The answer: Yes, in the context of the narrative structure of LOTR. While Tom's presence lends itself to some interesting comments on the themes Tolkien will develop throughout the novel (and as an aside, this in and of itself is a problem, because those themes have not yet been developed or even introduced yet, thus rendering such nuances over the heads of first-time readers), he has no place in the book as far as plot or structure goes. Tom is just a blip on Our Heroes' radar, not to be mentioned again (save once or twice as throw-off references) in the entire rest of the books.
Tom would have been great in a book like The Hobbit (if not, perhaps, in The Hobbit itself), but LOTR is not The Hobbit. Side-quests and one-off episodes such as this have no place in the tale Tolkien will reveal himself to be telling. Interestingly enough, this might have made Tom more palatable to the first-time, 1940's reader rather than to the voracious 21st-century readers. Readers when the books first came out might have been expecting Hobbit-like side-quests rather than the streamlined narrative many readers today demand.
All right. Enough with the hate in terms of the overarching narrative of the books. Yes, Tolkien probably should have cut old Tom. But they didn't -- and here he is -- and so we must deal with him. So what did I think?
Interestingly enough, a lot of my thoughts this time were about Goldberry. In some ways, Tom has been talked about to death, and I'll be talking him to death some more, so let's spend some time on "the daughter of the river." Tolkien's women, unfortunately, have taken some perhaps well-deserved criticism over the years. Many of them (and I use "many" in the lightest of senses, because so few of them appear in the books at all) are subjected to the worst kind of pedestal-setting. Take Goldberry. Here we have a woman who appears, at first glance, to be the ultimate achievement in domesticity -- she is beautiful and dutiful, setting the table for Tom and the Hobbits and letting them gawk at her constantly. Goldberry is adored (in the "worshipped" sense of the word) by the Hobbits for her beauty and grace, her otherworldliness, and her abilities in the home. I'm afraid feminist critics would have a field day with the descriptions of Frodo and Co.'s worship of her:
"Goldberry busied herself about the table; and their eyes followed her, for the slender grace of her movement filled them with quiet delight."I'm sure Tolkien meant this to come across in the "tender goddess" sort of way instead of the "creepy men come over to drool over their new friend's gorgeous wife," but that's how it comes across in a way. Goldberry begins with the beauty and grace and never gets past that stage. She is idolized, and is belittled as a result. The insinuation that Tom found her in a stream one day and took her home and claimed her doesn't help things much when we learn about her apparent origins later on.
The one thing that I did find interesting about Goldberry this time around was the insinuation that Goldberry literally was the rain that fell upon the house throughout the Hobbits' full day at Tom's. Goldberry is gone when they wake up and the rain has already begun, and while they hear her voice, they do not see her until that evening when the rain has stopped (and her clothes have changed to reflect the change in weather, as well). Goldberry is associated with rain and streams and rivers throughout, both in descriptions and Tom's overt story about how he met her.
That of course brings me to the big question a fan of the Tolkien legendarium must ask about Tom and Goldberry -- what in the heck ARE they? And, for that matter, what is "Old Man Willow", or "The Great Willow," as Tom calls him at one point? As far as the evil tree goes, it might be easy to say that the Willow is a Huron (a tree turned Ent-ish, as Treebeard will describe them in "Two Towers") or an Ent become "tree-ish." Except the kind of power that Old Man Willow wields seems beyond that of even an Ent or powerful Huron. Tom describes how the Willow has extended his influence throughout the entire Old Forest, and how it is still spreading and seeking to grow continually. The Hobbits' interactions with him don't really square with what we learn about Ents and Hurons in later books, as well.
