The Lord of the Rings: epic fantasy quest, or an epic homosexual fantasy?

A fantasy running wild, like a loose dog, may stray upon forbidden territory and get shot down. With political correctness and moral boundaries in mind, the safe, permissible area of wandering may be measured in square feet. To broaden this tight space, artists employ metaphors, analogies, hidden symbolism and euphemisms, making it much more difficult for the intellectually inferior lawsuit scouring university dropouts to notice the concealed message. ‘A good piece of art should be androgynous’ states a quote attributed to Joni Mitchell (Microsoft Encarta 2008), and I dare argue that The Lord of the Rings more than accomplishes this objective. Masculinity, alongside femininity dwells in Tolkien’s characters, with the latter every so often becoming overwhelmingly dominant.

‘I made a promise, a promise: don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamdgee, and I don’t mean to. I don’t mean to,’ Honestly promises Sam, tears running down his face, water dripping from his hair. ‘Oh, Sam!’ Replies Frodo as they fervently fall into each other’s embrace. Beautiful friendship, excessive sentiment or just plain homosexuality? This is the problem that I intend to dissect in my essay, which I will perform by analysing various homosexual symbolisms veiled and scattered throughout the trilogy.

An undisputable literary classic, a world acknowledged bestseller, adapted into film with almost unparalleled success, in my opinion, contains some conspicuous homosexual traits. This may sound far-fetched, yet there is certain evidence which suggests how the inhabitants of Middle Earth would seldom refuse an opportunity of unchained, rugged man-love. Hobbits, elves, men and orcs all mutually exist in a reality were female presence is scarce, secondary and superfluous. They fight, drink and party together while the women remain stationed within their naturally programmed environment. The stereotypical existence in the vicinity of a washing machine, the iron and the cooking stove, rearranged for the setting of the Middle-Earth is very reminiscent of women’s position in ancient Greek society.

This brings me to my first point in arguing the existence of prevalent, yet cleverly concealed homosexuality in Lord of the Rings. The social structure of the shire, as far as the spectator is concerned, appears relatively primitive. The hobbits reside in their little caves, get by on agriculture and never avoid the occasional drink. There is no advanced infrastructure, no thriving stock market, influential labour unions or corrupt government officials, just a small number of farmers with bushy feet, happily smoking their days away. Fundamentally different from ancient Greece in terms of political development, yet both the Shire and ancient Greece utilized women as an instrument for reproduction and the running of domestic chores. Intellectually incompetent to take part in politics, education or any decision making whatsoever, women were essentially deprived of their role in the social sphere. And, bearing in mind how the Greeks did not distinguish sexual desire by the gender of the participants, it is unsurprising how homosexuality was a commonly practiced activity. ‘A satiric poet (Hipponax) gives it as his opinion that ‘a man has only two very pleasant days with his wife – one when he marries her, the other when he buries her’ (Donaldson, 1907, 9). Essential for procreation, the females were otherwise considered to be a liability.

Although a disregard for women of these proportions is never directly portrayed in Lord of The Rings, the book does not prevent us from assuming the existence of such chauvinism. It is not my goal, however, to locate and expose the ill-treatment of women in the Shire, my objective is to unearth the high likelihood of homosexuality among the Hobbits, or any other creatures of Tolkien’s universe, and by speculating their neglect for women I can presume the close connection between men.

‘Bands and tribes organize social life primarily on the basis of kinship. The economies are primarily based on some combination of hunting and gathering, horticulture and animal husbandry. They have no state – that is , no distinct, sovereign political body with authority to command’ (Greenberg, 1988). This definition of a primitive kinship based society fits the shire exceedingly well, while the further argument of Greenberg depicts the homosexual practices present in such societies. Although never described by Tolkien, we might deduct from the portrayal of Hobbiton that the dwarfish humanoids did indeed occasionally stray on the soil of casual molestation. Bilbo Baggins, with his enormous accumulation of travelling experience had to figure out a means of transferring his knowledge to young Frodo. It is not unviable that he may have equipped his phallus to execute this transmission, thus transferring not only his wisdom, but his semen into Frodo Baggins as well. Such a practice is not uncommon in the real world: Arabic speaking mountaineers of Northern Morocco teach the Koran by committing pederasty on young boys. Westernmarck, a Finnish philosopher and sociologist attributed the pederasty he observed in the Northern regions of Morocco to the scarcity of available women (1988, 30).

Jane Chance, a Professor of English at Rice University analyses the ‘queer’ hobbits in her book The Lord of the Rings: The Mythology of Power. The word queer, according to Encarta English dictionary, has the following meanings:

1) not usual or expected;

2) an offensive term meaning gay;

In some instances of her analysis the distinct meanings gracefully merge into one.

