“This, then, is my counsel. We have not the Ring. In wisdom or great folly it has been sent away to be destroyed, lest it destroy us. Without it we cannot by force defeat his force…We cannot achieve victory by arms…”[1]
Tolkien lived through one of the most violent eras there ever was. Two World Wars passed in his time, one of which he was personally a part of. He came to realize, rather than was born into, a world where wars that spanned the globe, chemical warfare, the hateful march of the Nazis, the devastation of the atomic bomb, the extreme mechanization of violence. And this full-scale scope of violence, and the terror that it must invoke, is portrayed vividly in his writing, namely the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which while we know is not allegorical, is most certainly applicable, to the World Wars which Tolkien’s generation saw.
The above quotation is the word of Gandalf in the chapter entitled “The Last Debate.” Sauron’s forces, attacking Minas Tirith, have been defeated on the Pelennor Fields, and now the leaders of the “good guys” are debating what to do next. Now, I have purposely left out certain statements not because I want to twist Tolkien’s words, but rather to highlight a concept which I think is strong but subtle in his writing. Statements such as in the last sentence, where Gandalf adds that “but by arms we can give the Ring-bearer his only chance, frail though it may be.” Obviously Gandalf is making the point that there is no force of arms strong enough to defeat Sauron. Tolkien is not making a statement against violence; he simply stating that their violence is not strong enough to overpower Sauron’s violence.
Or is he?
Auden rightly uses this passage in his excellent study to show that the tact of Good in Tolkien’s war is – and indeed, must – be different from the tact of the Enemy.[2] And the Ring, as a symbol, is central to this. Gandalf does make the point in said passage that “Without [the Ring] we cannot by force defeat his force,” but he says immediately proceeding, “In wisdom or great folly it has been sent away to be destroyed lest it destroys us” (emp. mine). To go beyond Auden, who is examining Tolkien’s expression of the conflict of Good and Evil, I would like to speculate on Tolkien’s view of violence, and make two points: that Frodo’s deed is an act of anti-violence (not exactly non-violence), which is the true hope of the entire story (which Gandalf himself points out in said passage), and that Tolkien sees the use of violence (I think symbolized by the Ring, which is a device used to control and dominate “wills others than one’s own,” which is perhaps always what violence is used for) as evil, if albeit a necessary one.
We must have as our center Frodo, the little “hero,” quite unlike the mythic archetypal Hero, of a small folk, a little timid (though certainly not weak, as he is sometimes portrayed) and certainly daunted by this terrible task which he has chosen (or has been laid upon him – choice, chance, and fate being another interesting study of paradox within the Tolkienian canon). If we follow Frodo’s journey through the entire story, we find an interesting progression. At the beginning, when Frodo first hears that the secret of the Ring has been compromised to the Enemy by the admission of Gollum, he bemoans the fact that Bilbo did not kill Gollum to begin with.
“What a pity 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 needed.”
