Lord of the Rings Gay

[Ed. note: This discourse encompasses homophobia and suicide references.]

Brokeback Mountain, yet to be released, meant a lack of visual representations of male affection, comfort, and kisses on the large screen. Early 2000s America, with its ubiquitous gay jokes, 'no homo' pronouncements, and derisive, often aggressive bullying in locker rooms aimed at perceived deviants, contrasted starkly with the solemn earnestness of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. This earnestness, paradoxically, made the films seem vulnerable.

2021 marks the Lord of the Rings' 20th anniversary; hence, we delve deeply into this enduring classic, dissecting why and how these films continue to resonate. This is Polygon's Year of the Ring.

Before literacy, The Lord of the Rings resonated within my creative soul as my earliest cherished literary experience. Nonetheless, for a considerable period, I consciously avoided it, avoiding mentioning it at school. The accusation of queerness became inextricably linked to a story of elves, hobbits, and impending evil.

Italo Calvino defined a classic as a work continually offering fresh insights. Certainly, The Lord of the Rings fulfills this definition. Recalling the book in the last year, as a long-out queer storyteller and creator, I was astonished to unearth a nuanced same-sex love story at its core.

Numerous relationships between men exist in the narrative, largely platonic. Merry and Pippin, cousins, engage in boisterous banter, teasing Frodo. Gandalf provides a parental role for the hobbits, both nurturing and frustrated. The intense brotherhood between Boromir and Faramir is complex, exploring their loyalty to their king, Aragorn. These relationships, while dramatic and illustrating the power of male friendship and familial bonds, do not have an overt romantic subtext. (This analysis focuses on the author's intention.)

The remarkable exception is Frodo and Samwise, an unlikely pairing: the Ring-bearer grappling with an immense burden, his devoted gardener, and a bond that ultimately saves their world. Tolkien structured Frodo and Sam's relationship, inspired by experiences of World War I—the connection between an upper-class officer and a lower-class batman. This relationship, in essence, is not inherently antithetical to romantic themes. Indeed, (several literary accounts exist), many accounts attest to queer soldiers forging relationships impossible in civilian life.

Frodo and Sam's relationship begins with class differences, a common theme in era-specific romances. But Frodo, through their shared experiences, observes Sam's latent attributes: poetic inspiration, fascination with fantastical themes, and bravery. Conversely, Sam's devotion to Frodo deepens with the journey. He displays affection and respect toward Frodo, frequently expressing loyalty and admiration in intimate acts of service.

As in any classic romance, shared adversity strengthens their bond and transforms each other as the most important people in their lives. Frodo proclaims to Sam, midway through The Two Towers, 'Samwise Gamgee, my dear hobbit, indeed, Sam my dearest hobbit, friend of friends.'

Peter Jackson's films amplify the tension between them as Frodo is corrupted by the Ring, adding dramatic depth. However, the book portrays their relationship as a refuge from external dangers, providing extensive descriptions of their interactions. When Frodo suffers grievous injuries, Sam stays by his side, (prioritizing his care over family relations) day and night. Sam observes Frodo's beauty; their emotions are evident in the long trek to Mordor—Tolkien's reflections highlight the intense intimacy of their bond. Their closeness manifested in constant hand-holding in the Dead Marshes, Shelob's lair, and moments of rest in Mordor.

Tolkien vividly depicts Sam as fiercely protective of Frodo and the devastating effect on Sam of Frodo's perceived demise. When Frodo is imprisoned, Sam's efforts to rescue him through improvised songs about hope and starlight are juxtaposed against Frodo's weakened condition. Following the arduous quest, they sleep in the same bed, culminating in a series of at least four kisses. Another encounter is notably absent of a kiss. Upon their return to the Shire, Sam joins Frodo in Bag End, moving from servant to equal and companion.

When a text is presented as a primary source, rather than a fictional narrative, it invites readers to uncover hidden truths. The narrator becomes an integral part of the fictional world, understanding that history is recorded from specific perspectives and particular intentions—a concept Tolkien, renowned for his Beowulf studies, would have understood.

Romance between individuals are scant in Tolkien's works, with no explicit sexual discussions between characters. (The Ring could signify lust and temptation). But Tolkien understood romance, citing chivalric romance as a peak of romantic expression: idealizing love beyond mere physical attraction, emphasizing fidelity and selflessness. Aragorn and Arwen's, Éowyn and Faramir's relationships, and the connection between Sam and Frodo, exemplify this form.

Further, the ancient Middle-earth tale of Beren and Lúthien parallels Frodo and Sam's narrative. Beren's impossible quest echoes Frodo's, with Lúthien steadfastly accompanying him. Like Frodo, Beren is imprisoned, and like Sam, Lúthien's song draws him out. The parallels between their adventures, from Beren's lost hand to Frodo's missing finger, and symbolic items like Galadriel's Phial, suggest intentionality by Tolkien.

Edward Brittain, a young World War I soldier, was court-martialed in 1918 for letters expressing same-sex relationships. He sacrificed himself to escape consequences. Alan Turing, a war-winning codebreaker and mathematician, faced similar persecution for his homosexual acts. He subsequently died.

