Giving and hoarding – symbolic value

Giving of gifts is seen to be very positive in Tolkien’s legendarium. I’m thinking of such occurrences as Eomer’s attempt to give gifts to Merry and the language that Aragorn uses when he refers to the ‘gift’ of Eowyn to Gondor (and not to Faramir, note). Similarly, Bilbo’s giving of new gifts on his birthdays is noted strongly and described in detail. The whole culture of giving presents at one’s own birthday is particularly noted, as if to emphasise the generosity of the Hobbits as a people. One of Celeborn’s titles is giver of gifts beyond the power of kings (which also reminds us that he is not, in fact, a king himself, incidentally).

But these gifts are, in effect, transactions in which there is a tangible and useful benefit for the giver as well as the recipient of the gift. Giving without reciprocation is extremely unusual in LOTR and the other texts that make up the legendarium. Value is exchanged, although the value may not be of exactly the same kind. At the simplest level, the tradition of giving gifts on one’s own birthday in the Shire means that Shire children will receive a gift approximately every week. This is clearly a worthwhile investment on the behalf of the Hobbit parents.

Bilbo certainly gave presents on an extravagant scale, but this giving is symbolic of his own wealth and power in the Shire hierarchy. He is a member of the Hobbit elite, regardless of how eccentric he is. After all, no one refused to attend his Eleventy-first birthday party, not even the Sackville-Bagginses. The reputation for wealth and generosity ensured that Bilbo did not entirely become a pariah in his home. Not that I mean to suggest that the Hobbits consciously thought about what sort of gifts they might receive (except, perhaps, for the Sackville-Bagginses themselves).

Pierre Bourdieu’s first well known anthropological study was into gift giving as an exchange of symbolic value. He noted that the gifts had to be perceived as presents, given disinterestedly by the giver, and not as trade or barter. If the gifts were explicitly given this kind of economic value, the social system dependent on gift giving would collapse. The economic regime and the symbolic regime needed to be kept separate. However, the exchange of gifts did actually function to ‘purchase’ services, prestige, social advantage or the return of gifts approximating the same value. I believe there is a strong element of this schema present in many of Tolkien’s cultures, and quite explicitly treated this way in the texts. This is, perhaps, derived from the gift-giving traditions of some of the cultures Tolkien used as inspiration (e.g. in Beowulf the chiefs give gifts to demonstrate their wealth and power and to circumvent the hostility to strangers by bringing them into the household).

Gift giving is also simply symbolic of the givers wealth and prestige, and of their position in the social hierarchy. Imagine the word-hoard for a moment. There is no point in keeping it locked up. Unused words simply vanish – forgotten by the user, or indeed lost forever as some languages have been. Secondly, unshared words are intrinsically value-less. They cannot communicate, and they cannot bring prestige to the user. A poet or hero who remains silent (keeping his hoard locked) cannot gain patronage, cannot boast of their deeds, cannot sing their songs. Value is in sharing and giving. Rewards can only be reaped by letting things go.

In Tolkien’s legendarium, giving of any kind carries the same symbolic weight as speaking or singing. Giving symbolises that the wealth-holder has enough to give – having wealth is not in itself a virtue, but giving wealth away is a virtue. Perhaps in Middle-earth one could say it is the virtue. Not because charity is good, but rather because it confirms the giver’s position in society, and affirms society itself as interdependent.

This does not necessarily equate with personal sacrifice, although the two concepts may be related. Frodo’s sacrifice of himself, for example, is markedly different to his gift of Bag End to Sam. This gift (as does Lobelia’s return of Bag End to Frodo) gives Sam the position of land-owner, and thus gives him a political and social identity in the Shire. It is then Sam’s turn to give, which he continues to do throughout his own life, starting with the sharing of Galadriel’s box.

On the other side are those who amass things and hoard it, but who do not share. First on the list would be the dragons, who appreciate neither beauty nor utility but have an insatiable desire for more . They do not have a position in society to maintain, and find others’ need for this amusing , if Smaug’s play with Bilbo and Glaurung’s play with Turin is anything to go by. Also, of course, there is Feanor, Sauron and Melkor, great makers who cannot share or play nicely with others.

Here then, is the key. The evil act is not to make or amass wealth (whether it be in wisdom or artifacts or money). The evil act is to not give of it generously. Not because selfishness is intrinsically wrong, but because it undermines the structure of the society, and the place of the individual in the kinship networks. The value of ‘good’ is to belong to your group, and to belong in the right place. Giving symbolises this position of ‘rightness’.

Failure to give is the beginning point of the turn to evil. Gollum’s decision to ask Deagol for the Ring when Deagol had already given him a present opens the door to all his other transgressive acts (especially the killing of poor Deagol). Deagol was well within his social rights to refuse to give Gollum the Ring. Perhaps Gollum’s brief rehabilitation occurs when he gives Sam the rabbits, although he will not be able to eat them himself once they are cooked.

Galadriel has also hoarded without giving in Lorien. She has kept the power of her ring for herself, without allowing outsiders or the rest of Middle-earth to benefit. This dooms Lorien, as it doomed Gondolin and Doriath (although less violently). When she does open her borders to the Fellowship, and when she and Celeborn give gifts of themselves and Lorien (including the phial with the light of the Silmarils, Galadriel’s lock of hair, cloaks made by Galadriel and her maidens and lembas – all things created using the ‘magic’ present in Galadriel and Lorien) she can then return to Aman. It is not only her refusal of the Ring that allows her rehabilitation, but a return to the gift-giving that allows her a position in her society again. Most symbolically, perhaps, her gift to Sam allows a little of the beauty of the Trees to stay in Middle-earth forever in the Shire, rather than being lost forever.

Finally, this suggests that Feanor’s choice to hoard and keep the Silmarils rather than giving them to Yavanna does have great symbolic impact in the story, even though the Silmarils had already been stolen by Melkor. Feanor did, indeed, align himself with the evil-doers of Arda, by choosing not to give, and thus to give up his place in his society. Without the prestige, obligation and spiritual reward offered to those who give, Feanor could no longer function as a moral agent.