricket), and because there are already a number of beloved recordings. Rob Inglis’ version is worthy of particular note, and there are a number of BBC dramatizations that I have semi-enjoyed, as well. Plus, there will almost certainly be more in the future. (A pleasing surge in popularity for the original work is well underway as a result of PJ’s “epic,” which gives me something to thank him for, at least.)

But for me, it will always be Williamson, whose interpretation was an influential and much-beloved part of my childhood. The first few bars of music are all I need to bring me instantly back to that time from whence I came. I recall with fondness the many quiet afternoons I spent perched in my parents’ library with no companionship other than Williamson’s mellifluous tones. Let those tones wash over you, and soothe away the ache of the latest missed Hobbitish opportunity.