Rings, Swamps, and When All Hope Seems Lost |

By Gregory Meyer
July 10, 2015

“Come, Mr. Frodo!” [Samwise] cried. “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you and it as well. So up you get! … Just tell him where to go, and he’ll go.” —Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien

Since about 2013, I’ve been ever so slowly working my way through the most glaring series in my backlog of novels: J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. Since most of my friends are huge fans of the venerable Oxford professor, I decided that I needed to be part of the conversation, too. Given that most of my interests as of late consist of world building, Anglo-Saxon history and mythology, and monsters, this was right up my alley. Currently I’m three chapters away from finishing Return of the King, and then onward to The Silmarillion I shall go, for in Middle Earth “the road goes ever on and on.”

While I’ve enjoyed the heroic exploits of Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and even Merry and Pippin, it’s the trials of Frodo Baggins and Samwise that’s resonated with me the most. Watching brave Frodo go from the heroic hobbit saving his friends from the frightening Barrow Wights to end up practically crawling up Mt. Doom is heart wrenching. Tolkien shows the reader the magnetic attraction and power the ring has over even the purest of hearts, twisting a kind-hearted soul into a pathetic pawn who can’t complete his quest. It’s daring of the author to show the main character fail at what should be his crowning achievement.

From LOTR Wiki

Back when Return of the King was in theaters, I heard many people mock Frodo for being weak. Many consider Samwise the true hero of the story, and in some ways, they’re right. Samwise is loyal and brave, sacrificing food, comfort, and rest to reach the final push of their journey. There’s much to admire about the stubborn gardener, but these people are missing the point. Frodo was always the true hero of Lord of the Rings. It’s Frodo who accepts the burden, and I do mean burden, of carrying the responsibility of destroying the one ring. Remember, Gandalf with all of his power and wisdom refused to even toy with taking this burden on his shoulders, well aware that it would twist even his own soul. It’s Frodo who protects his comrades from trying to use the ring for their honest intentions and runs away with Samwise to make sure their quest is completed without the aid of stronger allies.

It’s easier to relate with characters who suffer from physical injuries, because we can see them with our own eyes. If someone gets a paper cut, we wince because almost all of us know the pain that comes with it. When Luke gets his hand cut off in The Empire Strikes Back, the viewer knows that has to hurt. When Frodo can’t move one foot past the other on Mt. Doom, it’s easy to say “Come on, just get up and do your job!” We don’t know what kind of mental exhaustion the poor hobbit is going through or the temptations the ring is exerting over his weakened mind. We aren’t getting a window directly into his thoughts, only physical descriptions of his weary body and frazzled mind. To anyone else, Frodo is a worthless companion, a load if you will. But Samwise understands the weight hanging on Frodo’s shoulders, and responds to Frodo’s doubt with assurance and resolve to finish the quest.

I can sympathize with Frodo because, if I can be honest here, I suffer from depression and chronic anxiety. Every time I reveal my thoughts and ideas to you through the words I speak and write, I’m a wreck because part of me thinks I have nothing worth saying to anyone. Every day I put on a mask that’s happy and optimistic, using humor to make people laugh when I can. I love being funny and seeing people having a good time, but often I’m hiding a constant sadness and loneliness. I can be in a room full of people I call close friends and confidants, yet once they leave I sink back into a dark, miserable place. The worst part is, I can be down in the dumps and can’t even point to a root cause to it all.

I’m a happily married man, a professing Christian, and have some of the very best friends in the world, yet from day to day I have this gloomy cloud that hovers over me. If I’m really being honest, in my weakest of moments I’ve even had brief thoughts of just ending it all. The most recent bout of this in January of this year made me realize that I needed help, so I sought out a therapist and am working on developing mental techniques to combat these dark thoughts that can cloud my mind.

It’s hard for me to expose these feelings I have, as it goes against the things I’ve heard in church growing up. “Christians should be joyful! We have hope in a Savior! Being depressed is the work of the enemy!” I am unshaken in my faith in Christ and His saving grace, and I am joyful of it, but its neither helpful or Christlike to just tell the downtrodden that they’re wrong for their feelings or not trusting in the Lord. Many of the heroes in Scripture fell into depression. Even Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane experienced these feelings before facing His trial.

From TheArtifice.com

I’m reminded of one of my favorite movies, The Neverending Story, and there’s one scene that’s stuck with me since I saw it as a child. In it, Atreyu and his horse Artax attempt to cross the Swamps of Sadness, a place that drowns those who cannot overcome the cloying hopelessness that covers the mire. Despite Atreyu’s fierce encouragement, Artax gives up and allows himself to drown in the swamp. Soon even Atreyu comes close to a terrible end but is saved in the end by the aid of someone else. The swamp is a lonely place that will overcome some, but have hope and don’t give up, there’s a way out.

I say these things not for sympathy, but to raise awareness to the hidden pain and injuries the people around us suffer from every day. It’s not as simple as just telling someone to keep their chin up and get over themselves. People who suffer from depression aren’t lazy, they just can’t see the hope that lies beyond the horizon. I have a hard time seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and I can’t get there alone. It takes people who are willing to be Samwise, the loyal friend who has the patience and willingness to help shoulder the intangible burden and carry the hopeless through the most unforgiving mountains and the bleakest of swamps.