Final Thoughts with a Hobbity Twist

While we were discussing all our final thoughts and takeaways from the semester, I could not help but consider how earlier on during the semester I felt like Bilbo Baggins in the early chapters of The Hobbit.  You see, I classify myself as being more introverted, and I'm generally pretty quiet in class discussions.  In fact, I normally begin to fret when I hear that a large percentage of my final grade will come out of participation points.  I confess I began to worry at the beginning of this semester.  Just like Bilbo had no original interest in going on an adventure, so too did I not initially want to use my voice during classtime.

However, we all know how the story goes.  Bilbo wakes up to find the dwarves out of his house, but without much choice of his own, he is shoved out his door by Gandalf to accompany Thorin and his band on their great quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain.  Well, I feel like my Bag-End is my reserved attitude, and this class served as Gandalf, giving me the shove out the door and out of my comfort zone. 

Yet, for all my early fears about having to speak up and engage in discussion, I return to my hobbit hole quite changed.  I felt so comfortable in this class to share my opinions, ask questions, and ultimately be an active participant to a degree unlike any other Honors class I have taken.  Like all the hobbits in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings when they returned to the Shire, I feel different, and this in a good way.  With the semester coming to a close, I return to my metaphorical Bag-End of introversion.  While that is still who I am, I don't feel like I have to hide behind that every time I enter a classroom anymore.  In fact, I'm already eager to revisit Rivendell, the Lonely Mountains, and Lake-town to see whether this most uncharacteristic change will persist.  I believe it will.

So, with that being said, I want to thank Dr. Donovan and the rest of the class for a fantastic semester, one that will go down in the books as one the strangest but more importantly one of the fondest.  Have a great summer, and perhaps our paths will cross again when we are all able to pop out of our hobbit holes once more.

Signing out,

Aragorn (Daniel)

The Scouring of the Shire

Reading The Lord of the Rings this most recent time introduced me to something very interesting about Chapter 8 of The Return of the King.  According to Tolkien's own words and alluded to throughout the narrative, the Scouring of the Shire was "foreseen from the outset."  This strikes me as somewhat odd since the whole story seems to hinge on the destruction of the ring, and while this may partially be Tolkien's intention, I think his decision to conclude the dramatic side of the story through sacking the Shire indicates that something more was behind his plans.  The Lord of the Rings was more than just a story of destroying a horrible evil.  It is also a catalog of personal growth.

Each of the four hobbits left the Shire not quite understanding what dangers and perils they would find themselves in.  Frodo did not yet understand the full corruptive power of the ring, Sam had not yet foregone the comforts of home for the discomforts of the road, Merry had not yet developed the full attributes of a leader, and Pippin had not yet found his courage.  However, upon return to the Shire, each one had gone through numerous trials, encountered great difficulties, and experienced tragic loss, and through these, they grew into the hobbits they were supposed to be.  I hesitate to argue this, but perhaps their transformations and the final trial of the Scouring provide the climax of the entire story.

Additionally, we discussed throughout the semester various instances in which Tolkien alludes to what is to come.  The history of the Old Forest, Sam's vision in the Mirror of Galadriel, and the spoils of Isengard all tease what will happen to their beloved home, and I suppose I was able to better catch these references this time around.  Still, something I haven't considered until writing this post is that these references I listed all involve a hobbit.  Merry retells the story of the forest, Sam looks into the mirror, and Merry and Pippin discover the pipeweed after Saruman's defeat.  I think this small detail is tremendously important.  If Tolkien alluded to this event primarily through Gimli, Legolas, or even Aragorn (though I think his role as a Ranger guarding the free lands of the West might excuse him), the gravity of the hobbits' discovery would not be as poignant.

This chapter remains one of my favorites in all of The Lord of the Rings.  The idea that life continues on, even after the destruction of the evil ring, is important to me.  I'm a steadfast believer in the concept of happy endings (or eucatastrophe, if you please), and I can also appreciate Tolkien's writing his ending to be more reflective of real life.  Struggles will spring up sometimes where we least expect them, but ultimately hope and joy will still prevail.

