Even if you’re not a math geek, you’re probably familiar with the algebraist Charles Dodgson — you just know him his much more famous alter-ego, Lewis Carroll. Unlike Dodgson, Carroll wrote stories that defied logic, twisting it into dreamlike, fantastical shapes: a hookah-smoking caterpillar, a flamingo-filled croquet-ground, a perpetually tardy White Rabbit. The result was , which has delighted adults and children alike since it was published over a century and a half ago — and today is recognized as a momentous early foray into the fantasy genre as a whole.
The Lord of the Rings has made its mark on high fantasy’s DNA more than any other work — and this is the volume that started it off. Like The Hobbit, its prequel of sorts, The Fellowship of the Ring is a story that turns on ordinary acts of courage. Running as a counterpoint alongside the thundering motifs of kingly destiny and good-versus-evil, we see the innocent bravery of country gentlemen and the loyalty of gardeners. These, the book argues, are the real engines of historical change. And in today's fantasy landscape overshadowed by the grimdark, returning to Tolkien’s brand of clear-eyed hope can be a real breath of fresh air.