La publication de l'ouvrage a été retardée de quelques mois, car il semble que le typographe ait égaré les caractères ð et þ nécessaires à la composition, qui doit elle-même être entièrement refaite puisque les réviseurs ont eu la maladresse de remplacer chaque occurence de 'dwarves' par 'dwarfs', 'elvish' par 'elfish', 'púkel-men' par 'pokémon', etc.
Je suis un des rares privilégiés à avoir eu le loisir de consulter ce recueil. Christopher, las du Midi et de cette "horrible cuisine française" (cf. Letters), a en effet émigré vers le Québec. "Je pensé avoir trouvé en France une endroit où on me ficherait le paix, m'a-t-il confié, mais il a l'air qu'une nouvelle engouement française est né; j'ai reçu plusieurs visits d'un homme qui se prenait pour un Ent et qui cherchait désespérément les Épouses Ents", soupire-t-il. Il s'est fait de mes amis intimes pour me vendre ses manuscrits à des prix exorbitants, sachant que je ne lui refuserais rien. Ainsi j'en cite des extraits à qui veut bien l'entendre, et j'ai réservé le passage le plus savoureux pour l'élite, la crème de la crème, JRRVF. Encore une fois, le commentaire de Christopher s'avère un indispensable guide contextuel:
"Scribbled at furious speed on the reverse of an old unfolded box of disposable pipe-cleaners, the writing of this text is partly indecipherable due to a most irksome stain of grenadine syrup in the upper-left corner. The page has also been largely devoured by the termites of Marquette University, Milwaukee, towards which I am largely in debt for sending photocopies.
The dating of this text is an inextricable pandemonium of dodgy deductions and plain wild guesses. The pinkish colour of the ink suggests that this was written during my father's 'pink period', which closely followed his 'blue period' (1965-66), and so I would tend to assume, most scrupulously and certainly not without any fear of regretting it later, that it was composed in late 1967, shortly before my father dismissed pink altogether as 'too fairyish' (cf. JRR Tolkien's Hitherto Unpublished Letters, HarperCollins Publishers).
Here my father appears to be grappling a new Tale, which tells of the Great Battle to take place before the Great End; unfortunately, the narrative peters out before long. The text is written over an older version jotted down in pencil which was carefeully erased but can be deciphered on a rather worn carbon paper preserved at Leeds (see note 323). I give here the latest version; all further emendations are given in the few Notes.
"As Legolas surveyed the plain where the dark armies of Morgoth now swarmed undefied, a voice rose, clear and bright, in the pale twilight: 'Lo! derry dol, ring a dong dillo!', and the Orcs cowered in fear. Thus came Tom Bombadil in urgent need, and he wore yellow boots, and at his side came his wife [Struck out: Yavanna] Goldberry. And Legolas entranced spread forth his vast elvish wings and flew high above the plain, filling the Orcs with wonder. And waiting at the rearguard the host of Balrogs was dismayed, for they too had long wished to fly. And lo! the voice rose anew, similar and yet deeper, and it said booming: "I am Eru Ilúvatar. I shall now utter the Doom of Men:"
Here my father stops abruptly. In the margin is scribbled the following: "My kingdom for a drop of Jack Daniels." "
Je suis sûr que vous en bavez déjà.
Vive Tolkien et longue vie à JRRVF!
greenleaf