The Silmarillion

I first attempted "The Silmarillion" when it was first published in 1977. I read the first chapter and didn't get it. I wanted another "Lord of the Rings" or "Hobbit", so I put it down and it collected dust ever since. This year, I made myself a challenge to read twelve of Tolkien's works, including the posthumously published ones, edited by his son. So it necessitated finally the attempt. I was pretty nervous. Then a member of worldswithoutend.com told me about tolkienprofessor.com, a site by an English prof at a small liberal arts college in Maryland who posts lectures on Tolkien's work. I also found a Tolkien atlas at the library. With these tools, I decided I could finally give it a try.

I was amazed. The way I survived, appreciated, and fell in love with it was by returning to the idea that I was reading the Bible. The stories are more or less connected and linear. The dialogue is grandiose at times, as you would expect in an epic. Many figures are tragic and the bad guys are really bad. At times there is too much detail, at other times, not enough. But it comes down to this: This is not the coherent narrative fiction I'm used to reading. I'm experiencing Mythopeia, a fictional mythology, in its rawest form, and I loved it.

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