Chapter 5: A Conspiracy Unmasked
Jacob's Thoughts (3/1/14)
And now we arrive at Mos Eisly space port--I mean, Platform 9 3/4--I mean, the village of Buckland. In terms of that Campbellian hero cycle, Buckland is (like its Star Wars and Harry Potter analogues) the threshold between the known world and the unknown, between the safety of the familiar against the hazards of the not. There is no longer this gradual increase of danger as before, but an abrupt demarcation line, both literally and figuratively--Hobbits who don't know better claim that they would rather risk a run-in with the ever-nearing Dark Riders than venture into the Old Forest, and Buckland sits right at its frontier. This is a place for both rest and preparation, with the implication that only those who are mentally prepared for greater dangers should proceed ahead.
As far as Campbellian threshold guardians go, I kinda like this one: Buckland hints at the hidden tenacity of Hobbits (which is what perhaps Gandalf always saw in them--and what Frodo et al. will need to call upon later), what with it being a final bastion of Hobbit domesticity butting right up against the ever-threatening darkness of the Old Forest; as Tolkien understatedly notes, this is the place where Hobbits begin to lock their doors at night.
Yet despite the danger, it is here in Buckland that Hobbits have still stubbornly set up a home, refusing to let the menace of the Old Forrest disturb their peace and tranquility. Hobbits may be quotidian, but they are aggressively so--they do indeed possess the strength of character to preserve their world (and maybe the rest of the world, too).
However, what I find strangest about this chapter is not the implied threats to come, but Tolkien's choice to focus on the character development...of Merry, of all people! Even while our ostensible protagonist Frodo remains rather nebulously defined, it is the minor character Merry who here takes center stage--and talk about contrasts between the film and the book! In the Peter Jackson, Merry is but one part of some sort of Laurel & Hardy routine with Pippin, as indistinguishable as Rosencrantz & Guildenstern, there for occasional heroics but mostly just laughs; but here in the chapter, Merry is a veritable Sherlock Holmes, a brilliant investigator reclining back in his easy-chair to explain his expert deductions, keen observations, and clever conspiracies, in how he uncovered the mystery of the Ring and Frodo's journey.
Serious, it's like Tolkien stole a scene from Arthur Conan Doyle and re-enacted it here. Suddenly Merry feels more like a genuine asset than a mere comic relief. I'll be interested to see if that characterization holds consistent throughout the rest of the series.
But then, though the focus here is mostly on Merry, this chapter does provide a brief glimpse into the psyche of our man Frodo, and that in the most literal way possible--the final paragraph gives us his dream that night. He hears oceans that he's never seen in waking life; he moves from the claustrophobia of the neighboring Old Forest to the agoraphobia of this tree-less dreamscape (though in my experience in the Midwest, claustrophobia and agoraphobia are not quite so separate as one might assume--the flat, empty views cause the horizons to close in on you, not expand them); he sees a white tower that he feels an overwhelming desire to climb, to see the sea at last (just as how Ben said he understands Frodo's yearning for the mountains, I, as an ocean-child myself, understand this desire for the sea); and it is not immediately clear whether this edifice represents the temptations of the Ring, teasing him towards the tower of Mordor and his unwitting destruction, or if it perhaps represents a place of safety and exaltation where Frodo can potentially see the West Havens beyond his approaching sea of trials.
Eric's Thoughts (3/2/14)
Well, unfortunately it looks like Tolkien won’t be hearing high praises from me in every chapter. In great contrast to the high praises I gave to the last chapter, this chapter struck me as weak for a couple of reasons.
Now, I wasn’t particularly bored or thought the prose itself was bad, but these macro concerns kept repeating in my head, making the read less enjoyable. Why is Frodo taking a bath? How can he be so relaxed when he knows he’s being pursued? Why would he be staying in such an obvious place? Yet Frodo decides to leave the next morning?