‘Frodo is a Baggins from Hobbiton, but his mother was a Brandybuck from Buckland, “where folks are so queer,” says old Noakes. Their “queerness” is caused by living on the wrong side of the Brandywine River, next to the Old Forest, and also by the fact that they use boats on the big river, which “isn’t natural”, says the Gaffer, at least for the Hobbits’. (Chance, 2001, 33)

This may both be a description of Frodo as a hobbit, who, due to his roots in Buckland, is alien to Hobbiton, and a metaphorical suggestion of Frodo’s sexual orientation. The phrase “wrong side of the river” itself sounds like a very well thought out euphemism, worthy of its place next to “friend of Dorothy”, “flies the rainbow flag” or “plays for the other team”. Wrong side of the river makes it sound like Frodo came all the way back from Bangkok, trying to put his untamed, hedonistically saturated gay past behind, and is attempting to start over. It makes it sound like he came from the wrong side of the sexual orientation axis. Paradoxically, this also makes it sound like it is a negative feature of Frodo, and homosexuality, on the contrary, should be a very desired trait in the ‘queer’ Shire. There are several explanations for this contradiction. First, the description of Frodo as being wrong may have come from someone, who belongs to the straight minority of the Shire. A hobbit who despises the everyday gay happenings of his hometown, but is unable to get away from it, possibly as a result of his inadequate treasury and consequent inability to fund an emigration. Secondly, the debauchery that Frodo may have involved himself into while living in Buckland may have been too much to process for even the wildest homosexuals of Hobbiton. Lastly the negativity may have sprung from the mere fact that Frodo was an alien to Hobbiton, and the ambiguity hidden in his description by Tolkien may have been intentional: Frodo is both from the wrong side of the river and ‘from the wrong side of the river’.

During the party in Hobbiton, at the beginning of “Fellowship of the Rings” Bilbo, while standing privately in a tent with Frodo, mentions to his cousin how he adopted him out of selfishness. Then, stumbling on his own words, he fails to provide any further explanation, only mentions how Frodo had ‘the spirit’ and seizes the conversation altogether. Bilbo, being overly reluctant to elaborate on the subject, appears to regret having brought it up in the first place. He leaves Frodo, along with all the moviegoers puzzled, left with nothing but a shambolic hint. Shambolic, yet very subtle, easily left unnoticed and possibly referencing the inserter–insertee learning environment that Frodo was brought up in. Bilbo may have only adopted young Frodo out of strong sexual desire, and has endured a tormenting sense of guilt ever since. Upon the brink of his imminent departure the old hobbit could have decided to redeem himself by disclosing the truth to his unsuspecting catamite, thus lifting the crushing burden from his conscience. Unfortunately, he fails to muster sufficient strength to follow through with his confession.

Frodo. A young hobbit with his whole life ahead of him, and a dark, sexual exploitation ridden past behind, lurking in the deepest, darkest corners of his psyche, surfacing every so often to haunt him in his nightmares. This, of course, is a blatant, excessively oversaturated description of the young Hobbit, an audacious speculation, with little, if any, credibility. We must, however, bear in mind how this essay introduces an innovative, and a very controversial interpretation of Tolkien’s work of fiction. Therefore, as we are trying to find new, undiscovered ground, we must be bald and daring with our assumptions and have sufficient motivational acceleration to see just how deep the rabbit hole really goes, hence the hyperbolized supposition. From this point on I will not elaborate on Frodo’s past anymore, solely because very little is known about it. The social structure of the Shire, however, did permit me to assume the existence of scholar incest in the foremost hobbit’s little hometown.

The Shire on Tolkien’s maps holds a similar geographical position as England on the map of Europe. The climate, rural culture and the dialect of the hobbits are also suggestive of England. This circumstance brings us on the threshold of a very important revelation. Tolkien, during the writing of The Lord of the Rings, resided in Oxford, being a professor of Anglo-Saxon at Oxford University. It took him one year (1954 – 1955) to write the trilogy, and if we analyse how Oxford looked like during that period, or more importantly, how it looked when Tolkien arrived in it in 1911, we might find clues indicating that the setting surrounding the writer was indeed, even if highly intellectual, still adequately homosexual.

