You'll Find Few Fish Flicks to Top Finding Nemo

Cinematically speaking, 2003 was all about one thing for me: the 12-month-long hiatus between The Two Towers and The Return of the King. Fortunately, there were a few films throughout the year that helped keep my mind off the wait. Second-hand Lions, featuring the formidable triple-threat of Haley Joel Osment, Robert Duvall and Michael Caine. From Justin to Kelly, by the sheer virtue of negative comparison. And then there was a little flick by the name of Finding Nemo…

I’m an unabashed Disney enthusiast, though I’ve tended to find the quality of their recent output largely unpredictable. I can no longer assume that I will enjoy most of the movies that bear the Disney label. Disney / Pixar, however, is another matter. This is a glorious collaboration that unfortunately is coming to an end after a string of masterpieces. When Toy Story first hit the theaters, computer animation as it was utilized in the film was a novel concept. By last year, audiences were fairly used to the medium, but Finding Nemo presented the most gloriously eye-catching animation yet. As one friend of mine put it, the film was visually very “pleasing.” All that ultramarine water through which the movie’s brightly-colored inhabitants traveled was just the ticket to cool off an audience wilting their way through a sweltering summer.

Finding Nemo focuses on two complementary quests: little clownfish Nemo’s (Alexander Gould) efforts to escape from the aquarium in the office of the dentist who swiped him from the ocean and his father Marlin’s (Albert Brooks) journey, aided and hindered by the forgetful blue tang Dory (Ellen Degeneres), to get his son back. Because Nemo is the lone survivor of a predatory attack that killed his hundreds of unborn siblings and his mother, he bears the distinguishing mark of an undersized fin. While this gives the neurotically protective Marlin another reason to fret about his son’s fragility, it only serves as an obstacle for Nemo to overcome.

After his first attempt to prove his courage landed him in the aquarium, Nemo must rely on his resourcefulness and his new friends to help get him out again. Among his colorful companions: Gill (Willem Dafoe), moorish idol with scars recalling his days out in the ocean; Gurgle (Austin Pendleton), a gramma obsessed with cleanliness; Peach (Allison Janney), a starfish who serves as tank lookout; Bubbles (Stephen Root), a yellow tang in love with the aquarium’s bubbles; Jacques (John Ranft), a shrimp who makes it his business to clean everything in the tank, including his companions; Bloat (Brad Garrett), a puffer fish who has a tendency to expand into a sphere when he’s stressed out; and Deb (Vicki Lewis), a damselfish who believes her reflection in the aquarium glass is actually a twin sister named Flo.

The tank is a pleasant enough place on the whole, but Nemo misses home. His desire to leave is lent urgency when the fish discover the dentist, a man who comes across as decent enough but dim-witted, announces his intention to present Nemo as a birthday present to his niece, who is notorious for shaking her previous pets to death. Led by Gill and aided by Nigel (Geoffrey Rush), a bumbling but magnanimous pelican willing to help any creature in need, as long as it isn’t a seagull, he plots a daring escape.

But the main storyline involves the quest of Marlin and Dory. Together, the wimpy clownfish and ever-bubbly tang encounter a number of frightening situations. They find themselves in the company of a group of sharks, led by the charming Bruce (Barry Humphries), who have difficulty abiding by their encouraging mantra of “Fish are friends, not food.” They are lured into the clutches of a grotesque bottom feeder. They must cross a stretch full of jellyfish after failing to follow the advice of a school of silver fish, whose leader is voiced by Pixar regular John Ratzenberger. They fall in with a group of turtles whose easy-going leader, Crush (Andrew Stanton), teaches Marlin something about letting go. They even make the useful acquaintance of a whale, thanks to Dory’s hitherto unknown linguistic talents. Their adventures are perilous, but there is always enough humor to balance out any overriding sense of danger. Degeneres is the standout cast member here; she makes Dory an incredibly likable and memorable character who provides most of the film’s biggest laughs. Her unlikely partnership with Marlin is very touching.

Finding Nemo broke box office records and became the most celebrated movie of the summer. The film lent itself especially well to the big screen, where its bright palette of colors could be best appreciated. But the story is just as charming and the animation just as superb on a television screen. While the adventure and colorful characters enthrall children, clever dialogue reels in the adults, making it a film to be celebrated and cherished by people of all ages. It’s just a shame the partnership is coming to an end…

A Treat for Young Musicians Everywhere

The Remarkable Farkle McBride is John Lithgow’s first book and first collaboration with C. F. Payne. Although I’d heard of it, I just read it for the first time yesterday. I enjoy Lithgow’s style very much, so I would like to read all of his books, but Farkle particularly intrigued me because Payne did the illustrations. Lithgow has written five books, but Payne has worked with him on only two. This story concerns a young boy named Farkle whose prodigious musical talents leave him unsatisfied with each of the instruments he masters.

