"The Breaking of the Fellowship" - Ben's Thoughts

The Fellowship breaks! I guess. This chapter is only Part 1 of 2, the cliffhanger to be resolved next week. Or next book. There's a lot to like about this chapter, but also a lot that irks me. It's an imperfect ending to the best book (in my humble opinion) of the trilogy.

First, as Jacob dealt with in depth, Boromir's "betrayal." Part of me thinks that his snap with reality comes out of left field, while part of me thinks that Tolkien very carefully set it up. Boromir has been very interested in Frodo for several chapters now, ever since his encounter with Galadriel's "test" in Lorien, and there have been several beats throughout these chapters that indicate that Something Is Up with our favorite Gondorian (Gondor-man?) However, the depth of Boromir's hubris just explodes forth in this chapter in a way that wasn't broadcast previously. I mean, Boromir has always been arrogant -- for example, his touting the strength of arms of Men at the Council of Elrond, and subtly disparaging the other races in the struggle through the snow at Caradhras. But this, speaking of his desire to lord it over nations and become a benevolent king -- never mind that his dad, the Steward of Gondor, is the current ruler of the land -- seems to stem directly from what Galadriel put into his head. That... bothers me, on some level, that such dangerous ideas are implied to have come from Galadriel. Frodo thinks that the evil of the Ring is already working among the company, but we have no proof that Boromir's delusions came from the Ring at all! A frustrating oversight on Tolkien's part.

I don't want to turn this into a book-movie comparison, but since this chapter is one of the few things that Peter Jackson et al really get right about the movie "Fellowship," I am going to go into some detail about my thoughts. Boromir's character is given far more opportunity in the movie than he is in the books. The scene on the mountain, where Boromir handles the Ring that has fallen off of Frodo's neck, is a masterpiece of suspense, with Aragorn's hand gripping his sword hidden behind Frodo's body. It also moves Boromir's speech about "so much fear and doubt" stemming from "such a little thing" to the mountainside, which serves to preface his fascination with the Ring in particular that develops throughout the Quest. Then, later, when Galadriel comments that "the Quest stands upon the edge of a knife," we know she is testing Boromir, who shudders in shame at what he is made to consider. Finally, in the film, Boromir does not rant about becoming a king or commander of armies -- the subtext may be implied, but he speaks to Frodo only about the Ring being the salvation of Gondor. All of this rings true far better than Boromir's sudden outbursts in the original text. Additionally, because he is set up in the second half of the film as the anti-Aragorn, the failed version of the future king, his death is all the more tragic in comparison. I'll talk more about how that death thematically belongs in this book in Chapter 1 of "Two Towers."

Aragorn does not come off well in this chapter, I think. Instead of providing advice or counsel to Frodo, he calls a public meeting, does not voice opinion, and tells Frodo that he must decide what to do. His words do not specify whether Frodo's decision is binding on the entire company, or just on Frodo himself. The far better thing to say would be that he would follow Frodo even to Mordor, if that was his choice, and then send him off to decide. Tolkien's version of Aragorn is extremely reluctant to go to Mordor, and will not voice any support of that idea. Even in private, to the other members of the Fellowship, his skepticism is clear, and he states that he would only wish to have Gimli and himself (and, he adds grudgingly, Sam) accompany Frodo if he ultimately chooses the Eastern road. This Aragorn thinks the eastward road is hopeless. This Aragorn wants to visit Minas Tirith and serve her once more before the end. This Aragorn has had no hope since the fall of Gandalf. A depressing mindset, indeed.

The attitude of the other members of the Fellowship is no better, unfortunately. Gimli and Legolas both indicate their preference of Minas Tirith. Are they just that scared to pursue the eastern road? Do they just not believe that it is possible to get unnoticed to Mount Doom without the help of an army? Pippin and Merry, as well, reveal their utter cluelessness, and Merry foolishly babbles about how they didn't understand that the quest that involved going to Mordor would actually lead them anywhere near Mordor. No wonder Boromir has such little faith in "halflings" if he's been hanging around these two nitwits.

The most powerful moment in this chapter, in my mind, is Frodo's vision on top of Amon Hen. It is clear that this is a place where a vision will unfold only in proportion to the power and ability of the person seeking, or sitting, upon the chair. Frodo is empowered by the Ring; the vision that unfolds is all-encompassing because he is embued with a portion of the power of Sauron himself. He sees nations mustering armies; he sees as far north as Mirkwood and as far south as Harad; he provides us with our first glimpse of the faded splendor of Minas Tirith; and, most horribly, he shows us for the first time the stronghold of the Enemy, revealing in some small measure exactly why Aragorn feels so hopeless about the odds of the Quest succeeding. I like the extra-physical qualities of the Eye of Sauron, as well; far from being a visible glaring eye perched on top of Barad-dur like a lighthouse, this Eye is percieved and felt rather than seen; Frodo's presence is almost recognized and barely missed by a malevolent, and wholly unseen force. Very creepy; very effective prose. Frodo's vision rolls back the "fog of war," as it were, covering the nations of Middle-earth and sets up the points of conflict of the next two books: Rohan, Orthanc, Minas Tirith, Minas Morgul, Mount Doom itself. Descriptions like that are how one ends the first book in a trilogy.

Finally, a word about the stalwart hero of the chapter: Samwise Gamgee. Of all the Company, he is the one who knows Frodo best, and thus is the one that understands his mind the most completely. He sees almost immediately that Frodo will try to go to Mordor alone, and he is the one to point out the obvious, that the rest of the Company is too deluded (or idiotic, in the case of the brainless Merry and Pippin) to see -- that Minas Tirith is a useless dead end for the Ringbearer. Aragorn recognizes this point, as he concedes that Denethor could not hope to hold back Sauron if Elrond couldn't, but he doesn't take the next logical leap that the only viable option for Middle-earth is to go east, not west.

No, it falls to Sam to raise the issue, urge the Company into action to find Frodo after they've all been sitting around like lumps dreading his return and choice, and to keep his head and return to the river to catch Frodo in the act of watercraft theft. Frodo's resistance to Sam's company on the dangerous journey is fairly nonexistent, and Sam even provides a ray of sunshine to Frodo's belief that they'll never see the other members of the Fellowship again: " 'Yet we may, Mr Frodo. We may.' " Apparently Frodo subscribes to the Aragornian brand of hopelessness, despite realizing that Minas Tirith is a fools choice, but Sam maintains his sunny disposition to the very end.

I have to approve of Tolkien's choice to put Frodo and Sam's departure at the very end of this book, while frowning at his inability to put Boromir's death here where it belongs. More on that and how Aragorn is completely shafted, character-development-wise, in the first post on "Two Towers." In the meantime, how about a movie rewatch blog post from each of us before we launch into the next book? Surely we all have access to a copy of Mr Jackson's "Fellowship"? Or what about the Ralph Bakshi, while we're at it? Anyone? Anyone?