‘It is fair to say that, from 1895 to approximately 1910, Cambridge was as idyllic a setting for homosexuals as Oxford was in the inter-war period’ (Tamagne, 2004, 174). The young, developing, intellectual elite of the early 20^th century England started questioning the moral foundations set forth by the Victorian era on which human relationships were based. Echoes of Oscar Wilde’s trial were still audible in the 1910s, and, with homosexual persecution growing progressively larger whilst Europe stood on the brink of war, homosexuality, unsurprisingly, was also growing to become one of the prevailing subjects that people conversed about. To every action there is a reaction, and with the increasing number of charges for immoral conduct there was an increasing amount of youth becoming gradually more and more interested in homosexuality, or turning bi-curious, if you will. Taboo and very novel for the time, the subject of homosexuality was consequently very alluring, effectively making everyone involved in its discussion a rebel, or at least making them feel like one.

Additionally, it must also be taken into account that The Lord of the Rings was written ten years after the Second World War. Never before has sexual segregation occurred on such a massive scale, never before have so many men been isolated from any and all contact with women. Strong men, courageous men. Straight men. Never, with the exception of World War I. A conflict that Tolkien had taken part in. Stationed as Second Lieutenant in the Lancashire Fusiliers, the writer had a chance to witness the terrors of the war firsthand. In addition to that, he had also taken part in one of the most massive, colossal and bloody battles in the history of mankind that laid waste to over a million souls, the battle of the Somme. Having been there, Tolkien bore witness to this terror of humanitarian expenditure. He also bore witness to the horror of sexual separation from women. It is feasible that he may have drawn inspiration for the massive battles described, and the homosexuality hidden in the Middle Earth from what he had seen on the front. Although World War I was not as famous for being a catalyst for the increase in the gay population, as World War II, it was, nonetheless, a time when traffic up the dirt track had significantly intensified.

‘The contradictory trends of the inter-war period originated in the War: liberalism and authoritarianism, pacifism and militarism, virility and femininity. Ambiguity was born from a certain confusion around the concept of homoeroticism, itself a consequence of the war. It could be associated with camaraderie, heroism, male beauty – and therefore with virility; just as it could be condemned as the incarnation of a lax rearguard, traitorous, impotent and thus female’. (2004, 26)

War, therefore, is both a very masculine, and potentially a very homosexual endeavour. The sense of togetherness, threatened by the prospect of bombardment, gas attacks or any other instances of unexpected, sudden death, grows only stronger. Men, while undergoing their duty of conscription, had nothing to rely on but other men, nobody to talk to, but other men, nobody to love, but other gentlemen. Although we, people, enjoy taking ourselves as intellectual, pure and advanced creatures that have crawled far out of the evolutionary Petri dish, this is a misconception. As long as we rely on feeding and breeding, we shall remain animals. And if either food or sex is scant, any means of satisfying these urges become acceptable. Food was, more or less, thought of during the war, but the lack of sexual intercourse was not. All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque brings up both of these problems. Gastronomically unimpressive, yet effective at saturating hunger, the military cuisine made its way to the front, clumsily circumnavigating the constant shelling. The female dish was never served. Although Paul Bäumer and his friends manage to finally get lucky in Remarque’s classic (women of course, were also deprived of, and aching for procreation, but this will not be analysed in this essay), history suggests that most experiences of other soldiers throughout the war were not as successful. Not only did war cause enormous human casualties, famine, economic downfall and depression, but it turned men into savages. Troops, stripped of their humanity by attrition, roamed the streets of conquered countries, breaking into houses and brutally satisfying their ravenous animal instincts. Homosexuality, with the aforementioned in mind, seems like a godsend, as controversial as it may sound.

Tolkien saw these battles take place. He saw what became of men stationed in the trenches. War has a close relationship with insanity, as seen in Coppola’s Apocalypse Now, and indeed men were going crazy. Pacifism, Woodrow Wilson’s fourteen points, and the establishment of The League of Nations were insufficient to sustain a peace, and war struck again, on an even larger scale, in World War II. Although this was not a war that he fought, Tolkien must have had a good idea of what was happening on the front, in the ships, the trenches and the barracks. The belligerent commotion may have triggered Tolkien’s imagination into the early stages of developing The Lord of the Rings.

Being born a gifted linguist, Tolkien made up the elves, and their very own language early in his youth. Being close friends with writer C. S. Lewis, they had mutually concocted a whole fantasy universe, which elves were just a relatively small part of. This imaginary world that they created served as a firm foundation for Tolkien to build his Lord of the Rings universe upon. Having built up the lore, added a subtle flavour of Christianity, and included conflicts the scale of the World Wars to transpire, Tolkien successfully crafted one of the most renowned stories throughout the world. As a side note it might be mentioned that Christianity, with its own child molestation tainted history, is an ingredient that may to some extent fortify the homosexual flavour of this fantasy cocktail.

