Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, O’Connor, Tolkien, Tea, Wednesday.

It is pouring rain. Three drenched figures approach the green door of an elegantly designed hobbit-hole. The shortest figure lifts one crutch and taps at the door, which is promptly opened by J. R. R. Tolkien. Tolkien wears a mahogany smoking jacket and holds a large pipe with a six-inch-long stem. The three figures introduce themselves as the authors Friderich Nietzsche, Fyodor Dostoevsky, and Flannery O’Connor, and Tolkien invites them in for evening tea. 

TOLKIEN: Well, well! Come on in, my friends. There is hot tea, poached eggs on toast, cheese, and of course, my specialty: seed-cake!

[Everyone settles comfortably in Tolkien’s dining-room and begins eating and drinking. Flannery O’Connor finishes her tea, thumps her crutches on the floor, and looks restlessly about the room.]

O’CONNOR: Listen, seeing as we’re all authors gathered here under the generous roof of our friend John Ronald, and since this rain is unlikely to let up any time soon, why don’t we make a night of it and discuss some important philosophical topics?

NIETZSCHE: Oh no! I won’t hear anything of philosophy discussed by this––this woman, this product of God's “second blunder” (Nietzsche 176)! Why, just consider how “weak and ill-constituted” (128) she is—she’s hobbling around on crutches, for pity’s sake!

TOLKIEN: Pity! A perfect topic. In fact, pity was an important focus in one of my earlier literary works, The Hobbit, which has been on my mind for quite some time today. You have a keen mind, Mr. Nietzsche.

DOSTOYEVSKY: Yes. Pity can be a complicated concept, but I think an important point to remember is that pity offered through love can effect a “resurrection” of sorts on the recipient, as well as on the giver. A concrete example of this dynamic would be when the character Liza, from my work Notes from Underground, grows in strength of character through her acts of pity and concern for the main character (Dostoevsky 126). She can then turn her back on a life of degradation and move forward (127). I believe that having pity on someone who has abused you can equip you with the courage to overcome other difficulties in life, and therefore I would even go so far as to call pity a virtue.

NIETZSCHE: What?! Then you, my dear sir, must never have read my work, The Anti-Christ, in which I demonstrate that pity is anything but a virtue (Nietzsche 130)! Pity is a weakness that serves only to “[defend] life’s disinherited” and to perpetuate the lives of the wretched, who deserve death (130). Even worse, it erodes the most essential instincts one possesses: those that work for the preservation of one’s life (130)! While I am willing to hear what any of these authors [rolls his eyes in O’Connor’s direction] … yes, even her …  has to say about it, I want everyone to be aware that I consider pity a most ignoble concept!

O’CONNOR [dryly]: I think we’re aware now.

[She reaches for the cheese-knife and cuts a wedge of Stilton Blue.]

O’CONNOR: Pity is, as Mr. Fyodor mentioned, a complex idea. It can sometimes be misplaced or misused, and can therefore lead to tragedy, such as in my story “The Lame Shall Enter First.” The main character, Sheppard, consistently pities hundreds of impoverished and neglected children while dismissing the needs of his own son (447). By the time Sheppard realizes his mistake and decides to “make everything up to [his son],” it is already too late, and he loses the boy to suicide (482). However, if one’s heart is never stirred to mercy through the appreciation of another’s wretched condition, one could become like my other character, The Misfit, from “A Good Man Is Hard to Find.” In his past, The Misfit was unmoved by the sights of others being flogged or burned alive (129-130), and, in a similarly cold fashion, he murders a defenseless family at the end of the story (132).

TOLKIEN [puffing thoughtfully on his pipe]: Yes, Flannery. I can certainly concur with your explanation, as well as with Mr. Dostoevsky’s. However, I fail to find it in me to agree with yours, Mr. Nietzsche. In my work The Hobbit—as I believe I mentioned before—I illustrate the concept and effects of pity through my character, the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. Bilbo originally resolves to kill Gollum, to “stab the foul thing,” whom he knows intends to murder him (The Hobbit 96). However, when Bilbo sees Gollum’s “miserable” and desperate condition, he spares Gollum’s life at the risk of his own (96). Because of Bilbo’s act of pity—and this is similar, I believe, to Mr. Dostoevsky’s point—Bilbo gains the strength to resist temptation, to protect his friends, and to give up what he wants for a greater cause (177). His ability to forgive is also strengthened, and he grows to become a hero (312). Through acts of pity and mercy, one becomes a bigger person––even if one is just a little hobbit. And for that reason, Mr. Nietzsche, I fail to see why pity could be called a weakness. Furthermore, I do not agree that pity spares “those who deserve death,” since God, Who is the only Being that can create life, is also the only One Who can take it away. It is simply not our place to decide. 

