The Critics

Maura Mellon

Perhaps the most radical explanation of the journey of these three characters comes from the mind of Timothy O’Neill, author of The Individuated Hobbit: Jung, Tolkien, and the Archetypes of Middle-earth. Though many critics see allegorical implications in Tolkien’s depiction of Middle-earth, O’Neill goes so far as to claim that the whole story represents the struggle of humanity to achieve self-realization.
Falling back on Freudian and Jungian principles of the conflicting conscious and subconscious and the necessity of self-realization , O’Neill urges his readers to “[picture] Middle-earth as a map of the psyche, with both conscious and unconscious aspects” (O’Neill 74). Frodo and Gollum stand as supreme symbols of the conscious and subconscious, respectively, rather than as symbols of good and evil. O’Neill maintains that the conflict between these two characters represents the conflict between the conscious ego and its shadow, the subconscious.
Both Frodo and Gollum “strive desperately for possession of the precious Ring” (O’Neill 136). In direct opposition to Tolkien’s characterization of the One Ring as a symbol of pure evil, however, O’Neill sees the Ring’s power as a necessary part of the psyche.
In fact, he asserts that:

The Ring’s symmetry is perfectly balanced, a graceful circle, distilling the concepts of balance and perfection and the union of all opposites that will characterize the Self after its realization. Its material is gold, because of its incorruptible nature as in the philosophy of alchemy... The Ring is the Self, the potential force that promises finally to make whole both hobbit and Middle-earth.--- (O’Neill 64-65)

Despite his eloquence and sound explanation of psychology, however, O’Neill’s analysis does not ring true. He states that the destruction of the One Ring brings about the total self-realization of Middle-earth, symbolic of the human psyche. However, he also claims that “Frodo has in a sense precluded his own Self-realization” (O’Neill 136-137) by destroying the Ring, or the Self for which he yearned. That the Ring’s destruction can both offer and forestall self-realization of the psyche at once makes little sense.
Furthermore, O’Neill entirely disregards the character of Samwise Gamgee, who plays a large role in the events involving Frodo, Gollum, and the Ring. Thus the critic only selectively examines the complex relationships in question, rendering his analysis incomplete.

Another school of thought sees Frodo, Sam, and Gollum’s journey as a “growing up” of the psyche rather than a quest for self-realization or a conflict between good and evil. The hobbits’ small stature and child-like mannerisms cause some critics to interpret them as symbols of the “inner child.”
Paul H. Kocher, author of Master of Middle-earth: The Fiction of J.R.R. Tolkien, comments that “in their original gay innocence, [the hobbits] resemble human children” (Kocher 118), while Hugh T. Keenan writes in his essay “The Appeal of The Lord of the Rings: A Struggle For Life” that “there is a strong suggestion that Frodo and his kind represent psychologically the eternal child who must be sacrificed so that the man may live” (Auden, W.H. et al. 67). Both Kocher and Keenan agree that the child-hobbits figuratively “grow up” during the journey to Mordor. Kocher maintains that the hobbits “grow increasingly human as the epic progresses” (Kocher 118) and that “Frodo and Sam especially are in effect human during the long physical and moral struggle toward Mount Doom” (Kocher 118).
However, this explanation of the significance of Frodo and Sam falls short in several points. First of all, this interpretation does not take into account the character of Gollum, who undeniably has a huge influence on his companions and plays a significant role in the book. Gollum himself is in no way child-like, though he was once a hobbit himself, and does not support the theory that the journey of the hobbits represents the maturation of the human mind. Nor do Kocher and Keenan manage to fit the One Ring into their scheme, except as an object of suffering that forces the hobbits to “grow up.” Neither critic adequately discusses the nature of the Ring’s power or its meaning in relation to the hobbits.
As for the hobbits representing children, though their small size makes this connection tempting, it is a very circumstantial connection. Throughout the more than 1,000 pages of The Lord of the Rings, the hobbits face adult challenges and react to them in adult ways. The hobbits’ comprehension of the evil they must face and their admirable decision to face that evil is far from juvenile. Frodo and Sam may be small, with initially “small” problems and desires, but they are in no way immature in their handling of those problems and desires.

