The ending of Book Four (The Two Towers) is abrupt and somewhat of a cliff-hanger. I think it’s kind of sad that Gollum didn’t have a better character development. I expected him to change into a better person because of Frodo’s kindness, but after all, he’s been wretched and wicked for quite a long time for a hobbit’s lifespan. When he agreed to help Frodo out and to never harm him, you would think he actually did it out of kindness when it was a trap all along. I feel like his evilness is partly because of his nature and partly because of having possession of the Ring for so long; he is not strong enough to resist and stay pure like Frodo – which is kind of pitiful.
Meanwhile, Sam’s character development is much better, as in the most life threatening moments he is willing to sacrifice his own life for Frodo. And almost all throughout the book he is always following Frodo’s choices, occasionally pitching in his own opinion, but never really making real decisions, as he isn’t really good at them. But in the last chapter, when he sees Frodo lying unconscious, he grits his teeth and takes on the burden of the Ring, which isn’t an easy task or an easy decision to make. “‘But what can I do? Not leave Mr. Frodo dead, unburied on the top of the mountains, and go home? Or go on? Go on?’ he repeated, and for a moment doubt and fear shook him. ‘Go on? Is that what I’ve got to do? And leave him?’” (Tolkien, page 714). This is a huge moment for Sam, as he has to step up and use the power he now has in his hands. It’s nice to see Sam showing courage to go on without his master, since he truly believed Frodo was dead and that he had to face the terrifying journey ahead alone. Speaking of which, when Tolkien wrote that Frodo was dead, I almost didn’t believe it, because he’s the main character, and there’s still The Return of the King before the series ends, so I thought there even if Frodo was dead for now, there’s going to be a way he would come back alive later. Nevertheless, I was still relieved when I found out that Frodo wasn’t actually dead, it was just the effect of Shelob’s poison. Yet I think this once again shows how skilled Tolkien is in plotting his tales, because this was a perfect chance to let Sam grow.
Melody has just begun Intro to Rhetoric and is succeeding with her quick analyses of various state essays. Having read the preface by Matt Weiland, she understands the purpose of the book, and we can see here that she is responding to the standard set out by Weiland with brief reviews.
Bechdel arranges her essay in a way that very much aligns with my expectations for State by State—mixing cultural and historical anecdotes about the state with the authors’ experience in a personal narrative. She opens with a bold anecdote about impulsively moving to Vermont to be with her girlfriend after only three months, only to later come to the realization that she had fallen in love with “the state, and not the person.” This initial rash decision contrasts with her slower, more introspective analysis of what exactly it is that she loves about Vermont. She speculates on several possibilities: the fact that “there’s always somewhere to go,” the insignificance she feels when standing on a summit, or even a genetic connection, as she recalls her grandfather herding goats in the Austrian Alps.
Bechdel’s essay matches the goal that Weiland and Wilsey set for State by State: using personal moments to immerse the reader while tying them to broader cultural and historical contexts. Her seemingly unrelated reflections—such as her grandfather taking her to see The Sound of Music, which then leads her to describe Vermont as “absen[t] of Nazis, presen[t] of hills”—are all linked by a common idea: Vermont’s identity as a place of contradiction and independence. She critiques the state’s political landscape in a satirical tone, acknowledging the presence of right-wing Vermonters who discriminate against people like her, while also pointing out the left-wing “freak show” she belongs to, a category that includes “homosexuals, land conservationists, egalitarian school funding, [our] socialist congressman, and Ben & Jerry’s.” This humorous yet biting critique reinforces Vermont’s oxymoronic nature—both fiercely conservative and radically progressive.
Bechdel also dives into Vermont’s historical significance, emphasizing its role as the first state to abolish slavery and the impact of Ethan Allen, “Vermont’s founding hero,” who is claimed by both liberals and conservatives. On page 465, she satirically critiques Vermont’s obsession with independence through snarky references to the “independent bookstore,” the “independent hardware store,” and the “independent stationery store,” emphasizing the state’s deeply ingrained self-perception as a sovereign nation—something rooted in its history as an independent republic for fourteen years. She extends this commentary on page 466 with an observation about the “non-chain theatre” audience, describing them as “graying, erudite back-to-the-landers,” further illustrating Vermont’s distinct cultural character.
In terms of impact, Bechdel’s essay exceeded my expectations. The preface and introduction to State by State suggested that each essay would serve as a personally yet insightful view of a state, and Bechdel achieves this with humor, irony, and clear analysis. While I anticipated a blend of memoir and state commentary, I didn’t expect her approach to be so fluid and conversational—almost like following the natural progression of her thoughts rather than reading a structured essay. Comparing Vermont to Oregon, I felt that Oregon was way different from my expectations, a lot of jumping back and forth in time and pessimistic attitude which covered up more about the historical impacts of the state (I thought he might talk about the Oregon Trail, but I guess not).
