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The Robbit
In a hole in the ground, there lived a dwarf...
So begins the quest to recover the ancient mountain kingdom of Effindor from the savage dragon Smog! But why has the wizard Grendelf dragged along a useless hole-biter by the name of Rambo Cribbins, whose only claim to fame is his fondness for apple pie and a life of decadent indolence? And why does the secret entrance into the mountain only open at sunset on one day a year?
In this parody and satire of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, we learn the answers to these questions and many others, such as: why do there appear to be no female dwarves? Why does everyone think Rambo has such hairy bare feet? How did Smog manage to catch a kingdom full of wily dwarves unawares? How common is spontaneous combustion as a cause of death? Who is the Fancyshmancer? Why is Brad Bowman so unhappy? And what reason would there be for building a city on a lake in the middle of nowhere?
So begins the quest to recover the ancient mountain kingdom of Effindor from the savage dragon Smog! But why has the wizard Grendelf dragged along a useless hole-biter by the name of Rambo Cribbins, whose only claim to fame is his fondness for apple pie and a life of decadent indolence? And why does the secret entrance into the mountain only open at sunset on one day a year?
In this parody and satire of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, we learn the answers to these questions and many others, such as: why do there appear to be no female dwarves? Why does everyone think Rambo has such hairy bare feet? How did Smog manage to catch a kingdom full of wily dwarves unawares? How common is spontaneous combustion as a cause of death? Who is the Fancyshmancer? Why is Brad Bowman so unhappy? And what reason would there be for building a city on a lake in the middle of nowhere?
- GenresFantasy
274 pages, Paperback
First published December 1, 2023
8 people are currently reading
703 people want to read
About the author
M. Jonathan Jones
7books34followersM. Jonathan Jones spends his time commuting between this world and many others inside his head. When not being chased across the dead red deserts by sentient machines, discovering hidden threats in the Deeps, or hunting frost giants across the Nine Realms, he enjoys avoiding other people. In this reality, he lives in England with his family. (profile pic is not actually me, but Mr Raccoon from "The Unlucky Day" in Richard Scarry's Funniest Storybook Ever. The likeness is, however, uncanny).
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October 12, 2024This is what The BookLife Prize 2024 made of :
“fun and creative� consistently engaging� a sharp and inventive Tolkien parody—and an entertaining story to boot.�
“The gently amusing tale may take inspiration from The Hobbit, but Jones crafts his own unique story.�
“Jones's text is funny, lyrical, and poetic, benefitting from meticulous attention to detail and sharp characterization.�
“fun and creative� consistently engaging� a sharp and inventive Tolkien parody—and an entertaining story to boot.�
“The gently amusing tale may take inspiration from The Hobbit, but Jones crafts his own unique story.�
“Jones's text is funny, lyrical, and poetic, benefitting from meticulous attention to detail and sharp characterization.�
February 23, 2025
The Hobbit, as directed by Terry Gilliam.
Welcome to the quietest corner of Muckle Earth, the Squirelands, where one fateful day the wizard Grendelf the Beige and seven irascible dwarves come knocking on a young holbit’s door.
What’s a holbit you may ask?
‘”…Small round eyes, and soft pink skin. They tend to be a little on the roly-poly side…�
“They sound like mole rats. Are you sure you don’t mean mole rats?�
“No, no, I assure you. Holbits are most distinct from mole rats. Well, not entirely distinct, admittedly…”�
And so begins an exciting adventure across the Murky Mountains and through the Great Forest, hunted by the Elvish King, the Fancyshmancer, and tormented by the vicious beardless little people � the blue smerves (The cute and cuddly exterior of these gambolling creatures belies fangs like razors, retractable claws, spitting venom, and acid for blood), all the way to the perilous Only Mountain, where dwells the evil dragon Smog the Malevolent.
But how can Thorny Brokenshield and his brave warriors kill the wyrm and reclaim their birth right, when the dragon’s existence is the livelihood of the many giftshops of Taxhavn? All is not lost - the seven dwarves can create a distraction with their variety show, while Rambo Cribbins sneaks into Smog’s lair, where Smog is (probably) asleep.
