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orionmerlin 's review for:
The Fellowship of the Ring
by J.R.R. Tolkien
adventurous
challenging
emotional
hopeful
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Characters: 6/10
The characters exist. Technically. Frodo is a trembling mess for 90% of the book. He gets the Ring and instantly becomes an anxious little cryptid who collapses anytime someone raises their voice. Sam is sweet but starts out so cloyingly servile it’s borderline uncomfortable. Merry and Pippin? Comic relief who spend the first half of the book being dragged around like noisy luggage. Aragorn is cool, sure, but he speaks like he’s in a Shakespeare knockoff, and Gandalf is less “wise mentor” and more “mysterious drama queen.” The character development is there, buried under mountains of archaic dialogue and exposition, but it’s like trying to find personality in a history textbook. Secondary characters like Arwen are so irrelevant they don’t even count as decorative. They’re just... there, haunting the margins.
The characters exist. Technically. Frodo is a trembling mess for 90% of the book. He gets the Ring and instantly becomes an anxious little cryptid who collapses anytime someone raises their voice. Sam is sweet but starts out so cloyingly servile it’s borderline uncomfortable. Merry and Pippin? Comic relief who spend the first half of the book being dragged around like noisy luggage. Aragorn is cool, sure, but he speaks like he’s in a Shakespeare knockoff, and Gandalf is less “wise mentor” and more “mysterious drama queen.” The character development is there, buried under mountains of archaic dialogue and exposition, but it’s like trying to find personality in a history textbook. Secondary characters like Arwen are so irrelevant they don’t even count as decorative. They’re just... there, haunting the margins.
Atmosphere / Setting: 8.5/10
Middle-earth is gorgeous. I get it. But Tolkien describes it with the enthusiasm of a botanist who just discovered adjectives. Every. Damn. Hill. Every tree. Every patch of moss gets a paragraph. Sometimes more. The man stops the plot cold to tell you what the weather was like that morning in three different regions. Immersive? Yes. But immersion loses its charm when you’re ten pages deep into a travelogue about a forest with zero plot movement. It's like going on a scenic road trip where the driver stops every five minutes to paint a landscape and lecture you on ancient topography.
Middle-earth is gorgeous. I get it. But Tolkien describes it with the enthusiasm of a botanist who just discovered adjectives. Every. Damn. Hill. Every tree. Every patch of moss gets a paragraph. Sometimes more. The man stops the plot cold to tell you what the weather was like that morning in three different regions. Immersive? Yes. But immersion loses its charm when you’re ten pages deep into a travelogue about a forest with zero plot movement. It's like going on a scenic road trip where the driver stops every five minutes to paint a landscape and lecture you on ancient topography.
Writing Style: 6/10
Tolkien’s prose has the density of fruitcake—rich, layered, and nearly impossible to digest in large quantities. He wasn’t writing a story, he was writing an epic history as imagined by someone allergic to conciseness. The tone swings from pseudo-Biblical to bedtime story, often within a single chapter. Dialogue is frequently stiff and overly formal—everyone talks like they’re composing their own gravestone epitaphs. And the songs. Oh, the songs. I skipped most of them after the fifth one because I didn’t need a hobbit folk album mid-quest. There's a fine line between mythic and monotonous, and Tolkien pole-vaults over it with zero remorse.
Tolkien’s prose has the density of fruitcake—rich, layered, and nearly impossible to digest in large quantities. He wasn’t writing a story, he was writing an epic history as imagined by someone allergic to conciseness. The tone swings from pseudo-Biblical to bedtime story, often within a single chapter. Dialogue is frequently stiff and overly formal—everyone talks like they’re composing their own gravestone epitaphs. And the songs. Oh, the songs. I skipped most of them after the fifth one because I didn’t need a hobbit folk album mid-quest. There's a fine line between mythic and monotonous, and Tolkien pole-vaults over it with zero remorse.
Plot: 5.5/10
The plot is shockingly thin for a book that’s 400+ pages long. A bunch of vaguely motivated people spend a ludicrous amount of time walking toward danger and holding very formal meetings about possibly doing more walking. The Council of Elrond feels like a Dungeons & Dragons planning session that no one edited. Major “events” are spaced out like the book is allergic to drama. And then, when things do happen—like Gandalf’s fall or Boromir’s breakdown—it’s great! But those moments are buried in pages upon pages of campfires, moralizing, and forest tourism. There’s tension, but it comes in such slow drips that I felt like I was watching plot unfold via tectonic shift.
