The Fellowship of the Ring

“Frodo had a very trying time that afternoon. A false rumour that the whole household was being distributed free spread like wildfire; and before long the place was packed with people who had no business there, but could not be kept out. Labels got torn off and mixed, and quarrels broke out. Some people tried to do swaps and deals in the hall; and others tried to make off with minor items not addressed to them, or with anything that seemed unwanted or unwatched.”

How the Ring comes upon the bearer is key to its range of influence. Bilbo was able to protect himself when the Ring came to him with pity, and Frodo inherits the Ring from Bilbo when the old hobbit decides to leave on a “permanent holiday.” The following day, relatives and neighbors bombard the home, clamoring over any item they can. In this setting, Frodo comes upon the Ring with a distaste for possessions. The eager crowd of hobbits exasperate him, as they vie for “minor items” and make swaps, taking Bilbo’s absence as a materialistic opportunity. Frodo, on the other hand, misses Bilbo dearly and would rather have him back than inherit his estate. His love and reverence for his cousin protects him when the Ring comes into his possession. The scene also suggests that greed, even for trivial items, exists everywhere.

“’I can hear fireside-tales and children’s stories at home, if I want to.’ ‘No doubt you can,’ retorted Sam, ‘and I daresay there’s more truth in some of them than you reckon. Who invented the stories anyway? Take dragons now.’ ‘No thank’ee,’ said Ted, ‘I won’t. I heard tell of them when I was a youngster, but there’s no call to believe in them now.’”

Sam’s love of song and lore distinguishes him as a character who values the oral tradition and the lessons they teach. When Ted Sandyman mocks him for believing in “fire-side tales,” Sam retorts that the stories hold “more truth” than Ted assumes. In an intertextual and metanarrative moment, he asks, “Who invented the stories anyway? Take dragons now.” On an intertextual level, Sam’s comment alludes to Smaug, the dragon from The Hobbit whom Bilbo helps defeat. In the world of the story, Ted’s dismissal of the existence of dragons reveals his utter ignorance. On the metalevel of Tolkien as the author of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, Sam’s comment affirms the importance of mythology and storytelling. Myths and legends express the values of a culture, and through them one can understand truths about the past as well as the present.

“But there is only one Power in this world that knows all about the Rings and their effects; and as far as I know there is no Power in the world that knows all about hobbits. Among the Wise I am the only one that goes in for hobbit-lore: an obscure branch of knowledge, but full of surprises. Soft as butter they can be, and yet sometimes as tough as old tree-roots. I think it likely that some would resist the Rings far longer than most of the Wise would believe.”

The wisest in Middle-earth, Gandalf gains knowledge in his wanderings, no matter how “obscure.” Even though he is the only one who specializes in hobbit-lore, he acknowledges that he still has much to learn. The “surprises” he discovers about the Hobbits’ unique strength teaches him to not only see beyond their appearances but also challenge the presumptions of what he thinks he already knows about them. Gandalf’s claim that only Sauron has absolute knowledge about the Rings suggests that “know[ing] all” is a metaphor for control and arrogance, and true wisdom is understanding that knowledge is never complete.

“A Ring of Power looks after itself, Frodo. It may slip off treacherously, but its keeper never abandons it. At most he plays with the idea of handing it on to someone else’s care—and that only at an early stage, when it first begins to grip.”

As a cursed and magic object, the Ring is an extension of Sauron’s will and is personified as having a “grip” and an ability to “slip off” at its own directive. Gandalf’s suggestion that the Ring “looks after itself” emphasizes its addiction-like power over the keeper, as the individual’s will diminishes to a point where the Ring possesses them. Sauron’s design is to recover the Ring, extinguish free will, and weaken all peoples to ultimate servitude. The scene illustrates that Sauron’s success depends on the corruption of others. Gandalf’s reference of “an early stage” offers hope that evil is not absolute but exists in different, surmountable degrees.

“’What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!’ ‘Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. […] Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. For even the very wise cannot see all ends.”

Gandalf admonishes Frodo for his callous view of Gollum. He insists that Pity and Mercy, capitalized as essential principles of moral virtue, allowed Bilbo to maintain his humanity as a Ring-bearer because he saw the humanity in Gollum. Gandalf also clearly distinguishes between the decency of moral virtue and the arrogance of moral authority. He adheres to the principles of right and wrong, yet he does not presume to hold power over life and death. Gandalf argues that there is no moral justification to kill, and the purpose of life and death are beyond his realm. To assume a greater knowledge would be folly.