Gandalf then explains that because Bilbo began his journey with the Ring with such an act of Pity, or Mercy, he was able to resist the great power of the Ring for a long time, resilient beyond any creature Gandalf knows of.[3] This is not the full extent of Frodo’s violent capabilities (which are by no means even average, being the even-tempered Hobbit that he is): in the Barrow Downs he makes to wound a Wight and does the same to a Nazgul later at Amon Sul, and in Moria stabs a Troll. However, at some point Frodo begins to make a turn. He won’t kill Gollum, citing the same pity which stayed Bilbo, and continues to show mercy to Gollum throughout the story. But perhaps more amazing, as they trek through Mordor, Frodo suddenly throws down his sword, an Orc blade he has taken up, declaring, “There, I’ll be an orc no more…and I’ll bear no weapon, fair or foul. Let them take me if they will!”[4] By the time Frodo gets back to the Shire, his abhorrence of violence is nearly complete. He will not take part in the fighting, even though Merry and Pippin are as gung-ho as one could want, and actually resists their inclinations several times, to the disdain of Merry (who has been quite influenced by his Rohirrim friends). While the others fight, he takes care of the wounded and tries to keep Hobbits from unnecessarily killing prisoners and other Hobbits, and later will not allow Saruman to be killed (perhaps in part taking this que from Gandalf, who shows mercy to Saruman twice, although Frodo only sees the second encounter). In the end, the violence which Frodo “agrees” to is almost a sigh of defeat: “All the same…I wish for no killing, not even of the ruffians, unless it must be done, to prevent them hurting hobbits.”[5]
What has happened to this hobbit? If there is anyone who has seen the “need” of violence used as a means to an end, it is Frodo, yet he hardly has the stomach for it. And this cannot be attributed to a lack of courage. Frodo, it has already been soundly proved, is no coward. Yet he won’t fight. Now we cannot imagine that Tolkien is just going with the artistic flow here. Tolkien was a craftsman of words, and was more capable perhaps than anyone else in the world at his time of being able to use the English language to say exactly what he wanted to say. And again, it must be pointed out that he was a WWI veteran, had witnessed the death of several of his closest friends, and had seen real violence up close in a way most of us cannot imagine. Whatever Tolkien said about violence through Frodo is indeed, I would contend, well-planned and significant. But before we draw any conclusions, we must look at two more points: Frodo as a symbol of Peace and the Ring as a symbol (at least in part) of violence and domination.
For this first point, as I have yet no proper training in Norse mythology, I must rely heavily on Tom Shippey’s splendid analysis in J. R. R. Tolkien: Author of the Century, who examines Frodo as an arcane mythic symbol (the arcane being significant).[6] “The question is, what sort of name is Frodo – the one name out of all the prominent hobbit characters in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings which Tolkien does not mention or discuss?”[7] Frodo, beyond being most likely derived from frothi, the Old Norse word for “wise” or “the wise one”, in Shippey’s estimation comes from a Nordic myth about the father of the Norse hero Ingeld. Ingeld, a true Hero archetype shinning with Mythic power, is committed to vengeance and violence. Frothi, his father, on the other hand, was before his downfall a harbinger of peace. “The peace of Frothi” refers to a golden age, supposedly concurrent with the time of Christ, where the king Frothi maintained absolute peace in his realm, and as far as I can glean, without violence (sort of; the peace was “ground out” from a magic mill by a giantess who eventually revolts because Frothi will not allow her rest). But the point is that the myth of Frothi, not well-remembered compared to the heroic advent of his son Ingeld, is one which echoes of peace. This mimesis seems apparent. Frodo, indeed, seems to be a “peacemaker,” and does so with an act of anti-violence, which will now be discussed.
The Ring certainly represents in some respect violence and willful domination, which is in my estimation, the ultimate manifestation of violence. Sauron created it as an agent which would allow him to control the minds, designs, and wills of all those who also wore the magic rings and so gain domination of Middle-earth. Everywhere the Ring goes, violence follows, a manifestation of its evil. Isildur is betrayed to his death. Sméagol murders Déagol to obtain it (which, remembering that Sméagol is a kind of hobbit, is very significant). Boromir tries to take it by force. Those who wish to use it for “good” wish to use it for violence – to overthrow Sauron. Saruman, who wants to obtain it, wishes to do so in order to replace the Dark Lord with his own overlordship. The Dark Lord himself wishes to regain it so that his power (which he gave to make it) will be complete and he can rule Middle-earth without challenge, making use of violence and slavery and torture in his dark rule, as he learned from his master. I could go on, but this is a blog, and I really am (believe it or not) shooting for brevity.
