On Fighting Monsters

This week's chapter is called "The Passage of the Marshes."  Frodo and Sam, led by Smeagol, are shown through a mysterious and dangerous marsh.  "More difficult, not so quick; but better, if we don't want Him to see.  Follow Smeagol!"

In December we learned how Sam was a dutiful friend and companion to Frodo.  As the two trudge on towards Mordor, now with Smeagol as their guide, Sam's duty towards Frodo becomes more complicated.  Sam does not trust Smeagol, knowing some (and guessing the rest) of his treacherous past.  Frodo, meanwhile, has more sympathy towards him.

In the previous chapter, we have a flashback.  Gollum had been watching them from a cliff but fell.  Sam tackled Gollum, but Gollum outmaneuvered him and bit his shoulder. Frodo drew Sting and threatened Gollum, which stopped the fight.  Gollum begs for mercy while Sam insists, if they leave Gollum alive, he'll try to kill them later.

[Frodo] paused for a while in thought.  Gollum lay still, but

stopped whimpering. Sam stood glowering over him.

It seemed to Frodo then that he heard, quite plainly but far off, voices out of the past:

"What a pity Bilbo did not stab the vile creature when he had a chance!"

"Pity?  It was Pity that stayed his hand.  Pity and Mercy:  not to strike without need."

"I do not feel any pity for Gollum.  He deserves death."

"Deserves death!  I daresay he does.  Many that live deserve death.  And some die

that deserve life.  Can you give that to them?  Then be not too eager to deal out

death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety.  Even the wise cannot ses all ends."

"Very well," he answered aloud, lowering his sword.  "But still I am afraid.

And yet, as you see, I will not touch the creature.  For now that I see him, I do pity him."

Sam stared at his master, who seemed to be speaking to someone who was not there.

Frodo is recalling a conversation he had with Gandalf back in the Shire.  He did not believe Gandalf then, that Gollum would inspire so much pity that it might stay his hand as it did Bilbo's, but evidently he undertstands now.   Perhaps his adventure has taught him to be less hasty in his choices.  How often have we sworn things would be different "If we were in charge," only to get in charge, and realize the naivety and arrogance of our former self?

Sam, however is still suspicious.  He is mistrusts Smeagol's kindness.  The kinder Smeagol is, the faker it appears.  And when Smeagol ever does slip back into his old ways, Sam will insist he hasn't changed at all, and that he's been pretending this whole time, and only now he's shown his true colors.  But Sam's suspicions are even deeper than that.  He doesn't just judge Smeagol's actions harshly; His suspicions begin to affect his own actions.

In this chapter, the three have found a place to rest.  Frodo and Gollum fall asleep.  Sam, however, watches Gollum.  He is not watching the surrounding area for incoming threats - he is focused solely on Gollum.  He refuses to fall asleep, worried Gollum will kill him when he does - that he is only pretending to be asleep, waiting for a chance to strike.  So suspicious is he that he goes to Gollum and begins speaking directly into his ear.  Gollum does not sit.  The text tells us: "Sam scratched his head.  'Must really be asleep,' he muttered, 'And if I was like Gollum , he wouldn't wake up never again.'  He restrained the thoughts of his sword and the rope that sprang to his mind."

When I read that, I was immediately reminded of this quote from Nietzche, "Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you."  Here is Sam, who up to this point has been very dedicated to all of his companions, considering murdering one in his sleep.  Of course, Smeagol is also a prisoner, but cold murder is still extreme for a gardener who, at the start of the story, was afraid of Gandalf's wrath.  What pushed him to this point?

There are many times we have to stand up to "monsters."  Perhaps your boss always gives you the least desirable shifts.  Maybe trolls ruin your online gaming experiences.  Maybe your partner is cruel to you.  Maybe bureaucratic red tape is getting in the way of your pursuit of justice.  Maybe someone always takes your lunch out of the office fridge.  Maybe society is pressuring you to follow a lifestyle that makes you unhappy.  There are lots of variations.  And while some of those I've listed are objectively more terrible than others, there's no need to belittle a person's struggle.  We all face "monsters."

When we do, before we confront them, I think it is important to take a step back.  Before fighting the monster, we must know who is fighting the monster.  It is us, of course - but what does that mean?  What sort of tactics will we use, and are there any that are off limits?  Are we going to be brutal and ruthless like a Game of Thrones character, or are we going to be like Ghandi and Martin Luther King, strongly limiting our own options in the name of righteousness.  Neither is better or worse - but we benefit greatly from clarifying to ourselves who we are in this battle.  I say "in this battle" because the tactics we choose can change from one fight to another.  If someone cuts me in line at the bank, I am going to react in a much more restrained manner than if someone grabs my wallet and runs.  Different monsters require different solutions.

But know who you are, and what your limits are.  Your enemy will fight with their own limits, or perhaps none at all.  They may act in ways that will seem unfair to you.  They may win by these unfair means.  But watch your reaction to this.  Do their unfair actions give you justification to act unfairly?  Does "But s/he started it!" wipe away your earlier plan to use certain tactics and respect certain limits?  What happens if you abandon your predetermined tactics and limits?  Is it possible that, even though you won the battle, you have lost a part of yourself?

Of course, I see things like this all the time with my students.  One of them is mean, and the other reacts meanly, but then is surprised when they both get in trouble.  "But s/he started it!"  One phrase I find very helpful is this:  "You were right - they should not have acted like that.  I'm sorry they did.  You were right to feel angry.  But the way you acted made you wrong, too."  You were right to be upset by what they did - but how you handled it was wrong.  It separates their indignation (which is usually legitimate) from their reaction (which often isn't).  It says "I am not faulting you for feeling upset - I am faulting you for what you did with that feeling."  Very much in line with  Mister Rogers' famous question, "What do you do with the mad that you feel?" Feeling mad and hurt is OK - but what do you do with it?

What do you do when you're not winning, or when the monster fights unfairly.  Do you lose with the integrity of the promise you made to yourself intact?  Or do you break it.  And what is the cost of that choice?

Ultimately, Sam does not act viciously.  He does not become the monster he is trying to defeat, though he considers it.  Well, on second thought, he does not.  The text says: "He restrained the thoughts of his sword and the rope that sprang to his mind."  It is almost as if these are not his own thoughts, at least not consciously.  So what is it?  If they "sprang to his mind," where did they spring from?  What, as we asked before, pushes him to this point.

It is an emotional reaction.  The ideas come from a place of emotion.  We all have those kinds of thoughts - those motivated out of fear and pain and frustration .  We all have those emotional reactions.  But we need to try to be like Sam, who has the thought, has the means (his sword and rope), and has the opportunity (Smeagol is sleeping), but still restrains himself.  It is not because he trusts Smeagol any more than he had.  It is because he wanted to be better than him.  What good is defeating a monster if, in the process, you become one?