Tolkien's era suppressed same-sex affection, making writing about it, without condemning it, a risky endeavor. (Even intimate correspondences were often kept private). C.S. Lewis's interactions with a "pious male homosexual" further illustrates the social norms of the time.

Although Tolkien's religious background could lead to assumptions about his intolerance, his published works do not offer any such evidence (as compared with C.S. Lewis). Carpenter's biography briefly mentions Tolkien's alleged ignorance of the word "homosexuality" at 19.

Many accounts of queerness during this era have vanished, yet the existence of queerness transcends social constraints and laws. Are there indications of Tolkien's interactions with his queer contemporaries?

Tolkien esteemed W.H. Auden, who published critical reviews of The Lord of the Rings. Auden visited Tolkien's house, remarking on its appearance. (This incident serves as a further discussion point.) According to Reynolds Price, one Inklings member discreetly maintained a same-sex life after his divorce. Moreover, Tolkien appreciated Mary Renault's writing, which celebrated same-sex relationships.

Tolkien's introduction to The Lord of the Rings notes the exceptional nature of Bilbo and Frodo as bachelors, highlighting this unique aspect, especially during drafts of The Hobbit where Tolkien had difficulty imagining a wife for him. Bilbo's home is described by others as 'queer', a term with homosexual connotations. (Strange fates of elves without marriages) Also, Legolas and Gimli's relationship displays an implicit same-sex romance.

Delving into queer history often encounters obstacles of uncertainty. Applying modern terms to individuals may be problematic, but modern terms like 'straight' and 'cisgender' are similarly arbitrary. Observing their lives with inclusivity and receptiveness is critical. Sean Astin, who played Sam, thoughtfully observed: 'I think Sam and Frodo should have kissed. How do you know they didn't?'

Near the end of the tale, Sam marries Rosie Cotton, with Frodo's approval, (negotiating his desire for family and fellowship). This union, along with other relationships, anticipates a flourishing future for Middle-earth.

Sam receives the hero's reward—a family and a life of pastoral bliss— understanding it would be incomplete without Frodo. However, as Tolkien poignantly observed, the most profound romances often depict their sorrowful separation. Frodo, burdened with unhealing wounds, departs Middle-earth for the Undying Lands, leaving Sam torn between his love for Frodo and family. This choice stems from Frodo's realization that Sam's happiness is contingent on his absence.

This prompts contemplation of Tolkien's lived experiences. (His camaraderie with a brilliant group of peers—young men—is mentioned). Geoffrey Bache Smith, a contemporary poet with homoromantic undertones, was tragically killed. Before his death, Smith penned a poignant letter to Tolkien.

The epilogue, rejected by readers, illustrates the lingering impact of this parting. Sam's teenage daughter expresses Sam's love for Frodo, and echoes the intense relationship of Celeborn and Galadriel in her observation. The epilogue ends with Sam hearing the ocean separating him from Frodo—suggesting that fulfillment does not eliminate loss.

Tolkien loved his wife Edith; Sam had Rosie. Nonetheless, there's space for other types of love, both within and beyond this fantastical world. Such love, amidst hardship, may not sustain itself, but it may nonetheless hold profound meaning. Such love deserves acknowledgment and appreciation.

Queerness has been part of human existence throughout history. Our descriptions may alter, but our hearts remain constant. Tracing our historical footprints is imperative. Sam Gamgee, like many of us, felt intensely drawn to stories, wondering whether his tale would be joyful or sorrowful. (Anticipation of a memorialization).

Tolkien implies Sam reunites with Frodo in the Undying Lands, though the narrative does not fully elaborate on the reunion. Exploring this aspect requires examining Tolkien's other profound romance, as depicted by Aragorn in "The Tale of Beren and Lúthien":

Gratitude to the Rev. Tom Emanuel, Putri Prihatini, Paul Springer, and other Tolkien scholars for their insights.

Works Cited
Berry, Paul and Mark Bostridge. Vera Brittain: A Life, Chatto & Windus, 1995.
Carpenter, Humphrey. J.R.R. Tolkien: A Biography, George Allen & Unwin, 1977.
The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, edited by Humphrey Carpenter and Christopher Tolkien, George Allen & Unwin, 1981.
Garth, John. Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle-earth, HarperCollins, 2003.
Lewis, C.S. Yours, Jack: Spiritual Direction from C.S. Lewis, HarperOne, 2008.
McGhee, Beth. 'Homosexuality in the First World War.' East Sussex WW1 Project. Accessed 30 June 2021.
Price, Reynolds. Ardent Spirits: Leaving Home, Coming Back, Scribner's, 2009.
Tolkien, J.R.R. Sauron Defeated, edited by Christopher Tolkien, George Allen & Unwin, 1992.
Tolkien, J.R.R. Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-earth, edited by Christopher Tolkien, George Allen & Unwin, 1981.
Rohy, Valerie. 'On Fairy Stories.' Modern Fiction Studies, vol. 50, no. 4, Winter 2004, pp. 927-948.
Tolkien and Alterity, edited by Christopher Vaccaro and Yvette Kisor, Palgrave Macmillan, 2017.