Alaska
Greenberg arranges his essay, Alaska, by capturing the state through a personal, yet fragmented reflection on their identity and isolation. Rather than offering a usual travelogue or historical overview, like Vermont, he arranges Alaska in short vignettes and anecdotes, mirroring the unpredictability of the Alaskan landscape, and maybe his own fragmented connection to it as well.
On page 21, Greenberg really delivers a sense of tension between wilderness and the self. “We stayed in a friend’s cabin, no plumbing, wood stove, outhouse…” where he compares the domestic routines with the rawness of nature, while quietly hinting at a deeper internal desolation. Each memory feels like a quiet confession, bringing the reader’s attention to how Alaska’s not just “USA’s own third world country” but really a space where people are stripped to their barest selves. Greenberg’s essay succeeds in the goal that Weiland and Wilsey set for State by State: using the tiny anecdotes to break down stereotypes and deliver a more intimate portrayal of Alaska. Rather than reinforcing the “final frontier” image of Alaska, Greenberg complicates it. He acknowledges the grandeur of the state but centers the essay on human vulnerability instead. What I was not expecting was his subtle, sparse storytelling, rather than something more scenic or bold in tone. Obviously, in a state like Alaska, it looks a lot different than the heart of New York City, so effective imagery is extremely helpful in terms of context for its landscape and culture. His sparse and disjointed storytelling makes the reader a little lost, often wondering where and when he has moved onto, and how it’s connected to the story he’s sharing.
The first time we ever met Gollum is in The Hobbit. And even though he has been discussed in The Fellowship of the Ring, he was never really shown up. We finally get to meet him again in Book Four, Chapter One, where he has been tailing Frodo and Sam all along, and he was looking to get his “precious” Ring back. Now, how he has been discussed all along before we meet him made him sound like a vile, evil creature who has been devoured by the power of the Ring. But much to my surprise when I read Chapter One, his character has developed quite a bit. And yes, Gollum is a terrible creature, but Gollum is Gollum. He’s a whole different creature compared to Smeagol. Smeagol is a hobbit who found the Ring ages ago and was consumed by the power.
Andy Serkis as Smeagol
Essentially they are the same, but as we learn from Gollum’s monologue, he is talking to himself. Could the split be Gollum talking to Smeagol and vice versa? The way I see it, is that all the time with the Ring, it has created an evil, selfish creature inside of Smeagol, called Gollum.
Andy Serkis as Gollum
“‘Yess. Yess. No!’ shrieked Gollum. ‘Once, by accident it was, wasn’t it, precious? Yes, by accident. But we won’t go back, no, no!’ Then suddenly his voice and language changed, and he sobbed in his throat, and spoke not to them. ‘Leave me alone, gollum! You hurt me. O my poor hands, gollum! I, we, I don’t want to come back. I can’t find it. I am tired. I, we can’t find it, gollum, gollum, no, nowhere. They’re always awake. Dwarves, Men, and Elves with bright eyes. I can’t find it. Ach!’ He got up and clenched his long hand into a bony fleshless knot, shaking it towards the East. ‘We won’t!’ he cried. ‘Not for you.’ Then he collapsed again. ‘Gollum, gollum,’ he whimpered with his face to the ground. ‘Don’t look at us! Go away! Go to sleep!’”, (Tolkien, page 662). This quote is crucial to understand the psychology and the damage the Ring has done to Smeagol. The Ring has the power to change anyone; we have Bilbo as proof. But if it has been with someone like Smeagol for a very very long time, Smeagol is proof it will create a monster inside of you (Gollum) that will get stronger and stronger until you can no longer control it, until it bends your will. We learn that maybe Smeagol has grown in a way. He has grown extremely tired of being controlled by Gollum and the Ring, but since he’s powerless, he’s desperate and weak. But can he prove to be trustworthy? I’d say that’s hard to say after how he had once escaped one of the most strongly guarded prisons. Around the end of Chapter One, we can see that Frodo makes Smeagol or Gollum promise that he will lead them to Mordor, with the threat that if he doesn’t they will use the Elves rope to bind him, causing him torturous pain. At the end of the Chapter, we get a closer look at Smeagol’s personality, or at least how he is around Frodo and Sam. “From that moment a change, which lasted for some time, came over to him. He spoke with less hissing and whining, and he spoke to his companions direct, not to his precious self. He would cringe and flinch, if they stepped near him or made any sudden movement, and he avoided the touch of their elven-cloaks; but he was friendly, and indeed pitifully anxious to please”, (Tolkien, page 664). There is a humongous effect the Ring had on Smeagol after such a long time. But yet, Frodo proves there is a power that can weaken the monster the Ring had created inside of Smeagol: kindness.
