“The road must be trod, but it will be very hard. And neither strength nor wisdom will carry us far upon it. This quest may be attempted by the weak with as much hope as the strong. Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.”
– Elrond, The Fellowship of the Ring
Elrond’s sage words express a concept vital to understanding the very heart of The Lord of the Rings. At the end of the Third Age, Middle-earth is in deadly peril; the only hope is to destroy Sauron’s Ring of Power in the fires of Mount Doom. Fortunately, Middle-earth is blessed with an abundance of heroes (including Gandalf the wizard, Aragorn the returning king, and many noble elves and men), any one of whom would make a logical candidate to undertake such a daunting mission. But while they all do their part in resisting Sauron, the task of destroying the Ring doesn’t belong to any of them. Instead, it belongs to Frodo Baggins, a small hobbit from the Shire who, by his own admission, is “not made for perilous quests” (The Fellowship of the Ring, 67). Frodo is the primary hero of The Lord of the Rings, yet he is sometimes overshadowed by characters with a more obvious claim to heroism. While his side of the story may not be as outwardly dramatic as some of the other characters’, he doesn’t need to march into battle wielding a sword or bow to qualify as a hero. Frodo’s story is, in fact, an internally-focused one, a journey of the soul demonstrating the quiet strength of his character as he undergoes a rigorous spiritual test. As J.R.R. Tolkien writes, Frodo is “a hobbit broken down by a burden of fear and horror – broken down, and in the end made into something quite different” (The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 186). Frodo is transformed as he devotes himself to the vocation God has assigned him, in spite of fear and doubt, and that’s what makes him a true hero.
His story begins when Bilbo departs the Shire after the birthday party, leaving his nondescript Ring in Frodo’s possession. For several years, Frodo lives quietly at Bag-End, apparently content with his life. Eventually, however, he begins to regret not having gone with Bilbo, and a restless yearning to explore the outside world begins to gnaw at him. To the bewilderment of the Shire residents, he often “wandered by himself, and…was sometimes seen far from home walking in the hills and woods under the starlight. Merry and Pippin suspected that he visited the Elves at times” (FOTR, 46), which is considered startling and eccentric behavior. Like Bilbo before him, Frodo is obviously not a typical hobbit – he is destined for something greater. Not understanding his restless feelings, however, he initially tries to suppress them, lacking a clear purpose in which to channel them or a prompt to rouse him to action.
The prompt comes when Gandalf returns to the Shire, seventeen years after the birthday party, and reveals a shocking truth – that Bilbo’s Ring is, in fact, the lost One Ring for which Sauron is relentlessly searching. When he tells the story of the Ring’s origin, and the intricate chain of events that placed it in Frodo’s keeping, all Frodo can feel is disgust at the wizard’s description of Gollum. He exclaims, “What a pity Bilbo did not stab the vile creature when he had the chance!” (65), which elicits the following exchange:
“Pity? [Gandalf replied.] It was pity that stayed his hand. Pity and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity.”
“I am sorry,” said Frodo. “But I am frightened; and I do not feel any pity for Gollum.”
“You have not seen him,” Gandalf broke in.
“No, and I don’t wish to,” said Frodo. “I can’t understand you… He deserves death.”
“Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. For even the very wise cannot see all ends. I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end; and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many – yours not least.” (65-66)
Since he hasn’t seen Gollum for himself, Frodo’s revulsion doesn’t allow him to comprehend how it is possible to feel pity. It’s a concept he will have to learn before his journey’s end; suspecting that, Gandalf gives him something to think about.
It is never clear exactly how much foreknowledge God has granted to Gandalf, but the wizard obviously realizes that Frodo has been chosen for a special task, explaining that “There was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it” (61). Frodo later protests, asking the natural question, “Why did it come to me? Why was I chosen?” Gandalf responds, “Such questions cannot be answered…You may be sure that is was not for any merit that others do not possess: not for power or wisdom, at any rate. But you have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have”(67). Instead of questioning why he was chosen, Frodo must simply accept the fact that he was chosen, like our Blessed Mother at the Annunciation, like all of us at various times in our own lives. As Gandalf reminds him, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us” (56).