And so, to resist the Enemy, one cannot use the Ring against him. It is evil, it creates violence. Fire cannot be used to fight fire. Rather, the Ring, and so the Evil bound about it and contained within it, must be “unmade,” destroyed. And how will it be done? Will an army force their way into the Black Lands and cast it into the fire? No. It will be brought by Frodo (with the magnificent support of dear Sam Gamgee), a small hobbit who makes peace not by the sword but by an act of sacrifice given willingly for all those in grave danger of the violence which the Enemy threatens. This quest, an anti-quest really, not meant to find something but to be rid of something, is to destroy a symbol of evil and violence. And it is done not by violence (which would be trying to fight fire with fire, force by force – useless, I think, in Tolkien’s estimation) but by anti-violence. The real heroes are those who sacrifice themselves outside of the war, doing away with the ultimate instrument of war. Again, I could go on.
I could be and maybe am reading far too much into it (a valid, if not easy, critique). As a pacifist, I do not pretend not to have my biases. However, I think it is plausible that Tolkien was nearly there as well, but could not be. I think Frodo was very much an expression of some side of himself: one that abhorred violence and yet could not help but see the necessity of it (perhaps because he had never been shown any alternative?), and yet considered even this concession a defeat. Tolkien was, after all, a Christian, and one of Christianity’s most distinguishing points is that the “Great War” is won by an act of anti-violence, of non-violence, through the sacrificial death of Jesus of Nazareth. And Tolkien had seen the terrible things of war and violence firsthand. I am reminded of Bonhoeffer, a contemporary, who struggled with the same question, so applicable in that time (and ours as well, but perhaps less pressing): what are we to do with violence in the face of Evil when we have a gospel that calls us to make Peace? Tolkien’s best answer, I think, was Frodo and his anti-quest. And I believe that is a powerful distinction from others of his era (indeed, for all the admiration I have for Lewis, I still find his essay “Why I Am Not a Pacifist” rather distasteful and incredulous in argumentation). By no means am I suggesting that Tolkien went all the way to pacifism – I don’t think he could have. But I am suggesting that Tolkien did not, perhaps, view violence as the end or even a proper means, but an evil one that sometimes was necessary. And even this, I think, he viewed as a defeat.
This is a rather incomplete post/study. There is much to be asked, much to be examined, much to be said, and I am as of yet no literary or Tolkien scholar. I do not pretend to say anything definitive. And maybe Tolkien did not have so precisely a thought out view as I’m suggesting. But then again, Tolkien is of the most precise and exacting writers I know of. And I think the question of violence in Frodo and The Lord of the Rings is a valid one, and one that should be addressed. I believe that Tolkien had something to say on the subject, and it is something we might consider in the future.
Tolkien lived through one of the most violent eras there ever was. Two World Wars passed in his time, one of which he was personally a part of. He came to realize, rather than was born into, a world where wars that spanned the globe, chemical warfare, the hateful march of the Nazis, the devastation of the atomic bomb, the extreme mechanization of violence. And this full-scale scope of violence, and the terror that it must invoke, is portrayed vividly in his writing, namely the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which while we know is not allegorical, is most certainly applicable, to the World Wars which Tolkien’s generation saw.
The above quotation is the word of Gandalf in the chapter entitled “The Last Debate.” Sauron’s forces, attacking Minas Tirith, have been defeated on the Pelennor Fields, and now the leaders of the “good guys” are debating what to do next. Now, I have purposely left out certain statements not because I want to twist Tolkien’s words, but rather to highlight a concept which I think is strong but subtle in his writing. Statements such as in the last sentence, where Gandalf adds that “but by arms we can give the Ring-bearer his only chance, frail though it may be.” Obviously Gandalf is making the point that there is no force of arms strong enough to defeat Sauron. Tolkien is not making a statement against violence; he simply stating that their violence is not strong enough to overpower Sauron’s violence.
Or is he?
Auden rightly uses this passage in his excellent study to show that the tact of Good in Tolkien’s war is – and indeed, must – be different from the tact of the Enemy.[2] And the Ring, as a symbol, is central to this. Gandalf does make the point in said passage that “Without [the Ring] we cannot by force defeat his force,” but he says immediately proceeding, “In wisdom or great folly it has been sent away to be destroyed lest it destroys us” (emp. mine). To go beyond Auden, who is examining Tolkien’s expression of the conflict of Good and Evil, I would like to speculate on Tolkien’s view of violence, and make two points: that Frodo’s deed is an act of anti-violence (not exactly non-violence), which is the true hope of the entire story (which Gandalf himself points out in said passage), and that Tolkien sees the use of violence (I think symbolized by the Ring, which is a device used to control and dominate “wills others than one’s own,” which is perhaps always what violence is used for) as evil, if albeit a necessary one.
