One of These Things Is Not Like the Others
In the wake of the overwhelming success of JRR Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, publishers started scrambling for more fantasy that hit the same notes. The immediate fruits of these searches were the careers of Terry Brooks (The Sword of Shannara and its sequels), David Eddings (the Belgariad and several other series) and Stephen R. Donaldson (Thomas Covenant and a few lesser-known fantasy worlds). Over the long term, epic fantasy was launched as a distinct commercial genre separate from science fiction and in many ways a much larger market, even with the success of Star Wars and its various imitators.
Yet while the vast outpouring of epic fantasy imitated Tolkien in various elements of the worldbuilding -- the vast and meticulously detailed setting, the "five races" in one or another variation, the Dark Lord threatening the good folk, the motley group of adventurers drawn together through happenstance to become the ensemble of protagonists -- they generally fall back on a traditional interpretation of the Hero's Quest. Thus it becomes easy to overlook the way in which Tolkien departed from that traditional narrative arc in ways that are profoundly thought-provoking.
Most obviously, the traditional Hero's Quest involves finding or retrieving the Object Of Great Importance, but The Lord of the Rings begins with the Object Of Great Importance already in the protagonists' possession -- but the whole reason for its Great Importance is so profoundly negative that not only is it Too Dangerous To Use, even for good purposes, but even just allowing it to continue to exist represents a profound peril. It needs to be destroyed, preferably ASAP -- but given its dark magical nature, destroying it is nearly impossible. There's only one place in all of Middle-Earth where it can be unmade, and that lies in the heart of the realm of the very Dark Lord who made it, who is searching far and wide to recover it, and who must be kept at all costs from obtaining it.
Furthermore, the profoundly negative nature of the One Ring means that it slowly and insidiously corrupts anyone who associates with it for long -- and the closer one takes it to Sauron's realm of Mordor, the more powerful its effect on the person. So long as Frodo remained in the Shire and pretty much left what he regarded as Bilbo's heirloom on a shelf, it weighed on him relatively little -- although he found himself oddly reluctant to allow it to be tossed into the hearth-fire so that Gandalf could read the hidden inscription. But the further Frodo went southward toward Mordor and his goal, the heavier the Ring weighed upon his mind, and the more he became aware of the presence of the Enemy, with whom the Ring had an unbreakable affinity. The Ring became both an agonizing burden and an irresistible temptation. And that brings us to the most important difference between The Lord of the Rings and typical epic fantasy: while the climax of the traditional fantasy quest is the Hero's Triumph, Tolkien gives us the Hero's Failure.
Yes, at the critical moment Frodo Baggins' willpower breaks and he fails in the most catastrophic manner imaginable, given the stakes that have been built up over three volumes. He has come all this distance, on foot and against incredible odds, and is finally standing on the edge of the fissure that opens into the heart of Mount Doom, looking down at the glowing lava which is the only fire sufficient to destroy the One Ring and with it Sauron's power. But when he pulls the Ring out to throw it in, he hesitates, seeing how beautiful it is. And then, instead of completing the mission for which he was sent, he commits the unthinkable: he puts the One Ring on his finger to proclaim himself its master.
And then, just when it looks as if everything is lost, salvation comes through the actions of one who is even more enthralled by the evil power of the Ring. Yes, Gollum has been tracking Frodo and Samwise all the way from Cirith Ungol, the Tower of the Spider, where he betrayed Frodo to Shelob. He can't help himself -- the Ring calls to him, and he cannot bear the thought of it being destroyed, or even claimed by another. And in that moment he bites Frodo's finger right off in his desperation to recover the Ring, and in his glee at having recovered his Precious that he overbalances and falls down the abyss into the lava. Gollum was not only undone by his own addiction to the power of the Ring, but also became the Ring's unmaking -- a situation made possible much earlier, during the trek across the outskirts of Sauron's realm, when Frodo decided not to kill Gollum, but instead to make him pledge obedience, a course of action Sam deeply disapproved, given Gollum's treacherous nature.
Thus the Ring is destroyed and the Quest fulfilled, but at terrible cost. Frodo is maimed both physically and mentally, and while he does go home to the Shire and Bag End, he finds that he is no longer able to be at home there, even after having cleaned out Sharkey's ruffians and restored the traditional hobbitish social order. We are left wondering how much of his anguish is from his maimed hand, and how much is from his failure at Mount Doom. Would things would have gone better for him had he been able to carry through his mission and cast the Ring into the fire by his own will?
