Quick note -- it is not to late to join us! If you're feeling like, "Man, they are eight chapters in and I will never catch up, I should just not try," please take heart. We're less than 145 pages in -- you can knock that out in a weekend.
But on to this chapter....
Bleah, this is another of the chapters I dislike. It's really creepy and meandering. Doesn't make me fall asleep, at least! But all that stuff about the fog and the echoing voices, and then the crawling hand of the barrow wight -- yuck! Good for reading around Halloween, I suppose, but I'm glad the majority of the book is not like this.
The mist was flowing past him now in shreds and tatters (p. 136).
The night was railing against the morning of which it was bereaved, and the cold was cursing the warmth for which it hungered (p. 137).
"Few now remember them," Tom murmured, "yet still some go wandering, sons of forgotten kings walking in loneliness, guarding from evil things folk that are heedless" (p. 142).
Possible Discussion Questions:
Why didn't Tom Bombadil escort the hobbits to the road in the first place? They clearly got into trouble out in the forest on their own before.