The Two Towers by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991, 2007) pp. 930-935
In the last post on my blog we watched Frodo shyly, uncertainly, begin to express his feelings regarding Sam. Frodo imagines a father reading the story of his and Sam’s adventures to his child and that child saying to his father:
“And Frodo wouldn’t have got far without Sam, would he, dad?”
It’s the closest that either Frodo or Sam have come to expressing how they feel about each other. Frodo is telling Sam that he needs him and that Sam has come to mean a lot to him. As we saw last time this isn’t a democratic relationship, a partnership of equals. Sam has no problem in calling Frodo, Master. Neither does he feel demeaned in any way in doing so. We have looked at other master-servant relationships in recent weeks, in particular that of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, but in the 20th century two such relationships come immediately to my mind. Dorothy Sayers creation of Lord Peter Wimsey and his servant, Bunter, and P.G Wodehouse’s creation of Bertie Wooster and his servant, Jeeves. In the former case the relationship began in the First World War in which Bunter served as Lord Peter’s batman. The relationship between them remains formal but it is laced with deep mutual respect, trust and considerable affection. Sayers and Tolkien knew one another, Sayers joining the Inklings from time to time and both shared a similar view of society although Sayers was more critical of it as she showed in her story, Gaudy Night, for example. Wodehouse’s wonderful joke in his Jeeves and Wooster stories is that everyone (apart from Bertie himself) is aware that Jeeves possesses a competence that Wooster entirely lacks but Jeeves is more than content to play the game that Wooster is the master and he the servant.
As we have already discussed, the relationship between Frodo and Sam is based upon Tolkien’s memory of his batman in the trenches. In this respect it is closer to the relationship between Peter Wimsey and his servant, Bunter. But I cannot quite imagine a scene in one of Dorothy Sayers stories ending with Lord Peter lying in Bunter’s lap as it does here with Frodo and Sam.
Many of my readers will be aware that some people in the LBGTQ world have claimed the relationship between Frodo and Sam as queer. I confess that I do not understand the various nuances in queer relationships enough to be able to dismiss this assertion completely out of hand. I am also aware, based upon my life as a straight man, that however straightforward any of my friendships have been with women over the years, I have come to practice a certain reserve, a caution, to prevent the crossing of boundaries. I say this because I do not know all the feelings that Sam, in particular, has for Frodo. But of one thing I am sure, and that is that Sam is deeply respectful of boundaries. They have been ingrained in him by his culture since birth. I only say this because I do not want to simply dismiss the deep love that Sam has for Frodo as if it doesn’t matter or even exist. I am only certain that it exists within carefully, even painfully formed boundaries.
There are boundaries in the relationship between Frodo and Sam but there is also deep tenderness, especially on Sam’s part. And Tolkien is not afraid to show this even though he is describing a relationship between two men. Sam will draw upon this tenderness again and again as the two hobbits draw ever closer to Mount Doom and Frodo withdraws ever further from him as the Ring tightens its grip upon Frodo’s heart. Indeed it is probably only this tenderness that will see them through to their goal together.
As I conclude this reflection I need to make a decision. Is the relationship between Frodo and Sam queer or not? I am going to come down on the side of saying that it is not. And the reason why I am going to make this choice is because I believe it is possible to separate tenderness from sexual attraction. From my experience women are much more capable of taking the risk of expressing tenderness without confusing it with romantic attraction than are men. I regard this as a unhappy shortcoming in many men who struggle with both giving and receiving tenderness. I would argue that one of the characters in The Lord of the Rings who will benefit most from Sam’s considerable ability to show tenderness will be Rosie Cotton who will marry him and bear his children. So will those children as well.
Sam brings his tender heart to his marriage to Rosie Cotton.
Wisdom from The Lord of the Rings 
Hello, Reverend Winter,
I have been thinking about this all week.
The tenderness between Sam and Frodo reminds me of 3 things from the New
Testament:
1. On Maundy Thursday, at the Last Supper, Christ washed his disciples’
feet, saying they could not take part in Him if he did not do this
service (John 13;8). After all, He came to SERVE, just as Sam “serves”
Frodo as a resting place, the servant comforting the master.
2. Later on Maundy Thursday, in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus asked
his disciples to wake and pray with him, but they fell asleep. In this
week’s excerpt from The Two Towers, Sam does what the disciples could
not: he did not “sleep from sorrow” (Luke 22;44-45).
3. At some point on Mount Doom, Frodo collapses utterly. Sam says “I
can’t carry it for you, but I CAN carry YOU!” This is Christ in action
in our hour of need. This is how he loves us, with divine tenderness (or
tender mercies).
To me, Sam is the most Christ-like figure in the whole Trilogy.
Thanks for making this the theme of the week.
Blessings,
Kate
Thank you for these thoughts, Kate. I agree that Sam often displays a Christ-like quality, especially in his sacrificial love for Frodo. All of us are called to live this way and are capable of doing so. But, as with all of us, Sam’s love has not been made perfect. Sam can also be possessive in his love. It is one of the reasons he dislikes Gollum so much. But then none of us have been made perfect yet. We all see in a glass dimly.
Nice blog post. Yeah, I agree, “queer” is a word with such weird meanings it’s hard to sometimes know what it means or where things fall, but … sometimes it seems like a way to stir up trouble, sometimes I understand how it happens … but I definitely think the world needs more stories of men who can show tenderness without fear that it indicates sexual attraction or something else improper!
(And in the modern climate, maybe those stories need disclaimers to make it very, very clear what they ARE (and, incidentally, what they are NOT) – and even so, some people won’t believe you, lol)
Hi Raina, thank you for sharing your thoughts here. Yes, I agree strongly that the world needs more male tenderness, both in stories and real life. I am 70 now and have spent a lifetime in both learning how to give and receive tenderness. My best teacher over 35 years has been my wife and then my daughters. They have been amazing but I still think I have a long way to go.