This is not a heart attack, just the pattering heart of a gentlehobbit encountering the unknown.
- 05.007 and his heart all of a patter
This is not a heart attack, just the pattering heart of a gentlehobbit encountering the unknown.
What a scene! Giant spiders, Thorin & Company captive, but Tolkien writes it for physical humour:
[08.089] To the fattest of these bundles the spider went – ‘It is poor old Bombur, I’ll bet,’ thought Bilbo – and nipped hard at the nose that stuck out. There was a muffled yelp inside, and a toe shot up and kicked the spider straight and hard. There was life in Bombur still. There was a noise like the kicking of a flabby football, and the enraged spider fell off the branch, only catching itself with its own thread just in time.
Once again, a peaceful word. Tonight while I sleep, I’ll reconsider whether every word-play word needs to be “low” or “high” (or both). I suspect not. You’ll hear more about how I work with this idea in a later method post, Word Fans. For now, I will continue as I have been doing.
Well, is it low or high? “Hush” is calming, but it’s also a word of caution. I like that it’s missing from Chapter 8 through 18. I’m going to label it “low”, but that does not satisfy: what I mean is that it’s a peaceful word for use in the Shire and among elves except when warning others not to notice a certain giant bear.
Trust Gloin to say exactly what he means.
Shivers down our spines? High-register word!
Owls, dwarves, and the goblins of Chapter 5 do it!
Etymologically we learn that this word could represent a hum or a throat-clearing noise. While elves are high, smelling them is as prosaic as it gets.
“h’m | hm, int.” OED Online. Oxford University Press, March 2015. Web. 27 May 2015.
Like the visages of the gargoyles, gurgling frightens us!
Not only is a guffaw a kind of laugh, OED affirms that it is formed echoically from the sound of the laugh it names. Only giants do it in our work.
“guffaw, v.” OED Online. Oxford University Press, March 2015. Web. 27 May 2015.