I've read tens of thousands of books, and probably that length more in short stories and prose. I can't make it past page 150 of the two towers.
As a rational human being, I feel like 45 pages of "they walked past a tree. They walked past another tree. They ate food. They walked past a tree. This tree was interesting because it was 3.4 centimeters taller than the last 46 trees they passed by. Let's sit and eat lunch and talk about this tree. The tree is a tree. Yep. Just like that tree over there. And if you look past that tree, a little to the left, down the rolling glade and just over the tree topped hill, you will see another tree, and next to that tree is a tree that one time a treant leaned against in the middle of his 45 hour long conversation with the tree that I mentioned to look past to see the tree that the treeant leaned against, and the contents of that 45 hour conversation was basically the treeant saying his full name to the tree, not hearing a response, and then saying it again, only this time, he didn't hear a response, but then he realized that he was just talking to a tree and not a treeant, which made him sad, so he told the first second tree, the tree he was leaning on, that we are talking about now, that the fact that the second first tree was not a treant made him sad, before he realized, oh, silly goose, I've done it again! I'm talking to trees like a looney. I had better stop talking to trees before the other treants lock me away."
His themes are great, but Tolkien is not exactly a riveting writer. It's so bad that the only way I was able to make it through the the movie of the two towers was by making out with my girlfriend for the boring parts, which, let's face it, was the middle 2 hours.
The two towers gave me narcolepsy and genital friction burn.
As a rational human being, I feel like 45 pages of "they walked past a tree. They walked past another tree. They ate food. They walked past a tree. This tree was interesting because it was 3.4 centimeters taller than the last 46 trees they passed by. Let's sit and eat lunch and talk about this tree. The tree is a tree. Yep. Just like that tree over there. And if you look past that tree, a little to the left, down the rolling glade and just over the tree topped hill, you will see another tree, and next to that tree is a tree that one time a treant leaned against in the middle of his 45 hour long conversation with the tree that I mentioned to look past to see the tree that the treeant leaned against, and the contents of that 45 hour conversation was basically the treeant saying his full name to the tree, not hearing a response, and then saying it again, only this time, he didn't hear a response, but then he realized that he was just talking to a tree and not a treeant, which made him sad, so he told the first second tree, the tree he was leaning on, that we are talking about now, that the fact that the second first tree was not a treant made him sad, before he realized, oh, silly goose, I've done it again! I'm talking to trees like a looney. I had better stop talking to trees before the other treants lock me away."
His themes are great, but Tolkien is not exactly a riveting writer. It's so bad that the only way I was able to make it through the the movie of the two towers was by making out with my girlfriend for the boring parts, which, let's face it, was the middle 2 hours.
The two towers gave me narcolepsy and genital friction burn.