Frodo ponders all this, and finally, no doubt guided by the Holy Spirit, he chooses to accept his calling:
I must keep the Ring and guard it, at least for the present, whatever it may do to me… It seems that I am a danger, a danger to all that live near me. I cannot keep the Ring and stay here. I ought to leave Bag End, leave the Shire, leave everything and go away… I should like to save the Shire, if I could… I feel that as long as the Shire lies behind, safe and comfortable, I shall find wandering more bearable: I shall know that somewhere there is a firm foothold, even if my feet cannot stand there again. (68)
With those words, Frodo also acknowledges his unconditional acceptance of his vocation. Even this early in the story, he intuitively realizes that this mission will require him to sacrifice everything he holds dear, yet he commits himself to the responsibility, motivated by the desire to save the Shire. His heroism hasn’t been tested yet, but nevertheless he has taken the first step on a long, harrowing road.
The first test of Frodo’s heroism comes shortly, when he and Sam, Merry, and Pippin become separated while crossing the Barrow-downs. Searching desperately for his companions, calling out in vain through the fog and darkness, Frodo loses consciousness when he is seized by a barrow-wight with a “grip stronger and colder than iron” (159). When he wakes up, he realizes he is lying in the impenetrable darkness of a barrow – and finds his friends stretched out on the floor, still unconscious, with the shadowy arm of a barrow-wight groping for the sword that lay across Sam’s neck. At that moment, “A wild thought of escape came to him. He wondered if he put on the Ring, whether the Barrow-wight would miss him, and he might find some way out. He thought of himself running free over the grass, grieving for Merry, and Sam, and Pippin, but free and alive himself. Gandalf would admit that there had been nothing else he could do” (160).
But he remains in control over his fear and rejects the temptation. He delves down and finds the “seed of courage” deep within him, which was “now too strong: he could not leave his friends so easily… Suddenly resolve hardened in him” (159-160), and finding a sword lying nearby, he attacks the barrow-wight with all his strength. Then he has the presence of mind to call for Tom Bombadil’s help, as he had been instructed to do in such a situation, which saves his companions’ lives.
The Barrow-downs incident may be an obscure and relatively minor adventure, but it gives Frodo an opportunity to demonstrate his selfless heroism early in his journey and prepares him for the bigger challenges later on. From a reader’s perspective, we see the hand of Providence training Frodo for what lies in store.
Later on at Weathertop, Frodo nearly succumbs to a fate worse than death when the Witch King stabs him with a morgul blade. Most victims would have “faded” and fallen under the dominion of the Ringwraiths before Elrond could heal them – but not Frodo. Aragorn assures Sam that Frodo is “made out of sterner stuff than I had guessed, although Gandalf hinted it might be so. He is not slain, and I think he will resist the evil power of his wound longer than his enemies expect” (223). In fact, Frodo resists for seventeen whole days, even finding the strength to defy the Ringwraiths all alone at the Ford, brandishing his sword and invoking the name of Elbereth, in spite of his debilitating wound. Only the grace of God can explain it.
During Frodo’s convalescence in Rivendell, Gandalf observes that there is a “faint change, just a hint as it were of transparency about him” (250) and muses that “He is not half through yet, and to what he will come in the end even Elrond can not foretell. Not to evil, I think. He may become like a glass filled with clear light for eyes to see that can.” The trauma Frodo has suffered has drained his soul, so to speak, which Gandalf perceives as a visible transparency. Once drained, or “broken down,” he is ready to be “made into something quite different” and filled with the light of God’s grace. As his faith is tested through hardship on the rest of his journey, that inner light will only intensify, shining even brighter as he grows in sanctity.
After Frodo’s recovery, his journey reaches a major turning point at the Council of Elrond, an event clearly arranged by Providence.“I have not called you to me, strangers from distant lands,” says Elrond. “You have come and are here met, in this very nick of time, by chance as it may seem. Yet it is not so. Believe rather that it is so ordered that we, who sit here, and none others, must now find counsel for the peril of the world” (271).