“Do not tempt me! For I do not wish to become like the Dark Lord himself. Yet the way of the Ring to my heart is by pity, pity for weakness and the desire of strength to do good. Do not tempt me!”

Gandalf understands that despite his noble intentions, his possession of the Ring would eventually transform him into a new incarnation of Sauron. Gandalf’s refusal to accept the Ring, even to guard it, shows that he is wise to the fallacy of using evil for good, for evil only begets evil. He also suggests that evil is stronger than good in its ability to overpower even the most benevolent and altruistic desires. Thus, humanity’s battle against evil will always exist, but through vigilance and willpower, evil can be resisted and suppressed.

“I am sure you have given me all the heaviest stuff, […] I shall be as thin as a willow-wand, I’m sure, before I get to Buckland. But I was talking nonsense. I suspect you have taken more than your share, Sam, and I shall look into it at our next packing.”

The heaviness of Frodo’s pack and Sam’s shouldering of their supplies is analogous to the burden of Frodo’s daunting quest and Sam’s crucial support. Frodo imagines that he will be “thin” as a result of bearing so much weight, foreshadowing his deterioration under the Ring’s oppressive influence. His acknowledgement that Sam has taken on more than his share highlights Sam’s selfless character. Sam’s larger pack is a metaphor for his loving commitment to Frodo, to figuratively lighten his load through encouragement and affirmation. Indeed, in the upcoming volumes, Sam’s support as Frodo’s sole companion into Mordor will prevent Frodo from fading, and Sam will literally carry Frodo on his back and temporarily take on the burden as Ring-bearer.

“‘And it is also said,’ answered Frodo: ‘Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.’ ‘Is it indeed?’ laughed Gildor. ‘Elves seldom give unguarded advice, for advice is a dangerous gift, even from the wise to the wise, and all courses may run ill. […] But if you demand advice, I will for friendship’s sake give it. […] Our paths cross [hobbits and other creatures] seldom, by chance or purpose. In this meeting there may be more than chance; but the purpose is not clear to me, and I fear to say too much.’”

As wise beings of Middle-earth, the Elves, like Gandalf, accept the limitations of their knowledge. In addition to not giving advice, they also neither foretell the future nor purport to know the meaning and purpose of life. The Elves’ paradoxical counsel as “both no and yes” points to the coexistence of fate, chance, and free will. Gildor’s assessment that his encounter with the hobbits is neither fully chance nor fated emphasizes the role of free will, wherein choices determine the outcome. Throughout the novel, free will is closely identified with ethical decisions. Indeed, Gildor goes against his instincts that “all courses may run ill” and chooses to give Frodo advice “for friendship’s sake” (83). Gildor’s sense of moral responsibility to a friend motivates him to advise Frodo to seek Gandalf and not go alone, regardless of whether their meeting was destined or merely accidental.

“‘Courage is found in unlikely places,’ said Gildor. ‘Be of good hope!’”

Gildor’s message to Frodo emblematizes the novel’s optimism and highlights the archetype of the unlikely hero. Frodo and his companions are inexperienced, sheltered, and innocent at the start of their journey but find remarkable courage in themselves and each other. Their bravery is rooted in their devotion to protecting one another and in their moral obligation to destroy the Ring. Likewise, secondary characters like Fatty Bolger, Farmer Maggot, and Barliman Butterbur all take considerable risks to ensure the hobbits’ safety from the Black Riders. To outsiders, they may appear simple and clownish (an impression aided by Tolkien’s humorous names for them), yet by endowing these characters with courage, Tolkien illustrates that simple, honest folk are heroes in their own right. Gildor’s message is also an appeal to trust in others for help, and the hobbits learn to look beyond Strider’s rough exterior to see his valor.

“After all, you must remember that we know you well, and are often with you. We can usually guess what you are thinking. I knew Bilbo, too. To tell you the truth, I had been watching you rather closely ever since he left. […] We have been terrified that you might give us the slip, and go off suddenly, all on your own like he did. Ever since this spring we have kept our eyes open.”