The narrative style of Farkle is similar to that of Micawber, the first Lithgow book I read. Lithgow creates an aurally appealing story with a recurring pattern of rhyme. Most of the book features a 3-page cycle: Farkle picks up a new instrument (ABAB), Farkle plays the instrument (AAA (musical sounds) BAAAB), Farkle discards the instrument (ABAAAB). Although it includes a few upper-level words – prodigy, beseeching, rhapsodical, notwithstanding - for the most part the vocabulary is fairly simple. I would say that this easier, more predictable narration places this book toward the lower end of the picture book age range, while Micawber is geared toward the higher. Both books have a slightly PBS-ish quality about them, trying to get children interested in art and music. Another of his books involves the American Museum of Natural History, while the other two feature two unusual animals: a kangaroo and a manatee. Lithgow’s passion for entertaining seems to be coupled with a passion for education.

Payne’s illustrations are enjoyable and entertaining, though Farkle isn’t nearly as cute as Micawber. I suppose I’m prejudiced, though… He’s actually a rather odd-looking boy, who is somewhat reminiscent of Alfred P. Neuman, particularly in his cover appearance. His head often seems disproportionately large, but maybe that is supposed to be a visual nod to his genius. Up until the last few pages, each two-page spread contains a picture on one side and text, with a backdrop of musical notes, on the other. Payne captures Farkle’s endearing mix of dedication to his instrument and frustration with its insufficiency. His exasperated tantrums remind us that in spite of his talent, he’s still just a kid.

Instruments appear on each page, and when Farkle is playing, he seems to be in perfect concert with those around him. Not only do we see him playing with the orchestra, we see a bird sing along with his flute and a butterfly perch on his trombone. I love the perplexed expression on the family dog’s face as it inspects Farkle’s smashed violin and the sad open mouths of the fish that welcome Farkle’s flute to the bottom of the lake. The illustrations are rich and detailed, a perfect combination of astonishing realism and amusing caricature. Farkle in general seems to grow more cartoonish in his looks as the book progresses.

Although I did not enjoy it quite as much as Micawber, I nonetheless found Farkle to be a story of high quality and both educational and entertainment value. I hope these two collaborate again. I would recommend Farkle for younger children, particularly those interested in music. They may find inspiration in a reflection of themselves – let’s just hope it doesn’t inspire anyone to smash their violin!

Bubba Gump's Knows Everything There Is To Know About the Shrimpin' Business...

When I went to Chicago for a visit with two friends of mine, one of the stops we intended to make was to Bubba Gump Shrimp Restaurant and Market. Though we passed the restaurant the day before when we spent the afternoon at Navy Pier, we saved this unique dining experience for our last excursion on the trip. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t get a picture of the exterior; I intended to, but it was too crowded at the time for me to get a good shot of anything. While there is a large dining area inside, the tables out on the pier are ideally located for a nice summer day. Benches adorned with Forrest’s sayings create a nice effect. On the inside, the restaurant is filled with memorabilia and has Forrest Gump playing constantly.

The menus feature photos and quotes from the film and food related to the characters. I got the Bucket of Boat Trash, a combination of shrimp, lobster and fish alluding to a scene at the beginning of Forrest’s shrimping career, and a Run Forrest Run, a smoothie consisting of oranges, strawberries, bananas and raspberry frozen yogurt. Other themed menu items included Mama Gump's Garlic Bread Basket; the Run Across America platter featuring Bubba's Far Out Dip (with spinach, roasted red pepper, artichokes, shrimp and Monterey Jack cheese) and Chips, Chilly Shrimp (peel and eat southern-style shrimp), Greenbow Tenders (Cajun chicken strips with blue cheese sauce) and Mama Blue's Fried shrimp; Jenny's Favorite, a smoothie with cranberry juice, strawberries and raspberry frozen yogurt; the Alabama Sweet Smoothie, made of peanut butter, chocolate and vanilla frozen yogurt; a variety of shrimp options from Shrimp Shack Pasta to Dumb Luck Coconut Shrimp; Gumpberry Cobbler, consisting of seasonal berries and apples with ice cream, drizzled with raspberry sauce and walnut cookie crumbs; and Forrest's Dr. Pepper Float, in deference to Forrest's favorite beverage.

The food was delicious, and as we ate we looked around at the decor and were entertained by our waiter, a very affable fellow who quizzed us on Forrest trivia whenever he stopped at our table. How frequently he stopped was up to us. We were provided with two license plates; most of the time we kept the “Run Forrest Run” plate in view, but if we needed anything we switched to “Stop Forrest Stop.” It was a simple touch but added to the fun of the meal.

It’s a shame Bubba Gump doesn’t have more locations. I would love to go there with my family sometime. The high-quality fare makes it worthwhile for any seafood lover, while the restaurant’s theme is a special treat for fans of the film. Forrest Gump is one of my favorite movies, so I found it doubly enjoyable. This isn’t a place where you would dine frequently, but it’s a fun novelty restaurant along the lines of Hard Rock Cafe or Planet Hollywood, just with a narrower focus. Prices, while not unreasonable, are a bit hefty, and if you do go you’ll probably want to take home a reminder of your trip. I purchased a t-shirt featuring cartoonish renditions of moments from the movie. A variety of “Gump gear” is available, from t-shirts and glasses to playing cards and stationery.

