LotR -- Book 2 - Chapter 03 - The Ring goes South

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

I too have always very much liked the animus shown the Fellowship by the mountain. The ‘living land’ that is so much a part of LotR is shown here to be no beneficent force for good – no sheltering ‘mother nature’ but an utterly alien and unforgiving presence in the world that you take lightly only at your peril. The ambiguity of the mountain’s allegiance nicely dovetails with Treebeard’s claim not to be on “anyone’s side”. I mean, it makes sense for the mountain not to care who wins the contest between good and evil, since both sides treat the mountain the same way (as a source of mithril or something to be got over when you are heading out for your journey into history).

As to the nine: according to some Anglo-Saxon texts that deal with the symbolic function of numbers, nine is the number of incompletion and forward-looking action (it’s not 10, but it can be with just one more number added on). It’s interesting that Frodo will be left with nine fingers at the end of his journey, is it not…? Also, the number 20 is the number of fulfillment and completion; of totality and completed labour. All told there are, of course, 20 rings (9 for Men + 7 for Dwarves + 3 for Elves + the 1 = 20).

Thank you davem for the quote about batmen – it was tremendously illuminating! Although I must admit that I found that rather condescending tone of the officer toward his batman to be somewhat disturbing, particularly when put beside some of the earlier moments in LotR in which we can almost see Frodo responding to Sam in the same way. The bit about the batman following the officer out of the trench and being beside him when he falls…it just seems to have the odour of a man who is taking his ‘subordinate’ a bit for granted. I mean, can you imagine that writer cutting a batman who actually ran for cover some slack?

There’s one other aspect of this chapter that I would like to raise, and that is the question of story-telling and, more importantly, story-ending. This is one of the most wildly important ideas in the book, and it doesn’t really start until this chapter. One of my favourite all-time moments in LotR begins when Bilbo asks:

‘What about helping me with my book, and making a start on the next? Have you thought of an ending?’

‘Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant,’ said Frodo.

‘Oh, that won’t do!’ said Bilbo. ‘Books ought to have good endings. How would this do: and they all settled down and lived together happily ever after?’

‘It will do well, if it ever comes to that,’ said Frodo.

‘Ah!’ said Sam. ‘And where will they live? That’s what I often wonder.’

In this one exchange we have one of the book’s clearest moments of character depiction, and it’s accomplished through the hobbits’ attitude toward stories. Bilbo believes quite naively that stories “ought to have happy endings” and actually looks ahead to a time when Frodo might be able to live “happily ever after”. Of course, Frodo has already (thanks to his experience with the Morgul Blade and at the fords) begun to realise that this is not possible. In fact, he’s begun to give into despair: “all are dark and unpleasant.”

It’s up to Sam to bring things back down to earth and point out that at the end of this story the characters will have to face what everyone faces at the supposed ‘end’ of their stories (which are really just stages in an ongoing process of living). In a sense these three hobbits in this one little exchange are enacting the entire nature and history of Middle-Earth. On the one hand is the desire for a happy ending that may once have been possible, before the music of creation was marred by evil and things began to fall apart; more significantly, before Feanor et al swore that blasted oath. On the other hand is the despair that threatens to overcome, and does overcome, too many people who begin to believe that the happy ending is impossible (as opposed to unlikely) and thus pave the way for evil. It’s up to the people like Sam to realise that the true hope lies in working toward a proper ‘home’ for oneself at the end of the journey – neither getting lost and blinded in a continual backward look to the ‘good old days’ when everything was bright and happy endings seemed the norm (like the Elves, constantly yearning for the Sunless Years and trying to preserve the past despite the fact that the world is becoming the site for new stories and new tales by new tellers), nor giving in to the despairing conviction that there is only one bad end possible (which is both Sauron’s line and being).

It’s up to Elrond to point out the one very important thing about stories – it is something that Sam will later realise on the Stairs of Cirith Ungol – that the people in the stories do not know how they will end:

‘yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road.’

This is why that motif of being in a story is so useful to understanding the book, for it turns on the whole free will/providence bugbear that will become more and more pressing as the story unfolds. Are Frodo and the Fellowship in a story that they are writing, an that is why the end is not known, or are they being written into a story by some force that is keeping the end from them? In the final analysis, I think that it might be irrelevant which it is since in either case there is always room for hope – hope that you can make a difference, or hope that something beneficent is in charge. What there is no room for are certainties: either that it will all turn out “happily ever after” or wholly “dark and unpleasant”.

[Tuor of Gondolin]

For an interesting interpretation (by a Christian Periodical) on hope and faith in
Middle-earth (but which really draws on "The Stairs Of Cirith Ungol" rather then "The Ring Heads South" for a source:

http://www.findarticles.com/p/articl...0/ai_107760354

And a quote from "The Stairs Of Cirith Ungol", but one that can be extended to this chapter, and all the way back to the Silmarillion and past Bilbo's adventure:

'Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours. But that's a long tale, of course, and goes on past the happiness and into grief and beyond it-and the Silmaril went on and came to earendil. And why sir, I never thought of that before! We've got-you've got some of the light of it in that star-glass that the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we're in the same tale still! It's going on. Don't the great tales never end?' 'No, they never end, as tales,' said Frodo. 'But the people in them come and go when their part's ended.'

