“The Hobbit is epic fantasy from Tolkien and one of the best known books in the world.”
NO MAJOR SPOILERS
“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.”
The Hobbit is one of the rare books I’ve been avoiding all my life. I have memories of playing at my best friend’s house while her brothers watched the 1977 The Hobbit cartoon, and I felt very strange and scared, and a little grossed out (though, to this day, I maintain that Bilbo Baggins is the single best name for a dog in existence). Then Lord of the Rings came out when I was in High School and I hated those movies more than words could express. My husband convinced me to watch them again two years ago, and I actually really enjoyed them and looked forward to them.
Being a voracious reader, I felt it was almost a duty to read The Hobbit. I’d be cheating if I never read J.R.R. Tolkien. So, with trepidation I began The Hobbit. Now, after reading it, I wonder what took (haha—Took! A little hobbit pun) me so long.