The Plot Twist at Mount Doom

Chapter 3 of The Return of the King contains one of the book's greatest plot twists, Frodo's inability to destroy the Ring.  All throughout The Lord of the Rings, so much discussion pertained to the Ring's destruction that by the time Frodo and Sam reached Mount Doom, we too as the readers felt as though we had traveled all the way with them.  Over 900 pages of plot led to this moment, and it felt as though the weight would be lifted off our shoulders right with Frodo as he cast the Ring into the fire.  Except, he did not.  Right in the midst of the story's climax, Frodo pulled back the source of his suffering and succumbed to its temptation.

I personally cannot remember my initial reaction when I first read this scene, but even now I am impressed that Tolkien took something that was destined to be predictable, the Ring's destruction, and turned into something unforgettable.  He does this with firm evidence backing up Frodo's decision.  All along the way, we see the hobbit grow weaker and weaker as he carries the burden of the Ring and especially after his startling accusation against Sam in the tower of Cirith Ungol.  The reader suspects something is not alright with Frodo, but the Quest must go on.  

Tolkien also carried out this plot twist without sacrificing his happy ending.  It would have been easy for Tolkien to have made the Quest an ultimate failure.  Frodo cannot destroy the Ring.  Gollum takes it back at the edge of the Cracks of Doom, and rather than falling into the fire, he could have walked out, and all hope would have been lost.  The forces of good would have been defeated, and the whole story would have ended tragically.  I do not perceive this plotline ever being part of Tolkien's plan.  No, the happy ending was absolute.  The Ring would be destroyed, just not in the way the reader suspected it to be.

Tolkien once again proves his prowess for storytelling.  By taking something predictable and changing it enough to be familiar yet unforeseen, he could both shock and satisfy his audience.  That's quite an effective plot twist.

Loyalty and Leadership in The Return of the King

Last class, we discussed the contrasting qualities of Theoden and Denethor.  One rode out heroically with his armies while the other stayed far away, hidden from the people's eyes and out of harm's way.  I hope to expand upon these differences by discussing loyalty and also broaden the scope to consider Aragorn and Faramir as well.  If The Return of the King expounds upon anything, it seems to be the qualities of leadership of which loyalty is undoubtedly a piece.

The people of Rohan were loyal to Theoden, their king, even if he was at one time under the poisonous influence of Saruman and Grima.  Once he had regained his strength and courage, the Rohirrim rallied around him to march off to war against Isengard, and then, with little respite, rally to the aid of Gondor.  Yet, even before Theoden recovered from Saruman's spell, his people still had the utmost loyalty for their king.  When Theoden listened to Grima's advice and thus isolated himself--as another Blog post so interestingly discusses--the people of Rohan remained loyal.  Theoden, ill or well, was their king, and his decisions they would follow.  With such loyalty, it is no wonder that Rohan would follow its king to certain doom on the fields before Minas Tirith.

The same is not true for Denethor, Steward of Gondor.  Locked away in his proverbial (and seemingly literal) ivory tower, Denethor did not actively engage with his people nor inspire confidence in his armies.  If any man in Gondor filled this vacancy, it was Faramir, Denethor's son.  While the men of Gondor, and particularly the Citadel Guard, were commanded to remain at their posts unless relieved by the Steward, one of these guards, Beregond, abandoned his post to confront his own lord in the protection of Faramir.  Denethor inspired fear and distrust; Faramir received allegiance and the people's loyalty more than his father could know.

Finally, Aragorn, the returned king of Gondor received the highest degree of loyalty.  Unknown by many and with wonder circulating as to whether he was truly the descendent of Elendil and Isildur, Aragorn did not demand the loyalties of his people.  Rather, his actions earned him the people's respect, including the rulers of both Rohan and Gondor.  Faramir recognized the position Aragorn was claiming, and he relinquished his command of Gondor without hesitation as did Prince Imrahil and the other lords of Gondor.  Unlike Denethor, Aragorn was among his people and demonstrated the admirable qualities of a leader.

