"The Scouring of the Shire" - Ben's Thoughts

Sometimes I wonder why Peter Jackson didn't include the Scouring in his final film. It's full of drama and tension, with a wonderful climax, and all of the characters (except perhaps Pippin) are put to good use in reaching the final terrible conclusion. Perhaps it's because it's just something that could have been easily excised from what was already a lengthy movie. Or perhaps it's because Jackon's Shire is one far different from the Shire of the books -- where hobbits are real people and not just caricatures, where choices have consequences, where hobbits die and men are struck by arrows and Saruman tries to stab Frodo and makes his last, tragic mistakes. Yes, the films by comparison are trite indeed. (Another regret is how frequently we compare these books to the movies. The mediums and narrative and thematic choices are so different, are they even that comparable?)

The chapter works on multiple levels. It's at once a comedy, a dystopian cautionary tale, a Greek tragedy, and a thrilling war story. As we've mentioned before, it's one of those chapters that is just so good that it makes the entirety of LOTR that much better. I'd like to touch on just a few aspects.

As dystopia, it's fairly chilling. This is the same Shire the hobbits left before, where the only evil was exterior -- the threat of the Black Riders. There was never any worry about rot from within. But now, we have collaborators, opportunists, Bosses, power-hungry "Shirriffs"; indeed, as Frodo says about Ted Sandyman (nasty from the start, but not malicious until when our Heroes see him at his mill): "I hope there are not many more hobbits that have become like this. It would be a worse trouble than all the damage the Men have done." The "great spiked gate," the depressing guardhouses, the "whips, knives, and clubs" of the ruffians, the blockades, the curfews, the illegal imprisonment... I could continue, but all are hallmarks of a dystopia as compelling as George Orwell's (which, I might note, predates LOTR by only a few years).

Tied into all of this is Tolkien's obvious distaste for industrialization. This is the extreme example of what we've seen earlier: the evil forces of Mordor and Saruman are all about destroying the old order and installing or rebuilding a new order on the ashes of the old like a twisted palimpsest. The new is harsh and rigid and functional and cheap and dirty and dead. In the Shire, the old holes have been ripped out (literally dug out of the earth in the case of Bagshot Row and replaced with a sandpit) and replaced with functional yet tragic houses (removing the hobbits that live in them further from their mother earth). Old, functioning mills have been replaced with new ones that have no grist; instead they trundle on, day and night, producing who knows what other than pollution that flows into the water and the air (this brings to mind in Dr. Suess' The Lorax, where the by-product of the Once-ler's factory is Gloppity-Glopp and Schluppity-Schlupp, which proceeds to schlupp up the land). Shanties have been throw up, and "heaps of refuse" disgrace the lawns of Bag End.

All of this seems fairly over-the-top, especially when contrasted with the glorious utopia that "returning to the land" creates in the next chapter, but I can't fault Tolkien for his love of nature and a simpler, rural lifestyle. I also feel rejuvenated when I return to nature. But it's equally hard to reject the fact that industrialization has led to incredible advancements in technology, science, and medicine that have allowed us not only to better understand the world around us, but prolong the human life-span. Tolkien kind of cheats with hobbit society, because hobbits are naturally long-lived; Bilbo starts out the story turning 111, and is 131 by the end of the book (by comparison, Otho Sackville-Baggins is 102 when he dies, an age described as both "ripe" and "disappointed"). If we were all as naturally long-lived as hobbits (and think of what they could do if they laid off of the beer, pipe-weed, and rich food!) I'd argue a bit more forcefully for a return to nature, too.

But on to Saruman. Is there a more conceited, spiteful, and rage-inducing character in all of literature than Saruman in this chapter? He's all too successful in his attempts to wound the Shire, and unpleasantly on the nose with his critiques of our Heroes and their wanderings. Ultimately, one gets the sense that he knows he'll ultimately be unsuccessful in destroying the Shire; he just wants to hurt it as much and as soon as possible: "It would have been a sharper lesson, if only you had given me a little more time and more Men. Still I have already done much that you will find it hard to mend or undo in your lives."

What I want to focus on, though, is Frodo's mercy to counterpoint Saruman's spite. Even after his ruthless, underhanded assassination attempt, Frodo spares his life. "He is fallen, and his cure is beyond us; but I would still spare him, in the hope that he may find it." Saruman, however, completely misunderstands Frodo's mercy: "You have grown, Halfling. . . . Yes, you have grown very much. You are wise, and cruel. You have robbed my revenge of sweetness". Saruman is incapable of understanding Frodo's gesture, and his hope. He sees only malice and cruelty in Frodo's response. Perhaps that is the most tragic aspect of all about Saruman's state, there at the end. It tends to belie Frodo's hope and indicate that there really is no turning back for Saruman, once so great and so wise. I think Saruman's fall is more impactful than Sauron's, because of these glimpses that we get of him.

But that's not all! Sam flirting! Pippin threatening a thug with his "troll's bane" sword! Crotchety old hobbits making wisecracks! Poking fun at ridiculous authority figures! Chases, escapes, hobbits using military techniques to outmaneuver ruffians! Wormtongue's final tragic revenge! The chapter has it all. It's a masterwork, and one that lives on in one's memory well after the words are read. I've said it before, but this chapter is an example of why Tolkien's work lives through the ages.