Bubba Gump’s is now in nearly 20 locations – none of which, oddly enough, are in Alabama. If you happen to be in the vicinity of a Bubba Gump’s, I would certainly recommend stopping there for a leisurely lunch or dinner, particularly if you are a Forrest Gump enthusiast. The Chicago branch is open from 11 am to 11 pm Sunday through Thursday and an hour longer Friday and Saturday, though hours vary. The restaurant offers an opportunity to bring a piece of cinema to life in a most delicious manner.

Graphic Novel Paints a Beautiful But Painful Picture

I’m expanding my literary horizons. Or so I’d like to think. The truth is, although I’ve always been a bookworm, I haven’t been much of a voracious reader lately, so when two of my friends suggested I read the book Blankets, which they and two other friends had already read in the space of three weeks courtesy of the library, I agreed less because it was a graphic novel than because it was something. Books fill the hallway, spilling off of the shelves that cover the walls, and it takes somebody else’s library book to get me to sit down and read…

Still, the fact that it was a graphic novel intrigued me. I’d first encountered the term when reading about Road to Perdition. When I saw the Tom Hanks film was based on a graphic novel, I figured that meant it included liberal doses of the sorts of scenes I generally try to avoid. As it turned out, that description would have been entirely applicable, but by proper definition a graphic novel is written in comic book format and driven as much by the pictures as the words. When I began working at Waldenbooks, I noticed teenagers gravitating toward a particular type of graphic novel: Manga. I recently confessed my lack of familiarity with Manga to a new co-worker who cited an appreciation for the books. I admitted the thought of reading a book from back to front rather intimidated me, and he suggested I begin with Tokyo Pop, which publishes Manga-style books that read from front to back. Just two days later my friends placed this book in my hands, and while it is not Manga, having read it may prove an effective intermediate step. Or perhaps not. But even if I never read another graphic novel, Blankets was well worth the time it took me to read it.

Author and artist Craig Thompson relates a deeply personal account of his youth, focusing largely on his relationships with two particular people. Much of the novel relays events occurring when the author was in third grade, and most of these scenes involve Craig’s little brother, Phil. The two bicker incessantly, and yet there is such closeness between them that the gift of separate bedrooms becomes more a burden than a blessing to them. They would rather wrestle over the blankets than lie alone in the dark.

The scenes taking place late in Craig’s high school career revolve around Raia, a lovely young woman he meets at Bible camp, corresponds with regularly, and visits for two weeks. During that time he gains valuable insights into his relationship with Phil by observing Raia’s interactions with Ben and Laura, her devoted developmentally disabled siblings, and grows simultaneously closer to and more distant from the girl he has come to love. Blankets tells that almost necessarily bittersweet tale of first love, running its course from exhilaration to obliteration. Perhaps most fundamentally, it is a novel – perhaps memoir is a more appropriate word – about change and the cruel domination of time, a book born of the same authorial anguish that drove the 21-year-old Paul Simon to pen the worrisome words of Leaves That Are Green. “Time hurries on, and the leaves that are green turn to brown.” All that is good must fade.

For Craig, and for most who must endure the trials of growing up, this means losses on many levels. A loss of innocence. A loss of brotherly comradeship. A loss of love. A loss of faith. Religion plays a major role in Blankets, as Craig grew up in a very religious home and spent most of his childhood surrounded by fundamentalist Christians. He feels a strong sense of spirituality, a powerful call to do God’s will, but the cruelty and hypocrisy he witnesses in his fellow Christians gradually gnaws away at him, leaving him with a profound emptiness.

As I read through Blankets, I was struck by Craig’s similarity to my youngest brother. Not only did I find them physically similar, particularly in the teenage scenes, but Craig’s personality and interests are very much in tune with my brother’s. As brooding artists who tend to prefer solitude and rather like being considered oddities, I think the two would get along very well. Craig’s artistry is impressive. I was disappointed at first to discover that the book was all in black and white, but he manages to be very expressive without a wide color palette. The prominence of snow in the book sets up an interesting contrast. Many of the scenes are physically white, but there is a psychological darkness to much of the book. Craig details very dark times, and in spite of the fact that his childhood was often traumatized, his toughest trials come when he reaches the threshold between childhood and adulthood and must cross it.

Before they handed the book off to me, my friends warned me that Blankets had a few scenes that could be considered objectionable. I assured them that my college English courses had desensitized me to literary occurrences I would have found shocking in high school. Blankets does have its share of R-rated moments, from occasional strong profanity to molestation by a babysitter, but nothing that prevented me from enjoying the book. Although much of the book features Craig as a young child, I think Blankets is best reserved for those old enough to identify with the teenage Craig as well. I must admit that I felt rather depressed after I finished reading it, but I admire the author’s integrity and courage to bare his soul so honestly. His struggles with growing up resonated with me, even though my childhood bears little resemblance to his. In bemoaning the ravages of time, he celebrates life and the sacredness of each moment, making Blankets a coming of age tale to treasure.

