Jack of Harts

J. R. R. Tolkien died before I was born. I do not remember a time when he lived. But his works dominated my youth. I learned how to spell grey the proper way because of him. And yes, I started with The Hobbit, and went on to The Lord of the Rings which I read cover to cover, including the appendixes. All of them.

I grew up in a world without him, but one that had his son. Christopher Tolkien has been the editor and mapmaker of Lord of the Rings for my entire life. He has always been there, expanding on his father’s work and making it into a world that goes far beyond the pages of just those early books. Taking the notes and poems and stories that his father started, editing them and finishing them and finding ways to publish them so all those of us who loved that world could see more of it. I loved the Silmarillion as a child. I was pretty much his target audience.

Now he is gone. The Tolkiens that have dominated my life are no more, and that is a great and terrible thing to face. They have gone into The West, and we must give them one Last Goodbye. And this…this is where my mind goes back to again and again

Into The West
Into The West

The Last Goodbye
The Last Goodbye