LotR -- Book 2 - Chapter 02 - The Council of Elrond

[Aiwendil]

Davem wrote:

Morgoth was the first to ‘break the White Light, when he destroyed the Lamps, & the single, unbroken, light was lost to Middle earth. Then the Light was split into Gold & Silver, in the Two Trees, Telperion & Laurelin& was no longer constant, but fluctuated.

This is an interesting observation, and it brings up another point. In the ages of the Sun, the ages of the Trees take on a kind of "lost utopia" connotation. We hear a lot about how the light of the Sun and the Moon is tainted while the untainted light of the Trees is preserved only in the Silmarils; the Second Prophecy of Mandos tells that at the end of the world the Trees will be rekindled. But we hear almost nothing of the Lamps. Neither is there much of a sense, during the time of the Trees, of a lost utopia, nor is there any suggestion that, even in Messianic days, the Lamps will be remade. The light of the Trees is never unfavorably compared to the light of the Lamps. I wonder why. One possible explanation is simply that since these are Elvish myths (or Elvish-based Numenorean myths) they recall the golden age of the Elves rather than the earlier, Elf-less age. But I wonder if that is the whole story.

But where does this desire to break the Light come from? What is the purpose of breaking it? Well, the more it is broken down, the weaker it gets, because the Light originally was One, single, whole. the movement is from holism to fragmentation.

I'm not sure that the original or fundamental motivation is to make the light weaker. Rather, I think we must take Gandalf's quote quite literally:

And he that breaks a thing to find out what it is made of has left the path of wisdom.

Why break the light? To find out what it is. Saruman originally desired knowledge (and skill). Like all things in Middle-earth, he began with intentions that were not evil.

Now Melkor certainly was acting out of malice when he destroyed the Lamps, as when he destroyed the Trees. But when he first broke something - the song of the Ainur - it was out of a desire to create for himself.

It is this power of division, of estrangement that gives Sauron his real chance of winning victory.

This brings up another interesting point I've been thinking about. Haldir comments on the power of the Dark Lord to cause estrangement among his enemies. But when one thinks about LotR as a whole, one is struck by the degree to which the opponents of Sauron work together - in fact, it is often dissension among Sauron's forces that allows victory. So on the one hand we have Elves, Dwarves, Men, and Hobbits all taking counsel together, the Rohirrim fulfilling their oath to Gondor, the Dead Men of Dunharrow fulfilling their oath to Isildur, the Ents coming forth to war, the Woses assisting the Rohirrim, etc. And on the other the fight between Grishnakh and Ugluk, the fight between Gorbag and Shagrat, the Snaga's reluctance to search for Sam and Frodo, Saruman's betrayal of Sauron.

It is, rather, in the Silmarillion that we see the power of evil to divide good - there we have Noldor slaughtering Teleri, Dwarves sacking Menegroth, Thingol refusing to send forces to the Nirnaeth, Maeglin betraying Gondolin, etc., while Morgoth's forces seem extraordinarily well-organized and disciplined.

What's the significance of this? I'm not entirely sure. But it does underline a difference in tone between the two - the Silmarillion is far more tragic (though I wouldn't quite call it a tragedy). LotR, while not lacking in tragedy of its own, is on the whole more clearly a happy story, a "comedy" in the old sense.

[davem]

I suppose its a question of intent - why does Saruman want to know what the light is made of, & what makes him think that once he's broken it he can do anything with it?

Is he, & Morgoth really driven by a desire to create or simply a desire to manipulate, to 're-make the world in his own image'? Whatever, what all three of them do, Saruman, Morgoth & Sauron, is to break, divide, drive apart, & I do think its significant that its the females in the story who symbolise healing, unification, eros values generally. Its quite interesting that the Lamps were made by Aule, & are constructions, in a sense, machines, that the Trees are brought to life by Yavanna, & are living , growing things, & the Silmarils, & the Rings, are 'machines', as are the Palantiri, so we have a 'male' approach, manufacture of 'things', & a 'female' approach' of bringing into being living things. (Yes, I know we have Galadriel's phial & Aule's creation of the Dwarves, but we'll leave them on one side for the moment!).