It's Got Questions, You've Got Answers

When I was on the phone with a friend of mine last week and, as is not unusual for a shoddy conversationalist like myself, running out of things to say, I happened to recall a book that had kept my best friend and me entertained throughout several get-togethers in middle school. It was a book we had first encountered in guidance class, when the teacher used its contents to provoke discussions. I have no idea how I happened to get my hands on it, but it was one of those school discoveries, like the game Play It By Ear, that became a sleepover staple. On a whim, I ventured out into the bookshelf-lined hallway, and lo and behold, there it was: The Kids’ Book of Questions. Filled with 260 questions intended to inspire thought and conversation, this handy little book kept us talking for another couple hours, with plenty of other questions left for another day.

Written by Dr. Gregory Stock, this book presents open-ended questions intended particularly for a juvenile reader base. Looking through the book again this time, I discovered that it followed a bestselling book simply entitled The Book of Questions. I was unaware of that book’s existence, but now I might have to see if I can find it. I can use all the conversation starters I can get. Unfortunately, because this book is geared towards kids, many of the questions don’t apply very well to adults. Many of the queries have to do with parents, teachers and “grown-ups” in general, often setting up a contrast between these people and whoever is answering the questions. Questions such as “What is your ideal bedtime?” and “What would you do if you woke up and had been magically changed into an adult?” are pretty irrelevant for a 23-year-old, but most of the questions can be altered in such a way that they suit adults as well as children. For the rest, I can just answer in retrospect.

But this book of questions was written specifically with children in mind, and for that age group the queries are especially meaningful. Some are light-hearted, while others demand more serious answers. Topics range from bullies, fears and career aspirations to censorship, religion and the perks of being an adult. Some of the more off-the-wall questions:

* If you went to the beach and discovered people there were swimming nude, would want to stay and watch or leave?
* Would you go to the mall with your dad if he dyed his hair green or would you be too embarrassed?
* If a rich kid wanted to buy your parents, how much would you ask for them if you were willing to sell them?
* If you could pick an age to be for your whole life, what age would you pick?
* If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do?

This book is not memorable for what it contains but for the aftermath of reading those questions. Great for a class or a one-on-one discussion, The Kids’ Book of Questions is a sure-fire way to get even the most reluctant conversationalist talking.

Lithgow and Payne Set the Stage for a Squirrely Good Time

I love squirrels. I’ve spent leisurely mornings at my grandparents’ house gazing out their sliding back door at the squirrels scampering through the trees and fighting over space in the birdfeeder. I’ve accompanied my dad on the four-hour drive to his faculty senate meetings in State College just so I could spend the hour or so during his meeting outside tossing peanuts to the insatiable rodents, which are so used to people in that location that they sometimes take nuts right out of my hand. I’ve been the proud but frustrated owner of a squirrel feeder since middle school. For some reason the bushy-tailed bandits don’t like to venture into our yard; it may have something to do with the cats…

At any rate, I am magnetically drawn to these critters, so when I first spotted Micawber, John Lithgow’s delightful tale of an artistically inclined squirrel, I was enchanted. At the time, my only familiarity with Lithgow was as an actor, and I wondered whether his authorship had more to do with the perks of his fame than any particular writing talent. My fears were immediately allayed as I settled into the cadence of his cleverly rhymed story. I have always been a fan of books in rhyme, and Lithgow has particular skill for this brand of writing. He begins with a simple ABAB scheme, which he works from throughout the remainder of the tale, expanding it when appropriate. There is a musical quality to his lines, their intricate internal rhymes, alliteration and rhythm providing a feast for the ears to match the visual glory of the illustrations.

Authors such as J. K. Rowling refuse to shy away from the use of advanced verbiage in writing intended for children; Lemony Snicket even manages to work in overt vocabulary lessons in his Series of Unfortunate Events. Despite the brevity of this book and its placement in the young children’s section of the bookstore, its lexicon is befitting a book concerning itself with the fine arts. Delicious terminology leaps out from the page, some of which I’d never even encountered before. Rare is the picture book that will incorporate such words as appraise, scrutinize, beguiler, cadmium, vermillion, alizarin, transom and the incomparable peregrination, not to mention the squirrel’s unusual nomenclature.

C. F. Payne’s delightful artwork has graced the back page of Reader’s Digest for months, and his engaging blend of detail, emotion and humor brings to mind Norman Rockwell. The comparison is especially appropriate here, as the book’s final image is a brilliant parody of Rockwell’s famous self-portrait, with Micawber peeking at his reflection in the mirror, glasses and all. Payne has a knack for capturing ordinary moments with extraordinary splendor, and Micawber springs to life under his worthy hand. The squirrel’s bright eyes and beguiling face grace the cover, his paint-dipped tail providing a clue as to the direction the book will take.

Several two-page spreads feature a full-page illustration facing a white page containing only a few lines of text and several spatters of paint. Micawber appears in every picture, though it is sometimes hard to spot him, sneak that he is. We watch as his eyes light up with inspiration after witnessing a local artist imitate the works in the art museum he loves. His innate sense of mischief is most perfectly displayed towards the middle of the book, when he discovers color. His hands clasped together gleefully, face set in a slightly demonic smile, he surveys the results of squeezing several tubes of paint onto a waiting palette. Payne also charmingly captures the oblivious nature of his benefactor, a bespectacled woman with plenty of art supplies to spare.

