The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien (read by Andy Serkis)

I think by now it's pretty pointless to give a blow-by-blow account of JRR Tolkien's masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings (LotR) considering that it has become so firmly entrenched in popular culture. But I do feel I need to share a few of my thoughts and feelings about the Andy Serkis reading of all three books, which total approximately whopping 65 hours of listening pleasure combined.

I've been threatening for years to revisit the trilogy. I first read it around the tender age of 12, one heady summer holiday that had my mom complaining I spent too much time indoors when other kids my age were working on future basal cell carcinoma on Cape Town's beaches. I knew from the moment that I first read these books (I own the hardcover centenary edition, now sadly sans dust cover, with Alan Lee's illustrations) that I wanted to be an author who wrote about elves and dragons, and created worlds I could get lost in. The Peter Jackson films remain among my firm favourites.

So, yeah, LotR inhabits a very special place in my heart. It was my gateway to becoming a SFF author, and it's one of the few epics that has left me in tears at the end. Every time those elves go West. Sam's almost anticlimactic "Well, I'm back" at the end always slays me – that we can embark on these earth-shattering adventures and still return to merely being ourselves. We are forever changed on the inside, even if we present a face to our friends and family that appears the same as always. I can peel back so many layers.

The problem with LotR, is I simply don't have the time to sit down and read the entire thing, but I do have time when I'm doing mindless menial things like washing dishes and driving, to listen to audiobooks. Audible has been a lifesaver, and The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King, as narrated by Andy Serkis, are absolute gems.

It's one thing to read Tolkien, and have an appreciation for his exquisite style, but it's quite another to hear a gifted actor such as Serkis breathe life into the story so that it feels as if my earballs are giving me a full-cast production. Of course, as always, Gollum steals the show. 

I feel as if I've reconnected with the work in a different way through having listened to this rendition of one of the greatest works of fantasy literature in my personal library, and if you find the idea of sitting down with a dead-tree version daunting, you can't go wrong with these three chaps. Granted, it took me about three months to work through all of them consecutively, but they served to remind me why I keep returning to Tolkien's writing. His wordplay remains exceptional, and very few authors come close to how he describes the beauty of nature. (I realise I'm one of those individuals who won't tire of endless descriptions of bloody trees, okay?)

JRR Tolkien – A Biography by Humphrey Carpenter

As a lifelong fan of JRR Tolkien, an author to whom I owe an immense debt for inspiration, it's kinda scandalous that I've not delved into his history up until quite recently. The 2019 biopic can, in my opinion, only loosely nod at Tolkien's earlier years and does not in the least do any justice to the man and his immense literary output. When I encountered JRR Tolkien – A Biography by Humphrey Carpenter on Audible, I popped it onto my wishlist and eventually got around to giving it a listen.

Narrator Roger May does a sterling job bringing the words to life, and I was surprised by how quickly I ate my way through the book. It of course helps that I find the subject matter absolutely fascinating, but the production quality is excellent, which most certainly adds value to the overall experience.

Put simply, Tolkien had an incredibly intense, focused intellect – words really were his jam, if we excuse my dreadful abuse of idiom. He was also very much a product of his time, something that we who live in a more liberal society should keep in mind. Tolkien's milieu was mostly divided along strict gender roles – and he was very much a man's man in terms of where he sought his friendships. Yet by equal measure, he adored his wife Edith – in a way I feel that saw her placed upon a pedestal. Humphrey does touch upon the tensions that occasionally arose between Tolkien and Edith – the man really did inhabit two worlds.

It's my opinion this gender-based segregation was a product of the then educational institutions in a largely patriarchal society, which was further reinforced by Tolkien's experiences fighting in the trenches during WW1. This life-and-death camaraderie between men is echoed quite clearly in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. It is what it is – cultural artefact of an era.

What Humphrey further unpacks is Tolkien's fascination with languages, which infuses everything from his academic work all the way to his ambitious fiction writing. Whether it's digging into the old Germanic languages upon which English has its foundations laid to the creation of imaginary languages in Middle-Earth, it's clear that this was a topic that engaged his imagination – and mine, too! I've often heard complaints that Tolkien's writing is too slow, too detailed, too boring, but for those with the patience and the love of the sound of words, each paragraph is a carefully crafted work of literary art. And this is a hill I'm prepared to die on.

In short, if you're looking for an introduction into the Prof's life and writing, and are curious about how works like The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings went from hand-written manuscript to final product, that went on to spawn a popular multi-media fandom, then this is a good place to start. We even get to see the kindling and cooling of his friendship with another literary luminary – CS Lewis.

