[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Well goodness knows I like Boromir, but I think that I shall raise another matter and other characters entirely…

To this point in the book, it’s been the story of the Fellowship: its founding in the Shire, its additions and growth in Bree and Rivendell, its trials and losses in Moria and Lorien, and now its breaking. It is at this point, then, that we begin to move away from a company of heroes and toward an examination of individual models of heroism.

The three principle heroes of the book come to the fore in some wonderful ways here. Aragorn, Frodo and Sam all reveal the beginnings of the heroic ideals that will carry them through the rest of their journeys and see to the success of the Quest.

At the beginning of the chapter, Aragorn says to Frodo:

‘I am not Gandalf, and though I have tried to bear his part, I do not know what design or hope he had for this hour, if indeed he had any. Most likely it seems that if he were here now the choice would still wait on you. Such is your fate.’

Near the end of the chapter he says something quite similar about Frodo, to the company:

‘I do not think that it is our part to drive him one way or the other. Nor do I think that we should succeed, if we tried. There are other powers at work far stronger.’

He may not be Gandalf, but he sure is beginning to sound like the Wizard. From the first chapter of the book, it has been Gandalf who has seen events in the way that Aragorn is just beginning to. Remember his description of Bilbo’s recovery of the Ring: “There was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that might be an encouraging thought.” It makes sense to me that Aragorn should be echoing his teacher/mentor here, as Aragorn is beginning to become the hero he was born and meant to be. He is aware of the fact that there are “powers” at work in the world beyond the endeavour and strength and will of individuals, and that in the end these powers are what determine the outcome of history. In effect, he is learning the hard lesson of faith – faith in Frodo, faith in the supposedly lost wisdom of Gandalf, faith in “fate”.

This is where Aragorn differs mightily from Boromir (ack! I knew he would come up again! ). Boromir has lost his faith, if he ever had any, in those other powers. For Boromir, the only hope is in one’s own strength. He is incapable of letting go and trusting to providence – if there is to be victory, is to be gained by men (by him) through action and attack, not acceptance and denial. His father is a lot like him in this regard, with the result that son and father both give way to despair – for if the only route they see is individual action (martial/warrior heroism) then what hope is there against the forces of Mordor?

Davem has already quite brilliantly pointed to the manner of Frodo’s heroism as it manifests in this chapter. The moment that he is caught between the Eye and the Voice is a terrible trial for him, and his success is what will allow him to make it to the Cracks of Doom:

Suddenly he was aware of himself again. Frodo, neither the Voice nor the Eye: free to choose, and with one remaining instant in which to do so. He took the Ring off his finger.

I think that this moment is as heroic a deed as any recorded in the book. The fact that he was able to remain free to choose, that he could “remain Frodo” and actually take off the Ring speaks volumes for the strength of spirit and will that he will need to carry him through his journey. To go back to Boromir (ack ack ack) – we’ve just seen how entirely corrupted a Man who never even held the Ring has become; and now we see Frodo, bearer of the Ring for years, assailed by Sauron himself, viewing the whole of Middle-earth in turmoil and war (mirroring Denethor’s visions of the Palantir) and he is able to resist. Wow.

The final, and my personal favourite heroic moment in this chapter comes from be beloved Sam Gamgee. It’s one of the moments that thrills me with emotion every time I read it:

’So all my plan is spoilt!’ said Frodo. ‘It is no good trying to escape you. But I’m glad, Sam. I cannot tell you how glad. Come along! It is plain that we were meant to go together. We will go, and may the others find a safe road! Strider will look after them. I don’t suppose we shall see them again.’

‘Yet we may, Mr Frodo. We may,’ said Sam.

Glorious stuff, and the perfect end to Book Two. Here we can see Frodo also achieving a Gandalf/Aragorn like apprehension in his realisation that he and Sam were “meant to go together” but I find it more telling that he places his faith specifically in Aragorn. For Frodo, Aragorn has become an adequate substitute for Gandalf; Frodo feels confident that “Strider will look after them.” This is no small piece of praise!

But the thing I have to point out is Sam’s perfectly beautiful expression that there is hope. Despite where they are going, and what they are going to try and do, somehow, despite all the evidence and in defiance of all common sense, Sam clings to the hope that they might actually live through it and come to a happy day of reunion with their companions. Sam, I think, stands in the starkest contrast to that other member of the Fellowship whom I was not going to write about… (*resigned sigh*).

There’s an interesting pattern in all this:

Boromir has no hope whatsoever in the Quest; he thus gives in to the despair and temptation of the Ring.

Frodo also has no hope in the success of the Quest, but he is willing to endure it for the sake of the faith that he has in Strider and Gandalf; they thought it was a good idea, so he is going to do his best in a hopeless cause.

Like Frodo, Aragorn has faith that things are working toward some conclusion under the aegis of “fate” or unnamed “stronger powers.” He is willing to place his faith in those powers and hope for the best, even if he is not certain of the outcome. I really do see Frodo and Aragorn as a pair in this regard – they are continuing with their quests more for the sake of the faith they feel in others than in any faith they have that their quests will actually turn out well.

And at the furthest end of this ‘spectrum’ is Sam: with his unthinking, irrational hope he is as far from Boromir as one can get, and yet of them all, he is the most right, and has the clearest view. This is something which Aragorn himself points out in this chapter. When Sam explains that he thinks Frodo is going to go on alone to Mordor, Aragorn acknowledges:

‘I believe you speak more wisely than any of us, Sam,’ said Aragorn. ‘And what shall we do, if you prove right?’

The answer to Aragorn’s question will turn out to be, beyond all hope and belief: rejoice at the success of the Quest!