This book sold me on Lithgow and Payne. Their combined talents create one of the most beguiling books I have encountered recently, and I commend them both. Micawber is sure to delight rabid squirrel fans like myself and appreciators of fine art, but its witty style and lavish illustrations are sure to draw in fans from all walks of life.

Return a Glorious Conglomeration of Triumph and Tragedy

The Return of the King is both the shortest and the longest installment of The Lord of the Rings. Although it contains the fewest pages of narration, it includes upwards of a hundred pages of appendices. These informational additions deal mainly with history and language, and while they are illuminating, they’re also pretty dry. For the most part, they read like a textbook. The most interesting histories, at least for me, involve the further exploits of characters who play a major role in Lord of the Rings. Following the appendices are four indexes, each of which is quite handy.

But it’s the story that I’m really interested in, and Tolkien brings us into it right away – though, frustratingly, he again leaves us to wonder for half the book what Frodo and Sam are up to. This is particularly disheartening in Return, as Two Towers leaves them in such a dire situation. The first part of Return is filled with grand battles against fierce enemies. It seems that while Frodo and Sam are quietly inching their way toward Mount Doom, the rest of the world is engaged in a fierce cosmic conflict. The discouraging truth is that no matter how valiantly Gandalf, Aragorn and the rest hold back the enemy, they cannot defeat it. The fate of the Middle-earth rests in the hands of two hobbits… and, perhaps, a third.

Return finds the steadfast pairs of Merry and Pippin and Frodo and Sam split up for the first time in their quest. This separation is grueling but in three out of four cases allows them to discover untapped reserves of valor. Pippin finds himself in the service of Denethor, degenerate steward of Gondor, and bonds with Beregond, one of the guards. When Denethor’s addled wits lead him to order the immolation of himself and his son, Faramir, Pippin must depend upon his own sense of discernment and his newfound friend in order to save Faramir. Merry pledges himself to a gentler monarch, the fatherly Theoden, and obtains the unexpected assistance of a mysterious soldier named Dernhelm when his lord forbids him to prove his loyalty in battle.

Sam now emerges as the true hero of the book, the one who must somehow rescue his master and sustain him through the treacherous trek to Mount Doom. He remains the least changed of the four companions, yet he displays courage that never would have been required of him before his departure from the Shire. In the opening pages of the second part of Return, we are struck with the sense that this has become Sam’s story. This is re-affirmed later when he lovingly restores the beauty of the Shire Saruman so nearly destroyed, when he inherits the book containing the account of their quest, and when he ends the most complex of tales with the simplest of comments: “Well, I’m back.”

Although this quest belongs most fundamentally to the hobbits, most of the characters contribute in some way, whether by intention or not, to its completion. The most powerful figures for the side of good in Return are Gandalf, returned to Middle-earth for the purpose of seeing the conflict through to its conclusion, and Aragorn, who must assume his kingly role in order to lead the charge against the enemy, heal the most grievous of his comrades’ injuries and prepare for the restoration of Gondor. Gandalf’s prediction that Gollum would have some role to play yet is seen to fruition in a most unexpected manner that is equally triumphant and tragic. The quest succeeds because people are good but also because they are fallen.

Oddly enough, while the military maneuverings of Rohan and Gondor fill half the book, the all-important final leg of Frodo and Sam’s journey takes only three chapters. The most frequent complaint I heard and read about Jackson’s final film installment was that there was too much movie following the destruction of the Ring. In the book, this gradual ending makes up the greater portion of the second part of Return. Moreover, the battle is not over after the Ring is destroyed. The hobbits are heartbroken to discover their own pristine homeland tainted by Saruman’s malice, and while Frodo is too weakened to play a very active role, Merry, Pippin and Sam must purge the Shire of its evil. We also see that Frodo is most fundamentally altered by his experience, to the point that he can no longer feel at home in the Shire he sacrificed so much to save.

Return is a glorious ending to Tolkien’s masterpiece. The book ends as we think it ought to, but not entirely. Tolkien presents us with an enchanting land and shows its magic gradually slipping away, a tragic process that cannot be amended with the destruction of the Ring. Indeed, in some ways the quest’s success hastens such changes, as it robs the Elves of their ability to maintain in Middle-earth an environment suitable for their ethereality. Frodo’s departure is elegiac, a tribute to his effort but a reminder of his failure. Yet it seems a harder blow to Sam than Frodo, who always seemed a bit aloof and more deeply fond of Bilbo and Gandalf than even his faithful servant. That the three should leave together is fitting. And though the Fourth Age promises to be far less enchanting than the Third, Tolkien’s decision to leave us with Sam instills hope that many good times are yet to come.

Two Towers May Muddle Your Mind a Bit, But It's Worth It

If you loved The Hobbit, then Fellowship of the Ring is a natural progression, lengthier, more difficult, more complex than the former, but not entirely foreign. The Two Towers brings readers into new territory. I sometimes think of it as the muddle in the middle, though any muddling has only to do with my limited capacity for readerly multi-tasking. Tolkien toiled for years on this portion of his book, and it is only fitting that it is the most difficult volume for his audience to digest.

