I read this to my three-year-old son, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it. Its debut at #1 on the New York Times bestseller list speaks to the power Tolkien’s stories still hold for us today, and this story is certainly worthy of it’s author. I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect, especially reading it for the first time together with my impressionable child. In some ways, it was the perfect “starter Tolkien” story for a sword-happy young boy: There were little boys flying on eagles, a hidden kingdom, a band of forested outlaws, a cave-fortress on/in a hill, a fire-breathing dragon, Orcs, Elvish Kings, Queens, and even a princess. The hero, Turin Turambar, had a magical helmet, a black enchanted sword named Gurthang, and performed mythic feats of bravery and strength. From a literary standpoint, Tolkien throws in a reference to every great story from mythology and the kitchen sink, too. There are parallels to the legend of Robin Hood, the biblical story of Ruth, and the Greek tragedy of Oedipus Rex. ****BEGIN SPOILERS**** On the other hand, of all Tolkien’s stories, this most recent work is also his great (and successful) attempt at tragedy. Not only did Turin die at the end (on the point of his own sword, by his own hand), he left a path of misery and death at the end of almost every chapter. He kills his best friend by accident, scorns the advice of all his elders, allows (by neglect) his true love to be killed, marries his sister (unknowingly), and then indirectly causes her death, and that of the man who truly loved her. Then he kills himself. Oh, yeah, and all the while, Turin’s father (Hurin) is being held captive by the villain, who forces him to watch (magically, of course) his son and daughter self-destruct. Now try explaining that to your toddler. ****END SPOILERS**** Nevertheless, it has been good for us, and we’ve talked a lot about anger, consequences, being nice to our friends, and being a good listener. And we’ve talked a lot about death, dying, killing, and violence. I really do think it’s better to face tough issues head on instead of sheltering them from it. I also believe that with the printed word — unlike television or film — a child’s imagination is not capable of conjuring up images he can’t deal with. All in all, I wasn’t expecting it to be over so quickly. This will forever be the first novel I read with my son. The first novel he “experienced” at all, for that matter. I'm glad it was a good one from an "old and trusted family friend." We’re already planning for the next one: I’m thinking maybe Tolkien’s Farmer Giles of Ham or maybe even something by Isaac Asimov or Shakespeare. Of course, he’s already asking me to read Beowulf to him. I’m just glad I’ve found one more common love to share with my son in this life.