LOTR ( was Who really killed DD - The real story)

[Neri]

> > Tonks:
> > I do not normally read fiction. HP was an exception. Since I love 
> HP 
> > and saw the LOTR movie, and know a lot of people who are obsessed 
> > with LOTR I tried reading the books. I just could not get past 
the 
> > first few chapters. He invented all of those words that I can not 
> > pronounce or remember. 


> CMC:
> I half liked LOTR, which I first read even before the Ralph Bakshi 
> version was out (terrible movie, but Leonard Rosenman's magnificent 
> score far surpasses Howard Shore's musical mediocrity). The 
sections 
> involving Frodo, Sam & Gollum are fraught with superb 
> characterization and complex psychological interaction (and it was 
> precisely those aspects which the Jackson film was weaker than the 
> narrative).  But all those battle/conferencing sequences with 
> Gandalf, Boromir, Legolas, et al. were of jaw-locking dullness (but 
> were correspondingly far more interesting on screen).  I had the 
> exact same reaction upon re-reading the trilogy just before the 
> Jackson film release.
> 
> I'd rather read Aquinas on the nature of the Trinity any day.
> 

Neri:
I suspect LotR is one of those books you need to read at the right 
age. I discovered it at 14, which was just perfect. I count myself a 
*huge* LotR fan but the truth is I haven't reread it for at least ten 
years now. Also, LotR indeed has a very slow beginning, and I 
remember myself skipping lines and paragraphs for 100 or 200 pages 
before I really got hooked.

LotR is modern epic myth, as opposed to most modern fantasy 
(including The Hobbit and also HP) which is actually modern 
fairytale. The epic style of LotR can be very slow and tiring if 
you're not into it, in the same way that old myth like the Iliad, 
Beowulf or Le Morte d'Arthur can be extremely tiring if you are not 
into this style. You need to read LotR almost like you read poetry, 
for the rhythm and the sound and the atmosphere.


I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been; 

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair. 

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see. 

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green. 

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know. 

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.