LotR -- Book 1 - Chapter 11 - A Knife in the Dark

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

This chapter, in addition to being wonderfully suspenseful and – for my money – the “real” beginning of the Quest, explores an important idea in LotR: knowledge and awareness. More specifically, this whole chapter is organised, in a way, around the question of who knows or is aware of what.

At the ‘higher end’ of this spectrum, we have Elrond who, as Aragorn tells us, is the only living being (in Middle Earth) who knows the full tale of the Lay of Luthien. Aragorn, however, knows at the very least a good chunk of it himself; what is more, he knows that he is part of that story – more specifically that his life is going to provide the end of the story. In effect, he knows that “the end is not known” and thus that it is up to him to give that tale an ending: be it good or bad. Aragorn and Elrond are related to one another in this way: Elrond knows the tale, but as an outsider – it’s not his story. Aragorn knows that the story is not just about him, but the story of his life and existence. He doesn’t just know or see history (the Tale), he is aware of his place in it.

The other fragment of lore we have is Sam’s song of Gil-Galad. Interestingly, when he finishes it he says:

'There was a lot more,' said Sam, 'all about Mordor. I didn't learn that part, it gave me the shivers. I never thought I should be going that way myself!'
'Going to Mordor!' cried Pippin. 'I hope it won't come to that!'
'Do not speak that name so loudly!' said Strider.

Here, Sam is being compared to Aragorn (fittingly, since they are the two heroes whose journeys are the most similar – toward their wives). Like Aragorn he is aware of the story he’s in, and what’s more, he’s aware that the story is his own – he realises that he is on the road to Mordor (which is fascinating since apparently nobody else knows this until the Council of Elrond?). At the same time, Sam acknowledges that he “didn’t learn that part” about Mordor: unlike Aragorn, there are parts of the story (that he’s now caught in) that he doesn’t want to know about. He’s more intuitive than anything else – realisation without understanding. Aragorn does understand, perhaps all too well, for he is afraid even to mention the name of Mordor. Remember how the people of Bree are able to be happy only by being kept unaware of their danger. And Aragorn intentionally hides the identities of the Nazgûl from the hobbits for fear that the knowledge would scare them too much. Aragorn has no such luxury – he knows the full extent of the darkness and the danger.

Pippin demonstrates another response, distinct from Aragorn (who knows too much?) and Sam (who knows more than he wants to?). When Pippin cries out that he hopes they won’t have to go to Mordor, he shows off his innocence and his naïveté – he doesn’t want to know about the darkness, thank you very much.

This brings me to Frodo, who I think is moving from a Pippin state (innocence), into an Aragorn state (experience), via a Sam state (intuition):

They stood for a while silent on the hill-top, near its southward edge. In that lonely place Frodo for the first time full realized his homelessness and danger. He wished bitterly that his fortune had left him in the quiet of the beloved Shire. He stared down at the hateful Road, leading back westward – to his home. Suddenly he was aware that two black specks were moving slowly along it, going westward; and looking again he saw that three others were creeping eastward to meet them. He gave a cry and clutched Strider's arm.

The first thing Frodo realises is “his homelessness and danger.” This defines what Aragorn’s whole life has been; in this way, Frodo is recognising that he is now entering into a world of experience beyond “the quiet of the beloved Shire” that Sam will eventually be able to return to and enjoy. This recognition comes when he sees the Black Riders on the Road; this is painfully true – the shadows of Mordor have taken over the Road of his life and existence, casting him out of the Shire (Sam’s state) and into the wilderness (Aragorn’s). It is this kind of awareness and recognition that Pippin does not have, insofar as he does not ‘see’ the Riders; in fact, of all the hobbits, he has the least to do with them.

Which brings me to Merry who, as we’ve already been saying, has a lot to do with the Nazgûl. Throughout this chapter Merry is once more taking care of practical matters. He is the one who asks Aragorn about the meaning of the sign left by Gandalf; he's the one who comments on the lack of shelter food and water at Weathertop; he's the one who asks Aragorn how far to Rivendell. In this sense, he if very much, I think, the practical/pragmatic version of Frodo. He's also looking at the Road, but in terms of how they are going to traverse it.

So there are some interesting patterns between the characters here, I think. On the one hand are Frodo and Merry, the hobbits who are looking to the Road (the present?). On the other are Sam and Pippin, who are looking, or not looking, toward the end of the Road: Mordor (the future?). Aragorn seems to have the only ‘all around’ view – he is aware of the past, aware of the dangers in the present, and aware of his potential future, both good and bad.

If any of this holds water, isn’t it fitting that this chapter takes place upon a hill with a long and panoramic view of Middle-Earth? (I second davem on the power of this moment: I still catch my breath at the description of the lands about the hill – it really is the first moment at which Middle-Earth fully comes alive in the book).