Frodo claims the power of The Ring on the slopes of Mount Doom, rather than beside the Cracks of Doom

It has been insightfully suggested by "Mikke" that the moment when Frodo claimed for himself the power of the One Ring actually happened a little earlier than most people realize. 

The usual reading is that Frodo makes this claim inside Mount Doom, standing next to the Cracks of Doom - just before he puts The Ring on his finger, and is perceived by Sauron. 

But Mikke has noticed that - a few minutes earlier - after Frodo grapples with, and casts down, Gollum; he makes a statement that is usually regarded as a prophecy that if Gollum touches The Ring again, he will himself be cast into the Cracks of Doom. 

This comes true, in effect - although it seems that Gollum falls into the fire by accident, rather than being thrown. 

But instead of a prophecy, Frodo's statement can plausibly be regarded as a command; as "casting a spell" or "geas"; and that Frodo is able to do this by claiming and using the power of the One Ring - but by grasping the ring to his chest (in effect to his heart) rather than putting it on his finger: Frodo becomes a figure robed in white, but at its breast it held a wheel of fire. 

In effect, it is The Ring speaking, when Frodo casts the geas; as is confirmed by Tolkien's phrasing: Out of the fire there spoke a commanding voice.  

By using the One Ring to dominate, to coerce; Frodo places himself under the "curse" that applies to all who claim the One Ring for the purpose of domination. 

After doing this, he was necessarily going to be incapable of destroying the One Ring.

This use of The Ring to command would also be an alternative explanation for Frodo's subsequent sickness of heart after The Ring had been destroyed; for which the only cure is his (therapeutic) sojourn in the undying lands. 

Here are Mikke's own words, which I have edited and re-ordered for greater clarity of exposition (since the ideas were published over several, confusingly-embedded, Tumblr entries), and to cut-out swear words:

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When Gollum attacks Frodo on the slopes of Mount Doom, Frodo has the chance to kill him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says: Frodo: Go! And if you ever lay hands on me again, you yourself shall be cast into the Fire! 

Frodo is literally, magically laying a curse. He’s holding the One Ring in his hands as he says it; even Sam, with no magic powers of his own, can sense that some powerful mojo is being laid down. 

Five pages later, Gollum tries to take the Ring again. Frodo’s geas takes effect and Gollum eats lava. 

Other people in the franchise who were offered the Ring declined to take it because they were wise enough to know that if they used its power – and the pressure to do so would be too great – they would be subject to its corruption. 

Also, after Frodo has thrown Gollum off and laid the geas, Sam observes that Frodo seems suddenly filled with energy again when previously he had been close to dead of fatigue. He hikes up the mountain so fast he leaves Sam behind – and doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s left him behind. Could he have been drawing on the Ring’s power at this point in the story? 

The moment that Frodo succumbs to temptation is not the moment at the volcano – it was already too late by then. The moment he is taken by temptation was when he used the power of the Ring to repel Gollum. 

If so, this ties in neatly with discussions I’ve seen about how Tolkien subscribes to a “not even once” view of good and evil – that in many other works it’s acceptable to do a small evil in service of a greater good, but in Lord of the Rings that always fails. 

In Lorien: 

‘I would ask one thing before we go,’ said Frodo, ‘a thing which I often meant to ask Gandalf in Rivendell. I am permitted to wear the One Ring: why cannot I see all the others and know the thoughts of those that wear them?’ ‘You have not tried,’ [Galadriel] said. ‘Only thrice have you set the Ring upon your finger since you knew what you possessed. Do not try! It would destroy you. Did not Gandalf tell you that the rings give power according to the measure of each possessor? Before you could use that power you would need to become stronger, and to train your will to the domination of others.’ 

On the slopes of Mount Doom:

‘Down, down!’ [Frodo] gasped, clutching his hand to his breast, so that beneath the cover of his leather shirt he clasped the Ring. 'Down, you creeping thing, and out of my path! Your time is at an end. You cannot slay me or betray me now.’ 

Then suddenly, Sam saw these two rivals with other vision. A crouching shape, scarcely more than the shadow of a living thing, a creature now wholly ruined and defeated, yet filled with a hideous lust and rage; and before it stood stern, untouchable now by pity, a figure robed in white, but at its breast it held a wheel of fire. 

Out of the fire there spoke a commanding voice. ‘Begone, and trouble me no more! If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.’ Then the vision passed and Sam saw Frodo standing, hand on breast, his breath coming in great gasps, and Gollum at his feet, resting on his knees with his wide-splayed hands upon the ground.