The chapter “A Conspiracy Unmasked” uses irony to emphasize the devotion Sam, Merry, and Pippin feel for Frodo. The conspiracy turns out to be none other than the friends’ plan to keep the Ring a secret and accompany Frodo on his journey. Merry’s description of their behavior parallels Sauron’s methods, but with the complete opposite intention: Merry’s surveillance of Frodo is a watchfulness of concern and protection, a direct contrast to the Eye of Sauron, which scans with malice and vengeance. The hobbits’ intuition of Frodo’s thoughts reveals the intimacy of their bond, whereas Sauron’s and the Ring’s infiltration into Frodo’s mind is manipulative. The parallels emphasize how Frodo’s friends are the foil to Sauron and the Ring; their actions are in direct opposition to Sauron’s tactics. Spies, conspiracy, scoundrels, and deceit are all ironic terms to demonstrate the friends’ love and their willingness to counter the real foes.

“They stood for a while silent on the hill-top, near its southward edge. In that lonely place Frodo for the first time fully realized his homelessness and danger. He wished bitterly that his fortune had left him in the quiet and beloved Shire. He stared at the hateful Road, leading back westward—to his home.”

For the first time, Frodo feels genuinely lost and afraid when Aragorn leads him to Weathertop. The setting is significant in the novel, and Frodo’s fear is warranted as he will receive a wound from the Witch-king that will never fully heal. His feeling of “homelessness” indicates a turn away from his initial desires for adventure and the positive attributes of wandering. The “Road,” so often referenced with joy in the hobbits’ walking songs, is now personified as a “hateful” enemy. The moment is a bitter awakening for Frodo, as he expresses resentment and anger and wishes his “fortune” was different. His designation that fortune and not his own free will has led him to this point suggests that the Ring may already be taking hold of his sense of agency.

“It is a fair tale, though it is sad, as are all the tales of Middle-earth, and yet it may lift up your hearts.”

Aragorn recites the woeful Song of Tinúviel, a story close to his heart as it mirrors his own longing to unite with Arwen. Legolas and Gimli will likewise sing songs of sorrow, demonstrating the truth of Aragorn’s statement that “all the tales of Middle-earth” are sad. The lack of happy endings suggests that the world of Middle-earth will always face a struggle with evil, even when the Ring is destroyed. Aragorn’s statement also applies to their own tale in the making as The Fellowship of the Ring. Gandalf loses his life, and the last chapter is titled “The Breaking of the Fellowship.” Yet in songs are losses memorialized, and storytelling is a way to remember one’s history and immortalize those who have passed. Aragorn perceives this when he tells the hobbits that the tale may inspire and “lift up [their] hearts.”

“As the Power grows, its proved friends will also grow; and the Wise, such as you and I, may with patience come at last to direct its courses, to control it. We can bide our time, we can keep our thoughts in our hearts, deploring maybe evils done by the way, but approving the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends. There need not be, there would not be, any real change in our designs, only in our means.”

Unlike Gandalf, Saruman believes that the ends justify the means, and his goal of creating an ordered world with knowledge recalls the Enlightenment ideals of reason, progress, and social order. These ideals, hyperbolized as “the high and ultimate purpose,” contrast the values the protagonists place in legends, magic, and the nonsensical. Tom Bombadil is a prime example of the transcendent power of nonsense words and obscurity. Saruman’s rule relies on supplanting the fellowship’s moral conscience with a type of ethical fluidity, where evil is deplored but overlooked. Gandalf’s refusal of Saruman’s design can be interpreted as a critique not of Enlightenment itself but of the misappropriation of its values.

“‘I do not understand all this,’ he said. ‘Saruman is a traitor, but did he not have a glimpse of wisdom? Why do you speak ever of hiding and destroying? Why should we not think that the Great Ring has come into our hands to serve us in the very hour of need? Wielding it the Free Lords of the Free may surely defeat the Enemy. That is what he most fears, I deem. […] Valour needs first strength, and then a weapon. Let the Ring be your weapon, if it has such power as you say. Take it and go forth to victory!”

Boromir fails to comprehend the same valor that the protagonists uphold. He values physical strength and military might over friendship and loyalty, and sides with the traitor’s logic. Boromir’s language is also ironic; He mentions “Free” twice as a grand principle, yet he unknowingly proposes to use the very weapon that will allow him to dominate others and strip him of his agency. The scene establishes Boromir’s flawed character as he mistakes victory as something decided by weapons and not wills.

