I tend to run the last two Chapters in Book 4 together in my mind. Shelob. The Orcs. The capture of Frodo. The choices of Sam – now called “Master Samwise” in a possible subtle indication of the passing of the torch from Frodo to Sam. And so, I will offer some thoughts about the last two Chapters together, in one piece. Not too much, because I feel that more than most of the other Chapters in LOTR, these two speak for themselves. And then I think I will mentally rest awhile (a couple of hours, anyway) in admiration for all Tolkien has accomplished and shared in the course of a simple journey from the Emyn Muil to the heights above Mordor.
The Way of the Choice
What struck me most about what Sam decided to do after he thought Frodo was dead was the way he ultimately made that decision (yes, I know I’m weird).
If you look at modern theories of the brain, very, very loosely, they conjure up a rational brain superimposed on a brain of emotions (and urges), which is in turn superimposed on a “core” brain of instincts (and reflexes).
Now look at how Sam made his decision. First, he tries to put aside his grief and reason it out. And he does a pretty good job of it. I hope we’d all agree that the rational thing to do, if Frodo is dead and the Quest must succeed, is for Sam to take up the burden and try to finish the job. There’s no one else to do it within a reasonable distance, and only so much time to get it done. By elimination, Sam is the only one who has a possibility of putting the Ring in the Fire. So Sam accesses his rational brain, the one we typically depend on to make the best decisions, and comes out with a good plan.
But his emotional brain keeps telling him that’s wrong, louder and louder. And yet he soldiers on until suddenly he runs into the Orcs. And that puts him into the instinctual brain, fight or flight, and he flees, and he instinctively (that’s the way I think it’s described) puts on the Ring. And the Ring doesn’t tempt him with fantasies – he’s still in flight or fight mode – and the Ring doesn’t provide the courage to snap him out of his instinctual brain. And then he learns that Frodo’s in danger, and now he’s in fight mode, plus his emotions are running wild; and the words he uses to justify his throwing the Quest away and going back to his Master are in a sense rationalizations of the urge to defend the home, the nest, the friend of his soul. All the way until he learns Frodo isn’t dead, and that sends him into a final frenzy of instinct, all the way to the end. All the way until he exhausts himself from a reckless chase and then batters himself senseless on a closed gate.
And that’s how he makes his ultimate decision. On instinct and emotion.
There’s a nice phrase in Dorothy Dunnett: “But a man’s body is not an enemy but a partner to his soul,” iirc. I am guessing that the soul is reason and the “higher” emotions, and the body is the “lower” emotions plus the instincts, like food and sex. And medieval Christian theology would, indeed, often portray the two as opposed in one’s striving toward eternity, with the body dragging down the soul, and with the body needing to be chained so that it could no longer hinder the soul. But Sam is no anchorite. The lower and higher emotions and the instincts are all pulling one way, and reason is pulling another; the body and the “higher” emotions are pulling towards Frodo, and only that stubborn ingrate “reason” is pulling away. And so Sam puts reason aside, and now his body and soul are in perfect accord, comfortable with his decision, comfortable with all that ensues.
But whether or not it resulted in the right outcome, was it the right decision? Or was it that dreadful Catholic sin as defined by T.S. Eliot in Murder in the Cathedral: “The ultimate treason:/To do the right thing for the wrong reason”?
While there are many areas in which I feel I can criticize Stephen Donaldson’s early writing style, one thing I value him for is the gift of sayings and pronouncements that I can argue with – not that I profoundly agree with, but which by their very irritating persuasiveness make me think deeper about an issue. Here’s one: One character observes to his main character, a leper who must face the facts of his illness at every moment in order to stay alive, “You have a great respect for facts.” “I hate facts,” the leper responds. “They’re all I’ve got.”
When I think about it, that’s exactly what Frodo feels, as he wends his way towards the Cracks of Doom. The choices are evil, the facts are evil, and he must face them constantly in order to succeed. And in making his decisions and in his actions and thoughts, he does. But Sam seemingly does not in this situation. And therefore I do not know if he has made the decision with the right outcome for the absolute “right” reason. And yet, I do view his decision as being the right one for good reason, whatever the outcome – for him.