Throughout the meeting, Frodo sits quietly, rarely speaking, as Elrond, Gandalf, and other great personages discuss the history of the Ring and conclude that the only option, futile or not, is to destroy it in the Cracks of Doom. At this point, the Council lapses into silence, and Frodo feels “a great dread [fall] on him, as if he was awaiting the pronouncement of some doom he had long foreseen and vainly hoped might after all never be spoken. An overwhelming longing to rest and remain at peace at Bilbo’s side in Rivendell filled all his heart” (303). All Frodo has to do to avoid the burden is keep silent. But he feels the stirring of the Holy Spirit in his heart, which he can’t deny, and finally he finds the courage to speak, “as if some other will was using his small voice.” With the simple yet unbelievably momentous words, “I will take the Ring, though I do not know the way,” Frodo once more commits himself on his own path to Calvary, freely choosing to deny himself and take up his cross. Elrond approves:
If I understand aright all that I have heard, I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will. This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great. Who among all the Wise could have foreseen it?… But it is a heavy burden. So heavy that none 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. (303-304)
By the time the Fellowship reaches Amon Hen, Frodo has reached another difficult decision. In order to protect his friends from the Ring’s corruption, he must leave them and continue on to Mordor alone. His only trouble is in summoning the courage to tear himself away, but when Boromir succumbs to the Ring and tries to seize it by force, Frodo is spurred into action, knowing he can’t delay any longer. His friends have been his only comfort and security on this journey thus far, and to sacrifice them along with everything he has also given up is heartwrenching. Nevertheless, he still intends to do it – and would have done it if Sam hadn’t guessed his plan and caught up to him at the boats – completely disregarding his own safety in yet another example of his quiet heroism.
Early in the next grim stage of the journey, among the barren cliffs of the Emyn Muil, Frodo reaches a major spiritual milestone when he and Sam capture Gollum, who had been following them ever since Moria. Frodo finally sees the “vile creature” in the flesh for the first time – but this is not the same Frodo who lamented Bilbo’s pity back in Bag End. This Frodo has come a long way from the Shire and grown in grace and perception, so when he actually sees Gollum for himself, he remembers his conversation with Gandalf and finally understands it. After he and Sam safely subdue Gollum, he lowers his sword. “I am afraid,” he murmurs aloud, as if speaking to Gandalf, “and yet, as you see, I will not touch the creature. For now that I see him, I do pity him” (The Two Towers, 246). Throughout the rest of the journey, he acts according to the dictates of compassion, treating Gollum decently and intervening to save his life at the Forbidden Pool. He is fully aware of the risk he is taking is allowing Gollum to live, but he serenely accepts it as the consequence of doing what is right, wishing only to help Gollum out of pure selflessness. As Tolkien writes, “[Pity and mercy] are only truly present when contrary to prudence” (Letters, 253), and that for Frodo “to ‘pity’ [Gollum], to forbear to kill him, was… a mystical belief in the ultimate value-in-itself of pity and generosity even if disastrous in the world of time” (234).
The closer he gets to Mordor, the more the Ring weighs down on Frodo; he soon feels it “as an actual weight dragging him earthwards” (TTT, 264). Far worse, however, is its escalating psychological torment. He is powerless to escape from “The Eye: that horrible growing sense of a hostile will that strove with great power to pierce all shadows of cloud, and earth, and flesh, and to see you: to pin you under its deadly gaze.” As he drags himself along slowly, often stumbling and falling behind Sam and Gollum, he may not appear to be heroic. But in reality, he is waging an internal battle against the Ring’s temptation that is every bit as heroic as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli fighting hundreds of orcs at Helm’s Deep. In addition, none of the sufferings he’s endured – which he knows will only intensify – discourage him. Faced with the futility of the Black Gate, his face is “grim and set, but resolute. He was filthy, haggard, and pinched with weariness, but he cowered no longer, and is eyes were clear” (273). To Sam and Gollum’s amazement, he declares, “I am commanded to go to the land of Mordor, and therefore I shall go… If there is only one way, then I must take it. What comes after must come.”
Frodo encounters his strongest temptation thus far at Minas Morgul. Hiding nearby, helplessly watching Sauron’s armies pour out the fortress gates and march off to battle – to battle with his friends – Frodo feels his old wound throb, along with, “more urgent than ever before, the command that he should put on the Ring. But great as the pressure was, he felt no inclination now to yield to it” (356). Nevertheless, the Ring tries to force Frodo’s will into submission, and he feels it physically drag his hand towards itself without his consent. He holds firm, however, and succeeds in overcoming the temptation with the help of Galadriel’s star glass, which he clutches in desperation. Finally, the Ring – like the devil – tempts him to give up in despair. Wondering what will happen to everyone now that Sauron has unleashed his armies, he thinks of how all is lost, his mission is in vain, and no one will ever know what happened to him. But Sam calls him back to the task at hand once the armies have passed, and then Frodo manages to overcome his weakness. “Despair had not left him, but the weakness had passed. He even smiled grimly, feeling now as clearly as a moment before he had felt the opposite, that what he had to do, he had to do, if he could, and that whether Faramir or Aragorn or Elrond or Galadriel or Gandalf knew was beside the purpose” (358).