The male approach seems to be to to break things into their component parts, from which new things can be made, according to the desire of the maker, & the female approach of 'giving birth', literally or symbolically, to living things.

(Too short, but I'm sneaking this on at work!)

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Very interesting thoughts on the nature of fragmentation and unity at the council – but an interesting point in response is that there are no women at the council, and yet by the end of it, the talk comes round to unanimity amongst the men: some may not be very happy with the decision to throw the Ring into the fire (Boromir), but all agree that this is the course of action to undertake.

I read this chapter as an exercise in comparison between Frodo and Boromir. Both of them have had long journeys to Rivendell, and both have been “called” by the same event – Isildur’s Bane has been discovered. No other person is there for this precise reason (the hobbits have come for love of Frodo, Aragorn to protect Frodo and achieve his own success thereby): only Frodo and Boromir have come in direct response to the Ring’s re-emergence in history (even Gandalf is there to explain Saruman and the threat that he poses). This is only apt insofar as the Fellowship will be broken when Boromir tries to take the Ring from Frodo, of course.

Boromir’s and Frodo’s manner and tone at the council could not be more different. Boromir boasts about the greatness of his land, and of his own prowess as a warrior and leader. Frodo feels how small his land is – if still precious to him – and how weak he is. Boromir brags about the difficulties he came through (a lost horse and getting wet…poor dear). Frodo lets others praise him for his heroic effort in surviving the Black Riders, and is even a little embarrassed by their praise. Boromir wants to keep the Ring, Frodo wants to give it up. Most importantly, however, Boromir is sure of what should be done, Frodo is not. It’s with this relationship that the role and nature of “counsel” is really brought out in this chapter. As has already been noted, this whole chapter is one long discussion about what to do, but this is far from the only example of such events in Middle-Earth. The heroes all “take counsel” before any important decision – it’s the evil characters who do not “take counsel” and decide for themselves (and others) what will be done. In this, Boromir’s reluctant acceptance of the council’s decision is telling: he has within him the same high-regard for his own opinion as does Sauron and Saruman, but he is sufficiently aware of his duty to accept the decision of the council.

Frodo is an interesting mirror of this. He accepts the decision of the counsel, but he is – like Boromir – unsure of that decision. Not that it isn’t the right one, but he has (understandably) great reservations about the decision with regards to himself. Like Boromir, he is forced into a position in which he undertakes a journey that is not the one he wants to undertake. Of course, the crucial distinction between these two is in their sense of which way to go: Boromir is certain of the path they should take – to Minas Tirith. Frodo, famously, “does not know the way.”

It’s in this “taking counsel” that I think Tolkien demonstrates a mode of heroic action and even of wisdom that is rare, even in his imitators. The decision to undertake the quest to Mount Doom is not one that a single person comes up with and then convinces the others is best. It is a decision jointly achieved by the group. This is far more than a ‘consensus building exercise’ by a committee, though. Instead, it is a group of divided peoples who through discussion, dialogue and disagreement manage to find their way to wisdom – this is the precise opposite of Sauron who decides for himself (and others) what wisdom will be. Saruman too.

[Aiwendil]

Davem wrote:

I suppose its a question of intent - why does Saruman want to know what the light is made of, & what makes him think that once he's broken it he can do anything with it?

Is he, & Morgoth really driven by a desire to create or simply a desire to manipulate, to 're-make the world in his own image'?

Surely Saruman did not begin with the intent to dominate. We are told that he was once great and noble. His original purpose in studying Ring-lore was surely that he and the others would know to deal with their enemy's weapons. By the time he broke the white light and became Saruman of Many Colours he had changed, and I'm sure that by that point his desire to know had been transmuted into a desire to control. Those desires are really quite connected. I'm not sure that I can draw a distinction, for example, between my desire to understand how computers work and my desire to better control my own computer. And conversely, the best way to learn about computers is sometimes to sit down and spend some time trying to control one. I also think it's natural to think that breaking something will help one to learn about it. If I wanted to learn how a clock works, one thing I could do is to take apart a clock - and I can be reasonably sure that after doing that I will know a lot more about clocks than I do now. The trouble is, I won't know what time it is.