The Lord of the Rings introduces many leadership figures throughout its pages.  From Elrond in Rivendell to Galadriel in Lothlorien, Theoden in Rohan to Denethor in Gondor, and even evil leaders like Saruman and the Witch-king, Tolkien fleshes out distinctions among all of them to illustrate what he viewed as the characteristics of a good leader.  Just a close examination of the qualities of Theoden, Faramir, and Aragorn shows us how good leadership is often rewarded by true loyalty, not coerced but inspired, that would lead someone to leave his home and family to follow his king to the edge of defeat and into the shadows of doom.

Cinematic Liberty and The Lord of the Rings

Something that has bothered me for some time is how the final chapters of The Two Towers in which Frodo, Sam, and Gollum travel to the very edges of Mordor are inserted into the movie version of The Return of the King.  Why would Peter Jackson put Minas Morgul, the Secret Stairs, and Shelob's Lair in the third installment of The Lord of the Rings? 

J.R.R. Tolkien crafted a marvelous cliff-hanger to conclude The Two Towers.  A living Frodo is abducted by orcs and imprisoned in a near-impenetrable tower.  Sam is the new Ring-Bearer and refuses to go on the quest without Frodo.  Gollum's malicious nature has reached its apex, and he lies dangerously near in wait for the ring.  To only complicate matters, Tolkien's style of splitting each book into one part dedicated to Frodo and Sam and another to the remainder of the Fellowship ensures that the reader will have to wait all the way through Book 5 before the journey of the ring is picked up again.  The end of The Two Towers is a masterful ending, and it is a genuine shame that Peter Jackson deviated from it as much as he did.

However, I understand why Jackson may have made the decisions he did. Had he decided to finish The Two Towers with Frodo's capture and Sam's difficult decision, he would have only been left with the skirmish at Cirith Ungol, the passage of Mordor, and the final destruction of the Ring in The Return of the King.  After all, the majority of Book 6 of The Lord of the Rings takes place after the destruction of the ring.  Still then, Jackson may have been able to fit more of the return journey back and the Scouring of the Shire had he stayed more faithful to the books themselves.

I am an avid fan of the movies, and I do not always turn up my nose at cinematic liberty (i.e., the elves at Helm's Deep). Still, I do wonder how directors decide what to keep from the original source and what they choose to change or even discard.  Jackson added a visit to Osgiliath in The Two Towers but wrote out the takeover of the Shire by Saruman.  The former served little purpose while the other would have dramatically shown the tremendous changes each of the hobbits encountered on their journey that prepared them to stand up to a rogue wizard and his motley band of thugs.

What are your thoughts on cinematic liberty?  Why do you think directors are fine with "messing with" the order of events?  Do you think the movies would have been better had they kept with Tolkien's design?

The Passage of Time in The Lord of the Rings

As we have been reviewing The Two Towers this past week, I have been reminded about how little time actually progresses from start to finish, particularly in Book 3.  It starts with the death of Boromir and concludes with the parley at Isengard.  I checked Appendix B of The Lord of the Rings to see precisely how many days passed between these two events, and what I found is that Book 3 consists of only ten days.  Similarly, Book 4 of The Two Towers regarding Frodo and Sam's quest only takes 18 days.  Contrasted with the entire Fellowship of the Ring, which includes over eighteen years of events, The Two Towers packs a lot of information in a short amount of text.

