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It is So interesting for me to listen to authors doing voices/impressions of their own characters. I'm happy that I found it, Gollum is my fave LOTR character and I have been wondering for years what does his voice sound like.

This passage, and the part where Sam gives Frodo a piggy-back while climbing Mount Doom, reminds me of the song, ‘Death Shall Not Destroy My Comfort’, but in much more subtle ways! And I get teary-eyed whenever I listen to all of them!

I love Elvish

“They sang as they slew”

Gollum is a Hobbit himself

Our crazy friend Tom Bombadil.

In print, I always read Sméagol as SMEY-a-gol, and didn’t understand how it had come to be rendered as SMEE-gle in the LOTR films. Now that I hear Tolkien’s pronunciation, I know. But why then the accent on the E?

This is incredible

This is magical and delves straight into my soul. The movies couldn't touch the energy this man flung onto paper. Oh, to be in this world, if only for a brief time! 🥂

Ol' one-take Johnny over here couldn't be bothered to start over after he fucked up with "son of Boromir". What a shame. Though with AI voices the way they are nowadays, I'm sure some nerd will make a corrected version.

aww I feel a nostalgia moment ... mmm kool xx I Believe in Faeries xx

"The trees quivered and bent as if a gust had struck them." Mastery of the written word.

A meandering 14th coming 6 years into the meeting.

If this dosnt bring tears to your eyes well then you have no heart. Forth and fear no darkness. Arise arise riders of Theoden!

Neldoreth. Proper stress on the first syllable is there. He did not disappoint.

13th, unlucky.. we need a hobbit

What a treasure to hear Tolkien himself voicing his characters.

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing, the swords shining in the South-kingdom, Steeds went striding to the Stoningland as wind in the morning. War was kindled. There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty, to his golden halls and green pastures in the Northern fields never returning, high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf, Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold, Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred, fought and fell there in a far country: in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor. Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea, nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales ever, to Arnach, to his own country returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen, Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters, meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows. Death in the morning and at day's ending lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep under grass in Gondor by the Great River Grey now as tears, gleaming silver, red then it rolled, roaring water: foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset; as beacons mountains burned at evening; red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