The plot is shockingly thin for a book that’s 400+ pages long. A bunch of vaguely motivated people spend a ludicrous amount of time walking toward danger and holding very formal meetings about possibly doing more walking. The Council of Elrond feels like a Dungeons & Dragons planning session that no one edited. Major “events” are spaced out like the book is allergic to drama. And then, when things do happen—like Gandalf’s fall or Boromir’s breakdown—it’s great! But those moments are buried in pages upon pages of campfires, moralizing, and forest tourism. There’s tension, but it comes in such slow drips that I felt like I was watching plot unfold via tectonic shift.
Intrigue: 5/10
This book tested my attention span like a bad college lecture. I wanted to care. I tried to care. But every moment of genuine intrigue—like the Black Riders hunting Frodo or the ominous whispers about Sauron—is stretched thin between scenes of wandering, rations, and descriptions of trees I will never remember. There’s no urgency. I didn’t feel like the Ring’s danger was looming so much as vaguely present in the background like a disappointing group project. When the Fellowship actually does something, it’s thrilling. But those moments are too few and too far between.
This book tested my attention span like a bad college lecture. I wanted to care. I tried to care. But every moment of genuine intrigue—like the Black Riders hunting Frodo or the ominous whispers about Sauron—is stretched thin between scenes of wandering, rations, and descriptions of trees I will never remember. There’s no urgency. I didn’t feel like the Ring’s danger was looming so much as vaguely present in the background like a disappointing group project. When the Fellowship actually does something, it’s thrilling. But those moments are too few and too far between.
Logic / Relationships: 7/10
Middle-earth has internal consistency—fine. Tolkien was a worldbuilding freak and that’s his flex. But the relationships? Wooden as Ent limbs. Frodo and Sam are the only emotionally believable bond in the book. Everyone else is caught in a weird formal friendship hell where no one talks like real people. Boromir’s arc had potential, but we spend so little actual time seeing him interact meaningfully with Frodo before his betrayal that it feels rushed. And don’t even ask me to describe Legolas and Gimli’s “dynamic” at this point—it’s like Tolkien wrote them into scenes just to fill seats.
Middle-earth has internal consistency—fine. Tolkien was a worldbuilding freak and that’s his flex. But the relationships? Wooden as Ent limbs. Frodo and Sam are the only emotionally believable bond in the book. Everyone else is caught in a weird formal friendship hell where no one talks like real people. Boromir’s arc had potential, but we spend so little actual time seeing him interact meaningfully with Frodo before his betrayal that it feels rushed. And don’t even ask me to describe Legolas and Gimli’s “dynamic” at this point—it’s like Tolkien wrote them into scenes just to fill seats.
Enjoyment: 6/10
I respect this book more than I enjoy it. I admire it like I admire ancient architecture—beautiful, historic, but I wouldn’t want to live in it. Reading The Fellowship of the Ring is like doing cardio for your brain: exhausting, virtuous, and mostly not fun. Every spark of excitement is followed by a long sigh of exposition. Would I reread it? Only if forced to by some sacred fantasy oath. Would I recommend it? Yes, but only with a heavy dose of preparation and caffeine.
I respect this book more than I enjoy it. I admire it like I admire ancient architecture—beautiful, historic, but I wouldn’t want to live in it. Reading The Fellowship of the Ring is like doing cardio for your brain: exhausting, virtuous, and mostly not fun. Every spark of excitement is followed by a long sigh of exposition. Would I reread it? Only if forced to by some sacred fantasy oath. Would I recommend it? Yes, but only with a heavy dose of preparation and caffeine.
Total: 44/70
This book is a landmark in fantasy fiction—but like most landmarks, it’s something I’d rather read about than revisit. It’s brilliant in theory, slow in execution, and occasionally insufferable in style. I respect Tolkien for building the house of modern fantasy. But damn, I wish he’d hired an editor to clean out the attic first.
This book is a landmark in fantasy fiction—but like most landmarks, it’s something I’d rather read about than revisit. It’s brilliant in theory, slow in execution, and occasionally insufferable in style. I respect Tolkien for building the house of modern fantasy. But damn, I wish he’d hired an editor to clean out the attic first.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Death, Violence, Grief, War, Injury/Injury detail
Minor: Animal death, Murder, Cultural appropriation, Alcohol, Classism
The book is generally tame in terms of explicit content, but its emotional weight, themes of death, and pervasive atmosphere of looming dread may affect sensitive readers. Also, modern readers sometimes critique aspects of its racial and cultural representations, particularly with how certain groups (orcs, Haradrim) are described. There’s also a heavy undercurrent of emotional repression—characters handle trauma with stoic nobility, which could be viewed as either admirable or frustratingly avoidant depending on your lens.