I wonder why Tolkien decided to dedicate so much time within The Fellowship of the Ring while making the sequel significantly shorter.  On the surface, perhaps it could have been to quicken the pace and insert the necessary degree of urgency as Middle-Earth prepared for its great and final conflict.  When reading The Two Towers, the change in pace seems fairly obvious as the plot develops quite quickly.  Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas pursue the hobbits, encounter the Riders of Rohan, and soon battle at the fortress of Helm's Deep with their new friends all in under a week.  On the other hand, Merry and Pippin escape the orc band, meet Treebeard, sack Isengard, and reunite with their friends by the end of those ten days.  So much happens in so little time, and I for myself struggle to comprehend that this is not taking weeks upon weeks to accomplish.

Furthermore, Tolkien's technique of splitting up The Two Towers into one book dedicated to Frodo and Sam and another to the remainder of the Fellowship plays with time as well.  As I mentioned above, Frodo and Sam's half of Two Towers takes eight more days to tell.  Thus, in the second half of Book 4, the first half of Book 5 in the Return of the King is already underway.  To give an example, when Frodo is stung by Shelob, Gandalf and Pippin had already been in Minas Tirith for nearly four days, Aragorn was currently battling Corsairs at Pelargir, and the Rohirrim was on its way to Gondor's aid.  All in all, Tolkien shifts the timeframe in The Two Towers and The Return of the King four times.

Why do you think Tolkien decided to write The Two Towers and The Return of the King in their split styles?  What do you think was his rationale for spending so much time in The Fellowship of the Ring and speeding up the plot significantly in the other books?

Boromir, a Tragic Hero(?)

With all the discussion circulating about heroism, I continually return in my thoughts to how that noble quality relates to The Lord of the Ring's enigmatic man, Boromir of Gondor.  Of all the nine members of the Fellowship, Boromir is the one whose role is the smallest though his reputation is among the most discussed.  Also interesting, Boromir, though he dies at the very beginning of The Two Towers, is a critical figure throughout the rest of the story.  This is in no small part due to Tolkien's elaboration of Boromir's family, namely his brother Faramir and father Denethor.  Both these characters in their own right bring much to the table of plot, but even then, their character development relies significantly on what is already known about Boromir.  So then, how should the reader interpret this character?

For one, Boromir's character arc enabled Tolkien to add a tragic element to his story, thus establishing the gravity and fragility of the Fellowship's aim, destroying the Ring.  When the class discussed the chapters covering Lothlorien, it was noted that Boromir's change seemed to be most manifest after leaving the Golden Wood.  I think this is essential to understanding Boromir.  Galadriel had tested each member of the Fellowship with what "a choice between a shadow full of fear that lay ahead, and something that [each] greatly desired."  We, as the reader, suspect what Boromir has been tested with based on his odd behavior after that moment. Still, Sam finally puts our suspicions into words when he tells Faramir that Boromir saw in Lothlorien that which he wanted so desperately, the Ring of Power.

Boromir was almost written to be an inadvertent foil to the mission of the Quest.  He routinely proposes that the Ring be taken to Gondor under the safekeeping of the steward and of the mighty walls of Minas Tirith.  While his suggestion that the Ring could be used against the forces of Mordor is blatantly ignorant of such an action's ramifications, his intentions don't seem to be solely the product of selfishness or an undying lust for personal power.  Boromir certainly demonstrates much pride, and in some respects that causes his downfall, yet Tolkien seems to continually remind the writer of Boromir's good qualities in lieu of his bad.  When asked by Faramir if he was a friend of Boromir's, Frodo responds by saying he was for his part, no less remembering what Boromir had tried to do at Amon Hen.  The hobbit is generally dismayed by the news of Boromir's passing, and that alone speaks volumes to the real nature of Boromir before he was overtaken by his temptatious desire.

