In defence of The Rings of Power (though I do get why some people dislike it)

The battle of the fantasy franchises is on. I initially considered gathering my thoughts on Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power on Amazon Prime, House of the Dragon on HBO and The Sandman on Netflix in one post and call it "fantasy month" (they all started streaming at the end of August and beginning of September – The Sandman dropped in its entirety while the other two shows are released episode by episode). But I don't think I can be concise enough, so the shows will have to have their own posts (at least the first two: The Sandman is far gloomier than I thought it would be, so I'm not sure I'll finish it). 

To start with Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, then. I'd firmly anticipated being bored by this series, as there have been some very negative reactions where it's described as slow-moving. Oddly enough, though, I found myself quite enjoying it – more, in fact, than I've enjoyed the (from what I can see) far more popular Game of Thrones prequel House of the Dragon so far. I like the epic sweep of the show, and at least some of the characters feel worth rooting for. At the same time, I understand why real Tolkien fans aren't that thrilled, as this based-on-appendices-to-Silmarillion series probably has very little to do with Tolkien.

I have to come clean here. I did watch the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings film trilogy when it first came out, and had a better time than I expected (I saw them on the big screen and they were very impressive), but I have never read the books, nor have I any great wish to do so. I did not consider the films' portentous dialogue their strongest point. While the characters were often likeable – did Sam literally carry the whole quest, or what? Why didn't they simply give him the Ring? – it felt significant that the most interesting character (Gollum) was split into a good and an evil side. This was as close to moral greyness as the films got, and let's be frank, it wasn't very close at all. Most of the story was very black and white, and the main bad guy was a freaking eye. Not very exciting for a villain-lover, then, at least not exciting enough to check out in book form.

Having said that, I wouldn't mind rewatching those films at some point when I have oceans of time. And strangely enough, the Amazon series seems to be pitched exactly at us Tolkien near-ignoramuses who quite liked the films. We know enough to be curious about the time in Middle-earth's history when there was more than one ring flying around and everyone was at one another's throats, but we aren't knowledgeable enough to see the ways in which the series might go against Tolkien's vision. What the show should have done, in my view, is ditch the Lord of the Rings part of the title, simply call itself The Rings of Power and honestly acknowledge that it doesn't aspire to be "canon" but is rather an expensive, Tolkien-inspired fan fiction that bears as much resemblance to Lord of the Rings as the Sanditon TV series does to Jane Austen.

The answer to the accusation that the show is unfaithful to Tolkien's work, then, is "no idea, but probably yes". What of the accusation that the show is embarrassingly woke, to the point of self-parody? I can see what gave rise to it. I've previously stated that I think fantasy is a genre where you can go nuts with diverse casting, what with having no historical limits to contend with, but perhaps there should be some thought put behind it. Melting-pot societies don't just appear out of nowhere: they tend to be open and metropolitan, which (and I might be completely wrong here) are not two words I would associate with elves. I wouldn't have minded a little clarification regarding the diversity of elves and dwarves (don't the latter live underground?), and it is irritating that the show doesn't deign to address such matters. (I'm going with the fairly standard "different tribes" head-canon explanation.) What bothers me more is the disregard for family likenesses: Míriel and Theo must take after their absent mother and father respectively a lot, as there is no resemblance to the parents we do see. It's not Iannucci's David Copperfield level of confusing, but it comes close.

Story-wise, though, I don't think the series is in any way gratingly ideological. There have been many angry reactions to seeing the later serene Galadriel depicted in her young days as a warrior spoiling for a fight – as if the only way a female character can show strength nowadays is to be able to fight like a man. But I don't believe that is the point here. Young Galadriel is clumsy and insensitive in her combativeness: I think we're about to witness how events shape her to be the wise and compassionate woman (well, elf) seen later in the canonical story. Characters need a story arc, after all – my guess is that Galadriel will be softened by her experiences, while Elrond (whom I remember as rather stuck-up in the Trilogy films, but who is probably my favourite character in Rings of Power) will be hardened by his. In the actual plot, there is only one scene so far that felt like dreaded social commentary, as an agitator in Numenór talked about elves taking over the islanders' jobs (an admittedly eye-covering moment). But that's it. No-one, mercifully, mentions making Middle-earth great again. If you're only avoiding the show because you fear it will be too woke, give it a try: don't write it off because of a trailer featuring a grim girl in armour.

