Quote of the Day (Elijah Wood, on the Courage of Frodo in ‘Lord of the Rings’)

“One of the great messages of the [“The Lord of the Ring”] books as it pertains to Frodo and the hobbits in general is a sense that even the smallest person, not just in stature but in terms of what one feels they’re capable of doing, is capable of greatness, of affecting real change, of having real impact. What Frodo was up against seemed insurmountable, and yet he was able to accomplish it largely because of goodness, kindness, a purity of heart and perhaps innocence. Those are the things that hobbits embody, and inherently why they’re able to withstand the corruption of the Ring for longer than humans. But what makes Frodo unique is a way of seeing the world without any kind of cynicism. There’s also courage, maybe even a blind courage, of not necessarily knowing what’s ahead and therefore not allowing himself to be afraid. If I’m to learn one thing from all of that, it’s that there’s fortitude in his outlook that makes it all possible.”—Actor Elijah Wood, on what he learned playing Frodo in the film adaptation of the J.R.R. Tolkien trilogy, quoted by Carlos Aguilar, “Frodo Still Lives In One Actor’s Heart,” The New York Times, Dec. 22, 2021

Quote of the Day (Sarah Thyre, Against the Cringe-Worthy Vogue for ‘Journey’)

“Using the word ‘journey’ to describe anything other than a perilous trek through Middle-earth to throw the One Ring of Power into a volcano. (Also: You must be a hobbit.)”— Actress Sarah Thyre, on what will seem embarrassing or regrettable to our future selves, quoted by George Gurley, “Future Cringe,” The New York Times, Jan. 26, 2023

Ms. Thyre’s wish is this blogger’s command: The image accompanying this post shows Frodo (played by Elijah Wood) and his friend Samwise (played by Sean Astin) in The Two Towers, Part II of the book and film trilogy “The Lord of the Rings.”

Movie Exchange of the Day (“Lord of the Rings,” on the Wound That “Will Never Fully Heal”)

Elrond (played by Hugo Weaving) (on Frodo): “His strength returns.”
Gandalf (played by Ian McKellan): “That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life.”
Elrond: “And yet, to have come so far, still bearing the Ring, the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil.”
Gandalf: “It is a burden he should never have had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo.”
Elrond: “Gandalf, the enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the East; his eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin.”
Gandalf: “His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with goblin men. He's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring.”
Elrond: “This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to withstand both Mordor and Isengard. Gandalf, the Ring cannot stay here. This evil belongs to all of Middle-Earth. They must decide now how to end it. The time of the Elves is over, my people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we've gone? The Dwarves? They toil away in caverns, seeking riches. They care nothing for the troubles of others.”
Gandalf: “It is in Men that we must place our hope.”
Elrond: “Men? Men are weak. The Blood of Numenor is all but spent, its pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of Men the Ring survives. I was there, Gandalf. I was there three thousand years ago. I was there the day the strength of Men failed.”—The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), adapted from the novel by J.R.R. Tolkien, screenplay by Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens and Peter Jackson, directed by Peter Jackson

The Lord of the Rings trilogy may well be the film project that defines the post-9/11 era. No other spells out so vividly the monstrous terror unleashed by evil, the frailty of the human beings summoned to confront it, or the courage necessary ultimately to surmount it. The first installment, The Fellowship of the Ring, opened the week before Christmas 2001. On the day I saw it, news had just broken of the shoe-bomber incident--a catastrophe that, unlike the World Trade Center and Pentagon bombings three months earlier, was narrowly averted.

The adaptation of the Tolkien novels retains his tragic awareness of the persistence of evil, the way it returns because “the strength of Men failed.” Like the United States after it was plunged into the War on Terror, Frodo is left to carry his burden with an almost existential dread, as allies abandon the cause and he himself almost falls victim to the temptation of power symbolized by the ring.

I wish I could cheer louder over the death of Osama Bin Laden, but after nearly a decade, as Gandalf notes, “that wound will never fully heal.” It's personal.

I still recall the bewilderment in my office as we peered downtown after the first tower was struck, then the terror when the second plane delivered unmistakeable proof that this was no accident. I remember the chaos of trying to get back home to New Jersey for hours. I remember the flyers with pictures of the missing everywhere I turned for the next week or so; the desolate feeling in my heart hearing "Danny Boy" played in memory of the victims as I walked through the Port Authority Building on 42nd Street; and the clanging fire department bells whose sound made me pray for the next year that more lives were not about to be sacrificed.

Like many in the New York area, I knew personally (or knew of) people who were connected to Ground Zero, either working in the World Trade Center at the time or acting as first responders. One cousin escaped; a brother of a work colleague died; two other people, rushing to the scene, themselves absorbed gases let loose in the air.

It wasn’t so evident in 2001, but there was also a wound to the American body politic that gradually festered. Members of both political parties sought to diminish their respective roles in the train of events that culminated in 9/11 and, to their shame, concentrated more on pointing fingers and posturing than on uniting behind the effort to take out terror, root and branch. In the years since, we often lost our way. The damage to our psyches, our institutions and our way of life was severe, and, we can only hope, not lasting.

And yet…The United States has shown “extraordinary resilience” in the face of evil. The greatest mass murderer in American history will never mastermind another crime, nor enlist others in his twisted enterprise. (And let us hope, if there is a hell, that he was dispatched there immediately, haunted by the cries of those whose lives he was responsible for ending prematurely.)

In the end, there is a value in not giving up. To the many who wish America ill in the world, they surely now know we have more patience in pursuit of justice than they ever gave us credit for.

It is true, as I heard an eloquent priest say on the one-year anniversary of 9/11, that hate started the fires on that awful day, but love put them out.

Yet it is also true that courage--from the first responders who rushed to the scene that nightmarish Tuesday morning a decade ago, to the Navy Seals who dispatched bin Laden to his richly deserved fate this weekend--undergirds love, giving us hope that, though the wound that opened a decade ago might leave a scar, it will, at some point we can't see now, close.