O’CONNOR [becoming slightly flushed]: I agree, John Ronald! I’d like to add that, apart from God, true pity or mercy is not possible. Even when one acts in a way that one believes will help others, if one acts apart from God, one’s actions will actually be empty; nothing good will come of them. When Sheppard tries to foster a relationship with his son while also attempting to rehabilitate the delinquent teenager Rufus, both his attempts end in failure. Since Sheppard believes that neither God nor Heaven exists, he relies only on his own power, even telling his son that a belief in nothing is “all [he] has to give” him (O’Connor 461).

TOLKIEN [leaning forward in his chair and puffing vigorously]: And relying on one’s own power can lead to some of the greatest evils! In my poem Ainulindale, when the god-like being Melkor desires to possess the same power as the Creator Being, Ilúvatar, his ambition drives him to encounter and grapple with an evil with which he cannot contend on his own, and he becomes entirely corrupted (The Silmarillion 16). As I said earlier, God is the only One able to create life, to deliver death, and to fully overcome—whilst remaining unaffected by—evil. When Melkor, because of his hunger and ambition to “increase [his] power and glory,” strove with so powerful a force, it ultimately destroyed him and who he was meant to be (16). In contrast, through his act of pity, Bilbo surrendered to God, the ultimate Life-Giver. That act of surrender helped him become more who he was meant to be and a greater, larger person at the same time! Quite fascinating, isn’t it?

NIETZSCHE [who has been gnawing his thumb and growing pale for quite some time]: But no! No! Don’t you see? What you are all talking about is weakness! The whole point that I make in The Anti-Christ is that what’s good is the perishing of the weak, the heightening of unrestrained power, and freedom from the cowardliness of compromise (Nietzsche 127)! Moreover, God, Christianity, Heaven … All are unrealistic, parasitic, devaluing concepts that raise up the wretched and reduce the great—the strong—to their lowly level (Nietzsche 168)! [points at O’Connor] You, woman! You have the “essence [of a] serpent” (Nietzsche 176)! You! [points at Dostoevsky] You sicken the world with the neurotic, “child-like idiocy” of your “Russian novel[s]” (Nietzsche 154)! [breathing hard and reaching angrily into his pocket.]

NIETZSCHE [slapping a five-pound note on the table in front of Tolkien (Dostoevsky 126)]: The tea was watery, the cheese was riddled with mold, and here’s what I think of your runty hobbits and your scrawny Gollums! 

[Tolkien looks hurt. Nietzsche storms out of the hobbit-hole without his raincoat.]

DOSTOEVSKY [shifting in his chair and putting his feet on the hearth.]: An utterance of the “greatest bile” (Dostoevsky 4). 

O’CONNOR: Any more Stilton in your larder, John Ronald?

TOLKIEN: Just beside the second barrel of Longbottom Leaf—but seriously, which of us is going to have pity on poor Friedrich and go fetch him out of the rain?

[Exeunt.]

Toward the Pity: Mercy and Its Future Effects in The Hobbit

In his work The Hobbit, author and philologist J. R. R. Tolkien elevates the concept of pity through the actions of his character Bilbo Baggins. Because of Bilbo’s act of pity towards the malevolent creature Gollum, Bilbo becomes better able to resist corruption, deny himself for the sake of others, and forgive. These noble qualities transform Bilbo from an ordinary and seemingly insignificant hobbit into an extraordinary epic hero. 

When Bilbo spares the life of the menacing creature Gollum, he increases his resistance to the evil influence of the Ring. When Bilbo puts the Ring on his finger, he becomes invisible and is therefore capable of killing Gollum—who has threatened to kill and eat him—while Gollum remains unaware of Bilbo’s presence (Tolkien 96). However, Bilbo looks at Gollum, and, observing how miserable and warped he appears, pities him and spares his life (96). Because Bilbo restrains himself from killing Gollum, the Ring cannot corrupt him in the same way it did Gollum, who abandoned his community to hide in a cave, using the Ring’s power of invisibility to catch fish and goblins to eat (90). In contrast, Bilbo’s single act of pity allows him to leave the Gollum’s cave with thoughts of finding his friends and returning to his community (100). He continues his journey undefiled by the corruption of the Ring that he carries in his pocket.