Finally, let's address the giant eye in the room. As a villain-lover, I must admit I'm curious to see what Sauron was like in his heyday. There is still a guessing game going on as to which suspicious stranger will turn out to be him – whoever it is, it has to be an improvement on an eye. I'm happy to play Find Sauron for another couple of episodes. Though I wouldn't mind some actual rings of power turning up soon.

Comfort reading – and comfort viewing

So, there haven't been that many blog posts from me about books lately. That's because I have been very unambitious in my reading of late. I took one look at Doctor Zhivago, saw that it started with a description of the protagonist's sad childhood rather than some juicy romantic stuff involving villains as love rivals, and concluded that on second thought, it looked more like a winter novel. Not even the self-indulgent reads have always lasted the course – fairy-tale inspired novels I've given up on include Marissa Meyer's Gilded, although it looked so promising (a teenage boy with freckles? Really, Marissa??). One typical summer read I managed to finish, though, was The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman. I liked it fine, but I suspect other readers of not-too-grisly crime stories may enjoy it more than I do, and I'll try to explain why.

I can't be the only one who tried on The Thursday Murder Club because Richard Osman is "that guy from Pointless". There is an international channel for us foreign anglophiles called BBC Brit, which basically only airs a handful of Beeb programmes, usually reruns too. Luckily, Pointless is one of those programmes, and thanks to one of my many streaming services I can watch it on catch-up. I love this game show. The premise (the contestants must try to score as few points as possible by finding the most obscure, correct answers to questions that have been put to a number of people before the show – the more people who knew the answer, the higher the score) is tricky to get your head around, but once you have it's a mildly educational delight. If I don't feel like watching anything else, an episode of Pointless usually works. 

One of the reasons this is such a comfort blanket of a show is the friendly atmosphere provided by the programme's presenter, Alexander Armstrong, and said Richard Osman, who is the one giving out the correct answers. The blessedly un-barbed banter between Armstrong and Osman leaves the viewer with a warm, fuzzy feeling towards both of them. In other words, to regular viewers of Pointless, Richard Osman has goodwill in spades.

I was a bit doubtful about the plot of The Thursday Murder Club, though. As advertised on the blurb, it features four senior citizens at a high-end retirement residence who take an interest in unsolved murders, and soon get a fresh, local murder to sink their teeth into. This sounded to me almost like a parody of "cosy crime". Also, though I like Christie's Miss Marple, four oldies solving crimes seemed too much of a muchness, as I'm not really that interested in the daily routine of senior citizens (hopefully, one gets there soon enough). As I feared, the novel focuses heavily on the lives of its four aged protagonists – hard-as-nails ex-spy Elizabeth; Joyce, an retired nurse who's not as ditzy as she seems; tough old union boss Ron and polite and pedantic ex-psychiatrist Ibrahim. The plot takes its time to get going; there's a lot of scene-setting, and once I was actually close to quitting.

Once the crime story gathers momentum, though, it has many pleasing twists and turns, and I swallowed more than one red herring along the way (perhaps you trail after red herrings rather than swallow them? – Joyce or Elizabeth would probably set me right). The senior amateur sleuths are charming, though I occasionally found Joyce's decided opinions and Elizabeth's hard-ball-playing a little trying, and the police officers who try – and fail – to keep the quartet in check are very likeable. But this kind of mystery novel is not quite for me. There wasn't enough focus on the brainwork, and the quartet's different specialities and knowledge weren't used that much to solve the mystery. It wouldn't have mattered if I enjoyed the setting and atmosphere more, but I didn't particularly. I know the novel's message is that we should not discount the old, and it wants to show how intelligent and interesting these old'uns are, but to me, a little of Joyce's recounting of the daily life at the residence went a long way. However, I'm aware that this is very much a question of personal taste. 

The Thursday Murder Club does exactly what it says on the tin. If you like the idea of senior citizens solving murders, with the focus being on the cosy rather than the crime in "cosy crime", you'll probably enjoy this novel a lot. If the makers of Pointless asked 100 persons the question "Did you enjoy The Thursday Murder Club?" (not that they would as it's not a knowledge question, but bear with me), I suspect "Yes" would get a high score.