By SHANKARI CHANDRAN
Last night Husband and I went to see The Hobbit. Actually, I went to see The Hobbit and Husband took the opportunity to have so many micro-sleeps, it was more like a 2 hour nap in Middle-earth for him.
During the film I had a moral and conversational conflict (with myself) I want to share. Please note that my use of the word “dwarf” in this post is a reference to the dwarves of Middle-earth, one of the many races that inhabit it.
During The Hobbit, I found myself attracted to one of the film’s protagonists, Thorin Oakenshield, the dwarf leader who embarks on a quest (of course) to reclaim his lost kingdom.
As the film progressed, I became increasingly distracted from the plot and instead, attracted to Thorin’s piercing blue eyes, his dark flowing hair and his admirable skill with an axe. There was something about his voice and accent that was familiar too.
My first thought, as Thorin argued passionately with Lord Elrond and the wood elves of Mirkwood, was that I had the serious hots for him.
My second thought was, “Hmm, that’s not like me. I usually go for the Men of Middle-Earth (ie. Aragorn) and sometimes the Elves.”
My third thought was, “I am actually attracted to the dwarf. That’s interesting.”
My fourth thought was, “Why is that any more interesting or different from being attracted to a Man or an Elf? Oh my God, am I bigoted?”
I am sure that when Husband reads this post his response will not be, “Oh my God, is she bigoted?” but:
“Oh my God, does she fantasize about Aragorn and Elves instead of me?” or