O, to discover that magic again...
I could not have been older than seven or eight when my parents read this book to my sister and me. It must have made some good impression on me because I remember telling one of the riddles around a bonfire when I was a rising fourth-grader.
Which riddle was it? No-legs lay on one-leg, two-legs sat near on three-legs, four-legs got some. No, I will not reveal the solution to those of you who have not read the book. Unfortunately, though, I do not recall whether those who heard the riddle around the bonfire were able to solve it.
This book will always be high on my favorites list. It is very near to my heart. After all, The Hobbit, published in 1937, is the one that started it all. 1937. Seventy-four years ago. Seventy-four years later, it remains a beloved classic that parents everywhere want to read to their children.
I would love to read this book again for the first time. I would love to rediscover the magic. To meet Gandalf again. To become reacquainted with Gollum. To be reintroduced to Tolkien's poetic writing.
I especially want to re-read this book for the first time because I was so young when I was introduced. I really do not remember anything about The Hobbit being read to me, and I wish I did. I wish I knew what seven-or-eight-year-old me was thinking as she heard the writing of one of the greatest all-time novelists.
Man. I must be feeling sentimental or something today. Sorry if you gagged from all the schmaltzy writing, but I would just love to read The Hobbit again for the first time.
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