We must have as our center Frodo, the little “hero,” quite unlike the mythic archetypal Hero, of a small folk, a little timid (though certainly not weak, as he is sometimes portrayed) and certainly daunted by this terrible task which he has chosen (or has been laid upon him – choice, chance, and fate being another interesting study of paradox within the Tolkienian canon). If we follow Frodo’s journey through the entire story, we find an interesting progression. At the beginning, when Frodo first hears that the secret of the Ring has been compromised to the Enemy by the admission of Gollum, he bemoans the fact that Bilbo did not kill Gollum to begin with.
“What a pity 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 needed.”
Gandalf then explains that because Bilbo began his journey with the Ring with such an act of Pity, or Mercy, he was able to resist the great power of the Ring for a long time, resilient beyond any creature Gandalf knows of.[3] This is not the full extent of Frodo’s violent capabilities (which are by no means even average, being the even-tempered Hobbit that he is): in the Barrow Downs he makes to wound a Wight and does the same to a Nazgul later at Amon Sul, and in Moria stabs a Troll. However, at some point Frodo begins to make a turn. He won’t kill Gollum, citing the same pity which stayed Bilbo, and continues to show mercy to Gollum throughout the story. But perhaps more amazing, as they trek through Mordor, Frodo suddenly throws down his sword, an Orc blade he has taken up, declaring, “There, I’ll be an orc no more…and I’ll bear no weapon, fair or foul. Let them take me if they will!”[4] By the time Frodo gets back to the Shire, his abhorrence of violence is nearly complete. He will not take part in the fighting, even though Merry and Pippin are as gung-ho as one could want, and actually resists their inclinations several times, to the disdain of Merry (who has been quite influenced by his Rohirrim friends). While the others fight, he takes care of the wounded and tries to keep Hobbits from unnecessarily killing prisoners and other Hobbits, and later will not allow Saruman to be killed (perhaps in part taking this que from Gandalf, who shows mercy to Saruman twice, although Frodo only sees the second encounter). In the end, the violence which Frodo “agrees” to is almost a sigh of defeat: “All the same…I wish for no killing, not even of the ruffians, unless it must be done, to prevent them hurting hobbits.”[5]
What has happened to this hobbit? If there is anyone who has seen the “need” of violence used as a means to an end, it is Frodo, yet he hardly has the stomach for it. And this cannot be attributed to a lack of courage. Frodo, it has already been soundly proved, is no coward. Yet he won’t fight. Now we cannot imagine that Tolkien is just going with the artistic flow here. Tolkien was a craftsman of words, and was more capable perhaps than anyone else in the world at his time of being able to use the English language to say exactly what he wanted to say. And again, it must be pointed out that he was a WWI veteran, had witnessed the death of several of his closest friends, and had seen real violence up close in a way most of us cannot imagine. Whatever Tolkien said about violence through Frodo is indeed, I would contend, well-planned and significant. But before we draw any conclusions, we must look at two more points: Frodo as a symbol of Peace and the Ring as a symbol (at least in part) of violence and domination.
