NOTE: Aspects of this essay first appeared in "Making the Darkness Conscious: J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings," found in Parabola, Volume 29, No. 3, Fall 2004, pp. 95-101. February 24, 2017, an updated abridged version of this essay appeared as an Apple Farm Blog Post. It is being presented here in its full form for the first time.
BY: DON RAICHE
At this time (February 2017), many Americans are living in fear and stress over the new administration in Washington. It feels like we are in a time of autocratic governance, exemplified by an arbitrary exercise of power, assertions that those who hold power may do whatsoever they want without regard for truth or the well-being of those not chosen as close lieutenants to the President.
Last year, at this time, we talked about fear and its impact on all of us. This year, it feels like we need to explore how we meet fear, the very real fear of ruthless power destroying very valuable aspects of life. This past autumn, President Obama spoke of what he felt was needed at this time: “The only way anything gets done is to recognize the truth of the person opposite you; get in their heads and see through their eyes.”
It may seem that such empathy, such compassion can be of use against the ruthless power of an absolutist ruler. Yes, it comes to me that we do know of stories, of myths, where such virtues triumph. It seems to me that we live at a time where a potent story does provide some guidance: J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.
I believe The Lord of the Rings is a myth for our times and presents insights into how to meet ruthless power, the power of domination over all others.
As so many people know this myth, I won’t tell the story in detail. What strikes me is Frodo’s destined relationship to the One Ring of Power and Frodo’s relationship to Gollum, which is inextricably bound to Frodo’s quest.
One of the essential and unique aspects of the myth is that the hero, Frodo, is not trying to achieve a great prize, a new land, or the hand of a precious maiden, or to win personal power. His venture is to get rid of something, to destroy something that appears to confer power on its possessor; to rid Middle-earth of the Ring of Power through which its possessor can dominate and control all others.
The most striking thing about the Ring of Power is that it must never be used; we cannot use the power to destroy the power of domination. It doesn’t work that way. That doesn’t mean that the characters in LOR can’t oppose some of the evils that Sauron’s power has created (although a close reading reveals that the Dark Lord creates nothing; it only warps, diminishes, and destroys). It’s noteworthy that in Tolkien’s mythology, the Dark Lord cannot create. Orcs come from a line of corrupted Elvish folk, and Ringwraiths were nine mortal men who were ensnared and deformed by a lust for power.
Those who have legitimate authority can act out of it; Aragon can fight for the restoration of Gondor; Gandalf can fight against the evils of corrupted wizards. It seems important that these characters truly have authority to act: Aragon is a rightful king. Frodo himself has inherited the Ring from his uncle Bilbo. Nevertheless, the Ring of Power can’t conquer the evil of Sauron or destroy itself.
Yet the Ring of Power is destroyed in the myth. It is destroyed by Gollum’s actions at Mt. Doom when he bites the Ring off of Frodo’s finger, then falls with the Ring into the fires of dissolution. If Frodo had permitted Gollum to be killed, the loathsome creature would not have been present at Mt. Doom.
What prevents Frodo from dispatching Gollum on the long and painful journey to Mt. Doom? It appears to be Frodo’s exercise of empathy and compassion. Tolkien uses the term pity to demonstrate Frodo’s decisive acts. [1]
‘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. And he has been well rewarded, escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity.’
‘I am sorry,’ said Frodo. ‘But I am frightened; and I do not feel any pity for Gollum.’
‘You have not seen him,’ Gandalf broke in.
‘No, and I don’t want to,’ said Frodo...’Now at any rate he is as bad as an Orc, and just an enemy. He deserves death.’
‘Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that lie 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. I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end; and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many - yours not least,’
Pity as an emotion is not entirely alien to modern man. We do see outpourings of relief and support for those who suffer - whether refugees from Syria or homeless people. But in its derivation, pity is not only an emotion, but it is also a virtue and duty. It derives from the Roman pietas - the ancient Roman personification of familial affection. Pietas – piety - is reverence for God and devout fulfillment of religious obligations. This austere Roman virtue means caring for and fulfilling one’s duty to relatives, ancestors, and the gods: it is the virtue of giving justice to those who belong to us and to whom we belong.
