LotR -- Book 6 - Chapter 9 - The Grey Havens

[davem]

Ok, but leaving aside how the account got in there, what is the relationship between Frodo's 'dream' in the House of Bombadil & his 'real' experience of Tol Eressea?

[Child of the 7th Age]

If we knew the answer, would the heart of the mystery be stripped away?

But still.....I would like to know the answer. Any ideas?

[Lalwendë]

Originally Posted by davem

Ok, but leaving aside how the account got in there, what is the relationship between Frodo's 'dream' in the House of Bombadil & his 'real' experience of Tol Eressea?

Originally Posted by FotR

That night they heard no noises. But either in his dreams or out of them, he could not tell which, Frodo heard a sweet singing running in his mind: a song that seemed to come like a pale light behind a grey rain-curtain, and growing stronger to turn the veil all to glass and silver, until at last it was rolled back, and a far green country opened before him under a swift sunrise.

Originally Posted by RotK

And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed on into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.

Perhaps Frodo has this 'vision' (and it seems to be heard rather than seen) because of Tom? Tom is the 'Eldest' - and he does make the point that he was there before the way to the West was closed - and so he may have known himself what the approaches to the Undying Lands might be like. Or maybe he simply awakens in Frodo a vision of what may (or may not) be to come. What Frodo experiences in Tom's house may be a kind of epiphany, a moment of realisation (revelation?) of what might happen or might be possible for some?

I don't think it was a vision in the sense of a premonition of what would happen, but of what might happen. That might have been at the centre of Frodo's personal sense of hope through all his troubles. If so, and Sam did indeed choose the words based on what Frodo may have set down in writing already, then this too is as touching as if the words were about what truly happened to Frodo, as those words would have been about Frodo's belief.

[Formendacil]

The possibility occurred to me that if one wants to somehow cram this final scene into a package that makes it both a definitive happening and acceptable within the confines of the translator's conceit, one should perhaps look at Aelfwine...

Although Tolkien seems to have decided that the Straight Road was a one-way street, he never did quite abandon the idea that Aelfwine/Eriol travels to Eressea, learns the lore of the Eldar, and transcribes it for future generations- with that knowledge somehow having to make it back to Middle-Earth, to ultimately rest in the hands of J.R.R. Tolkien...

Perhaps the view of Eressea that we are given is the universal arrival view, as seen by Aelfwine. After all, it was Tolkien's cherished conception that the Silmarillion and the Lord of the Rings be published in tandem- and Aelfwine was still conceived to be a part of the story.

A bit of stretching going on in my little theory here, and it certainly begs the question of how Aelfwine's lore made it back to Merry Olde England, but it's what came to my mind...

[Bêthberry]

This last chapter discussion has come at a bad time for me, for I have little time to devote to the Downs this week, yet I don't want to miss out on a properly observed closure to our months of discussion, even though the Appendices appear on the horizon, like the last rays of a setting sun. Fordim, you have outdone yourself with your splendid observation that this reading has been so unlike our usual habit of solitary reading, accomplished with others at our elbows or over our shoulders..

Originally Posted by dancing spawn

Now, if the dust that Galadriel gave to Sam had got its powers from Nenya, sure the things that had been made with the help of the dust started fading as well?

You know, this expression of Galadriel's gift took me by surprise and I had to check back with the text. Yes, Tolkien uses the word 'dust' to describe the treasures of the small box Sam receives from the Lady. Why was I so taken? Because 'dust' is so strongly connoted now for me with Philip Pullman's trilogy. And how very extraordinary are the two writers' uses of that word.