Finally, I want to conclude by comparing the character of Boromir with that of Sir Gawain as I see some striking similarities between the two.  In his analysis (thoroughly compiled by Christopher Tolkien) of "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight," J.R.R. Tolkien expresses what he viewed as Sir Gawain's various qualities, whether admirable or not, "a subtle form of pride," "the warmth of his character," generosity, and impetuosity.  I see some of these same qualities displayed in Boromir.  He displayed a keen sense of pride in Gondor and, to a degree, his status in that kingdom. However, throughout the book he is also seen as being a warm, friendly man.  Even when he confronts Frodo at Amon Hen, he initially approaches the hobbit kindly, offering his counsel.  That was his real nature, but of course, we all know what his madness for the Ring would also produce mere moments later.  Still, the Boromir that sought to take the Ring from Frodo was not the true man of Gondor just as the same Bibo Baggins whose countenance so sharply shifted when he saw the Ring in Rivendell was not the true Bilbo Baggins.  The temptation of the Ring drew out the worst in both, illustrated excellently by the corruption of Gollum.

Boromir's failure should not define him.  Just as Sir Gawain made a mistake in withholding the girdle from the lord of the castle, so too did Boromir gravely err in trying to steal the Ring.  Boromir's actions are not admirable and should not be treated thus, but his mistake breaks "the mathematical perfection of an ideal creature, inhuman in flawlessness" by presenting him as a tragic archetype of the consequences of falling into temptation.  Still, Boromir after his great mistake demonstrates heroism by recognizing his errors, seeking forgiveness--tragically Frodo is not there to hear Boromir's sorrowful pleas, and ultimately sacrifices his life in defense of Merry and Pippin.  Through his struggles, Boromir, like Sir Gawain, "becomes a real man," imperfect, flawed and not always admirable but still with such qualities that cause us to mourn his departure.  As a result, Boromir exists as a form of tragic hero, one who deserves both sympathy and rebuke.

I'm curious, though.  How do you view Boromir?  Was Peter Jackson perhaps too forgiving in his portrayal of him in the movie adaptations?

Galadriel and Lothlorien

The sequence of chapters taking place in the forest of Lothlorien is among my favorites in the entirety of The Lord of the Rings.  It offers a respite from the high-stakes drama that immediately preceded in the mines of Moria and the plot-turning betrayal at Amon Hen that breaks the Fellowship and sends them off on their own directions and quests.  Lothlorien is the calm before the storm, and as we saw in class each chapter contains highly relevant moments and events that shape the rest of the story.

Lothlorien is also a demonstration of Tolkien's masterful artfulness.  The forest is unique and filled with lore.  The trees are lined with silver bark and adorned with golden leaves while music runs through the air reminding travelers of elven tales long past.  Tolkien allows his reader to escape the darkness of the mines and rest along with his reader.  That is perhaps why these chapters are so enjoyable.  They accomplish their purpose both for the fictional characters within the story and also those in the real world glancing at this strange world through words on a page.

Additionally, these Lothlorien chapters introduce the reader to Galadriel, one of the most perplexing characters in all of Tolkien's writings.  I feel as though the movie adaptations of this elven queen did not do her as much service as she required.  She was portrayed as deeply enigmatic and frankly a little odd.  While the viewer grew to trust and appreciate her, the sequence where Frodo offers her the Ring after looking into the Mirror is a little unsettling, though not altogether inaccurate.

Reading these chapters gives the reader a better look into who Galadriel is and why she is relevant.  Her testing of each of the members of the Fellowship foreshadows her own trial and also the events to come involving Boromir.  She tested each with their great desire apart from the Quest, and it does seem that she sees the loyalties of each--with the possible exception of Boromir.  She lavishes all the company with gifts and supplies, uncharacteristic of the Lorien elves to do, and she herself sees them off with much encouragement and hope.

Finally, Galadriel recognizes that the destruction of the Ring would result in the end of her people's way of life.  However, she does not resist or protest the Quest but accepts her fate doing what she can to help the Fellowship be successful.  Galadriel is imperfect, as we discussed in class, but in her, we see a character who is willing to forsake her temptatious desires and play whatever part she could for the good of a world she would not be a part of.

