LOTR: The Fellowship of the LynZ

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.

It isn't until the end of the book, as Frodo is heading off for Mordor by himself and Sam nearly drowns himself in order to go with him that we finally realize (as does Frodo, I think) that this mission isn't going to be all sunshine and daisies. This quest to destroy the Ring of Power is going to be fraught with a kind of danger we haven't encountered up to this point in our journey through Middle Earth.

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.

Master Samwise

So, I found myself thinking about Master Samwise Gamgee on my way to school the other day.

I have no idea why I was thinking about him.

But, I did have some very interesting thoughts while thinking about him.

Sam is a Hobbit of duty.  He sees it as his duty to go with Frodo wherever he goes.  Even Mordor.  But, he doesn't do so begrudgingly.  He's very happy to do so.

However, I don't really think Sam is aware of the exact scale of Frodo's quest until he looks into the Mirror of Galadriel.

Up until then, Sam goes on the quest as Frodo's companion, his buddy, someone to talk to when the journey gets boring, someone to keep Frodo from forgetting anything or put on the Ring.  He's aware that the Frodo must leave the Shire to destroy the Ring to save the world.  But, the world is so overwhelmingly big to Sam, and maps convey nothing to his mind.  At the beginning of the quest, he's on the quest for Frodo's company and protection.  "Here we go, off to save the world."

But, somehow, I don't think the quest actually meant more to him than that up until the Mirror of Galadriel episode.

In the Mirror of Galadriel, Sam is shown a vision of The Shire being burned and overrun by orcs.

The Shire.  Untouched by time or war or upheaval.  Destroyed.

This is no longer some very large quest for a very large world.  I think in that moment, in seeing that vision, the quest suddenly became personal to Sam.

Sam has family back in the Shire.  He's got friends.  He's got a mega-crush on a pretty Hobbit named Rosie.  Up until then, he assumed that if the Ring was returned to Sauron, the world would end, but the Shire would go on as usual.

Upon seeing the vision of the Shire being destroyed, I think Sam finally becomes aware that even the Shire can be destroyed.  That the fate of the Shire, his family, friends, and especially Rosie is also tied up with the fate of the Ring.

If Frodo fails, not just Rohan, Gondor, and the other places like that will be taken over and all their people enslaved or killed.  The Shire will fall too.  The Hobbits will be enslaved too.  These are Sam's family and friends we're talking about now.  Suddenly, Sam becomes aware of exactly how imperative it is for Frodo to succeed on the quest to destroy the Ring.

And now, Sam isn't just on willing to follow Frodo to Mount Doom out of duty and friendship.  He's willing to do so in the hopes of saving his loved ones from impending doom.

This is Sam's growing up moment.  Technically, he's only 36.  He's spent his life hanging with Hobbits his age, learning to read from Bilbo, and gardening with his father (and in his father's stead when his father gets too old to do so anymore).  Sam's had a rather sheltered life.  He's heard of Mordor, of course, but Mordor is so far away that it doesn't really bother him.

Now, he realizes that everything he's every known or cared about is just as dependent on the destruction of the Ring as everyone else in Middle Earth.  And, he is more than willing to go with Frodo, to encourage him, to keep him company, and to make sure he gets that Ring in the fire.

I don't think Sam's being particularly selfish by insisting on going with Frodo to Mordor.  He definitely cares about his dad and Rosie, and everyone else in the Shire.  But, he could just say, "Okay, you're going to Mordor, I'm going home.  Good luck!"

He could have said, "You know what, Mordor is too dangerous.  If I go there, I'll never see my Dad or Rosie again.  So, so long, Frodo!"

But, he doesn't.

He knows his purpose.  He's there to help the Ring Bearer (Frodo) in fulfilling his quest.  Even when Frodo tries to sneak off on his own, Sam insists on going with him (nearly drowning himself in an attempt to follow Frodo's boat).  Not because he's hoping to get anything out of it.  But, because;

1. he's willing to go off on a deadly quest, from which he may never return, if he knows that Rosie and his Dad might be spared enslavement and death, even if Sam himself never makes it home, and

2. he really does care about Frodo.  After all, Frodo is one of his friends, although he is also Sam's employer.  If Frodo goes off on his own, it's ten to one whether or not the Ring will actually get destroyed or will be retaken by the enemy.  If Sam goes with him, Frodo's got a fighting chance.