Originally Posted by Lalwendë

Perhaps Frodo has this 'vision' (and it seems to be heard rather than seen) because of Tom? Tom is the 'Eldest' - and he does make the point that he was there before the way to the West was closed - and so he may have known himself what the approaches to the Undying Lands might be like. Or maybe he simply awakens in Frodo a vision of what may (or may not) be to come. What Frodo experiences in Tom's house may be a kind of epiphany, a moment of realisation (revelation?) of what might happen or might be possible for some?

davem's observation of this vision is, as so many of you have already noted, a most astute observation given the authorial conceit we have discussed over this many months. The little I can add is my remembrance that in the House of Bombadil it was Goldberry who so greatly moved and inspired Frodo that he repeats the song she sang and she acknowledges him "elf-friend." Goldberry's spell is said to be different from that of the elves, "less keen and lofty but deeper and nearer to mortal heart." Not that this particularly 'solves' the mystery here.

One point of this chapter which has always intrigued me is the passage of the fair company through the Shire, for they are already not of this (that?) world any longer.

Originally Posted by Redbook Author

Though they rode through the midst of the Shire all the evening and all the night, none saw them them pass, save the wild creatures; or here and there some wanderer in the dark who saw a swift shimmer under the trees, or a light and shadow flowing through the grass as the Moon went westward.

[davem]

Flicking back through the chapter I noticed the following incident:

Sam was silent, deep in his memories. Presently he became aware that Frodo was singing softly to himself, singing the old walking-song, but the words were not quite the same.
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.
And as if in answer, from down below, coming up the road out of the valley, voices sang:
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silivren penna miriel
o menel aglar elenath,
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees
The starlight on the Western Seas.

The two songs are virtually identical in the yearning they express, yet Frodo's song looks forward to a day when he will take those 'hidden paths', while the Elves hymn looks backward, it is all about remembrance of things past. It seems that for all his 'Elvishness' Frodo is still mortal, still looks to the future. There is still something of the adventurer in Frodo. For the Elves, though, all there is is memory, the past. Frodo's tragedy is that the only place he can find healing is a place where there is no future. Yet what his song also expresses is his restlessness, his inability to settle. Perhaps the idea of the Quest, the journey, has become ingrained in him. Like his uncle he cannot settle, & interestingly neither could Gollum. Its rather as if that is an effect of the Ring - once you've possessed it you seem unable to rest. Even Sam is affected:

There still he stood far into the night, hearing only the sigh and murmur of the waves on the shores of Middle-earth, and the sound of them sank deep into his heart.

This is not simply an 'Elvish' yearning for the Undying Lands across the Sea - though Sam will one day set sail into the West. Of course, all the four returning Hobbits are known as 'The Travellers', & I'd say that's not simply because they have travelled, but because they are now different. Certainly none of them will remain in the Shire till they die. It seems that once you step outside the bounds of the Shire you can never really return permanently. Sam, Merry & Pippin are not as deeply affected by their journeys as Frodo is by his, yet its as true for them as it is for him that there is no real going back. Mortals can never 'go back'.

[HerenIstarion]

Originally Posted by davem

It seems he was expecting the Elven Host - though we’re not told how he knew the time & place of the meeting

Elrond told him few chapters back:

For about this time of the year, when the leaves are gold before they fall, look for Bilbo in the woods of the Shire. I shall be with him.’

Truly, this is not exact instruction, not at all. But now I have something (three somethings, to be precise) to propose (all utterly 'unbacked up', of course):

1. May it be that Frodo was somewhat trained in Osanwe Kenta (remember Galadriel mentioning he began to 'see with a keen eye' in Mirror of Galadriel) by his Burden?

2. May it be that all parties involved just paid heed to significance of dates for Frodo and Bilbo and choose (once again) their birthday for a meeting date?

3. Or maybe the explanation is quite trivial, and some elven company wandering in Woody End made a detour to warn him beforehand.

As for the verse:

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

It is also interesting to compare with what Frodo sang in Book I, Three Is Company:

Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

The day is much nearer than in version 1 - than it was removed to some unidentified future, now it is concrete - tomorrow here seems literaly tomorrow - and indeed, few days after Frodo leaves Middle Earth forever (read: dies for those who are left on Hither shore). Here, like in elven song, he refers to Past as to the Future - and life is limited to 'today', which slips inevitably into the Future ('tomorrow') and leaves life in the past.

