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Saturday, April 27, 2019

Fear and Wonder and Lasting Delight

We all have biases.  It's important to acknowledge them and investigate where they come from.  Biases aren't bad, but they can lead us down bad roads if we are not careful.  We should be vigilant.  We should be able to judge things fairly, even if we have a bias.

And yet I cannot deny it.  Faramir, Boromir's brother, whom we meet in this week's double-portion, is my favorite character in the series.  Bar none.  I wish I could explain why.  There isn't really any attribute about him that's unique.  I just greatly enjoy reading his part in the story.

This week's chapters are "Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbits" and "The Window on the West."  On their way to Gollum's secret entrance to Mordor the hobbits are captured by a group of men.  Gollum happens to be away looking for food and so is not caught.  Their captain, Faramir, questions them to learn what they are doing so close to Mordor.  He's never met a hobbit before - he calls them 'halflings' - and is suspicious.

Though he keeps the details of the Quest to himself, Frodo reveals the names of those in the Fellowship in a token of good will.  Maybe Faramir will have heard these names and will know Frodo is on his side.  When he names Boromir, Faramir reveals he is his brother.  Frodo becomes uneasy - the last time he saw Boromir things went poorly.

The meeting is interrupted.  Faramir and his men, of course, are out in the wilderness for their own reason.  They are ambushing troops rallying to Sauron.  The enemy is approaching the ambush site, and so Faramir must attend to the battle.  Frodo and Sam must wait.

Sam hears the sounds of the battle and grows curious.  He crawls to a ledge and looks down into the wooded valley, where the battle is being fought.


To his astonishment and terror, and lasting delight, Sam saw a vast
shape crash out of the trees and come careering down the slope. Big as a house,
much bigger than a house, it looked to him, a grey-clad moving hill.

Sam has seen what he has longed to see: An oliphaunt (A huge elephant).  And he is filled with "astonishment and terror".  The text later adds "Fear and wonder".

What a strange mix of feelings.  Usually we consider being scared to be only negative.  But there is a certain thrill that comes with being afraid, isn't there?  Everyone processes the experience differently - there are horror movie junkies who seek out the best scares, and then there are people like me, who celebrate Halloween by watching this silly music video and this old animated telling of Sleepy Hollow.  And both give me enough goosebumps to last until the next year.

The text makes a point of describing the positive and the negative twice. 'Astonishment and terror' and 'fear and wonder'.  The Creative Wizard is saying the pairs come together, and that the feelings are similar.  Astonishment and wonder are both related to the idea of seeing something awe-inspiring.  Seeing the Grand Canyon in person, or a celebrity you really like in person, or going on a successful first date.  All these things can stop us in our track and make us dumbstruck.

And yet terror and fear also strikes us dumbstruck - though we're more likely to say we have been petrified.  The result nonetheless looks the same.  We are frozen to the spot, our mind can't think straight, words fail us.  Fear and wonder look the same.

I think this is because both have the effect of making us feel small.  When one is afraid, one feels powerless and vulnerable.  When one is astonished, one feels powerless and over-awed.  I imagine it is similar to how storm chasers feel when they finally catch "the big one".  One must both be in awe of an F5 tornado AND one must be terrified of it.  To only have one feeling is to underappreciate the situation.

But there is one more riddle to attend to.  We are told Sam also feels delight.  But not simply delight - "lasting delight."  That tells us the delight, whether immediate or not, endures long after the incident has passed.  I think the delight derives from the fact that Sam survives the encounter unscathed.  The thrill of the fear and of the wonder both enhance the memory.  It becomes a story for him to tell, a story no other Hobbit has.  He can share it with others and he can reminisce privately.

Many years ago I was part of a protest in Los Angeles.  I marched with Black Panthers, blocked a highway, ran from the police, and helped repair a fence that had gotten knocked down.  I felt both fear and wonder - I got the thrill both from "doing the right thing" as well as from the danger inherent in defying authority.  I wouldn't have called the experience delightful, but it has given me "lasting delight."

