Do you ever have a book that you’re really enjoying, but also not enjoying at the same time? That’s kind of how I felt about this book. When I was reading it, I really loved it, but I felt no pull to the book to make me want to carry on reading or to pick up the book instead of watching tv.
The part I enjoyed most about the book was that the descriptions were so detailed and immersed you completely in these mystical lands. You could almost believe you were in the forests or the mountains along with Bilbo and the dwarves. I would imagine that it made it easier for Peter Jackson to direct the film because you get such a good feeling about the place from Tolkien.
I don’t really know why I didn’t feel any kind of connection to the book. It might be because this is not my usual genre, or maybe because it was written in the 1930’s and the style of writing was not what I’m used to, but I was disappointed in myself for not enjoying it as much as I thought I would.
I do still want to read the Lord of the Rings books, but maybe not for now. It took me way too long to read this, so I hate to think how long it would take me to read the trilogy if I attempted it now.
I’m going to give this book 3 stars for now, but I think I’ll read it again in the future and hopefully I’ll get on with it better.
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