[davem]

Found the Mail on Sunday review that annoyed Mith so much

http://www.pressdisplay.com/pressdisplay/viewer.aspx

(Just in case the link doesn't work, here's the text:

Tortured by Tolkien
CraigBrown
CRITIC OF THE YEAR
Afew years ago, the book dealer Rick Gekoski wrote a funny book of reminiscences called Tolkien’s Gown. In the title essay, he discussed the amazing prices commanded by J. R. R. Tolkien in the world of rare books. Apparently, a signed copy of The Lord Of The Rings can now fetch £50,000, and a signed copy of The Hobbit £75,000. Tolkien was a Professor of English Language at Oxford University, and one of Gekoski’s earliest sale-items, back in 1982, was Tolkien’s old gown, which he billed as ‘original black cloth, slightly frayed and with a little soiling’. He sold it to an American academic for a comparatively modest $1,000 but now thinks he could have got a lot more: ‘An added attraction, not evident in those innocent times, was that from one of its many DNA-rich stains one might eventually hope to clone a small army of Tolkiens, and fill a senior common room full of professors brandishing epics.’ Oddly enough, since Tolkien’s death aged 81 in 1973, he has had more new books published than he ever did when he was alive. The Father Christmas Letters came out in 1976, The Silmarillion in 1977, Unfinished Tales in 1980, The Letters in 1981, Finn And Hengest in 1982 and so on and so forth, up to Roverandom in 1998. It is almost as though Murdoch, The Dark Lord From Down Under And All-Commanding Master Of The Busy Elves Of HarperCollins, had succeeded in cloning hundreds of those little Tolkiens from that stained gown and had forced them into a hole in the ground to beaver away on new publications. Another year, another new work by J. R. R. Tolkien. The Children Of Hurin – or, to give it its full name, Narn I Chin Hurin: The Tale Of The Children Of Hurin, for with Tolkien everything has to be translated from the original gobbledegook – runs to 313 pages. These are fleshed out with a preface, an introduction, a note on pronunciation (‘U in names like Hurin, Turin, should be pronounced oo; thus “Toorin” not “Tyoorin”’), three separate genealogies, two appendices, a long, long list of names of characters and places (‘Hador Goldenhead: Elf-friend, lord of Dor-Lomin, vassal of King Fingolfin, father of Galdor father of Hurin and Huor; slain at Eithel Sirion in the Dagor Bragollach. House of Hador, one of the Houses of the Edain’), a little map, plus a the little map. The book itself has been pieced together by Tolkien’s third son and literary executor, Christopher, who is 83 years old. In his prefaces and appendices, Christopher explains how the book came to be, although, even after repeated readings, I’m still not sure I’ve managed to take it all in. From what I could gather, J. R. R. Tolkien started the book in the First World War but put it down unfinished, took it up again in the Twenties, this time in AngloSaxon verse, and then, after six years and 4,000 lines, put it down once more. Thirtyfour years after his father’s death, Christopher has knocked the various story-lines into some sort of shape, and so off we go . . .

Not nearly as funny as his review of 'Children of Quidsin' in this weeks Private Eye