Ultimately, while The Lord of the Rings displays an emphasis on nature that is similar to that in the Buddhist tradition, important differences do exist between their accounts of nature. Though it is beyond the scope of this essay to offer a detailed examination of what motivates these differences, it appears that some of these differences can be attributed to differing background beliefs. Just as the religious doctrines of Buddhism influence its view of nature, Tolkien’s treatment of nature is clearly affected by Judeo-Christian notions, specifically the tendency to give humans special status in nature, and the tendency to be suspicious of wild nature. These tendencies likely contribute to the differences between Tolkien’s account of nature and those in Buddhism.
Sensei Samwise
Another parallel that exists between Tolkien and the Buddhist tradition is their similar emphasis on mentoring. The Lord of the Rings is replete with examples of relationships that are best described as master-student relationships. This view of the importance of a mentor, and perhaps more importantly the notion of developing precisely as a result of mentoring, seems to be very closely paralleled in the master-student relationship that is central to many forms of Buddhism, particularly Zen Buddhism. In this tradition, it is generally accepted that mentoring is not merely helpful, but essential to the achievement of enlightenment.
In The Lord of the Rings, the master-student theme is most apparent in the character of Frodo. Frodo has several mentors throughout the novel. First, there is Bilbo, who acts as a surrogate father to Frodo. Then there are Gandalf and Aragorn, on whom Frodo constantly leans for guidance. Finally, there is the most unlikely of all masters, “Master Samwise.” Throughout The Lord of the Rings, there is no sense that Frodo’s various mentors are discarded. Instead, as one mentor becomes unavailable, another takes his place. As Frodo adopts different mentors, the roles of the mentors change to a certain extent as well. Finally, due in no small part to Sam’s guidance, Frodo completes his development and, at the end of the book, embodies the role of the master and reclaims the Shire. While we shall focus primarily on Frodo’s mentoring and how it conveys ideas about the master-student relationship that may be similar to those in Zen Buddhism, we will also look at Sam and his simultaneous role as teacher and student.
While Tolkien presents different kinds of master-student relationships, the differences are due to the differing roles and expectations of each character. By providing Frodo with a series of mentors, Tolkien offers a view of the master-student relationship that is similar to that of Buddhism. Specifically, he demonstrates that a student needs a master who is suitable to both the student’s potential and ultimately to the student’s goal or task. As Frodo matures and his needs change, so do his mentors.
In keeping with the belief that individuals need multiple mentors who are suited to their changing aptitudes and goals, Buddhists believe that individuals can learn from a host of sources. Tolkien conveys this belief through Frodo’s various mentors. Bilbo, who is Frodo’s first mentor, is also his cousin. However, Bilbo takes on the role of a parent to Frodo. He guides Frodo through his protracted hobbit adolescence and departs when Frodo is mature enough to begin living on his own. Bilbo’s presence demonstrates that family members, particularly parents, are essential sources of instruction.
Frodo’s second master or teacher is Gandalf. He takes the role of a wise elder and is more self-conscious with respect to his role as a teacher. After Bilbo’s departure, Gandalf takes Frodo under his wing—or more appropriately his wand. Gandalf begins Frodo’s education by informing him of the history of the Ring and the dangers that accompany it. Gandalf also imparts more general life lessons. For example, when Frodo bemoans the fact that Bilbo did not kill Gollum, Gandalf states, “Do not be too eager to deal out death in the name of judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends” (FR, p. 65). With this comment, Gandalf not only reminds Frodo that he is not yet wise, he informs him that humility is characteristic of wisdom because the world is too wide for even the wise to comprehend it completely. This sentiment runs throughout Buddhist literature as it is expressive of the Buddhist belief that the ego is one of the greatest obstacles to understanding. Ultimately, Gandalf guides Frodo in a manner that encourages Frodo’s independence. He provides Frodo with instruction but then lets him confront challenges on his own. For example, in the film version of The Fellowship of the Ring, Gandalf asks the “Ring-bearer” to decide if they should leave Caradhras and go on to the Mines of Moria.