Not only does Bilbo’s act of pity preserve him from the Ring’s corruption, but it also empowers him to deny his own wishes for the sake of others. After Bilbo escapes from the dangers of the caves and of Gollum himself, Bilbo immediately thinks of his dwarven companions and wonders if they remain trapped inside the caves (100). He decides to turn back and search for them, even though he dreads the thought of going back into the “horrible, horrible tunnels” (100-101). To have pity requires one to look beyond oneself, to see beyond one’s immediate, self-oriented fears and desires. Through the sense of restraint that Bilbo exercises  in his treatment of Gollum, Bilbo cultivates a stronger resistance to temptations as well as a deeper sense of selflessness that continues to influence his future actions. Bilbo’s strengthened resistance becomes evident in his encounter with the Arkenstone, a jewel that has the ability to enthrall the hearts of elves, men, and dwarves, and, in particular, that of the dwarf king Thorin (251). The beauty of the Arkenstone enchants Thorin to the degree that he calls it a treasure “beyond price” and vows revenge on any who might attempt to keep it from him (289). The Arkenstone captivates the Elvenking and Bard the bowman as well, yet Bilbo, although he experiences a similar longing when looking at the jewel, eventually gives it up  in an attempt to make peace (294). One of the after-effects of a merciful action is a heightened sense of what is more important. If one is willing to risk one’s own life by sparing the life of such a treacherous creature as Gollum, one may become better able to give up even a treasure as desirable as the Arkenstone in order to save others from war and death. 

The same generous spirit that allows Bilbo to give up the Arkenstone creates a greater capacity in his heart to forgive others who have abused him. When an invisible Bilbo emerges from Gollum’s cave thinking of how he might rescue his dwarvish friends, he overhears them discussing his absence and wondering why he had gotten himself lost (101). One dwarf even flatly refuses to go back to the caves to look for him, dismissing the hobbit with a “Drat him, I say” (102). However, even though Bilbo had witnessed the dwarves’ unwillingness to look for him, he comes to their aid immediately when giant spiders attempt to eat them (172), as well as when the elves of Mirkwood capture them (185). Additionally, after Thorin discovers that Bilbo has given the Arkenstone to Bard and the Elvenking, he physically and verbally assaults  Bilbo, shaking him and calling him a “descendant of rats” (297). Thorin even threatens to throw Bilbo off of a mountain to his death (297). Nonetheless, as Thorin lies dying, Bilbo visits him, accepts his apology for his abusive treatment, and mourns his death (312). The degree of growth that Bilbo experiences as a result of his act of mercy towards Gollum allows him to extend that mercy to others and to reconcile with Thorin before he dies. 

Bilbo achieves the ability to pity and forgive his friend Thorin, who threatens to kill, because he first accomplishes the even more difficult task of pitying and forgiving his enemy Gollum, who also tried to kill him but was never his friend. Through the example of Bilbo, Tolkien shows how a single act of pity can transform one’s entire destiny, since the quality of mercy that Bilbo shows Gollum allows him to rise above the common and become a most uncommon hero. It seems unlikely that any reasonable person would censure Bilbo, had he decided to take the life of the treacherous Gollum. However, if Bilbo had done so, his capacity for growth and heroism may have ended in Gollum’s cave and his life been similarly given over to darkness, the Ring, and raw fish. Instead, Bilbo risks his life for Gollum’s sake in one act of pity, which prompts him to further heroic acts of self-sacrifice as he puts himself at risk to save his friends and prevent a war. Additionally, when Bilbo forgives Thorin, he becomes a paradoxically inspiring figure—a little hobbit pardoning a great king. When one expands one’s heart and extends mercy even to the most undeserving, one expands one’s range of influence on enemies, friends, superiors, and the world. 

From Tolkien’s point of view, pity has numerous positive effects that bless both the pitier and those she pities. Conversely, German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche argues in his work The Anti-Christ that when one takes pity on another, one commits two evils, since to have pity is to subvert one’s own ability and instinct to survive as well as to perpetuate the existence of those who should perish (Nietzsche 130). However, The Hobbit argues the exact opposite. Bilbo’s will to live expresses itself precisely through his act of pity towards Gollum. When Bilbo looks at Gollum and sees the dark, despairing nature of the creature’s existence, Bilbo’s heart longs for life as he knows it, with all its blessings of sunlight, greenery, good food, and friendship. Bilbo’s love for life encourages him to respect the lives and humanity of others, even Gollum, because Bilbo recognizes that only the One Who can give life has the authority to take it back, and it is not for Bilbo or for any one mortal to say who does or does not deserve life.

Namárië!!

Nikki

Works Cited

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Twilight of the Idols and The Anti-Christ. Translated by R. J. Hollingdale, Penguin, 2003. 

Tolkien, J. R. R. The Hobbit. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2001.