For this first point, as I have yet no proper training in Norse mythology, I must rely heavily on Tom Shippey’s splendid analysis in J. R. R. Tolkien: Author of the Century, who examines Frodo as an arcane mythic symbol (the arcane being significant).[6] “The question is, what sort of name is Frodo – the one name out of all the prominent hobbit characters in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings which Tolkien does not mention or discuss?”[7] Frodo, beyond being most likely derived from frothi, the Old Norse word for “wise” or “the wise one”, in Shippey’s estimation comes from a Nordic myth about the father of the Norse hero Ingeld. Ingeld, a true Hero archetype shinning with Mythic power, is committed to vengeance and violence. Frothi, his father, on the other hand, was before his downfall a harbinger of peace. “The peace of Frothi” refers to a golden age, supposedly concurrent with the time of Christ, where the king Frothi maintained absolute peace in his realm, and as far as I can glean, without violence (sort of; the peace was “ground out” from a magic mill by a giantess who eventually revolts because Frothi will not allow her rest). But the point is that the myth of Frothi, not well-remembered compared to the heroic advent of his son Ingeld, is one which echoes of peace. This mimesis seems apparent. Frodo, indeed, seems to be a “peacemaker,” and does so with an act of anti-violence, which will now be discussed.
The Ring certainly represents in some respect violence and willful domination, which is in my estimation, the ultimate manifestation of violence. Sauron created it as an agent which would allow him to control the minds, designs, and wills of all those who also wore the magic rings and so gain domination of Middle-earth. Everywhere the Ring goes, violence follows, a manifestation of its evil. Isildur is betrayed to his death. Sméagol murders Déagol to obtain it (which, remembering that Sméagol is a kind of hobbit, is very significant). Boromir tries to take it by force. Those who wish to use it for “good” wish to use it for violence – to overthrow Sauron. Saruman, who wants to obtain it, wishes to do so in order to replace the Dark Lord with his own overlordship. The Dark Lord himself wishes to regain it so that his power (which he gave to make it) will be complete and he can rule Middle-earth without challenge, making use of violence and slavery and torture in his dark rule, as he learned from his master. I could go on, but this is a blog, and I really am (believe it or not) shooting for brevity.
And so, to resist the Enemy, one cannot use the Ring against him. It is evil, it creates violence. Fire cannot be used to fight fire. Rather, the Ring, and so the Evil bound about it and contained within it, must be “unmade,” destroyed. And how will it be done? Will an army force their way into the Black Lands and cast it into the fire? No. It will be brought by Frodo (with the magnificent support of dear Sam Gamgee), a small hobbit who makes peace not by the sword but by an act of sacrifice given willingly for all those in grave danger of the violence which the Enemy threatens. This quest, an anti-quest really, not meant to find something but to be rid of something, is to destroy a symbol of evil and violence. And it is done not by violence (which would be trying to fight fire with fire, force by force – useless, I think, in Tolkien’s estimation) but by anti-violence. The real heroes are those who sacrifice themselves outside of the war, doing away with the ultimate instrument of war. Again, I could go on.
I could be and maybe am reading far too much into it (a valid, if not easy, critique). As a pacifist, I do not pretend not to have my biases. However, I think it is plausible that Tolkien was nearly there as well, but could not be. I think Frodo was very much an expression of some side of himself: one that abhorred violence and yet could not help but see the necessity of it (perhaps because he had never been shown any alternative?), and yet considered even this concession a defeat. Tolkien was, after all, a Christian, and one of Christianity’s most distinguishing points is that the “Great War” is won by an act of anti-violence, of non-violence, through the sacrificial death of Jesus of Nazareth. And Tolkien had seen the terrible things of war and violence firsthand. I am reminded of Bonhoeffer, a contemporary, who struggled with the same question, so applicable in that time (and ours as well, but perhaps less pressing): what are we to do with violence in the face of Evil when we have a gospel that calls us to make Peace? Tolkien’s best answer, I think, was Frodo and his anti-quest. And I believe that is a powerful distinction from others of his era (indeed, for all the admiration I have for Lewis, I still find his essay “Why I Am Not a Pacifist” rather distasteful and incredulous in argumentation). By no means am I suggesting that Tolkien went all the way to pacifism – I don’t think he could have. But I am suggesting that Tolkien did not, perhaps, view violence as the end or even a proper means, but an evil one that sometimes was necessary. And even this, I think, he viewed as a defeat.
