So, lately I’ve been struggling with the book I’m presently reading. And as evasive actions goes few things beats watching old films.
Every time this happens I watch different films, and this time I was ready for a rerun of Lord of the Rings. Now, when you’ve been watching a film a gazillion times, not to mention that you first had the books read to you 35-some years ago, with frequent rereads, there’s things that starts to shine through.
I’ll be the first to admit that fiction is fiction, and to some extent you just need to suspend you disbelief or the story will not make sense. This – the suspension of disbelief – is a wonderful thing that lets me embrace the totally different or to understand the unthinkable; it widens my understanding of the world, even if the story as such is pure fiction.
Despite this, and 35 years later, it dawns on me how ridiculous some things are. I mean, what on Middle Earth does it tell us when a total stranger with no experience in managing a large realm can become a king, based on folklore and an alleged kinship with someone who died 2500 years ago?!?!?!
“I’m a descendant in direct line from Alexander the Great. Please hand over the rule over your nation to me.”
Well, hardly. If you insist I’ll call the police, they’ll drive you to psych ER.
Luckily for Aragorn this story didn’t happen in the modern industrialised world but in an agrarian utopia where people took such heady statements for the real thing. ;-)