Its quite interesting that the Lamps were made by Aule, & are constructions, in a sense, machines, that the Trees are brought to life by Yavanna, & are living , growing things, & the Silmarils, & the Rings, are 'machines', as are the Palantiri, so we have a 'male' approach, manufacture of 'things', & a 'female' approach' of bringing into being living things.

I don't think I would call this distinction male vs. female, at least not fundamentally. Certainly your examples have force. But I think they are reflective of a deeper distinction, that between artifice and nature. I think I pontificated about this a bit in one of the earlier chapter discussions (maybe in relation to Tom Bombadil). On the "artifice" side we have Aule, Saruman, Sauron, Feanor, the Noldor. On the "nature" side we have Ulmo, Radagast, Finarfin, the Sindar. The nature side is more traditionally feminine, and indeed we see a lot of women in that category and a lot of men in the other. But there are some males, Ulmo for example, that do not at all have the same artificial associations as Aule and the rest - in fact, the personalities of Aule and Ulmo are consistently contrasted. It's harder to think of women on the artifice side; Galadriel tends toward it a bit (and her mother name is Nerwen, "man maiden"). Also, I don't see Yavanna's creation of the Trees as entirely natural. She sings them into being, and song is the original artifice - but it may also be the least artificial artifice, as it is most closely in accord with Iluvatar (and indeed Ulmo is associated with music). Nevertheless, Yavanna's creation of the trees is in one place compared with Feanor's creation of the Silmarils:

Even for those who are mightiest under Iluvatar there is some work that they may accomplish once, and once only. The light of the Trees I brought into being, and within Ea I can do so never again (Yavanna).

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 (Feanor).

Edit: Cross-posting with Fordim, who makes some excellent observations. I wonder though how to reconcile Tolkien's presentation of debate and concensus as critical virtues with his apparent preference for monarchy.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Edit: Cross-posting with Fordim, who makes some excellent observations. I wonder though how to reconcile Tolkien's presentation of debate and concensus as critical virtues with his apparent preference for monarchy.

I don't think that it is at all hard to reconcile these positions. In fact, one of the things to emerge quite clearly during the Council is how good a ruler Aragorn will be. He makes his opinions clear, listens to other people, doesn't just boss people around, and helps the group arrive at a good decision. This will later (sorry to get ahead a bit Esty) be seen again at the council that Aragorn calls to decide what the lords of the West should do after their success at the Pelennor Fields. He could have just ordered people, but he doesn't do this.

Shakespeare's model of good kingship is, I think, appropriate here. In all of his plays, the 'good' king is the one who listens to the people, allows debate, encourages opinions and then makes a decision that takes all of these into account. His decision is final, but it is not one that he arrives at all on his own. It's Shakespeare's tyrants who simply decide what's best based on their own desires and impose that decision on others.

I think that Aragorn proves himself to be a great king at the Council. The odds are pretty good that he knows before they start talking what needs to be done with the Ring -- what his ancestor failed to do. At the same time, his decision to do this ("I will go with you") is NOT what he would personally want for himself (to head to Minas Tirith with Boromir to defend his kingdom and perhaps win Arwen).

[davem]

Perhaps its not so much 'male' vs 'female', as it is 'eros' vs 'logos'. Its interesting that Saruman at first attempts to use logic to win over Gandalf - the end justifies the means, 'we may regret what we have to do to win victory, but when we win we can rule the world properly', etc, & only when that fails do his emotions take over in a massive outburst of affect, he loses control & threatens & imprisons him. We see the same thing with all the enemies: they use cold hard logic to win over their foes, & when that doesn't work they lash out, as if they are not in control of their repressed emotions.

Just occurs, maybe Shelob could be seen as Sauron's repressed anima, his eros side, eating, consuming, drawing all things into itself.

