Chapter 7: The Mirror of Galadriel
Jacob's Thoughts (8/31/14)
I feel as though Celeborn could've been speaking on behalf of Eric when he lamented, "one would say that at last Gandalf fell from wisdom into folly, going needlessly into the net of Moria."
But then I also feel that Tolkien responds directly to Eric (and other such critical readers) through the Lady Galadriel's rejoinder: "He would be rash indeed that said such a thing...Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. Those that followed him knew not his mind and cannot report his full purpose."
This statement is effective at inaugurating the aura of mystery that permeates both this realm of Lothlórien and the chapter itself. For only the second time this novel, Frodo has another cryptic vision of the Ocean that he's never seen before (I had in fact forgotten about his first one in "A Conspiracy Unmasked," even though I'd written about it--and I hadn't realized that this would be a repeating dream; I'm please Tolkien hasn't forgotten the Sea); we also get our first hint that Gandalf is not as irrevocably lost as we assumed for the last 2 chapter, though Tolkien wisely keeps it ambiguous as to whether Frodo sees Gandalf or the more nefarious Saruman; and as though to further worry us about the dark forebodings about these visions, we get what I believe is our very first ever glimpse of the eye of Sauron.
Among the more controversial moves of the Peter Jackson films is his introduction of the physical presence of Sauron right from the get go, keeping him constantly foregrounded throughout the rest of the series. Far more effective, I think, is Tolkien's choice to not provide any sort of image of the chief antagonist until we are well over three-quarters our way through the first novel. Our imaginations can thereby run wild, creating something far more terrifying than any words could describe. Since Sauron is so much a creature of our worst nightmares, it makes sense that his first genuine appearance should arrive in such a dream-like setting, and pop up in such an unexpectedly dream-like manner.
And then what an introduction! A single eye emerging from the darkness, rimmed with fire, a feline yellow like some inhuman predator, like something straight out of the darkest recesses of our subconscious, looking, hunting, for you specifically! The water itself bubbles and smokes, and the ring becomes heavy, reminding us again of its own wicked agency, and almost reaches out for its Dark Master right there and then! We're not entirely sure that Frodo and Sam aren't all just dreaming this sequence (they had just barely lied down to sleep when Galadriel bid them follow), but that doesn't distract from its terror--in fact, it only augments it. This is the sort of scene that is normally written on a bad drug trip, or after a fitful night's sleep.
Then comes the "test" of Galadriel, which I was surprised that, with the exception of the co-presence of Sam, goes down exactly as the film presents it. But then, it shouldn't have been a surprise, for it's a very cinematic scene, deeply impactful and almost more frightening than the appearance of the eye of Sauron. What I'm a little more baffled by, then, is what, exactly, are the parameters of this "test." I mean, I understand that the Ring corrupts whoever owns it, even those with the best of intentions, so I'm glad that she resisted the awful temptation (and her line "All shall love me and despair!" is almost more frightening, in a BDSM sorta way, than Sauron, who merely demands your submission, not your adoration too!). But why, exactly, must the elves "diminish" with the destruction of the Ring? Why is this a Catch-22 for the elves between domination and exile? What ancient Faustian deal did they make that resulted in their fates on Middle-Earth being tied to the Ring's existence? I confess that I'm confused as to this particular plot point. Can either of you explain it to me?
Likewise intriguing is Galadriel's statement that the elves will not submit to Sauron "for they know him now," implying that they didn't before, and didn't for awhile. Now that Sauron has made his first real appearance, I admit that I'm all the more intrigued with him now: was he some sort of "devil appearing as an angel of light" in some earlier era? Before he became Nightmarish Oppression personified, was he a smooth-talker? A sales-man? Charming? Handsome? Likeable? A disimulator who conquered through seduction and a silver-tongue? Why didn't the wise old elves know him for what he was at first? Was he just that smooth before he finally cast off his disguise and revealed himself for the devil he really is? Suddenly Sauron isn't just a "Generic Boss Character" to defeat anymore, but a real being with a real past and a real personality. It's almost with sadness that I realize this series probably won't answer any more of my questions about him.
