Bibliomancy...Tolkien style

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

From the Oxford English Dictionary:

Bibliomancy: Divination by books, or by verses of the Bible.

1753 CHAMBERS Cycl. Supp., Bibliomancy..amounts to much the same with what is otherwise called sortes biblicae..F. J. Davidius, a jesuit, has published a bibliomancy. 1864 N. & Q. Ser. III. V. 195/2 Bibliomancy or Divination by Books, was known to the ancients under the appellation of Sortes Homericæ and Sortes Virgilianæ. The practice was to take up the works of Homer and Virgil, and to consider the first verse that presented itself as a prognostication of future events.

An interesting practise, no? Most people are aware of bibliomancy only in relation to the Bible, but as the above demonstrates, it is a practice that predates the Bible and which continues to be applied to books other than the Christian Bible. Bibliomancy is easily done, even by the beginner:

1. Place a book on its spine
2. Let it fall open
3. Close your eyes and trace your finger across the pages to a random point
4. Open your eyes and read the paragraph your finger has fallen upon
5. Predict your future based on that passage

Given that this is a site dedicated to our mutual appreciation of a marvellous book, it seems only fitting that we accord it such reverence. So go grab your favourite copy of The Lord of the Rings and bibliomance away. I suppose you can also use The Hobbit if you wish, but I would go to The Silmarillion only at your peril. As to the HoME, well, don't say I didn't warn you.

To get the ball rolling, here's what I found and what I make of it:

They found that they were looking at a most extraordinary face. It belonged to a large man-like, almost troll-like figure, at least fourteen foot high, very sturdy, with a tall head, and hardly any neck. Whether it was clad in stuff like green and grey bark, or whether that was its hide, was difficult to say. At any rate the arms, at a short distances from the trunk, were not wrinkled, but covered with brown smooth skin. The large feet had seven toes each. The lower part of the long face was covered with a sweeping grey beard, bushy, almost twiggy at the roots, thin and mossy at the ends. But at the moment the hobbits noted little but the eyes. These deep eyes were now surveying them, slow and solemn, but very penetrating. They were brown, shot with a green light.

There are two ways for me to interpret this passage. Either I will someday look at a person such as is being described or I shall become that person.

In the former case, I can only assume that I will get into some kind of terrible trouble because I somewhat foolishly but entirely bravely decided to follow a friend into mortal danger and thus get caught up in events which I barely understand. I will be little more than a passive observer to most of what goes on around me, and I will have to rely on the deep wisdom and strength of this person to guide and help me. This person will be a little odd but interesting in his own right. I would do best to leave my axe at home. I will conclude my adventure with a meal. Probably several meals.

In the latter case (in which I am the person being observed, rather than the observer himself) I shall get remarkably hoary and ragged in my old age. People shall look at me and think "what an odd fellow" but I will manage to impress them nonetheless. I will catch some form of skin disease and grow some extra appendages but I will apparently be able to accept both. I will grow a beard. I will become much taller and both more helpful and less sociable than I am now. In brief, I will become my father.

What does your future hold in store for you?

[Child of the 7th Age]

Fordim -

This is an incredibly clever idea for a thread! I expect I will be back several times if multiple posts are allowed. I remember late at night lying in my bed with the covers drawn over my head and doing this with the help of my flashlight. I thought my parents didn't even know that I was reading and playing games with books after I went to bed, but of course they did.

OK, here goes my first try..... I am using The Hobbit.

But men remembered little of all that, though some still sang old songs of the dwarf-kings of the Mountain, Thror and Thrain of the race of Durin, and of the coming of the Dragon, and the fall of the lands of Dale. Some sang too that Thror and Thrain would come back one day and gold would flow in rivers, through the mountain-gates, and all that land would be filled with new song and new laughter. But this pleasant legend did not much affect their daily business.

Hmm... Well, I am wondering if my subconscious purposely led me to a passage that deals with "money" issues. One of our offspring is preparing to leave for college and I am forking out money right and left. Our small hoard of gold is rapidly shrinking as we pay for clothes, plane tickets, room and board, laptops, etc. etc. This passage is probably telling me something I already know....that despite my dreams of finding a treasure to make this whole process easier, my dreams are no more than thin air. I shall likely remain in pinched circumstances at least over the next four years.

Ah, if I had only put my finger on the passage where Bilbo found the dragon hoard or was allotted his fair share of the treasure!

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Originally Posted by Child of the 7th Age

Ah, if I had only put my finger on the passage where Bilbo found the dragon hoard or was allotted his fair share of the treasure!

