So we come now to the final chapter of Lord of the Rings.
This is Sam’s chapter, even more so perhaps than “The Choices of Master Samwise” and “The Tower of Cirith Ungol.” Because Sam was always, at his heart, a gardener, and that is what he does in this chapter with the restoration of the Shire: gardening writ large. And not like the vision the Ring tempted him with, of Mordor transformed into a garden. At the time, he reflected that:
The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.
One might consider the Shire something like “a garden swollen to a realm,” but Sam never claims anything like ownership. And more importantly, it is his own hands that do the work. He keeps himself so busy that, while he eventually notices Frodo withdrawing from the affairs of the Shire, he never notices that he is accorded just as much respect as Merry and Pippin.
This entire chapter is looking forward into the Fourth Age. It’s there when Sam marries Rosie and they have their first daughter Elanor - few things are more forward-looking than a new child, and Frodo talks about all the other children Sam will eventually have (spoiler: the total ends up being thirteen). It’s there when the chapter mentions that the year 1420 of the Shire-reckoning became a byword long into the future, when a good pint of ale might be called “a proper 1420.” It’s there when Frodo assures Sam that he’s meant to be solid and whole for many years to come. And it’s there when Frodo passes him the Red Book. A theme I’ve mentioned fairly often in this read-along is that the best stories never end. It’s fitting, then, that Frodo doesn’t give Sam a completed manuscript - there are blank pages left for Sam to complete as the story continues.
Like in “The Scouring of the Shire,” Frodo’s presence here is minimal. Here we come to the theme that was touched on in the last chapter:
I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them.
Frodo gave everything he had in the Quest, and what’s left isn’t enough to live on. So he (and Bilbo) get to go to the West, and be healed of their hurts and find peace. His willing sacrifices earned him that grace. This is the end of the Fellowship, the one that truly began not at Rivendell, but at Crickhollow when Merry and Pippin made it clear that Frodo was stuck with them like it or not. This has always been a Hobbit story, and with Hobbits is where it ends.
Wise words from Gandalf, as always, and appropriate ones. If there was ever an ending more sad and sweet than this one, I don’t know of it.
Next time, I’ll give some thoughts on Lord of the Rings as a whole and talk about what will come next.
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