This is a rather incomplete post/study. There is much to be asked, much to be examined, much to be said, and I am as of yet no literary or Tolkien scholar. I do not pretend to say anything definitive. And maybe Tolkien did not have so precisely a thought out view as I’m suggesting. But then again, Tolkien is of the most precise and exacting writers I know of. And I think the question of violence in Frodo and The Lord of the Rings is a valid one, and one that should be addressed. I believe that Tolkien had something to say on the subject, and it is something we might consider in the future.
It is has long been one of my favorite lines from all of Tolkien when Frodo says to Sam, who laments that Frodo is to leave the Grey Havens never to return: “I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. 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.”[8] This is, I think, the center of Frodo’s quest. Sacrifice for others. Frodo is the great tragic hero, who would hardly be remembered, and yet it was his great quest, his great sacrifice, not as memorable in the common consciousness as the great deeds of Merry and Pippen in the Shire[9] or Aragorn or Gandalf or all other Heroes, that would save the Shire and the day. Frodo is a Hero of a different kind.
[1] LotR 862. All quotations and page numbers from The Lord of the Rings are from the Houghton Mifflin One Volume Edition.
[2] W. H. Auden, “The Quest Hero,” Understanding the Lord of the Rings (eds. Isaacs, Neil D. and Rose A. Zimbardo, New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2004), 31-51. It is also significant that, while Auden does not deal with this (the material was not yet available), the war against Morgoth in the First Age was not won by the violence of the Elves and Men either. Rather, it was an act of intercession by Eärendil, the great Mariner.
[3] LotR, 54; Gandalf remarks that Bilbo is the only person he knows of ever to have given up the Ring of his own accord.
[4] LotR, 916.
[5] LotR, 986-987.
[6] Tom Shippey, J. R. R. Tolkien: Author of the Century (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2000), 182-187.
[7] Shippey, 183.
[8] LotR, 1006.
[9] LotR, 992-993.
5 comments:
Hi Alex. This is a good, thoughtful post overall. Some reactions ...
I think your basic ideas are pretty sound, but in some cases they could benefit from further thought and clarification. For example, you attempt to contrast “anti-violence” with “non-violence”, without really explaining what you mean by either term. Also, you ask “[w]hat has happened to this hobbit [Frodo]?” But don’t all Hobbits naturally lean toward peaceful ways? Remember the Prologue, where Tolkien tells us: “At no time had Hobbits of any kind been warlike, and they had never fought among themselves. In olden days they had, of course, been often obliged to fight to maintain themselves in a hard world; but in Bilbo’s time that was very ancient history. The last battle, before this story opens, and indeed the only one that had ever been fought within the borders of the Shire, was beyond living memory [...].” To some extent, then, isn’t Frodo’s move toward pacifism more of a natural return to more Hobbit-like ways after having been forced to act very differently from the typical Hobbit for the preceding year?
You say, quite correctly, that “[t]wo World Wars passed in his time, one of which he was personally a part of.” Although he wasn’t personally involved in WWII, don’t forget that his sons Michael and Christopher were. See Letters #40, #42, #45, #52, inter alia. In #45, Tolkien writes that “One War is enough for any man,” which you might be able to use to reinforce your thesis.
You buttressed your argument with a nice quotation in “I’ll bear no weapon fair or foul,” but you could make the point with an earlier statement. At the end of the previous chapter, Frodo says “I do not think it will be my part to strike any blow again.”
You say “Fire cannot be used to fight fire,” which is, in the main, true, but the metaphor loses some of its punch when you recall the confrontation between Gandalf and the Balrog — which is very much a case of fight fighting fire. ;)
I found your reference to Dietrich Bonhoeffer interesting. Wasn’t he part of a plot to assassinate Hitler? If that’s true, it would seem to contradict your point a little, but if you highlight the fact of his struggle with the question of violence, then I think you’d be back on track. This is similar to what you say about Lewis. It’s a thorny issue, to be sure.