Tolkien’s participation in a war where cannons were occasionally utilized for plumbing, and the milieu in which the book was written could have sown some ‘queer’ ideas into Tolkien’s mind, or, conversely, he may have been a homosexual to begin with. The symbolism found in the book could indicate whether Tolkien was indeed pondering backdoor banditry in the process of writing. Most of the analysis conducted in this essay so far focused on the Shire: its social structure, its similarity to England in early 20^th century, and the possibility of hobbits having practiced the ancient ways of pederasty. The Shire, however, is just a small part of the Trilogy’s geography, a place where it’s main characters come from. Although I will not execute a full geographical breakdown of gayness, there are other significant symbols of homosexuality that I will further analyze in this essay: the towers, the breeding of the Uruk’hai, Gandalf’s staff, the inclusion of female characters, and, ultimately, the ring.

The two towers proudly stand tall, watching over the Middle Earth. The second book was even named in honour of the massive structures. Saruman, the white wizard who turned to the dark side, and Sauron, the lord of darkness, the crafter of the one ring. Tolkien’s book was named after these towers in which the two evils reside. But what exactly do they represent? It is a commonplace that whole buildings – towers and skyscrapers – can resemble penises. (Hersey, 1999, 128) The Egyptians built obelisks that were a testament to the mammoth power of the male reproductive organ. Why can the towers in The Lord of the Rings then not be an intimation of the phallus cult widely followed across the Middle Earth? The commotion observed by Gandalf from the top of Saruman’s tower could be interpreted as a gay ritual of the penis followers in honour of their idol.

Not only is the commotion itself important, but also the manner of the commotion. Orcs were being crossed with men to breed the menacing Uruk’hai. The only problem being – the movie never confirms, or at least gives signs of the existence of female orcs. All throughout Tolkien’s writing we would hardly find any evidence, except a little mention in one of his letters, that there was an opposite sex to the orcs. Now the notion that Saruman may have employed genetic engineering to manufacture these ‘black orcs’ is just plain silly. There are not many explanations left at this point: it was either magic that he used or some twisted homosexual enterprise to couple male men and male orcs to produce the prodigious offspring warriors. Wizards would never taint their craft’s reputation by performing something this aberrant, therefore a gay coupling theory contains the most viability. What better warriors are to fight a homosexual war, in a homosexual land, than those bred in a homosexual way.

Gandalf carries a wooden staff, which he uses for battling the transformed Saruman, and Sauron’s malicious underlings. For casting devastating spells no foe is capable of withstanding, and plainly for support. But is it just a staff that he carries, ambidextrously and tightly clutching it in either of his hands? ‘”Staff”, like “pillar” and “serpent”, also has the alternative meaning of “penis”’. (Heinrich, 2002, 83) Hence we find yet another symbolism of the life infusing instrument. Deifying the member is, of course, not in any manner anomalous, and does not indicate any sign of homosexuality. On the contrary, the lack of phallic adulation would suggest a deviation from sexual norms. But the ample knobular symbolism prominent throughout Tolkien’s male dominated universe is worrying. The elves, orcs, hobbits and humans seem to have grown a bit too fond of the spam javelin. It is almost as though we could draw a parallel between Mount Doom and Brokeback Mountain.

Women are overwhelmed by superior numbers of sword wielding, staff clutching, beer drinking and possibly bottom thumping men. Undeniably though, the dames still take important parts in the story. For example Arwen, who had been given an insignificant role in the book, which the moviemakers substantially increased in the film. Upon first sight of Arwen, we are immediately astonished by her beauty. Liv Tyler is so gifted with her appearance, it almost seems unjust. God must have compensated her creation by crafting Jane Goody to walk this earth and punish our eyesight. Arwen, being as beautiful as she is, must surely provide robust proof of Aragorn’s heterosexuality. But does she really? Or Rosie, who Sam keeps talking about during the course of his voyage, and ultimately marries at the end of the film. Women, loved by men. Or so it seems. In truth, these may be women, who serve as routers, through which men direct their love back to other men. The possession of a spouse is a social obligation that Aragorn or Sam are unable to obviate, and to which they must conform. But they do not conform to full extent, just as Ellis Del Mar and Jack Twist from Brokeback Mountain, they do not allow marriage to completely deprive them of their true selves. Embarking on their pilgrimage to mount doom, the two are able to get away from their wives and indulge themselves in lubricated bliss.

Finally, I have reached the argument that inspired me to write this essay.