Lothlorien and Galadriel represent what is noble in Middle-Earth.  It is difficult, it seems, for the Fellowship and the reader to leave those fair woods never to return in the course of the story.  Nevertheless, they represent some of that which the Fellowship fights for.  Of course, with the destruction of the Ring, Lothlorien and its inhabitants would "diminish" but the traits those fair woods represent continue on as a reminder of that which is good and worth facing great challenges for.

"She also took the spoons."

Something I have been discovering more and more as I dig into Tolkien's works is his keen sense of humor.  I suppose that the reason I missed so many of his quips the first time I read The Lord of the Rings was due to my being so young when I read it.  Now, as I am older, I feel as though I catch more of the jokes and can (sometimes quite literally) laugh at the humor.  I have also experienced this same discovery rereading other works such as C.S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia.  Books like these possess a new meaning when read outside of childhood, and the clever techniques utilized by the author are much more apparent.

One particular passage that I believe exemplifies Tolkien's usage of humor is found in the list of Bilbo's gifts to other hobbits in the Shire.  "For Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, as a present; on a case of silver spoons.  Bilbo believed that she had acquired a good many of his spoons, while he was away on his former journey.  Lobelia knew that quite well.  When she arrived later in the day, she took the point at once, but she also took the spoons."

That last line is brilliant humor.  It is well-crafted, witty, and memorable, and it is moments like these throughout the book that make the story shine.  It is almost as if for one split-second, the reader escapes the narrative of the story learning more about the author than about his characters.  For me, I love these little moments in which one almost hears the voice of the author himself in the middle of a developing story.  While this particular example is difficult to miss, there are other moments throughout the story in which it seems as though Tolkien includes a humorous moment or line of dialogue so as to temporarily distract the reader from the gravitas of the central plot.  Tolkien's humor is yet another example of his mastery of storytelling and an often subtle feature that makes his works so enjoyable to read.

Foreshadowing in the Fellowship

While listening to each group describe what their assigned quote contributed to the chapter and to the story as a whole, I kept being reminded about how some features in these earlier chapters of The Fellowship of the Ring foreshadowed events to come.  While this, of course, is a standard tool authors use to make a well-designed story, I am surprised at how Tolkien incorporated foreshadowing in the most subtle, obscure places of his book.

One such example concerned Chapter 6, "The Old Forest."  I feel like Merry's speech concerning the history of the forest really foreshadowed events to come in both The Two Towers and The Return of the King.  First, it was interesting to see how trees could display animosity and was perhaps the first instance in The Lord of the Rings in which the reader heard of how anthropomorphic the trees in Middle-Earth could be.  After all, much of The Two Towers revolves around moving trees angry with Isengard for its treachery and destruction.  Likewise, this history of the Old Forest foreshadows the Scouring of the Shire, as was mentioned in class.  The beautiful, pastoral home of the hobbits was burned, and its trees were cut down by Saruman and his thugs.  Seeing how some of the Old Forest, being so close to the Shire, was burnt and destroyed by the hobbits could serve as a reminder of what is to come for the hobbit's own land in the future.

Finally, I also thought of how the swords the hobbits acquired on the Barrow-Downs in Chapter 8 provide some foreshadowing.  These swords, Tom Bombadil explained to them, came from the Men of Westernesse who were enemies of Angmar.  Merry received one of these swords and used it against the Witch-king of Angmar during the Battle of Pelennor Fields.  "No other blade...would have dealt that foe a wound so bitter."  Even when the hobbits were far away on the borders of the Shire, Tolkien had already foreshadowed a great event to come.  Nevertheless, he made all these foreshadowings unobvious.  Not until the story played out could they really be seen for what they might have alluded to in the first place.

Tolkien and Allegory

"I dislike Allegory--the conscious and intentional allegory--yet any attempt to explain the purport of myth or fairytale must use allegorical language.  (And, of course, the more 'life' a story has the more readily will it be susceptible of allegorical interpretations: while the better a deliberate allegory is made the more nearly will it be acceptable just as a story."

