The Lost Virtue of Courage in The Lord of the Rings

“Courage is found in unlikely places.”

Gildor The Fellowship of the Ring

Courage is an uncelebrated virtue in our culture. The word “brave” is sometimes applied to people who speak up in opposition of a cultural norm, but much traditionally associated with courage has come to be viewed as vice. What makes a person courageous, that is, morally and mentally strong in the face of danger and fear? Is the person who speaks up in anger courageous? Is the person who freely shares their controversial opinion really brave if the purpose of sharing is to gain influence or power?

Perhaps we don’t understand or celebrate courage because we don’t experience fear. In our comfortable, entitled society, there is relatively little to fear, unless it be that our comforts will be taken away. Perhaps it resonates when Frodo says of the people of the Shire, “there have been times when I thought the inhabitants too stupid and dull for words, and have felt that an earthquake or an invasion of dragons might be good for them” (Fellowship). There is nothing like an invasion of dragons to expose courage and cowardice. Danger reveals what matters to you and inspires you to fight for it.

In The Lord of the Rings, there are many examples of heroes who volunteer for the fight and delight in tests of strength, but there is also a quieter, yet profound kind of courage in these stories. True courage is required of the four hobbits (five, if you count Bilbo) more than any other characters. While others have been anticipating the growing Shadow and have trained for battle, the hobbits have lived in peace, shut off from the rest of the world. It would have been easier for them than for the others to stay comfortably at home and hope the coming evil never reached them (though the book reveals that the evil will reach out to destroy even the Shire). They were willing to take up the burden that had fallen in their laps. As Sam says, “The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull… But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered… Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually… But I expect they had lots of chances like us, of turning back, only they didn’t” (The Two Towers). I do not want to be a courageous person because I never want to find myself in the hard circumstances which prove people to be courageous. If that lot falls to me though, I hope I will respond in the way courageous people do, without giving up when confronted by hardship, backing down in the face of evil, or turning aside from the difficult road.

I must include my favorite character’s example. Though trained for battle and a seasoned captain, Faramir is not enamored by the glory of war like his brother, Boromir. “I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend” (Towers). This statement is not mere eloquence. After Aragorn departs for the Black Gate, Faramir is physically healing from a deadly wound. He demonstrates no wistful regret that he is unable to win glory in what may be the last stand of the West. His gentle wisdom presents a striking contrast to Eowyn’s desire for a glorious death in battle. He does not give in to her desperation but sees behind her “brave” front to the hurt she has suffered. He tells her to have patience and be healed. It is not cowardice to leave a job to someone else who can do it better. We each play a different part.

Even when courage falls short or physical strength fails, there is hope. Your courage may fail in the moment of trial, or your strength be overcome. In all this, there is a higher purpose. God in heaven is not overcome by any evil on earth. “Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him…the Shadow was only a small and passing thing; there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach” (The Return of the King).

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Fellowship of the Ring. 1954

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Two Towers. 1954

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Return of the King. 1955

Photo by Nikhil Prasad on Unsplash