On re-reading Lord of the Rings for the first time in 35 years, part one

The Fellowship of the Ring (1954)

Blimey, the idiocy of rural life.

Blimey, the misogyny of rural life.

Blimey, Tom Bombadil. What a twat.

Blimey, this is pedestrian. And I don’t just mean all the walking.

Blimey, these elves are even more insufferable than I remembered.

Blimey, Gandalf’s dead. Or is he?

Blimey, these elves are even more insufferable than the last lot.

So Rivendell is Granta and Lorién The New Yorker?

Jajajajajajaja. Wetwang.

Blimey, Orcs shoot bows the way Imperial Stormtroopers fire blasters.

Blimey, that Boromir’s a wrong ’un.

Well, that whole fellowship thing didn’t last long, did it?

 

(For my last adventure in rereading Tolkien, start here, though this is the best of those posts.)