[Formendacil]

Yesterday I brought back What Breaks the Enchantment?, which struck a note with me by showing a significant change or two in my own reading habits with Tolkien over the years, and in today's perusal of the forgotten archives, this discussion of rereading seemed to resonate with a similar theme.

I was about eleven when I first read The Lord of the Rings* and I no longer remember much of that first read-through. Or the one that immediately followed. Or the one that immediately followed THAT. I do know that, between reading other books (I was a voracious reader as a child/pre-teen and shall forever regret that I have lost that Bombur-esque appetite), I returned again and again to The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit--though more especially the former. I went seeking as much that I could find that was similar. At first I thought I liked the fantasy genre, but I have never really found a fantasy author that pleased me, and I also tried to devour everything Tolkien I could find.

At first, The Silmarillion didn't cut it, but after a few attempts--and a year or two of growing up--that changed, and it was the added to the rotation. So too pieces of Unfinished Tales, and I have the dubious distinction of having RE-read each volume of the HoME--some more than once.

All of this was was before I was eighteen.

Then the Internet came (not all bad: note this website), and university, and growing up in general. Not that I ever laid Tolkien aside, mind you. I have reread bits and pieces here and there throughout the years, but the speed has decreased, largely because my overall reading has decreased and because, having read so repeatedly during those formative years, so many of the words of Middle-earth are lodged in the crannies of my skull with a persistence that might be inappropriate outside of a scriptural text.

But why? And why, having so thoroughly squeezed all the novelty out of these texts (the defence that "I learn something new each time" ceased to be 100% true--at least in the sense it's normally intended to have--a long time ago, though I by no means wish to suggest I know everything or have foregone learning) do I return to them? Yes, my current reread of The Two Towers is progressing at what 13-year-old me would have called a snail's pace, but that's as much because I'm savouring the process as because I have far less leisure time.

And it really is unique to Tolkien for me. Like Lalwendë above, I think rereading a thoroughly normal activity and I have reread many a good book--including mystery novels--but the extent to which I have reread Tolkien's work is a cut above the rest of it. I can safely say I will reread Tolkien on a regular basis for the rest of my life.

The main reason I would give is the same one that came up as I responded to the Enchantment Breaking thread: I have, essentially, become steeped in the text. It has thoroughly infected my ways of thinking, my ways of writing. Part of this is because I encountered the work at a pivotal age, but there is more. On this point, the words of Child, earlier in this thread, fit far better than my own:

Originally Posted by Child of the 7th Age

... my personal sympathy with Tolkien's rejection of irony that permeates so much of modern literature

[...]

Stepping back, I'd have to say that I return to Tolkien because his view of existence and my own strangely coincide, only he expresses his ideas with far more grace and art than I ever could. This isn't what first drew me to the book, but it is what keeps pulling me back. I must say it's very odd that this should be so, since on the face of things I have little in common with JRRT in terms of either background or formal beliefs.

...although, unlike Child, I do have a lot in common with Tolkien in terms of my formal beliefs.

In short, and in other words, I return to Middle-earth because it is like returning to my father's house: it is going home. Even if I am long away, I do not feel like a stranger upon returning because it made me who I am and I draw refreshment of self from being there.



*I honestly don't know how old I was. By the time I was looking back to figure it out, it was impossible to tell. But it was somewhere in the 9-11 range...