‘It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves: immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Dwarf-lords: great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine. Nine rings were gifted to the race of men, who above all else desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived. For another ring was made. In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring to control all others. And into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life. One Ring to rule them all. ‘

What we see on the screen when these words are spoken is men putting on rings. Men with beards hanging from their faces and swords hanging from their belts. Only one woman is present among the recipients of the rings. 'Jewellery is not very masculine'. (Kampf, 51)

Conclusion

Structured as an act of copulation (homosexual?) is paced, this essay begins slowly, gently draws the partaker in, quickly accelerates and ends abruptly when it is expected to go on. What I have proven here is that anything is capable of being proven. The right sources interpreted in a twisted manner and wrong sources placed in the right context can make any sickest theory justifiable, feasible and real. If you play ‘Stairway to Heaven’ backwards you don’t hear Led Zeppelin worshiping Satan. ‘Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds’ is not a song about LSD, and even if it was, I don’t care, it is still a great song. The Americans did a moon landing in 1969. The Lord of the Rings is not gay.

Bibliography

1. Carpenter, Tolkien, Tolkien, J.R.R. (1981). The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien. New York: George Allen & Unwin.

2. Chance, Jane (2001). The Lord of the Rings: The Mythology of Power. Kentucky: The University Press of Kentucky.

3. Donaldson, Sir James (1907). Woman; Her Position and Influence in Ancient Greece and Rome, and Among the Early Christians. London: Longmans, Green and Co.

4. Duriez, Colin (2003). Tolkien and C. S. Lewis: The Gift of Friendship. Oxford: Hidden Spring.

5. Greenberg, David F. (1988). The Construction of Homosexuality. Chickago: University of Chickago Press.

6. Halperin, David M. (1990). One Hundred Years of Homosexuality: And Other Essays on Greek Love. London: Routledge.

7. Heinrich, Clark (2002). Magic Mushrooms in Religion and Alchemy. Vermont: Park Steet Press.

8. Hersey, George L. (1999). The Monumental Impulse: Architecture's Biological Roots. London: MIT Press.

9. Jackson, Paul (2004). One of the Boys: Homosexuality in the Military During World War II. Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press.

10. Jones, Leslie (2003). J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography. Oxford: Greenwood Press.

11. Joseph, Pearce (1998). Tolkien: Man and Myth. London: HarperCollinsPublishers.

12. Kampf, Ray (2000). The Bear Handbook: A Comprehensive Guide for Those Who Are Husky, Hairy, and Homosexual, and Those Who Love'Em. New York: The Hanworth Press, Inc.

13. Satinover, Jeffrey (1996). Homosexuality and the Politics of Truth. London: Baker Publishing Group.

14. Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky (1985). Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire. New York: Columbia University Press.

15. Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky (1990). Epistemology of the Closet. Los Angeles: University of California Press.

16. Tamagne, Florence (2004). A History of Homosexuality in Europe: Berlin, London, Paris, 1919-1939. Paris: Seuil.

17. Thompson, James C. (2005). ‘Women in Ancient Greece’. Women in the Ancient World [online]. Available: http://www.womenintheancientworld.com/

women%20in%20ancient%20greece.htm [Accessed 28^th December 2007].

18. http://www.shapingsf.org/ezine/gay/files/gayww2.html [Accessed 30th December 2007].

19. The following Wikipedia [www.wikipedia.org] articles were used for additional refrence:

1) ‘The Lord of the Rings’. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lord_of_the_Rings [Accessed 26th December 2007].

2) ‘Homosexuality in Ancient Greece’.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homosexuality_in_ancient_Greece [Accessed 27th December 2007]

3) ‘J. R. R. Tolkien’. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tolkien [Accessed 27th December 2007]

Keturiolikmetės dienoraštis

Šiandien pabėgau iš pamokū. Lauke lyjo ir dangus buvo pilkas. Nuėjau į įrašū parduotuvę pasiklausyt Yvos yrašų. Dar klausiau Bavarijos. Girdėdama daina Angelai atsiminiau tą tųsa kuris vyko pas Mindę ana penktadienį. Labai daug geriau, Minde sakė kad mane myli. Dar tą pati sake Rička ir Arnoldas, bet jisai man graibė papus, todėl man atrodo kad melavo. Apsiverkiau, nes reikėjo rinktis tarp ričkos ir Mindes. Bet po to minde laižesi su Samanta ir man atrodo kad jis manes nemylėjo. Nuejau ir pradejau laižytis su Arnoldu, bet atpyliau, nes buvau labai girta. Tada Arnoldas irgi atpylė ir apsišiko, nes buvo labai girtas ir jam buvo labai nemalonu. Tada atbėgo Mindė su apvemta Birka, o Birutė apsišikusi gulėjo katinodėžėje.