In Defense of Dwarves

When authors break the rules on purpose, and when editors let them.

On the subject of dwarves

I’ve been thinking a lot about The Hobbit. Not any one hobbit in particular, mind you, but about the 1937 classic by the legendary J.R.R. Tolkien. Actually, come to think of it, I’m not really thinking about hobbits at all, but about dwarves.

Did you know that Tolkien popularized that spelling? Before The Hobbit, the only widely accepted plural of dwarf was dwarfs. Professor Tolkien knew this, of course—he was a philologist, after all. But he did not like it. He was very insistent that if one elf was an elf and two were elves, then one dwarf should be a dwarf and two should be dwarves. And so it was.

His editor… did not like that. Apparently, there was quite the back and forth between editor, proofreader, and author over the spelling of this particular plural (you might even say they went There and Back Again hehe). But Tolkien insisted on his “piece of personal bad grammar,” and so it was. Now, nearly a century later, I think most of us probably adhere to the professor’s preference.

Now, in defense of the man’s editor

I would have changed it too. Copyeditors follow a style guide—The Chicago Manual of Style, for most fiction. That directs us to Merriam-Webster, which still lists dwarfs as the first preference for the plural form (though thanks to Tolkien, dwarves is also listed now as an acceptable alternative). But as a book editor, I typically go with MW’s first entry, and in this case, it’s dwarfs.

But here’s the thing: grammar rules aren’t meant to be strict guidelines we have to force ourselves to fit within. In many cases, grammar has to be flexible and adapt to make room for authorial voice, genre conventions, and invented stuff (worlds, words, etc). Grammar rules matter, but style is an author’s fingerprint. A good copyeditor not only knows the difference, but they know how to preserve style.

So who was right? Tolkien or the editor?

Both.

The editor was absolutely right to flag the unusual choice.

Tolkien was right to break convention, because it served a deeper purpose.

If it had been me, and the author insisted on an unconventional spelling, I would have marked it on the style sheet as dwarves (dwarf pl. - author preference) and gone about my day, because clearly he knew what he wanted.

A good editor should ask, “Was this intentional?” A confident author should say, “Yes, and here’s why.”

So when should you dig your heels in?

If you’ve made an intentional decision or choice (not a mistake) that breaks with grammar or spelling conventions because it serves voice, character, or world, stand by it. If breaking a rule helps your story land more powerfully, you’re not being difficult—you’re being deliberate. Stand ten toes down. Have your dwarves moment. Tolkien would be proud.