Thanks to Anderson Cooper’s persistence on television, lots of banjo playing, many trips to the grocery store, and the creation of two gorgeous pizzas (if I had a camera now, you’d be drooling over images my prosciutto, arugula, fig-jam, and gorgonzola edible magnificence), I’ve actually only had time to sit down and read for a couple hours. So much for binge reading.
I did finish The Silmarillion, though, and it was beautiful. I was reading it on the train back from Whitefish yesterday, and my seatmate made the comment, “That’s the capital of nerddom right there,” giving a respectful chin-nod to the tome. Nerdy, perhaps. (It’s not like I speak Elvish, though– I doff my hat to those wonderful nerds that do.) Beautiful, yes. Well-crafted, yes. Thought-provoking, yes. If you haven’t had the chance to read it, picture the playfulness of The Hobbit having a baby with the elegance of The Silmarillion, and producing a well-balanced LOTR. The H. is the parent that reads you bedtime stories and takes you sledding, and The S. is the one that rules the fate of the world. Go read it!