[Fordim Hedgethistle]

“A Journey in the Dark” indeed! This is the darkest chapter yet, with the possible exception of that other darksomely titled chapter, “Shadow of the Past.” The supernatural nature of those wolves has always creeped me out, but I’d never really considered it much beyond that until now. Frankly, I don’t know what they are, and I think that is why they are so ‘successful’ as a threat. We don’t know who sent them, why they attacked where they did, what they were, or where they went. It just goes to prove that it’s what you can’t see which scares you the most. Also nicely develops the idea of Sauron as being the master of deception and lies: they weren’t “real” wolves at all, but illusory/empty copies or images of wolves.

But back to the darker elements I was on about. There are a lot of very depressing and even melancholic touches to the chapter, making the ‘journey in the dark’ as much metaphorical as literal. Even before the Fellowship gets to Moria there are any number of quite sad moments: the argument between Gimli and Legolas over the lost friendship between their kinds; Pippin’s self doubts about his usefulness on the journey; Aragorn’s doubts and self recriminations for leading them to “disaster” on Caradhras; Boromir’s continual grumbling and griping. What most significantly stands out for me with Boromir in this chapter is his failure to understand that the Fellowship is not a democracy in which his voice is the equal of the others:

‘I will not go,’ said Boromir; not unless the vote of the whole company is against me. What do Legolas and the little folk say? The Ring-bearer’s voice surely should be heard?’

I mean there he is with the Man he now knows is his King, not to mention Mithrandir, and he is still holding himself forth as their equal, and arguing against them? This does not bode well for the future hopes of Aragorn to rule in Gondor! What’s more, Boromir’s sentiment is rather dismissive of Gimli – is he classing the Dwarf as one of “the little folk” or is he pointedly not seeking his opinion? It’s also chilling that his final attention is to Frodo: is he a little too interested in Frodo already?

Once inside the mines we get the history lesson about the loss of the Dwarven realm. With the added touch that mithril, this fabulous material, has almost entirely been given in tribute to Sauron. This moment is to pile loss upon loss. Then we hear about how Frodo is already beginning to change under the influence of the evil that besets him:

Though he had been healed in Rivendell of the knife-stroke, that grim wound had not been without effect.

And then of course, at the end of the chapter, they find Balin’s tomb. This is a long catalogue of defeat, despair and dismay! But wait, there’s even more! In his repulse of the warg attack, Gandalf is presented as a powerful wizard, champion of good and protector of the Fellowship – but look at how he is described:

In the wavering firelight Gandalf seemed suddenly to grow: he rose up, a great menacing shape like the monument of some ancient king of stone set up on a hill. Stooping like a cloud, he lifted a burning branch and strode to meet the wolves. They gave back before him. High in the air he tossed the blazing brand. It flared with a sudden white radiance like lightning; and his voice rolled like thunder.

Hmmmm…a shadowy “menacing shape” wielding a fiery weapon and roaring like thunder…is it just me or are we being treated to a preview of the Balrog here?

I’m not honestly entirely sure why the chapter seems so determined to be relentlessly bleak. Even in the defeat at Caradhras, the Men were strong enough to find a way through the snow, Legolas made light of it, Gandalf’s fire was a protective and comforting presence, and they ended the chapter alive and safe. This first ‘real’ trial of the Fellowship is much more complete and total. After reading Aiwendil’s engrossing theory about the death of the heroes, it occurred to me that perhaps this chapter is so dark for it marks the death of the Fellowship. In the next chapter, Gandalf, their leader, is about to die and with that the Fellowship will begin to break up. It’s always struck me how brief a time (in the narrative) that the Fellowship is together – really only three chapters, and all three of them are surrounded by defeat and despair. It’s almost as though the purpose of the Fellowship is realised most fully in its failures – they can’t get over Caradhras, they get mired in disputes and unhappiness in Moria, Gandalf falls. Could it be, perhaps, that the role of the Fellowship is a flawed one? We were talking in the last chapter discussion about the relation between the nine walkers and the nine riders – could it be that in the plan to counter Sauron with an ‘equal but opposite force’ they are playing right into his hands? The strategy of the Fellowship is to match Sauron mano-y-mano, but this doesn’t work. Perhaps the Fellowship exists in the tale to show that any such way of thinking, even when undertaken by the good, is doomed to failure, and in the end all we can depend upon is the ‘letting go’ of others and plodding hope of individuals like Frodo and Sam?

Just some scattered thinking to add to the mix.