[The Saucepan Man]

As others have done, I will start out with a quick observation on the notorious fox. Aiwendil said:

This is, as far as I know, one of only two passages in the book that the ostensible authors (Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam) could not even in principle have known about. It raises the interesting but probably trivial question of whether Tolkien had at this stage thought of the hobbits as the authors, and whether he knowingly or unwittingly violated that fiction.

This incident could, of course, be put down to a little poetic licence on the part of Frodo when he came to write up the Red Book of Westmarch (or even an addition by Sam). But it is nevertheless a nice touch. As others have suggested, it marks a stage in the transition of the book from the cheerful and childlike tone of The Hobbit to the often dark and epic piece of writing that it ultimately to becomes.

The Shire remains a comfortable and familiar setting in many ways in this chapter. This, to me is suggested by the terms in which it is described, as well as by Frodo’s reluctance to leave and his nostalgic “last” look back at Hobbiton and the Water valley (both of which also, as Helen has pointed out, tie in with the “torn Frodo” theme). However, it is no longer the idyllic safe haven that it has, up to now, been portrayed as. The previous chapters have given us hints of darkness and danger, but these were always (with the exception of the Ring itself) outside the Shire or on its borders. Now, with the introduction of the Black Riders, we witness evil penetrating into the very heart of the Shire. This feeling is wonderfully summed up by Gildor’s words:

The wide world is all about you: you can fence yourselves in, but you cannot for ever fence it out.

As has been suggested in the discussions of the preceding chapters, Tolkien is presenting us, in the Shire, with a place with which we can identify. It is therefore all the more shocking to us that such a cosy and familiar land can so easily be penetrated by darkness and evil. As others have said, Gildor’s words serve as a warning to us all.

Moving on to the Black Riders themselves, Aiwendil said of the encounters with them in this chapter:

These episodes are no more or less than they ought to be: they are enough to indicate to us that the Hobbits are really in great danger and to make us nervous whenever hooves or dark shapes or sniffing is mentioned, but they are not so much that we yet know what sort of creatures these riders are, or what their powers are.)

I would agree with this, but there is much to be said for the way in which Tolkien builds up our understanding of them through these three encounters. Evisse the Blue said:

The first glimpse the hobbits get of them is meant to arouse curiosity in the reader, rather than satisfy it

Which is true. We learn very little about them in this chapter. However, each encounter adds a little bit more to our understanding and, perhaps more importantly, our impression of them. Fordim commented how Tolkien develops them throughout the book:

Reading over the posts I've thought of something about the Black Riders that I've not before. Like Frodo and the landscape through which he moves, they start out as relatively familiar things that only become more terrible and 'exotic' as the story goes on.

And, to my mind, this is (on a lesser scale) true of their portrayal in this chapter alone. As Azaelia of Willbottom said:

The suspence is built slowly but intensely and irresistably. There is fear, but not too much: like the readers, the hobbits don't fully comprehend the dangers they are facing.

And I think that it is worth examining the manner in which Tolkien builds up the suspense through his portrayal of the Black Riders, since I think that he achieves this wonderfully.

As Fordim has said, our (and Frodo’s) first encounter with a Black Rider is almost banal. He simply overhears “someone” asking the Gaffer as to his whereabouts. Frodo is not unduly concerned by the incident, assuming that it is simply another inquisitive and curious Hobbit, and we have no reason to think any different. Yet, there is a sense of unease:

Footsteps went away down the Hill. Frodo wondered vaguely why the fact that they did not come on up the Hill seemed a great relief.

And then there is the almost throw-away line “he thought better (or worse) of it …” suggesting that it might in fact have been better had Frodo questioned the Gaffer as to the identity of the inquirer. But there is nothing here to suggest his true (and terrifying) nature.

Our next encounter provides us with a description (which enables Sam to identify the Rider as the “strange customer” asking after Mr Baggins at Bagshot Row).

Round the corner came a black horse, no hobbit-pony but a full-sized horse; and on it sat a large man, who seemed to crouch in the saddle, wrapped in a great black cloak and hood, so that only his boots in the high stirrups showed below; his face was shadowed and invisible.

