Newsgroup: it.fan.scrittori.tolkien
Titolo: L'eroismo di Frodo - saggio [LUNGO]

Su 
www.tolkienonline.com
 ho trovato questa bella riflessione su Frodo come
figura ispiratrice per la vita di tutti i giorni. Copio e incollo la
versione originale (inglese), se poi volete vi posto anche la versione
tradotta (da me).
---Copia---
One Step More: The Heroism of Frodo Baggins -- An Essay
August 16, 2002 - Friday
**The Trouble With Action Heroes**
Indiana Jones. Captain Kirk. Han Solo. The Road Warrior. Conan the
Barbarian. These are the heroes who populated the silver screen for much of
my youth. I loved them all. I still do.
But they are no comfort to me now.
They are all "action" heroes, you see. They are unremittingly masculine, in
the shallowest sense of the word. They are physically strong, brimming with
confidence and swagger. Their challenges are near impossible, their courage
unfailing.and one never doubts they'll win in the end. How could they not,
with their self-assurance, athletic prowess and quick-wittedness?
They rarely suffer although they may indulge in some hard liquor if their
nemesis murders their lady-love or buddy-partner.
...Indiana Jones sits in a bar in Cairo, whiskey bottle and glass before
him. Marion, he believes, has just been blown to smithereens. In a few
minutes he'll engage in cutting repartee with his arch-enemy and then get
back to the business of finding the Lost Ark...
Often, the true love or partner's death is just an excuse for the hero's
righteous vengeance.
...Conan leaves Valeria's funeral pyre and goes to demolish Thulsa Doom. He
has not wept over his warrior-love. Indeed, their friend Subatai does so,
saying, "He is Conan. He cannot cry. So I cry for him." But Conan can get
mighty violent when he's torn up inside. That he can do...
Sometimes, the loved one's demise does leave the hero suffering, but in an
emotionally cut-off sense that makes of him a wounded, seething,
trigger-happy loner.
Remember "Mad Max"?
Women, on the other hand, are rarely portrayed as heroes unless they take on
"masculine" attributes. Xena, the gorgeous and indomitable Warrior Princess,
comes to mind. How about Sarah Connor of The Terminator? Once she
understands what the future will bring, she transforms herself from "nice
girl who waits tables" to "muscle-bound, weapon toting, grim-hearted
fighter". And I love watching her do it. But.
I am female. I am forty-three. I am struggling with heavy sorrows, and so
are many of those around me. One friend suffers horrific, waking PTSD
flashbacks after two brutal rapes; another has just discovered his little
daughter has inherited the genetic disorder he carries; and another has had
to learn to walk again after a devastating leg injury that will impair her
for life. As for me, I have been told my young son is on "the autism
spectrum" -high-functioning but permanently affected.
Even if we did learn kung-fu fighting, it would avail us little.
Many of us are parents of young children. All of us have to hold it together
through some of the deepest anguish we've ever experienced.
In truth, this is the nature of most human suffering.
Caring for a parent with Alzheimer's, trying to cope with the loss of a
loved one, living with an abusive partner, surviving in a war zone or in
poverty, even getting up every day and going to a job you hate so your kids
can eat. Though they may have a clear beginning, these experiences have no
clear end. So much must be borne over months and years while we get on with
the business of living, our experience bleached of drama but not of pain.
Furthermore, our "enemies" are often impossible to confront. Like
geo-political conflicts or the global economy, they are too big. Like cancer
cells, faulty genetic code or neurotransmitters run amuck, they are too
small.
So few of our human struggles are like what we see in the movies. The Big
Crisis. The Tangible Enemy. The Final Battle. The Hero Wins or Dies
Gloriously. Tie it up with a ribbon. Fade to black. The end.
Which brings us back to action heroes. Schwarzeneggar. Willis. Segal.
When I feel inadequate, heartbroken and hopeless, I find no inspiration in
the exploits of these macho know-it-alls, for so much of my energy is spent
on just getting through the day. Neither can I relate to sappy "Movie of the
Week" type stories about people who overcome the disease, disaster or crime
du jour. These are too maudlin, too boring, and too unattached from larger
systems of meaning.
There is only one hero who inspires me now. His name is Frodo Baggins.
*Gentle Heroism: Frodo's Quest*
At first glance, you'd think that bachelor hobbits and run-of-the-mill 21st
century mothers would have very little in common. But in my darker
moments -the darkest, most despairing moments I experience as a human
being-there is no one I relate to more than Frodo. No one.
You know about Frodo, don't you? From J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the
Rings"?
Frodo is a hobbit, a member of a small, hairy-footed race that inhabits one
idyllic corner of Middle Earth. His task is to destroy the One Ring. The
Ring is an object reeking of pure evil that will work its corruption upon
