“The Hobbit, or There and Back Again” by John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

This wonderful story was originally written as a fairy tale for children, and served its purpose well – but now it’s mostly known for the fact that the famous “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy grew out of it.

I loved “The Hobbit” when I read it for the first time, though I wasn’t a child anymore in those days: I think I was 20 or 21. It’s not quite a fairy tale anyway, but a fine bit of fantasy.

When the little and common-sense hobbit Bilbo Baggins sets out for a journey with thirteen dwarves and a wizard, little does he know about what’s waiting for him there. Goblins and other smily creatures chase him, and he has to fight or run for his life. Once he loses his companions, but luckily finds them again soon. He finds a unique treasure that helps him more than once in peril. He uses his intelligence and wit to save his friends – and his judgement and noble heart to make the right choice at the moment of a crisis. He even summons enough courage to face a real dragon and talk to him.

“The Hobbit” gives us the first outlook on Middle Earth – just a small part of it, but presenting us with a good idea of what this imaginary world is like and what kinds of amazing creatures populate it. It gives us the first chance to fall in love with it too – the chance to get enchanted and to form an unbreakable bond with a world created by a genius. Once affected like this, one would be always happy to return.

The language used by the author is such that is easily understood by children – or foreign readers for that matter – but there is nothing primitive about it. It’s rich, melodious and colourful, with a hint at old-fashoned, which is common for High Fantasy books. And yet it’s quite different in style to “The Lord of the Rings”.

I have heard it’s now being filmed, and I’m sure the film will be a success. Tolkien’s fans will see to that – and their number keeps growing, as more and more people come to appreciate the greatness of his works. I’m one of them – not the kind who dress up and stage battles, but the kind who admire quietly and return to the books of the favourite writer again and again. Having recently turned 38 – hardly a child anymore – I’m discovering I still love “The Hobbit”.