Again, at the end we see what happens when Saruman has lost all chance of using logic (his 'voice') to win over his opponents - he simply lashes out with a knife to stab Frodo, which is a pathetic, sickening sight when we consider what he had been, a Maiar who sang in the Ainulindale as part of the choir of Ainur.

Ulmo is interesting, as he is always alone, which implies his logs & eros 'sides' were perfectly balanced.

All the heroes seem to be in touch with their 'feminine' sides, & its the ones who fail who choose logos over eros. Does this explain Frodo's failure? The heroes are in touch with their emotions, whether its Aragorn, Sam, Faramir, Galadriel, Eowyn (eventually), & the 'villains' are not - Boromir, Frodo, Sauron, Saruman, Grima.

I think what Gandalf is trying to warn Saruman against is this very repression of his feminine side, this approach of breaking rather than uniting, of manufacturing rather than creating. The opposition seems to be between building up & breaking down, creating & destroying, anabolism & catabolism. And it begins with Light & Language.

Every 'fall' is initiated in the choice of & manifests in the action of destruction, of breaking a thing - whatever the ('logical) reason & motivation (the desire) behind it.

Generally speaking logos dominates over eros in males & eros over logos in females, but that is certainly to over generalise. Perhaps its more correct to stress that males are more susceptible to uncontrolled logos values, & females perhaps to uncontrolled eros values, because we see the extreme of eros in Shelob & in what galadriel could become if she took the Ring - 'all shall love me & despair' - so she would be more powerful & more dangerous than Sauron, because Sauron's servants serve him out of fear only, while Galadriel's servants would serve her to the same extent or greater, but out of love (thanks again to Chausse).

[Aiwendil]

Davem wrote:

Perhaps its not so much 'male' vs 'female', as it is 'eros' vs 'logos'.

This is a good way of putting it. I think that perhaps this distinction is a little like that between yin and yang - it is a profound distinction, but a vague one. Logos, artifice, male vs. eros, nature, female.

Just occurs, maybe Shelob could be seen as Sauron's repressed anima, his eros side, eating, consuming, drawing all things into itself.

An excellent point. I suppose Ungoliant and Melkor can be contrasted in the same way. And again the feminine/eros side is the natural (in this case bestial) one; the masculine/logos side is the one interested in artifice. There seem to be countless such pairs when one starts thinking about it. It occurs to me that we may even see something of the distinction in Bilbo vs. Frodo. Bilbo goes looking for adventure (something typically considered masculine) and demonstrates artifice in creating his own poetry; Frodo much more passively accepts the role that is assigned to him and rarely writes his own stuff.

Ulmo is interesting, as he is always alone, which implies his logs & eros 'sides' were perfectly balanced.

I see the appeal of looking at it that way. But I'm much more inclined to view Ulmo as being on the eros/nature side. He is frequently contrasted with Aule, for one thing. Also his water-affinity associates him with the Teleri as opposed to the Noldor, and it is his counsel that the Quendi be left in Middle-earth rather than summoned to Valinor - i.e. left to their nature rather than civilized.

Generally speaking logos dominates over eros in males & eros over logos in females, but that is certainly to over generalise.

I think that's an unfair over-generalization in the real world, but in Middle-earth it certainly has some truth.

A thought that I forgot to come to in my previous post: it seems that often when we are presented with a natural extreme and an artificial extreme we are also given a sort of happy medium. For example, Saruman is artificial, Radagast is natural, and Gandalf is the ideal balance. Others that occur to me:

Aule (artifice), Ulmo (nature), Manwe (balance)

Feanor (artifice), Finarfin (nature), Fingolfin (balance) (in this case we also have Fingon and Finrod, just a shade to the artificial and natural sides, respectively)

Noldor (artifice), Teleri (nature), Vanyar (balance)

This leads to the question of whether one can be too natural, too far to the eros side. Certainly it intuitively seems that such must be possible, but it is always the artificers that go bad. To put in another way: the danger of logos is that the desire for knowledge becomes the desire for control; what is the danger of eros?