Ben's Thoughts (3/3/14)
It's been interesting to read about everyone's differing perspectives on these introductory chapters. Eric found real value in "A Short Cut to Mushrooms," and Jacob tackled the wild encroaching on Hobbits' doorsteps in "Conspiracy." I have to admit that it was hard for me to do anything but skim this particular chapter, however. When I think of Tolkien and his long-lasting impact on fantasy fiction, I don't think of chapters such as this. I think of the harrowing journey from Bree to Rivendell (shocking that such suspense is packed into three short chapters!), or the Mines of Moria, or the battle of the Pellenor fields. This, to me, is chaff that must be sifted through to get to the real inspiring gems.
The chapter begins firmly in Sam's head, with his introspective thoughts regarding leaving home behind forever, as far as he knows. Perhaps this would have had more impact upon me as a first-time reader, but knowing the depths that the hobbits will get themselves into, crossing the Brandywine doesn't really pack that much of a punch. It was certainly nice that Sam got a moment, however. He is also the one to notice the Black Rider snuffling around on the far bank when the ferry reaches the east side of the river. His introspection and observant behavior really shines through. We've been in Sam's head more than any other character's to this point (barring Frodo). I do find Tolkien's shifts of point-of-view a bit jarring, but that's likely because I'm used to dedicated point-of-view chapters a la "The Wheel of Time" or "A Song of Ice and Fire." I'm going to have to keep a sharper eye out for narrative voice in the future. I know to this point it has been dominated by Frodo, with occasional shifts to Sam.
On the Rider: once again the difference between the movie-Riders and Tolkien's riders is striking. What are these Riders going to do when they catch Frodo? The image of the Rider as a rag or bundle snuffling around on the ferry landing plays with the corporeality of the Riders themselves -- is Sam seeing the wraith without its cloaked outer form? The sense of the unknown associated with the Riders is growing, also aided by their shrieking cries from "Short Cut." It's too bad that the tension is going to go down the tubes later in this chapter and into the following chapters, as Eric rightly points out. Going from the spooky, foggy ferry to a nice hot bath is a substanital misstep, in my opinion.
Thus on to the conspiracy. I'm not a fan. First and foremost in my mind, it makes Frodo look like an idiot. I'm all for the characterization given to Merry. As pointed out by Jacob, he's immediately a solid character, and assumes a secondary -- or even primary, at this point -- leadership role in the group. I will likewise be interested to see if these qualities fade into the background as the books progress and whether he will be rendered indistinguishable from Pippin. But my beef with this characterization is that it comes at Frodo's expense! Frodo is completely unaware that his closest friends have been essentially spying on him, or that they recruited his hired hand (Sam, before Gandalf caught him eavesdropping) to do further spying for them. The conspiracy knows everything from the Ring itself to Frodo's eventual destination. Tolkien even goes so far as to pre-empt Frodo's reveal that he is leaving the Shire. Merry doesn't even let the words get out of his mouth, which completely deflates the would-be hero of the story.
Why did Tolkien think this character assassination was really necessary? I remain baffled. The fact that Frodo wasn't willing to take any of his cousins with him into "exile" certainly speaks to his nobility and self-sacrificial nature. But he is sooooo melodramatic about the whole thing! And in the end, caves far too easily. If he was really committed to leaving alone, he would have put more pressure on Merry and Pippin to stay, and would have been understandably outraged at their continual snooping for a period of over twenty years (since before Bilbo left town)! As it is, Frodo hardly tries to dissuade them from coming at all.
Another unfortunate product of this conspiracy is the character of Fatty Bolger. If Pippin seems like a cipher to this point (despite have spent the better part of three chapters with him), Fatty is completely opaque. Far from being an "archetype," as Eric terms the hobbits, Fatty is just a stick figure. His characteristics consist of being fat and cowardly. If Tolkien felt that he needed Fatty's unwillingness to come along in order to juxtapose Merry and Pippin's loyalty, he needn't have bothered. All Fatty serves to do is annoy me. We will check back in with the house at Crickhollow in a few chapters, to see how Fatty fares versus the Black Riders -- which I will tackle when we get there, but I remember as an unnecessary aside that could have been dealt with through alternative means.