Ben's Thoughts (9/28/14)
I don't know if I've ever really known what to make of these Lothlórien chapters. In some ways, they're foundational for what comes after, with respect to the dynamic of the members of the Fellowship and the choices Aragorn has to make (and is conveniently excused from making) later in LOTR. But in other ways, they're extremely confusing. Galadriel is just such an enigmatic character, so distant and remote compared to our narrators the Hobbits, that her appearances feel almost disturbing.
Within Tolkien's mythos, Galadriel is probably the oldest Elf in Middle-earth (except for Círdan). She was born in Valinor and came to Middle-earth before the First Age of the Sun, with Feänor and the hosts of the Noldor. She is the daughter of Finarfin, who was the brother of Feänor and later the High King of the Elves. Although she was overshadowed by the shenanigans of the sons of Feänor in The Silmarillion, she was a major figure in the wars of the Second and Third Ages. In these chapters, she completely overshadows her soft-spoken husband Celeborn, who is typically described as a "kinsman of Thingol of Doriath" (which makes him a Sindarin Elf, and thus not really the equal of Galadriel's Noldorin heritage and power). Interestingly, Galadriel says that she passed over the mountains, likely meaning the Blue Mountains of Beleriand, before the fall of Nargothrond or Gondolin. Checking my sources, it seems that Tolkien has Galadriel and Celeborn espousing the belief that the War of the Jewels, fought against Sauron's former master Morgoth, was hopeless and thus they did not participate in the War of Wrath in which the Valar finally destroyed Morgoth's power in the North (and the entirety of Beleriand in the process). I think that says something about Galadriel's pragmatism. She is not one for clinging to false hope.
But the big question in my mind is why does Tolkien have the Company pass through Lórien before sending them down the Great River and to the confrontation between Frodo and Boromir that by this point is obviously coming up quickly? Did he just want to show off another Elvish kingdom? One of the most important moments in this chapter is when Galadriel mentally tests each member of the Company, and here more seeds are planted in Boromir's mind that will eventually lead to the breaking of the Fellowship. Does Galadriel's test push Boromir over the edge? It's interesting to speculate about whether Boromir would still be driven to do what he does even without Galadriel prompting him a little bit, with ideas about the salvation of Gondor. Galadriel's not all roses and moonbeams; I can easily interpret Aragorn's rebuttal of Boromir's distrust (that no evil is in Lórien except that which a person brings with them) to mean that Galadriel's magic magnifies and eventually exposes the evil within a person. Perhaps that is what happened here. I'm sure I'll talk more about Boromir and his motivations in the final chapter of "Fellowship." In any event, the test is very disturbing to most members of the Company.
On the other hand, Galadriel is a wonderful voice for understanding between the Elves and Gimli. When Celeborn expresses his wish that Gimli should have been refused entrance into Lórien had he known about the evil that the Dwarves had awoken in the mountains, Galadriel gently reproves him and reminds him about the beauty possessed and admired by the Dwarves. I dislike the word "tolerance," so I don't think that's what Galadriel is communicating here, but she is certainly able to place herself in the shoes of the Dwarves and understands what makes them tick. I also love the line about Gimli's dawning comprehension of the better path that Galadriel is offering, which is certainly the catalyst for Gimli and Legolas' future friendship: "…it seemed to him that he looked suddenly into the heart of an enemy and saw there love and understanding. Wonder came into his face, and then he smiled in answer." Gimli is surprised by the offer of reconciliation but then immediately accepts it.
The magic of the Elves and specifically Galadriel's power over the land and people of Lórien, is what permeates this chapter. Sam's comment about how "there's Elves and Elves" is quite on the nose -- Galadriel is quite a different sort of Elf from, say, Haldir or even Legolas, who have never known anything but Middle-earth and have no sense of connection to Valinor beyond a vague longing for the Sea (which rises in Legolas as the books progress). I'll talk more about Galadriel's connection to Valinor in the next chapter, where it really comes to the forefront, but she is set apart from the rank-and-file Elf of Lórien very distinctly. Frodo can feel the power pulsing through Lórien, generated by Galadriel and her Ring of Power; Sam not so much.