Through Gandalf, Tolkien not only shows that we can learn from the wise, he illustrates what it means to be a good master. Rather than dominate those under his tutelage, he shows that a good master fosters independence and personal development. Clearly, this distinguishes Gandalf, the good master, from Sauron, the evil master, whose goal is to permanently enslave his underlings, not to aid them in the attainment of wisdom and autonomy.
Frodo’s third master is Aragorn. Unlike Gandalf who gives Frodo lessons, Aragorn teaches Frodo largely through example. Even when they first meet, Frodo realizes that there is something special about Aragorn. Frodo watches Strider intently and clearly learns much from him. Aragorn is a role model of courage, independence, and commitment. As a master, Aragorn illustrates not only important traits, he also demonstrates that a mentor can teach by example as well as by means of a conventional lesson.
Frodo’s fourth and final master is Sam. Sam is Frodo’s friend, but he is also Frodo’s servant and companion on the journey to Mordor. Though it is Sam who refers to Frodo as “Master” throughout The Lord of the Rings, it is clear that Frodo learns as much—or more—from Sam as Sam does from him. Sam instructs Frodo through both discussion and example. Through his selfless commitment to Frodo and his perseverance in the face of adversity, he teaches Frodo about loyalty, humility, and character. One obvious example of this is when Sam (who cannot swim) risks drowning rather than abandon Frodo as Frodo attempts to leave the Fellowship at Parth Galen (FR, p. 456).
Sam is a particularly interesting “master” to Frodo because he seems to be such an unlikely candidate for the role. He seems more simple than scholarly, and he lacks the prestige of the Ring-bearer, the power of a wizard, and the renowned ancestry of Aragorn. However, Tolkien makes Sam’s role explicit by titling Chapter X of The Two Towers, “The Choices of Master Samwise”. By drawing our attention to “Master Samwise,” Tolkien reminds his readers that guidance often comes from unexpected sources and that we can learn from even the humblest of teachers.
In Zen Buddhist literature, there are many accounts of masters attaining enlightenment from the teaching or example of simple people. For example, Dogen’s search for the right master took him from Japan to China where he met a most unlikely mentor. As the story goes, there was a load of shiitake mushrooms on the boat that brought Dogen to China. A cook from a Ch’an (Zen) monastery came to the boat to purchase some of the mushrooms. This cook was able to answer some of Dogen’s difficult questions and thus served as a master for Dogen. There are many stories like this, and they typically involve questions and answers between a master and a student. In virtually all cases, the student cannot find the path to enlightenment on her own. Rather, the guidance of a master, a master suited to the particular student and her stage of development, is essential. Here, Tolkien and Buddhism agree not only about the importance of a master, but perhaps more importantly, the necessity of the right master at the right time.
Beyond Good and Evil: Tolkien and Taoism
Arguably, the battle of good versus evil is the most prominent theme in The Lord of the Rings. Indeed, as one of the preceding sections indicates, this theme is conveyed in part through Tolkien’s polarized characterization of nature. For anyone familiar with Eastern thought, Tolkien’s emphasis on opposing forces calls to mind the symbol of the Tao with its intertwining yin and yang. The question, however, is whether Tolkien’s view of opposing forces is truly analogous to Taoism’s.
According to Taoism, all things are comprised of t
he cosmic principles of yin and yang or some combination of the two. Yin and yang are opposites. Yin is associated with darkness, passivity, and femininity, whereas yang is associated with light, activity, and masculinity. Taoists maintain that harmony or goodness exists when the forces of yin and yang achieve the state of dynamic equilibrium illustrated in the symbol of the Tao. In the symbol, yin is portrayed as an internal element of yang and vice-versa, illustrating that the relationship is a complex one. Taoists maintain that evil occurs as a result of an imbalance between yin and yang.