A mundane life is respectable: work to pay the bills, use your free time in enjoyable if repetitive ways.  There's nothing wrong with any of that.  But the best memories we can build come when we push those boundaries.  There's nothing mundane about a protest and there's nothing mundane about an oliphaunt.  No one on their deathbed wishes they had had less adventures.


The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.


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Monday, April 22, 2019

Just do it!

This week's chapter is called "The Black Gate is Closed."  Our heroes have arrived at the gate of Mordor!  But it is a extremely dangerous place.  Not only is it heavily guarded, but troops rallying to Sauron are marching through and being let in.  This would be a dangerous place to stage an attack - it seems hopeless for anyone trying to sneak by.  But Frodo stays true to his task.

When he tells Smeagol he intends to enter, Smeagol begs him not to.  Frodo insists he must.  Smeagol (Who doesn't know why Frodo is going) says if Frodo must go to Mordor, maybe he could give the Ring to Smeagol first.  Nevertheless, Frodo persists.

Smeagol then reveals he knows another way into Mordor, not one so obvious.  When pressed why he hadn't mentioned it before, Smeagol says he would have if anyone had told him the goal was to enter Mordor.  But Frodo had said to bring him to the gate, and nothing more.  A bit pedantic, but if Smeagol is as obsessed with the Ring as we're led to believe it isn't unimaginable he didn't consider why they'd want to go to the gate.

No matter.  Smeagol says another way exists, a staircase built into the southern border of Mordor which he found.  Sam, of course, is unsure, but Frodo says,

`Sméagol, I will trust you once more. lndeed it seems that I must do so, and that it is
my fate to receive help from you, where I least looked for it, and your fate to help me
whom you long pursued with evil purpose. So far you have deserved well of me and have kept
your promise truly. Truly, I say and mean,' he added with a glance at Sam, 'for twice now we
have been in your power, and you have done no harm to us. Nor have you tried to take from me
what you once sought. May the third time prove the best! But I warn you, Sméagol, you are in danger.'

`Yes, yes, master! ' said Gollum. `Dreadful danger! Sméagol's bones 
shake to think of it. but he doesn't run away. He must help nice master.'

'I did not mean the danger that we all share,' said Frodo. 'I mean a danger to
yourself alone. You swore a promise by what you call the Precious. Remember that! It will
hold you to it; but it will seek a way to twist it to your own undoing. Already you are
being twisted. You revealed yourself to me just now, foolishly. Give it back to Sméagol you said.
Do not say that again! Do not let that thought grow in you! You will never get it back.
But the desire of it may betray you to a bitter end. You will never get it back.
In the last need, Sméagol, I should put on the Precious; and the Precious mastered you long ago.
If I, wearing it, were to command you, you would obey, even if it were to leap from a
precipice or to cast yourself into the fire. And such would be my command. So have a care, Sméagol!

In this book we are seeing Frodo in a new light.  Throughout Fellowship he remained a reluctant adventurer - slowly learning the true danger of his Quest.  While Frodo never wanted this Quest, and perhaps lacked the characteristics of an adventurer, he has since developed them.  But with this knowledge Frodo grows a sense of responsibility.  He is still reluctant, in the sense he doesn't relish the Quest, but he is committed to its completion.  Frodo will go to Mount Doom.  Nothing can stop him.

Many times in our lives we grow into our responsibilities.  While "Dress for the job you want" and "Fake it till you make it" are great pieces of advice, it requires a bit of foresight.  You have to know the job you want.  To fake it, you need to know what you should be imitating.  These sort of things aren't always possible.  They also focus on the future, not on the present.

In September 2010 I moved to Alaska, where I knew no one.  Well, I knew two people - in the most literal sense: my employer and my roommate.  By the time I left Alaska almost 2 years later I had a significant network of friends and colleagues that I still keep in touch with.