If you feel like expanding your study, there are some other things I think you should consider. For example, what about Tolkien’s attitudes on violence against trees? He called the petrol-driven chain saw “one of the greatest horrors of our age” — coming from someone who saw the horrors or war first-hand, that’s saying a lot! On a different note, while you’re right to point out some of Tolkien’s more peaceful leanings, what about the rather disrespectful body count contest between Legolas and Gimli at Helm’s Deep? It seems always acceptable to kill orcs, doesn’t it? That isn’t really a pacifist attitude, though, is it?
And finally, it’s great to see that you’ve read Shippey. More to the point of your thesis for this post, I would recommend John Garth’s Tolkien and the Great War. Required reading as a starting point for such ruminations. (And if you get further, I can recommend some other articles and books.)
Alex,
I'm glad to finally have the correct blog site even if I have no idea what you are talking about!
I miss ya, man. We should talk soon.
Alex,
You are insightful. I am not. I guess what I think you were trying to do was say that Tolkien was attempting to portray either himself or a 'proper' view of violence through Frodo. Neat idea.
have a good break.
Andy, I miss you too, and yes, we should talk soon.
Dave, you are too insightful, and don’t say otherwise.
Jason, thank you for taking the time to give some really good reactions to the post. I don’t know nearly as much as you about Tolkien, and you are really helpful to me in clarifying and correcting my thoughts. I would like some more articles and books about this, definitely. Is this a popular subject among Tolkien scholars?
A few responses to some of your reactions (and I wish I knew how to do italics with this thing!):
Jason says: To some extent, then, isn’t Frodo’s move toward pacifism more of a natural return to more Hobbit-like ways after having been forced to act very differently from the typical Hobbit for the preceding year?
Alex says: Sure, I would agree with that. But I still think that it is important to note that Frodo’s original reaction to the news of Gollum was to wish death upon him. I think that while a Hobbit’s nature may be more inclined to peace, violence is still probably the natural reaction to threatening situations – even for a Hobbit (Sam, Pippen, and Merry could all be used as cases in point), and thus Frodo’s shift towards a non-violent lifestyle is still very interesting, remarkable, and stirring.
Thanks for the tip about Tolkien’s sons. And the quote. I knew of that quote – I don’t know why I forgot to use it!
Jason says: I found your reference to Dietrich Bonhoeffer interesting. Wasn’t he part of a plot to assassinate Hitler? If that’s true, it would seem to contradict your point a little, but if you highlight the fact of his struggle with the question of violence, then I think you’d be back on track.
Alex says: Bonhoeffer was indeed a part of an assassination attempt – he was a courier. I thought your critique was interesting because what I actually say about Bonhoeffer is a mention of his “stuggle” – I even use that same word. Bonhoeffer did stuggle with this question, and that is the parallel I was trying to make. In the end, Bonhoeffer (in line with all the advice given him) decided to go ahead with his part in the plot, although he concluded that it was probably sinful (I’m not coming up with the reference at this moment, but I can get it easily if you want later – it’s late). I see the correlation between him and Tolkien because while they seemed to have pacifistic leanings (Bonhoeffer more explicitly; Tolkien, if I am correct, quite implicitly), both of them ultimately decided that violence was necessary.
Jason says: On a different note, while you’re right to point out some of Tolkien’s more peaceful leanings, what about the rather disrespectful body count contest between Legolas and Gimli at Helm’s Deep? It seems always acceptable to kill orcs, doesn’t it? That isn’t really a pacifist attitude, though, is it?
Alex says: Yeah, these are good critiques, and I don’t know that I have a satisfactory answer as of yet. With regards to Orcs, there are so many questions which trouble me about them philosophically and theologically (although they are really a brilliant piece of theology concerning the creative ability of Evil) that I don’t know when I’ll sort that out. With regards to Legolas and Gimli’s “contest,” I would like to just mention two things: (1) Tolkien is a writer, and both you and I know as writers that not every character does what you think is right – they do what they would do as characters; so while the body count is there, it does not follow necessarily that Tolkien agreed with it; (2) I would concede that Tolkien was not actually a pacifist and probably could not conceive of fully adopting this position. These are certainly weak points in my study, but I think I was trying to portray Frodo as the ideal in Tolkien’s thought. I mean, he did turn the Hero concept upside down, did he not – both literarily and mythically? And he would’ve known better than anyone that that was exactly what he was doing.
