Today is my husband's birthday. (Yes, one week after mine.) He's my favourite human, and I'm pretty gosh darned glad he was born.
So in honour of the day, today's book review features his favourite book, The Hobbit.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
I first read this classic when I was in the fourth grade. It was my first experience with anything even close to fantasy or adventure, and I was definitely out of my comfort zone.
But you know what? I loved it.
Bilbo is one of my favourite characters ever. He's unassuming, and thrust into an incredible adventure - perhaps one of the greatest adventure stories in literature. But he chooses to take it up. He chooses to join in.
He isn't a typical hero, but perhaps because of that I love him more. He's small. He's kind. He's forgiving. He's creative, and witty, and sincere. He's a reluctant hero, and because of that, the fact that he still is a hero is even more... heroic.
Plus, the story is tightly told. It's interesting, and while I do love the Lord of the Rings trilogy, I don't miss the six-page descriptions of trees.
If I had read more books like this in my youth, perhaps I'd love fantasy books more. As it is, though, this is an excellent read. Read it to your children. Read it with your children. Read it on your own; it's more than just a kid's book.
And I'm not just saying that because I identify so much with hobbits.
Have you read this classic? What did you think? How does it compare to the Lord of the Rings books, or other fantasy books?
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