Finally, the titular "Mirror" of the chapter. What is this strange magical object, that presents visions of past, present, and future, scenes desired by those that look into the Mirror but also scenes unbidden and unrequested by either Galadriel or the person looking? As with so many things with Tolkien's magic, the Mirror resembles ancient magic tropes like scrying, but is so completely unexplained as to be wholly opaque.
I find it fascinating that Galadriel was looking forward to and anticipating the "test" placed before her by Frodo. She makes it sound like she was eagerly hoping it would be given to her. Why? Likely, deep down, Galadriel finds the promise of absolute power alluring. Who among us would not? Who among us doesn't smile a little bit at the thought of being absolutely loved and absolutely feared by everyone? But I think Galadriel wants to be presented with this test because she wants to prove to herself that she can pass it. That she is content -- or if not content, than accepting of the fact -- that she will "diminish, pass into the West, and remain Galadriel."
Part of Galadriel's acceptance goes back to that pragmatism that I mentioned earlier. The Elves -- or at least the Wise (like true elitists, they seem to keep a lot back from regular shmoes like Haldir) -- are very aware that the ages of Elvish dominance are over. In Tolkien's legendarium, the "Music" of Illúvitar (the god-figure) gives a season to everything and everything in its season. The Elves had their time, and it is passing, and the Age of Men is nearing. With that comes the lessening of Galadriel's power; even at this point, it does not extend past the borders of Lórien itself (similar to Tolkien's concept that these powerful beings are about to designate the boundaries of their power, but are all but powerless outside those borders, a la Tom Bombadil outside the Old Forest or Sauron both magnifying and confining his power with the Ring).
And second, Tolkien has made (most of) his Elves inherently good. Galadriel, as exhibited by the compassion she shows to Gimli in this chapter, believes in acting for the greater good. She knows that the destruction of Sauron will free Men from his oppression. It's interesting that in this chapter, Frodo and Galadriel both wish for things that would result in great harm: Frodo that Galadriel would take the Ring, and Galadriel that the Ring had never been found (which would have resulted in Sauron's unchecked expansion). But ultimately they both understand what they must do to benefit the greater good. In Galadriel's case, she knows that the destruction of the Ring will hasten the waning of the Elves' power; they placed so much of their power (or so we are told; I've never really understood the how or why of this) into the creation of the Three Rings, and with the destruction of the One Ring, the Master Ring, comes the destruction of the power of all the other rings as well. But despite that fact, she chooses to support the Quest instead of clinging to her slowly fading power in Middle-earth.
Isn't this a lesson that so many of us could benefit from? I'm certainly guilty of clinging to the past from time to time at the expense of the present.
Eric's Thoughts (10/12/14)
This is a chapter about temptation. In this chapter, the Lady Galadriel is offered a choice between preservation and destruction. The only price? That she claims a magical artifact that she knows will corrupt her and turn her into the very evil she is fighting. Galadriel knows that if she accepts this boon, she will fall.
I wonder if anyone considers considers themselves evil. I wonder if even Sauron does. Certainly people can admit they've done evil things. But I wonder if, in the real world, there's a single stereotypical James Bond villain who rubs his hands maniacally and cackles when the hero is cast into a tank of sharks. I suspect the truth is more complicated. In the real world, the Saurons think they're okay guys, not James Bond villains.
Lacking a concrete villain, it's difficult to know what Sauron has become, and why. (Perhaps you can fill the gaps with backstory, Ben. I don't remember how/why Sauron became evil, because if I remember he was a good guy too once.) What exactly does the Ring do to someone? For Sauron, it was an extension of himself -- he poured his own power into the Ring when forging it. That means that he had to become evil before making evil, right? Couldn't the good guys, then, have been able to craft another Ring of Power to defend against the One Ring? One that wasn't evil?
