Tolkien Oxford'da ders veren tarih profesörü idi. 1. Dünya Savaşına katıldı. Yıllar boyunca yazdı. Peki Tolkien günümüzde yaşayan ve işsiz kalmış bir bankacı olsaydı. ne olurdu? (Banakcı mı dedin? Pek tanıdık geldi :) ) Paul A. Erickson bunu üzerine Wobbit'i yazmış.
Wobbit'te başarısız Bulbo tam 13 adet bankere katılıyor. Tabi ki bu bankerler cüce. Amaçları mevduatlarını ve mudilerini çalan kötü ejderhayı alt etmek. Yanlarında ise kötü şöhretli Dangalf var. Hep beraber maceraya atılıyorlar. Bulbo bu macera sırasında geniş bir perspektiften bakma ve kalıpların dışına çıkma yeteneğini geliştirerek başarılı oluyor.
Erickson'un kitabı Türkiye'de Algan Sezgintüredi'nin çevirisi çıktı. Türkçesini de İngilizcesini de edinmeniz mümkün. Aşağıda Bulbo'nun Gol-Gol ile giriştiği bilmece oyunu var.
Part 6- The Riddle Game
(Pantsoff and the dwarves escape from the goblins, but the Buddy System fails them and Bulbo is left behind. While searching for a way out, Bulbo encounters the creature Gol-Gol, who enjoys riddle-games and really rare meat. Will Bulbo provide him with both?)
Gol-Gol was hungry, angry, and disappointed. But he tried to remain patient because it seemed that Bulbo was about to lose the game. He was having trouble coming up with another riddle.
“Come on, boy!” Gol-Gol said. “Don’t stand there gawking! Out with it!”
Bulbo held his knife before him, and with his other hand checked his pockets, hoping to find a larger, more dangerous weapon. All he found was the gold ring he had picked up in the tunnel. But had forgotten all about it, and didn’t even remember that it was there, or what it was. Reflexively, he asked aloud:
What have I got
In my pockets?
He was talking to himself, of course, but he got lucky once again. Gol-Gol thought Bulbo’s inadvertent remark was a riddle! Gol-Gol may have been confused by the italics and the line break.
“What’s the big idea!” said Gol-Gol, truly threatening despite his short, scrawny build. “That, I say, that ain’t no riddle! That’s more of a trivia question!”
But Bulbo realized his good luck and decided to stick with it.
“You mean there are rules for this?” he said. “Come on! Answer the riddle! What have I got in my pocketses, I mean, pockets?”
“Well, if you say so,” said Gol-Gol. “But gimme three guesses, then.”
“Sure, whatever,” said Bulbo. “Guess away.” He couldn’t believe Gol-Gol was okay with this.
Gol-Gol guessed all the things he kept in his pockets.
“Slime, or maybe a shopping list!”
“Both wrong,” said Bulbo, “and no double guesses. I win, and you have to show me to the nearest exit.”
“Of course, son, of course,” said Gol-Gol. “But first tell me, what have you got in your pockets?”
“Never you mind! Just take me to the exit.” For some reason, Bulbo knew he shouldn’t mention the simple ring that he found. For some other reason, Gol-Gol didn’t pursue the matter.
“Fine, son. Have it your way. But first,” said Gol-Gol, chuckling to himself loudly, “let me go back to my island. I forgot to close the windows.”
Bulbo rolled his eyes. “Okay, just hurry, will you?”
Gol-Gol paddled back to his island with his big flappy feet. There he kept a few slimy, wretched belongings: theater ticket stubs, old eyeglasses, forgotten business cards, breath mints, stray shirt buttons, foreign pennies, fish, and rocks. He also kept one very beautiful thing. A suspiciously simple golden ring—a precious ring.
“That boy wants my birthday present, but it’s mine, all mine!” Gol-Gol said, with a deep, maniacal chuckle. “My magic ring! As soon as I find it, I’ll slip it on my long, bony finger and I’ll be invisible, I say, invisible! And then, after a little sneaky strangling, it’ll be some tasty Wobbit Tartare for old Gol-Gol! I’m getting mighty tired of eating just fish and goblins. Now, where is that ring…”
Bulbo waited, tapping his foot, drumming his fingers, and looking around casually in the darkness. It was very dark without the light from Gol-Gol’s luminous eyes.
Suddenly, Bulbo head a screech. It was Gol-Gol, and he sounded really angry.
“Where, I say, where is it!” howled Gol-Gol. “Where in tarnation is my birthday present?”
“Your what?” Bulbo called back.
“Mind your own business, son. Where is it?”
“Look, I need to get going,” said Bulbo. “You never answered my last riddle, and you said you’d take me to an exit. And not eat me. Come on!”
Gol-Gol was silent for a moment.
“Say, son, that reminds me,” said Gol-Gol. “What’s the answer to your riddle? What have you got in your little old pockets?” Gol-Gol got back into his boat. He starting paddling from his island towards Bulbo.
“I don’t have time for this!” said Bulbo. “Let’s go!”
“Certainly, son, certainly.” Gol-Gol said as he paddled. “But first tell me, what have you got in those little old pockets?”
“Sure. Fine. I’ll tell you, but first you tell me what you’ve lost.” Bulbo was sure the lost item was either a fish or a rock, but he was starting, ever so slowly, to sense trouble.
“No. You tell me first.”
“No, you first.”
By this time, Gol-Gol had reached the edge of the lake. Bulbo didn’t like where the discussion was headed, so he suddenly turned around and ran for it.
From behind, Bulbo could hear the flap of Gol-Gol’s pursuing feet, his low, insane chuckle and the words “Just what have you got in those little old pockets?”
“What have I got in my pocketses?” Bulbo wondered as he panted and stumbled along in the dark, his knife still in his hand. He put his other hand in his pocket and the cold ring slipped on his finger. He ignored the swooning sensation that came over him, as well as the sound, probably imagined, of an evil, grating voice chanting in an alien language.
Gol-Gol’s crazy laugh sounded even closer. Bulbo turned and saw the huge glowing eyes. Then he stubbed his toe on a bucket of rocks. The rocks spilled, he tripped on them, and fell.