The giant of the fantasy genre. I've read and reviewed the three books separately, but I've also in times past read this giant brick of a tome more than once, so I'm adding it now for completeness' sake, and noting that this is one of the few giant epic fantasy tomes in existence that doesn't irritate me. There's probably waffle in there, but none I want to cut out. I just love everything about it, but my favourite parts, I think, are Eowyn and the Witch King, the Houses of Healing, and most of all Sam - with the one bright star in Mordor (which has always been the pre-eminent moment of eucatastrophe in literature for me) and him coming home at the end. Also Gollum, who is monstrous and pitiful at once, Shelob, Gandalf and the Balrog, the march of the Ents... and churlish as this may be, Elves who do not sing awful little fairy songs like they do in a certain prequel. Tra-la-la-lally, Elrond, really.

I don't suppose any book is ever perfect, but my emotional attachment to LOTR over-rides all else. I can (and have) read it again and again, and my enjoyment only increases.