The real question is why is corruption inevitable from this Ring. The classic explanations of the Ring theme is that absolute power corrupts absolutely, and that power is a form of drug addiction. The ring is described as a tool for the domination of others. This means that thematically we are dealing with a James Bond villain -- one that merely wants to conquer the world for the sake of conquering it. Maybe Sauron was just insecure and wanted to prove something to himself -- and everyone else?? Maybe he was a psychopath???
Again, all of this is just speculation because at this point we don't really know what Sauron is, other than an Eye. Sauron himself is merely an idea, while the fruits of the idea are manifested in grotesque orcs and goblins, his servants.
Galadriel -- at this point we only know she is pretty, and counsels Celeborn to take back fast spoken words of critique against the Dwarf. She admits that she considered taking the Ring by force from Frodo.
Sauron, then, as long as the ring lasts, exists as the ultimate extension of evil -- one that turns friends against each other. Yet when the Ring is destroyed at the end of the book, assuredly evil is not destroyed. Saruman and his orcs are still chopping up the Shire, and assuredly more evil will follow in the years to come in Middle Earth. The Ring is not the root of all evil, clearly.
So then what is this Ring?
Unfortunately the answer evades me. Except to say that perhaps it is merely a storytelling device, a McGuffin, that allows the characters to have a quest. Perhaps all of the prior analyses of what the Ring is are wrong, and it is what it is -- a Ring created by an evil spirit that wreaks mischief does as the spirit does. I know it's not as poetic, but perhaps the Ring doesn't bring out the worst in us? Perhaps the Ring isn't a metaphor for power at all, but is -- dum dum dum -- just a Ring?
What's interesting is that Galadriel says that in order for Frodo to read her mind is that he will have to grow in power, and train himself in the domination of others. That means that Frodo has a choice, in a sense, to avoid the Ring's power. But then why does he fall under it's spell in the end? Does that mean that no one can escape from the Ring? If cute little Frodo can't, surely very few (if any) of us can.
And for Galadriel, she passes the test of the Ring, and decides to leave it all behind, hopefully for better things in the life to come. And yet in her choice she does not sound certain that it is the right choice, and that is not a comforting thought.
This is not a happy chapter.
I feel as though Celeborn could've been speaking on behalf of Eric when he lamented, "one would say that at last Gandalf fell from wisdom into folly, going needlessly into the net of Moria."
But then I also feel that Tolkien responds directly to Eric (and other such critical readers) through the Lady Galadriel's rejoinder: "He would be rash indeed that said such a thing...Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. Those that followed him knew not his mind and cannot report his full purpose."
This statement is effective at inaugurating the aura of mystery that permeates both this realm of Lothlórien and the chapter itself. For only the second time this novel, Frodo has another cryptic vision of the Ocean that he's never seen before (I had in fact forgotten about his first one in "A Conspiracy Unmasked," even though I'd written about it--and I hadn't realized that this would be a repeating dream; I'm please Tolkien hasn't forgotten the Sea); we also get our first hint that Gandalf is not as irrevocably lost as we assumed for the last 2 chapter, though Tolkien wisely keeps it ambiguous as to whether Frodo sees Gandalf or the more nefarious Saruman; and as though to further worry us about the dark forebodings about these visions, we get what I believe is our very first ever glimpse of the eye of Sauron.
Among the more controversial moves of the Peter Jackson films is his introduction of the physical presence of Sauron right from the get go, keeping him constantly foregrounded throughout the rest of the series. Far more effective, I think, is Tolkien's choice to not provide any sort of image of the chief antagonist until we are well over three-quarters our way through the first novel. Our imaginations can thereby run wild, creating something far more terrifying than any words could describe. Since Sauron is so much a creature of our worst nightmares, it makes sense that his first genuine appearance should arrive in such a dream-like setting, and pop up in such an unexpectedly dream-like manner.
And then what an introduction! A single eye emerging from the darkness, rimmed with fire, a feline yellow like some inhuman predator, like something straight out of the darkest recesses of our subconscious, looking, hunting, for you specifically! The water itself bubbles and smokes, and the ring becomes heavy, reminding us again of its own wicked agency, and almost reaches out for its Dark Master right there and then! We're not entirely sure that Frodo and Sam aren't all just dreaming this sequence (they had just barely lied down to sleep when Galadriel bid them follow), but that doesn't distract from its terror--in fact, it only augments it. This is the sort of scene that is normally written on a bad drug trip, or after a fitful night's sleep.