Take heart! Rather than seeing your fate in the Dwarves, there is another figure in the passage:

though some still sang old songs...of the coming of the Dragon

Perhaps you shall find yourself sufficiently pinched that you shall take wing in a great spout of fire and descend upon a hapless people to seize their gold for yourself. Just be sure that the offspring are all out of college before you go into a fury over someone stealing one of your ill-gotten trinkets! Better yet, just let the loss go and stay put rather than attacking the nearby -- and apparently defenceless -- village!

By the way: multiple posts are not only allowed, but encouraged!

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Sounds like my kind of thing. Using The Lord of the Rings...

And Celeborn said: "I do not know, Eldest.' But Galadriel said: 'Not in Middle Earth, nor until the land that lie under the wave are lifted up again. Then in the willow-meads of Tasarinan we may meet in the spring. Farewell'

This passage speaks but one word: Doom! Doom, Doom, Doom!

But seriously, it seems that what the future holds is uncertain with regard to... I don't know... meeting someone who has springs for legs. Some willow may try and trip me up with a willow branch and I'll be caught under a wave.
I'm sure Zebedee will help me, good old springy!

[Mithalwen]

The only Tolkien book I have on me is a paperback copy of The Silmarillion which is refusing to fall open. Does this mean I have no future?

[Formendacil]

Originally Posted by Mithalwen

The only Tolkien book I have on me is a paperback copy of The Silmarillion which is refusing to fall open. Does this mean I have no future?

Considering that about 95% of the Silmarillion is doom and gloom, this may mean an exceptionally bright outlook in the near future for you.

[wilwarin538]

Very interesting, I decided to use the Two Towers.

"Save me!" said Sam turning white, and then flushing scarlet. "There I go again! When ever you open your big mouth you put your foot in it the Gaffer used to say to me, and right enough. O dear, O dear!"

The only logical way I can interpret this paragraph, without reading the paragraphs before and after, is that I need saving because I can't keep my mouth shut. O dear indeed. I don't even talk that much. *Runs off to mime school*

Interesting idea Fordim.

[Mithalwen]

Yes and the less depressing 5% was the index and appendix . *still waiting for book to fall open despite flicking the pages.... you may wish to make a cup of tea .... or a large and elaborate banquet..*

[wilwarin538]

It's true, I tried the Sil, the Hobbit, and both of the other LotR, but they refused to fall open. TTT did after about a minute.

[Mithalwen]

Because I had to blow on the pages to make the book fall open and then it fell unsurprisingly almost exactly to the middle. And my wandering hands picked:

"Then a winter, as it were the hoar age of mortal Men, fell upon Thingol. But Luthien came to the Halls of Mandos, where are the appointed places of the Eldalie, beyond the mansions of the West upon the confines of the World. There those that wait sit in the shadow of their thought. But her beauty was more than their beauty, and her sorrow deeper than their sorrows; and she knelt before Mandos and sang to him"

Yep...I'm doomed......

OR

I am going to grieve my Aged Parent who is severely Cymru-phobic and participate in an Eisteddfod... ( my grandmother on the other side was Welsh..)

OR despite my woeful ignorance of genre I should get over my panic and persevere with ME Idol.....

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Aragorn had brought torches from Dunharrow, and now he went ahead bearing one aloft; and Elladan with another went at the rear, and Gimli, stumbling behind, strove to overtake him. He could see nothing but the dim flame of the torches; but if the company halted, there seemed an endless whisper of voices all about him, a murmur of words in no tongue that he had ever heard before.


Well, it appears that I am going to be left behind in terror and shadow.

Thanks for cheering me up, Fordim.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Alas, not even my 33-year old paperbacks will fall open - apparently they made the spines better back in those days! I tried it with several different ones, and the only one that fell open at all was FotR, which opened to the very first page - not even the title nor anything else by Tolkien, but the quotes of several reviews.

The one my fingers found was Auden's:

For any one who likes the genre to which it belongs, the Heroic Quest, I cannot imagine a more wonderful Christmas present.... No fiction I have read in the last five years has given me more joy than The Fellowship of the Ring.

Interpreting that is worse than trying to make sense of Malbeth's prophecies! Either I should be looking for Christmas presents already - maybe figuring out if someone should get a copy of LotR - or I should start writing another chapter of that Heroic Quest, The Revenge of the Entish Bow, before the holiday season begins.

Then again, maybe I have my own Heroic Quest lying ahead of me! Lots of joy before Christmas...

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The Paperback Problem is not one I had anticipated. Here is a solution.