[Estelyn Telcontar]

The danger of eros is that its inherent passivity can allow evil to dominate. Éowyn says it well ("The Steward and the King", RotK):

It needs but one foe to breed a war, not two, Master Warden. And those who have not swords can still die upon them. Would you have the folk of Gondor gather you herbs only, when the Dark Lord gathers armies?

The ultimate goal of personal development is not delegating one or the other element to a partner, but learning to integrate both within one's self to achieve balance. The same chapter quoted above shows how Aragorn has accomplished that; the Warden says:

A great lord is that, and a healer; and it is a thing passing strange to me that the healing hand should also wield the sword.

An example of the danger of eros is Radagast; had he alone of the wizards been influential in the War of the Ring, it would have been lost.

[Aldarion Elf-Friend]

Originally Posted by Aiwendil

Now Melkor certainly was acting out of malice when he destroyed the Lamps, as when he destroyed the Trees. But when he first broke something - the song of the Ainur - it was out of a desire to create for himself.

Originally Posted by Davem

I suppose its a question of intent - why does Saruman want to know what the light is made of, & what makes him think that once he's broken it he can do anything with it?

Let's not forget that the origin of Melkor's problems is in his leaving the light of Eru Illuvitar to seek out the Secret Fire in the outer darkness (I hope I'm remembering my Ainilundale correctly...)

It seems to me that Melkor has been not seeking the source or makeup of the light so much as he is simply jealous of it. When he cannot find the source of the Secret Fire he attempts to destroy creation - a fit or temper tantrum, if you will.

This is followed by his continual attempts, not to fragment, but to destroy the light if he cannot possess it - breaking of the lights, poisoning of the trees, finally stealing the Silmarils and placing them in his crown.

Sorry that this is moving off-topic, but I'm getting caught up in the discussions.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Here we are back at our reading and the Council of Elrond starts. This chapter is literally stuffed with tales of the past and the last questions are answered, so at last, we are at present with no questions about what happened and the only thing we can look forward to is the (grim) future...

This chapter could also be named "Shadows of the Past II", because there's lot of similarities. What is quite nice here is that the new characters are introduced (Gimli just by name, but Legolas and especially Boromir well enough) in a very good manner - in the middle of a dialogue. Boromir is already shown with quite unsettling view on the world and the Ring, speaking for myself (really just for myself, apologies to all hardcore Boromir fans), I don't like him at all: I would say that he behaves like a stubborn prideful fool. However, it can't be denied that he is a very strong character and strangely enough, I am really glad he is there.

The chapter itself presents so much information, even about the past or a very distant past, that sometimes, it will be good not just for chapter-by-chapter, but rather line-by-line discussion. Anyway, we don't have that much time. I am going to point out some things which really caught my eye; and I am not going to elaborate much on them, just make it so that it rings the bell and you may think about it yourselves. I am interested then in reading what you others found interesting, what stands out on you.

So:

It is interesting that we have emissaries from the Elven settlements - Grey Havens, Thranduil's realm, and of course, the home Rivendell. But nobody from Lórien. Why? Lórien seems "outsiderish" or "playing on its own playground" even in the following chapter when sons of Elrond go there and it's all quite mysterious. Are all the "common" elves from Lórien too "barbaric" to be sent here, while the Lord and Lady on the contrary are too much to go to Rivendell? (And risk the Ring's presence at all?)

The tale of the Dwarves, Dáin and the messenger from Mordor (a Ringwraith? Mouth of Sauron? Or simply some "messenger"?) is quite scary, and now we learn more about Balin's sinister fate - what happened to him and his companions? This part of the tale is definitely quite "dark".

Aragorn at least openly says who he is and shows the Narsil. It's one of these last pieces which, as I said, fall into place in this chapter.

Galdor is a very interesting character and I like him; he seems to show remarkable respect for Saruman. I am amusing myself by the idea that he, if he had attended some of the White Council's meetings, may have been one of the strongest "political supporters" of Saruman. However, as we hear later from Saruman himself, he is not giving much value to the Elves anymore.

