The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

Published: August 12th, 1986 (first published in 1954)

Publisher: Random House Publishing Group

Pages: 458

Rating: 5/5


The dark, fearsome Ringwraiths are searching for a Hobbit. Frodo Baggins knows that they are seeking him and the Ring he bears—the Ring of Power that will enable evil Sauron to destroy all that is good in Middle-earth. Now it is up to Frodo and his faithful servant, Sam, with a small band of companions, to carry the Ring to the one place it can be destroyed: Mount Doom, in the very center of Sauron’s realm. [Description from Goodreads]


Review:
The backcover reads: THE GREATEST FANTASY EPIC OF OUR TIME.

Oh yeah. You better believe it.

I loved The Fellowship of the Ring. Now, if you told me that while I was reading it, I would have laughed in your face. Because honestly, there were points when I wanted to stop. Some passages were so. Slow. This was my second attempt at reading it, so I was determined to persevere until I finished. I got a little tired of hearing about the landscape, though. Just to prepare you if you haven’t read it: there was a lot of talk about the landscape. And it all kind of got muddled in my head, so I really didn’t follow along very well when Tolkien described the hills and the rivers and the valleys over and over and over again. But what is classic literature without a little (or a lot) of relatively unnecessary description?

Rabbit trail aside, you’re probably wondering what I did like about the book. The writing. The story. The magic. I realized how much I like about The Fellowship once I finished it. You know when you’re reading a book that you don’t necessary love, but you’re determined to read it anyways, and when you’re finished, you have this sad sinking feeling? That’s how it was for me. That feeling, dear readers, is the realization of how lost you were in the book; it’s like coming up for air, then realizing you want to drown all over again in its pages.

Fantasy is not normally my style, but then again, The Lord of the Rings trilogy is not ordinary fantasy. It’s Tolkien fantasy. It takes on a whole new personality and meaning when it’s Tolkien fantasy. In my opinion, fantasy didn’t exist as a genre until Tolkien sat down to write about hobbits and dwarves and elves and orcs in the early 1950s. All other fantasy books cower in the shadow of The LotR trilogy.

Tolkien creates a world matched by no other. Every detail, down to the last tree and shrub in the Shire, is accounted for. He never fails to convince you how real it all is- which is exactly what authors must do to make their fiction worlds come alive in our imaginations. I’m still completely enchanted with Middle Earth, and despite my attempts to shove them out, I still have hobbits and elves dancing in my head.

In conclusion, I, like many others, was charmed by Tolkien’s thrilling tale of a group of little heroes trying to preserve a very powerful ring. Though this tale reads slowly at points, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it just as much as I did if you take the time to let Tolkien work his magic on you.

Quick Content Review: *may contain spoilers*

Language: None.

Violence: Minor (some sword-fighting and short battle sequences)

Sexual: None.