The small hands of Beren and the smaller hands of Frodo

When we encounter Elrond's words at the council -- 'Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere' (FR 2.ii.269) -- we naturally think of the 'small hands' of the hobbits, of Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam who find and bear the Ring. And we are quite right to do so, but Elrond's proverbial 'oft' suggests that he has more than just the hobbits in mind. When we learn whose hands he means, it comes as quite a surprise. 

Here [i.e., in the story of Beren and Lúthien] we meet, among other things, the first example of the motive (to become dominant in Hobbits) that the great policies of world history, 'the wheels of the world', are often turned not by the Lords and Governors, even gods, but by the seemingly unknown and weak – owing to the secret life in creation, and the part unknowable to all wisdom but One, that resides in the intrusions of the Children of God into the Drama. It is Beren the outlawed mortal who succeeds (with the help of Lúthien, a mere maiden even if an elf of royalty) where all the armies and warriors have failed: he penetrates the stronghold of the Enemy and wrests one of the Silmarilli from the Iron Crown. Thus he wins the hand of Lúthien and the first marriage of mortal and immortal is achieved.

Letters, no. 131, p. 149

It is only by stepping back from the tale of Beren and Lúthien itself and viewing it in its vast mythological context that we can see the hands of this 'outlawed mortal' and 'mere elf maiden' (!) as 'small'. How many comments by Tolkien could better illustrate the difference in perspective between the First Age mythology of the Silmarillion and the Third Age history of The Lord of the Rings? How many at the same time could reveal the essence of the continuing Tale that Beren and Lúthien and Frodo and Sam find themselves in over six thousand years apart? Or the all but inconceivable role of 'the Children of God in the Drama'?

As Elrond says, 'Who of all the Wise could have foreseen it?' (FR 2.ii.270).

Review: 'The Apprenticeship of J. R. R. Tolkien' by Simon J. Cook

 

Simon Cook is one of the most thoughtful and perceptive Tolkien scholars of this generation. His insights into Tolkien's relationship with his text, with Beowulf, and with the Beowulf poet inform his understanding of what Tolkien was doing when he set out to write what he at first called 'the new Hobbit', but which we know as The Lord of the Rings. Like most books worth actually reading once, The Apprenticeship of J. R. R. Tolkien is worth reading twice. I thought it terrific when I first read it three years ago. Now after three years spent reading, thinking, and writing about Tolkien myself, I have reread it and am now even more convinced of this work's value than I was then.

Frodo and Bilbo in the Hall of Fire (FR 2.i.230-33, 236-38) -- A Managed Meeting?

It is easily forgotten that Sam must have witnessed the moment when Frodo wished to strike Bilbo for reaching for the Ring. He arrived just after Elrond left the two of them alone. Whether Sam had any part in the conversation before Bilbo asked about the Ring is unclear,* but as soon as Frodo's reaction prompts Bilbo to change the subject to news of the Shire Sam chimes in. This continues until Strider arrives and takes Bilbo away to confer on poetry. 

If we look back at this sequence from the perspective of Sam’s arrival later that evening to prompt Frodo to go to bed, we may reasonably wonder if Frodo and Bilbo are here being ‘managed’ by Gandalf and Elrond. In this Bilbo may be complicit to some degree, and Sam of course has played the spy more than once already. It is also true that Gandalf and Elrond had already 'managed' Bilbo's volunteering to go back and collect the Ring. 

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*Consider the following sentences, in which 'they' at the beginning of the second sentence might include Sam, or exclude him as 'them' at the end of the first does:

'In the meanwhile Frodo and Bilbo sat side by side, and Sam came quickly and placed himself near them. They talked together in soft voices, oblivious of the mirth and music in the hall about them.'

        FR 2.i.231

I think that on balance 'they' does not include Sam, directly following 'them' as it does, but that might not be correct.

Eleventy-One: Re-reading The Lord of the Rings 50 years on -- part four

 

Book One, Chapter 2: The Shadow of the Past

Indeed, [Frodo] at once began to carry on Bilbo’s reputation for oddity. He refused to go into mourning; and the next year he gave a party in honour of Bilbo’s hundred-and-twelfth birthday, which he called Hundred-weight Feast. But that was short of the mark, for twenty guests were invited and there were several meals at which it snowed food and rained drink, as hobbits say.

Always having felt a bit odd myself, as if on the outside looking in, I relished Frodo's wholehearted embrace of eccentricity. Part of the oddity for me was always being fascinated by words and languages. My mother taught me bits of Latin and French, my grandmother Irish, my father German, my brother Spanish. So, words like 'hundred-weight' were a delight to me. (I recognized it from the tables of 'useful information' on the back of my composition books, though I seem to recall some brief confusion since a hundred-weight in the US and a hundred-weight in the UK are not the same number of pounds.) 

I adopted the phrase 'it snowed food and rained drink, as hobbits say' at once. Some years later I read the following verses in the Prologue of the Canterbury Tales (343-48): 

Without bake mete was nevere his hous, 

Of fissh and flessh, and that so plentvous

It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke;

Of all deyntees that men koude thynke,

After the sondry sesons of the yeer,

So chaunged he his mete and his soper.

I was in high school when I first read these lines, and I recall gasping aloud in delight in class and having to explain my amusement to everyone: 'Thomas, would you share what's so funny with the rest of us.' 

Today what's catching my eye is the spelling of 'fissh' and 'flessh', and the variety of food reminds me of how well stocked Bilbo's larder had been before his adventures began. Chaucer has even more to say about the Franklin's table, and Tolkien has more to say of the 'high reputation' of Bilbo's. I am beginning to think that looking at The Franklin's Tale in this context would be very interesting.

And of course both Bilbo and Frodo leave unwashed dishes behind them when they leave. Bilbo was being hurried out the door by Gandalf. Frodo was being rather pettily spiteful towards the Sackville-Bagginses.

'work they may accomplish once, and once only' -- Silmarillion, p. 78

In a single chapter of The Silmarillion we learn that some creative acts require so much of their makers that they can perform them only once. 

Yavanna says she cannot repeat the creation of the Two Trees -- 'Even for those who are mightiest under Ilúvatar there is some work they may accomplish once, and once only' --  but that she could use the light of the Trees locked within the silmarils to revive them, if only Fëanor would break them (78).

Fëanor replies that  'for the less even as for the greater there is some deed that he may accomplish but once only; and in that deed his heart shall rest' (78). His creation of the silmarils is of the same order as hers of the Trees, and, 'if I must break them, I shall break my heart, and I shall be slain' (78).

When Fëanor demands that the Teleri give up their ships so that the Noldor can pursue Morgoth to Middle-earth, the Teleri respond that '[our] ships are to us as are the gems of the Noldor: the work of our hearts, whose like we shall never make again' (86).

Today I was discussing these passages with my friend, Richard Rohlin, of the Amon-Sûl podcast at www.ancientfaith.com. As we were talking it occurred to me that, while it might seem odd to think of Sauron as having a heart, especially one that ever rests, he did put so much of his power into making the One Ring that its destruction was virtually his own. So there is a certain analogy here.