We learn quite up to detail how Gil-Galad died. Not precisely, but according to Isildur's scroll, his death had something to do with the heat of Sauron's hand. Did he burn the good Elf-lord or something? (That would answer the recently debated question what happened to Aeglos and/or Gil-Galad's body.)

Gollum escaped - what a threat. This brings however the chance and expectation for us who have read Hobbit before, that we may see the creature again. And he turned towards Dol Guldur - well that was not clever. Why, I am sure the servants of Sauron pursued him from the moment he escaped; so why was he even getting closer to the fortress of Sauron? Yes, he was no doubt running away from the Elves, good choice then - but still, he was attempting to run away from both of them (the Appendices are quite silent on this and we know he hides in Moria later, but why, or maybe rather HOW, he got through Southern Mirkwood, remains a question.)

Another thing which brings hope of seeing a real "The Hobbit sequel" here is when Bilbo almost takes the Ring to Mordor himself. That would be surely nice, wouldn't it? However, it's the young ones' turn now.

I really cried aloud "Hooray!" this time when I read that Frodo takes the Ring. What does this say about the nature of the story, having this effect on me even when I read it countless times before?

And last of all, I have to mention my beloved character, Saruman. Gandalf's tale is so interesting, and there are other things - a funny episode with Radagast (or so I take it, although the matter is serious, but Radagast is such a silly tramp ), the remarks about Rohan etc. Saruman has, of course, just fantastic quotes here and for me, he is the coolest character in this chapter!

Well, so that's it, as brief as I could make it, probably. What about you folks? Don't be shy and tell us what you like, dislike, or anything else you find worth mentioning about this chapter.

[Formendacil]

I love world-building, and watching Tolkien's world-building in particular, so "The Council of Elrond," like "The Shadow of the Past" before it, isn't something I've ever minded reading, but I'll admit that for its sheer length, it does still feel like a bit of a marathon. For all the faults of Peter Jackson's movies, I'll give it credit for managing to do an on-screen Council of Elrond that didn't feel too short (relative to what the books needed to convey) or too long (as a moviegoer).

It isn't a pure info-dump, though. Even though info is dumped--and by the truckload--there is actual *drama* right in front of the reader, taking place in this chapter. And I'm not even counting Gandalf's recitation of his adventures since leaving Frodo in June, which although it's a retelling, is the retelling of action.

In this chapter we get:

-Some muted Dwarf/Elf resentment, usually stemming from Glóin, which sets up the early stages of Legolas and Gimli's relationship.

-A much stronger dramatic encounter between Aragorn and Boromir. It actually always stops short of being the confrontation I expect--Boromir is far more deferential to the absurd possibility (as he probably sees it) that a King could return to Gondor than I expect, but this is still a forceful encounter of strong wills. And, I always forget, it's actually the moment where we, the readers, are directly told that Aragorn is Elendil's heir *and* get a sense of what inheritance means.

-Actually, this realisation on Frodo's part is dramatic: he immediately offers Aragorn the Ring, but Aragorn defuses the offer, which aligns him with Elrond and Gandalf as one of the Wise: their actions (abetted in the discussion by Glorfindel, which I find telling) are constantly to defer from a direct handling of the Ring: "I can't take it," "I won't take it," "we can't send it there", etc. The question is raised in the thread earlier about whether or not they knew what decision the council was going to make, and I think the answer is that they knew the decision it SHOULD make--the difference between them and, for example, Saruman, is that Gandalf and Elrond see their role as the Wise as being to guide others to that same decision. And, arguably, they guide the council in its constant denial of all other possibilities so that only one possibility remains: the Ring must go to Mordor--and Frodo must take it there.

-But, since they don't TELL Frodo he must do, there is drama in Frodo deciding to do it himself. They eliminate all the other options: it can't go to Valinor, it can't go to Bombadil, it can't go to the sea, it can't be used, it can't be handled by the powerful, the small must take it--no, not you, Bilbo. But Frodo has to volunteer. And while Gandalf may have known that he would, you do have to wonder what their backup plan was. Merry? Pippin? Sam? The least-Ranger-like Dúnadan they can find?

