Pity and mercy are virtues that, plot-wise, play a crucial role in The Lord of the Rings, and in the conception of which Christian morality is the most evident. The terms are occasionally used interchangeably. Even Tolkien mentioned it in a letter in which he explained their effects on the plot and characters’ development (2006, p. 326). So, before turning to the explanation of their contribution to the overall eucatastrophe and the scholarly commentaries on this subject, it is necessary to straighten it up.
The apparent synonymy is due to the fact that both concepts were originally covered by one Latin word misericordia, literally meaning a compassionate heart, a heart that commiserates with another [miserum cor] (Aquinas, 1999, p. 2972) (1). The major difference between mercy and pity is that pity is just a feeling of sorrow for another’s evil, whereby we recognize the existence of somebody else’s misery and grieve about it; while mercy is such a strong sympathy with another’s distress that one is affected by sorrow about it as if it was one’s own evil. Consequently, one is moved to action to dispel this other of his evil as if it was one’s own. One can perceive another’s evil as one’s own either when he sees the other as his other self (as when he loves the other person) or when he is aware and fears that the same evil may befall him, for they are one kin. Hence people usually feel most pity for those who suffer undeservedly. However, it is more merciful to relieve others of such evil as comes as a punishment for their faults because then one is doing something more than justice (ibid. p.273, 2973-2979). According to Aquinas, mercy is the greatest virtue, but Tolkien (2006, p. 330) reminds us that pity and mercy are truly virtuous (like all other virtues) only when directed to the good of their object, and not if exercised only to make oneself appear in a good light. The sympathy must be genuine, not just posed for the sake of self-aggrandizement.
The Lord of the Rings shows that the successful ending of Frodo’s quest would not be possible without pity and mercy, particularly towards Gollum, being exercised by many along the way (2). Gollum is an example of a creature whose wretchedness is consequential to his faults — he is evil and murderous; therefore, utterly unpitiable. The readers, like Frodo at the beginning, find him loathsome and think he deserves punishment, death at the best. Bilbo was the first who had the chance to kill him, and it would be justifiable since Gollum threatened to eat him. But he did not do so; he was suddenly overcome with pity when he imagined how Gollum must feel in his loneliness (Tolkien, 2011a, p. 81). For a moment then, in accordance with the abovementioned characterization of the virtue, he identified with Gollum, seeing him, in Markos’s words (2012, p. 136) “as a suffering thing in need of grace”, and that moved him to mercy. Gandalf points out, that it was because of this mercy—because he was virtuous—that the Ring did not damage his spirit so much, and that it may crucially influence even other unforeseeable things. These Gandalf’s words resonate throughout the whole story, and Frodo, in time, apprehends them too (3). The longer he kept the Ring and the more it tempted him, the better he understood Gollum’s suffering, because he was now going through the same. Gollum was his doppelganger, and Frodo was afraid the same fate might befall him; thus, meeting both the ways of how another’s misery can be perceived as one’s own (4). The last to realize this was Sam who did so literally at the eleventh hour. Had Sam, before him Frodo, and ultimately Bilbo, not had mercy on Gollum, but had any of them killed him, the Ring, and Sauron with it, would never have been destroyed.
This story can thus serve as a parable for the real world. It teaches that evil can eventually be overcome by the constant exercise of mercy by the whole of humanity. On account of that the Providence will grant us the grace that the evil will be removed even if we may sometimes fail to resist it.
This brings us to the problem Tolkien was addressing in the mentioned letters, particularly in letter no. 246 (2006, p. 325-332), and that is, as many readers pointed out, that Frodo actually failed the quest. He did not destroy the Ring of his free will as he was supposed to do, instead, he proclaimed it his own; hence, he did not deserve to be praised as a hero. Tolkien defended Frodo’s heroism using his theological belief: Frodo cannot be blamed for such moral failure, because this trial was beyond his power. He only received so much grace from the Providence to bring him to the Cracks of Doom and no further (5). In other words, he only did as much as God gave him power to do. Therefore, his failure has to be forgiven him on account of his suffering on the way, his humility, patience, and mercy towards Gollum. His mercy gained him the mercy of forgiveness and possibility to go to and find spiritual healing in the paradise land of Valinor. Tolkien shows here how God’s mercy that Christians ask for in the Lord’s Prayer—forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us—works in practice. Thus, Frodo’s mercy had a double effect of salvation: a universal salvation of the whole world from Evil in the person of Sauron and Frodo’s personal salvation (ibid. p. 232-235).
The scholars who discussed this problem did not contribute much new insight into it other than what Tolkien already wrote in his letters. Kreeft (2005, p. 218) only emphasizes the fact that we may never know how our deeds may affect the future; hence, we should never omit doing a virtuous deed when we have the chance, because none of them will remain unrewarded and all of them complement to our or other’s salvation.