Two Towers begins shortly after the breaking of the Fellowship. Frodo and Sam have set out on their own, though Tolkien tries his readers’ wills by abandoning the Ringbearer and his faithful servant until the second part of the book. His first focus is on the small party of Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. After a wrenching scene in the opening pages in which Boromir succumbs to the fatal wounds incurred during his efforts to save Merry and Pippin, the man, the elf and the dwarf set off in hot pursuit of the hobbits, who have been captured by Orcs. Meanwhile, the hobbits manage a clever escape, only to find themselves in the foreboding Fangorn Forest, where they are soon met by Treebeard the Ent, an enormous tree-like creature whose job is to act as shepherd for the trees. It takes quite some time before these two separated parties reconvene, and when they do it is with a powerful new ally: Gandalf, returned from the abyss and given the title Gandalf the White.

In addition to the Ents, this volume introduces Theoden, the king of Rohan who has sunken so deeply into despair that he is no longer capable of ruling his country. Instead, he relies upon Wormtongue, his corrupt advisor, who is himself answerable to the wizard Saruman. We also meet Theoden’s nephew Eomer and, more importantly, his niece Eowyn, a valiant woman who quickly develops a crush on Aragorn. Tolkien also introduces us to Faramir, brother of the fallen Boromir, while bringing the character of Gollum, lurking in the background throughout Fellowship, into the forefront.

There’s an awful lot going on in this book, and the events are grander than those in Fellowship. Merry and Pippin play a part in a major battle at Isengard, Saruman’s stronghold, while the others muster their strength to battle the Orcs that have laid siege to the fortress of Helm’s Deep. When we finally get back to them, Frodo and Sam have a quieter journey to make, but no less treacherous. They reluctantly find themselves in the company of Gollum, with the untrustworthy creature acting as their guide. As Sam’s mistrust and jealousy increases, Frodo’s self-control begins to slip, and the success of the mission grows more unlikely with each passing day.

Two Towers is grim, with few reprieves in the darkness that begins to encompass the remaining members of the Fellowship. There are moments, though. I loved Merry and Pippin’s stay in Fangorn when Dad read it to me, complete with Treebeard’s deep, rumbling voice, a tribute to Tolkien’s close friend and fellow fantasy writer C. S. Lewis. He is one of Tolkien’s most unique and enjoyable characters, with his long, rambling speech and his mixture of grandfatherly charm and ageless tragedy. His agonizingly unhasty manner of speaking is as entertaining as his account of the lost Entwives is heartbreaking. There is also Gandalf’s glorious reappearance, as awe-inspiring as his apparent death was devastating.

Merry and Pippin’s characteristic levity elicits smiles throughout the first part of the book. Their ability to adapt cheerfully to dire situations – particularly when they have one another for support – is especially evident after they escape the Orcs, but perhaps their most unabashedly gleeful scenes occur upon their long-awaited reunion with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. In the second part of the book, Gollum, the agonized creature who is perhaps the most morally ambiguous of Tolkien’s characters, provides a few laughs. But while amusement at Merry and Pippin’s antics stems from their carefree camaraderie, Gollum’s utter desolation and degradation almost requires that any laughs he garners be tinged with pity. It’s difficult to determine how to react to this throwback to The Hobbit. Although he was depicted as sinister and an obstacle to Bilbo, Gollum always struck me as more pitiable than threatening. Here, he alternates between submissive and menacing – “Slinker” and “Stinker,” as Sam puts it. While he plots to reclaim the Ring, he develops some degree of devotion to the hobbit who continues to offer him mercy and understanding.

Gollum’s dynamic struggles are my favorite part of this installment. Unfortunately, his presence brings out the worst in Sam. Their food-related quarrel in Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit is amusing, but it underscores their mutual animosity. Although Sam is looking out for Frodo and much of his disdain stems from a warranted distrust of Gollum, his barely submerged envy is a large contributor to his behavior. Sam’s best moments here occur when he is separated from Gollum, particularly in the presence of the noble but initially intimidating Faramir and, at the end of the book, when he is left alone. His worst may have proven the ultimate stumbling block to Gollum’s redemption.

Two Towers is the bridge between Fellowship and Return of the King, and within its pages lie brilliant new characters and cataclysmic events. Although I would probably have to say that this second installment is my least favorite of the three, I still love it. You may struggle with it a bit more than Fellowship, but stick with it. You’ll be glad you did.

Fellowship a Fine Beginning to the Epic to End All Epics

As you may have guessed from my name, I am in fact a hobbit. At least, I like to reiterate the famous quote by Professor Tolkien, and I have always considered his first furry-footed protagonist to be my literary counterpart. I tend to think that there is more about me than people suspect. And if I could find some way to settle in the Shire, you’d better believe I would! It is through Bilbo that I found my way into Middle-earth, and The Hobbit will always occupy a sacred space in my hierarchy of beloved books. But I’ve already reviewed that tome, though it was my second review here and didn’t begin to do the book justice. One day I’ll rectify that, but for now, on to bigger and better things.

