LotR -- Book 6 - Chapter 4 - The Field of Cormallen

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

The contrast between the relationship of Frodo and Sam to that of Sauron and his minions is very striking here. Or at least it struck me. Even after Frodo ‘failed’ his last and greatest test, Sam of his own free will, did not abandon him, but rather moved to rescue his Master in this time of Frodo’s greatest weakness. This was not so with the crowd gathered around Sauron. While the Nazgul did come when called, the army, bereft of his constraining Will, melted away.

At this read through, I could not help but feel that there might have been a bit of a connection been Sauron and Frodo here in the following passage.

'Maybe not, Sam,' said Frodo; 'but it's like things are in the world. Hopes fail. An end comes. We have only a little time to wait now. We are lost in ruin and downfall, and there is no escape.'

To me these words struck me as another apparition of Sauron, given voice by Frodo, a lingering effect of Frodo’s burden. Is this how the dark lord kept his servants in hand, by robbing them of their individual hope so that they believed all rested only in his successes?

And despite Frodo’s strength and courage in bearing the Ring to the end, he must have felt himself the least of the company in Cormallen, after hearing of all their doings in this chapter.

Upon reading this chapter and thread, I get the sense of a great jigsaw puzzle with many pieces. Each piece may not have an idea of their own value, or be able to know on what a truly grand scale the completed picture is, perhaps even encompassing the Valar, yet it could not have been completed without each of them. And the picture honestly is quite beautiful.

Closing with a quote that has been mentioned before, but I think would bear another round. It is one of the most lovely things I have ever read, very true and wonderfully evocative of the feeling that overwhelms the reader.

‘And he sang to them, now in the Elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.’