Being the first part of The Lord of The Rings

This is my Christmas present to myself this year: before I return to JBU, I will read The Fellowship of The Ring. I’ve tried before, and it didn’t work. This time, I think we are a go. I’m only 81 pages into it. I know I tend toward overexcitement about projects at the beginning, but, seriously, this just might work.

I can’t believe I just grouped this experience with other “projects” I have undertaken. I can’t believe that I start my sentences with cheesy and false phrases like “I can’t believe . . .” Cheesy because I say it all the time, and false because I can believe that I would make a project out of reading. It’s usually what I do.

I need to work on reading for the sake of reading. A less analytical approach toward literature is probably in order.

I see something like Peter Pan, and all I can think is, ‘It’s a commentary on adolescent turmoil.  The protagonist is deeply marked by the internal conflict that comes with aging. This is compounded by his obvious Oedipal tendencies (don’t believe me? He’s enamored with Wendy, who is some sort of mother to him and his Lost Boys. His exploits chiefly involve the maiming of Captain Hook, who is always played by a double-cast actor. His other role? Mr. Darling, the father of the three children taken to Never-Never Land. Significant? I THINK YES). Of course the boy doesn’t want to grow up. Not only is he afraid of the real world, he is afraid of the happenings in his own head. Why DEAL with all of that? Why not remain a boy forever? As he is, he is fixed in time. These conflicts are frozen with him, thereby giving him the option to never face them.’

Or maybe it’s just a play about a boy who can fly.

So, back to Fellowship.

Maybe part of my self-given present should be a promise to not overanalyze this one. Instead, I’ll enter humbly into the world that Tolkien crafted – and a wonderful world it is. It runs on a slower, richer pace than the hyped-up Hollywood slideshow. The movie version is (not surprisingly) sexitized. The fifty-year old Frodo and enormous-eybrowed Gandalf from the book would simply not be allowed…

Yep, definitely analyzing again.

II'm not saying my analyses are accurate. I’m not saying everyone should do this to books. I just will. Always. I enjoy my little pretenses, probably too much.

Someday, I’ll make the effort to erase the pretense and presumption. I’ll read this book to my kids when they’re all tucked up in bed, eyes wide in wonderment. Then, the book will just be a book. A great book. A dense book. Maybe too dense for really small ones… perhaps we’ll start with a different world, like Narnia, or Hogwarts, or even Never-Never Land.

But I’ll leave out all the crap about Oedipus.