The other day I went to a local book sale and happened upon a 40-year-old paperback copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. It interested me particularly because of the warning on the back, drawn from the preface, in which Tolkien appeals to his fans to buy this edition of his book and not one of the many unauthorized versions floating around. “It seems to me a grave discourtesy, to say no more, to issue my book without even a polite note informing me of the project: dealings one might expect of Saruman in his decay rather than from the defenders of the West… Those who approve of courtesy (at least) to living authors will purchase [this paperback edition] and no other.” Tolkien’s eloquent wit here made it one of the best investments of 20 cents I’ve ever made. And why shouldn’t he have such a say in the distribution of his work? Tolkien’s accomplishment with The Lord of the Rings was monumental, and he had every right to feel possessive of it, even though Middle-earth soon grew to be a domain claimed by millions, many of whom were just as passionate about the material as the author himself.

I recently re-read Lord of the Rings, though of the three volumes, Fellowship is the only one I can in all honesty say I technically “re-read.” I read it myself in ninth grade, but with all the schoolwork surrounding me I didn’t have time to get bogged down in The Two Towers, the murky middle section that so often stumped its author. It took my dad three years to read Lord of the Rings to me. It took him two years to read The Two Towers. It was a combination of fearing the slog through this second volume and not wanting the break the sacredness of having had the book read to me by my dad that kept me from reading through the entire book until this year.

Part of the charm of Fellowship is that, in the first couple chapters, you can see its origins as sequel to The Hobbit. Initially, Bilbo is front and center, with Gandalf, that other key player from The Hobbit, also in prominence. The narration is much more detached, but there are still traces of the cozy conversational style that drove its predecessor. At first, there’s even the slight possibility that it might be Bilbo’s further adventures we are following, rather than Frodo’s. At any rate, we are dealing with hobbits, and it takes quite a while to get out of the Shire. Many readers complain that it takes too long for the book to get going, but I love the gradual departure from the hobbits’ idyllic homeland and all the enchanting opportunities it affords. Although the Nazgul first make their appearance early on, and we also are treated to the independent malevolence of Old Man Willow and the barrow wights, there’s a sense in which this doesn’t truly depart from the formula of The Hobbit until the fateful meeting more than 200 pages in with the mysterious stranger in Bree known as Strider.

Before this, we’re treated to Bilbo’s grand party in the opening chapter standing in marvelous contrast to The Unexpected Party. We’re introduced to the Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin, the four young hobbits who will play such a vital role in the epic adventure to come. We get the strange momentary peek into a fox’s thoughts as it observes the hobbits in his woods and the long dalliance at the home of the anomalous Tom Bombadil. My brother’s literature teacher complained to the class once about how stupid Lord of the Rings was; it was just about eating and taking baths. This struck me as a patently ridiculous statement, but if you don’t read any farther than Bree, it’s actually not completely off base. Nonetheless, the opening leg of the journey allows us lots of time to see the hobbits in their element and grow to love them before their camaraderie is interrupted by the inclusion of other members in the Fellowship and, eventually, circumstances that will separate them from one another for a long time.

One enjoyable aspect of Fellowship is that it is so straight-forward. We follow the same people on a journey that they make together. The number of companions grows from three to nine, but they all follow the same path and we don’t have to follow them in separate directions until The Two Towers. This makes Fellowship easily the least confusing of the three, and it allows the most opportunity for character development. The interactions of the Fellowship members are uncluttered by all the outside forces and complicated scenarios that fill the later volumes. There is particular beauty in how each remaining member deals with the iconic descent of Gandalf towards the end of the book.

Though Sam becomes the most heroic figure in Return of the King, I am perhaps most in love with him here. His sweet simplicity, gentle wisdom, innate comedy, connection to the earth and humble spirituality all come to light in Fellowship, and my biggest disappointment with the superb film was that these aspects of his personality were not tapped into more fully. In fact, they were often subverted, a decision that I still have trouble finding justifiable. For instance, one of my favorite Sam moments is when, after being charged with the task of accompanying Frodo, he responds in the following manner: “‘Me, sir!’cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk. ‘Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!’ he shouted, and then burst into tears.” While I love the beginning of this scene in the film, the utter absence – and apparent reversal – of its enthusiastic and awe-filled conclusion struck me as one of the movie’s most unfortunate omissions. The filmmakers did such a beautiful job with Pippin’s characterization in Fellowship. Why couldn’t they extend the same courtesy to Sam?

Another particularly nice aspect of Fellowship is the abundance of poetry. Now, there are probably many who would disagree with me on this point, as I have come to understand that Tolkien’s verse is generally not very highly praised. Still, I like it, and I am particularly fond of Sam’s poem about Old Tom and the troll. When Dad first read that to my brother and me, we loved it so much that we demanded he read it again. After a second recitation, my brother, then nine, declared the moral of the story to be that “a boot in the booty makes you feel fruity.” Whatever that means… Other favorites include the epic of Earendil the Mariner, composed and recited by Bilbo in Rivendell and considered by many to be Tolkien’s best poem, and Frodo’s eulogy for Gandalf. Though there is some verse scattered throughout Two Towers and Return of the King, the vast majority can be found here.