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I find this idea to be coherent and very well supported by the text, and I am convinced by it; despite that (so far as I know) the interpretation is not explicitly confirmed as authorial intent by Tolkien himself. Perhaps Tolkien wrote it this way because it felt right, although the reasons for this were, apparently, unconscious.   

Note: Further interesting discussion of this theory, may be found here. 

The Voyage of Éarendel the Evening Star - For me, Tolkien's first good poem

The Voyage of Éarendel the Evening Star 

First version - dated 24 September 1914 

JRR Tolkien was 22 years old. 

Éarendel sprang up from the Ocean's cup

In the gloom of the mid-world's rim; 

From the door of Night as a ray of light 

Leapt over the twilight brim, 

And launching his bark like a silver spark 

From the golden-fading sand 

Down the sunlit breath of Day's fiery Death 

He sped from Westerland. 

He threaded his path o'er the aftermath 

Of the glory of the Sun, 

And went wandering far past many a star 

In his gleaming galleon. 

On the gathering tide of darkness ride 

The argosies of the sky, 

And spangle the night with their sails of light 

As the Evening star goes by. 

But unheeding he dips past these twinkling ships, 

By his wandering spirit whirled 

On an magic quest through the darkening West 

Toward the margent of the world; 

And he fares in haste o'er the jewelled waste 

To the dusk from whence he came 

With his heart afire with bright desire 

And his face in silver flame. 

For the Ship of the Moon from the East comes soon 

From the Haven of the Sun, 

Whose white gates gleam in the coming beam 

Of the mighty silver one. 

Lo! with bellying clouds as his vessel's shrouds 

He weighs anchor down the dark, 

And on shimmering oars leaves the skiey shores 

In his argent-orbéd bark. 

And Éarendel fled from that Shipman dread 

Beyond the dark earth's pale, 

Back under the rim of the Ocean dim, 

And behind the world set sail; 

And he heard the mirth of the folk of earth 

And hearkened to their tears, 

As the world dropped back in a cloudy wrack 

On its journey down the years. 

Then he glimmering passed to the starless vast 

As an isléd lamp at sea, 

And beyond the ken of mortal men 

Set his lonely errantry, 

Tracking the Sun in his galleon 

And voyaging the skies 

Till his splendour was shorn by the birth of Morn 

And he died with the Dawn in his eyes.

**

I first had this poem brought to my attention by the reading and analysis on John Garth's Tolkien and the Great War; although it was mentioned by Carpenter's biography as the earliest recorded beginning of the Legendarium, and was featured in The Book of Lost Tales which I had read - but without registering this lovely poem.

In my slow read through of the chronological ordering of JRR Tolkiens poems (in the 2024 three volume Collected Poems, edited by Scull and Hammond) this is the sixteenth poem, and the earliest that I whole-heartedly enjoyed and appreciated. 

I also preferred the first draft - that version reproduced above - over Tolkien's several later revisions. Some of my favourite lines, including the first, were omitted or changed in later versions. 

The revisions came after JRRT tried to discover what this poem meant - he was (apparently) not consciously aware of the poems meaning at the time of writing.

The word Earendil (encountered in the context of an Old English poem Crist) was of great significance to Tolkien - it seems to have acted as a catalyst which started the creation of his mythology (the Legendarium) - initially with the Lost Tales. 

At the point when the above poem was written, the meaning of Earendil had not crystallized for Tolkien. It was during the process of working on this poem that it began to be "discovered". 

At the time of writing, Earendil was apparently a person, a mariner who launches from the ocean into the skies; and who encounters personified celestial bodies the Sun, and Moon, and Venus - the evening star. 

He traverses the dark aspect of the earth from West (sunset) to East (sunrise); and then dies, apparently in a kind of blissful consummation, by being consumed by the light of dawn. 

This may be a cyclical myth of the events of every night; or it may be the account of a single day's - triumphant, but terminal - voyage. Tolkien seems to have been drawn to both possibilities in his later work.   

Later revisions tried to clarify, or impose, a more consistent allegorical and/or mythological meaning. After many intermediate stages; the character of Earendil (half-elven, father of Elrond and Elros) was eventually given a vital role in the mythology. 

And - in his enchanted boat and with a Silmaril on his brow - Earendil was ultimately transformed into what we call "Venus", which is (at different phases of its orbit) both the Evening Star and the Morning Star (brightest of all celestial bodies, except the moon); recognized as a sign of new hope for the elves of Middle Earth. 

But this destination not was evident to Tolkien at the time of first writing the Voyage of Earendil. He was groping in the dark, and working almost entirely by inspiration and intuition. 

A great deal was gained by the subsequent development of the myths - and we modern readers look back from this state of knowledge; but I also feel that something fresh and lovely in the September 1914 poem was lost in the process.