Someone recently asked me which one of the Lord of the Rings books/movies was my favorite, and while I maintain that I love all of them (and, indeed, one can not simply watch one movie without watching the other two as well), I think I can say with some certainty that Fellowship of the Ring is my "favorite" of the trilogy.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Two Towers because of Pippin's character arch (which is a discussion for another blog post) and other such things. But Fellowship is probably the one that I have the fondest memories of. Fellowship contains most of the scenes I consider classic LOTR motif moments.
Everyone film adaption and artist portrayal has a version of the Hobbits hiding under the tree roots while the Black Rider searches for them on the road.
Almost every LOTR artist has done a painting or sketch of the confrontation at the Ford of Rivendell.
The Mines of Moria.
The Bridge of Khazad Dum.
The Mirror of Galadriel.
And, for course, Boromir's betrayal and Frodo's departure for Mordor.
These are the moments that immediately come to mind when I think of LOTR, and they all happen in the Fellowship of the Ring.
This, I think, is the book that transitions us from the fun, juvenile nature of The Hobbit (which was originally intended to be a children's book) into the dark, gritty world Middle Earth that we become more familiar with in the proceeding two books.
Fellowship still has that air of homeliness, of home-cooked meals and quiet evenings by the fire. Even in its darkest moments, Fellowship is arguably more lighthearted than either Two Towers or Return of the King. There's still a sense that, yeah, we can totally get this Ring to Mordor, drop it in the fire, and be home in time for dinner...or supper...or whatever Hobbit meal happens around 7pm Shire Standard Time.
Throughout the hardships, the struggles, and even the deaths that occur, Fellowship gives us the illusion that everything is still fun and lighthearted. Goodness, even after Frodo's been stabbed by the Morgul Blade and is PRACTICALLY DYING, the four Hobbits are all still being their goofy little selves, and they spend several pages of the book hanging out at Trollshaw (that place where Bilbo and the Dwarves were about to be eaten by trolls before Gandalf showed up and the trolls turned to stone, as recounted in The Hobbit). Sam even sings them a particularly long and ridiculous song about trolls while they eat lunch And Frodo, who by the way IS DYING, is totally cool with it, laughing and joking (although weakly) along with his friends.
Sorry, I went off on a tangent there.
My point is that Fellowship of the Ring is more of a pleasant, upbeat experience than the rest of the trilogy. The rest of the trilogy is great, don't get my wrong, but not in the "everything's good, everything's groovy" sort of way that Fellowship is.
But, I think Fellowship adds so much to the weight or gravity of the other two books. Because Fellowship left us with such warm, fuzzy memories of Hobbits reading by the fire, Hobbits laughing and joking about everything that comes across their path, and the innocent awe of Hobbits who are the first of their kind to see some of the hidden wonders of their world, the dark, depressing overtones in Two Towers and Return of the King feel even heavier, and I think helps us to understand the mindset of the Hobbits, and especially Frodo and Sam. We feel the weight of their desperate mission even more keenly because we can still feel the tiniest hint of that warm, fuzzy, lightheartedness from Fellowship. We feel Pippin and Merry's plight (as prisoners of the Uruk Hai) more keenly because we've seen then at their best (and worst) in Fellowship, the comedic relief of the Nine Walkers, the lighthearted fools who (perhaps unintentionally) make the first part of the journey that much more entertaining.
Then comes the end of the Two Towers movie, with Frodo and Sam in the ruins of Osgiliath with Nazgul and Orcs all around, and Sam is literally in tears because, let's face it, how on Middle Earth did they go from being quiet, peaceful folk in the most perfect place in the world to being hungry, exhausted wanderers, virtually prisoners to Faramir and his men, in this smoldering ruin of a city on the very borders of Hell itself?
"By rights, we shouldn't even be here," Sam says. "But we are."
And as Sam launches into his epic monologue, we find ourselves wondering along with Sam, how can things go back to the they were in Fellowship after all the crazy bad stuff that has happened in the meantime? Does that quiet, peaceful Shire still exist? It's so far away. Almost 5.75 hours have passed since the last time you saw the Shire (if you're marathoning).
The Shire is the familiar aspects of our lives, our family, our friends, pets, school, favorite places.
The Quest is the journey we must all take eventually, a new job in a different city, the loss or death of a loved one, graduating college, the collapse of your favorite tree.
The Fellowship of the Ring shows how even as we head out on the new stages of our life journey, our own personal quests, we still cling to a piece of the familiar, a piece of that thing that we left behind (whether willingly or unwillingly).
And as the curtain closes on Frodo and Sam heading off to Mordor on their own, cut off from their friends (and family, Merry and Pippin are related to Frodo, let's not forget), we learn that we, too, must eventually set off on our own, and leave the familiar comfort we once knew behind us. The memory of it will stay with us and effect us for the rest of our lives, even if it is far away and long ago.