[Boromir88]

I love world-building, and watching Tolkien's world-building in particular, so "The Council of Elrond," like "The Shadow of the Past" before it, isn't something I've ever minded reading, but I'll admit that for its sheer length, it does still feel like a bit of a marathon. For all the faults of Peter Jackson's movies, I'll give it credit for managing to do an on-screen Council of Elrond that didn't feel too short (relative to what the books needed to convey) or too long (as a moviegoer).~Formendacil

Slowly but surely I'm catching up! While this is a lengthy chapter, it reads fairly quickly, as we hear the stories of what brings everyone to this council.

I didn't think much about it before but there are more similarities between this chapter and "The Shadow of the Past". Both chapters end with an eavesdropping Sam Gamgee becoming Frodo's first companion. It's a clear statement that these two hobbits are meant to see this journey, together, until the very end. Sam is caught in Shadow of the Past by Gandalf, and he is embarrassed at being called an eavesdropper (afraid of Gandalf possibly turning him into something unnatural). In this Chapter, he's called out by Elrond, but isn't embarrassed to be around all these elf-lords, wizards, and great men anymore. Sam's not the same hobbit that was compared to a "dog being taken for a walk" at the idea of getting to see Elves.

"No indeed!" said Elrond, turning towards him with a smile. "You at least shall go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

There was a lot of previous discussion over whether Gandalf and Elrond guided this council to the right decision. Gandalf knows Sam's an eavesdropper and it just made me think, Sam may have specifically not been invited, because they knew he would be secretly listening in anyway! I'm thinking this more likely too considering he was invited to the dinner the previous night.

...the difference between them and, for example, Saruman, is that Gandalf and Elrond see their role as the Wise as being to guide others to that same decision. And, arguably, they guide the council in its constant denial of all other possibilities so that only one possibility remains: the Ring must go to Mordor--and Frodo must take it there.~Form

What stuck out to me reading the chapter this time, is how relatively little Elrond and Gandalf discuss the big elephant in the room. Most of Gandalf's dialogue is the telling of his story and imprisonment. Elrond fills in some back story and history, fills in some missing details about Bombadil and his many names. But both characters really do leave the actual decision to destroy the ring up to the others. Erestor, Glorfindel, and Galdor do most of the talking about giving it to Tom, hiding it, sending it to the sea..etc, Boromir adds his Gondor-centric spiel to use it as a weapon, but Gandalf and Elrond stay relatively silent during the "decision making." It's only after Frodo volunteers that Elrond sneakily chimes in "yep, if all these stories tell me one thing Frodo, this is a moment where small hands do them, because they must." And Elrond all but admits, Frodo taking the Ring was all part of the plan:

"But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that non could lay it on another. I do not lay it on you. But if you take it freely, I will say that your choice is right..."

"Since you volunteered, I will say you made the right choice."

The crux of the story, isn't this is a battle of all these good people vs. all these evil people. It's a story about hope vs. despair:

"Thus we return once more to the destroying of the Ring," said Erestor, "and yet we come no nearer. What strength have we for the finding of the Fire in which it was made? That is the path of despair. Of folly, I would say, if the long wisdom of Elrond did not forbid me."

"Despair, or folly?" said Gandalf. "It is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not. It is wisdom to recognize necessity, when all other courses have been weighed, though as folly it may appear to those who cling to false hope..."

But even "good people" will fall to despair.

It's interesting the chief counselor of Elrond's house who says to destroy it looks like the path of despair, and he would say it's folly if Elrond didn't forbit it! Gandalf again, the constant reminder of the "Fool's Hope" and to seek to destroy the ring isn't despair, because no one can claim to know the end (I mean wasn't Erestor listening to Gandalf's story about Saruman? ). It might be folly, but only to those who cling to "false hope" (which is different from the "fool's hope"). "False hope" is Boromir's hope that to use the ring as a weapon would save Gondor.