‘This, lord: they were errand-riders of Gondor; Hirgon was one maybe. At least his hand still clasped the Red Arrow, but his head was hewn off. And this also: it would seem by the signsthatthey were fleeing westward when they fell. As I read it, they found the enemy already on the out-wall, or assailing it, when they returned - and that would be two nights ago, if they used fresh horsesfrom the posts, asistheir wont. They could not reach the City and turned back.’ ‘Alas!’ said The´oden. ‘Then Denethor has heard no news of our riding and will despair of our coming.’ ‘Need brooks no delay, yet late is better than never,’ said Eomer. ´ ‘And mayhap in this time shall the old saw be proved truer than ever before since men spoke with mouth.’ It was night. On either side of the road the host of Rohan was moving silently. Now the road passing about the skirts of Mindolluin turned southward. Far away and almost straight ahead there was a red glow under the black sky and the sides of the great mountain loomed dark against it. They were drawing near the Rammas of the Pelennor; but the day was not yet come. The king rode in the midst of the leading company, his householdmen about him. Elfhelm’s e´ored came next; and now Merry noticed that Dernhelm had left his place and in the darkness was moving steadily forward, until at last he was riding just in rear of the king’s guard. There came a check. Merry heard voices in front speaking softly. Out-riders had come back who had ventured forward almost to the wall. They came to the king. ‘There are great fires, lord,’ said one. ‘The City is all set about with flame, and the field is full of foes. But all seem drawn off to the assault. As well as we could guess, there are few left upon the out-wall, and they are heedless, busy in destruction.’ ‘Do you remember the Wild Man’s words, lord?’ said another. ‘I live upon the open Wold in days of peace; Wı´dfara is my name, and to me also the air brings messages. Already the wind is turning. There comes a breath out of the South; there is a sea-tang in it, faint though it be. The morning will bring new things. Above the reek it will be dawn when you pass the wall.’ ‘If you speak truly, Wı´dfara, then may you live beyond this day in years of blessedness!’ said The´oden. He turned to the men of his household who were near, and he spoke now in a clear voice so that many also of the riders of the first e´ored heard him: ‘Now is the hour come, Riders of the Mark, sons of Eorl! Foes and fire are before you, and your homes far behind. Yet, though you fight upon an alien field, the glory that you reap there shall be your own for ever. Oaths ye have taken: now fulfil them all, to lord and land and league of friendship!’ Men clashed spear upon shield. ‘Eomer, my son! You lead the first e´ored,’ said The´oden; ‘and it ´ shall go behind the king’s banner in the centre. Elfhelm, lead your company to the right when we pass the wall. And Grimbold shall lead his towards the left. Let the other companies behind follow these three that lead, as they have chance. Strike wherever the enemy gathers. Other plans we cannot make, for we know not yet how things stand upon the field. Forth now, and fear no darkness!’ The leading company rode off as swiftly as they could, for it was still deep dark, whatever change Wı´dfara might forebode. Merry was riding behind Dernhelm, clutching with the left hand while with the felt now bitterly the truth of the old king’s words: in such a battle what would you do, Meriadoc? Just this,’ he thought: ‘encumber a rider, and hope at best to stay in my seat and not be pounded to death by galloping hoofs!’ It was no more than a league to where the out-walls had stood. They soon reached them; too soon for Merry. Wild cries broke out, and there was some clash of arms, but it was brief. The orcs busy about the walls were few and amazed, and they were quickly slain or driven off. Before the ruin of the north-gate in the Rammas the king halted again. The first e´ored drew up behind him and about him on either side. Dernhelm kept close to the king, though Elfhelm’s company was away on the right. Grimbold’s men turned aside and passed round to a great gap in the wall further eastward. Merry peered from behind Dernhelm’s back. Far away, maybe ten miles or more, there was a great burning, but between it and the Riders lines of fire blazed in a vast crescent, at the nearest point less than a league distant. He could make out little more on the dark plain, and as yet he neither saw any hope of morning, nor felt any wind, changed or unchanged. Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor, pouring in slowly but steadily, like the rising tide through breaches in a dike that men have thought secure. But the mind and will of the Black Captain were bent wholly on the falling city, and as yet no tidings came to him warning that his designs held any flaw. After a while the king led his men away somewhat eastward, to come between the fires of the siege and the outer fields. Still they were unchallenged, and still The´oden gave no signal. At last he halted once again. The City was now nearer. A smell of burning was in the air and a very shadow of death. The horses were uneasy. But the king sat upon Snowmane, motionless, gazing upon the agony of Minas Tirith, as if stricken suddenly by anguish, or by dread. He seemed to shrink down, cowed by age. Merry himself felt as if a great weight of horror and doubt had settled on him. His heart beat slowly. Time seemed poised in uncertainty. They were too late! Too late was worse than never! Perhaps The´oden would quail, bow his old head, turn, slink away to hide in the hills. Then suddenly Merry felt it at last, beyond doubt: a change. Wind was in his face! Light was glimmering. Far, far away, in the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes, rolling up, drifting: morning lay beyond them. But at that same moment there was a flash, as if lightning had sprung from the earth beneath the City. For a searing second it stood dazzling far off in black and white, its topmost tower like a glittering needle; and then as the darkness closed again there came rolling over the fields a great boom. At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again; and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before: Arise, arise, Riders of The´oden! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor! With that he seized a great horn from Guthla´f his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains. Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor! Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before ´ them. Eomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first e´ored roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but The´oden could not be overtaken. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as Orome¨ the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young. His golden shield was uncovered, and lo! it shone like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City.