Those were the thoughts going through my mind that morning on my way to school.

The Fellowship vs. An Unexpected Journey

Why do I have a feeling that The Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit movies are going to end up being like the Star Wars episodes?

You start with parts 4, 5,  and 6, and then go back to watch parts 1, 2, and 3.

No wonder the Left Brained population of America are hopelessly confused by us Right Brained fantasy/sci fi people.  (As a side note, being left or right brained is not the same as being politically left or right.  Left brained people are more analytical, and right brained people tend to be more global.  Right brained people are more likely to understand and enjoy fantasy stories like The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings than left brained people).

Anywho...

During my Spring Break, my Dad and I managed to get out of town for a few days.  We knew the hotel room had a DVD player, so we brought some of our favorite movies with us to watch (since I usually don't have time to do this while in school).  And, of course, one of those favorites happens to be...The Fellowship of the Ring.  It took us two days to finish watching the movie.

Of course, I've seen The Fellowship dozens of times before now.  But, with An Unexpected Journey now fresh in my mind, I made some observations about The Fellowship, and more or less about the Lord of the Rings trilogy in general, that I'd never thought of before.  If this is old news to you, I'm sorry.

If LOTR and The Hobbit were restaurants, The Lord of the Rings would be a big, almost multicultural restaurant with several locations across the country (picture Hobbits running Olive Garden, and you've got the general idea).  The Hobbit, on the other hand, would be the Mom and Pop place wedged between the Real Estate office and the Haunted Hotel in the middle of the Downtown "Historic" district of town.  For anyone who has been to Flagstaff, picture Hobbits running Josephine's, and you've got the idea.  The Lord of the Rings restaurant would serve a variety of mass produced foods.  The Hobbit restaurant would serve Grandma's famous home cooked meals.  I was eating dinner while watching The Fellowship, that's why I'm comparing the movies to restaurants.

There's nothing wrong with either restaurant scenario.  Both Olive Garden and Josephine's are good restaurants.  It's more of a feeling than anything.  The Lord of the Rings feels more general and open, whereas The Hobbit feels more homie and personal.

Why?

It's actually quite simple.

Lord of the Rings seems to be more focused on the "big picture", whereas The Hobbit is more focused on an individual piece of the puzzle.

Frodo's adventures really do concern the whole world.  If he doesn't destroy the Ring, the world will be forever enslaved to Sauron, because Sauron is one of those villains who doesn't really need all those slaves, but would rather have miserable slaves then somewhat happy, "free" subjects to rule.  The entire world is literally depending on him to succeed.

Bilbo's adventures are on a much smaller, more personal scale.  The Dwarves' quest really only pertains to them, and to Bilbo since he's kinda stuck with them.  The rest of Middle Earth could really care less if Thorin manages to take back Erebor from Smaug.

The Lord of the Rings jumps between the adventures of Frodo and Sam as they make their way to Mordor, the adventures of Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf, and the various antics and adventures of Merry and Pippin.  But, at all times, no matter which part of the story is being focused on for a given chapter or scene, the thoughts of everyone always, always, always turn toward Frodo and that little piece of round metal, the destruction of which could mean the difference between freedom and slavery, life and death.  Frodo literally has the weight of the entire world on his small, Hobbit shoulders.

The Hobbit focuses solely on the same 13-15 characters at a given time.  Granted, there is the occasional episode where Gandalf goes off on his own quest, Thorin disappears (with the assistance of some Elves), or Bilbo ends up completely alone in Goblin caves.  But, for the most part, the story follows the thirteen Dwarves, the Wizard, and the Hobbit on their quest.  And their quest is a personal one.  The dwarves have been driven from their home in the mountain, and dwarves do not take kindly to being driven from their homes by dragons like Smaug.  This mission has very personal ramifications for the dwarves.  We never really see where Gandalf runs off to, or what the rest of the world thinks of the adventures of Thorin and Co.  The only times this really becomes an issue for any party outside of the Company are when the dwarves are captured by the Goblins, captured (once again) by the Elves, show up in barrels in Laketown, and when everyone eventually gathers for the Battle of 5 Armies.