Jason is just beginning Intro to Rhetoric which uses State by State: A Panoramic Portrait of America as textbook. Many years ago (10) another student wrote an essay on Joe Sacco’s inimitable style, but in Jason’s foray into the unit, he hit a line drive that kept on sailing until … HOMERUN!
One of the most perplexing things about Joe Sacco’s graphic essay on Oregon is the overall negative tone. Perhaps this is simply Sacco’s style, but is Sacco aiming to portray Oregon as a place for people with a sense of inadequacy? The short answer is that he does not. For the long answer, we have to examine the purpose of the heavy tone applied to the essay.
We know that Sacco sees Oregon in a positive light. He establishes this in the first cell of the entire graphic essay, where he tells the reader that he’s “lived in Oregon on and off” since he was 14. If Sacco truly does not view Oregon in a positive light, he would not have “lived in Oregon on and off,” as he implies that he had returned to the state from other places; he may have had his grievances, but he loves the state anyway. Why would he return to a place that he does not want to live in?
Also, although he is seemingly in a war with Portland’s weather, we see through his self-deprecation and regular discomfort that he is averse to disorder. We see this in how he claims to suffer in any weather, perhaps the most disorderly thing on Earth. He wipes mud off of the dog before letting it inside on the “polished, hardwood floor,” and he portrays his discomfort visually when Amalie trails mud on the floor. He is a man of order, which he shows with his system for not losing umbrellas; he attempts to counteract the variability of weather by always carrying an umbrella with him.
On the other hand, he manages to change within his framework of order throughout the graphic essay, to the point where he welcomes the enriching (gentrification) of the Pearl District. The last bubble, “It will matter that much less whether it rains or shines,” does not have a distinct character attached to it. The cell seems to follow Amalie’s line of thinking, but it seems like Sacco’s thought too. In a sense, Sacco’s essay on Oregon is a journey of embracing the disorderly characteristics of his life, as by the end of the essay, Sacco seems to imply that moving downtown would help him get over his issues with weather.
The twenty-three-year-long time span of the essay depicts this journey toward fully accepting the chaotic nature of Oregon (as depicted through the weather) through the overall negative tone. Sacco communicates to the reader that to truly appreciate the state of Oregon one must see past the rainy gloom of Portland and look, perhaps, to the desert that his friend, Mike, painted. Sacco aims to portray Oregon as a blank slate, and it can only be what the reader wants it to be, similarly to how Sacco had to craft his experience of Oregon until he could see past the weather.
Saruman was first mentioned in The Fellowship of the Ring, by J. R. R. Tolkien in Chapter 2, The Council of Elrond. It was where everyone meets up, including Bilbo, and talks about what to do next about the great evil rising, and what to do with the Ring. Gandalf tells his story about Saruman’s betrayal. And it was then it became clear that Saruman had crossed to the evil side: “‘I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered. ‘I liked white better,’ I said. ‘White!’ he sneered. ‘It serves as a beginning. White cloth may be dyed. The white page can be overwritten; and the white light can be broken’“(page 252). From this, we can see that Saruman’s morals and principles were diminished, and it seems from then on Saruman just gets worse and worse. I think the cloth changing colors is to show white means purity and wisdom, but it can change colors according to its wearer, and in this case, Saruman is shifting, so there are more colors, meaning something has invaded his purity to remain good, as he did later on try to hold Gandalf captive in Isengard. Luckily, Gandalf escapes and redeems himself and becomes Gandalf the White instead of Gandalf the Grey, since the wizards needed a new leader now that Saruman has gone evil. Moving on to The Two Towers, Saruman’s plans show that he is growing more and more selfish and power hungry. The reason for that is he has creatures like Orcs working for him to capture Merry and Pippin, because he thinks having them would somehow help him get closer to the Ring. Which proves to be a terrible plan because Merry and Pippin are brighter and braver than you think, for they eventually escape by offering a cruel Orc a bribe and taking advantage of the chance to run away; and now, we can see that Saruman is actually weakening. He still puts up a great fight when Treebeard and his Ents invade and destroy his territory, but when Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Theoden, and Eomer confront him, his voice doesn’t quite work on them, partly because of the strong wills of who Saruman is trying to waver, but also because it seems the evil has done him damage, too. Not to mention, Saruman is really prideful, which is one of the reasons why he’s not willing to take Gandalf’s offered chance to him: “his voice was shrill and cold. Pride and hate conquering him. ‘Will I come down?’ he mocked”, (Tolkien, page 568). His hatred and betrayal leads to Gandalf breaking his staff.
