Drowning in the Forest

“The Old Forest” chapter dramatically evokes the claustrophobia of a wild, enigmatic forest.  Yet it does so in a very particular and perhaps peculiar way.  The chapter deftly mixes fear and sensuality to describe a journey into a place that is dangerous, but not always or necessarily evil.  It seems to me that the predominant imagery here is that of deepness and water.  Being lost in the woods can be a frightening experience – but the hobbits are not just lost, they are drowning in a world of organic magic, brooding bitterness, and ancient power.

We get an early clue that this will be a vertical as well as a horizontal journey when the hobbits enter the forest by means of a tunnel that was “dark and damp.”  Merry described how, in his previous excursions into the woods, “branches swayed and groped without any wind.”  One could imagine, in similar fashion, seaweed or the tentacles of octopi twisting in an ocean current.  At one point the metaphor becomes precise, and the hobbits look out upon “a sea of trees.”

The watery imagery is pervasive, as with the “deep folds” in the ground that resembled “wide moats and sunken roads.”  The trees themselves are described as getting not just “darker” but “deeper.”  Those evocations become more obvious and literal as the hobbits reach the valley of the River Withywindle: “The ground grew soft, and in places boggy.”  As the chapter proceeds, Frodo, in fact, almost drowns in the river, having fallen asleep on the bank.  Sam finds that “a great tree-root seemed to be over him and holding him down, but he was not struggling.”  So Frodo sleeps, dreams, and nearly drowns in the tree’s embrace.  Merry’s dilemma brings the “undercurrent” of the chapter to its greatest fruition.  He is, as many of you will remember, trapped inside a tree – swallowed Jonah-fashion by a willow-whale – almost drowning in the arboreal malleability of the forest.

Being lost can be like drowning – and being found can be a kind of rescue.  Enter Tom Bombadil.