The contributors of Tolkien among the moderns (2015), Candler and Manganiello, both compare Tolkien’s ethics with Nietzsche’s, pointing out that while the latter found pity and mercy hideous synecdoche for Christianity, rather vices than virtues, that stifle the power of will, Tolkien’s stories are a celebration of exactly these virtues. In addition, Wood, the editor of the same book, notes this was viewed as unvirtuous also by ancient heroic societies, such as Greek, and modern meritocracies, which only showed it towards the helpless; whereas showing mercy to the sinful, undeserving persons is a purely Christian thing. However, even Christians have to be careful not to misuse it. One way of misusing pity, as I have already mentioned, is to exercise it just for self-aggrandizement. The other way is, as Markos (2015, p. 136), referring to C. S. Lewis’s thoughts, mentions: when one uses it to bind, pervert and manipulate others. Tolkien indirectly proposed one more way of how pity could contribute to one’s corruption. When Frodo offers Gandalf the Ring (Tokien, 2011b, p. 61), the wizard says that it would corrupt him through pity, which, as he states in another place (ibid. p. 814), he feels even to Sauron’s slaves. He would desire power in order to be able to help the weak ones he pities, but using the Ring to do so would make his pity unvirtuous. For no matter how good one’s intentions are, according to Christianity, they can never justify evil means. Pity is only then virtuous when it is an expression of true Christian love, caritas; shown with good intentions, and moves one to help using only appropriate means. Such is also the pity Tolkien promotes in his stories.
The charity, humility, and mercy are virtues that make Frodo a Christ-like figure. Nonetheless, both Milbank (2009, p. 100) and Caldecott (2009, p. 56) note that in the scene at Mount Doom, Frodo is the most like, yet at the same time unlike Christ. Caldecott claims that, although there are many analogies between him and Christ, Frodo is not a mere allegory of Christ, for in that case he could not fail. He is a rounded character, which agrees with Milbank’s opinion that under the influence of the Ring Frodo’s personality splits into two: in his humility, suffering and mercy, he becomes a martyr saint; unfortunately, he also develops a sinful, totally un-Christ-like addiction to the Ring. According to her, Frodo becomes a grotesque monster, half-Christ and half-Satan, and his redemption is gained only for the sake of his good side. In addition, his fate may recall the Christian tradition that God often chooses the most unlikely, unworthy creatures to be the mediators of His grace. Paradoxically, sometimes the greatest grace is granted to those who fail when God tests them, but were otherwise faithful; like St. Peter the Apostle, who disowned Christ shortly before his crucifixion although he promised to always stay with him, and despite that was given the greatest honour of becoming Christ’s vicar. Analogically, Frodo was granted to be honoured as a hero on account of the self-sacrifice and mercy preceding his failure.
The other Christ figure in the story is Aragorn, who long before his accession to Gondorian throne was depicted as a wise, just, and merciful leader. For example, he showed mercy to warriors too scared to invade Mordor by allowing them to stay behind and defend the river banks. Further, he did not punish Beregond for killing some citadel sentinels while trying to save his lord Faramir, the way the law demanded; instead, he expelled him from the town just to serve the one he murdered for. Aragorn also gave mercy to most of Sauron’s human slaves who begged for life and let them return back to their homeland. In a much lesser degree, even Faramir and Éomer show the same characteristics. They both let chance travellers (Frodo, Sam, and Gollum in the first case; Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli in the second) go pursuing their goals instead of arresting them for trespassing, as their countries’ laws dictate even when they know they would be punished, because they choose to do the objectively good thing.
Yet the ultimate image of the Christian king is Eru, the god of Middle-earth himself. The Silmarillion tells a story of another Peter-like figure, the Vala Aulë who sinned against Eru by creating dwarves, because the creation of humanoid beings—the Children of Eru—was reserved only to god. However, Eru, seeing his repentance, had mercy on his creation and gave the dwarves life (Tolkien, 1992, p. 38).
However, not everyone is able to accept offered mercy, especially the sinful ones who are shown it undeservedly. Such is the case with Saruman, Wormtongue, and partially even Gollum and Túrin in The Silmarillion. The problem of the first three is that their minds are already so twisted that they are unable to see things from the viewpoint of good. They are so evil that they expect everybody else has the same selfish worldview as they and do not understand that people may do kind deeds for others just for their sake, without any side intentions. They do not see offered mercy as an opportunity for change, self-improvement, and ultimately “a door to salvation”, as Dickerson notes (2003, p. 160), but as a means which others use to humiliate and subdue them, because that is what they would use it for. They cannot imagine someone would genuinely want to help them become better. In consequence, rejecting mercy, they run towards a much worse fate, ending with self-destruction and damnation. Of the three, Gollum is the least impenitent. Though highly suspicious about Frodo’s mercy and care, he slowly learns to accept it and is to a certain extent even moved by it; it re-awaking his long-forgotten good self. The shown mercy has a healing effect on him, moving him if not outright to repentance, then at least into doubting his murderous plans. Were it not for Sam interrupting his thoughts (Tolkien, 2011b, p. 714), he could have, at least for some time, turned for the better. Unlike Gollum, Wormtongue learns the power of mercy the hard way. Refusing Théoden’s mercy, he runs to Saruman, but being mistreated by him, he changes his mind and becomes inclined to accept it and repent; however, he is too afraid of Saruman to leave him. Saruman then is the most stubborn of the three, refusing the offer to join the side of good three times. He is too proud to repent his evil deeds, and thus, he feels offended by Frodo’s mercy (ibid. p. 1019). Pride is also the prime reason for refusing Thingol’s mercy and apology in Túrin’s case (Tolkien, 1992, p. 237).
