The Lord of the Rings
by J. R. R. Tolkien
Completed December 2001
Frodo Baggins and
his friends save Middle Earth in this stirring epic tale, but it is the lessons
embedded in the telling which make Lord of the Rings such a worthwhile
book.
Over the
years, there’s been quite a debate about whether Lord of the Rings is in
some way a Christian (or other) allegory. Tolkien always denied that there was
such an allegory, and I have to agree. I think that Tolkien’s unique insight –
his ability to see our baser motivations and (perhaps) some of Christianity’s
spiritual truth – is what gives his writing the sense of allegory: it is true
to our world, though not specifically allegorical to it. As I read it, for
instance, I couldn’t help but see the analogies between our world struggling to
unify and fight terrorism, and the similar struggle of the peoples of Middle
Earth and the Fellowship. Tolkien’s insights have a timeless quality – which make
them feel allegorical, and which make his work a classic.
There are two
or three of his insights that I found particularly thought-provoking. The first
was the idea that in order to defeat an enemy, you must often give up something
you treasure to achieve unity…which you then must hope leads to victory. Galadriel
articulates this to Frodo in simple terms: if the people of Middle Earth don’t
take on the task (and risk) of destroying the Ring and fighting Mordor, she
says, they will ultimately fall to Mordor. That would make for a seemingly
simple decision. The challenge is that the status quo (to do nothing, to take
no risk) does not threaten Galadriel and the Elves in this instant (or even in
the near future). It is only in the long-term that a sacrifice today is
justified. Our war against terrorism is similar. There is little to compel
current non-combatants (say, a country like South Africa) to participate with
the US in the coalition against terror. To do so, in fact, would make South
Africa a target of terrorism in the short-term. But if most countries chose
such a path, it would likely doom all to living with terrorism. This idea is,
in many ways, also the heart of Christian spirituality: God did not have to
send his Son to suffer and die for humanity…but he did, and the result is salvation
for all of us.
Tolkien’s exploration of this idea, I thought, was elegant both in the way he structured the challenge and in the ways his characters approached and discussed the issue. Aragorn, for instance, says “One who cannot cast away a treasure at need is in fetters (p. 550).” And just before the book ends, Frodo says, quite obliquely but so powerfully in the context of all that has happened with respect to the sacrifices which our world requires: “It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them. (p. 1006).”
Another of
Tolkien’s insights, I think strikes at one of humanity’s baser characteristics –
the tendency toward division among peoples. Call it racism, bias, elitism…whatever
you will. Again, Tolkien presents it masterly: in the anger with which Gimli
confronts his first Elf; the mistrust with which Elves confront Gimli; in the
doubt that most people have for the “weak” Halflings; and then, most
importantly, in the way all of these biases and pre-dispositions are seen as
false: the Fellowship rising above the Elves mistrust; Gimli’s and Legolas’
powerful friendship; the unlikely but pivotal role of the Hobbits…and the list
goes on.
Again, Tolkien’s
writing on the topic is elegant and straight-forward. Haldir, one of the Elves
(who has exhibited bias against Gimli simply because he is a dwarf), for
instance, is quite aware of the ultimate folly of such attitudes when he says, “Folly
it may seem…. Indeed in nothing is the power of the Dark Lord more clearly
shown than in the estrangement that divides al those who still oppose him (p.
339).” There is a spiritual quality to how these biases and mistrust are set
aside in Lord of the Rings, and I can’t see that as accidental, either:
in our world I think sometimes (contemplate the Middle East with its
deep-seated hatreds) the only way past hatred is an experience of profound,
otherworldly (God’s), love. Gimli experiences it when he meets Galadriel and he
is changed forever: “And the Dwarf, hearing the names given in his own ancient tongue, looked up and met
her eyes; and it seemed to him that he looked suddenly into the heart of an
enemy and saw there love and understanding. Wonder came into his face, and then
he smiled in answer.” (p. 347).
Finally,
though, I loved Lord of the Rings for a simple quality: Tolkien captures
beautifully the power of friendship. Friendship, love, devotion, whatever we
choose to call it is what ultimately sees the people of Middle Earth through.
Early on, Merry Brandybuck articulates his version – which never wavers through
1000 pages – and that is what makes the Hobbits fun to read about: “You can
trust us to stick to you through thick and thin – to the bitter end. And you
can trust us to keep any secret of yours – closer than you keep it yourself.
But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone, and go off without a
word. We are your friends, Frodo. Anyway: there it is. We know most of what
Gandalf has told you. We know a good deal about the Ring. We are horribly
afraid – but we are coming with you; or following you like hounds. (p. 103).”