When I read a story, I must take time afterwards to reflect upon it. I read it, but I don't really "read" it in full until I go back over it in my mind.

Tolkein was not a good writer. He was a great writer, but not a good one. His pacing is awful, his story beats are irregular, and his narrative focus meanders like a drunken Irishman.

But he built a world. A new world. A world that, as a child, you did not experience before. You went back and reflected on the story. No reference points, no preconceptions. You experienced a whole new world. Some parts were oddly paced, but as a child, those were times you'd be imagining the rest of the world.

Now? Jaded, experienced with carefully crafted narratives, colored by the movies' pacing. You're probably not leaning back after reading it, imagining being in that world. The book has not changed, but you have. You're observing the flaws, noticing the story beats.

But as you yourself stated, as a kid, you loved it. Prior to that movie set, prior to adding new preconceptions, you loved it.

Pompous reply aside, that second book is a slog at times, for sure. Weakest of the trilogy.