The Guardian reviews the new, uh, Tolkien

by Diane Duane

“My name is Turambar,” cried Turin, “and Evil have been all my ways.”

“And my name is Niniel,” wept Nienor as they fell into each other’s arms and she became heavy with child. And lo, when Glaurung told her she had shagged her brother and Turin had been slain on his quest to rescue Húrin, she threw herself into a ravine. Yet Turin was mere wounded, and once he discovered Nienor’s fate, he slew Glaurung before turning his sword on himself. So it was that no one lived happily ever after.

(snort)

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