Chapter 8: The Scouring of the Shire
I've been waiting for this chapter for awhile--in no small part because there is no cinematic equivalent to compete with or override my imagination! The rise of the Hobbits, the Battle of Bywater, the slaughter of the ruffians and the final defeat of Saruman, exists solely on the pages of the text and in the stirrings of my imagination. There is consequently a sort of intimacy associated with this chapter, a private little portion of the Lord of the Rings trilogy that only I can see in my head--and that every other of its millions of readers can only see in their heads, as well. In a strange sort of way, the absence of a film version of "The Scouring of the Shire" simultaneously helps me feel like the series belongs solely to me, but also helps me feel connected to every other LoTR reader out there.
It's also just a fantastic little chapter in and of itself. It is not inappropriate to discuss Christ-analogues in LoTR, particularly given Tolkien's devout Catholicism; Gandalf's resurrection and Aragorn's messianic ascension to the throne have been the most obvious types. But here back at the entrance of the Shire, I now find myself considering if the Hobbits themselves are a sort of Christ-type as well: it is reminiscent of the parable found in Matthew 21, wherein the usurping husbandmen slay each of the representatives of the Lord of the Vineyard while he is away. "When the lord therefore of the vineyard cometh," asks Christ, "what will he do unto those husbandmen?" "He will miserably destroy those wicked men," his inquisitors confess.
It is a parable for the Second Coming of Christ, who will hold to account all who have tyranically misused and misruled the vineyard of the world. Perhaps if Gandalf represents Christ's resurrection, and Aragorn represents Christ's ascension, then the scouring of the Shire represents Christ cleansing the world of wickedness. Like Christ returning in a robe dyed red in the blood of the Atonement, Frodo and company return to redeem their people. The Return of the King maybe refers not just to the Return to the throne of Gondor, but the Return to the Shire.
This chapter also shows the Hobbits as a community coming into their own. Previously, it was only individual Hobbits--Bilbo, Frodo, etc.--who were venturing outside their comfort zone, learning courage, becoming more than they were. But now it is the Shire entire that has learned to rise up, resist, to be stronger than they thought they could be. They aren't just saved from ruffians and interlopers, but are also saved from their own complacency and timidity. As C.S. Lewis might claim, what is most important isn't just what the Hobbits do, but what they become. To quote the Apostle Paul, Weak things have been made Strong.
Also like Christ: Frodo urges against killing whenever possible--even against the murderous ruffians, even against traitorous Lotho, even against Saruman himself, remembering that he too was once good before he turned to darkness, like Lucifer, Son of the Morning. "Have I any pleasure that the wicked should die? saith the LORD" (Ezekial 18:23), and Frodo asks the same rhetorical question.
Saruman's death fits in with that of Sauron and the Witch-King, in that they all make the exact same mistake: they completely disregard the Hobbits until it is too late. You would think after Merry provided the assist that allowed Eowyn to slay the Nazgul, and especially after Frodo and Sam finish off Sauron once and for all, that Saruman would be a little more on his guard. But no, his pride would no more allow him to respect the Hobbits than it would allow him to submit to Gandalf. That same spiteful pride is also what causes him to kick Wormtongue one time too many, resulting in his own immediate and ignominious murder. Pride not only goeth before the fall, but before an especially humiliating fall, defeated not in glorious combat with those mighty wizards whom he considered his peers, but by the very people he despised the most.
Even with the rather dull denouement chapters, Book VI overall has featured an embarrassment of riches, and "The Scouring of the Shire" is one of them! It rates right up their with "Mount Doom," in my humble opinion! We'd previously discussed how each Book seemed to have one chapter, that one chapter that made the whole journey worthwhile. Book V didn't really have any such chapter (though it still had its moments), while Book VI has had at least two so far! Tolkein sure knows how to finish strong.
Ben's Thoughts (8/24/17)
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.
Eric's Thoughts (12/27/17)
The “Scouring of the Shire” is a story within a story—a self-contained dramatic arc that probably could be read independently, understood, and enjoyed as a great work of literature unto itself without having read one page of Lord of the Rings.
Structurally, the story begins with the hobbits Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo approaching their old stomping grounds. They’ve had a long journey and are “homeward bound” at last. But the expected hero’s welcome is an illusion—instead they are greeted by looming gates, skepticism, fear, and silly regulations. Tolkien makes clear that the Shire, painted earlier in the story as a utopia of green countryside and peaceful farmers, has been invaded and touched by the world of men.
Tolkien plays with structure even as he embraces it—the “Scouring of the Shire” is oddly out of place with the rest of the novel. As we were taught since grade school, after the story’s climax comes the resolution.
But The Lord of the Rings does not follow this structure. The climax of Tolkien’s Middle Earth epic is undoubtedly the destruction of the Ring earlier in “Mount Doom.” There, Sam and Frodo confront Baggins old nemesis Gollum, spare him yet again, and the doom of the story unfolds. The story then engages in resolution chapters, which are to be expected. But then LOTR suddenly diverges into a sub-plot (Scouring of the Shire) that is mostly unrelated to the main tale.
Interestingly, not one mention of the Ring is made in “Scouring of the Shire.” The Scouring of the Shire tells of a different arc—a washed up villain who was rejected and defeated in Middle Earth takes up the only abode he can—the place not up to speed on current events. Of course, what is interesting is that “Sharkey” is not the cause of the problem—and merely takes up an abode where Lotho already had created a tyrannical regime. Sharkey merely steps into Lotho’s shoes and attempts to increase the harm. So the root of tyranny in the Shire was actually the result of only one hobbit’s greed.
Of course, while this chapter could be read independently from The Lord of the Rings as a short story, the characters of Merry and Pippin are enriched because of this chapter—Scouring changes Merry and Pippin from clueless hobbits to bold leaders. Frodo benefits from the cruel mercy he bestows upon Saruman. (And it is nice to see the villains finally turn on one another.)
In short, Scouring of the Shire certainly carries deeper depth because of the backstory of Lord of the Rings, but the full LOTR treatment is not necessary here to appreciate this self-contained tale. “Scouring” has an immediate problem, rising tension, and a climax (homeward bound crew encounters something sinister afoot with the lack of reception coupled with mountains of regulations à confrontation with Shiriffs à confrontation with men à a battle involving hundreds of men and hobbits à a twist that Lotho was killed and replaced by Saruman à villains killing each other off). Scouring is really its own short story contained within the greater work of the novel.
As Ben and Jacob point out, there’s a lot going on here. Tolkien fills his narrative with jabs at the industrial world, describing a mill with many gears and wheels. In his description, Tolkien appears to question why we need faster and more efficient contraptions, especially if the price of such contraptions is pollution. And, obviously, Tolkien posits the silliness of the government state that interferes with a free-market farming economy. Tolkien also has fun poking fun at communism, where the hobbits talk about “sharers” that come along and collect the food and only give it to Lotho and his cronies. In short, Tolkien’s thesis seems to be that a farming culture free of technology and government intervention seems to be the ideal. Of course, Tolkien advances this ideology even as as he mocks it—the only reason such a world can exist is because men and elves embraced technologies and progress that allowed them to withstand the evil of Sauron.
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