It is my personal opinion that Sam here is recognizing his limits. That in some sense Sam feels his body and his emotions telling him that he can’t get to Orodruin without a feeling of Frodo being by his side emotionally and physically. And I think that’s true. The added wear of both the Ring and battling his emotions would end up in Quest failure sooner rather than later. Rather than take it on faith that God will lift this emotional burden from him, I think Sam is trying to face emotional and instinctual “facts” about himself and leave the ultimate outcome to faith. Of course, hoping Frodo will somehow come to life again is quite a leap of faith …
Until it isn’t. And reason returns, and with it the facts of hope.
The Death of Frodo
I want to end the discussion of Book 4 with Frodo, not Sam.
The reason is not that Frodo is my greatest hero in LOTR (or not only that). The reason is that I think that the sting of Shelob marks in some sense the death of Frodo. Because from then on, from now on, we will see inside the mind of Frodo not very much, as far as I can tell. Much less than Sam. To me, the reader, it is as if Frodo, the inner Frodo, has died to me.
And it isn’t a grand Death. It’s more like casting off from Lothlorien, and seeing Galadriel recede, present and yet remote, removing himself from individuality and beginning to pass into the freeze-frame of history. As Frodo’s unimaginable horrific and emotional experiences accumulate without his inner reaction to view, I begin to see them as if they had occurred long ago to a dead friend. Who one minute was there and the next – wasn’t. Whose remembered utterances take on the grandeur of history as well as the familiar intimacy of long affection.
And so, I ask you to humor me as I try to slip for one last time into the mind of Frodo. To watch as he fights off the vapours of Shelob, and lifts his dear friend Sam away from them. As he thrusts forward the Phial of Galadriel in defiance, then flees in fear, then, cornered, insanely attacks his attacker. As his courage and his goodness inflame the light of the Phial so that it becomes the essence of light, unbearable to the darkness, so that, against all reason, the darkness retreats. As he and Sam race to escape and win through, and find one final, impenetrable barrier, one last crafty web of the Shadow. As, with the light of the Phial held by Sam illumining his every move, he finds the key and unlocks the power that fought the great spiders of deep history, and rends that barrier utterly. As, now, fey as Feanor, he runs to the pass into Mordor, past all barriers, over the pass, down the mountainside, across the plain, to the leaping fires of Mount Doom, and then it will be over, it will be over, Oh, God, let it be over, I’m almost to the top, I can almost see the Mountain, I can almost see it, I can just see it, Oh, God, I can see it …
And then, silence.
Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings Like You’ve Never Heard It:
- The First of a Series of Ramblings About JRR Tolkien
- Part II. Pre-Psychology Writing, Poetry, and a New Hero
- Part III. Torture, Enlightenment
- Part IV. Weather, Mushrooms, Leaders
- Part V. In the Moment, Sam the Obscure
- Part VI. Folk Songs, Master, First, Fair
- Part VII. Hiking, Curses, Noble Language
- Part VIII. The Hiker’s Extrasensory Writing
- Part IX. Torture, Elves, Endings
- Part X. Your Highness
- Part XI. Business Meetings, Dwarves
- Part XII. Horns of Wild Memory
- Part XIII. Ecstasies of the Dwarves
- Part XIV. Valaraukar, the Third Touch of God
- Part XV. Memory, Nature, Passion
- Part XVI. The Gift of Enchantment
- Part XVII. Frontier Maturity
- Part XVIII. Pity, Decisions, Endings
- Part XIX. Into the Shadow, Kings, Names, Winds
- Part XX. People of the Morning, Child Soldiers
- Part XXI. Herdsmen and High Trees
- Part XXII. The Faith of God
- Part XXIII. Theoden’s Law
- Part XXIV. Helm’s Deep, Zangra, and A Life Worthy of Song
- Part XXV. Book of Marvels, Book of Friendship
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