When this was posted over at A Farewell to Sanity, I knew I had to share it with you lovely readers. I really have nothing to add; I’ll just let the post itself do the talking.
It’s funny the way we care about fictional characters. I mean, we know they’re not real, but something inside us cares what happens to them. We want Frodo to destroy the ring without getting killed; we want Jack to let Owen back on the Torchwood team; we want Sherlock not to fall. It matters to us.
Why does it matter to us?
Fictional characters are fictional. They don’t exist, they really don’t. Often, however, they outlive their authors. Walk up to a random person in the street (not one wearing fake ears, the LotR fandom do not count in these circumstances), and say ‘Gandalf’. See what they say. Now walk up to someone else, equally randomly, and say, ‘JRR Tolkien’. You can imagine the responses you’d get, can’t you?
It’s partly because there have been films, and the Lord of the Rings has permeated our culture quite deeply, but there’s…
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