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| "BORED OF THE RINGS" written by Henry N. Beard and Douglas C. Kenney of The Harvard Lampoon. Published 1969 by Signet. Reviewed by Alyx J. Shaw |
| I admit it, I was born in the '60's. While that doesn't make me an antique, it does make me old enough to recall just how big "The Lord of the Rings" was when I was a kid, or "the first time around," as I like to call it. I remember the LOTR calendars by the brothers Tim & Greg Hildebrandt with their entrancing painting of Middle Earth, and how everyone I knew had one. I recall listening to albums by bands like Rush and Led Zepplin, and hearing tales of the Fellowship in songs like 'Battle of Evermore' and 'No Quarter.' I didn't have to work hard to imagine Middle Earth. I grew up in a tiny town, surrounded by hills and silver rivers. Lothlorien was a half hour walk away; small birch groves beside natural stone pools, always full of small fish. My best friend and I read The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings so many times we could recite passages at a whim. In fact, I'm wearing the One Ring as I write this. But this isn't about my childhood, or Led Zepplin, or the brothers Hildebrandt. It's about a little pocket book that came out thirteen years before Elijah Wood ever saw daylight. Sadly forgotten amidst the LOTR revival, but not by we fans of "the first time around", this is a review of the funniest parody I ever read - 'Bored of the Rings.' First printed in September of 1969, it's the kind of weighty tome you can only truly appreciate with amoeba lights and a joint while wearing your favorite day-glo polyester pants. Despite its overtly sixties feel, it's still one of the most hysterically funny books I've ever read. Of course, no good LOTR parody would be complete without an introductory chapter 'Concerning Boggies'. They are described as 'unattractive, but annoying….' As for the Boggies who occupy the burg known as the Sty, they are "…unusually drab, dressing in shiny grey suits with narrow lapels, alpine hats and string ties,' and '…have long, clever fingers of the sort one normally associates with hands that spend a good deal of time around the necks of small furry animals and in other peoples' pockets…' In other words, if they ever showed up in Middle Earth, Sauron would probably call a truce and help the Elves eradicate the little pests before continuing with business as usual. The opening chapter - "It's My Party and I'll Snub Who I Want To," introduces us to Frito and his faithful friend Spam, as well as a second-rate conjurer called Goodgulf Greyteeth. Having arrived from Minas Troney to celebrate a certain old Boggie's birthday, Goodgulf divines the true nature of the ring by the ancient writing upon the band; 'Grundig blaupunk tluger frug, Watusi snarf wazoo! Nixon dirksen nasahist, Rebozo boogaloo.' Frito's Uncle Dildo, upon discovering the true identity of his ring, promptly unloads the thing on his nephew and lights out as fast as his hairy feet will take him to Riv'n'dell. On the advice of Goodgulf, Frito and Spam set out for the village of Whee. Accompanying him are his cousins Moxie and Pepsi, described as two tail-wagging idiots that no one in town could trust with a burnt-out match. Along the way they encounter Tom Bombadil's seldom-mentioned cousin Tim Benzedrine, who very kindly provides Frito with some "magic candy beans". These are later used on some unsuspecting gate guards in order to avoid paying the toll to get into Whee. Finally reaching 'Goode Eats and Lodging,' our heroes grab a table, order four Bow-wow burgers and some orca-colas. And right on cue, they meet up with Stomper. I have to say any similarities between wise, patient and loyal Aragorn and this other guy is purely accidental. Clad in a white cowboy outfit, mask, spurs, and cowboy hat (he is a ranger after all) he fends off an attack of pig-mounted Swine Riders with an astoundingly inept display of swordsmanship. Ending up flat on his face with his sword imbedded in a cement pig, the Boggies ventilate the Riders themselves as they lie on the ground, laughing uproariously at Stomper. Eventually the bunch of them end up at Riv'n'dell, the home of Orlon the Elf. Here is the part I consider to be the funniest in the whole book; The Council. Besides meeting Legolam the Elf and Gimlet the Dwarf, the Bogeys also meet Bromosel of Twodor, who has come to ask the meaning of a riddle he heard in a dream. ("Five-eleven's your height, one-ninety your weight. You cash in your chips around page eighty-eight.") At the council it is learned that Stomper is really Arrowroot, son of Arrowshirt, true King of Twodor. It is also decided that Frito should be the one to take the Ring to Fordor and destroy it. Frito groaned. "I wish I had never been born," he said. "Do not say that, dear Frito," cried Orlon, "It was a happy minute for us all when you were born." But of course, he can not go alone, he must have companions….. Following this is one of the most spectacular scenes of back-stabbing and buck-passing Middle Earth never saw. "Good old Gimlet will go with you," said Legolam. "And fearless Legolam," said Gimlet. "And noble King Arrowroot," said Bromosel. "And faithful Bromosel," said Arrowroot. "And Moxie, Pepsi, and Spam," said Dildo. "And Goodgulf Greyteeth," said Orlon…. Thus the Fellowship (and in this case the term is used loosely) set out for the black land of Fordor, often making journeys of up to a hundred yards before collapsing with apathy. Of course, no good parody would be complete without somebody at some point breaking into song. Somewhere in Riv'n'dell we are treated to this haunting Elven classic; 'Row, row, row your elebethiel saliva githiel Mann a fubar lothario syzygy snafu O bring back my sucaryl Penna Ariz Fla Mass.' Brings tears to your eyes, don't it? The true humor of the book, I always thought, was the timelessness of human nature. Tolkien never mentioned the parts of this epic journey where the Fellowship got lost, got fed up, or had to turn around and march back an extra three miles because they had forgotten something. But we know it happened, because such things are part of life. In 'Bored of the Rings', they not only happen, but the characters are more than happy to rib each other about it. They are the dark side of the Fellowship, those unwritten moments when Aragorn silently wondered if anyone would care if he tossed Pippin over a cliff. It's a more human perspective, where they take the quest, but they're darn well going to bitch about it. I originally wrote this review believing BOTR was out of print, and out of a sense of nostalgia. As the authors so aptly put it; 'as a dog might upon recalling a long-forgotten spew.' But I'm glad to say it is once more making itself known, especially since my copy has been lurking around since about 1972 and I'm now afraid to open it. As I said, some of the humor is very dated. However, if you have no idea what a Dristan Nasograph is, it's still funny. If you do remember, it's down right hysterical. |
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| "This Ring, no other, is made by the elves, Who'd pawn their own mother to grab it themselves. Ruler of creeper, mortal, and scallop, This is a sleeper that packs quite a wallop. The Power almighty rests in this Lone Ring. The Power, alrighty, for doing your Own Thing. If broken or busted, it cannot be remade. If found, send to Sorhed (the postage is prepaid)." |
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