First poisoned by Shelob and then captured by orcs, Frodo wakes up a prisoner in the tower of Cirith Ungol, helpless and bereft of hope, thinking he has failed and lost the Ring. We can only imagine the magnitude of his humiliation and agony, as he only gives Sam a brief inkling of what he has endured. “I fell into darkness and foul dreams and woke and discovered that waking was worse. Orcs were all round me… They stripped me of everything; and then… questioned me until I thought I should go mad, standing over me, gloating and fingering their knives. I’ll never forget their claws and eyes” (The Return of the King, 197). His despair is so great that he can’t even bear to tell Sam directly about the Ring, only hinting, “They’ve taken everything, Sam. Do you understand? Everything!” (198). Then “he cowered on the floor with bowed head, as his own words brought home to him the fullness of the disaster, and despair overwhelmed him.” He has plunged to his absolute nadir. But it is during the darkest moments when a soul reaches out to all it has left – God – and finds hope where there is no hope. Frodo is no exception. He can’t call out to God by name, but he refuses to capitulate and abandon his vocation, insisting, “I must carry this burden to the end. It can’t be altered” (199).
During the hobbits’ slow, painful trek across Mordor, Frodo appears rather passive and detached on the surface, unlike a normal hero, letting Sam lead the way and take charge of the food and water. But the surface is deceiving; in reality, Frodo is working every bit as hard as Sam. All his energy, strength, and willpower, body and soul, is utterly consumed with resisting the Ring. Carrying the fate of the world around his neck, he is required to devote himself unreservedly to the task, withholding nothing, not even to ensure his own survival. After the horror of Cirith Ungol, he has nothing of himself left, not even memories. Still, he keeps the degree of his misery private, only telling Sam, “there is no veil between me and the wheel of fire. I begin to see it even with my waking eyes, and all else fades” (229-230). He has known from the beginning that he has no real chance, but the knowledge continues to grow on him with every step he takes. In agony, he watches himself deteriorate under the power of the Ring, fully aware of what his happening to him but powerless to stop it. As he explains to Sam, “It is my burden, and no one else can bear it… I am almost in its power now. I could not give it up, and if you tried to take it I should go mad” (229). Yet he still perseveres, even begging Sam to hold his hand and physically restrain him from reaching for the Ring rather than yield to the pressure. His despair motivates him to continue, to surrender himself to the unknown Higher Power, heedless of whatever happens to him. “I haven’t a hope left,” he admits. “But I have to go on trying to get to the Mountain, as long as I can move” (206).
Frodo’s mission reaches its climax at Mount Doom, where, just as he had feared, he is unable to destroy the Ring by his own strength of will. What appears to be a failure, however, is actually his triumph as an instrument of Providence. “There exists the possibility of being placed in positions beyond one’s power,” Tolkien writes. “In which case (as I believe) salvation from ruin will depend on something apparently unconnected: the general sanctity (and humility and mercy) of the sacrificial person” (Letters, 252). Frodo’s arduous journey has been taking him step by step to sanctity, thus preparing him for this moment. Having learned the value of mercy, undertaken his quest in humility and fortitude, and tried his utmost, he succeeds in accomplishing what was required of him. The result is out of his hands; he has reached the point where he can surrender his task in the spirit of “Father, into Your hands, I commend my spirit” (Luke 23:46). For that he is rewarded, when God intervenes through Gollum and destroys the Ring once and for all.
