"A Short Cut To Mushrooms" - Jacob's Thoughts

Back during our discussion of ch. 2, I posited that Tolkien "wants to make sure the point is not lost, that no act of decency is ever wasted," that no matter how enveloping the encroaching darkness, a light can still come through it, "as through a chink in the dark."  My examples then were Bilbo's ultimate pity for Gollum, as well as Gollum's own latent, not-quite-forgotten humanity.

In this chapter, I see that same light shinning through in the basic decency revealed in that terror of Frodo's youth, the imposingly-named Farmer Maggot, who not only calls off the dogs on our intrepid short-cutters, but insists on feeding them dinner, giving them cover to the ferry, and in a touching gesture at the chapter's close, gifting Frodo a bag of the very mushrooms he whipped him for stealing in his youth.  Even before that moment, Frodo expresses regret that he never befriended Farmer Maggot after all these years of needless fear, and it is reassuring to see this warmth and light shimmering through and dissipating his frightened memories.  Frodo is learning even now that the darkness is never as complete as it first may seem (a lesson he'll need to remember in far more dire straits later).  This theme of a light in the dark is something I'd like to start tracking through our readings.

But then, in order for these chinks of light to reassure, the darkness itself must be genuinely threatening; and we get that menace in the Dark Riders, of whom we get the sense in this chapter are slowly circling around, closing in, getting closer.  They anticipated Frodo's shortcut through the mushrooms, getting there merely too early, not too late.  They are actively tracking him and getting better at it.  Their sinister hissing sounds almost like laughter, mocking Farmer Maggot's pitiful threats of releasing the dogs (who themselves cower in fear before them), which hints at the dark profundity of their power.  The question is no longer whether Frodo can avoid them, but only for how long. 

So I suppose here's a paradox presented in this chapter: the darkness is never as complete as Frodo fears, but the actual darkness is also far worst than he realizes; Frodo was afraid of the congenial Farmer Maggot, but unaware that the Dark Riders are what should be scaring the bejeezes out of him right now.  How is our Frodo, scared of barking dogs, going to face the fires of Mordor?  This chapter in a sense is a good mile-post for marking Frodo's slow growth as a character; he's not ready to face the worst yet (not even close), but we can see how one day he might--or, at least, how he'll have to.

This chapter is thus good for fleshing out Frodo's character, of whom I've lately realized that, besides a vague yearning for the "mountains" and general sentimental longing for Uncle Bilbo, really hasn't been given any distinguishing characteristics.  He's still somewhat of a cipher, a stock-figure, a place-holder for the reader on this journey.  Maybe it's his sufferings that will finally reveal Frodo to us; but then, come to think of it, it's our sufferings that reveals all of us, to each other and to ourselves, isn't it.