When Frodo finally meets Gollum, he remembers Gandalf’s words about pity from the beginning of the story. [2] At this point, Frodo has Gollum swear by the Ring and not on it to lead Frodo and Sam toward the Dark Lord. The oath seems to make it possible for Gollum to change; he even seems to be moved by pity himself when he comes upon Frodo and Sam sleeping.
The negotiation with Gollum also changes Frodo; he calls him by his Hobbit name of Smeagol. Frodo also increases in stature, which does not happen when he wears the Ring at other points in the story. Here, Sam notices “a look in his face and a tone in his voice that he had not known before.” [3] When Frodo wears the Ring, whether out of frivolity or overwhelming desire or fear or for whatever motive, he is in danger. There seems to be a great difference between what occurs when he puts it on and what occurs here. In these instances, however, Frodo is not wearing the Ring but is referring to it. When he acknowledges that power but steadfastly refuses to use it to accomplish his own ends, Frodo seems to derive authority from it, and he is transformed.
The journey toward Mordor seems the essential story of the myth. There is, however, another journey. And that is Frodo’s inner journey, his struggle to exercise empathy and compassion, to integrate these virtues into the center of his psychological and spiritual life – into the wholeness of his personality.
Frodo doesn’t initiate the process, or only to the extent that he is able to practice acceptance and humility toward the wisdom imparted by Gandalf.
The true center of the myth is what happens between Frodo and Gollum. The Ring is destroyed at Mt. Doom because, in a very real sense, it has been sacrificed through the relationship between Frodo and Gollum, and thus Middle-earth is saved.
Does it seem we are a long way from helpful ideas about how we can comport ourselves in these troubled times? If The Lord of the Rings is a guide for us, if it is a myth for our times, how does it provide insights and even energy for our present journey? The violence to dominate others must be abandoned, not only in the large arena of national politics but also in the minute particulars of our daily lives. There is no fundamental difference in kind between the power the Dark Lord wields and that which we exercise on a day-to-day basis. We know in ourselves how very subtle that can be: dominating conversations, getting our own way in food choices, and petty gossiping that undermines another’s reputation. We are not meant to control others.
These efforts can help to drain some of the hate so prevalent in the very atmosphere we breathe. We can protest and challenge particular actions that corrupt and demean. We can try to orient ourselves toward the things that have strengthened and enriched our inner lives. We can nurture the things that have helped us to trust, to trust that we are made for these times. We can remind ourselves that the creative solution is often something unexpected.
In The Lord of the Rings, power cannot defeat power. Only the abandonment of power can truly defeat power. Might does not make right and never will. It can’t. It is unnatural and not generative. Only the forsaking of power allows for the possibility of something other than brute force to prevail. It is extremely difficult for us in the 21st century to do the mental and spiritual gymnastics this calls for. We are asked to renounce the use of power and allow space for another way of being to manifest itself. Another way is not impossible; it has been imagined. The Gospels proclaimed it, yet most of us are still Romans, coveting power and might rather than honoring humility and love. [4] Jung commented: “The religion of love was the exact psychological counterpart to the Roman devil-worship of power.” [5] He also said that such a reformation might take centuries of suffering to realize.
The Lord of the Rings demonstrates how hard this conversion is, but the alternative is clear: the continued reign of the Dark Lord in our hearts and souls; the Sauron mentality that inevitably only perverts and debases any “other” it encounters. The trilogy shows us how dangerous the Ring is to the one who uses it. In no other myth, as far as I know, is the hero required to carry something so powerful and threatening to the bearer himself. The Ring makes the bearer invisible, but while invisible It reveals him to the great evil of Sauron. Worn over a period of time, the Ring “thins” the personality so it increasingly loses the qualities that characterize hobbits and human beings alike: the ability to love, to have compassion for another, and freedom to make conscious choices.
BY: DON RAICHE
At this time (February 2017), many Americans are living in fear and stress over the new administration in Washington. It feels like we are in a time of autocratic governance, exemplified by an arbitrary exercise of power, assertions that those who hold power may do whatsoever they want without regard for truth or the well-being of those not chosen as close lieutenants to the President.