There at the bend it was cut deep through a crag of old weathered stone once long ago vomited from the Mountain’s furnaces. Panting under his load Sam turned the bend; and even as he did so, out of the corner of his eye, he had a glimpse of something falling from the crag, like a small piece of black stone that had toppled off as he passed. A sudden weight smote him and he crashed forward, tearing the backs of his hands that still clasped his master’s. Then he knew what had happened, for above him as he lay he heard a hated voice. ‘Wicked masster!’ it hissed. ‘Wicked masster cheats us; cheats Sme´agol, gollum. He musstn’t go that way. He musstn’t hurt Preciouss. Give it to Sme´agol, yess, give it to us! Give it to uss!’ With a violent heave Sam rose up. At once he drew his sword; but he could do nothing. Gollum and Frodo were locked together. Gollum was tearing at his master, trying to get at the chain and the Ring. This was probably the only thing that could have roused the dying embers of Frodo’s heart and will: an attack, an attempt to wrest his treasure from him by force. He fought back with a sudden fury that amazed Sam, and Gollum also. Even so things might have gone far otherwise, if Gollum himself had remained unchanged; but whatever dreadful paths, lonely and hungry and waterless, he had trodden, driven by a devouring desire and a terrible fear, they had left grievous marks on him. He was a lean, starved, haggard thing, all bones and tight-drawn sallow skin. A wild light flamed in his eyes, but his malice was no longer matched by his old griping strength. Frodo flung him off and rose up quivering. ‘Down, down!’ he gasped, clutching his hand to his breast, so that beneath the cover of his leather shirt he clasped the Ring. ‘Down, you creeping thing, and out of my path! Your time is at an end. You cannot betray me or slay me now.’ Then suddenly, as before under the eaves of the Emyn Muil, Sam saw these two rivals with other vision. A crouching shape, scarcely more than the shadow of a living thing, a creature now wholly ruined and defeated, yet filled with a hideous lust and rage; and before it stood stern, untouchable now by pity, a figure robed in white, but at its breast it held a wheel of fire. Out of the fire there spoke a commanding voice. ‘Begone, and trouble me no more! If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.’ The crouching shape backed away, terror in its blinking eyes, and yet at the same time insatiable desire. Then the vision passed and Sam saw Frodo standing, hand on breast, his breath coming in great gasps, and Gollum at his feet, resting on his knees with his wide-splayed hands upon the ground. ‘Look out!’ cried Sam. ‘He’ll spring!’ He stepped forward, brandishing his sword. ‘Quick, Master!’ he gasped. ‘Go on! Go on! No time to lose. I’ll deal with him. Go on!’ Frodo looked at him as if at one now far away. ‘Yes, I must go on,’ he said. ‘Farewell, Sam! This is the end at last. On Mount Doom doom shall fall. Farewell!’ He turned and went on, walking slowly but erect, up the climbing path. ‘Now!’ said Sam. ‘At last I can deal with you!’ He leaped forward with drawn blade ready for battle. But Gollum did not spring. He fell flat upon the ground and whimpered. ‘Don’t kill us,’ he wept. ‘Don’t hurt us with nassty cruel steel! Let us live, yes, live just a little longer. Lost lost! We’re lost. And when Precious goes we’ll die, yes, die into the dust.’ He clawed up the ashes of the path with his long fleshless fingers. ‘Dusst!’ he hissed. Sam’s hand wavered. His mind was hot with wrath and the memory of evil. It would be just to slay this treacherous, murderous creature, just and many times deserved; and also it seemed the only safe thing to do. But deep in his heart there was something that restrained him: he could not strike this thing lying in the dust, forlorn, ruinous, utterly wretched. He himself, though only for a little while, had borne the Ring, and now dimly he guessed the agony of Gollum’s shrivelled mind and body, enslaved to that Ring, unable to find peace or relief ever in life again. But Sam had no words to express what he felt. ‘Oh, curse you, you stinking thing!’ he said. ‘Go away! Be off! I don’t trust you, not as far as I could kick you; but be off. Or I shall hurt you, yes, with nasty cruel steel.’ Gollum got up on all fours, and backed away for several paces, and then he turned, and as Sam aimed a kick at him he fled away down the path. Sam gave no more heed to him. He suddenly remembered his master. He looked up the path and could not see him. As fast as he could he trudged up the road. If he had looked back, he might have seen not far below Gollum turn again, and then with a wild light of madness glaring in his eyes come, swiftly but warily, creeping on behind, a slinking shadow among the stones. The path climbed on. Soon it bent again and with a last eastward course passed in a cutting along the face of the cone and came to the dark door in the Mountain’s side, the door of the Sammath Naur. Far away now rising towards the South the sun, piercing the smokes and haze, burned ominous, a dull bleared disc of red; but all Mordor lay about the Mountain like a dead land, silent, shadow-folded, waiting for some dreadful stroke. Sam came to the gaping mouth and peered in. It was dark and hot, and a deep rumbling shook the air. ‘Frodo! Master!’ he called. There was no answer. For a moment he stood, his heart beating with wild fears, and then he plunged in. A shadow followed him. At first he could see nothing. In his great need he drew out once more the phial of Galadriel, but it was pale and cold in his trembling hand and threw no light into that stifling dark. He was come to the heart of the realm of Sauron and the forges of his ancient might, greatest in Middle-earth; all other powers were here subdued.