Fellowship is the journey-before-the-journey, fraught with harrowing adventures but only a premonition of the travails to come. Although I love the whole of Lord of the Rings, this installment is my favorite. If you’ve never given the book a try, let yourself be drawn into the beauty of the Shire and the utter malignance of the force that threatens it. And at least read as far as Bree before you dismiss it as being a boring tome obsessed with eating and bathing.

"Why Not Another W/O? WO" Until I Come Up With Another Real Review...

1) Age:

I am 23 biologically, 10 at heart.

(2) Sex:

Female

(3) Children?

Nope.

(4) Siblings?

Yes, two - one brother in college and one in high school.

(5) If so are you older or younger?

I'm the oldest in the family, though I sometimes feel like the youngest.

(6) Favorite Color?

Blue. It's such a cool, soothing color. Or green, because it reminds me of Ireland.

(7) Do you collect anything?

I collect a lot of stuff, and would collect more if I could. I have collections of bells, stamps, coins, trolls, Winnie-the-Pooh stuff, Simon and Garfunkel stuff, Lord of the Rings stuff, books... Yeah, lots of stuff.

(8) If you could be any animal what would it be and why?

Probably some kind of bird so I could fly.

(9) Who is your favorite actor?

There are so many actors I like... I'd probably have to go with Tom Hanks, but I've got a real soft spot for Haley Joel Osment, and Billy Boyd is divine.

(10) Favorite actress?

Probably Julie Andrews; LOVE Sound of Music and Mary Poppins. Current-day, maybe Nicole Kidman.

(11) What do you hate more than anything?

War and cigarettes.

(12) If you could be the President for one day what would you do?

I don't want that much responsibility...

(13) Who is your best friend?

I'm never good at picking favorites. I'll be a cop-out and give a nod to my little brother Nathan. He's one groovy dude.

(14) Are you passive or aggressive?

Very passive.

(15) What is your dream job?

I really want to be a writer, but I've got to get my groove back...

(16) What is your worst habit?

Probably my anxiety. I guess that's not really a habit, but it certainly causes me a lot of problems.

(17) What is your greatest asset?

I've always said it was my writing ability, but that seems to have been rather lacking lately, particularly my ability to come up with stories.

(18) Would you rather :(a)WALK (b)DRIVE (c)FLY?

Walk. I've got a definite Luddite strain in me. I think I've got a built-in disdain for cars; maybe that's why I always get carsick. I'm 23 and I don't drive and I don't want to. Airplanes make me nervous...

(19) If you went camping, you would sleep:(a)IN A TENT
(b)UNDER THE STARS (c)IN A HOTEL?

Who camps in a hotel??? I guess I'd have to say in a tent, because I always do, but under the stars would be cool.

(20) If you could have one superpower, what would it be and why?

I want to be able to fly!!!

(21) Favorite cartoon character?

Winnie-the-Pooh. I'm such a big Pooh fan and I've got a huge collection. I think he is fairly akin to hobbits, and the Hundred-Acre Wood is like the Shire. I want to live there.

(22) Party: ALL NIGHT LONG OR WHAT'S THAT??

What's that??? I am definitely not a party animal.

(23) How many reviews have you written?

This makes 536 reviews. I keep wanting to do one per day or something like that, but I can never keep it up...

(24) How many members trust you?

103 now. Yay!!!

(25) Who was the first member to trust you?

It's too long ago for me to remember, and the "date added" doesn't go back that far.

(26) Who was the first member you trusted?

Ditto to number 25.

(27) Favorite category to write in?

Sometimes music, sometimes movies.

(28) What is the best review you have written?

Hm. I've written an awful lot of reviews. Well, the longest was of the Simon and Garfunkel concert. I don't know if it's my best, but it's probably one of them.

(29) What is the worst review you have written?

One of my early reviews. I wrote a ton of reviews when I first joined, but a lot of them were really short and shoddy.

(30) If you could be one member, who would it be and why?

I can't pick just one!

(31) If you could change one thing about WOT??

Maybe something to indicate when a member takes me off their trust list. Sometimes somebody stops trusting me and it takes me a long time to figure out who it is.

(32) If you could change one thing about Rating?

I wish I didn't have to give numerical ratings in my reviews. I'm not much good at that.

(33) If you could change one thing about Writing?

I can't ever seem to come up with anything anymore. Sometimes I think, aside from reviews, I've lost my ability to write, and that's a really depressing thought.

(34) If you could change your member name, what would you change it to and why??

I like my name, but if I changed it the new name would probably have something to do with Simon and Garfunkel. Maybe BridgeOverTroubledWater or something. Or SilverGirl... I like the idea of Art Garfunkel sailing behind me!

*****DRUM ROLL*****
I know this one is going to be hard for most of you, but we are all grown here, answer honestly...and just ONE!!

(35) Who is your mentor here at Epinions?

I've been a member here for four years, and there have been so many. I'm sorry, I just can't do it!!