him as he struggles to physically, mentally, and spiritually hold himself
together long enough to bear It to the Cracks of Doom, the one place It can
be annihilated. In a sense, it's a race. Will he make it to Mount Doom
before he is soul-destroyed?
Bearing the Ring is a horrific Fate, a destiny Frodo feels too small and
afraid to embrace. Yet there is no one else. He must embrace it.or turn from
it and let Middle Earth fall into Shadow.
He does not turn from this Fate. He weeps with dread, he staggers with
exhaustion, but he never gives up. The vile Ring tears at his soul, but he
does not flee in terror nor lay down and die. Even knowing the cursed object
is ripping him apart, he forces himself to take one step more.and then
another. By the end he is literally crawling. His beloved friend, Sam, must
pick him up and carry him.
Frodo is anything but macho. He is male, but he is a hobbit, and they are
open with their feelings, wearing their hearts on their sleeves. Good
friends unselfconsciously touch one another, freely hug one another, smile
and shed tears with equal ease. They may sometimes be provincial and
ignorant, but there is no arrogant swagger to our hero and his closest
friends -Sam, Merry, and Pippin. They are genuine. They represent a
nurturing masculinity that expresses traits more usually thought of as
"feminine". When Frodo is exhausted, starving, in terror -it shows.
Maybe that's why some people can't stand him.
*"That Hobbit's a Wuss": Frodo's Detractors*
Not everybody is fond of Frodo Baggins. Some people downright detest him.
They complain that he "whines". They gripe because he claimed the Ring in
the end, the wuss! They insinuate that he is "gay". (If Frodo Baggins can be
mistaken for "gay", gay people should be proud.)
Frodo's detractors want him to be free of doubt. They want him to be strong
and silent. They want him to be victorious.
They want him to be an action hero.
I think he threatens the heck out of them. But why?
Action heroes never express doubt.
Confidence is part of an action hero's attraction. Think of C-3PO or Mr.
Spock quoting the odds just so Han Solo or Captain Kirk can brazenly defy
them!
Frodo has doubts, loads of them. He's not sure he's going to make it. In
fact, he's pretty sure he isn't and he doesn't mind saying so. In "The Two
Towers" book, Sam expresses concern that their food might last to Mt. Doom,
but it won't last long enough to get them back. Frodo says:
"But Samwise Gamgee, my dear hobbit -indeed, Sam my dearest hobbit, friend
of friends-I do not think we need give thought to what comes after that. To
do the job, as you put it -what hope is there that we ever shall? And if we
do, who knows what will come of that? If the One goes into the Fire, and we
are at hand? I ask you, Sam, are we ever likely to need bread again? I think
not. If we can nurse our limbs to bring us to Mount Doom, that is all we can
do. More than I can, I begin to feel."
Action heroes never surrender to Fate.
Action heroes are in control. They do not acquiesce to Fate, but somehow
bend it to their will. Because they are able to do this, they minimize their
own suffering. Why should they suffer when they have the power to change
things? If they engage with Fate at all, it is in a very uplifting way for
it is always their Fate to come out on top.
Frodo is not passive. He fights, resists, shows mercy, makes choices. Yet he
is caught up in a mytho-historic drama much bigger than himself. He bows to
it, slowly coming to accept the dreadful burden that will cost him
absolutely everything. Although he must confront external evil at times, his
chief task is to weather the slow torment of his own soul as he slowly
creeps closer to Mordor. His suffering is terrible, and there is little
action he can take to alleviate it. He can only endure.
Action heroes do not speak the truth of their pain.
They don't talk about their troubles. They don't weep or need reassurance.
They don't do anything that might seem too female-like. In a misogynistic,
homophobic society, we require our action heroes to be stoic except when it
comes to rage of the hot or cold variety. Love motivates them, but only
through the medium of vengeance. When they lose their partner, wife, child
to some hideous evil, their pain is expressed through violent retribution.
Frodo is ever so reluctantly violent. He is a dreamer, a scholarly
introvert, not a warrior, and he dares to speak his pain. He never "whines",
but he does express sadness and regret, fear and hopelessness.
It is "movie" Frodo I think of now, standing on the banks of the Anduin,
holding the Ring in his outstretched hand. Tears stream down his face. He is
trying to steel himself to go on with the Ring alone -the only thing he can
do to protect his friends. He thinks: "I wish the Ring had never come to me.
I wish none of this had happened." Who can blame him for his terror and his
grief?
Frodo does go on, with loyal Sam as his only companion. He marches on foot
through desolate landscapes with little hope in his heart and little food in
his belly. Of the horrific battle raging inside him, he barely speaks. It is
not until Sam asks if he remembers a special meal they'd enjoyed in better