I am so glad this exists! Now I know where the stress falls in Gil-Galad! I did not know if I had to treat it as one word (Gíl-galad) or as two words (Gil-Gálad).

BMark 3:15

55 He who has in himself abundantly the attributes (of the Tao) is like an infant. Poisonous insects will not sting him; fierce beasts will not seize him; birds of prey will not strike him. (The infant's) bones are weak and its sinews soft, but yet its grasp is firm. It knows not yet the union of male and female, and yet its virile member may be excited;--showing the perfection of its physical essence. All day long it will cry without its throat becoming hoarse;--showing the harmony (in its constitution). To him by whom this harmony is known, (The secret of) the unchanging (Tao) is shown, And in the knowledge wisdom finds its throne. All life-increasing arts to evil turn; Where the mind makes the vital breath to burn, (False) is the strength, (and o'er it we should mourn.) When things have become strong, they (then) become old, which may be said to be contrary to the Tao. Whatever is contrary to the Tao soon ends.

Lovely to hear the professor read, but this must be an early version of the song, as it's not the one in FOTR.

A man who's works shine among all others J.r.r tolkien is a great author the world has ever seen

This was the first work of Tolkien I ever read and was instantly enchanted. What struck me most was the passage of time. It spoke of great ages long lost. He has since been my literary hero for many years. His voice and words still ring through time

The only part I think rivals this is when Aragorn arrives in the ships and unfurls the banner of Elendil. Oooof.

Which year was this btw?

I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.

One nice thing about having substantial recordings of JRRT reading from his works is that after listening to them a lot, one can kind of internalize his voice, and when reading to one's self, 'hear' it in one's head the way JRRT might have read it.

Immense and perfect, god-like I say, like anything Tolkien created. Love the pronunciation of Rammas Echor, too.

Im going to be doing a rendition of this as the first video on my channel. Hopefully the ember that starts a wildfire.

Tolkien’s Gollum voice is prefect…just like the rest of gia works

The best thing I’ve ever heard 😍

I'm certain he was gathered up to the Halls of Mandos and dwells there even now, tall and fair and spirit unbroken.

See, hear, and be aware. Why? Why.

It actually sends shivers down your spine. These stories don't read like fantasy, instead they read like historic sage's wrote in poetic form. It's eerie. It feels like we're reading about hisotric events from 100,000 years ago.

Patriotic for a place that aint even real rn

My favourite chapter in LOTR!

Huh huh huh... he said "boner". Huh huh huh huh.

Tolkien is canonically the god of literature, poetry, rhyming, language-creation, imagination, description and anything else falling in that field. Ent’s song / poetry is a meager but immense example of his Skill.

i love this poem very, very much

He put some genuine creepiness into this at the end.

<./Əvail_00> Johann Wolfgang Goethe

My god I got such intense chills from 6:40 on. Just an incredible scene...

"Ride now! Ride now! Ride to Gondor! " And bannerman blowing a horn so strongly it splintered...

Is it true that this poem was first published in a magazine in 1934?

Rest in peace, dear professor

What's this about being an offering for trespass? Dirty pack of liars. I SAY what an offering is! Clean this up, 'The Professor Tolkien Reads.' Fucking disgrace.

This is different than the song in the fellowship, anyone know if this was an old version or is he going off of memory?