Scan barcode
A review by isabellarobinson7
Letters from Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien
3.5
Rating: 3.5 stars
In true Tolkien fashion, he just cannot stop himself from world building anything - even Santa gets his own mythos and lore. When his children started writing letters to Father Christmas (as every kid does) they started complaining that he wasn't responding, so Tolkien thought he could fill in. He started responding to them as Father Christmas, relaying to them all his adventures at the North Pole. There's a polar bear that likes to butt in on the letters, sometimes Santa's elf secretary has to step in because Santa is busy. All in all, it's a delightful read, especially (as one would expect) during the Christmas season.
I don't usually do seasonal reads, mostly because being in the southern hemisphere means I am in opposite seasons from virtually everyone else. But everyone's holidays are the same (if not severely mismatched for us. Who wants to roast literally anything when you yourselves are being cooked by the sun the minute your step outside) so I suppose I don't feel too out of place reading Letters from Father Christmas when it is 28° (celsius; 83° fahrenheit) outside.
In true Tolkien fashion, he just cannot stop himself from world building anything - even Santa gets his own mythos and lore. When his children started writing letters to Father Christmas (as every kid does) they started complaining that he wasn't responding, so Tolkien thought he could fill in. He started responding to them as Father Christmas, relaying to them all his adventures at the North Pole. There's a polar bear that likes to butt in on the letters, sometimes Santa's elf secretary has to step in because Santa is busy. All in all, it's a delightful read, especially (as one would expect) during the Christmas season.
I don't usually do seasonal reads, mostly because being in the southern hemisphere means I am in opposite seasons from virtually everyone else. But everyone's holidays are the same (if not severely mismatched for us. Who wants to roast literally anything when you yourselves are being cooked by the sun the minute your step outside) so I suppose I don't feel too out of place reading Letters from Father Christmas when it is 28° (celsius; 83° fahrenheit) outside.