In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
And so begins The Hobbit, or There and Back Again, one of the world's greatest children books, and the spark that reignited reader's love for fantasy. Its author, J.R.R. Tolkien, is the mitochondrial Eve, the origin from which all of high fantasy has spawned since.1 The Hobbit, which was first published in the fall of 1937, has only gone out of print once--and that was on account of the paper shortage of World War II!
This is the book that forever changed me, creating a lifelong interest in literature and storytelling.
The Hobbit was not only my introduction to enthralling literature, it was also the basis for my lifelong love of fantasy. Sure, I had read other children's books, and yes a great deal of them contained elements of fantasy, but none were nearly as compelling or detailed. The Hobbit, on the other hand, was very much alive, with fleshed out characters that practically jumped from the page to my psyche.
My current work in progress would not be a work of fantasy were it not for The Hobbit, and Tolkien in general. Hell, I wouldn't be writing today were it not for the fine example that Tolkien set.
Simply put, The Hobbit remains a timeless, well crafted story that everyone should read.
This blogfests ends at midnight tonight, so make sure to post your entry soon! While you're at it, take some time to peruse everyone else's as well. And to all of the entrants, thanks again for indulging me.
1 Yes, I occasionally end sentences with prepositions. I regret nothing.
