beneath the mountains music woke
I can not read on for fear of weeping (as it is, I already shed a few tears) and being overwhelmed by all sorts of feeling, so I take it to mean I am to write and share here. Words make everything a bit easier, after all.
I've been re-reading LOTR very, very slowly - I read a lot of books simultaneously, and LOTR has been my shelter (along with fics, as they always are for me), - taking my time, dragging it out. Waiting, actually, for precisely what happened yesterday when I was hit by an overwhelming need to take up the book and (hide myself in it) plunge into it.
And so I've been reading, since yesterday. Still not rushing or anything.
Moria... hit me very hard this time around, and I can guess the reasons, of course, but it's the overwhelming sadness that is present in those halls of a kingdom that is no more. It grips you so tightly, that deep sorrow and quietude, more than the horror of a dark underground (or, at least, under-mountains) place. It was already there when the Company was passing through desolated Hollin, and it remains after they leave Khazad-dûm, and everything they pass just drives the knife in. Don't even start me on Mirrormere.
Sometimes I forget how sorrowful that part of their journey is.
Also, now that I've re-read it, 'The world was young...' may become my second favourite poem in LOTR. (The first, I believe, is easy enough to guess if I haven't told you already.)
They both make me a bit teary, though, of course.
(Ugh, I wish for DOS so that I can put my feelings into graphics - as I hope we'll be shown another abandoned dwarf kingdom - and: 'no harp is wrung, no hammer falls' *wrings hands*)
I've been re-reading LOTR very, very slowly - I read a lot of books simultaneously, and LOTR has been my shelter (along with fics, as they always are for me), - taking my time, dragging it out. Waiting, actually, for precisely what happened yesterday when I was hit by an overwhelming need to take up the book and (hide myself in it) plunge into it.
And so I've been reading, since yesterday. Still not rushing or anything.
Moria... hit me very hard this time around, and I can guess the reasons, of course, but it's the overwhelming sadness that is present in those halls of a kingdom that is no more. It grips you so tightly, that deep sorrow and quietude, more than the horror of a dark underground (or, at least, under-mountains) place. It was already there when the Company was passing through desolated Hollin, and it remains after they leave Khazad-dûm, and everything they pass just drives the knife in. Don't even start me on Mirrormere.
Sometimes I forget how sorrowful that part of their journey is.
Also, now that I've re-read it, 'The world was young...' may become my second favourite poem in LOTR. (The first, I believe, is easy enough to guess if I haven't told you already.)
They both make me a bit teary, though, of course.
(Ugh, I wish for DOS so that I can put my feelings into graphics - as I hope we'll be shown another abandoned dwarf kingdom - and: 'no harp is wrung, no hammer falls' *wrings hands*)