While I've always consider myself friendly, I had never needed to use my friendliness.  I made friends in school and in college the same as everyone else - social osmosis.  But in Alaska I really needed to make friends.  I needed to reach out.  My roommate was kind enough to bring me into her circle of friends.  I also called the number on a posting at the local gaming store for a game group.  They warmly welcomed me in.  If you had asked me before I moved how to make new friends I wouldn't have had any idea how.  Now I know:

  • Go to events that interest you, you will meet like-minded people there.
  • Friendship is different than shared interest, so talk to as many people there until you find some people where things really click.
  • Friendship is based on shared experiences more than shared interest.  Keep going to these events and be a participant.
  • Be patient.  It will take longer than you want to go from acquaintance to familiar face to friend.
  • A bit of good luck (I cannot imagine how I would have fared in Alaska if I hadn't gotten the roommate I ended up, whom I happened to meet through Craigslist).
Nothing helps us in solving problems as much as need.  "Necessity is the mother of invention" applies to all cases.  If you are facing a situation, and you don't know how best to address it, it is likely possible that the best thing to do is to force yourself to deal with it.  The ability to delay can be detrimental.

Before I moved to Alaska I lived in Gloucester, and I was miserable.  I had a hard time making friends, but I didn't have much motivation - Boston wasn't that far away.  But my friends didn't like making the drive up to me, and I didn't always want to make the drive down to see them.  I split my attention between new friends and old friends, and the result was misery.  Throwing myself to the other side of the country solved my problem by forcing me to face it, with no other recourse.

Frodo is still Frodo - he is still reluctant and trusting and hates to endanger his friends.  To grow we do not need to change who we are.  But we need to be willing to respond to the needs of the moment.  Books and classes and tutorials are important ways to learn, but experience teaches like nothing else.

The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!

Saturday, April 13, 2019

Doing and Also Appreciating

There was a deep silence, only scraped on its surfaces by the faint quiver of empty seed-plumes, and broken grass-blades trembling in small air-movements that they could not feel.
'Not a bird! ' said Sam mournfully.
`No, no birds,' said Gollum. `Nice birds! ' He licked his teeth. 'No birds here. There are snakeses, wormses, things in the pools. Lots of things, lots of nasty things. No birds,' he ended sadly. Sam looked at him with distaste.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This week we read "The Passage Of the Marshes."  In it, Gollum carefully leads Frodo and Sam through the Dead Marshes, a stinking swamp filled with the dead faces of men, elves, and orcs.  He has proven to be a good guide, and by the end they are very close to the Black Gate of Mordor.

This chapter has a lot of interaction between Sam and Gollum - sometimes Sam pities Gollum, sometimes he is suspicious of him, and other times he downright hates him.  Sam and Gollum are quite different personalities and they are destined to conflict.

The above quote I think highlights a key difference between them.  Sam misses the birds because of the sounds they make; they bring life to a place.  A place with no birds is a lonely place.  Gollum, meanwhile, misses birds only because he wants to eat them.  Generally speaking, Gollum hates other creatures.  He sees them only as something he can use to his advantage.  Otherwise, they're just in the way.

Of course, we ought to be like Sam.  But it can be difficult to appreciate beauty with so much pressure around us to be productive.  Many of us see spare time as wasted time.  Worse yet, spare time is when depression or OCD or other mental illnesses can spike.  By being busy and viewing the world as a thing to use and be useful to we can occupy so much of our mental space that we don't leave room for anything else.  It is a good defense.  But that locked door works on everything.  It keeps the demons at bay, but it also locks out the light.

We all have a Gollum and a Sam in each of us.  A part of us that seeks out productivity and another that wants to appreciate.  But they can easily come into conflict.  I'm sure we've all reflected on a productive week and thought "I accomplished a lot of stuff but I don't think I enjoyed much of it."  Like the characters in the book, these two parts of ourselves look at each other with distaste.  In a story, that's good conflict.  In a single person that can be toxic.

