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Dear Inklings,
We are reading The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien this month. If you’re new here, my essays for this book challenge will always be free to read, but the journaling exercises and discussions are for patrons. I also share more of my personal experiences in that section. We will be going deep and I want the space to be an intimate one. I hope you will choose to participate in our Fellowship.
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“It would comfort us to know that others fought also with all the means that they have.”
“Then be comforted,” said Elrond, “For there are other powers and realms that you know not, and they are hidden from you. […]”
“Still it might be well for all,” said Glóin the Dwarf, “if all these strengths were joined, and the powers of each were used in league.”
This passage is just one of many that expresses similar principles of every person doing what they can to push back against evil forces. It is a recurring theme in The Lord of the Rings—one of the most significant.
Frodo and his companions have made it to Rivendell, where they meet Elrond, a powerful elf lord. They also meet others who have gathered from all parts of Middle-earth, seeking Elrond’s advice. It turns out Bilbo has been having a lovely, relaxing time there after leaving Frodo behind to inherit his dangers, and the hobbits are reunited.
Elrond calls a meeting, where all the disparate pieces finally come together, and the elves, men, dwarves, and hobbits discuss what to do about Sauron and the Ring:
“What shall we do with the Ring, the least of rings, the trifle that Sauron fancies? That is the doom that we must deem.
“That is the purpose for which you are called hither. Called, I say, though I have not called you to me, strangers from distant lands. You have come and are met here, in this very nick of time, by chance as it may seem. Yet it is not so. Believe rather that it is so ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must now find counsel for the peril of the world” (emphasis mine).
We come again to the theme of fate; somehow all these different people of different races arrive at Rivendell at the same time. They each come with a few pieces of the puzzle. They are all part of a long history—one Elrond recounts in detail for the first time.
The dwarf, Glóin, had been part of Bilbo’s previous adventures detailed in The Hobbit; he comes with his son, Gimli. Legolas the elf is the son of Thranduil, the elven king who had imprisoned Glóin and the other dwarves in The Hobbit. Once again, we see the continuation of a story.1
Glóin is not the only one to wonder if they are alone in their fight against the Shadow. But as we read on, we learn more about Aragorn and Rangers, who silently guard and protect lands without any expectation of thanks. We learn about Boromir and Gondor’s constant vigil against Mordor.
The significance of this mustn’t be overlooked. Boromir is the elder son of Denethor, the steward of Gondor. He has been brought up to rule as the next steward, and he has been a strong military leader, protecting his people. Meanwhile, Aragorn is the long lost heir of Isildur, the last legitimate king of Gondor. He has lived his life in the shadow of insignificance, scorned even by the silly townspeople he silently protects.
From the (seemingly) lowly to the wise and powerful, for years—generations, even—people have been fighting with all the means they have—unseen, unthanked.
Everyone believes themselves to have been alone in their struggles. Only in this moment do they realise they never have been.
Reconciling of differences to form a fellowship
The Council of Elrond ends with Frodo volunteering to take the Ring into Mordor. The Fellowship of the Ring is formed to accompany him on his journey. Sam, of course, is the first to sign up, joined later by Gandalf, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas the Elf, Gimli the Dwarf, and finally, Merry and Pippin, whose addition I referenced in my first post.
It’s no accident that the fellowship is made up of all different races of Middle-earth, nor that two pairs are characters with long-standing enmity (Boromir and Aragorn’s rivalry, and Legolas and Gimli). It reminds me of the famous social psychology study, the Robbers Cave Experiment.2 This study found that when two groups were forced to work together toward a common goal diminished inter-group conflicts and prejudices.
The differences between members of the fellowship fade away in light of their common purpose: to bring an end to Sauron, who threatens them all.
Wrestling with despair
One of the reasons I love Lord of the Rings so much, and why I return to it time and time again, is because of it offers a buoy against seemingly inevitable hopelessness. As the free people of Middle-earth discuss how to solve the problem of the Ring in the Council of Elrond, their suggestions come to nothing. In the end, the only solution is to take the Ring into the very heart of their enemy’s land, and throw it into the mountain of fire. And yet, it is a desperate quest, one with only a “fool’s hope” of success.
Even so, Gandalf says, “Despair, or folly? It is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not.”
I want to linger here for a moment, because it is an essential point.
This is not the first time Gandalf has expressed similar sentiments. Earlier in the book, he said of Bilbo’s mercy toward Gollum, “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 judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends.”
Wisdom is knowing its own limits; no one can see all threads or how they will affect the future.
From these words, we can draw some hope. We live in troubled times, yes. The Shadow is all too pressing, too powerful, too large—not just the darkness in the world, but also our own personal Shadows.
I want to believe there is more than the darkness that threatens to consume us. That even though at times, it can feel like you are the only one who cares, the only who is fighting for the good in this world, you can believe there are others in their own corners, invisible and unacknowledged, who are fighting, too.
Finally, let’s talk a bit about Frodo’s decision to take on the responsibility of the Ring. Because yes, the crisis is a collective one, but the choices are also very individual.
Frodo has no obligation to take the Ring all the way to Mordor. He, and others who care for him, wishes he could rest with Bilbo in the shelter of Rivendell. And yet, he has also been pierced by the darkness himself, and seen through the veil, so to speak. So, though he waits in vain for someone else to speak up, though he does not even know the way to Mordor, he takes the Ring of his own free will.
Like Frodo, the responsibility to fight for a better world rests on each of us. Like him, we don’t go it alone, but we also cannot linger behind and wait for others to act.
However small our voices, however powerless we may feel, this is our world. If we do not find a way, no one will.
For next week, read to the end of The Fellowship of the Ring.
