Tolkien Tuesday: Re-Reading "The Lord of the Rings": "Fog on the Barrow-downs"
Th hobbits' frightful encounter with the Barrow-wight reveals Tolkien's remarkable skill as a writer.
Hello, dear reader! Do you like what you read here at Omnivorous? Do you like reading fun but insightful takes on all things pop culture? Do you like supporting indie writers? If so, then please consider becoming a subscriber and get the newsletter delivered straight to your inbox. There are a number of paid options, but you can also sign up for free! Every little bit helps. Thanks for reading and now, on with the show!
Welcome to Tolkien Tuesdays, where I talk about various things that I love about the lore and writings of Tolkien, whether in a chapter reading or a character study or an essay. I hope you enjoy reading these ruminations as much as I enjoy writing them and, if you have a moment, I’d love it if you’d subscribe to this newsletter. It’s free, but there are paid options, as well, if you’re of a mind to support a struggling writer. Either way, thank you for joining me!
One of the things that I’ve always appreciated about Tolkien is his ability to create a series of scenes that move through different affective registers: from joy to horror to pathos and back to joy. This dynamic is very much in evidence in “Fog on the Barrow-downs” which, as one might guess from the title, follows Frodo and his companions as they find themselves ensnared by one of the sinister Barrow-wights. Fortunately for them all, Frodo has the presence of mind to summon Tom Bombadil, and the jolly fellow saves them from the wight’s grip and sends them on their way to Bree.
The beginning of this chapter is very much a continuation of what we saw in the previous one, and there’s a sweet poignance to the hobbits’ parting from Goldberry in particular. The sight of her standing on the hill as Frodo departs is one that sticks in my memory, a reminder of a little island of tranquility that the hobbits must leave if they are to continue pursuing their path. It is but one of the many partings that occur throughout Fellowship, each one a reminder of what must be given up if the hero is to fulfill his quest. Even so, there is still the sense that Tom and Goldberry are an island of joy in an increasingly turbulent world.
Indeed, it isn’t long before Frodo and the rest of the hobbits find themselves hopping out of the frying pan and into the fire. The entire sequence in which they slowly fall under the shadow of the Barrow-downs is perfectly-crafted horror, from the way the single stone in its lonely circle is described–”shapeless and yet significant: like a landmark, or a guarding finger, or more like a warning”--to the way that the fog envelops the hobbits as they try to find their way. You can practically feel the encroaching danger, just waiting to snatch up these little folk and consign them to a dark oblivion.
All of which brings us, of course, to the sinister Barrow-wight itself. We don’t get much of a description of it, and this is exactly what makes it so sinister. The most we get is Frodo’s impression of a dark figure looming up in the darkness–with those cold, cold eyes–and the hand that creeps out of the darkness of the tunnel in the mound itself. Tolkien, skilled writer that he was, realized that things become even more horrifying and terrifying when we can’t see them. To have seen the wight in all of its chill majesty would have been to rob it of its mystery and sinister aspect.
Now imprisoned in one of the barrows and at the mercy of a wight, Frodo has a choice to make: does he put on the Ring and flee, saving himself and condemning his friends, or does he stay and try to save them? As the narrator rightly points out, there is often a seed of bravery in any hobbit, and so it’s not surprising that Frodo opts for the latter, striking the hand with a sword and calling out for Tom’s aid. It’s striking the extent to which the Ring has already begun to make its presence felt in Frodo’s psyche, drawing on his heightened fear to offer him a means of salvation. It is fortunate indeed for both Frodo and the rest of his company that his deep-seated loyalty is strong enough to overcome both his desire for self-preservation and the sinister influence of the One Ring.
This entire sequence unfolds like a horror film, but as with so much horror there is also light at the end of the tunnel. Tom Bombadil is never far away, and it’s very fortunate indeed that he has the power to banish the wight, sending it screaming into the darkness. It’s what happens after the rescue that interests me more, however, particularly the moment when Tom takes a brooch and proclaims that it will be a “toy” for Tom and Goldberry, a means of remembering the woman who once wore it. There’s something more than a little sad about this passage, I think, as it is yet another reminder of how much has vanished in the North, and how the forces of Angmar brought about the death and destruction of so many. We see this sense of sadness again when they pass what was once a boundary. Though Tom is, as a rule, a very merry fellow, these incidents make it clear that, like all of the other long-lived beings in Middle-earth, he has seen many great tragedies. The weight of history is a heavy burden to bear, even for someone as powerful as Tom Bombadil.
When it comes right down to it, the world that Frodo and his companions wander through is an ancient one, and this is another reminder that its greatest moments are far behind it. It’s a world that has seen many great and powerful kingdoms–and the people who rule them–brought down into darkness and defeat. Yet even here there is hope, for the hobbits are blessed with a vision of mighty Men, some of whom still walk in the same world as they do. Though we won’t find this out for some time to come, these are of course the Dunedain, and the glimpse of a man with a star on his brow is none other than Aragorn. There’s a beauty and a majesty to this passage, made all the more acute by the sense of mystery which pervades it.
“Fog on the Barrow-downs” is, overall, a fascinating chapter, another little sojourn on the journey toward an uncertain future. And, though it might seem at first as if it serves no purpose–i.e., it doesn’t move the narrative forward in any discernible way–there is actually a purpose here, though it won’t be obvious for quite some time to come. For, as it transpires, those blades that Tom gifts to the hobbits will come to rule the fates of many.
That’s all for this week. Next week, we’ll rejoin Frodo and company as they journey into the small town of Bree. Join me then!