Mr. Jones clearly has a love of the Hobbit, making for a highly diverting read as well as pressing Tolkien nostalgia buttons. The writing is a joy:
‘The Great Forest was different. There was a savagery to it, everything choking, strangling, clutching, clawing; not reaching for the light as in a normal forest, but twiggy fingers trying to poke out the eye of the sun. This was trees behaving badly, slovenly and unruly.�
There is also some lovely original invention. Dwarves eat rocks, but gold for them is like a highly addictive drug. And as for their language:
‘Rambo was surprised to discover that dwarvish, far from being the guttural brogue he had imagined, full of vowels as dull as hammer blows and consonants like rock splitting, was actually very melodious. More melodious, he almost had to admit, than elvish: dwarvish sounded like singing in rich ringing tones.
“We’d be in a fine pickle if the dwarvish tongue was like iron striking stone or a roof-fall,� Thorny explained to him when he voiced his surprise. “That’s all the every-day noise you hear down in the mines! We’d be thinking we were talking about what to have for dinner, and find
out we’d been having a conversation with a cave-in!”�
I’m holding out for more. Could it be the dark lord Mogadon is manipulating things behind the scenes, and the ring that Rambo Cribbins found will drag the little holbit back into the adventuring life? Or a prequel, recounting the legendary life of Durasel the Long-Lasting? Either way, this is one I didn’t want to end.
Welcome to the quietest corner of Muckle Earth, the Squirelands, where one fateful day the wizard Grendelf the Beige and seven irascible dwarves come knocking on a young holbit’s door.
What’s a holbit you may ask?
‘”…Small round eyes, and soft pink skin. They tend to be a little on the roly-poly side…�
“They sound like mole rats. Are you sure you don’t mean mole rats?�
“No, no, I assure you. Holbits are most distinct from mole rats. Well, not entirely distinct, admittedly…”�
And so begins an exciting adventure across the Murky Mountains and through the Great Forest, hunted by the Elvish King, the Fancyshmancer, and tormented by the vicious beardless little people � the blue smerves (The cute and cuddly exterior of these gambolling creatures belies fangs like razors, retractable claws, spitting venom, and acid for blood), all the way to the perilous Only Mountain, where dwells the evil dragon Smog the Malevolent.
But how can Thorny Brokenshield and his brave warriors kill the wyrm and reclaim their birth right, when the dragon’s existence is the livelihood of the many giftshops of Taxhavn? All is not lost - the seven dwarves can create a distraction with their variety show, while Rambo Cribbins sneaks into Smog’s lair, where Smog is (probably) asleep.
Mr. Jones clearly has a love of the Hobbit, making for a highly diverting read as well as pressing Tolkien nostalgia buttons. The writing is a joy:
‘The Great Forest was different. There was a savagery to it, everything choking, strangling, clutching, clawing; not reaching for the light as in a normal forest, but twiggy fingers trying to poke out the eye of the sun. This was trees behaving badly, slovenly and unruly.�
There is also some lovely original invention. Dwarves eat rocks, but gold for them is like a highly addictive drug. And as for their language:
‘Rambo was surprised to discover that dwarvish, far from being the guttural brogue he had imagined, full of vowels as dull as hammer blows and consonants like rock splitting, was actually very melodious. More melodious, he almost had to admit, than elvish: dwarvish sounded like singing in rich ringing tones.
“We’d be in a fine pickle if the dwarvish tongue was like iron striking stone or a roof-fall,� Thorny explained to him when he voiced his surprise. “That’s all the every-day noise you hear down in the mines! We’d be thinking we were talking about what to have for dinner, and find
out we’d been having a conversation with a cave-in!”�
I’m holding out for more. Could it be the dark lord Mogadon is manipulating things behind the scenes, and the ring that Rambo Cribbins found will drag the little holbit back into the adventuring life? Or a prequel, recounting the legendary life of Durasel the Long-Lasting? Either way, this is one I didn’t want to end.
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