Last year, at this time, we talked about fear and its impact on all of us. This year, it feels like we need to explore how we meet fear, the very real fear of ruthless power destroying very valuable aspects of life. This past autumn, President Obama spoke of what he felt was needed at this time: “The only way anything gets done is to recognize the truth of the person opposite you; get in their heads and see through their eyes.”
It may seem that such empathy, such compassion can be of use against the ruthless power of an absolutist ruler. Yes, it comes to me that we do know of stories, of myths, where such virtues triumph. It seems to me that we live at a time where a potent story does provide some guidance: J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.
I believe The Lord of the Rings is a myth for our times and presents insights into how to meet ruthless power, the power of domination over all others.
As so many people know this myth, I won’t tell the story in detail. What strikes me is Frodo’s destined relationship to the One Ring of Power and Frodo’s relationship to Gollum, which is inextricably bound to Frodo’s quest.
One of the essential and unique aspects of the myth is that the hero, Frodo, is not trying to achieve a great prize, a new land, or the hand of a precious maiden, or to win personal power. His venture is to get rid of something, to destroy something that appears to confer power on its possessor; to rid Middle-earth of the Ring of Power through which its possessor can dominate and control all others.
The most striking thing about the Ring of Power is that it must never be used; we cannot use the power to destroy the power of domination. It doesn’t work that way. That doesn’t mean that the characters in LOR can’t oppose some of the evils that Sauron’s power has created (although a close reading reveals that the Dark Lord creates nothing; it only warps, diminishes, and destroys). It’s noteworthy that in Tolkien’s mythology, the Dark Lord cannot create. Orcs come from a line of corrupted Elvish folk, and Ringwraiths were nine mortal men who were ensnared and deformed by a lust for power.
Those who have legitimate authority can act out of it; Aragon can fight for the restoration of Gondor; Gandalf can fight against the evils of corrupted wizards. It seems important that these characters truly have authority to act: Aragon is a rightful king. Frodo himself has inherited the Ring from his uncle Bilbo. Nevertheless, the Ring of Power can’t conquer the evil of Sauron or destroy itself.
Yet the Ring of Power is destroyed in the myth. It is destroyed by Gollum’s actions at Mt. Doom when he bites the Ring off of Frodo’s finger, then falls with the Ring into the fires of dissolution. If Frodo had permitted Gollum to be killed, the loathsome creature would not have been present at Mt. Doom.
What prevents Frodo from dispatching Gollum on the long and painful journey to Mt. Doom? It appears to be Frodo’s exercise of empathy and compassion. Tolkien uses the term pity to demonstrate Frodo’s decisive acts. [1]
‘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. And he has been well rewarded, escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity.’
‘I am sorry,’ said Frodo. ‘But I am frightened; and I do not feel any pity for Gollum.’
‘You have not seen him,’ Gandalf broke in.
‘No, and I don’t want to,’ said Frodo...’Now at any rate he is as bad as an Orc, and just an enemy. He deserves death.’
‘Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that lie 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. I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end; and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many - yours not least,’
Pity as an emotion is not entirely alien to modern man. We do see outpourings of relief and support for those who suffer - whether refugees from Syria or homeless people. But in its derivation, pity is not only an emotion, but it is also a virtue and duty. It derives from the Roman pietas - the ancient Roman personification of familial affection. Pietas – piety - is reverence for God and devout fulfillment of religious obligations. This austere Roman virtue means caring for and fulfilling one’s duty to relatives, ancestors, and the gods: it is the virtue of giving justice to those who belong to us and to whom we belong.
When Frodo finally meets Gollum, he remembers Gandalf’s words about pity from the beginning of the story. [2] At this point, Frodo has Gollum swear by the Ring and not on it to lead Frodo and Sam toward the Dark Lord. The oath seems to make it possible for Gollum to change; he even seems to be moved by pity himself when he comes upon Frodo and Sam sleeping.
