(I'm heading to Chicago this weekend, so I'm putting this post up a day early).
I was a sensitive child growing up--and often a frightened one. Thank goodness I had such kind, nurturing parents growing up, or who knows how I might have turned out. I suspect my parents suspected it to, for unlike Eric and Ben, I wasn't introduced to the unsettling world of The Hobbit till the ripe old age of 10, which I dutifully read mainly to please my parents. My Mom immediately encouraged me to move on to The Lord of the Rings right after, in what part of me suspects was an attempt to toughen me up.
I mention this because, after the whimsy and fun of The Hobbit and "A Long Expected Party," the tone takes a decidedly darker turn in "The Shadow of the Past." There are rumors of Dark Lords returning, Dwarves and Elves are immigrating to havens, and magic rings that were just prankish toys a novel ago suddenly have such alarming side-effects as enslaving your mind and thinning you out of existence, leaving you an invisible ghost sans body, sans soul (a thought I found horrifying even just a day ago, let alone as a quiet 10-year-old). As Ben noted, the playful morning smoke-rings of Gandalf with Bilbo in The Hobbit has been replaced by a brooding fireplace with Frodo at night, discussing the advancing darkness. The contrast couldn't be clearer. As of chapter 2, Tolkien has fired his warning shots: we are no longer in children's novel territory; the easily terrified need not apply.
Though my memories of my first reading are sadly dimmer than Ben and Eric's, I do remember having the distinct impression by pg. 100 that if I was going to finish this series (if for no other reason than to not disappoint Mom), then I would have to steel myself mentally for this long journey in the same way Frodo must here. Nowadays, I can read, say, House of Leaves or Samuel Beckett without qualm, but it was a long road getting here, and I do think it started with my first reading of Lord of the Rings.
Of course, this chapter isn't all darkness, not totally--Gandalf makes three observations about Bilbo's stewardship of the Ring that gives us hope for not only Frodo, but also for the existence of basic goodness in this world.
First: on the topic of Bilbo's final renunciation of the Ring, Gandalf says, "For he gave it up in the end of his own accord: an important point." After several pages on how the Ring can obsess your mind and waste your body, this reassurance that one can still break one's addiction to this most awful of drugs really is encouraging.
Second: in response to Frodo's cry of "what a pity that Bilbo didn't kill Gollum when he had the chance," Gandalf replies, "Pity? It was pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to
strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure
that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end,
because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity." A more cruel novel might have punished every good deed, as Bilbo's pity inadvertently betrays the entire Shire; but here Gandalf (and presumably Tolkien too) wants to make sure the point is not lost, that no act of decency is ever wasted. (And in case any one wondered if Tolkien had planned out the entire series from the beginning before writing, Gandalf's "the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many--yours not least" is a strong clue to the affirmative!)
Third, and most important: as Gandolf explains, "The Ring was trying to get back to its master. It had slipped from
Isildur's hand and betrayed him; then when a chance came it caught poor
Deagol, and he was murdered; and after that Gollum, and it had devoured
him. It could make no further use of him...So now, when its master was awake once more and sending out his
dark thought from Mirkwood, it abandonded Gollum. Only to be picked up
by the most unlikely person imaginable: Bilbo from the Shire!"
Here's the line I really want to emphasize: "Behind
that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the
Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought."
An encouraging thought indeed! After the titular "Shadows" of this chapter have near enveloped the world beyond saving, Gandalf makes clear that different forces are also at play, much brighter ones, that even an ancient Dark Lord of unimaginable terror cannot anticipate. The Ring may be powerful, but it is not omnipotent! There is hope yet. As Gandalf says of Gollum, "Even Gollum was not wholly ruined. He had proved tougher than even one
of the Wise could have guessed--as a hobbit might. There was a little
corner of his mind that was still his own, and light came through it, as
through a chink in the dark: light out of the past." The same could be said of this chapter--a light came through it, as through a chink in the dark.
This chapter is a data dump done right. It is made up of insinuation, implication, dark hints that are more frightening in their obscurity than all of Peter Jackson's blunt obviousness and CGI battle sequences.
As I alluded to in my post, I've always wondered just what Tolkien meant by that "higher power" business. Some of the more supernatural stuff later in the books can be attributed to Tolkien's "gods," the Valar, like Sam and Frodo receiving strength in darkness and things like that. But this seems beyond that, and I'm just not sure what he had in mind.
ReplyDeleteYou did a great job at pointing out how he's masterfully blended despair and hope throughout the exposition. I think I was a bit more cynical in my read; I'm glad to see it came across clearly for you.