So what are they? Well, the second obvious answer is "Maiar." In Tolkien's legendarium, the "Gods," or pre-mortal spirits that attended Eru in the creation, are divided into the Valar (greater gods) and Maiar (lesser gods). The Maiar pop up a lot in the Silmarillion; one of the principal Elf protagonists is married to Melian the Maia, who together are the parents of Lúthien (and thus is one of the ancestors of Aragorn). Gandalf and Saruman are Maia. The Balrog is a Maia spirit of fire. Heck, Sauron is a Maia. So basically everything that doesn't fall into one of the easy categories of Mortals (Men, Elves, Dwarves, Ents, Hobbits -- and their various evil offshoots like Orcs) can probably be considered a Maia of some form or fashion. It would make sense that the "Great Willow" is a lesser Maia spirit of some sort, inseparably connected to the Forest.
This doesn't entirely square with Tom's description of himself, however. He was here "before the Dark Lord came from Outside." What does that mean? Is he referring to when Sauron crept back into the World in the Second Age after Morgoth's defeat? Or is he talking about when Morgoth came to Arda in the first place, waaaay back before the First Age? He says that he witnessed when the Elves came West for the first time, and when the Stars were the only lights in the sky, so he must mean the latter -- he was in Arda even prior to Morgoth.
This tells me one of two things: He was a semi-rebellious Maia who was just that interested in the earth that he abandoned Eru and the other Ainur to visit far before it was authorized. Or he is unconnected to the Ainur at all, and was somehow created along with the Earth by the music of the creators. I think the first option is far more interesting. Here's why: in Tolkien's legendarium, the Maia have all kinds of mighty powers, but in order to interact with mortals upon the earth, they generally have to clothe themselves in some kind of physical form or another. Thus when the Istari (the wizards, like Gandalf and Saruman) came to Middle-Earth, they were cloaked in the forms of Men (except they didn't get old). Doing so allows Maia to access powers that would be unavailable to them in their spiritual forms. Likewise, Morgoth chose to assume the physical form of a towering giant, and eventually he became so tied to that physical form that he could not longer shed it at all -- he was stuck looking like that. Sauron poured his powers into the Ring, and after it was destroyed no longer had the ability to take physical form (hence he's a distant antagonist throughout the books).
So if Tom left his fellow Ainur to come to Arda even before Morgoth, it would make sense that he would want to take physical form in order to better experience the joys of the new earth. And it would also make sense that he would be so limited in the present time. Think about it -- he has absolute power over everything, really, including the Ring and its powers of invisibility, but is completely limited in that power to his own little kingdom from the Old Forest to the barrow-downs.
I mentioned above that I think this does add something interesting to the themes of LOTR. It adds an essentially neutral character to the mix, one to whom the powers of good and evil cannot understand, and who does not care to participate in any way in the war. I find it interesting that the-powers-that-be like Gandalf spend their energy trying to bring about continent-wide changes, but Tom doesn't care about any of that. He's just trying to be happy in his own little kingdom. As Jacob noted, Goldberry states that no one has ever "caught" Tom, because he is Master. This makes perfect sense -- Tom has never been caught up in any of the climactic good vs. evil struggles because he just doesn't care. This raises the question of whether, if Sauron won, would he have power over Tom. I tend to think not, because Tom is above and apart from that kind of dominion.
One wonders if Tolkien is offering another way here -- that the binary between actively combating evil and seeking dominion over all others is a false one. Tom lives a pastoral, separate existence. Of course, I'm not really sure what Tolkien is trying to say, if that is the case. He certainly doesn't condemn Tom for his stance; far from it, his pastoral lifestyle is idealized. But since Tom doesn't enter into the story again, I can't think he's advocating it, either. I dunno.
But that's ultimately my conclusion about this chapter -- I dunno. Why is it here? Why did Tolkien see fit to include it? Like "the Old Forest," it contains some beautiful description, and it just feels completely packed with allegory and symbolism (like Tom and Goldberry's ever-changing colors of clothes). I'm just not qualified to pick it apart, I think. In the end, I'll stand by what I said before -- this would be an excellent short-story set in Middle-Earth, but probably not the best fit for an epic fantasy quest narrative like LOTR. Still, I found it far more enjoyable this time around than I have in the past.
No comments:
Post a Comment