Then comes the "test" of Galadriel, which I was surprised that, with the exception of the co-presence of Sam, goes down exactly as the film presents it. But then, it shouldn't have been a surprise, for it's a very cinematic scene, deeply impactful and almost more frightening than the appearance of the eye of Sauron. What I'm a little more baffled by, then, is what, exactly, are the parameters of this "test." I mean, I understand that the Ring corrupts whoever owns it, even those with the best of intentions, so I'm glad that she resisted the awful temptation (and her line "All shall love me and despair!" is almost more frightening, in a BDSM sorta way, than Sauron, who merely demands your submission, not your adoration too!). But why, exactly, must the elves "diminish" with the destruction of the Ring? Why is this a Catch-22 for the elves between domination and exile? What ancient Faustian deal did they make that resulted in their fates on Middle-Earth being tied to the Ring's existence? I confess that I'm confused as to this particular plot point. Can either of you explain it to me?
Likewise intriguing is Galadriel's statement that the elves will not submit to Sauron "for they know him now," implying that they didn't before, and didn't for awhile. Now that Sauron has made his first real appearance, I admit that I'm all the more intrigued with him now: was he some sort of "devil appearing as an angel of light" in some earlier era? Before he became Nightmarish Oppression personified, was he a smooth-talker? A sales-man? Charming? Handsome? Likeable? A disimulator who conquered through seduction and a silver-tongue? Why didn't the wise old elves know him for what he was at first? Was he just that smooth before he finally cast off his disguise and revealed himself for the devil he really is? Suddenly Sauron isn't just a "Generic Boss Character" to defeat anymore, but a real being with a real past and a real personality. It's almost with sadness that I realize this series probably won't answer any more of my questions about him.
Ben's Thoughts (9/28/14)
I don't know if I've ever really known what to make of these Lothlórien chapters. In some ways, they're foundational for what comes after, with respect to the dynamic of the members of the Fellowship and the choices Aragorn has to make (and is conveniently excused from making) later in LOTR. But in other ways, they're extremely confusing. Galadriel is just such an enigmatic character, so distant and remote compared to our narrators the Hobbits, that her appearances feel almost disturbing.
Within Tolkien's mythos, Galadriel is probably the oldest Elf in Middle-earth (except for Círdan). She was born in Valinor and came to Middle-earth before the First Age of the Sun, with Feänor and the hosts of the Noldor. She is the daughter of Finarfin, who was the brother of Feänor and later the High King of the Elves. Although she was overshadowed by the shenanigans of the sons of Feänor in The Silmarillion, she was a major figure in the wars of the Second and Third Ages. In these chapters, she completely overshadows her soft-spoken husband Celeborn, who is typically described as a "kinsman of Thingol of Doriath" (which makes him a Sindarin Elf, and thus not really the equal of Galadriel's Noldorin heritage and power). Interestingly, Galadriel says that she passed over the mountains, likely meaning the Blue Mountains of Beleriand, before the fall of Nargothrond or Gondolin. Checking my sources, it seems that Tolkien has Galadriel and Celeborn espousing the belief that the War of the Jewels, fought against Sauron's former master Morgoth, was hopeless and thus they did not participate in the War of Wrath in which the Valar finally destroyed Morgoth's power in the North (and the entirety of Beleriand in the process). I think that says something about Galadriel's pragmatism. She is not one for clinging to false hope.