I can't help but wonder how things would have been different for the fantasy genre if Tolkien had more time (or the wherewithal) to expand on the other stories that exist as mere synopses in The Silmarillion. Although he is not the first to write fantasy, he most certainly ushered the genre into popularity, and many authors who followed in his wake were most certainly heavily inspired by his Middle-Earth.

The Hobbit, or There and Back Again, by JRR Tolkien, read by Andy Serkis

My first encounter with JRR Tolkien's The Hobbit came when I was around six years old, and my mum picked up a paperback copy from which she read parts of to me. I do admit I was probably a little too young to appreciate this, back then, but I did go on to reading the book on my own when I was about 11 or 12. Which is also when I plunged headlong into The Lord of the Rings and knew from that moment that I wanted to be a fantasy writer. 

I'm always somewhat baffled when people complain that The Hobbit is boring, but hey, there's no accounting for people's taste. But what I will say to those of you who didn't quite gel with the reading, do give the audiobook narrated by Andy Serkis a try. It's my firm belief that some fiction only truly comes alive as the spoken word, and in this case, The Hobbit is a prime example.

Tolkien is a master of the third person omniscient, so often interrupts the main flow to give a little of his own opinion – and sometimes the references to things from his own time, like football, can be a bit jarring. This is especially the case considering that the conventions of present day fiction favour a limited first- or third-person point of view. So I'm guessing the 'narrator voice' of the author might be off-putting to some readers (though I do believe that they don't quite know how to articulate this, judging by the reviews out there – worth a laugh and an eye-roll if you're trawling to see the one-star reviews for The Hobbit.)

But Andy Serkis as a narrator of this book surpasses himself. His minute details in characterisation, for everyone from Bilbo and Gandalf, to Smaug, and of course the Gollum we all know and love, are an absolute delight. This is the unabridged version of the book, so we're looking at plus minus 10 hours of entertainment, and I'm beginning to wonder if Peter Jackson shouldn't have just stuck to the plot instead of his mangling of the film adaption of the book. Because yes, there is enough content for three movies here, if you look hard enough. 

This is most certainly one of my audiobook highlights of the year, and I cannot recommend it enough. Serkis is an absolute treasure and he has without a doubt done justice to JRR Tolkien's legacy with his reading.

The Sundering by Jacqueline Carey

Unless you’re a Tolkien fan, I don’t recommend going into Jacqueline Carey’s duology The Sundering unless you’re aware that she’s going to take the tropes we all know and love so much, and twist them on their heads. I can see what she’s doing. I was prepared for it. This book is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, especially not if they’ve read and enjoyed her other works which are a totally different breed of novel (lush, textured, sensual).

The premise is simple: Take the tropes of The Lord of the Rings, and write a story told from the losing side; subvert readers’ expectations. This is not happy epic nor is it a comfortable read, especially for those accustomed to fantasy where the good and evil are easy to identify. By the time I was finished with both books, I was rooting for those who’d traditionally be considered evil, and yet by equal measure I *felt* for those who saw themselves in the right. And oh, did I feel sorry for them for being so ideologically possessed. I suppose there’s a lesson to be had here.

All the standard tropes are present, but instead of mindless monsters, our orcs/fjel are portrayed as possessing sensitivity (and they make art!). The elves are stuffy, obsessed with things staying the same. The humans are…well… Humans do what it is they always do. The glimpse we do get of dwarves breaks the mould in terms of them being ore-digging smiths. Rather they are nature-loving, tree-hugging pacifists. And yes, there are dragons (Carey *gets* dragons). Mix this all together with the quest of the Bearer, who must carry the Water of Life that quenches the marrow fire that protects the only weapon that can kill gods, as well as adding one meddlesome wizard and a sorceress who gets tangled in the affairs, and you’ve got your plot.

There’s more to this story than merely good vs. bad. The heart of the tale investigates the notion that viewpoint matters, and once you ascribe justifiable motivation to any cause, it lends weight to the outcome. In this case, the meta story would be the war between stasis and dynamic change. And it’s an open-ended story that echoes Tolkien’s Last Alliance of Elves and Men, which unashamedly sets up the stage for what could have been a follow-up.

