Re-reading the Lord of the Rings, Chapter 12
Together with the mountains the rules underlying Middle-earth come into view.
We observe a battle of the wills, both darkness and light tearing at Frodo.
The spirit world into which Frodo is gliding is like a parallel design for all things, one that is controlled through the knowledge of its making, where the novice is at the mercy of the master.
This parallel design is at odds with the powers that the world has been imbued with for anyone to use, sunlight, fire, water and ultimately also the mercy that has been stored up to answer prayers.
It is by now clear that the Elves represent man's hope to come into his own and as such they counter the spell of the Ringwraiths, who are masters of the dark design.
The power of the latter over Frodo's, or anybody's, mind comes from their ability to let him forget the world out there and his place in it. Frodo, for the second time, can't hold his own and sinks into their dream. It is clear enough that he'll fail at the Cracks of Doom again, whereas Gollum's peculiar interest in the depths of the world makes him much better suited to appreciate the waking reality there.
I should state that in reality not only black dreams are being spun. The test for the make of a dream is, whether it embraces God as the creator or not. Gandalf alludes to this occasionally, but only vaguely, for a clearer account see the Silmarillion.
Another test is whether the make of the dream reveals itself on its own or not, whether it sparks off insight or whether it tries to muffle it.
And harking back to Tom Bombadil once more, the getting always appears greater than the having and there's the same kind of lurking betrayal at the sight of both science and Elves, for the inner poverty doesn't know how to handle any freely received fullness. In fact, all fullness starts with renunciation, for it expands from sphere to sphere and can never be made to fit the remaining emptiness. And this is also true of the dreamer, who plunges into a dream, for he renounces alot, when he does so. But the dreamer can be betrayed himself, for he can feel content for a while also in a dark dream.
So, in a way, Tolkien is skirting the edges of doom here, by being a little too fond of giftedness. It makes me appreciate George Lucas more, who had the good sense not to portray Darth Vader as a fallen angel, because that's really not the way it usually goes, if ever, it's usually, if not always, a getting caught up in the consequences of too great a power to wield with too little an understanding of what's going on, i.e. a Greek tragedy.
The Elven thing is from another mind though, one which runs into the tragedy, because it only knows intent. I guess Tolkien, despite his take on world events since World War I, still trusted will to rectify everything. But as much pony sense as people might possess, without understanding they'll fall for one illusion after the other. The truth of the matter is that something, which is not meant to rule, can always be influenced in such a way as to produce the desired rule. As difficult as it is to create a deceptive icon - it is virtually impossible, - as easy is it to lead an honest icon astray or, if need be, destroy it, so that the bar can be lowered and an icon riddled with mistakes can guide the people.
It is noteworthy in this regard that even in Rivendell there are only a handful, who can ride alone against the Nine.
And what is their make? Have they started out as blind dreamers? Did they get showered in precious gifts? Or did they take the solemn vow not to demand anything that isn't theirs?
(Given the somewhat checkered past of many Elves this remains somewhat of an appeal, though Galadriel at least lives up to it.)
Also, jumping to the end of the story, who is truly at peace at the end, Sam, Merry and Pippin, who stay in Middle-earth, or Frodo and Bilbo, who sail to the Undying Lands?
Is it not so that nothing can make Frodo and Bilbo full again after they couldn't resign themselves anymore to the Shire? They would become traitors, lest they died on their way up the ladder.
We observe a battle of the wills, both darkness and light tearing at Frodo.
The spirit world into which Frodo is gliding is like a parallel design for all things, one that is controlled through the knowledge of its making, where the novice is at the mercy of the master.
This parallel design is at odds with the powers that the world has been imbued with for anyone to use, sunlight, fire, water and ultimately also the mercy that has been stored up to answer prayers.
It is by now clear that the Elves represent man's hope to come into his own and as such they counter the spell of the Ringwraiths, who are masters of the dark design.
The power of the latter over Frodo's, or anybody's, mind comes from their ability to let him forget the world out there and his place in it. Frodo, for the second time, can't hold his own and sinks into their dream. It is clear enough that he'll fail at the Cracks of Doom again, whereas Gollum's peculiar interest in the depths of the world makes him much better suited to appreciate the waking reality there.
I should state that in reality not only black dreams are being spun. The test for the make of a dream is, whether it embraces God as the creator or not. Gandalf alludes to this occasionally, but only vaguely, for a clearer account see the Silmarillion.
Another test is whether the make of the dream reveals itself on its own or not, whether it sparks off insight or whether it tries to muffle it.
And harking back to Tom Bombadil once more, the getting always appears greater than the having and there's the same kind of lurking betrayal at the sight of both science and Elves, for the inner poverty doesn't know how to handle any freely received fullness. In fact, all fullness starts with renunciation, for it expands from sphere to sphere and can never be made to fit the remaining emptiness. And this is also true of the dreamer, who plunges into a dream, for he renounces alot, when he does so. But the dreamer can be betrayed himself, for he can feel content for a while also in a dark dream.
So, in a way, Tolkien is skirting the edges of doom here, by being a little too fond of giftedness. It makes me appreciate George Lucas more, who had the good sense not to portray Darth Vader as a fallen angel, because that's really not the way it usually goes, if ever, it's usually, if not always, a getting caught up in the consequences of too great a power to wield with too little an understanding of what's going on, i.e. a Greek tragedy.
The Elven thing is from another mind though, one which runs into the tragedy, because it only knows intent. I guess Tolkien, despite his take on world events since World War I, still trusted will to rectify everything. But as much pony sense as people might possess, without understanding they'll fall for one illusion after the other. The truth of the matter is that something, which is not meant to rule, can always be influenced in such a way as to produce the desired rule. As difficult as it is to create a deceptive icon - it is virtually impossible, - as easy is it to lead an honest icon astray or, if need be, destroy it, so that the bar can be lowered and an icon riddled with mistakes can guide the people.
It is noteworthy in this regard that even in Rivendell there are only a handful, who can ride alone against the Nine.
And what is their make? Have they started out as blind dreamers? Did they get showered in precious gifts? Or did they take the solemn vow not to demand anything that isn't theirs?
(Given the somewhat checkered past of many Elves this remains somewhat of an appeal, though Galadriel at least lives up to it.)
Also, jumping to the end of the story, who is truly at peace at the end, Sam, Merry and Pippin, who stay in Middle-earth, or Frodo and Bilbo, who sail to the Undying Lands?
Is it not so that nothing can make Frodo and Bilbo full again after they couldn't resign themselves anymore to the Shire? They would become traitors, lest they died on their way up the ladder.