1. Hold the book upright loosely by the spine, so that the pages fan out slightly
2. hold a card or piece of paper in your free hand and bring it down into a random point amongst the fanned open pages
3. proceed as above

[Estelyn Telcontar]

You mean an alternate future is possible for me? But I've already booked the flight for my Heroic Quest...

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

It was an amusing moment just now when I decided to mess with forces beyond my control. Pulling from my floor (a location conveniently next to my over-cluttered desk) my battered and possibly ill-gotten paperback RotK, I sat upon my bed with it. I tried to balance it upon its spine. It failed. A good six times.

Eventually I sort of threw it in the air and jabbed a finger into the pages while I caught it. With my eyes closed, I found a paragraph.

Leod was the name of Eorl's father. He was a tamer of wild horses; for there were many at that time in the land. He captured a white foal, and it grew quickly to a horse strong, and fair, and proud. No man could tame it. When Leod dared to mount it, it bored him away, and at last threw him, and Leod's head struck a rock, and so he died. He was then only two and forty years old, and his son a youth of sixteen.

And so based upon this, I suspect that I will either leave a kid behind when I die a painful death due to my own daring... or I am a wild horse that no man may tame.

Ooh, I like the latter. Yes. 'Tis my light skin that gives it away. Young and pale, fair, proud, strong... Yes, yes, I like this. Untamed. So very true. Fatal. Oh lovely.

[Diamond18]

I got out my big, fancy Red Book edition of the trilogy and placed it on the floor. For a few moments it refused to fall open, then the back fell, revealing a page of the index. I dutifully closed my eyes and placed my hand down, to find this:

Angbor, III 151, 153, 157 (see Lord of Lamden)

Turning to these pages I find:

Only Angbor, Lord of Lamedon, had the heart to abide us; and Aragorn bade him gather folk and come behind, if they dared, when the Grey Host had past.

'That night we rested while others labored. For there were many captives set free, and many slaves released who had been folk of Gondor taken in raids; and soon also there was a great gathering of men out of Lebennin and the Ethir, and Angbor of Lamedon came up with all the horsemen that he could muster.

'We have not only to reckon with those who fought on this field,' said Aragorn. 'New strength is on the way from the southern fiefs, now that the coats have been rid. Four thousands I sent marching from Pelagir through Lossarnach two days ago; and Angbor the Fearless rides before them.'

The Hobbit refused to fall open. It just flopped over onto the cover.

The Silmarillion did the same thing.

Poems and Stories fell open to the back flap, with the bio of J.R.R. Tolkien.

J.R.R. Tolkien was born on January 3rd, 1892. Apart from his long and distinguished academic career, he is best known for his extraordinary works of fiction The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion. His books are translated into over 25 languages and have sold many millions of copies worldwide. He was awarded a CBE, and an honorary Doctorate of Letters from Oxford University in 1972. He died in 1973 at the age of 81.

So, obviously, I am fearless and will have great publishing success, then die at the age of 81.

I may try that alternate method, Fordim, since I couldn't get the Hobbit or Sil to spill anything.

[Macalaure]

The ones that fell open were the Silm:

The orcs and the wolves went freely through all the North, and came ever further southward into Beleriand, even as far as Nan-tathren, the Land of Willows, and the borders of Ossiriand, and none were safe in field or wild.

Seemingly an advice to not go out and stay at home.


and, after a while, the Fellowship:

'That is true,' said Legolas. 'But the Elves of this land were of a race strange to us of the silvan folk, and the trees and the grass do not now remember them. Only I hear the stones lament them: deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they builded us; but they are gone. They are gone. They sought the Havens long ago.'

What could this mean?

[Formendacil]

Originally Posted by Macalaure

What could this mean?

Clearly it ties in with the "stay at home" theme of the Silm's advice: your home will miss you (and you it) should you leave. You belong there.

[Celuien]

The spine on my paperback edition of The Return of the King is stubborn, and so I used the fan and card method to find this:

With a last despairing effort Frodo raised himself on his hands, and struggled on for maybe twenty yards. Then he pitched down into a shallow pit that opened unexpectedly before them, and there he lay like a dead thing.

Am I working on a difficult task at which I am doomed to failure?

[Diamond18]

Trying the alternate method.... I'll need help interpreting these.

The Hobbit was fairly obvious:

"A little sleep does a great cure in the house of Elrond," said he; "But I will take all the cure I can get. A second good night, fair friends!" And with that he went back to bed and slept till late morning.

