“Don’t worry Mr. Frodo.” “Oh, Samwise Gamgee.”
My friend Wes says that there are days when it looks like we live in Middle Earth, that our local environment is something from a Tolkien novel. I think he says this when there’s a sunny/cloudy day and the sun shines on the snow-capped mountains that surround our homes. There is a certain majestic grandeur to a great deal of the Lower Fraser Valley.
Sunday, when my family and I visited Cheam Lake (see yesterday’s post) I found out that barely twenty minutes away from where I live exists the dark side of Tolkien’s Middle Earth. The Dead Marshes, at least our local version, exists within the Cheam Lake park. It’s funny, because both my wife and I thought the same thing when we saw it. We’re both big fans of the movies (we watch the extended versions at least twice a year just for the fun of it) and I’ve read the books a few times. What’s ironic is that we both hate the parts of the movie wherein Frodo and Samwise have a big love-fest. Or maybe it’s just the unrequited love that Sam has for Frodo that bugs me. Either way, we skip ahead through the DVDs, right through the parts with Sam and Frodo.
To be completely forthright, I skipped through the parts in the books Two Towers and Return of the King that involved Frodo and Sam. There was something annoying about them. I knew they had to survive, but I kept wishing that Gollum/Smeagol would just get it over with and kill them both. Is that wrong?