Okay, the above is probably 90% off-topic to this chapter , but it may
be a bit relevant to above themes of a story going on and of hope?

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Interesting thoughts about story endings, Fordim! Tuor has already connected them to the end of the story, and I'd like to point out a previous quote, one that I like very much. In 'The Council of Elrond', Bilbo already mentioned the subject:

I was very comfortable here, and getting on with my book. If you want to know, I am just writing an ending for it. I had thought of putting: and he lived happily ever afterwards to the end of his days. It is a good ending, and none the worse for having been used before. Now I shall have to alter that: it does not look like coming true; and anyway there will evidently have to be several more chapters, if I live to write them. (bolding mine)

This seems to be more about a personal happy ending than a general one - whether or not Bilbo has one depends on whether he is the one who has to take the Ring, in which case there is also the question of whether or not he will survive to tell the story's end. As I see it, Bilbo got his happy ending, but at least in Middle-earth, there was none for the Ringbearer Frodo - though he did live to write the necessary chapters about the War of the Ring!

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

It's funny how oaths made this chapter reveal much.

[Elrond: ]The Ringbearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servants of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. (LotR II 1)

(Oh yeah, my book's back! )

It doesn't mention anything about actually destroying the Ring, which is just as well, as he is not the one to accomplish the mission. But he did take the Ring to Mt. Doom.

But how come Elrond did not mention the destruction of the Ring as part of Frodo's charge - after all, that's what they talked about in the previous chapter, right? Was he given some super-foresight to see that the Ring will not be destroyed by this Hobbit? Or perhaps he thought the whole affair undoable from the beginning, and like Frodo, he only thinks that they could go as far as their strengths could carry them before the Enemy overwhelms them.

Hope in Middle-earth is a crazy concept. But it does make for great stories.

Nine.

Might not the number nine represents a totality of sorts? The Aratar, the nine ships of Elendil the Faithful, and the Fellowship all represent a consummation of one sort or another.

I don't know about the Nazgûl though. Can anyone help me here?

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Esty, you wrote:

As I see it, Bilbo got his happy ending

Perhaps I am jaded by my own experience of life but I really don't see Middle-Earth as being a place where anyone has a "happy ending". There are joyful endings, but there is also a profound melancholy at these moments of change. Endings are time of upheaval and movement and continuing action for Tolkien -- this is one of the things that really distinguishes his art. Aragorn and Arwen are married, that is sure, but they do so under the knowledge that Aragorn will die, and now Arwen will die as well, and they will both be parted from Elrond forever. The brief moment (really looking ahead!) in which we hear of how Elrond and Arwen spend a day walking in the White Mountains before he departs is heart rending. Even Bilbo's passing into the West is not what I would call a "happy" ending -- he is still thinking about the Ring, still hoping that the story can be finished by those who come after, when we know that the story will never end.

Who among us finds the final line of the book "happy"? Joyful, yes, but there is a sense that as fulfilling as Sam's life will be now, it is somehow lesser and smaller. The whole story "winds down" rather than ends, and there are more stories to be told (the Appendices) not all of them entirely happy.

That's why I hold to my opinion that Bilbo, much as I love the old fellow, is naive -- perhaps even dangerously naive, since the only other people in the book who share his belief in endings, that it can all wrap up and 'stop' just the way one wants it -- are figures like Sauron or Saruman!

[davem]

Oh, but I think happy endings are possible in Middle earth, because whether the ending is 'happy' or not depends on the individual's own judgement, not on some external criteria. And it doesn't matter whether we as readers would consider the ending to be happy, either.

It seems to me that Bilbo would have said that his story had a happy ending, & so would Sam. Their parts of the story had happy endings, whether the story as a whole did or not.

In short, I don't think happiness is something objective.

There are joyful endings, but there is also a profound melancholy at these moments of change.

But its possible to feel melancholy at the end of a happy story, because the 'happiness' has ended for us with the ending of the story. I felt melancholy at the end of my first reading of the Hobbit, even though it had a happy ending, because it was over. In other words, we have to distinguish between our feelings & the feelings of the characters.

That's why I hold to my opinion that Bilbo, much as I love the old fellow, is naive

Maybe, but naive people can still experience happiness - in fact, I think they're more likely to.