Most Tolkien admirers know of the author's relative distaste for allegory as illustrated in this now-famous quote written in a letter he sent to Milton Waldman.  And as has been raised periodically during this semester, Tolkien was pretty critical of his friend C.S. Lewis's unabashed allegory in The Chronicles of Narnia.  Yet, when I read The Lord of the Rings recently, I could not help but notice that that work, along with his others, seem to rely heavily on strong spiritual themes and allusions.  How then, I wondered, could these works not be considered as allegory?

Then I came across the aforementioned quote in the Preface of my copy of The Silmarillion, and for a moment, Tolkien's usage of allegorical motifs seemed to make a little more sense.  For one, Tolkien disliked "conscious and intentional allegory."  Tolkien's description of the dragon in Beowulf, I believe, better demonstrates this point.  It, being the dragon, does not quite exemplify draco, the "personification of malice, greed, destruction" but instead is written quite simply as a dragon, more independent of the qualities and vices commonly associated with the creature.  Tolkien goes on stating quite simply that "the large symbolism [of the dragon] is near the surface, but it does not break through, nor become allegory."  The dragon revealed traits of those vices associated with it, but it does not become that thing in a purely allegorical sense, just how Tolkien would have likely approved.

The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and The Silmarillion utilize "allegorical language" without falling into allegory themselves.  Undoubtedly, characters, events, and features in each of these books resemble many elements of the real world, yet Tolkien masterfully ensures that his characters do not become that which they tend to represent.  As a result, upon reading these books, it may appear as though much of what is written is strictly metaphorical, but that is because Tolkien infused his stories with themes about life familiar to many people.  Far from being pure Allegory, Tolkien masterfully employs techniques that remind readers of that which they might already know without intending for his story to be a retelling of one already told.

The End of a Quest--Not Necessarily the End of the Story

As I have been wrapping up The Return of the King and through the class's discussions on The Hobbit, I have been reminded of a feature of Tolkien's writing that I find very interesting.  In both of these books, the story does not end with the completion of the central quest.  In The Hobbit, the book does not conclude with the defeat of the dragon.  While the main plot revolved around the company of dwarves' retaking their homeland through destroying Smaug, Tolkien surprises readers by having much more to say even once Bard the Bowman smites the evil beast.  Similarly, in The Return of the King, the ring's destruction does not draw the curtains of the story.  Six more chapters remain between the climb up Mount Doom and the departure to the Grey Havens.

While I believe that Tolkien intended the dragon's defeat and the ring's destruction to be the mechanisms for moving the story's plot, I also think he is intentional in choosing not to end the overall story with the conclusion of the central quests.  If the story were to end with Smaug's death, then we would never have fully seen the completion of Bilbo's dramatic character development.  While Bilbo had changed much from the dinner party at Bag-End, he still had yet to fully demonstrate his courage by going behind Thorin's back and delivering the Arkenstone to Bard.  While confronting trolls, orcs, Gollum, spiders, and the dragon were all incredible feats of courage, Bilbo's "betrayal" of his dwarven friend was actually his most significant show of bravery as he knew Thorin in his madness would despise him for it.  Tolkien needed his protagonist to finish his story arc, and that required an extended plot beyond the golden cavern of Smaug.

Likewise, in The Lord of the Rings, destroying the ring ended Frodo and his friends' quest, but the story still required appropriate denouement.  Aragorn had to fully embrace the kingship of Gondor, and the four hobbits still had to confront the reality of their pleasant, pastoral land being ravaged by Saruman.  And even beyond this unexpected setback, Frodo's story ended with his leaving the shores of Middle-Earth with Gandalf, Bilbo, and the elves.  The quest of the ring brought all these characters together, and they all shared common experiences.  In the end, each had his own ending, and Tolkien wished to share these with his readers.