In some ways, Tolkien appears to present a view of opposites that is similar to that found in Taoism. Specifically, throughout most of The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien depicts a world where two opposing forces exist in balance. Like Taoists, he associates one force with light and the other with darkness. Moreover, we see a sort of equilibrium emerge between representatives of each force insofar as Tolkien actually balances his nine Walkers with the nine Black Riders. Finally, an equilibrium of forces is suggested when, in a conversation about the future, Haldir the elf suggests that the balance between opposing forces may persist in the form of a “truce” (FR, p. 391).
Though Tolkien suggests that there is a balance between the opposing forces of light and darkness, crucial differences exist between Tolkien’s view and that of Taoism. Indeed, while Tolkien’s text may call to mind the symbol of the Tao, there are more differences than similarities between Tolkien’s and Taoism’s account of opposites.
The first major difference between Tolkien’s account of opposites and that found in Taoism is that while Tolkien depicts a time when opposing forces exist in balance, he also makes it abundantly clear that this balance has not always existed and that it should be overcome. Insofar as Tolkien likens the force of darkness to a “shadow” (FR, p. 391) that descends upon the earth and endangers all good things, he makes it clear that a “truce” between opposing forces is not a goal to be sought. Rather, Tolkien envisions the relation between opposing forces as a “war” (TT, p. 489) that needs to be won. In The Lord of the Rings, the goal is the defeat of the forces of darkness, not reconciliation with them. The position that one of the oppositional forces of nature should be overcome is not in keeping with the basic principles of Taoism.
Tolkien’s negative characterization of the Dark Power also makes it evident that he privileges one of his two forces over the other. Clearly, Tolkien associates the Dark Power with evil and the forces of light with goodness. While the association of light with goodness and darkness with evil is commonplace in the West, Taoists do not characterize the cosmic forces of yin and yang in this manner. Though Taoists associate yin with darkness and yang with light, yin is not bad and yang good. Taoists do not maintain that one of their cosmic principles is the origin of evil while the other is the epitome of goodness. Given the emphasis that Taoists place on achieving a balance between yin and yang, the association of one force with evil would imply that evil is necessary, which Taoists do not believe to be the case.
Rather, Taoists maintain that evil results from disharmony or imbalance in the Tao. Taoists believe that both yin and yang are necessary for the optimal functioning of nature. They assert that goodness is only achieved when these principles are balanced. Indeed, this is another important difference that Tolkien’s war metaphor makes apparent. Because Tolkien identifies goodness with light and evil with darkness, he is compelled to assert that harmony in nature can only be achieved through the defeat of its enemy, the Dark Power. However, Taoists believe that harmony emerges when opposing forces are balanced. Thus, while Tolkien suggests that goodness and harmony can emerge fully only in the wake of the Dark Power’s defeat, for Taoists the destruction of either one of the two cosmic forces would destroy natural harmony and generate evil.
Another difference between Tolkien’s account of opposites and that of Taoism is that Tolkien personifies his forces and Taoists do not. In The Lord of the Rings, one particular individual embodies the force of darkness. While he has various underlings, Sauron is described as the “Dark Lord,” and the darkness sweeping over the earth is said to find its origin primarily in him. Likewise, though he is not its sole representative, “Gandalf the White” personifies the force of light and goodness. While Taoists hold that the yin and yang are found in individuals, they do not personify the forces of yin and yang. Rather, Taoists see yin and yang as “completely impersonal natural forces.”5
The final difference between Tolkien’s view of opposites and that of Taoism concerns the relation between their respective forces of opposition. As the symbol of the Tao illustrates, Taoists believe that the cosmic forces of yin and yang are interdependent. The symbol of the Tao conveys this belief insofar as the yin and yang intertwine with one another and because a seed of yin is found at the heart of the yang component and a seed of yang at the center of the yin. Taoists believe that yin and yang depend upon, even originate in, one another. This is not the case with Tolkien.
As we hope to have shown, while aspects of The Lord of the Rings call to mind ideas and themes evident in the Buddho-Taoist tradition, close examination reveals that many of these similarities are merely apparent. In fact, many of the similarities that exist between Tolkien and Taoism are, while quite striking, somewhat superficial. However, several parallels with Buddhist and Taoist thought do survive scrutiny, particularly the general emphasis on nature and the significance attached to the master-student relationship. In the final analysis, it is in the themes of nature and humanity that we find the bridge that connects Buddhism and Taoism to The Lord of the Rings.