Also in Book 1 Frodo seems himself unaware of hidden meaning of the song in Book I (all those 'Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight' etc), but now his singing is conscious.

[Aiwendil]

One small thing that I think ought to be noted in connection with the last chapter is that the removal of the epilogue altered not only the tone of the work's end but also its emphasis - quite radically, I think.

As published, the final lines are of course:

At last they rode over the downs and took the East Road, and then Merry and Pippin rode on to Buckland; and already they were singing again as they went. But Sam turned to Bywater, and so came back up the Hill, as day was ending once more. And he went on, and there was a yellow light, and fire within; and the evening meal was ready, and he was expected. And Rose drew him in, and set him in his chair, and put little Elanor upon his lap.
He drew a deep breath. 'Well, I'm back,' he said.

In some of the Book I discussions, we discussed the 'homely house' in LotR - the safe place where the company is received and offered respite. Here we have a short but strong evocation of the same thing, except that this time the house to which Sam comes actually belongs to him. Aragorn is king; the Elves have gone across the sea; but Sam's fate is to become an ordinary person, with a home and a wife and children. And insofar as that is presented as a good and desirable fate, this ending affirms that ordinary Hobbitish (and human) life. The world (this world, the ordinary world) is, after all, good.

Nothing in the epilogue mitigates that, but it does twist the whole sentiment around. This is how Tolkien intended the book to end before being convinced to drop the epilogue:

'March the twenty-fifth!' he said. 'This day seventeen years ago, Rose wife, I didn't think I should ever see thee again. But I kept on hoping.'
'I never hoped at all, Sam,' she said, 'not until that very day; and then suddenly I did. About noon it was, and I felt so glad that I began singing. And mother said: "Quiet, lass! There's ruffians about." And I said: "Let them come! Their time will soon be over. Sam's coming back." And you came.'
'I did,' said Sam. To the most belovedest place in all the world. To my Rose and my garden.'
They went in, and Sam shut the door. But even as he did so, he heard suddenly, deep and unstilled, the sigh and murmur of the Sea upon the shores of Middle-earth.

Again, we have an affirmation of domesticity - but this time it is sharply undercut by the very last sentence. Tolkien originally intended the last line of LotR to speak of the Sea, 'deep and unstilled'. The line calls very vividly to mind Frodo's words to Sam earlier - that he, too, bore the Ring and that he may one day sail West as well. The message is clear - though Sam clearly is content in the Shire with his family, he may not be quite as whole as he thinks. Insofar, then, as Sam is a kind of 'everyman' here at the end, that 'everyman' may not be completely whole. Like Frodo, Sam may have been irreversibly changed - perhaps not wounded as Frodo was, but torn in two just the same.

I think that this is an important window into the whole issue of 'sea-longing' in Tolkien's works. For Tolkien, the sea seems to represent a kind of yearning - not an ordinary yearning or desire for ordinary things, but a profound, transcendental desire. It seems to me that it is something very much like Tolkien's 'sea-longing' that makes humans want desperately to believe in a God, or in Nirvana, or in any of the other transcendental ideals. In the Silmarillion, this is explored through Tuor and Earendil. In LotR, it is explored through Frodo. When Frodo (like Earendil) becomes unable to find contentment in Middle-earth, he must go over the sea to seek it. Just so, when a real person cannot find fulfillment in the ordinary world, he or she longs to 'go across the sea' - to find something beyond the ordinary world.

I think that the loss of the last line is the truly regrettable thing about the exclusion of the epilogue (even if that exclusion was ultimately necessary). For here Tolkien encapsulates the whole issue quite succinctly. Sam may be the most content person in Middle-earth, with his Rose and his garden, in 'the most belovedest place in all the world.' But even he hears the Sea. To me, this is one of Tolkien's most insightful comments about human nature.