A few final thoughts. It was nice of Merry to allow Sam to bathe with Frodo and Pippin. Judging by the way Pippin's treated him to this point, I was afraid they were going to make him wait until after the "gentlehobbits" had their turn. And Frodo's dream takes things in an interesting direction. I can't help but wonder if this is the wrong place in narrative for the dream. If I recall, it pops back up in the Tom Bombadil chapters but then, thematically, does not return until after the Ring is destroyed (and thus is long forgotten by a reader until they re-read Book 1). But it is intriguing nonetheless. Does Frodo's connection to the Sea, and thus to Valinor, tie in with Gandalf's references to a "higher power" that is guiding the hobbits in their quest? It certainly foreshadows Frodo's eventual destiny to cross the Sea as a shattered trauma survivor. In a way, the vision is altogether too hopeful to square with the bittersweet ending of the series. I will continue to look for similar elements linked with Frodo as the re-read continues.
And now we arrive at Mos Eisly space port--I mean, Platform 9 3/4--I mean, the village of Buckland. In terms of that Campbellian hero cycle, Buckland is (like its Star Wars and Harry Potter analogues) the threshold between the known world and the unknown, between the safety of the familiar against the hazards of the not. There is no longer this gradual increase of danger as before, but an abrupt demarcation line, both literally and figuratively--Hobbits who don't know better claim that they would rather risk a run-in with the ever-nearing Dark Riders than venture into the Old Forest, and Buckland sits right at its frontier. This is a place for both rest and preparation, with the implication that only those who are mentally prepared for greater dangers should proceed ahead.
As far as Campbellian threshold guardians go, I kinda like this one: Buckland hints at the hidden tenacity of Hobbits (which is what perhaps Gandalf always saw in them--and what Frodo et al. will need to call upon later), what with it being a final bastion of Hobbit domesticity butting right up against the ever-threatening darkness of the Old Forest; as Tolkien understatedly notes, this is the place where Hobbits begin to lock their doors at night.
Yet despite the danger, it is here in Buckland that Hobbits have still stubbornly set up a home, refusing to let the menace of the Old Forrest disturb their peace and tranquility. Hobbits may be quotidian, but they are aggressively so--they do indeed possess the strength of character to preserve their world (and maybe the rest of the world, too).
However, what I find strangest about this chapter is not the implied threats to come, but Tolkien's choice to focus on the character development...of Merry, of all people! Even while our ostensible protagonist Frodo remains rather nebulously defined, it is the minor character Merry who here takes center stage--and talk about contrasts between the film and the book! In the Peter Jackson, Merry is but one part of some sort of Laurel & Hardy routine with Pippin, as indistinguishable as Rosencrantz & Guildenstern, there for occasional heroics but mostly just laughs; but here in the chapter, Merry is a veritable Sherlock Holmes, a brilliant investigator reclining back in his easy-chair to explain his expert deductions, keen observations, and clever conspiracies, in how he uncovered the mystery of the Ring and Frodo's journey.
Serious, it's like Tolkien stole a scene from Arthur Conan Doyle and re-enacted it here. Suddenly Merry feels more like a genuine asset than a mere comic relief. I'll be interested to see if that characterization holds consistent throughout the rest of the series.
But then, though the focus here is mostly on Merry, this chapter does provide a brief glimpse into the psyche of our man Frodo, and that in the most literal way possible--the final paragraph gives us his dream that night. He hears oceans that he's never seen in waking life; he moves from the claustrophobia of the neighboring Old Forest to the agoraphobia of this tree-less dreamscape (though in my experience in the Midwest, claustrophobia and agoraphobia are not quite so separate as one might assume--the flat, empty views cause the horizons to close in on you, not expand them); he sees a white tower that he feels an overwhelming desire to climb, to see the sea at last (just as how Ben said he understands Frodo's yearning for the mountains, I, as an ocean-child myself, understand this desire for the sea); and it is not immediately clear whether this edifice represents the temptations of the Ring, teasing him towards the tower of Mordor and his unwitting destruction, or if it perhaps represents a place of safety and exaltation where Frodo can potentially see the West Havens beyond his approaching sea of trials.
