The thing I have feared since the end of October, has finally happened. My adorably cute puppy, who looks like the most innocent of little angels, has committed the most serious of crimes. I can forgive his obsession with my bunny slippers, and all those times he peed on my white bathroom carpet. But will I be able to forgive this?
This is what is left of my copy of J.R.R Tolkien’s The Two Towers. During the night a certain furry little creature sneaked up to my bookshelf, picked out this particular book and tore it to pieces. Then he continued his carefree sleep. When my boyfriend discovered the shreds of my book in the morning, he was smart enough to wait until after I had drunken my first cup of tea before revealing the wreckage to me.
That book has been with me for almost 20 years, and I have read it so many times that it was on the verge of falling apart. I received all 3 volumes of The Lord of the Rings trilogy for my birthday during my first year of secondary school, after borrowing them from the library, and falling in love. Initially the books took some time in winning my trust. I remember visiting the library several times and hesitating whether to borrow the books. They seemed perfect, except for one small detail; the fact that the Hobbits liked to drink beer. Having never read any adult books, beer was not an acceptable literary matter in my opinion. Beer was what my parents drank when they invited friends over on Friday evenings. On Saturday morning me and my sister would enter the living room, carrying our blankets, to find a mess of beer bottles and overflowing ashtrays on the coffee table. This did not fit in with our plans of curling up in blankets, and watching early morning children’s cartoons on TV, and so we carried the offensive smelly bottles to the kitchen, holding the slim necks with the tips of our fingers. I still blame my dislike for beer on the intrusion of those bottles in my Saturday morning ritual.
Anyway, when I finally gave in to the temptation, giving LOTR a chance despite the beer drinking, the books were everything I had hoped for. An epic journey set in a world detailed enough to seem quite real to me. I loved the poems and the old fashioned language. I adored the long descriptions of the environment. The Hobbits were brave despite their diminutive size and Aragorn was a born leader and hero.
In the intervening years many books have taken their turn in pushing The Lord of the Rings trilogy further down the favorites list, but I will never forget the magic of that discovery.
RIP my dear Two Towers.
And of course I forgive Loki. How could I not?