The description clearly suggests that this Rider may be a threat. He is a “large man” shrouded in black. His face is obscured. And he seems to be searching for travellers on the road. All of these factors suggest danger. Yet there is still nothing to suggest that he is anything other than a man (save perhaps for the disturbing “sniffing”). Frodo’s “sudden desire” to hide from the Rider, and his temptation to put on the Ring tell us that something is wrong. Yet, while the Hobbits are unnerved, they are not terrified (Frodo describes the incident as “queer and … disturbing”).

However, in the third encounter, Tolkien starts in earnest to bring out their fearsome and inhuman nature. The Rider is no longer described in terms of a man, but as “something dark” passing across the “lighter space between two trees”. Frodo sees no more than “the black shade of a horse led by a smaller black shadow”. The suspense is heightened yet further as the shadow starts to crawl towards him. Frodo’s desire to don the Ring is stronger than before. The images take on a nightmarish quality and we are left with the (correct) impression that there is more to this creature than simply a man shrouded in a black cloak.

The final piece of jigsaw is provided by Gildor’s refusal to tell Frodo what the Black Riders are. Personally, I’m with Frodo when he says that Gildor’s “hints and warnings” are more terrifying that anything that he might imagine (again “dehumanising” them). But finally we have confirmed what we have already suspected from their increasingly fearsome portrayal:

Is it not enough to know that they are Servants of the Enemy?

And so now we know enough about them to understand the terror that they bring when we next encounter them in the following chapter.

There's an interesting comparison to Frodo there - he and his friends finished off the Old Winyards at the birthday party. Is there a class difference between the wine and the beer drinkers in there? (Estelyn)

Undoubtedly. The difference, in terms of social class, between Sam and the other Hobbits has been evident from the beginning. Sam and his father go to the pub and drink beer, whereas the others have house parties and drink wine. Sam is Frodo’s gardener. Notably, Sam does not join Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Fatty and Folco for the birthday dinner (although he does take tea with Frodo and Pippin before they leave). Also, as others have suggested, the fact that Pippin “orders” Sam to prepare the breakfast and get the hot water when they wake up in their impromtu campsite, albeit (in my view) said jokingly, does suggest that he considers Sam in terms of a servant.

Like it or not (and much has been said on other threads on this topic), this is the character that Tolkien has chosen for Sam, at least at the outset, and these details, together with Sam addressing Frodo as “sir” are all, as Aiwendil has pointed out, necessary for his characterisation.

As I said in the discussion of it, I am not overly taken with Sam’s portrayal at end of the previous chapter since, to my mind, he verges on the buffoon of the Bakshi cartoon. There is, however, a line in this chapter which I think sums up Sam perfectly, and sets up what become essential aspects of his character: his selflessness and devotion to Frodo. Just as they are setting out on their journey, Frodo comments on the weight of his pack:

“I could take a lot more yet, sir. My packet is quite light,” said Sam stoutly and untruthfully.

Pippin’s response, too, helps to establish his light-hearted and cheeky nature:

“No you don’t, Sam! said Pippin. “It is good for him. He’s got nothing except what he ordered us to pack. He’s been slack lately and he’ll feel the weight less when he’s walked off some of his own.”

Frodo, of course, recognises Sam’s selflessness in having taken more than his fair share of the burden and resolves to address matters at their next packing. In just this one short, almost insignificant, conversation, Tolkien tells us volumes about his central characters.

Incidentally, I detected what I suspect might be a gentle pun in the Hobbits’ departure from Bag End. Frodo calls “Sam! Time!” to indicate to Sam that it is time to go, prompting Sam to appear from the cellar where he had been “saying farewell to the beer-barrel”. In pubs, the landlord calls “Time!” to signal the end of the period during which the premises are licensed to serve alcoholic beverages.

Finally, a minor gripe. The road which the Hobbits take through Green Hill Country is described as one which is “not much used, being hardly fit for carts”. I find this strange since, according to the map of the Shire, it is the only road to Tuckborough, which I should imagine to be a fairly large settlement.

Far too long, as usual. And too many "As X said"s. But then, you all make such wonderful points ...