When the four hobbits finally return home, Gandalf refuses to accompany them in spite of rumors of trouble brewing there, reminding them, “you must settle [the Shire’s] affairs yourselves; that is what you’ve been trained for… my dear friends, you will need no help. You are grown up now” (298). Once again, the wizard is correct. When the hobbits arrive only to find their beloved homeland mutilated and controlled by a band of “ruffians,” they succeed in rousing the loyal population and spearheading a resistance movement, soon setting matters to rights. Throughout all this, Frodo assumes a more advisory role, leaving most of the action to the others, but his significant moment soon comes when they discover that Saruman has covertly orchestrated the entire plot and taken up residence in Bag End. All the neighbors are outraged, but Frodo, realizing that the wizard’s life has deteriorated into nothing but the pursuit of shallow revenge, feels pity for him. As a result, Saruman’s threats have no power over Frodo, who simply commands him to “go at once and never return”(ROTK, 324). Meanwhile, he admonishes the crowd of hobbits, “I will not have him slain. It is useless to meet revenge with revenge: it will heal nothing” (325). Even after Saruman attempts to murder him, Frodo still refuses to let the others retaliate. “Do not kill him even now,” he insists. “For he has not hurt me. And in any case I do not wish him to be slain in this evil mood… He is fallen, and his cure is beyond us; but I would still spare him, in the hope that he may find it.” At this point, Saruman, “with a strange look in his eyes of mingled wonder and respect and hatred,” actually complies with Frodo’s order and turns to leave, forced to admit,“You have grown, Halfling…Yes, you have grown very much.”
A small hobbit now holds authority over one of the mighty Istari – an authority that can only come from God. The contrast between Saruman, whose dead body shrivels up as if “long years of death were suddenly revealed in it” (326), and Frodo, who shines like a “glass filled with clear light,” is a remarkable testament to the power of His grace.
Life in the Shire soon settles down, but Frodo still struggles, unable to find peace. He reveals the first hint of trouble before the hobbits return home, when he tells Gandalf, “There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same, for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?” (290). As time goes on, Frodo gradually isolates himself from the outside world and falls ill on every anniversary of Weathertop and Shelob’s lair. As Gandalf says, “There are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured.” Having fully expected to die, Frodo doesn’t know how to cope when he is obliged to go on living, once again uncertain of his purpose, hence his melancholy. “When his dark times came upon him,” states Tolkien, “… it was not only nightmare memories of past horrors that afflicted him, but also unreasoning self-reproach: he saw himself and all that he had done as a broken failure…[and since] he had not in fact cast away the Ring by a voluntary act[,] he was tempted to regret its destruction, and still to desire it” (Letters, 327-328).
Consequently, Frodo accepts Arwen’s offer to take her place on a ship crossing the sea to Valinor, a land untarnished by evil where the elves go to live with the Valar (angels bound to watching over Middle-earth) for as long as the world lasts. As Tolkien explains, “Frodo was… allowed to pass over Sea to heal him – if that could be done, before he died… he went both to a purgatory and to a reward, for a while: a period of reflection and peace and a gaining of a truer understanding… spent still in Time amid the natural beauty of… the Earth unspoiled by evil.” Sam protests, “I thought you were going to enjoy the Shire, too, for years and years, after all you have done” (ROTK, 337-338). Frodo replies, “So I thought too, once. But I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often been so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them” (338).
Boarding the ship at the Grey Havens and leaving Middle-earth behind forever, Frodo takes the final step in his journey of humility. Even after all the suffering he has undergone, he willingly turns aside and relinquishes the chance to savor the fruit of his sacrifice. Once again, following the pattern he had developed on his journey to Mordor, he surrenders himself to Providence, this time in hope of finding healing even though it is by no means certain. This selflessness, humility, and quiet strength is the pinnacle of his heroism and the conclusion of his spiritual journey.
A true hero does his duty, regardless of the risk or sacrifice involved, persevering in spite of his fear. Even more specifically, from our Catholic worldview, a hero devotes himself to his vocation, trusting God and working to accomplish the task that God has given him to do, whatever that may be. Frodo does that. He doesn’t fit the mold of a conventional hero, but his quiet strength and determination don’t deserve to be overlooked. On the contrary, in Tolkien’s words, “Frodo deserved all honour because he spent every drop of his power of will and body… Few others, possibly no others of his time, would have got so far” (Letters, 253). This hobbit from the Shire takes up his cross without fanfare, and emulating countless saints, perseveres on the journey to Mordor, his every grueling step a heroic one, as he strives for sanctity. Describing the essence of true holiness, St. Paul writes, “Now I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). Frodo embodies this concept as he is “broken down and made into something quite different,” as the power of God’s grace transforms him into “a glass filled with clear light for eyes to see that can.”