It took us almost a whole year, but our family read ‘The Lord of the Rings’ out loud.
Well, I’m back.
We did it. We finished The Lord of the Rings. On August 22, to be precise. Nearly one year after starting it. And exactly a month from the autumnal equinox. There’s some near symmetry to make Tolkien proud.
A whole year. It took Frodo & Co. less time than that to destroy the One Ring. Though I think that’s what you get when you read this to kids under the age of 10. I had moments when I thought that it would be too much. Too many characters. Too many allusions to elven lore. Too many timelines and timeline changes. Too many questions from the kids about what’s happening and which king are we talking about now, and is Eowyn the elf or is that Arwen? And just so. many. pages. One thousand and thirty one, to be exact.
But we persevered. And it was worth it, and I’d do it again. I had hardly finished the final page when Lily, our youngest, requested that we start at the very beginning and read up to the part where Frodo learns the truth about his uncle’s ring.
Parenting mission accomplished. Lily will get an extra share of her inheritance.
I find it interesting—revealing—that she wanted to read only the beginning chapters again. Maybe she knew she couldn’t take the full journey again. But why the beginning? It could be because we spent several hours one cool, misty September morning last year devouring much of that section. Perhaps the physical memory of learning the truth about The Ring, wrapped in blankets in our living room with a fire on the hearth, has imprinted on her a unique importance to those opening sections.
I think this is true. And it reinforces the truth that the slow beauty of the Shire is just as compelling and enchanting and enthralling as Lothlorien or Edoras or Minas Tirith. Because even as the hobbits found themselves at the heart of a universally important story that began ages before their setting foot on the stage, they just wanted to go home. The glories of Numenor and the vastness of the plains of Rohan cannot compete with that. Tolkien built up a world of home before wrenching us out of it. A true myth always points toward home, and Tolkien steeps us in that truth so fully that if we sit with it, we come to see our own homes and gardens and things with a renewed sense of spiritual significance.
Then, almost as soon as the hobbits return to the Shire, they face another journey: Frodo and Bilbo’s departure from Middle Earth at the Grey Havens. Our home is not our final home. At least not yet. Healing and resurrection require the “swift sunrise” of death and resurrection. It brought to mind this prayer from the Prayer Book—and I’ll quote it now and trust that Tolkien wouldn’t be too offended about an Anglican prayer being used when discussing his writing.
O Lord, support us all the day long, until the shadows lengthen, and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then in your mercy, grant us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last. Amen.
Which is to say that I sobbed my way through the last half of the last chapter. Lindsey was ready to jump in and finish it, but I found a way.
I also choked up reading through the post-Gray Havens timeline in Appendix B. Aragorn brings out the burial beds of Merry and Pippin so that he dies and lies in state alongside them? Legolas stayed in Middle Earth until Aragorn passes, then takes Gimli with him? It’s too much.
(Yes, I read from the Appendices to my kids. And, yes, James wants to learn elvish now. Parenting mission accomplished, again.)
A day or so after we finished, Linds and I surprised the kids with two puzzles I found in a vintage store in Old Town. They are making great progress on “Bilbo’s Last Song.”
I’m not really sure where to go from here, so I’ll close with a handful of observations and highlights. I’ll do so as if you were interviewing me. Who doesn’t love a good Q&A!
What’s one thing you didn’t remember or notice about The Lord of the Rings since you last read it?
Most of our readings took place before bed. And on many occasions, we’d end a given night’s reading at a section where characters were preparing for sleep or in the process of drifting off to sleep. On those instances, I’d say something to the effect of, “And it’s time for us to go to bed, too.” I think this helped us feel more connected to the characters. We were living in step with them.
Tolkien’s Middle Earth is founded on history and seasons and symmetry and rhythm and time. Reading the book with kids helped me pick up on that structure and those cadences.
Reading it with kids is also helpful if you want to see Barad-dûr come to life via Legos.
What is your favorite quote or line in The Lord of the Rings?