Other Tolkien scholars see the characters and relationships of Frodo, Sam, and Gollum as far less interpretive and abstract. As Tolkien’s writing and his commentary on his book are both very straight-forward, many critics have taken his characters at face value. Lin Carter, author of Tolkien: A Look Behind the Lord of the Rings, acknowledges that “Frodo is the ordinary man, forced by painful circumstances to find within himself the sources of courage and strength” (Carter 191) and that “simple, common, practical Sam becomes... a bold, heroic, valorous figure in his own right” (Carter 191), but does not expound deeper symbolic meanings for either of the characters. To Carter, Frodo and Sam fit into the category of the naïve country lad who becomes a hero due to having a great task thrust upon him. Neither character, however, qualifies as an allegory for the qualities and struggles of the human mind or society.
In her essay “The Staring Eye,” Ursula LeGuin agrees with the view of Tolkien’s novel as a book to enjoy, not to interpret, saying, “for those who seek allegory, it must be maddening” (Asimov, Isaac, et al. 45).
Tolkien himself, in an oft referred to quotation, said: “As for any inner meaning or ‘message’, it has in the intention of the author none. It is neither allegorical nor topical... I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations” (Tolkien, The Lord Foreword xvii). When asked by Dennis Gerrolt in an interview in 1971 why he chose a hobbit as the Ringbearer, Tolkien went so far as to say: “I didn’t. I didn’t do much choosing... all I was trying to do was carry on from the point where The Hobbit left off. I’d got hobbits on my hands, hadn’t I?” (Tolkien, Personal interview).
These statements lend credibility to those critics who believe that Tolkien’s work has little or no allegorical value and that the choice of hobbits as protagonists has little or no symbolic importance. The lack of allegory, however, does not make either The Lord of the Rings or the hobbit characters insignificant. Tolkien admitted that his work might have “varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers” (Tolkien, The Lord, Foreword xvii), implying that different readers might read different meanings in the book and that they were free to do so. He did, however, make a distinction between “applicability” and “allegory,” asserting that “one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author” (Tolkien, The Lord, Foreword xvii).
Though Tolkien denied the allegorical nature of Frodo, Sam, and Gollum’s quest, he did not deny their significance as individuals caught in the struggle between good and evil. In fact, as the entire novel deals with that theme, it follows that these three characters embody it as well.

A number of critics have developed this idea of the conflict between good and evil in full. In his essay “The Lord of the Hobbits: J.R.R. Tolkien,” Edmund Fuller states that “as to the inherent meaning [of the novel], we are confronted basically by a raw struggle between good and evil” (Auden, W.H., et al. 24). The book contains various images that support this idea: the dark horror of Mordor versus the beauty of Middle-earth, the repulsive Orcs versus the ethereal Elves, and the terrible power of the One Ring, which must be destroyed at all costs. In fact, no reader of Tolkien’s works will deny that his main theme involves the conflict of good and evil.
There remains, however, the question of how this conflict relates to the hobbits Frodo and Sam and their companion Gollum. In his book Tolkien’s World, Randel Helms examines the roles of good and evil in the trio of Frodo, Sam, and Gollum in detail. He points out that “it is hardly too much to say that Gollum and the Ring are the central figures in the history... of The Lord of the Rings” (Helms 33), and that the Ring and Gollum’s desire for it embody pure evil. The Ring, Helms says, is “a symbol for the entire complex fact that twentieth-century man has... suddenly found himself... in possession of a power over nature so immense even the desire to use it will inevitably corrupt his soul” (Helms 59-60). Helms pins down the exact nature of the Ring’s evil: power, and the desire for it. Thus the critic establishes one side of the conflict.
The other side, the side of good, rests on Samwise Gamgee’s shoulders. The situation, however, becomes more complex when Helms asserts that, while an external conflict exists between Gollum and Sam, each of the characters must also fight their own internal battle. Frodo, though gentle and virtuous by nature, must resist the corruptive influence of the Ring, Sam must support his friend and avoid giving in to despair, and the schizophrenic Gollum contains within himself “both good and evil, both Sméagol and Gollum” (Helms 97).
The most fascinating quality of these intertwined conflicts resides in the fact that, ultimately, both good and evil are necessary to the destruction of the Ring.

Helms extols this paradox in detail:

“A combination of Orc wickedness and Sam’s love for his master gets the major pair safely on the road to Orodruin... Utterly exhausted and with weakening will, the hobbits could never have climbed Mount Doom or reached Sammath Naur, but for Sauron’s own road to the Chambers of Fire... And last of all, the Ring would never have fallen into the fire but for the reversed effects of Gollum’s lust for his Precious, satisfied at last, Ringbearer to the Crack of Doom” (Helms 106-108).

Helms expresses this irony with “Gandalf’s ‘Often does hatred hurt itself’ and Théoden’s ‘Oft evil will shall evil mar’” (Helms 92). In other words, evil causes its own ruin, as evidenced by Gollum’s accidental destruction of the One Ring. This is lucky for the protagonists—for in Middle-earth, like in Midgard of Norse mythology, “the cause the forces of good are fighting to defend against the forces of evil is hopeless” (Hamilton 300) and “the power of good is shown not by triumphantly conquering evil, but by continuing to resist evil while facing certain defeat” (Hamilton 301). Frodo and Sam have little true chance of destroying the One Ring by walking alone into Mordor. Despite the hopelessness of their quest, however, they must try.
Here rests the paradox: in this case, good cannot win against evil, but evil winning makes for a bad story. Nor can the protagonists resort to evil methods to win, since then they would become evil themselves—in other words, one who used the One Ring to overthrow the Dark Lord would only become a new Dark Lord himself. This problem resolves itself neatly when evil destroys itself. Helms concludes that evil is always stronger than good—Sauron and his thousands of Orcs could easily overpower Frodo and Sam—but evil, being harmful to all, is by its very nature self-destructive.

Helms’ interpretation of Tolkien’s vision of good and evil as represented by Frodo, Sam, and Gollum is quite insightful and adds up nicely, but he neglects some of the finer points of the characters’ relationships to each other and their interpretive implications.