I am glad Tolkien wrote these stories' endings the way he did.   I believe they are more reflective of how real life works.  After tackling present obstacles, a person's life and story do not end there.  There is more to do and more challenges to face.  Tolkien demonstrates this by adding so much more after those chapters that would normally (and arguably are) the points of highest emotion.  That Tolkien has more to say is another reason why I think both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings are still so popular today.

Rules and Promises--"Riddles in the Dark"

"Riddles in the Dark" is perhaps my favorite chapter in The Hobbit.  It introduces the reader to the Ring, to Gollum, and to the event that set forth the events of The Lord of the Rings.  Yet, never before had I deeply considered the role of ancient rules in the great riddle battle between Bilbo Baggins and Gollum.  It seems somewhat odd that I would neglect such a detail.  After all, had I been in Bilbo's shoes lost in the deep darkness of the mountains discovered only by a strange creature intent on devouring me whole, I do not believe I would have put my life on the line through answering riddles.  For one, I am not very adept at answering or asking riddles, but also I would be in possession of a sword and might have used that first when approached by a mysterious creature in the bowels of a goblin pit.  All this made me wonder why both Bilbo and Gollum were content to settle such a matter through a game and whether Bilbo himself would have held to the outcome had he failed to answer one of Gollum's questions.

Gollum himself was intent on breaking the rules of the game by failing to live up to his promise to show Bilbo out if he lost.  When he could not answer Bilbo's famous question concerning pockets and their mysterious contents, Gollum resorted to what would have been cold-blooded murder had he the Ring in his possession.  So while Gollum adhered to the rules during the game, when he had lost, he discarded them and would have carried on in his wicked ways had he the tools to do so.

Bilbo suspected this treachery and was prepared to respond should Gollum suddenly attack him, but I wonder what Bilbo would have done if he could not devise an answer to Gollum's last question.  Would he have allowed himself to be eaten?  If I were in Bilbo's shoes, would I?  Absolutely not.  Thus, could it be possible that both Bilbo and Gollum were prepared to break the ancient rules of riddling when they first agreed to such a game?  I think this is highly likely unless both were firm in their belief that they would walk away victorious and were willing to put their lives--or dinner--on the line.  Perhaps, though, Bilbo had an inkling that Gollum would live up to his word and show the hobbit out, though I believe Bilbo was overall distrustful of the creature, and such unwarranted trust would be terribly naive.  Ultimately, Bilbo probably felt as though he had no other choice and did not wish to antagonize such a dangerous character who was bent on having hobbit for supper.

Whatever the explanation might be, I was glad that a new element was added to my enjoyment of this scene.  I wonder what other subtleties lie within The Hobbit just waiting to come out into the light!

I am Aragorn

I am called Aragorn though I have a great many other names that have been given to me.  To some, I am Strider, the Ranger of the North, one of the Dunedain of the line of Numenor, while to my elven companions, I am called Elessar. I served as one of the nine companions known as the Fellowship of the Ring aiding the hobbit Frodo as he sought to destroy the One Ring in Mordor.

Yet, upon the breaking of the fellowship, I set out on my own adventure accompanied by my friends Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf to save the kingdoms of Rohan and Gondor from certain destruction.  I am a descendant of the kings of Gondor and wielding the reforged sword Anduril, the scourge of Sauron, I returned to Minas Tirith and took my place as king.  I am wed to Arwen Evenstar, daughter of Elrond, the lord of Rivendell where I grew up and was treated as a son.

Many of my companions, particularly the hobbits, would have described me as strange and mysterious when they first came across me at the Prancing Pony, but through the course of events leading to the dawn of the Fourth Age, I increasingly walked down the path that had been set before me and embraced the kingly destiny I had been born with.  With wise counsel and loyal friends, I am a friend to many who are fair and good but a dangerous foe to those who wished to bring Middle-Earth under a shroud of darkness.

So, my advice to all those who may read this is this: be slow to judge someone before you know them, for they may just surprise you.  After all, "All that is gold does not glitter."