Resources
Caldecott, S., 1999. Over the Chasm of Fire: Christian Heroism in Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion. In Pearce, J., Tolkien: A Celebration, 1999. Ignatius Press, 210 pp. ISBN 978-0-898-70866-0. Available online at: https://archive.secondspring.co.uk/articles/scaldecott14.htm
Caldecott, S., The Power of the Ring: The Spiritual Vision Behind the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, 2009, New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 2012. 256 s. ISBN 082454983X
Candler, P.M., Tolkien or Nietzsche; Philology and Nihilism, In Wood, R. C., Tolkien among the Moderns, 2015, University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. 312 pp. ISBN 978-0-268-09674-8
Dickerson, M., Following Gandalf: Epic Battles and Moral Victory in the Lord of the Rings, 2003, Ada: Brazos Press, 2003. 234 s. ISBN 1-587-43085-1
Juričková, M., 2016a, The Concept of False Friendship in Tolkien’s novel The Lord of the Rings: diploma thesis, Nitra: UKF, 2016, 94 s.
Kreeft, P., The Philosophy of Tolkien: The Worldview Behind the Lord of the Rings, 2005, Ignatius Press, 2005. 237 pp. ISBN 1-58617-025-2
Manganielo, D., Pouring New Wine into Old Bottles: Tolkien, Joyce, and the Modern Epic, In Wood, R. C., Tolkien among the Moderns, 2015, University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. 312 pp. ISBN 978-0-268-09674-8
Markos, L., On the Shoulders of Hobbits: The Road to Virtue with Tolkien and Lewis, 2012, Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2012. 240 s. ISBN 978-0-8024-4319-9
Milbank, A., Chesterton and Tolkien as Theologians, 2009, Edinburgh: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2009. 202 s. ISBN 0-567-39041-1
St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, [online], 1999, Raleigh: Hayes Barton Press, 1999. 5507 pp. ISBN 1-59377-495-8, online available at books.google.com
Tolkien, J.R.R., The Hobbit, 2011a, London: HarperCollins, 1937. 336 pp. ISBN 978-0-261-10334-4
Tolkien, J.R.R., The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, 2011b, London: HarperCollins, 1954. 424 pp. ISBN 978-0-261-10357-3
Tolkien, J.R.R., The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, 2011b, London: HarperCollins, 1954. 464 pp. ISBN 978-0-261-10359-7
Tolkien, J.R.R., The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, 2011b, London: HarperCollins, 1956. 352 pp. ISBN 978-0-261-10358-0
Tolkien, J.R.R.; Carpenter, H. (ed.), The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 2006, London: HarperCollins, 1981. 502 pp. ISBN 978-0-261-10265-1
Tolkien, J.R.R., The Silmarillion, 1992, London: HarperCollins, 1992. 480 pp. ISBN 978-0-261-10273-6
Wood, R. C., Tolkien among the Moderns, 2015, University of Notre Dame Press, 2015. 312 pp. ISBN 978-0-268-09674-8 , Available at books.google.com (no pagination)
(1) Etymological note: Old English used a loan-translation mildheortness [= mild-heartness] until the turn of 12th and 13th century when it was substituted by word of French origin—pite [= pity]. At about the same time, another French word—merci—was introduced into English language, derived from Latin mercedem, meaning reward. I was not able to trace down the exact moment or reason when and why the French superseded the word miséricorde by merci for the same context, but it may have something to do with the rewarding-like effects of misericordia. (www.etymonline.com)
(2) Another notable example of pity making a crucial change in the development of the plot for good is found in the scene when Éowyn challenges the Witchking (Tolkien, 2011b, p. 841). Merry’s heart was then filled with pity for her, and out of that pity rose his courage to attack the monster, which in turn, allowed Éowyn to deliver him the death blow. Without being overcome with pity, he would maybe never have gathered enough courage to do so, and their enemy would not be killed.
(3) “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. …[Gollum] Deserves [death]! 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 judgement. 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.” (Tolkien, 2011b, p. 59)
(4) I discussed this phenomenon in my diploma thesis. See Juričková, 2016a, p. 50-51.
(5) The religious symbolism of this name is more than intriguing and, knowing Tolkien’s interest in philology, in no way accidental. The phrase “crack of doom” denotes “The Christian Day of Judgment, when God assigns an eternal fate to all individual humans,” or “[b]y extension, the apocalypse or end of the world, or a signal thereof,” (www.thefreedictionary.com). So the Middle-earth Cracks of Doom (a common speech name for the Elvish Sammath Naur, which literary means “Fiery Chasm”) represent a place where the final judgement over the fictive world is to be held. And “by chance”, the doom of world happens to depend on Frodo.