“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”

If you watched the films, you probably don’t need to read the next paragraph, since you already know what the book is about. But for those who decided not to sit for eight hours in front of a screen (don’t look at me, I’ve already planned an extended version-marathon), here’s a summary that is short, like a hobbit:

Bilbo Baggins is a hobbit who lives comfortably in his hobbit hole. There isn’t a lot of excitement in his life-style, but that’s how hobbits like their lives to be: peaceful. However, his life is turned upside down when Gandalf the wizard walks by his house looking for someone to share an adventure with. Soon, a company of thirteen dwarves is knocking on Bilbo’s door, eating his food and telling him of the role he will take if he decides to go with them on a rather long, unexpected journey: he is to be the burglar that will steal their lost treasure, which is now guarded by Smaug, the dragon.

When I started reading The Hobbit, I had already read The Silmarillion, and watched all six Tolkien-Jackson films (several times). What I didn’t know, was how much I was going to love this book. I liked it so much, I actually wanted to start over as soon as I finished it. The story is brilliant, the characters are fun and charming, and I found myself smiling and laughing a lot.

This charming little tale is virtually for everyone, not just for children. It is also a good way to enter the world of J.R.R. Tolkien, since it’s smaller and easier than The Lord of the Rings. I must warn you, though: if you want a lot of action and a jumping Legolas, go watch the films. This book is about a hobbit who goes on an unexpected adventure and learns something about the world and about himself in the process.