Oooh, tough one. There are lots of lines that could be considered favorite or most moving or most likely to make me cry reading them, even without context. This is also a hard question because it’s been at least a decade since I’ve read LOTR, and at every other turn of the page there was a line or a phrase that surprised or delighted or brought tears to the eye.
I’m not stalling, though. I do have an answer. It’s from The Return of the King when Frodo and Sam are reunited with Aragorn in the Field of Cormallen after the Ring has been destroyed. The king and the whole host of the Captains of the West receive the two hobbits and honor them. A minstrel from Gondor sings to everyone gathered about “Frodo the Nine Fingered,” and Sam erupts in elation and then weeping. Everyone laughs and weeps with him. Then the minstrel sings. Here’s the full paragraph, but it’s the last line that slew me.
And he sang to them, now in the elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.
Goodness. Yep, I’m done.
How did your kids react when Gollum perished?
My kids loved Gollum. They pitied him very deeply in their hearts. They went about their days talking like him (based on my voice acting). I think they felt akin to him. They knew that what Sméagol needed most was a forever home that he never found. So when he fell into the Crack of Doom holding The Ring, they were equally astonished and heartbroken. They spilled some tears. But not as many as I feared they would. (And not nearly as many as when Gandalf fell in Moria.) They recognized the redemptive work fulfilled in Gollum, even in his tragedy. And they were so happy to have The Ring destroyed and all the Fellowship reunited that they forgave Gollum, like Frodo counseled, and moved on to celebrating the eucatastrophe.
What did The Lord of the Rings reveal to you about the Christian life?
The Christian is both warrior and gardener. One an unfortunately necessary identity that must be well-trained and disciplined and, per figures like Faramir (and Frodo), in possession of a certain kind of reluctance to go to war when that war is not being waged against sin, the flesh, and the devil. For there certainly are things we are called to put to death (Romans 8:13, Colossians 3:5-11). And the other is an innate calling—our original posture—that prefers spade to sword and longs for the day when the latter will be beaten into the former. We were made to take the soil, bless, it break, it and give it back to God and neighbor as a gift, transformed and bloomed and more than when we found it.
Both warrior and gardener, though, are called to till “clean soil” for those that come after us.
And the work of cleaning the soil—both inward and outward varieties—can only be accomplished in fellowship with others. Much is being made of the loneliness epidemic sweeping America. Loyal and lasting friendships usually form in the context of doing hard things together for a purpose bigger than ourselves. This is what the church offers: friendship and community that is at once an end in and of itself and also an arrow that propels us to a larger and more glorious target. We’ve been given roles in a real myth (as C.S. Lewis and Tolkien would say) that is playing out right now.
Why is the book preferable to the movie?
My kids are still too young to see the Peter Jackson trilogy. Not just because the movies are more visually didactic and intense than the book. But also because my kids have a limited amount of time before the Middle Earth as seen in their minds’ eyes is replaced by the Middle Earth of Peter Jackson’s rendering. And that time is precious. Their own visions and imaginative interpretations of this story are so precious, and I want them to hang on to them as long as they can.
(Uh-oh. I used “precious” twice there.)
To more directly answer the question, the book is preferable for four key reasons.
Reason the first: Tom Bombadil. He’s the Melchizedek of Middle Earth. Jackson and the Hollywood Machine cannot abide such a dude. It’s a tremendous deficit to the films.
Reason the second: Jackson had no idea what to do with Faramir. So, his treatment of Faramir’s relationship with Frodo was tonally and narratively disastrous.
Reason the third: FRODO NEVER DISOWNED SAM ON THE WAY TO CIRITH UNGOL, FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE.
Reason the fourth: The Odyssey ain’t the Odyssey if Ulysses doesn’t come home and clean house. Same with The Lord of the Rings. It ain’t the same if Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin don’t return home to pull weeds that sprang up in their absence.
Well, this was a treat! Thanks for the insightful questions. We’ll have to do this again another time. In fact, I’d truly love to hear your thoughts or questions about LOTR or literature-with-children adventures (and not just my made-up questions). What has this dialogue brought to your mind? What are you currently reading yourself or with your kids? Leave a comment below or via Substack.
