"The Lord of the Rings" by Frodo Baggins - How autoreflexive! It was just a thought that kept running through my mind while watching the ending sequence of the trilogy's third and final book today. It is a narrative commenting about a narrative in a self-reflexive manner that accentuates its narrativity.
Yet strangely enough, that mirror upon itself attempts to, as what Shakespeare once wrote, "mirror up to nature". Despite its genre as fantasy and its far-away, fantastical, magical (and elvish!) quality, there is so much more of the 'human' in the movie (perhaps derived from the humanist qualities of Tolkien's book itself). That is, perhaps, what's so captivating about narratives - the story, its plot and the captivating nature of a good story (re)told.
I felt drawn into Tolkien's Middle Earth, tied to the emotions of the characters and the quest. I felt what the pain the characters felt, I felt the loss the characters felt, I felt the joy and elation when good triumphed over evil. Despite my years of existence, I felt like a child once again living momentarily in another world. And I recalled why fantasy appealed to me so much as a child.
Apart from the use of digital effects, there was nothing 'spectacular' about its cinematographic elements, its editing or techniques. It is this simplicity that facilitated a good story. Friendship, bonds beyond tears, joy, death, pain and exhiliration; fellowship and strength, courage and determination - these were the qualities that appealed so much to me in the film, even the fear that an outnumbered human force faced was something so acutely depicted and portrayed. The strength and courage of heroes born in battle, in the face of seermingly insurmountable odds; Frodo's quest to destroy the ring and his purity and strength to resist temptation; Samwise's dedication and LOVE to a friend that forgives betrayal and misunderstanding - carrying Frodo to the entrance of Mt. Doom; the fearlessness of a new-found king, the courage of an old king answering the call to an alliance; the love, devotion and strength of heart of a daughter to her father. This is the 'human' - this is what captivates; these are the qualities that transcend time and space, even genres and worlds.
What are the battles in our own lives? We may never pick up a sword and feel the mixed emotions when riding into battle; we may never have a world-changing quest like Frodo's, and we may never face the evil that surmounts to Sauron's but we all have our own demons to fight, our own darkness to face and to bring light to. We all have our own battles raging within and without; we all have wars to fight. And we all have a quest and a journey - the journey of life. How do we fight our battles? With fear or with courage? How do we face darkness? Do we crumble in fear and trembling or find the light from within. How do we make the journey of our life one that is worthwhile, one that has meant something and made a difference to ourselves and those around us? Questions worth pondering ...
But perhaps what etched a mark were Frodo's words - when the quest is over; when we have fought our battles, when we look back ... "How do we pick up the threads of our old life? Perhaps we can't ... There are some things in life that time can never heal, wounds that are found too deep."
There are some battles in which I have fought yet lost - and with it people whom I've loved. I can only say that I am in absolute sympathy with and understanding of Frodo. We may never pick up the threads of our old life again when we have survived life-changing battles. I have just ended one; I survived but the life that I once knew is no longer. Yet in retrospect, that is not necessarily a bad thing. It also means growth.
And as Frodo tells Samwise, the story is now for you to continue.
And so the narrative of our life unfolds.
No comments:
Post a Comment