Chapter 9: Shelob's Lair
Now this is a chapter. Gollum's treachery has been building towards this moment, and it lands a solid blow when it arrives: claustrophobic tension, the horror of the monster's eyes appearing in the dark, the backstory weighting the creature with monstrous import, the reveal as she appears in full form between Sam and Frodo in the tunnel, and finally Gollum's futile assault against Sam.
Most of my goodwill towards Sam stems from this chapter and the ones that follow, into Book 6, as here he shows his true mettle and rises to the task of combating the nearly hopeless situation that (admittedly) he himself contributed to create. Setting aside for a moment the mistakes that led the trio to this moment, Sam is marvelous here: rightly suspicious of Gollum; guessing that he has finally made his move when they find themselves abandoned in the tunnel; and outwitting the scheming "Stinker" at his own game. I felt like laughing a grim laugh at Tolkien's description of Gollum's ultimate failure:
Grabbing from behind was an old game of his, and seldom had he failed in it. But this time, misled by spite, he had made the mistake of speaking and gloating before he had both hands on his victim's neck. Everything had gone wrong with his beautiful plan, since that horrible light had so unexpectedly appeared in the darkness. And now he was face to face with a furious enemy, little less than his own size. This fight was not for him.The unveiling of the Phial of Galadriel is also one of those moments that makes the series for me. I appreciate that it's not the light itself but the resolve and fortitude of the bearer of the light that defeats the "unseen malice" of Shelob. Tolkien seems a firm believer in willpower, and when the hobbits' will is bent towards the defeat of evil, evil retreats. Only when Frodo and Sam's attention is directed elsewhere (Frodo on his irrational, exhilarating escape; Sam on the defeat of his old enemy Gollum) and the two are separated both physically and mentally is when Shelob is able to strike and overpower the light's bearer. Also significant is the continuation of the theme of the neverending story from the last chapter; Frodo cries in Quenya, " Hail Eärendil, brightest of stars!" as he advances towards the monster. Eärendil, if we recall, was the bearer of the Silmaril, sent to convince the gods of the Undying Lands to aid Elves and Men in their fight against Morgoth, the Great Enemy. Eärendil succeeds and is instrumental in Morgoth's defeat in a final battle, but may never return to earth; instead he resides in the heavens, the Silmaril eternally lighting the night sky. Frodo and Sam are the heirs, in this chapter and the next, of Eärendil's legacy of courage and defiance in the face of great evil.
Which of course brings us to Shelob. Tolkien's backstory reveals Shelob as a "child of Ungoliant." In The Silmarillion, we learn that Ungoliant is a Maia who assumed the physical form of a giant, monstrous spider, who was unaligned with either Morgoth or the Valar until Morgoth approaches her and convinces her to aid him in stealing the Silmarils from the Elves in the Undying Lands. Ungoliant kills and poisons the Trees that light the world while Morgoth steals the jewels. Back in Middle-earth, Ungoliant, intent on consuming the Silmarils as well, attacks Morgoth, who barely manages to fend her off. Ungoliant represents the primal desire to consume. She had no will to create; just to consume, to engorge herself on things of beauty and light to increase her own darkness. Shelob, as her heir and extension (not a Maia, but certainly a being of great power), adopts that legacy, and with Frodo re-enacts Ungoliant's role in the history of the Silmarils as she is confronted with the light that her mother in the ancient past desired to devour. She also represents the counterpoint to Sauron's quest for perfect, fascist, martial order: primal, base hunger and the desire to consume. Sauron, however evil, does create; he loves systems and structures and organization (as we'll see more of when we interact with the Mordor orcs in Book 6). Shelob desires to only feed. She is the ultimate primal animalistic force.
And this is what Sam's up against at the end of the chapter. The hobbits underestimated her will to consume; in a way, the reader senses that the more resistant and powerful the prey, the more Shelob's hunger will be sated. I've always felt that Shelob is a more terrifying antagonist than Sauron, for all of his armies. This chapter and the next represent some of the very best of The Lord of the Rings.
Jacob's Thoughts (3/4/16)
Like Ben said, these are the chapters that make the whole series. It's been fascinating throughout this entire re-read to see how even those of us reared on the series, with the fondest of childhood memories, have been surprisingly ruthless in our adult-eyed evaluations of Tolkien's literary shortcomings. I wonder if someone reading our varied posts might come to the conclusion that we actually disliked the series, that this whole blog is just a hatchet-job against one of our childhood heroes.
But then comes that one chapter--that singular chapter--in each Book, that makes the whole series worth while. In Book I, it was "A Knife in the Dark." In Book II, it was "The Bridge of Khazad-dûm." In Book III it was "The Voice of Saruman." Now in Book IV, the standout is "Shelob's Lair."
And it's not like you can just edit out all the other dross to just focus on the highlights; for what makes each of these chapters work is the pay-off. In Book I, it was the Dark Riders slowly circling in around our hapless Hobbits until they are cornered; in Book II, it was the increasing dread of the Mines of Moriah that exploded in a climax as spectacular as it was tragic; and in Book III, the various machinations of Saruman come to their logical conclusion. You needed all the shaky build-up (maybe the shakiness is part of what builds up the tension, cause you as a reader begin to wonder if Tolkien can pull it off and deliver yet again), for the blow to pack that much more of a punch.
And now here in Book IV, as Ben already noted, Gollum's treachery has been a long time coming--and though I was slightly disappointed that Gollum (not Smeagol, note) has reverted back to a straight villain, undermining whatever hint of hope or redemption his character represented, it is nevertheless hard to get too mad about it when it is couched amidst such a well-executed chapter.
