1. That Tolkien published The Hobbit in the 1930s, but then did not start his sequel until (magically, since he'd be dead by now) 2017?
   
   
2. Or are we supposing that he published LotR in the 1950s, but was (again magically) driven to rewrite it as a kind of fully revised edition in 2017?
   
   
3. In the 2017 of our professor's picking up the pen (so to speak) is he living in a world where medieval-themed fantasy epics are as rare as they were in 1939, since without LotR to launch the industry it's been all science fiction, all the time?
   
   
4. Or did some other author or authors launch the genre back in the 1950s and 60s from their own imaginations (since there was no LotR in existence) and Tolkien must now in 2017 decide whether he wishes to write in an existing genre with whose premises he may or may not agree?
   
   
5. Should we speculate that he is not just revising his 1950s version, but is revising it in full awareness of the massive merchandising and film universes that his inadvertent sale of the rights back in the 1960s has since fueled?
   
   
6. As he begins this new book, has he in the meantime completed The Silmarillion as a coherent set of narratives?
   
   
7. Has he published The Silmarillion, based on his success as the author of the famous Hobbit?
   
   
8. And how did it do? Has there been, instead of a massive LotR film and merchandise franchise, an immense Silmarillion output instead, and his attempt at this point to write a 'new Hobbit' is to be thought of as his reaction to all that?

“It is perhaps not possible in a long tale to please everybody at all points, nor to displease everybody at the same points; for I find from the letters that I have received that the passages or chapters that are to some a blemish are all by others specially approved. ”

When he saw Strider, he dismounted and ran to meet him calling out: “Ai na vedui Dúnadan! Mae govannen!” His speech and clear ringing voice left no doubt in their hearts: the rider was of the Elven-folk. No others that dwelt in the wide world had voices so fair to hear. But there seemed to be a note of haste or fear in his call, and they saw that he was now speaking quickly and urgently to Strider.
Soon Strider beckoned to them, and the hobbits left the bushes and hurried down to the Road. ‘This is Glorfindel, who dwells in the house of Elrond,’ said Strider.
‘Greetings, my lady,’ said Frodo, bowing low. Sam was agape at the shining beauty of the fair Elven rider.
Strider corrected them, ‘Nay, Rivendell is not so bereft of its lordly strength yet. Elven-women do not ride abroad to seek out perils, not even those daughters of Luthien the fair and brave who yet grace the house of Elrond.”
Frodo was abashed. ‘Your pardon, my lord,’ he said, but Glorfindel merely smiled.
‘Hail, and well met at last!’ said the Elf-lord to Frodo. ‘I was sent from Rivendell to look for you. We feared that you were in danger upon the road.’ – LotR I.12 (3rd ed.)

‘ “That may not prove to be one of the lighter matters,” said I. He laughed at me, for my words were empty, and he knew it.
‘They took me and they set me alone on the pinnacle of Orthanc, in the place where Saruman was accustomed to watch the stars. There was no struggle – I could not have overcome him in his stronghold and so I did not foolishly choose a path of pain. There is no descent save by a narrow stair of many thousand steps, and the valley below seems far away.’ – LotR II.2 (3rd ed.)

His enemy halted again, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings of cloud–dark and fearsome but shadow only, thin and churning like a gathering storm. It raised the whip, and the thongs whined and cracked. Fire came from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm.
‘You cannot pass,’ he said. The orcs stood still, and a dead silence fell. ‘I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.’
The Balrog made no answer. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. It stepped forward slowly on to the bridge, and suddenly it drew itself up to a great height, and the shadowy sable clouds that seemed like wings were spread from wall to wall, filled with a crackling power like lightning but without weight, lacking sinew or web; but still Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom; he seemed small, and altogether alone: grey and bent, like a wizened tree before the onset of a storm.
…
With a terrible cry the Balrog fell forward, and its shadow plunged down and vanished, mocked by those nightmarish shades that were never wings and could avail it nought in its fall. But even as it fell it swung its whip, and the thongs lashed and curled about the wizard’s knees, dragging him to the brink. He staggered and fell, grasped vainly at the stone, and slid into the abyss. ‘Fly, you fools, for it cannot, nor I!’ he cried, and was gone. – LotR II.5 (3rd ed.)

‘It is a gift that I bring you from the Lady of Rivendell,’ answered Halbarad. ‘She wrought it in secret, and long was the making. But she also sends word to you: "The days now are short. Either our hope cometh, or all hopes end. Therefore I send thee what I have made for thee. Fare well, Elfstone! I die not, and leave not, and despair not. I and my father wait for thee, in trust and love, in hope of a new Age to come, by your valor against the chances of fate."‘
And Aragorn said: ‘Now I know what you bear. Bear it still for me a while! Now more than ever will I strive to redeem my kin and heritage, and renew the kingdom of our common fathers. I am no king of men while this war is fought, but I may yet be if all among us remain true.’ And he turned and looked away to the North under the great stars, and then he fell silent and spoke no more while the night’s journey lasted. – LotR V.2 (3rd ed.)

‘Much must be risked in war,’ said Denethor. ‘Cair Andros is manned and no more can be sent so far. But I will not yield the River and the Pelennor unfought - not if there is a captain here who has still the courage to do his lord’s will.’
Then all were silent, but at length Faramir said: ‘I do not oppose your will, sire. Since you are robbed of Boromir, I will go and do what I can in his stead - if you command it.’
‘I do so,’ said Denethor.
‘Then farewell!’ said Faramir. ‘But if I should return, think better of me!’
‘That depends on the manner of your return,’ said Denethor. ‘But I do not expect folly, nor a leader who spends the lives of his men in vain. Recall all your training, my final son and captain. Conserve your force, and strike where the foe is weakest. Courage alone does not make a hero, and knights are ill-advised who openly charge a fortified line. Buy time, for we need it, but pay a wise price.”
Gandalf it was that last spoke to Faramir ere he rode east. ‘Heed your sire, and tend to his counsel. Fight as he advised, and do not throw your life away rashly or in bitterness,’ he said. ‘You will be needed here, for other things than war. Your father loves you, Faramir, and will remember it ere the end. Farewell!’ – LotR V.4 (3rd ed.)