My feelings on this duology are complex. Yes, I enjoyed it. I wouldn’t recommend it to all fantasy readers, as the style Carey aims for here is closer to Tolkien’s, so if you don’t like Tolkien, just don’t go here – you may find the narrative dry and the characters unlikeable. Especially in terms of modern conventions, this feels like older, classical fantasy told in third person verging on omniscient. (Which incidentally is difficult to get right, but Carey manages this well.) But I can see what she’s done here. And I applaud her for being subversive, and would even offer her a GrimDark badge of honour for this work.

Perilous and Fair: Women in the Works and Life of JRR Tolkien

I honestly have no idea who put me onto Perilous and Fair: Women in the Works and Life of JRR Tolkien (edited by Janet Brennan Croft and Leslie A Donovan) but it's proved to be one of my reading highlights for the year so far. If you're reading this review right now, thank you.

Those who know me well, will know that JRR Tolkien has always been my first love in fantasy, so to delve into this selection of essays that re-examines the role of women in the works was an absolute treat.

Everyone who's read The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings will know that there aren't that many female characters central to the story. We have Arwen, Eowyn, the lady Galadriel... And unless you've read the Silmarillion, you most likely won't pull up that many more names for female characters in Middle-earth.

I believe the selection of essays in Perilous and Fair, however, redeems Tolkien to a large extent. While the three primary characters I've mentioned are not front and centre in terms of the narrative in the novels, they are, however, not without agency, and each is examined, along with others, such as Lúthien Tinúviel, in terms of their power, and especially how male and female power differ and complement each other in Tolkien's Middle-earth.

Through this collection of essays, I've also come to see Tolkien himself in a different light – as a man who though a product of his time and environment, was nonetheless quite progressive in terms of his attitudes towards women (and their education) when compared to peers such as CS Lewis.

A nice touch was also the acknowledgement of the transformative aspects of fanfiction, and its contribution to the fandom as a whole – and a re-envisioning of the world from the perspectives of a woman's experiences within the setting.

Ten of the Best – Top Reads for 2015

I’m a bit late with my “best of” reading list for 2015, but hey, it’s better late than never. Sadly I don’t get as much time to read as I used to before I went freelance, but then some things can’t be helped. What you’ll get here is a mix of books that are both old and new, because I’m a firm believer that we *do* need talk about older titles. So, here, in alphabetical order, are my top ten reads for the year, accompanied by extracts from my reviews, many of which appeared in the Pretoria News and on my blog.

Allegiance by Beth Bernobich hit all the marks for me with a well-defined, diverse cast. This the third of her River of Souls fantasy trilogy filled with intrigue, magic and adventure. More than that I won't say. Ilse and Raul are most certainly unforgettable, and if you're looking for a richly textured, gradually unfolding saga, then this is the sort of tale that harks back to the classics.

Not only am I drawn to her writing because of her solid worldbuilding, but also because she has created a society where there is less division between the roles played by men and women, and also a fluidity of sexuality. Women are soldiers, they can take on positions of power, and it doesn’t matter who you love. What else I adored was the fact that Bernobich breaks away from the Eurocentricism still prevalent in contemporary fantasy, to gift us with a saga that is distinctly Eastern in flavour without being heavy handed. – an extract from my review.

Beastkeeper by Cat Hellisen is another story that gave me the shivers. Cat has been one of my guiding lights and her writing is lush, nuanced and immersive. In Beastkeeper she retells "Beauty and the Beast", but from the point of Sarah, a lonely child whose parents have separated. She is sent to live with her remote grandmother, and discovers that her family harbours many secrets.

As always, Hellisen seems to effortlessly touch on the universality of fairy tales to delve even deeper and bring up underlying themes. One one level, this is a children’s quest to break a curse. On another, it’s a parable of how twisted love has soured to hate and indifference, and how one young person can find it in herself to step outside the trap of a destructive cycle. This is a dark, painful and elegant tale, made all the more beautiful, because Hellisen weaves with mystery and doesn’t hand over all the answers on a plate.

Blood Song by Anthony Ryan is book one of his Raven's Shadow trilogy, and has been one of my new discoveries in fantasy, and I've been gushing like a complete fangrrrl to anyone who's been within earshot. Anthony is an example of where self-publishing can lead to greater things, and this is coming-of-age story turns into a military fantasy that rubs shoulders with a fair amount of adventure and derring-do.

Ryan is relentless in what he has his characters endure, and the results are hardly convenient or tidy (as one can expect in an authentic setting). Expect bloodshed, violence and much death. Vaelin is a complex character whose actions aren’t always kind, but he is consistent in his logic, and I couldn’t help but admire him, even if I did not always agree with his decisions.