The negotiation with Gollum also changes Frodo; he calls him by his Hobbit name of Smeagol. Frodo also increases in stature, which does not happen when he wears the Ring at other points in the story. Here, Sam notices “a look in his face and a tone in his voice that he had not known before.” [3] When Frodo wears the Ring, whether out of frivolity or overwhelming desire or fear or for whatever motive, he is in danger. There seems to be a great difference between what occurs when he puts it on and what occurs here. In these instances, however, Frodo is not wearing the Ring but is referring to it. When he acknowledges that power but steadfastly refuses to use it to accomplish his own ends, Frodo seems to derive authority from it, and he is transformed.
The journey toward Mordor seems the essential story of the myth. There is, however, another journey. And that is Frodo’s inner journey, his struggle to exercise empathy and compassion, to integrate these virtues into the center of his psychological and spiritual life – into the wholeness of his personality.
Frodo doesn’t initiate the process, or only to the extent that he is able to practice acceptance and humility toward the wisdom imparted by Gandalf.
The true center of the myth is what happens between Frodo and Gollum. The Ring is destroyed at Mt. Doom because, in a very real sense, it has been sacrificed through the relationship between Frodo and Gollum, and thus Middle-earth is saved.
Does it seem we are a long way from helpful ideas about how we can comport ourselves in these troubled times? If The Lord of the Rings is a guide for us, if it is a myth for our times, how does it provide insights and even energy for our present journey? The violence to dominate others must be abandoned, not only in the large arena of national politics but also in the minute particulars of our daily lives. There is no fundamental difference in kind between the power the Dark Lord wields and that which we exercise on a day-to-day basis. We know in ourselves how very subtle that can be: dominating conversations, getting our own way in food choices, and petty gossiping that undermines another’s reputation. We are not meant to control others.
These efforts can help to drain some of the hate so prevalent in the very atmosphere we breathe. We can protest and challenge particular actions that corrupt and demean. We can try to orient ourselves toward the things that have strengthened and enriched our inner lives. We can nurture the things that have helped us to trust, to trust that we are made for these times. We can remind ourselves that the creative solution is often something unexpected.
In The Lord of the Rings, power cannot defeat power. Only the abandonment of power can truly defeat power. Might does not make right and never will. It can’t. It is unnatural and not generative. Only the forsaking of power allows for the possibility of something other than brute force to prevail. It is extremely difficult for us in the 21st century to do the mental and spiritual gymnastics this calls for. We are asked to renounce the use of power and allow space for another way of being to manifest itself. Another way is not impossible; it has been imagined. The Gospels proclaimed it, yet most of us are still Romans, coveting power and might rather than honoring humility and love. [4] Jung commented: “The religion of love was the exact psychological counterpart to the Roman devil-worship of power.” [5] He also said that such a reformation might take centuries of suffering to realize.
The Lord of the Rings demonstrates how hard this conversion is, but the alternative is clear: the continued reign of the Dark Lord in our hearts and souls; the Sauron mentality that inevitably only perverts and debases any “other” it encounters. The trilogy shows us how dangerous the Ring is to the one who uses it. In no other myth, as far as I know, is the hero required to carry something so powerful and threatening to the bearer himself. The Ring makes the bearer invisible, but while invisible It reveals him to the great evil of Sauron. Worn over a period of time, the Ring “thins” the personality so it increasingly loses the qualities that characterize hobbits and human beings alike: the ability to love, to have compassion for another, and freedom to make conscious choices.
NOTES
[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (New York: Ballantine, 1965), p. 93
[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers (New York: Ballantine, 1965), pp. 281-2
[3] Ibid, pp. 313-4
[4] There is wonderful commentary on the contrast between Romans and Christians in Edward Edinger's Ego and Archetype (Boston: Shambhala, 1972), pp. 152-153.
[5] C.G. Jung. "The Development of Personality," The Development of the Personality, Vol. 17 of the Collected Works (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977), paragraph 309.
[1] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring (New York: Ballantine, 1965), p. 93
[2] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers (New York: Ballantine, 1965), pp. 281-2
[3] Ibid, pp. 313-4
[4] There is wonderful commentary on the contrast between Romans and Christians in Edward Edinger's Ego and Archetype (Boston: Shambhala, 1972), pp. 152-153.
[5] C.G. Jung. "The Development of Personality," The Development of the Personality, Vol. 17 of the Collected Works (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977), paragraph 309.
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