I like to sleep. I like to sleep till late morning, or late afternoon, or really, anytime. The only time I don't actually sleep is at night or most evenings. So, this is quite clearly an indication that my hours are not going to be changing anytime soon.

But the others strike me as a bit cryptic:

LotR

So now Lord Faramir had gone forth again, and had taken with him such strength of men as were willing to go or could be spared. On the walls some gazed through the gloom towards the ruined city, and they wondered what chanced there, for nothing could be seen. And others, as ever, looked north and counted the leagues to Theoden in Rohan. "Will he come? Will he remember our old alliance?" they said.

Sil

Galadriel indeed had wished that Mithrandir should be the head of the Council, and Saruman begrudged them that, for his pride and desire of mastery was grown great; but Mithrandir refused the office, since he would have no ties and no allegiance, save to those who sent him, and he would abide in no place nor be subject to any summons. But Saruman now began to study the lore of the Rings of Power, their making and their history.

Poems and Stories

And so it was that the dragon, charging down the line, suddenly saw straight in front of him his old enemy with Tailbiter in his hand. It was the last thing he expected. He swerved aside like a great bat and collapsed on the hillside close to the road. Up came the grey mare, quite forgetting to walk lame. Farmer Giles, much encouraged, had scrambled hastily on her back.

[Glirdan]

Okay, tried it with RotK first, nothing. Than The Sil and that just stayed put!!! Even if I blow on it, it doesn't open!! TTT did nothing. Unfinished Tales did the same thing as the Sil. and then the Hobbit and FotR did nothing. Cursed Paperbacks!!!

[THE Ka]

Originally Posted by Glirdan

Okay, tried it with RotK first, nothing. Than The Sil and that just stayed put!!! Even if I blow on it, it doesn't open!! TTT did nothing. Unfinished Tales did the same thing as the Sil. and then the Hobbit and FotR did nothing. Cursed Paperbacks!!!

I tried it out for fun and kept getting the coverpage or the title page to The Fellowship of the Rings...

~ Ka

[Azaelia of Willowbottom]

Sil won't open for me. I stand it up, and it slowly flops over, with either the inner front or inner back open. In other words, I guess that either my future is a blank slate, ready for me to write it myself, or I should just be happy, because, as a few others have pointed out, Sil is majorly depressing.

Tried it again using Fordim's paperback method and got this...

So the great darkness fell on Valinor. Of the deeds that day much is told in the Aldudene, that Elemmire of the Vanyar made and is known to all the eldar. Yet no song could contain all the grief and terror that then befell. The Light failed; but the Darkness that followed was more than loss of light. In that hour was made a Darkness that seemed not lack but a thing with being of its own, for it was indeed made by malice out of Light, and it had power to pierce the eye, and to enter heart and mind, and strangle the very will.

Oh dear...that's what I get for not leaving well enough alone. I didn't think college would be that bad...!

[THE Ka]

Yay, Fordim's way worked with zero coverpages!

Here's the first one from ROTK,

Faithful servant yet master's bane,
Lightfoot's foal, swift Snowmane.

I don't like the idea of being pierced by a black dart, and then crushing Theoden.
The only thing I can get from this is I unintentually end up putting people in harm's way.

The second one from FOTR, is no better:

'Maybe,' said Gandalf. 'But I do not know yet exactly where we are. Unless I am quite astray, I guess that we are above and to the north of the Great Gates; and it may not be easy to find the right road down to them...'

Obviously, I seem to have directional problems, and I seem to figure things out as I remember more about them.


~ Ka

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

For Sam still stood upon his feet, and dropping his own sword, with both hands he held the elven-blade point upward, fending off that ghastly roof; and so Shelob, with the driving force of her own cruel will, with strength greater than a warrior’s hand, thrust herself upon a bitter spike. –TTT

My, this reminds me of Ealasaide’s story of dispatching spiders in her hall with a sword!

But other things do spring to mind as well. One must hold on to the higher things, greater than one’s self in order to overcome the crushing weight and strength of the worst of the world. Those higher things I imagine as being ideals, beauty, art or things that point sharply to the nature of Eru and his unsullied vision for Arda.

Or it might simply mean I should not suffer spiders to thrive in my house, lest they eventually overwhelm us, with ghastly designs of hanging us like so many hams from the ceiling. *shudder*

Of course I have frequently been feeling as though I have been trying to unravel spider webs at work this summer. I wonder who would represent Shelob there. The Marketing Department perhaps? I must remember to see if I can procure an elven blade through the Boise Cascade or Granger catalogs!