The opening chapters of the novel introduce readers to the society and habits of hobbits in general and the peculiar Baggins family in particular. Bilbo’s lavish birthday party establishes the simple pleasures of hobbit-life, which center around the celebration of living with excellent food, fine drink, the giving of presents, and delight in toys and fireworks. The hobbits’ behavior around the party, especially the conversation of Gaffer Gamgee and the company at the Green Dragon, also reveals their shortcomings: Hobbits are provincial, inclined to gossip, and even greedy, as the traveling hobbit’s fascination with Bilbo’s legendary wealth indicates. In other words, hobbits are typical of the English before the wars, secure in their safe little green country with all the good and bad that comes with that condition.
When Gandalf arrives with news that Bilbo’s magic ring is the One Ring—the physical embodiment of all that is most evil in Middle-earth—the threat to the Shire’s tranquility motivates Frodo to take up the quest far more than his desire to have an adventure, although the prospect of escaping the Shire’s provincial life certainly appeals to him. Not only does Frodo repeatedly comment on his desire to protect the Shire’s “stupid” inhabitants, that desire is also shared by many of the other characters, including Gandalf. One of the major themes of the book focuses on the preservation of the Shire as an ideal community, characterized by the common sense of its citizens and their connection to the land in which they live.
This ideal country is not a wild one, although there is room in it for wild spaces. As the hobbits’ journey demonstrates, the wilderness is a place that is beautiful but also dangerous. The Old Forest, and Old Man Willow at its heart, represents nature as a threatening place. It is also isolated: Both their encounter with the wicked tree and their earlier experiences with the Black Riders demonstrate that the loneliness of wild places can be lethal. Without the support of a community, of people who can be called upon to help when needed, the hobbits are terribly vulnerable. They nearly lose their lives more than once—and, because of the Ring, that loss would be disastrous not only to themselves, but to the Shire and to all of Middle-earth.
What saves the quest and the hobbits’ lives is not their own actions—although they do their best, as when Sam and Frodo run for help in the forest, their best will clearly not solve the problem. In both cases, they are saved by luck. First the elves happen to come by; then Tom Bombadil happens to be gathering lilies for his wife. Neither rescuer has any idea that the hobbits might need help, yet both arrive just at the right moment to lend aid. Many such moments in the story dramatize the principle that Gandalf invokes when explaining how the Ring came to Bilbo, of all people: “I can put it no more plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought.” Although the hobbits’ narrow escapes may seem the work of luck or chance, they may also have a meaning or intention far beyond our own perception.
