The Hobbit

The Hobbit is a good story. It is a whimsical take on an epic, and I think that if I had read The Hobbit as a child, I would be a lifelong fan. But, alas, I waited some score and several years before perusing this book, and the whimsy just failed to take hold. 

I appreciate the characters with their quirks, I appreciate the mini adventures which provide inspiration for idioms, and I appreciate the introduction of legend, and even immortality which comes from courageous acts. On this last point, I did find, however, it rather strange that the impetus for the entire adventure, and the legend it inspired, was to recover stolen gold and jewels. True, the gold and jewels in question were the rightful property of the dwarves, and the dragon did wrongfully divest the dwarves of their treasure, and when the dwarves had possession of the mountain and the forges, they did create great prosperity throughout the land. But still, material goods seems rather a shallow purpose for risking life and limb on a grand adventure. You may say that people do it all the time, and I will agree, but the truly legendary expeditions are undertaken at least ostensibly for loftier ideals—evangelization or freedom, rather than gold or oil. I suspect Mr. Tolkien had some of the same dissatisfaction with The Hobbit, and perhaps that is why the rest of The Lord of the Rings series is a battle of good and evil that idealizes self sacrifice and the voluntary eschewance of material goods and worldly power. But more on that later.