Books are usually very rigidly labeled: Young adult, children’s literature, chick lit, mum- to- be- books, boys’ literature, etc…  Such tags sometimes dramatically influence our book choices, sometimes even for life, unless… Unless you had a mum who understood your 10-year-old interests already went far beyond Little Women ‘s preoccupations, and was happy to secretly hand you Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice. Unless you have been lucky enough to pursue literature studies where teachers rapidly break down your literary boundaries. Unless you marry someone clever enough to tempt you with a brand new genre…

My beloved M… had an unconditional affection for Tolkien and his Lord of the Rings series as a child (and still does!). This – as I called it with unhidden disdain – had never been my cup of tea. I mean, who would spend hours reading about dwarfs, elves or other outrageously unappealing, strangely named creatures. Hobbits? Really? I was 12 and into proper literature! Little did I know that Tolkien’s work has influenced 50 years of American writers, and is taught at university together with Shakespeare.

For the uninitiated:  the evil and extremely powerful wizard Sauron, is progressively taking over Middle Earth. Diffusing despair and fear from his realm, Mordor, he aims to drive the human race to extinction. The remaining good forces – the Elves, Dwarfs, Men, and Hobbits – join Gandalf the Grey, the remaining good wizard, in a war council… The source of Sauron’s power is a magical ring, which, until now, was carefully hidden in the Shire, a county where the Hobbits, minuscule creatures with big ears and big hairy feet live in peace. As Sauron deploys forces to find the ring, the Council decides it has to be destroyed. Representatives of the good forces then join in a Fellowship, vowing to do everything in their power to help the ring-bearer, Frodo, a quiet little Hobbit, and his friend Sam to reach Mordor and throw the ring in the fires of Mordor.  As the Hobbits  slowly progress toward Sauron’s territory, Middle-Earth prepares for the last battle in a final moment of bravery…

The Lord of the Rings is usually sold in the literature section for adolescent boys, which is a big mistake in my opinion. Some said it is because it lacks female characters. Well, Homer’s Odyssey is not particularly layered with heroines and no one labels it a boy’s book.  I concede The Lord of the Rings’ female characters are scarce, but only in comparison with the multitude of the male ones. From the Elvish Queen Galadriel to the Rohan Princess Eowyn, they are mostly incredibly inspiring, full of courage, ready to love and not reduced to stereotypical roles into which female characters are usually boxed.

Tolkien’s work is overall a universal tale (this is immensely important to me – see the Twilight post).  The more I read, the more I got attached to all aspects of the book, from the millennium History of Middle Earth to the admirable friendship of Sam, Frodo’s earnest friend and servant. I dreamt of meeting Aragorn, of riding with Rohan’s horsemen, of trying a mouthful of Elvish bread and fighting in front of Mordor’s black gate in a desperate attempt to divert Sauron’s attention from Frodo and Sam. It is a history of God and men, of love and courage, of magic and simple human survival instincts and surprising friendships. In a word, a modern Odyssey where you ask yourself, what would I have done if I had been there, if Despair seemed to have won, if I had known there was no journey back…

In my careful reading, I lived the same moments of joy, grief and disappointment that M… felt. I discovered another part of him. I opened up to hours of debate, to annual The Lord of the Rings movie marathons, and to the understanding of the many subtle jokes and The Lord of the Rings references he casually makes. A book is a way to access the minds of the people you love, a way to share a moment together and create new memories.

Reading is all about sharing and, somehow, also about love. No longer driven by assignments or an alleged level of seriousness, my reading choices are now the result of a complex mixture of endless review screening, publishing houses’ efficient marketing (yes, I still buy books only because the cover is appealing!), but, above all, in-depth, animated discussions.  Each book is a new step stone of my friendships. I follow friends’ recommendations because I trust them, whatever my initial prejudices. And yes, sometimes I end-up reading gruesome, uninspiring non-fiction. But here and there I am in for an unexpected surprise. Tell me what you read. I won’t tell you who you are, but I will definitely give the book a try.

TOLKIEN J.R.R., The Lord of the Ring, Allen & Unwin, 1954, London.