I’ve been reading Tolkien since I was seven years old, mumblety-mumble years in the distant past, but it wasn’t till much later that I got serious about reading critical works on Tolkien, and then turned to writing about him, myself. Twenty years ago, I published my first book on Tolkien. Since then, I’ve edited a number of essay collections, published many papers, consulted on the Hobbit movies, amassed a respectable personal library, and edited Mythlore, one of the major journals in the field of Tolkien studies, since 2006. My love of Tolkien has led me on many adventures and to deep and abiding friendships around the world!
I am fascinated by the contradictions of Tolkien’s women and by the tension between Christian and pagan in his writing.
This book is particularly valuable for its explication of Tolkien’s integration of Marian and Valkyrie imagery, resulting in female characters of transcendental beauty and heroism. And the writing is absorbing and informative.
Verlyn Flieger is the doyenne of Tolkien criticism, and this collection sees her at her best.
I’ve often found that her brilliance lies in pointing out what’s been hiding in plain sight–and once you have seen it, your view is forever changed. “But What Did He Really Mean?” and “Politically Incorrect Tolkien” are my favorites, but there are many gems here worth excavating.
Devoted to Tolkien, the teller of tales and co-creator of the myths they brush against, these essays focus on his lifelong interest in and engagement with fairy stories, the special world that he called faerie, a world they both create and inhabit, and with the elements that make that world the special place it is. They cover a range of subjects, from The Hobbit to The Lord of the Rings and their place within the legendarium he called the Silmarillion to shorter works like "The Story of Kullervo" and "Smith of Wootton Major."
I find many attempts to psychoanalyze authors disrespectful and poorly thought out, but this is an exception. It offers a unique perspective on the interrelationship between Tolkien’s life and art.
It is well-argued, convincing, and beautifully written. It gets deeply into the WHY of Tolkien’s art without being invasive or overly speculative.
If you are anything like me, one of the reasons you keep coming back to Middle-earth is the landscape. This is the field guide I want to take on my next trip!
This is a very thoroughly researched compendium of information and folklore about real-world plants in Tolkien’s world—and about his invented plants as well. It's nicely illustrated, too!
The book considers the importance of plants in Tolkien's conception of Middle-earth. It develops the theme that Middle-earth is our own world - and will awaken the reader to the connection between the plants of Tolkien's legendarium and those growing in our gardens and local natural areas of the Northern Hemisphere. It also demonstrates the connection between the various plant communities of Middle-earth and the elven and human cultures that occupy them, including those environments degraded by warfare, industrialization or pollution.
The heart of the book is an alphabetical listing, arranged by common names, of all of the plants mentioned…
I love a good, solid, chewy book of critical essays around a specific theme—I know, it’s a specialized taste. This is a good one.
Yes, I’d love to tramp peacefully around Middle-earth with the field guide I reviewed above, but there are horrors there as well, and this collection gives Tolkien’s dragons, wolves, spiders, and other monsters their due.
Fear and horror are an inextricable part of Tolkien's great mythology and his use of medieval sources for his evocations of fear and horror contribute to the distinctive tone of his work. This collection of essays shows how his masterly narrative techniques transform his sources, both familiar and unfamiliar, so that hitherto benign characters, objects and landscapes, as well as his famous monstrous creations, engage with deeply rooted human fears. The essays, by an international group of scholars, confirm Tolkien's worldwide reputation. They highlight the depiction of the fear associated with marginalised characters; explore the moral implications of light and…
When I was working on this book in the early 2000s, as the shadow of war was waxing darker and stronger every day, I found comfort in Tolkien’s depiction of courage, grace, and clear-eyed determination in the face of great evil. But I wanted to know why The Lord of the Rings suddenly seemed to speak to me so clearly about war.
What could I learn from Tolkien, a peaceful man but a soldier and a father of soldiers, that could help me face and understand war in my own time? I do not think there is a definitive answer to this question. Like Tolkien’s hobbits, we all learn more from the quest than the destination, and we all find our own individual answers.
I come by my interest in history and the years before, during, and after the Second World War honestly. For one thing, both my father and my father-in-law served as pilots in the war, my father a P-38 pilot in North Africa and my father-in-law a B-17 bomber pilot in England. Their histories connect me with a period I think we can still almost reach with our fingertips and one that has had a momentous impact on our lives today. I have taken that interest and passion to discover and write true life stories of the war—focusing on the untold and unheard stories often of the “Average Joe.”
October 24, 1944, is not a day of national remembrance. Yet, more Americans serving in World War II perished on that day than on any other single day of the war.
The narrative of No Average Day proceeds hour by hour and incident by incident while focusing its attention on ordinary individuals—clerks, radio operators, cooks, sailors, machinist mates, riflemen, and pilots and their air crews. All were men who chose to serve their country and soon found themselves in a terrifying and otherworldly place.
No Average Day reveals the vastness of the war as it reaches past the beaches in…
October 24, 1944, is not a day of national remembrance. Yet, more Americans serving in World War II perished on that day than on December 7, 1941, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, or on June 6, 1944, when the Allies stormed the beaches of Normandy, or on any other single day of the war. In its telling of the events of October 24, No Average Day proceeds hour by hour and incident by incident. The book begins with Army Private First-Class Paul Miller's pre-dawn demise in the Sendai #6B Japanese prisoner of war camp. It concludes with the death…