March was a very busy month for me.  As an educator, March is usually dreadful.  No vacation and no three day weekend, plus the weather is usually awful.  I get run down and my students get run down, both of which require me to work harder to accomplish the same goals.

I was busy, and I usually I like being busy (Because, fortunately, I do like my job), but I also felt a bit out of control.  I was doing well at my job but it wasn't "for me".  It wasn't quite burnout, but I felt my job was taking over my life.  I didn't have much free time to do what I wanted.  What little free time I had needed to be dedicated to recovery, since I'd soon be back at work again.

Now it is April, and I am fortunate to have nearly two weeks off (Because Passover begins right as school vacation ends).  I could stay home for two weeks, playing video games and board games and reading, but that's what I did during my free time in March.  As I said, that was mostly recovery.  It didn't feel good so much as therapeutic.  It helped me cope with the busy-ness.  But we should strive to not merely cope with life but to enjoy it.

So I've decided to do some hiking.  It's a bit cold in April for hiking, but better than March, and if I don't do it now I'll have to wait until June for another break.  Hopefully, being outdoors will give me a chance to appreciate life in a way I haven't been able to.

Unlike Sam and Gollum, there is a way for our two voices to live in harmony.  Our Gollum can drive us to succeed and can remind us we sometimes must do unpleasant things to reach that success.  Once our Gollum is sated, our Sam can help us enjoy what we have achieved, and revel in the success.  Instead of running off too quickly for the next victory, we should take a break from the work.  This better allows us to enjoy life.  And then, when we're back to "the grind," we can know what we're working towards: Another moment of accomplishment and peace.


The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!

Saturday, April 6, 2019

Elven Magic

This week we begin book four, which brings us back to Sam and Frodo on their way toward Mordor.  Last we saw them they had taken a boat and left the crumbling Fellowship behind.  At the beginning of this chapter, called The Taming of Sméagol, we find them wandering around Emyn Muil, a collection of rocky hills known for their labyrinthine layout and sheer cliffs.  Sam and Frodo have been lost in this region for days.  They begin to despair of ever getting out.

The delay allows Gollum, who has been tracking the fellowship since Moria, to catch up with them.  Gollum, recall, owned the Ring for centuries before losing it to Bilbo.  It was difficult enough for Bilbo to part with it - it has proven impossible for Gollum.

Though Gollum is able to track them down, Sam and Frodo see him and attack.  They are able to defeat him - but he surrenders before they kill him.  Unwilling to commit murder, Frodo offers a deal: If Gollum will lead them out of Emyn Muil, they will let him live.  But Gollum takes the deal a step further, swearing to serve "the master of the Precious."  He is now bound to Frodo.  And thus Gollum, AKA Sméagol, is tamed.

This chapter has a couple of instances of Elven Magic, an important aspect throughout our text that we've generally skimmed over.  The Creative Wizard never explicitly explains how Elven magic works (he believed stories were better when some things remained unexplained), and so it is difficult to delve too deeply into it.  But just because information is sparse doesn't mean Elven magic is impossible to understand.  Indeed, what little the text says of Elven magic can, if all these details are brought together, tell a coherent - if still incomplete - story.