Eric's Thoughts (3/2/14)
Well, unfortunately it looks like Tolkien won’t be hearing high praises from me in every chapter. In great contrast to the high praises I gave to the last chapter, this chapter struck me as weak for a couple of reasons.
First, smack in the middle of when the hobbits are crossing the Brandywine, Tolkien interjects a random history of the Brandybucks and Brandyland. What the heck?? This prose would have been much better suited for an appendix, or how about just cutting it entirely? Totally random, and totally unnecessary.
Then, the hobbits arrive at the very house Frodo purchased. I repeat—Frodo goes into the house where every Hobbit knew Frodo was supposed to go. And not only does he go inside, but he takes a bath, eats supper, and listens as Merry unfolds a conspiracy to help him leave the Shire.
All of this happens under the circumstances that a mysterious black rider had been seen on the other side of the river, watching him. Merry informs Frodo that its possible the horse might try to swim the river, and that it’s a mere 10 miles around to where the black rider might cross, if the black rider is disinclined to wade into the water.
Frodo also recognizes the possibility that there might even be more than two black riders, which means there might have been a black rider watching his house.
The hobbits don’t strike me as particularly dumb, so we can rule out that possibility. In fact, Merry in discovering the ring by deduction and Sherlock-Holmes sleuthing shows that they are inquisitive, nosy, and smart. Even Sam reveals that he was just putting on airs to spy on Frodo.
So how do we reconcile this with the fact that the hobbits are having a second dinner and bathing while being pursued by agents from Mordor? We know Frodo isn’t entirely ignorant of the danger—Gildor warned him.
Now, I wasn’t particularly bored or thought the prose itself was bad, but these macro concerns kept repeating in my head, making the read less enjoyable. Why is Frodo taking a bath? How can he be so relaxed when he knows he’s being pursued? Why would he be staying in such an obvious place? Yet Frodo decides to leave the next morning?
To me the whole chapter seemed to be a gaping plot hole, and one that wasn’t hard to fix. All you had to have Merry say is that he once saw a horse and rider drown in river that tried to cross—because the river has nasty undercurrents. That rules out that possibility. And second, you make it even longer to the crossing point—20 miles. Okay, 40 miles of buffer. Now spending the night makes sense.
But what if there’s a third rider? How about you have Frodo stay at Merry’s for the night? Since there wasn’t much description, that wouldn’t even require much from an editing standpoint. Okay, now that you’ve ruled out all three possibilities, then you can have the bath scene, and have them discuss the conspiracy.
Easy fixes. And Tolkien’s editor should have pointed them out. Oh well.
Ben's Thoughts (3/3/14)
It's been interesting to read about everyone's differing perspectives on these introductory chapters. Eric found real value in "A Short Cut to Mushrooms," and Jacob tackled the wild encroaching on Hobbits' doorsteps in "Conspiracy." I have to admit that it was hard for me to do anything but skim this particular chapter, however. When I think of Tolkien and his long-lasting impact on fantasy fiction, I don't think of chapters such as this. I think of the harrowing journey from Bree to Rivendell (shocking that such suspense is packed into three short chapters!), or the Mines of Moria, or the battle of the Pellenor fields. This, to me, is chaff that must be sifted through to get to the real inspiring gems.
The chapter begins firmly in Sam's head, with his introspective thoughts regarding leaving home behind forever, as far as he knows. Perhaps this would have had more impact upon me as a first-time reader, but knowing the depths that the hobbits will get themselves into, crossing the Brandywine doesn't really pack that much of a punch. It was certainly nice that Sam got a moment, however. He is also the one to notice the Black Rider snuffling around on the far bank when the ferry reaches the east side of the river. His introspection and observant behavior really shines through. We've been in Sam's head more than any other character's to this point (barring Frodo). I do find Tolkien's shifts of point-of-view a bit jarring, but that's likely because I'm used to dedicated point-of-view chapters a la "The Wheel of Time" or "A Song of Ice and Fire." I'm going to have to keep a sharper eye out for narrative voice in the future. I know to this point it has been dominated by Frodo, with occasional shifts to Sam.