Dragon Age: The World of Thedas Volume 1 by David Gaider, Ben Gelinas, Mike Laidlaw and Dave Marshall (editor) was oh so worth the effort of giving my money to BioWare (as I seem to be wont to do of late). I'm a huge fan of the game, not only because it's what I term as a fantasy RPG for Generation X, but because hells, the lore. So. Much. Lore. I'm a lore junkie. Also, this is just a really, really pretty book. And I'm unashamedly a fangrrrl.

I've yet to write a full review, but if you're a collector of stuff to fulfil your inner geekness, this lovely hardcover book is what you need. The illustrations are beautiful and many of those little snippets of tomes and manuscripts that you encounter in-game are replicated here, along with other fascinating bits about the different nations, their people and its history.

Radiance by Grace Draven was one of those rare situations where Amazon made a recommendation that actually hit the mark – she's pegged as being somewhere along the lines of Jacqueline Carey and Storm Constantine (which is the equivalent of catnip for me). This is dark fantasy with a romantic spin, where we have a day/night type relationship. Two young people, Brishen (of the Kai people) and Ildiko (human) have an arranged marriage to solidify the political relations between their people. They weren't supposed to fall in love too... But they did. I eagerly await book two of the Wraith Kings.

This book is sweet, but it’s not without its claws. The non-human race portrayed in this book (the Kai) are not cuddly, and their actions are quite bloody at times. They also make a lovely shift from vampires, elves or angels (I’d peg them as somewhat toothy, predatorial elves that don’t like going out during the day.) The human Ildiko may be soft and gentle on the outside but she has nerves of steel, and adapts quickly to her new people. By the end of the book, she’s a force to be reckoned with – while retaining her feminine qualities.

Sirkus Boere by Sonja Loots is one of two Afrikaans books I read during 2015. Yes, I know I'm terrible that I hardly if ever read anything written in my mother tongue but then again, there's a dearth of fantasy fiction in Afrikaans. Sirkus Boere was set reading for my varsity module, but I enjoyed it anyway because Sonja's writing is oh so clever and the topic (the Anglo-Boer War) fascinates me.

There are plenty of subtexts here. Mainly we deal with four main characters who're each trying to deal with the trauma of what they've lost during the war. Three of them get dragged off to be performers in a spectacle arranged by a circus showman. There's plenty of discussion about racism, colonialism, and how one overcomes the past. Do you embrace it? Walk away from it? Allow it to eat you up and paralyse you? What stories do you tell about your past?

The Children of Húrin by JRR Tolkien is one of those must-reads that has been languishing on my TBR pile for too long – until 2015, that is. In his usual fine, style, Tolkien takes the template for an ancient European myth and recasts it within Middle-earth. I am completely unashamedly a huge Tolkien fan. I am also aware that his writing is not perfect. But he's been part of my journey as reader and author since I was first able to read. Allow me this indulgence.

PS, if you’re emotionally correct and easily upset by bad stuff that happens to good people, go read about unicorns pooping rainbows. This book will make you very, very angry and you’ll probably ask for it to be banned from your library.

The Diving by Helen Walne is another of those books that doesn't full within my usual purview, but because it's my policy to read outside of my chosen genres from time to time, and because this one really hit me in all the feels, it deserves its spot here. I've been somewhat of a huge Helen Walne fan for years, and really enjoy her weekly columns in the Cape Argus. I also had fangrrrl moments whenever I bumped into her in the corridors of Independent Newspapers while I was still employed there. I mean, really – I had to stop myself from tripping over my tongue and telling her in a rush of words how fabulous I think she is.

Helen’s observations are poignant and heartfelt – and she evokes her environment and the people who populate it with great vividness. In places, her signature humour is evident, tempered by her sorrow but redolent with incredible depth of feeling. This is not an easy book to read, because you know from the start what you’re in for, but as a personal account of those struggling in the aftermath of a suicide, it is rich in love despite the pain. And yes, the all-important letting go.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison is a standalone fantasy (which is good news for those of you who're positively exhausted by all the trilogies and series out there). When a friend whose opinion I respect and whose good taste in literature I trust implicitly told me in no uncertain terms that I would enjoy this book, I went and bought it. I wasn't disappointed. Yes, it's a slow-moving courtly intrigue kinda tale, but I loved Maia's wide-eyed horror as he learns how to become an emperor immensely. Oh, yes, and elves and goblins. That is all.