The main magical subject of this chapter is the Elvish rope the hobbits use when climbing the cliffs.  The rope is from Lorien - Galadriel gave it to Sam.  Here are the magical things it does:
  • Frodo, having fallen suddenly while climbing, cannot see.  Whether he is temporarily blinded or in an impenetrable darkness is left unclear.  Sam lowers down to Frodo.  The text says "The darkness seemed to lift from Frodo's eyes, or else his sight was returning. He could see the grey line as it came dangling down, and he thought it had a faint silver sheen."
  • Sam ties the rope so they can both climb down a cliff.  When they're down, he realizes the rope is now stuck, tied at the top of the cliff, and must be left behind.  After some despair, he yanks the rope once "as if in farewell."  To his surprise, the whole rope comes tumbling down the rock wall.  Sam says "I think the rope came off itself - when I called."
  • Gollum cannot bear the touch of the rope when it is tied around him.  "'It hurts us, it hurts us,' hissed Gollum. `It freezes, it bites! Elves twisted it, curse them! Nasty cruel hobbits! That's why we tries to escape, of course it is, precious. We guessed they were cruel hobbits. They visits Elves, fierce Elves with bright eyes. Take it off us! It hurts us.'"
The rope clearly has magical qualities.  Well, magic may be the wrong word.  The Elves don't consider it magic.  In Fellowship, Galadriel says this to Sam when she shows him and Frodo her mirror:
"For this is what your folk would call magic. I believe; though I do not
understand clearly what they mean; and they seem also to use the same
word of the deceits of the Enemy. But this, if you will, is the magic of Galadriel."

Gandalf does magic.  He speaks spells.  The Elves don't do this.  That rope is shining, but there isn't an Elf around for miles.  It seems the Elves, and the things they create, are magic.  Legolas can see significantly farther than anyone else in the Fellowship because, well, I'm not sure how to explain it, and neither does this post.  It's just true.

I think the best comparison is to the agents in the Matrix.  The agents aren't magical.  They're strength doesn't come from knowledge or skills - it comes from their existence.  They can manipulate everything within the Matrix because they are part of it.  Perhaps the Elves are like this, too.

To quote author Robert A. Heinlein, "One man's 'magic' is another man's engineering."  The Elves may be in touch with Middle Earth in a way the other races are unable to be.  When leaving Lorien, Galadriel gives Frodo a phial which "caught the light of Erandil's star."  This isn't a metaphor.  Somehow the star (or at least it's light) is contained in that phial.  At least, I think.

I wonder if, to the Elves, all the other races are just lacking.  The Elves aren't better - the others are just worse.  That could explain their disdainful view of most mortals, even those who are "good guys".  It's like that person who is such an expert in something they don't even realize how dismissive they are to novices.  It doesn't even occur to them anymore that their level of knowledge is exceptional.

The Elves are leaving Middle Earth.  I am becoming convinced this is good.  The Elves have overstayed their welcome and will come into conflict with the others.  The Quest succeeds largely because of other races - and that they work together.  The Elves cannot help but get in the way.

An obvious difference between the Elves and the Agents are that the Agents are evil - they exist to enforce the Matrix.  The Elves are good, but perhaps they are too good.  The Elves see all progress as undermining Middle Earth's essential properties.  For only slightly different reasons, it is impossible for the Agents and the Elves to coexist with autonomous humans.

The agents see human autonomy as a threat to their rule.  The Agents keep down the humans so they do not become free.  Conflict is inevitable, and only one side can remain.

The Elves see human autonomy as inherently worse than what they could come up with.  It might be difficult to sit by and watch Middle Earth, in their perception, fade.  Conflict is inevitable, and only one side can remain.

The Elves, caught between their own perfection and yet a desire to care for Middle Earth's future, realize they must leave.  As noted above, a time for cooperation among Middle Earth's peoples is coming, and the Elves are too superior for that.  They need to leave, and they know it.

But when the Elves leave, they will take their magic, their engineering, their deep knowledge of the workings of Middle Earth with them.  Starlight will remain in the sky, out of reach.  There will be no more Rings of Power.  Human monarchs will make errors inconceivable for an Elvish ruler.  But that's the price of social progress.  Starlight is nice and all, but cooperation and equality is more practical.  The Elves will take their engineering, but Middle Earth will persevere.

I will leave you with a question that has been bouncing around my head all week.  Social progress is a moral good.  But we also know that the Elves are, truly, better than all the other races on Middle Earth.  Is it possible to be "better" but also morally worse?  If so, what does it mean that to achieve morality we must, at least sometimes, diminish ourselves?


The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!