“‘Of course, my dear Bilbo,’ said Gandalf. ‘If you had really started this affair, you might be expected to finish it. But you know well enough now that starting is too great a claim for any, and that only a small part is played in great deeds by any hero. […] Finish your book, and leave the ending unaltered! There is still hope for it. But get ready to write a sequel, when they come back.’”

Bilbo offers to take the Ring to Mordor as he considers himself the cause of the dilemma. Gandalf’s response represents a larger worldview where one person or one event does not mark the start or end of a phenomenon. Older than the Elves, Gandalf implies that the present is always tied to a longer and wider history, which itself is a series of intersecting actions and consequences. His statement extends to the art of writing when he advises Bilbo to continue his book instead. Storytelling cannot claim to start out of nothing, as tales are rooted in mythology, archetypes, and the values of a culture. Gandalf continues his analogy by reminding Bilbo to keep his original “happily ever after” ending but prepare for a sequel, as the story is a continuation of the past and never completely ends.

“‘What about helping me with my book, and making a start on the next? Have you thought of an ending?’ ‘Yes, several, and all are dark and unpleasant,’ said Frodo. ‘Oh, that won’t do!’ said Bilbo. ‘Books ought to have good endings. How would this do: and they all settled down and lived together happily ever after?’”

In contrast to Aragorn’s assessment that all Middle-earth tales are sad, Bilbo suggests that his work should have a happy ending. In the end, Frodo will complete the tales that will be The Lord of the Rings, a continuation of the frame story of The Hobbit. Bilbo’s memoirs are among the many narrative layers in the novel. The primary narrator is omniscient and neutral, and the Prologue reveals that the story is a retelling of the events recorded in Bilbo’s memoirs, the Red Book of Westmarch, with its various other authors and copies in existence. The elaborate background of the Red Book as a source text mirrors the genre of mythology and fairy tales by having unknown or multiple origins and versions. Aragorn’s and Bilbo’s perspectives are both represented in the novel; The Lord of the Rings ends with a mixture of victory and sadness, reflecting that the struggles between good and evil are never fully resolved.

“Sam eased the pack on his shoulders, and went over anxiously in his mind all the things that he had stowed in it, wondering if he had forgotten anything: his chief treasure, his cooking gear; and the little box of salt that he always carried and refilled when he could; a good supply of pipe-weed (but not near enough, I’ll warrant); flint and tinder; woollen hose; linen; various small belongings of his master’s that Frodo had forgotten and Sam had stowed to bring the out in triumph when they were called for. He went through them all.”

The items in Sam’s pack symbolize all the things he values from his life in the Shire. Though they seem impractical and foolish, Sam’s items are tokens of Hobbit identity: well-seasoned food, pipe-weed, organic materials, and the unnamed niceties that surprise and delight. Despite its weight, the load is worth bearing. Sam’s pack holds the memories of home and comfort, and the items reveal his concern for Frodo’s emotional well-being. In Frodo’s direst moments, Sam’s love and support sustain him.

“‘I do call it the wind,’ said Aragorn. ‘But that does not make what you say untrue. There are many evil and unfriendly things in the world that have little love for those that go on two legs, and yet are not in league with Sauron, but have purposes of their own. Some have been in this world longer than he.’”

Both Aragorn and Gimli believe that their obstruction at Caradhras is a force that predates Sauron. The presence of foes before the Dark Lord reinforces the idea that good and evil are cyclical elements throughout history. That the force is from the mountain itself emphasizes the primordial power of nature and its clash with Men and Dwarves. The fellowship retreats, accepting defeat from Caradhras more willingly than they would from Sauron. Their descent is a symbolic acknowledgement of the errors of their ancestors and a reverence and responsibility to leave the mountain in peace.

“But now his thoughts had been carried away from the dark Mines, to Rivendell, to Bilbo, and to Bag End in the days while Bilbo was still there. He wished with all his heart that he was back there, and in those days, mowing the lawn, or pottering among the flowers, and that he had never heard of Moria, or mithril—or the Ring.”

