It is an entire world that Tolkien has created, and one of the most striking things about it is the familiarity of its moral order: the hatred of tyrannical power and love of freedom; the resistance to the hypnotic allure of demagogic eloquence; the appreciation of simple, comfortable, contented, unexceptional lives; the pluck and terrific courage that certain of these ordinary beings can summon when confronted by the threat of consuming malevolence; the admiration for persons wiser, more gifted, more accomplished, more impressive than oneself; the awe felt in the presence of superb physical beauty (Elvish good looks being the best thing going); the preciousness of local attachments, to one’s home ground and to the people one knows best; the live-and-let-live attitude that accepts fundamental differences in thought and taste as natural and worthy of respect, so long as they don’t interfere with one’s own preferences; in sum, what were justly considered the typical English virtues at the time Tolkien was writing, in the aftermath of the two world wars – precisely the virtues that inspired the English fight and helped secure victory.

This was my own first reading of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and I took pains to ensure that I knew as little of the story as possible before plunging in. Tolkien rewarded my naive ignorance.