Oxford--I had vowed to take Dead Man's Walk. To sneak into Gothic-trimmed courtyards. To wander beside the shadow of J. R. R. Tolkien, the father of modern fantasy, and listen for remnants of his voice.
I had come to see the dim pubs where he drank up inspiration and to visit the homes where he scribbled The Lord of the Rings, one of the biggest-selling and most-beloved books of all time.
Alas, I heard the trail was unmarked. Shrouded in rumor and false steps. I would have to find my own path.
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (1892-1973) lived in Oxford on and off for so...
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