But the big question in my mind is why does Tolkien have the Company pass through Lórien before sending them down the Great River and to the confrontation between Frodo and Boromir that by this point is obviously coming up quickly? Did he just want to show off another Elvish kingdom? One of the most important moments in this chapter is when Galadriel mentally tests each member of the Company, and here more seeds are planted in Boromir's mind that will eventually lead to the breaking of the Fellowship. Does Galadriel's test push Boromir over the edge? It's interesting to speculate about whether Boromir would still be driven to do what he does even without Galadriel prompting him a little bit, with ideas about the salvation of Gondor. Galadriel's not all roses and moonbeams; I can easily interpret Aragorn's rebuttal of Boromir's distrust (that no evil is in Lórien except that which a person brings with them) to mean that Galadriel's magic magnifies and eventually exposes the evil within a person. Perhaps that is what happened here. I'm sure I'll talk more about Boromir and his motivations in the final chapter of "Fellowship." In any event, the test is very disturbing to most members of the Company.
On the other hand, Galadriel is a wonderful voice for understanding between the Elves and Gimli. When Celeborn expresses his wish that Gimli should have been refused entrance into Lórien had he known about the evil that the Dwarves had awoken in the mountains, Galadriel gently reproves him and reminds him about the beauty possessed and admired by the Dwarves. I dislike the word "tolerance," so I don't think that's what Galadriel is communicating here, but she is certainly able to place herself in the shoes of the Dwarves and understands what makes them tick. I also love the line about Gimli's dawning comprehension of the better path that Galadriel is offering, which is certainly the catalyst for Gimli and Legolas' future friendship: "…it seemed to him that he looked suddenly into the heart of an enemy and saw there love and understanding. Wonder came into his face, and then he smiled in answer." Gimli is surprised by the offer of reconciliation but then immediately accepts it.
The magic of the Elves and specifically Galadriel's power over the land and people of Lórien, is what permeates this chapter. Sam's comment about how "there's Elves and Elves" is quite on the nose -- Galadriel is quite a different sort of Elf from, say, Haldir or even Legolas, who have never known anything but Middle-earth and have no sense of connection to Valinor beyond a vague longing for the Sea (which rises in Legolas as the books progress). I'll talk more about Galadriel's connection to Valinor in the next chapter, where it really comes to the forefront, but she is set apart from the rank-and-file Elf of Lórien very distinctly. Frodo can feel the power pulsing through Lórien, generated by Galadriel and her Ring of Power; Sam not so much.
Finally, the titular "Mirror" of the chapter. What is this strange magical object, that presents visions of past, present, and future, scenes desired by those that look into the Mirror but also scenes unbidden and unrequested by either Galadriel or the person looking? As with so many things with Tolkien's magic, the Mirror resembles ancient magic tropes like scrying, but is so completely unexplained as to be wholly opaque.
I find it fascinating that Galadriel was looking forward to and anticipating the "test" placed before her by Frodo. She makes it sound like she was eagerly hoping it would be given to her. Why? Likely, deep down, Galadriel finds the promise of absolute power alluring. Who among us would not? Who among us doesn't smile a little bit at the thought of being absolutely loved and absolutely feared by everyone? But I think Galadriel wants to be presented with this test because she wants to prove to herself that she can pass it. That she is content -- or if not content, than accepting of the fact -- that she will "diminish, pass into the West, and remain Galadriel."
Part of Galadriel's acceptance goes back to that pragmatism that I mentioned earlier. The Elves -- or at least the Wise (like true elitists, they seem to keep a lot back from regular shmoes like Haldir) -- are very aware that the ages of Elvish dominance are over. In Tolkien's legendarium, the "Music" of Illúvitar (the god-figure) gives a season to everything and everything in its season. The Elves had their time, and it is passing, and the Age of Men is nearing. With that comes the lessening of Galadriel's power; even at this point, it does not extend past the borders of Lórien itself (similar to Tolkien's concept that these powerful beings are about to designate the boundaries of their power, but are all but powerless outside those borders, a la Tom Bombadil outside the Old Forest or Sauron both magnifying and confining his power with the Ring).
