Again what I am noticing is how sparse the descriptions are.
Very little is described other than Gandalf’s bushy eyebrows and the ring itself. The story moves
along (even more so in this chapter) purely by dialogue. The dialogue drives exposition
and establishes the story’s First Great Quest: get the hell out of the Shire.
I think Tolkien did something very clever that most authors
that are experienced know what to do: do not bring the backstory up immediately.
Tolkien takes his time establishing Grubbs and Chubbs and Bagginses so that a
real, breathing world is established. Once that is done, and the reader
actually cares, Tolkien lays out a backstory that lays out the quest. This
chapter wasn’t the most riveting since I already knew all of the backstory, but
that’s not fair to Tolkien in terms of the chapter's merit. I recall being much more interested in this chapter
when I was younger and didn’t know about rings of power and such. So to the
experienced Tolkien reader, nothing new is established, and the text is a little slow. But to the new initiate, I remember this chapter
being much more engaging during the first read when wanted to learn about the
rings.
So in terms of a hero’s journey analysis, this fits right
in: the story begins with a mundane sense of normality. Invitations are sent, a
party occurs, and something menacing is foreshadowed. Then, in this chapter,
the call to adventure occurs. Frodo must leave the Shire. (Interesting to note
that the First Quest isn't the final quest. A Second Quest occurs later in the book in Rivendell that requires Frodo to actually go to Mordor itself and destroy the ring.) So
far I’d say LOTR is following the hero’s formula pretty closely.
Sam gets caught during this exposition with his shears, which was a clever
way to bring in a sidekick, if I may say so. Sam gets some good lines right off the bat. Gandalf
asks, “how long have you been eavesdropping?” And Sam replies, “Eavesdropping,
sir? I don’t follow you, begging your pardon. There ain’t no eaves at Bag End,
and that’s a fact.”
What a smartass, and Gandalf rightly calls him out on it: “Don’t be a fool! What have you heard, and why did you listen?” Gandalf’s eyes flashed and his brows stuck out like bristles.
What a smartass, and Gandalf rightly calls him out on it: “Don’t be a fool! What have you heard, and why did you listen?” Gandalf’s eyes flashed and his brows stuck out like bristles.
That last line right there I think answers the question of how
are we able to visualize Gandalf so well. Tolkien is using a classic writer’s
trick to zero-in on a particular detail of a character, and then amplify it. In
other words, Tolkien regularly references Gandalf’s bushy eyebrows to make the
character come alive.
Now, what’s interesting here is that compared to earlier on,
Sam comes across as a bumbling idiot, while earlier he was a noble, thoughtful
fellow arguing against Ted the Sandyman that strange happenings were occurring.
(Ben rightfully points this out.) And while I agree that it could just simply
be a flaw in the writing, I also think that when a wizard like Gandalf is
staring you down, and you think you’re going to be changed into a toad, your
personality might change. So this can be reconciled to some degree.
But a particular plot hole, that is not reconciled, is why Gandalf just didn't toss the ring in the fireplace twelve years
ago to make sure it’s the One Ring? For an omnipotent wise-old wizard that (later
on) kills a Balrog and can spot Sam's not-so-obvious lie (sarcasm), he certainly seems an idiot. (Now, scholars defending the book might point out that maybe Gandalf
learned that little fire trick just recently, but I don’t buy it. I think it’s
a legitimate plot hole that needed to be directly addressed.)
In response to your question, Ben, I did read the Similarion
long ago and remember finding it to be memorably dull. (By that I mean I particularly
remember it being dull.) I remember that Morgoth wasn’t such a nice guy, and I
remember that Sauron was a lieutenant, and that men chose to be men instead of
elves, and later generations cursed their ancestors for that foolish decision.
I can totally understand where those men are coming from—I think I would curse
them too. Who wouldn’t want to live as an immortal who never suffered disease?
(Though, as food for thought, perhaps we all are just descendants of those very
men that chose not to be elves. Possible, right? And kind of depressing. We could have been elves.)
Although I think I will address this later, Ben is correct
that removing Gandalf was critical to raising the stakes in the story. You’ve
got to get rid of the helper for the hero to truly grow. Now, what’s
interesting is, Gandalf helps later on, but not early on. I’ll discuss this
later in more detail. But don't bring it up yet! Gandalf hasn't left yet!
Jacob makes some astute observations. As he points out, the most gripping
character in the chapter is not even the characters onstage, but trials of
Smeagol and how just a corner of his mind remains his own. Even on a second
read, that to me was the most compelling part of this chapter: that an evil
creature still clings to a yarn of goodness, and that many lives may yet depend
on the pity of Bilbo. A perfectly foreshadowed moment to the ending, and
something worth thinking about for a moment: that without Smeagol, Sauron would
have won.
Speaking of having my memories of the text being overlaid by the films, both you and Ben point out elements of Gandalfs character that I'd forgotten about: his dickishness, and his fallibility. Ian mckellen defines the roll so much now that it's easy to forget that in the text, Gandalf is not yet the polished, wholly benevolent character we've come to remember.
ReplyDeleteSo true! In the movies, Gandalf v.2.0 is simply a more serene version of Gandalf v.1.0. Eric, I think it's funny that you liked Sam's joke and I thought it was lame. To each their own!
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