Ben has already touched beautifully on most everything I would have mentioned, and then some, so I'll just confine myself to a side-note here about Mordor as a Necropolis. The term comes from the influential 2003 article "Necropolitics" by the Cameroon philosopher Achille Mbembe; my advisor suggested I read it for my dissertation. As Mbembe explains it, "I have put forward the notion of necropolitics and necropower to account for the various ways in which, in our contemporary world, weapons are deployed in the interest of maximum destruction of persons and the creation of death-worlds, new and unique forms of social existence in which vast populations are subjected to conditions of life conferring upon them the status of living dead" (40). Mbembe is addressing Foucault's concept of biopower, wherein the disciplinary powers of the state are inscribed directly onto the subject's body, which idea Mbembe finds insufficient to fully address the horrors of the modern state, as exemplified by the concentration camp, or the mercenaries and child-soldier armies that permanently roam the borderlands of contemporary Africa, or the Apartheid ghettos of Johannesburg.
I was reminded of the Necropolis based upon Tolkien's description of Shelob's relationship with Sauron, the latter of whom tolerates her presence because she provides "a more sure watch upon that ancient path than any other that his skill could have devised. And Orcs, they were useful slaves, but he had them in plenty. If now and again Shelob caught them to stay her appetite, she was welcome: he could spare them" (423-4). Mordor's is a societal order of endless death, wherein "vast populations are subjected to conditions conferring upon them the status of living dead." The Orcs are always expendable, and the absolutist Mordor state reserves all power to determine who lives or dies for any reason. Everyone and every living thing there exists solely to wind up dead, in an organization explicitly designed to maximize destruction and create "death worlds," which is as apt a description of the Land of Shadows as any.
Mordor is a modern state; it was conceptualized by an author who was fully aware of the concentration camps, and worse--for the Nazi Camps were intended as a "Final" Solution, a horror to be completed, but the Necropolis is intended as a permanent, never-ending, hellish order. This is the type of state, one dedicated solely to total and perpetual destruction, that most sends chills down the spine of Tolkien--as it does Mbembe, too. Again, don't let the retro-medievalism of LoTR fool you; by the measures of our most cutting edge thinkers, this text is incredibly modern.
Eric's Thoughts (5/15/16)
Frodo and Sam, after beating back an unseen beast with light, and cut through a swath of giant cobwebs that ricochet when struck with an ordinary sword, the hobbits emerge from the cave. Frodo in his desire to get away, separates from Sam. Shelob strikes. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse, it does. Gollum strikes. The point of view of Sam in this chapter plays a critical role in ratcheting up the tension--not only is Sam fighting for his own life, but he is engaged in a struggle that has a clear ticking clock -- Sam must not only defeat Gollum, but do it quickly so he can help Frodo. This is storytelling done well: make things worse, give a brief glimmer of hope, and then make things even worse.
As my fellow readers note, this chapter is the climax of the entire Two Towers. The hobbits face the dragon in its lair, so to speak, and Gollum reveals himself as a true villain. One can only wonder how the outcome might have changed if Sam's treatment of Gollum was different. That is why Gollum presents such an interesting antagonist -- it's not clear whether the creature had any hope at all, or whether this had been his rotten plan all along and nothing the hobbits did could have stopped its execution. It is the continued ambiguity in Gollum that partly makes this chapter so tragic and compelling.
I notice that Jacob believes this chapter stands up as well as "Khazad-Dum" and "Knife in the Dark" (and "The Voice of Saruman"). I agree. The four chapters Jacob mentions (including this one) are probably among my favorite as well. What's particularly interesting to me is the similarities between the four chapters and why they are so compelling:
1. Characters stripped of senses: Three of the four chapters take place at night, in the dark.
2. Claustrophobia: Two of the chapters are literally claustrophobic, involving tunnels and caves (Bridge and Shelob). "Knife in the Dark" is arguably claustrophobic as well for the simple reason that the hobbits are trapped on a hill, and are surrounded by dangerous beings closing in fast.
3. Superhuman villains: all four chapters present incredibly dangerous antagonists and otherworldly beings that present an immediate danger to the protagonists in their own way.
4. Success comes only at great price: "Knife in the Dark" involved Frodo getting stabbed and almost later dying from that wound; "Bridge" cost the Company Gandalf himself; "Voice" is tragic in that the loss of Saruman becomes final -- Saruman rejects Gandalf's overtures to cast away evil and join them; "Shelob's Lair" costs Frodo and Sam their guide, Gollum rejects the call to good, and Frodo himself falls victim to Shelob.
Further, each chapter presents a resolution to a strong dramatic question: Is Gollum bad (the reader suspects, but does not know for sure, whether he will betray Frodo)? When will the black riders actually strike, and what will their attack be like? What does the beating of the drums mean (it certainly can't be good)? Will Saruman turn anyone with his renowned Voice; and, when Gandalf tries to flip the script, will Saruman give up the mantle and find redemption among his old friends?
Tolkien answers each of those questions in the worst possible way: yes, Gollum is evil. Yes, the black riders are extremely dangerous and have weapons where a mere puncture will not only kill you, but blacken your very soul. Yes, a giant monster who is superior to Gandalf is behind the beating of the drums. No, Saruman cannot accept the redemption and forgiveness of his friends.
Shelob's Lair, like the other great chapters before it, contain the elements that make a chapter truly great to read: it preys on our darkest fears of monsters, darkness, claustrophobia, and our very guides through them all either vanishing or turning against us.
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