Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

"The Silmarillion" is perhaps the most unique and difficult-to-explain book I have read. It is among the books I love the most, but this might not be the case if I had not read it in a bizarre way that I can hardly recommend to anyone else, and yet may be the best way to read it. For ten or twelve years I skimmed through "The Silmarillion," "The Hobbit," "The Lord of the Rings," and many of Tolkien's posthumous books (many of which present the stories of "The Silmarillion" in different forms which Tolkien wrote at various times in his life) without reading the books verbatim. Only in the last twelve months have I read these books all the way through. This was a wise way of approaching Tolkien's most famous works because of the odd nature of "The Silmarillion," which must be understood by anyone desiring to enjoy it. "The Silmarillion" is not a "novel," as are "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" (Tolkien preferred the word "romance" to "novel" for LotR). "The Silmarillion" is well described by the subtitle on the front of the jacket of the Ted Nasmith-illustrated edition: "The Myths and Legends of Middle-earth". "The Silmarillion" is the equivalent, for the imaginary world in which "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" take place, of a work like Hamilton's or Bulfinch's "Mythology". It does not tell one single story; rather it tells many stories in a briefer form, almost as though the stories are being synopsized rather than told. In a real sense "The Silmarillion" is a greater work than even "The Lord of the Rings" could ever be, since it contains not one but several stories with as much power and grandeur as that of LotR. However, much of the book is written in the style of a tome of history, setting out the vast historical framework within which these unforgettable stories unfold, and thus seems dry and soporific to many readers. Moreover, large numbers of characters, often with similar names (seven important Elven characters have names starting with F, and six of them start with the letters "Fin"), are presented without space for them to be strongly characterized, so that the reader may be unable to become as engaged with them as with Frodo, Sam or Gandalf. This is where my bizarre manner of reading the book came in handy: I became familiar with all the characters over my years of skimming, and knew precisely who they were and how they were connected to each other when I finally read the whole book. Moreover, since I had often skimmed "The Silmarillion" before reading "The Lord of the Rings," I could appreciate the many references back to the former work in the latter. Although "The Silmarillion" was not published until many years after LotR, Tolkien had written all the stories that make up "The Silmarillion" before writing LotR. Many of LotR's references to past events, which contribute greatly to the impression it gives of taking place in a real world, are references to events told in "The Silmarillion". (No Hobbits appear or are mentioned in "The Silmarillion" until the last three pages of the book, when the events of "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" are briefly described at the end of a section that explains how the events of "The Silmarillion" ultimately led to the events of those books.) In my opinion, the creation myth with which "The Silmarillion" opens is one of the most intellectually and emotionally satisfying creation stories I have ever read; the chapter "Of Turin Turambar" presents a heroic tragedy comparable in grandeur to a Wagner opera and in depth and power of sorrow to a tragic opera such as "Il Trovatore" or "Tosca"; and the chapter "Of Beren and Luthien" presents Tolkien's very best story of all, perhaps the most unforgettable tale of love and adventure written in the twentieth century. But for readers to appreciate these treasures, they must be aware in advance of the unusual nature of "The Silmarillion," and not expect a fantasy adventure novel, a mere "prequel" to "The Lord of the Rings". These are the stories that are told in Frodo's world; they are to Frodo, Sam and Strider what "The Lord of the Rings" is to us: a saga of a vanished world of heartbreaking beauty, glimmers of which we can still see if we look hard enough. (Some of Ted Nasmith's illustrations are better than others. The image of Luthien dancing in the wood is one of the best Tolkien-inspired paintings I've ever seen, especially since it leaves the ineffable beauty of Luthien's face to our imaginations. On the other hand, Galadriel's brother Finrod is not depicted as nearly good-looking enough in the painting of him singing by the campfire of the first Men to come into Beleriand.)