#barrowdowns

Boundaries mean safety. A wall. A shield. A home. Tom Bombadil’s house is one such boundary. “Let us shut out the night!” Goldberry says, “For you are still afraid, perhaps, of mist and tree-shadows and deep water, and untame things. Fear nothing! For tonight you are under the roof of Tom Bambadil” (123). People need boundaries to feel safe. It follows, then, that when dealing with things they can’t control, people often create boundaries. 

When it comes to death and the supernatural phenomenoa associated with it, humans and middle-earth folk often play the part of respectful, but cautious actors. The Barrows are kept in a separate place. Tolkien depicts “the great stones standing like a gate” (146). A division exists between the living and the dead. And for good reason. The supernatural Barrow-wights present a real danger which echoes the medical danger of disease from rotting corpses. There are many good reasons to keep burial places separated from everyday life. 

In our world we have graveyards, which are often portrayed as haunted. In Tolkien’s world, it is the Barrow-wights. Wayland Smithy, one possible inspiration for Tolkien, was reputedly home to an invisible smith that aided travelers in trouble. There is a clear connection between places of death and the presence of supernatural beings, and thus a clear division is made to protect the living, and allow them to feel some semblance of control over such an unflinching reality.