Similar to his moment at Weathertop, in Moria Frodo experiences homesickness and regret at his journey. At first, Frodo felt prepared to leave the Shire behind to protect it. Here, his homesickness overpowers his initial sense of determination and purpose, and he wishes he had remained in blissful ignorance. The scene highlights Frodo’s sense of dejection, but it also emphasizes his disdain for these great objects of desire, mithril and the Ring, that have led to the downfall of Dwarves and Men. Frodo essentially protects himself from the Ring’s lure by rejecting instead of relishing the object of power.

“Some there are among us who sing that the Shadow will draw back, and peace shall come again. Yet I do not believe that the world about us will ever be as it was of old, or the light of the Sun as it was aforetime. For the Elves, I fear, it will prove at best a truce, in which they may pass to the Sea unhindered and leave the Middle-earth for ever. Alas for Lothlórien that I love! It would be a poor life in a land where no mallorn grew.”

Haldir acknowledges that with Sauron’s defeat, the world will still experience a sense of loss. The destruction of the One Ring entails the waning of the Elven Rings and the Elves’ return to their home across the Sea in Valinor. The Elves represent the complex negotiations of home and exile, as many of them have adapted to life in Middle-earth. Though they long for Valinor, some like Haldir express deep sorrow at leaving Lórien, the adopted homeland. Haldir associates home with the golden trees of Lórien, a fitting symbol since their quarters are high in the tree boughs, and the tree roots symbolize a connection deeply embedded in the land. For the Elves, home is a mixture of geographical origins and emotional identification. All the Elves are characterized as having a type of exilic melancholy, as they feel a sense of loss in both Valinor and Middle-earth. For Haldir, even though he is returning home, he is leaving another home behind.

“But I count you blessed, Gimli son of Glóin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions, and the least reward that you shall have is that the memory of Lothlórien shall remain ever clear and unstained in your heart, and shall neither fade nor grow stale.”

Gimli, as with all the members of the fellowship, was given the choice to stay in Lórien or continue on the quest. He chooses to leave Lórien, but he also acknowledges the pain of departing such a fair and beautiful realm. Legolas in many ways shares Haldir’s love for Lórien and is aware that the Elves have no choice in leaving Middle-earth forever after Sauron’s defeat. In his assurance to Gimli that his memories of Lórien will never fade, he is effectively telling himself this as well. Legolas conceptualizes home as a feeling of deep and permanent connection.

“‘Nay, time does not tarry ever,’ he said; ‘but change and growth is not in all things and places alike. For the Elves the world moves, and it moves both very swift and very slow. Swift, because they themselves change little, and all else fleets by: it is a grief to them. Slow, because they do not count the running years, not for themselves. The passing seasons are but ripples ever repeated in the long long stream. Yet beneath the Sun all things must wear to an end at last.’”

Another source of the Elves’ melancholy is their immortality and the experience of being both a part of time’s events and removed from them. The Elves are the highest beings in Middle-earth, epitomizing goodness and wisdom. Yet they are also perceived as aloof, having little involvement with other peoples. Gildor and Haldir have mentioned that Elves rarely interact with other peoples, and in this excerpt, Legolas offers an explanation that their relationship with time alters their experience with significant moments. For mortals, their time on earth is important in defining their identity and purpose because they have a limited existence. The Elves follow a different logic since they “change little” while everything else around them undergoes dynamic transformations, even the seasons. The Elves seem more like observers of the world than participants, and this disconnected state brings them sorrow.

“True-hearted Men, they will not be corrupted. We of Minas Tirith have been staunch through long years of trial. We do not desire the power of wizard-lords, only strength to defend ourselves, strength in a just cause. And behold! In our need chance brings to light the Ring of Power. It is a gift, I say; a gift to the foes of Mordor. It is mad not to use it, to use the power of the Enemy against him. The fearless, the ruthless, these alone will achieve victory.”

Boromir’s defense for using the Ring is rooted in his genuine belief that Men will not abuse its power. His reference to the “long years of trial” establishes Gondor’s commitment to justice but also expresses a frustration that they must continue to struggle when the “gift” of the Ring can save them. Boromir holds a mixture of optimism and arrogance in his faith in Men, a faith that seemingly only he holds. Elrond and Saruman are on opposing sides of the war, but both agree that Men have declined in greatness. In this context, Boromir’s speech expresses a desire to redeem Men, and though he succumbs to the Ring’s temptation at the end of The Fellowship of the Ring, he redeems himself in The Two Towers.