One hundred and seventeen years ago this day, John Ronald Ruel Tolkien was born to us in South Africa. Since I noted the great man's death a few months back, it is only fitting that I celebrate his birth here as well. Now if I can only remember to do the same for Jack when the time comes...
The title today comes from a custom the Tolkien Society has of toasting the memory of Tolkien on his birthday. It is done in the tradition of British ceremonial toasting — one raises a glass of his or her preferred memorial beverage and says "The Professor" before taking a sip. I performed the ritual myself last night when it was about 4 a.m. in Oxford, and I will leave my choice of beverage to your imagination. For more information on the tradition, look to the Tolkien Society's Website here.
Fittingly, I have (as most of you know) returned to reading Tolkien's classic, The Lord of the Rings, beginning with The Hobbit prequel. I tried The Hobbit about a year ago and found it unsatisfying for some reason. Happily, this time, it is a delight, and I am enjoying it very much. I am, at this writing, deep beneath the Misty Mountains with our hero, who is about to embark on a riddle game with a most unsavory creature.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I hear my last day's cup of expresso calling me.
The Professor!
No comments:
Post a Comment