[HerenIstarion]

Originally Posted by Fordim

much as I love the old fellow, is naive -- perhaps even dangerously naive, since the only other people in the book who share his belief in endings, that it can all wrap up and 'stop' just the way one wants it -- are figures like Sauron or Saruman-

At a time of council I suppose he knows it as well as any. Not all poems in Red Book are happily ending. He's making a joke, he's gently mocking his own younger self out - the self of the time when his There and Back journey took place. I certainly remember the sentence of 'we hobbits can't talk seriously, we have to joke about it, but it does not mean we do not get it'. (I will try to locate quote proper for you when I have the time) It is not sarcasm, rather self-effacement, he makes - smiley, remembering recent discussion on the issue

cheers

[Bêthberry]

Fordim wrote
Who among us finds the final line of the book "happy"? Joyful, yes, but there is a sense that as fulfilling as Sam's life will be now, it is somehow lesser and smaller. The whole story "winds down" rather than ends, and there are more stories to be told (the Appendices) not all of them entirely happy.

This reminds me quite forcibly of T.S.Eliot's "The Hollow Men."

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang, but a whimper.

I think for both Tolkien and Eliot, the wrenching changes of the early twentieth century were cause for profound melancoly at the passing of a world, an ethos, an entire cultural reference. Both writers in many ways strove to gather what they could of those passing values in hopes they would not be lost entirely. So, Fordim, I would suggest that reading Bilbo might require less a recourse to "our own experience of life" and more a consideration of the tenor of the story. To me, Bilbo's comments about writing should be seen within the gentle humour the elves show him and an almost sweetly or gently patronising attitude about the writer who is always talking about writing but never getting it done. Bilbo acknowledges, "I can't count the days in Rivendell." To me, Bilbo's time there has always signified an affectionate and gentle senility lived out in an "assissted living environment" , if I can use those words without being thought too negative.

davem posted:

Its certainly interesting to speculate on how far Tolkien had gone down the road to the idea of 'Morgoth's Ring' at this stage. Had he formulated the idea that Middle earth had been infected by an external evil in the form of Morgoth's malice yet, or was it more a case of 'the world, the flesh & the devil' - ie, the material world, matter itself, is a source of evil?

Seen in the context of the later idea, we could see Morgoth's malice deliberately targetting the Fellowship, but this isn't what comes across to me - nor does any feeling of Middle earth being 'evil' - its more that it has its own 'desires', its own emotions, almost, anger, pain, joy, etc,

I would agree that, in terms of LotR alone--which is all I think we should consider here-- there is no sense of malice. Indeed, I would even go farther to suggest that such an attitude might reflect a serious error: to see the world solely in terms of the needs of men or hobbits. This would be, for my reading of the book, the arrogance of human centrism, believing that Eru had created Arda solely for the personal use of the human races and not for, well, whatever reason motivated his creation. This is why I think it is important that the first defeat of the Fellowship comes not at the hand of an Enemy but of a world which is not designed solely for their own egotistic drives.

My own understanding is that they had to make sure all the Nazgul had been completely 'disembodied', which would force their return to Mordor, as they could not 're-embody' themselves. It seems, though I may be wrong, that only Sauron could provide them with the means to function, to have any presence at all, in the physical realm.

I know that is the reason given in the text, but I asked why Elrond had to delay because I think it is related to my point above: it is a decision which puts the Fellowship in more harm by causing their departure under inclement conditions. The messengers had no trouble passing over the mountain. Yet the Fellowship had to have trouble. Had Nazul been discovered to be embodied, how would that have changed the plans? Indeed, I cannot see how it would. The decision reflects, to me, a good intention but a flawed one and in that flaw lies part of the inexpressible melancoly of LotR, the poignancy of the 'long defeat.'

[HerenIstarion]

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

Indeed, I cannot see how it would. The decision reflects, to me, a good intention but a flawed one and in that flaw lies part of the inexpressible melancoly of LotR, the poignancy of the 'long defeat.'

I see the point. I agree with it. But it seems also that Tolkien needed the Fellowship to set out on December 25 for the whole affair to have more explicitly symbolic meaning.

[davem]

Originally Posted by H-I

I see the point. I agree with it. But it seems also that Tolkien needed the Fellowship to set out on December 25 for the whole affair to have more explicitly symbolic meaning.

Tolkien himself writes in Lobdell: A Tolkien Compass:

:
'The fellowship ... left on December 25th, which then had no sgniificance, since the Yule, or its equivalent, was then the last day of the year & the first of the next year. But December 25th (setting out) & March 25th (accomplishment of the quest) were intentionally chosen by me'

'A guide to the names in LotR'

Originally Posted by Bb

Indeed, I would even go farther to suggest that such an attitude might reflect a serious error: to see the world solely in terms of the needs of men or hobbits. This would be, for my reading of the book, the arrogance of human centrism, believing that Eru had created Arda solely for the personal use of the human races and not for, well, whatever reason motivated his creation.

I think the qustion is whether its the sentient races who have 'fallen out of harmony' with the Land or vice versa. If all things proceeded from Eru in the beginning, then they should all have been in harmony at one time. The fact that they aren't is what seems to have led Tolkien to come up with the idea of 'Morgoth's Ring'.