And second, Tolkien has made (most of) his Elves inherently good. Galadriel, as exhibited by the compassion she shows to Gimli in this chapter, believes in acting for the greater good. She knows that the destruction of Sauron will free Men from his oppression. It's interesting that in this chapter, Frodo and Galadriel both wish for things that would result in great harm: Frodo that Galadriel would take the Ring, and Galadriel that the Ring had never been found (which would have resulted in Sauron's unchecked expansion). But ultimately they both understand what they must do to benefit the greater good. In Galadriel's case, she knows that the destruction of the Ring will hasten the waning of the Elves' power; they placed so much of their power (or so we are told; I've never really understood the how or why of this) into the creation of the Three Rings, and with the destruction of the One Ring, the Master Ring, comes the destruction of the power of all the other rings as well. But despite that fact, she chooses to support the Quest instead of clinging to her slowly fading power in Middle-earth.
Isn't this a lesson that so many of us could benefit from? I'm certainly guilty of clinging to the past from time to time at the expense of the present.
Eric's Thoughts (10/12/14)
This is a chapter about temptation. In this chapter, the Lady Galadriel is offered a choice between preservation and destruction. The only price? That she claims a magical artifact that she knows will corrupt her and turn her into the very evil she is fighting. Galadriel knows that if she accepts this boon, she will fall.
I wonder if anyone considers considers themselves evil. I wonder if even Sauron does. Certainly people can admit they've done evil things. But I wonder if, in the real world, there's a single stereotypical James Bond villain who rubs his hands maniacally and cackles when the hero is cast into a tank of sharks. I suspect the truth is more complicated. In the real world, the Saurons think they're okay guys, not James Bond villains.
Lacking a concrete villain, it's difficult to know what Sauron has become, and why. (Perhaps you can fill the gaps with backstory, Ben. I don't remember how/why Sauron became evil, because if I remember he was a good guy too once.) What exactly does the Ring do to someone? For Sauron, it was an extension of himself -- he poured his own power into the Ring when forging it. That means that he had to become evil before making evil, right? Couldn't the good guys, then, have been able to craft another Ring of Power to defend against the One Ring? One that wasn't evil?
The real question is why is corruption inevitable from this Ring. The classic explanations of the Ring theme is that absolute power corrupts absolutely, and that power is a form of drug addiction. The ring is described as a tool for the domination of others. This means that thematically we are dealing with a James Bond villain -- one that merely wants to conquer the world for the sake of conquering it. Maybe Sauron was just insecure and wanted to prove something to himself -- and everyone else?? Maybe he was a psychopath???
Again, all of this is just speculation because at this point we don't really know what Sauron is, other than an Eye. Sauron himself is merely an idea, while the fruits of the idea are manifested in grotesque orcs and goblins, his servants.
Galadriel -- at this point we only know she is pretty, and counsels Celeborn to take back fast spoken words of critique against the Dwarf. She admits that she considered taking the Ring by force from Frodo.
Sauron, then, as long as the ring lasts, exists as the ultimate extension of evil -- one that turns friends against each other. Yet when the Ring is destroyed at the end of the book, assuredly evil is not destroyed. Saruman and his orcs are still chopping up the Shire, and assuredly more evil will follow in the years to come in Middle Earth. The Ring is not the root of all evil, clearly.
So then what is this Ring?
Unfortunately the answer evades me. Except to say that perhaps it is merely a storytelling device, a McGuffin, that allows the characters to have a quest. Perhaps all of the prior analyses of what the Ring is are wrong, and it is what it is -- a Ring created by an evil spirit that wreaks mischief does as the spirit does. I know it's not as poetic, but perhaps the Ring doesn't bring out the worst in us? Perhaps the Ring isn't a metaphor for power at all, but is -- dum dum dum -- just a Ring?
What's interesting is that Galadriel says that in order for Frodo to read her mind is that he will have to grow in power, and train himself in the domination of others. That means that Frodo has a choice, in a sense, to avoid the Ring's power. But then why does he fall under it's spell in the end? Does that mean that no one can escape from the Ring? If cute little Frodo can't, surely very few (if any) of us can.
And for Galadriel, she passes the test of the Ring, and decides to leave it all behind, hopefully for better things in the life to come. And yet in her choice she does not sound certain that it is the right choice, and that is not a comforting thought.
This is not a happy chapter.
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