It is one of the peculiarities of The Lord of the Rings that in it the Hero's Quest is not carried out by the strong and doughty warriors -- all the military action is in fact a feint, a maskirovka intended to draw the Dark Lord's attention away -- but by a much weaker character who, when push comes to shove, fails at his mission but it succeeds because he had earlier spared an even weaker character, one he had every reason to suspect and to slay. Almost all Tolkien's imitators have instead had protagonists who surmount their weaknesses at that critical moment and who win by their own efforts, making them far more traditional heroes
Yet while the vast outpouring of epic fantasy imitated Tolkien in various elements of the worldbuilding -- the vast and meticulously detailed setting, the "five races" in one or another variation, the Dark Lord threatening the good folk, the motley group of adventurers drawn together through happenstance to become the ensemble of protagonists -- they generally fall back on a traditional interpretation of the Hero's Quest. Thus it becomes easy to overlook the way in which Tolkien departed from that traditional narrative arc in ways that are profoundly thought-provoking.
Most obviously, the traditional Hero's Quest involves finding or retrieving the Object Of Great Importance, but The Lord of the Rings begins with the Object Of Great Importance already in the protagonists' possession -- but the whole reason for its Great Importance is so profoundly negative that not only is it Too Dangerous To Use, even for good purposes, but even just allowing it to continue to exist represents a profound peril. It needs to be destroyed, preferably ASAP -- but given its dark magical nature, destroying it is nearly impossible. There's only one place in all of Middle-Earth where it can be unmade, and that lies in the heart of the realm of the very Dark Lord who made it, who is searching far and wide to recover it, and who must be kept at all costs from obtaining it.
Furthermore, the profoundly negative nature of the One Ring means that it slowly and insidiously corrupts anyone who associates with it for long -- and the closer one takes it to Sauron's realm of Mordor, the more powerful its effect on the person. So long as Frodo remained in the Shire and pretty much left what he regarded as Bilbo's heirloom on a shelf, it weighed on him relatively little -- although he found himself oddly reluctant to allow it to be tossed into the hearth-fire so that Gandalf could read the hidden inscription. But the further Frodo went southward toward Mordor and his goal, the heavier the Ring weighed upon his mind, and the more he became aware of the presence of the Enemy, with whom the Ring had an unbreakable affinity. The Ring became both an agonizing burden and an irresistible temptation. And that brings us to the most important difference between The Lord of the Rings and typical epic fantasy: while the climax of the traditional fantasy quest is the Hero's Triumph, Tolkien gives us the Hero's Failure.
Yes, at the critical moment Frodo Baggins' willpower breaks and he fails in the most catastrophic manner imaginable, given the stakes that have been built up over three volumes. He has come all this distance, on foot and against incredible odds, and is finally standing on the edge of the fissure that opens into the heart of Mount Doom, looking down at the glowing lava which is the only fire sufficient to destroy the One Ring and with it Sauron's power. But when he pulls the Ring out to throw it in, he hesitates, seeing how beautiful it is. And then, instead of completing the mission for which he was sent, he commits the unthinkable: he puts the One Ring on his finger to proclaim himself its master.
And then, just when it looks as if everything is lost, salvation comes through the actions of one who is even more enthralled by the evil power of the Ring. Yes, Gollum has been tracking Frodo and Samwise all the way from Cirith Ungol, the Tower of the Spider, where he betrayed Frodo to Shelob. He can't help himself -- the Ring calls to him, and he cannot bear the thought of it being destroyed, or even claimed by another. And in that moment he bites Frodo's finger right off in his desperation to recover the Ring, and in his glee at having recovered his Precious that he overbalances and falls down the abyss into the lava. Gollum was not only undone by his own addiction to the power of the Ring, but also became the Ring's unmaking -- a situation made possible much earlier, during the trek across the outskirts of Sauron's realm, when Frodo decided not to kill Gollum, but instead to make him pledge obedience, a course of action Sam deeply disapproved, given Gollum's treacherous nature.
Thus the Ring is destroyed and the Quest fulfilled, but at terrible cost. Frodo is maimed both physically and mentally, and while he does go home to the Shire and Bag End, he finds that he is no longer able to be at home there, even after having cleaned out Sharkey's ruffians and restored the traditional hobbitish social order. We are left wondering how much of his anguish is from his maimed hand, and how much is from his failure at Mount Doom. Would things would have gone better for him had he been able to carry through his mission and cast the Ring into the fire by his own will?
It is one of the peculiarities of The Lord of the Rings that in it the Hero's Quest is not carried out by the strong and doughty warriors -- all the military action is in fact a feint, a maskirovka intended to draw the Dark Lord's attention away -- but by a much weaker character who, when push comes to shove, fails at his mission but it succeeds because he had earlier spared an even weaker character, one he had every reason to suspect and to slay. Almost all Tolkien's imitators have instead had protagonists who surmount their weaknesses at that critical moment and who win by their own efforts, making them far more traditional heroes