The alternate title to this post was A Tale of Two Gardeners. There are several gardeners in The Lord of the Rings, but the most famous one, and rightly so, is Samwise Gamgee. I think it could be argued that Tom Bombadil is also a sort of gardener, though his garden is much larger (The Old Forest) and partly-sentient (Old Man Willow). 

I love Tom Bombadil. For me, he is one of the best parts of The Fellowship of The Ring. The Hobbits have committed to this perilous journey. Merry, Pippin, and Sam have figured out that Frodo is going to leave the Shire (possibly forever) on a dangerous quest and they have counted the cost and committed to go with him. They are four small hobbits setting out into the world against dark forces they could not possible comprehend. Their guide, Gandalf, has not shown up when he was supposed to. They have been tracked by the ghostly black riders and have been forced into the Old Forest, a place of dread, in order to escape. When they get lured into the lowlands by the river, all seems lost. Who could come to their aid in a place like this? Enter Tom Bombadil. He comes in like a miracle or one of the few divine interventions to happen in the book. Not only does he save them, but he provides them a place of shelter and emotional and spiritual safety. Tom Bombadil’s house feels like it might possibly be the safest place in all Middle Earth. Is it wasted by entering in so early on the journey? I don’t think so. The hobbits are very new to perils and adventures of this sort and they need to build up their courage and grit. I think it’s noteworthy that Tom doesn’t just save them from one peril but from two, one before they stay at his house and one after. They desperately need to know that good is on their side. Later, they will save each other from perils, and even go on to save others. But first they need to be saved a few times themselves. 

But what are we to make of Tom’s indifference to the Ring? There is something both comforting and disconcerting about it. On the one hand, it reminds the reader, as Sam puts it in Return of the King, that “this evil is only a passing shadow.” At the same time, how can Tom really be good if he cannot recognize the evil of this Ring and the very real destruction it is causing and will cause? Even if it doesn’t harm him, it is harming others. 

It’s easy to want to be Tom Bombadil—to duck your head and care for things which are your direct responsibility. Something of this can be seen in the modern resurgence of homesteading: go off grid, disconnect from the news and politics, work the land, get some chickens, take pleasure in the little things, and build a life of quiet flourishing. It actually isn’t anything new. Thousands of years ago there were two schools of thought who believed peace of mind was the ultimate good to be sought after: the Stoics and the Epicureans. Both philosophies have made a comeback in recent years, Stoicism more prominently (check the philosophy section in your local Barnes and Noble). The key tenants of Epicureanism were to disconnect from the political sphere and focus on the small pleasures of the here and now, such as gardening and friendship. Sound familiar? 

It’s not quite fair to call Tom an Epicurean because we don’t fully know what Tom is or what his role is, and because he is not mortal at all. But that is also exactly why he is probably the only one justified in being Epicurean. He is immortal. Death is nothing to him. He is married to Goldberry who is probably a maiar. He might be a maiar himself. Thus the affairs of this world don’t really apply to him. It is no surprise that this immortal gardener who lives in a perpetual state of peace of mind would not leave his home to go deal with someone else’s problem. What is surprising is that the other gardener in this story, Sam Gamgee, does exactly that. 

Sam Gamgee also comes from a place of peace and mind and harmony. Second to Bombadil’s home, the Shire is the most tranquil place in Middle Earth. Tolkien makes it very clear that hobbits are peace-loving folk. Why Frodo undertakes this journey makes a good deal of sense: his uncle is deeply involved, he’s always been curious about the outside world, multiple people tell him that this journey is meant for him (Gandalf, Elrond). But Sam is a different matter. He goes completely of his own choice. In fact, despite how it’s depicted in the movie, all the hobbits choose to go in full knowledge of the facts precisely because they judge that there are some things more important than peace of mind. Peace of mind is absolutely lovely, but sometimes struggle, suffering, and trial are worth choosing. Tolkien justifies the hobbits by including The Scouring of the Shire at the end of The Return of the King. If they had passed the problem off, if they had ducked their heads and chosen peace of mind, the war would still have come to them but they may not have been in a position to stop it and it might have been far worse.

We are not meant to relate to Tom Bombadil in the story—we are meant to relate to the hobbits. Thus, as tempting as it may be, I do not think we are meant to emulate Tom Bombadil either. 

Speaking from personal experience, it is so easy to organize you life entirely around peace of mind—avoiding people and situations that are stressful, shutting your eyes to conflict and tragedy, bemoaning the ills of reality. As I have thought deeply about these two gardeners over the last year, I have remembered that peace of mind is not my ultimate value. I also value justice, friendship, loyalty, and truth. I am so thankful for the hobbits who didn’t hide in the Shire, peace-loving folk that they were, but fought before the walls of Minas Tirith and the gates of Mordor, and walked into the very heart of the evil realm in order to preserve goodness. 

What do you want me to write on next? If you can think of a book or movie you’d like me to tackle from a philosophical perspective, leave it in the comments!