This is not a fast-moving novel by any measure. Katherine Addison’s prose is detailed and textured, and at times the array of names for people and places is bewildering (and possibly intentionally so, to create a sense of disorientation that Maia might feel at his situation). Yet the story is compelling, down to the last chapter, to be savoured for the rich world building and the slow weave of power play. The Goblin Emperor’s awarding of the 2015 Locus Award for “Best Fantasy Novel” is well deserved.

Whispers of the World that Was by ES Wynn is a Wraeththu Mythos novel. Fans of dark fantasy and who've had their brush with Storm Constantine's worlds will not be disappointed. ES Wynn is a gifted author whose style reminds me a lot of Steve-and-Ghost era Poppy Z Brite. Oh, and don't read this book while you're hungry either.

While those who’ve read the Chronicles and Histories will certainly get some of the more obscure canon references in Whispers of the World that Was, this knowledge is not a prerequisite, primarily because Tyse himself is largely ignorant of what it entails to be Wraeththu. All in all, this is a satisfying read, and a worthy addition to an established fantasy mythos that deviates from standard visions involving dragons, mages and elves.

While I welcome queries from authors and publishers seeking reviews (and I take pride in the fact that I will accept requests from self-published authors and small presses) my reading time at present is severely curtailed due to me having gone full time as a freelance designer and editor. I currently have a huge backlog and will therefore be incredibly picky about which books I accept. Please *do* read my review policy. Potential editing clients are also welcome to email me at nerinedorman@gmail.com – I am happy to provide a five-page sample, and offer a range of services, including proofing, manuscript assessment and developmental edits.

The Children of Húrin by JRR Tolkien #review

Title: The Children of Húrin
Author: JRR Tolkien
Edited by: Christopher Tolkien
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers, 2008

There’s a reason why I keep going back to Tolkien when I end up discussing the fantasy genre or even just how to approach the creation of epic worlds. Not to say that Tolkien was the first (because he had precursors who’re rarely, if ever mentioned), but he was most definitely the first in the genre to gain legendary status (and now has JK Rowling snapping on his heels).

Though by contemporary standards, I argue that Tolkien is not for everyone – his style is rather dry, patriarchal even – and it’s clear that this is a man who was obsessed with world-building rather than characterisation. While The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings appear to be perennial favourites with legions of new readers each generation, Tolkien’s other works are perhaps left for the die-hard fans.

The Silmarillion is a prime example. I butted heads with it during my teens when I’d just finished my first immersion into The Lord of the Rings. I hated it. Didn’t finish it. I went back to it years later, and was absolutely blown away – not by the writing so much – but by the sheer mass of imagination. The scary thing was realising that the events that transpired in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings were only a thin sliver of Tolkien’s entire creation, now that was astounding.

And I found myself wishing that he had gone on to write more, because what we’re left with is but a skeleton.

It’s taken me years to read The Children of Húrin. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew it wouldn’t be an easy path to tread. Tolkien makes you work for it – the language usage is more akin to sitting at the fireside listening to an old storyteller recount a saga than the immersiveness of current authors such as Mark Lawrence, George RR Martin or Robin Hobb.

Having recently completed a university course on Greek mythology, I can draw parallels between that and how Tolkien approached The Children of Húrin. This is not a comfortable story. The heroes are tragic, flawed. Túrin’s hubris results in his inevitable downfall, and his victory against Glaurung is pyrrhic. The dragon itself is but a dark mirror, reflecting a twisted truth that paralyses heroes. Ophelia-like, Niënor is flotsam, cast adrift in a dark tide; though her love is pure, it is misdirected. I saw the greater tragedy approach from a distance, and could do little more than wait for the ultimate wrapping up of cruelties.

There is little that is noble about any of the characters in this story. Even the elves are cast in such a way to show that they too suffer through their excessive pride – something that the dread Morgoth doesn't hesitate to exploit. The antagonist is but the catalyst around which the others trip and fall, however for those who have distance from the situation, it is easy to make a judgment call.

If you’re a die-hard Tolkien fan, like me, and you’re yet to read The Children of Húrin, I’ll fully recommend it. It’s not quite as heavy going as The Silmarillion, and it’s going to fill in a good few gaps in your fantasy geekdom. As a template of epic tragedy, this one’s got it all. At time of writing (a week since completing my read-through), I’m still smarting and bruised. And feeling as dissatisfied and annoyed as I was at the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition. And I’ll read this one again. And again. Because: elves, dragons, beautiful worlds, sadness and tragedy.

PS, if you’re emotionally correct and easily upset by bad stuff that happens to good people, go read about unicorns pooping rainbows. This book will make you very, very angry and you’ll probably ask for it to be banned from your library.