Now, you may be thinking, "But a lot of different races seem to care a lot about the quest of Thorin and Co."  But, if you think about it, you will notice a few key groups who are not present at the Battle, or at all throughout the Hobbit.  If the adventures of Bilbo with Thorin and Company are important to the rest of the world, where are the men of Rohan and Gondor?  Where are the Rangers?  Where are the Ents?  Where are the orcs of Mordor and Isengard?  Where, for that matter, is Sauron?  Or Gollum?  Or the corsairs with the black ships?  The only armies that really show up in The Hobbit are the men of Laketown, the Elves of Mirkwood, the Goblins of, well, Goblin Town (still seeking revenge over the death of the Goblin King), and, of course, the Dwarves of Erebor.  And one Hobbit named Bilbo who just runs and hides behind a rock during the battle.  Okay, let's give the Orcs of Moria credit, because they'll probably show up in the movie edition of the Battle of Five Armies.

But, outside of the Battle, we don't really follow much of the daily lives and thoughts of the men, elves, orcs, goblins, or even the other Hobbits outside of the Company of Thorin and his buddies.

The Lord of the Rings covers the journeys, thoughts, and lives of so many characters, who are all - in one way or another - fighting for the same cause: to conquer Sauron and save Middle Earth.  There's just so much going on and so many diverse characters (all of whom we, the viewers grow somewhat fond of over the course of the 9.5 hours we spend with them over the course of the three movies), that sometimes it's hard to feel a personal connection.  Their personal lives all evolve and depend on Frodo's success, but they still have to deal with their own troubles, like orcs attacking from Isengard.

The Hobbit covers the journey of thirteen buddies who are on a mission that is very personal to them.  It may seem important, but again once you step back and look at the whole picture, you can see that these thirteen guys are really just a small part of the image.  The only people really effected by the success of failure of their mission are themselves and their families.

I'm not dissing Thorin's quest at all.  I'm just pointing out the different between the feeling of The Hobbit and the feeling of the Lord of the Rings.

And, to tell the truth, I didn't really understand, nor care to understand, the extent of the tragedy of the loss of Erebor, nor the extent of the emotional damage the event inflicted upon Thorin and his kin until I saw An Unexpected Journey.  One scene that sticks in my mind is an aerial shot of the dwarves pouring out of Erebor's side door, while smoke billows forth from the main gate.  It's haunting to think that Thorin is down there, running, terrified (even though he probably isn't showing it), grief-stricken.

We know exactly what this quest means for Thorin and his pals.  And, the Howard Shore soundtrack won't let us forget either.  (If you don't believe me, go listen to the Soundtrack, and make a tally mark somewhere for every time you hear the Misty Mountain tune replayed at various speeds and tempos).

As much as I love the Lord of the Rings, we don't get that moment.  There are literally dozens of them. Hobbits running from orc invaders in the vision in The Mirror of Galadriel.  People running from angry, scary looking mountain men.  Characters running from Uruk Hai.  Characters running from orcs.  Characters running from...other characters.  You get the picture.  But, the only moments that really get me in The Fellowship are when Gandalf falls into the Abyss in Moria, when Merry and Pippin are captured by the Orcs as Boromir is dying, Boromir's subsequent death, and Sam chasing after Frodo as Frodo prepares to leave for Mordor.  All of the other very dramatic running-for-their-lives scenes, though still heart wrenching to watch, and I'm sure devastating for the fantasy people involved, do not give the viewer the same feeling of personal connection to the characters.

Let's face it.  Once you've seen one peasant village burn, you've seen them all.  I don't mean to sound heartless, but after burning village #3, desensitization begins to set in.  I'm sure the people in those villages have been traumatized and emotionally scarred about as much as Thorin.  The only difference is that we - as the readers and viewers - don't get close enough to personally connect with anyone, as we do with Thorin in The Hobbit.

So, next time you eat at Olive Garden, think of Frodo and Sam, Merry and Pippin, and all of their Middle Earth buddies.

And, next time Grandma has you over for dinner, think of Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and, last but certainly not least, Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End.