On the Rider: once again the difference between the movie-Riders and Tolkien's riders is striking. What are these Riders going to do when they catch Frodo? The image of the Rider as a rag or bundle snuffling around on the ferry landing plays with the corporeality of the Riders themselves -- is Sam seeing the wraith without its cloaked outer form? The sense of the unknown associated with the Riders is growing, also aided by their shrieking cries from "Short Cut." It's too bad that the tension is going to go down the tubes later in this chapter and into the following chapters, as Eric rightly points out. Going from the spooky, foggy ferry to a nice hot bath is a substanital misstep, in my opinion.
Thus on to the conspiracy. I'm not a fan. First and foremost in my mind, it makes Frodo look like an idiot. I'm all for the characterization given to Merry. As pointed out by Jacob, he's immediately a solid character, and assumes a secondary -- or even primary, at this point -- leadership role in the group. I will likewise be interested to see if these qualities fade into the background as the books progress and whether he will be rendered indistinguishable from Pippin. But my beef with this characterization is that it comes at Frodo's expense! Frodo is completely unaware that his closest friends have been essentially spying on him, or that they recruited his hired hand (Sam, before Gandalf caught him eavesdropping) to do further spying for them. The conspiracy knows everything from the Ring itself to Frodo's eventual destination. Tolkien even goes so far as to pre-empt Frodo's reveal that he is leaving the Shire. Merry doesn't even let the words get out of his mouth, which completely deflates the would-be hero of the story.
Why did Tolkien think this character assassination was really necessary? I remain baffled. The fact that Frodo wasn't willing to take any of his cousins with him into "exile" certainly speaks to his nobility and self-sacrificial nature. But he is sooooo melodramatic about the whole thing! And in the end, caves far too easily. If he was really committed to leaving alone, he would have put more pressure on Merry and Pippin to stay, and would have been understandably outraged at their continual snooping for a period of over twenty years (since before Bilbo left town)! As it is, Frodo hardly tries to dissuade them from coming at all.
Another unfortunate product of this conspiracy is the character of Fatty Bolger. If Pippin seems like a cipher to this point (despite have spent the better part of three chapters with him), Fatty is completely opaque. Far from being an "archetype," as Eric terms the hobbits, Fatty is just a stick figure. His characteristics consist of being fat and cowardly. If Tolkien felt that he needed Fatty's unwillingness to come along in order to juxtapose Merry and Pippin's loyalty, he needn't have bothered. All Fatty serves to do is annoy me. We will check back in with the house at Crickhollow in a few chapters, to see how Fatty fares versus the Black Riders -- which I will tackle when we get there, but I remember as an unnecessary aside that could have been dealt with through alternative means.
A few final thoughts. It was nice of Merry to allow Sam to bathe with Frodo and Pippin. Judging by the way Pippin's treated him to this point, I was afraid they were going to make him wait until after the "gentlehobbits" had their turn. And Frodo's dream takes things in an interesting direction. I can't help but wonder if this is the wrong place in narrative for the dream. If I recall, it pops back up in the Tom Bombadil chapters but then, thematically, does not return until after the Ring is destroyed (and thus is long forgotten by a reader until they re-read Book 1). But it is intriguing nonetheless. Does Frodo's connection to the Sea, and thus to Valinor, tie in with Gandalf's references to a "higher power" that is guiding the hobbits in their quest? It certainly foreshadows Frodo's eventual destiny to cross the Sea as a shattered trauma survivor. In a way, the vision is altogether too hopeful to square with the bittersweet ending of the series. I will continue to look for similar elements linked with Frodo as the re-read continues.
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