And by the way, how do you view the Orcs? What do you think are the issues we must deal with in examining them today? All the fantasy I read these days either has an Orc with a conscience (thus, making them more human and easier to identify with) or does away with them. I can’t think of any story (and I have by no means read them all) that does what Tolkien did with them when he created them: that is, make them just a race of evil and, as you aptly pointed out, make it okay to kill them. Do you think this is literarily plausible in our times? Do you think Tolkien considered these issues? I would love to know what you thought.
All in all, I really appreciate you stopping by and hope you do so more. I enjoy your blog a lot, and really appreciate your posts and your extensive knowledge of Tolkien. I look forward to more dialogue about him as I become more “aware” of him and the beautiful ages he created.
I would like some more articles and books about this, definitely. Is this a popular subject among Tolkien scholars?
I’d say it’s a somewhat popular topic, but there’s certainly more work to be done. Including Garth (whom I mentioned before), here are some references for you to look into (just a sampling, prepared quickly, and not intended to be exhaustive):
Brogan, Hugh. “Tolkien’s Great War.” In Children and Their Books: A Celebration of the Work of Iona and Peter Opie. Ed. Gillian A. Avery and Julia Briggs. Oxford: Clarendon, 1989: 351-67.
Buck, Claire. “War.” In Drout: 699–700.
Croft, Janet Brennan. War and the Works of J.R.R. Tolkien. Westport (CT): Praeger, 2004.
Drout, Michael D.C. The J.R.R. Tolkien Encyclopedia: Scholarship and Critical Assessment. New York: Routledge, 2007.
Garth, John. Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle-earth. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2003.
———. “Frodo and the Great War.” In The Lord of the Rings 1954-2004: Scholarship in Honor of Richard E. Blackwelder. Ed. Wayne G. Hammond and Christina Scull. Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 2006.
———. “World War I.” In Drout: 712–15.
Hooker, Mark. “Frodo’s Batman.” Tolkien Studies 1 (2004): 125–36.
Scott, Nan C. “War and Pacifism in The Lord of the Rings.” Mythlore 15 (1972): 23-25.
Vaccaro, Christopher. “Violence.” In Drout: 694–5.
The piece by Nan Scott would be especially à propos of your topic, if you can lay hands on it. I don’t have it, but according to Judith Johnson (from J.R.R. Tolkien: Six Decades of Criticism), it “[a]rgues that Tolkien glorifies neither militarism nor pacifism, but presents the complex moral dilemma of human (and hobbit) life. Whether force is met with force or restraint, some creatures will be unable to continue as before. Points to the four acts of mercy which ultimately defeated Sauron.”
And by the way, how do you view the Orcs? What do you think are the issues we must deal with in examining them today?
Ah, this is quite a Pandora’s Box! Are they “fallen” Elves? Elves “corrupted” — and if so, what about free will? Are they redeemable? If not, why not? If they are (or were) Elves, then are they “immortal”? Can they be reincarnated? Do they go to the Halls of Mandos? Why would Ilúvatar allow any of this? Are there Orc women, and if not, how do they multiply? I don’t think I’d be prepared to venture any solid theories here in a blog comment! Mike Drout wrote about the question of female Orcs on his blog a couple years ago — and you’ll find me among the commenters. :)
I don’t think even Tolkien quite knew what to make of his own creations in this respect, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find him a bit worried he was “overstepping his bounds” as a sub-creator. He went back and forth on the Orcs a number of times. Have a look at “Myth’s Transformed” (published in Morgoth’s Ring, part of The History of Middle-earth) for some idea of the dilemmas he faced — both literary and moral — and how he was attempting to tackle them relatively late in his life. Interesting reading!
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