[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

It's interesting that here, in only the second chapter of the book, we already see the Ring as something that destroys the will of its bearers, which twists and perverts them. From this chapter the reader learns all that is necessary to understanding Gollum and the action of the central item of the story. It also contains one of the best descriptions of an addictive possession that I have ever read:

'All the "great secrets" under the mountains had turned out to be just empty night: there was nothing more to find out, nothing worth doing, only nasty furtive eating and resentful remembering. He was altogether wretched. He hated the dark, and he hated the light more: he hated everything, and the Ring most of all.'

'What do you mean?' said Frodo. 'Surely the Ring was his precious and the only thing he cared for? But if he hated it, why didn't he get rid of it, or go away and leave it?'

'You ought to begin to understand, Frodo, after all you have heard,' said Gandalf. 'He hated it and loved it, as he hated and loved himself. He could not get rid of it. He had no will left in the matter.'

This final comment from Gandalf is chilling. Gollum is utterly alone and debased: he hates his condition and himself, and he hates the Ring, which has brought him lower than he would ever have sunk on his own. Yet he also loves his tormenting 'precious' with a possessive intensity that has utterly consumed his will. The Ring can now drive him without being close to him, without even being within his sight; and the rumours that follow him are more dreadful than any ancient and long-forgotten murder could ever be. In the light of this passage, Gandalf is entirely right. Sméagol's crime and punishment have become a single long nightmare of solitary misery. He no longer loves even himself, and is therefore an object of pity to those who understand. Frodo will come to know what it is to hold the Ring, as will Sam, and both of them will show more mercy than we would believe possible from their talk and actions beforehand. The overall message is, near enough, 'There but for the grace of God go I.'

For those who might be thinking that they have the presence and strength of mind to resist the Ring's blandishments, Tolkien has Gandalf himself explain how he would inevitably fall to evil were he to keep it:

'No!' cried Gandalf, springing to his feet. 'With that power I should have power too great and terrible. And over me the Ring would gain a power still greater and more deadly,' His eyes flashed and his face was lit as if by a fire within. 'Do not tempt me! For I do not wish to become like the Dark Lord himself. Yet the way of the Ring to my heart is by pity, pity for weakness and the desire of strength to do good. Do not tempt me! I dare not take it, not even to keep it safe, unused. The wish to wield it would be too great for my strength. I shall have such need of it. Great perils lie before me.'

This establishes two points: it tells us that even Gandalf is not sufficiently strong to resist the Ring for any length of time, and that the Ring has a way into every heart, no matter how strong or wise it may be. Later in the book we will discover that there is an exception, but that character is exceptional in more ways than one.

This chapter is one of foreshadowing, of chains of events set in motion many centuries in the past, leading into a dark and uncertain future. At present, the Shire appears a safe and peaceful place, but the gathering storm is already affecting it as harried refugees bring dark and strange stories to its borders. Seen in the light of the book's ending, Frodo's words about the Shire have an air of pathos about them: "I feel that as long as the Shire lies behind, safe and comfortable, I shall find wandering more bearable: I shall know that somewhere there is a firm foothold, even if my feet cannot stand there again." The Shire will cease to be a foothold, and it will require saving more than once before the story is over.

Other things are hinted at here that have yet to demonstrate their importance. The tree-man seen by Sam's cousin Halfast, present from very early in the development, hints at the existence of the Ents. It is interesting to note that this incident is present long before Tolkien knew anything about Fangorn Forest or Treebeard. The discussion of this incident between Sam and Ted Sandyman also gives us a chance to see the sort of circular arguments that Hobbits use when presented with something unfamiliar or frightening. It's another piece of social observation, funny in its way, but threatening in the light of the general atmosphere: Sandyman's words have the ominous overtones of someone who is wilfully ignoring the truth:

'All right,' said Sam, laughing with the rest. 'But what about these Tree-men, these giants, as you might call them? They do say that one bigger than a tree was seen up away beyond the North Moors not long back.'
'Who's they?'
'My cousin Hal for one. He works for Mr. Boffin at Overhill and goes up to the Northfarthing for the hunting. He saw one.'
'Says he did, perhaps. Your Hal's always saying he's seen things; and maybe he sees things that ain't there.'
'But this one was as big as an elm tree, and walking - walking seven yards to a stride, if it was an inch.'
'Then I bet it wasn't an inch. What he saw was an elm tree, as like as not.'
'But this one was walking, I tell you; and there ain't no elm tree on the North Moors.'
'Then Hal can't have seen one,' said Ted. There was some laughing and clapping: the audience seemed to think that Ted had scored a point.

Already the weaknesses in the Shire that will topple it to Saruman are becoming evident, and one of the conspirators in its collapse is demonstrating the myopic lack of thought that will help to bring about the fallen wizard's dominion.

I'm beginning to get ahead of myself again, so I shall leave off while there are still points to be made.