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1 At least in his works of fantasy. We don’t mean to suggest that Tolkien personally believed that trees are conscious or sentient, or that animals such as eagles or horses can talk or understand speech.
2 Dogen, Mountains and Waters Sutra, in Moon in a Dewdrop (San Francisco: North Point, 1985), p. 97.
3 See T.P. Kasulis, Zen Action, Zen Person (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1981) for further discussion of this point. There, Kasulis distinguishes between thinking, not-thinking, and without-thinking. While humans tend to identify with thinking (reflective thought), Kasulis explains that reflective thought tends to promote the mistaken impression that things have autonomous essences and are therefore not fundamentally connected to one another. Thus, reflective thought creates an obstacle to understanding and enlightenment because it obscures the true nature of things.
4 Daisetz T. Suzuki, Zen and Japanese Culture (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970), pp. 269–314.
5 Fung Yu-Lan, A Short History of Chinese Philosophy (New York: Macmillan, 1948), p. 142.
15
Sam and Frodo’s Excellent Adventure: Tolkien’s Journey Motif
J. LENORE WRIGHT
I view life as a journey. It’s not so much having some goal and getting to it. It’s taking the journey itself that matters. . . . I don’t think life is about arriving somewhere and then just hanging out. It’s expanding and expanding and trying and trying to get somewhere new and never stopping. It’s getting out your colors and showing them.
GEENA DAVIS1
J.R.R. Tolkien never expected to become famous. Like his reluctant pilgrim, Frodo, character was more important to him than mere reputation. But famous he is, for as Hamfast Gamgee “the Gaffer” might say, “famous is as famous does.” In addition to Peter Jackson’s film version of The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien’s work has inspired everything from Internet chats to fashion designs. The Lord of the Rings discussion boards continue to erupt on the World Wide Web. The August 8th, 2002, edition of The New York Times, advertises an English-designed child’s tent as “Just the Burrow for Your Little Hobbit.” Even the world-renowned fashion designer, Vivienne Westwood, appears to have embraced the Tolkien spirit. On CNN’s “Fashion Report,” she described her fall 2002 collection as “woodsy” and “pilgrim-like.” Cloaks and folded fabrics define that particular line, along with its gray, brown, and green color
scheme.
Like Frodo’s quest, Tolkien’s fame is imbued with irony: he did not seek it; it sought him. By his own account, he never intended to write an allegory for contemporary culture when he began The Lord of the Rings:
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. . . . I much prefer history, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers. I think that many confuse ‘applicability’ with ‘allegory’; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author. (FR, p. x)
We hear Tolkien’s plea imbedded within these words—please don’t mistake me for a prophet!—and yet we cannot help but see our world in his. The greedy corporate leaders who helped to bankrupt Enron and WorldCom look a lot like orcs fighting over pillaged goods. In reports of the insider-trading scandal implicating Martha Stewart, she resembles poor-old Sméagol, chasing after “good things” even when they do not belong to her. And the bulldozing and burning of tropical rain forests in South America bears a frightening resemblance to the environmental devastation wrought by Saruman’s goblin-men. Tolkien’s story plays upon the themes that have shaped and continue to shape the narrative history of contemporary culture. His story is our story. But what does his story have to do with philosophy?
In Love’s Knowledge, Martha Nussbaum offers a partial answer. Nussbaum argues that literature humanizes philosophy by giving philosophy a corpus, a body, in which to live. Outside of this humanizing process, philosophy remains abstracted and disconnected from life experience. Moreover, in portraying characters whose actions mimic the lived experiences of human beings, literature offers us a lens into the philosophical dimensions of human action—ethical, aesthetic, and ontological. If this is true, then Tolkien’s characters can be said to humanize and clarify aspects of Western philosophy.
The Lord of the Rings and Philosophy Page 21