times that Frodo admits:
"No, I am afraid not, Sam. At least, I know that such things happened, but I
cannot see them. No taste of food, no feel of water, no sound of wind, no
memory of tree or grass or flower, no image of moon or star are left to me.
I am naked in the dark, Sam, and there is no veil between me and the wheel
of fire. I begin to see it even with my waking eyes, and all else fades."
This is not whining. This is telling it like it is.
Action heroes always win.
This goes without saying, doesn't it? Action heroes emerge victorious.
Furthermore, their victory is unblemished and totally theirs.
Frodo doesn't win, not exactly. He makes it to Mount Doom, thanks to his
unflagging efforts and Sam's blessed help, but he does not cast the Ring
into the Fire. After spending all his spiritual and physical strength
getting there, he is no match for a Ring made all-powerful by proximity to
its nefarious birth place. He does what he has been warned never to do and
what he has struggled against for months. He puts it on. He succumbs. He
"fails".
He is only human, hobbit or no.
When the One is destroyed it is not through Frodo's efforts alone. His goal
is achieved and Middle Earth is saved, but his role in the triumph is only
partial. Although he sacrificed everything he had -body, mind, will, heart,
soul-he is granted neither unadulterated victory nor glorious death.
And, of course, when it is all over and he can go home, he is never the
same.
He does not collapse in despair. He labors over the Red Book, for example,
chronicling his quest and the War of the Ring. He is supportive of Sam,
encouraging him to marry and inviting him and his bride to live at Bag End.
Still, he can find no peace. He is plagued with nightmares and other
symptoms of PTSD, not to mention the spiritual aftereffects of carrying the
cursed Ring. His wounds do not heal. His "illness" worsens. Finally, he
comes to accept that he must bid farewell to all he loves and seek healing
beyond Middle Earth.
*"Real" Heroism*
Pain. Doubt. Powerlessness. Human Frailty. An Ending That Feels So Unfair.
Frodo is too real for some people, and their ridicule reflects the degree of
their discomfort. His suffering is frightening, too symbolically close to
what they bear or what they might bear, down the road. They want to relate
to winners, manipulators of Fate, people who are in control, people who
can't be hurt. They want action heroes and a feel-good ending.
But those action heroes. They don't look like anybody we know, least of all
ourselves. And those candy-coated, Hollywood happily-ever-afters. They are a
cheat, far removed from what most of us can expect from this life.
How ironic. "The Lord of the Rings" has been dismissed by some as an
escapist fantasy, yet Frodo Baggins is more "real" than contemporary movie
heroes like Martin (Lethal Weapon) Riggs or John (Die Hard) McClane. He is
small. He is afraid. His heart is heavy. He does not always win. When it's
all just too much for him, he may speak his pain or shed tears.
He is like us.
How I love him for it, for all of it. It is Frodo who is the "real" hero. He
bows to Fate, but he is not passive. He makes sacrifices, but he is no
victim. He weeps, but he is no weakling. He quails, but he never gives up.
My friends and I -and many other people marching through this life with
heavy burdens-also feel small and afraid, all the more so if we are
disempowered by virtue of our social class or role, our color, our gender.
Each day is hard. There is no clear victory, no clear ending and, yes, there
are days when we sit down and cry.
What have macho action heroes to offer us? Nothing real. Nothing lasting.
Frodo, on the other hand, inspires and empowers. However exotic his
circumstances, I can relate to him. He is tired and scared, as am I. He has
been promised no reward, no glory. Nor have I. Love propels him onward even
when his heart is breaking, something I can understand.
When I am defeated, when I am so exhausted and full of despair I don't think
I can carry on one more second, when I am tempted to give up, I think of
Frodo. Frodo on that river bank. Frodo in the Dead Marshes. Frodo in Mordor.
Then I somehow find it within myself to take one step more.
With Frodo as my inspiration, I know I always will.
Reported By: ConnieMarie

 tradotta (da me).
Se l'hai tradotta e sei cosě gentile da postarla, cosě lo leggo in italiano
che sono pigro... :-)))
Elendil

 italiano che sono pigro... :-)))
Mi accodo..... ^___^
Matteo Namo

 la versione tradotta (da me).
Ho letto un po' e sembra interessante :-))))
Visto che ormai ti hanno chiesto la traduzione, se ti serve una mano,
magari per tradurne un pezzo, sono disposta ad aiutarti (per Frodo
questo e altro ^_^), anche se il mio inglese non e' un granche' (ma
tanto poi lo rivedresti tu).
I commenti li postiamo dopo, sulla traduzione, vero?
Ciao!
--
Erynvess,  #197 deI FeSTosi
I feel as if I was inside a song, if you take my meaning - Sam


Interessante. L'eroismo che fronteggia lentamente la pesantezza del
vivere (e la banalita' del male) vs. l'eroismo veloce e rapido, alla
Indiana Jones (ma il primo eroe cinematografico del genere fu,
probabilmente, Errol Flynn). 
Bye
S.