Yesterday I finished reading The Lord of the Rings

I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence. I much prefer history, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers. (foreword to The Lord of the Rings)

So why do I devote so many hours to Tolkien's work? "Applicability" is indiscernible; I haven't studied its themes; I don't particularly identify with any characters; I loathe escapism; I cherish my time.

Tolkien is my measured dose of escapism. Humans have long suspended reason for beauty when their world feels empty, and I can't wholly condemn a practice so essential to my ancestral history. In fact, given my broad operational skepticism, I could probably use such an occasional supplement, to keep me up. I am in principle determined to find joy and wonder in my tangible experience, but in practice handicapped. Total commitment to the principle would mean total isolation from my social environment, though it'd be difficult even in a vacuum (well, it'd be different for several reasons in a vacuum).

So I permit, enjoy, and resent occasional escapism. Tolkien is principal. Why Tolkien? The escapism is thorough (applicability is indiscernible), it connects me to my past (college was profound), and it's intellectually rich. Mostly it wormed in deep enough to feel essential: it's sad to imagine life without Tolkien. I could survive so easily, possibly even more effectively, but I would feel like I'd lost a love. If it went away, I'd regret not cherishing it more. This seems to be the nature of love. So: I love it. It's closely associated to the time I discovered it -- memories I love and would regret not cherishing more if they went away. So, half-independently and half-attached to old times, Tolkien feels essential to me despite my better judgment.

Amassing small loves is a busy, inflexible life, but a full one I suppose. Still I deflect new attachments as long as possible. To me, attachment is not intrinsically rewarding, but it is intrinsically burdensome, and bitter if it severs. I have a drive to keep my attachments few and deep and sustainable. If I'm already sufficiently attached to Tolkien to guarantee the regrets I mentioned above, I may as well fortify the cord, and lean my life on this love.