Well, you admit right off the bat that Bilbo's primary motivation isn't greed, so the ship is already essentially sinking
Nonsense. There's a huge middle term between being
primarily motivated by greed and not being motivated by greed at all. People whose primary motivation isn't greed can be motivated
secondarily by it, or motivated by it often in a small way or a whole lot sometimes. As first introduced to us, Bilbo doesn’t appear to be greedy for wealth (greedy for food is another matter entirely): but then, if all your life you've been one of the richest people you know, and have never seen anything to want that you couldn't buy, that's no great merit. When he does encounter treasure, or anything attractively shiny, Tolkien is clear that he
does feel greed for it, and acts accordingly. He feels greed for the Arkenstone right to the end: he finally gives it up
'not without a shudder, not without a glance of longing'.
He was shattered by the betrayal of the Dwarves, not that he couldn't get the treasure home. The shipment of the treasure was just the specific tool used to convey this.
But what Tolkien shows is just the opposite - that the realisation that he can have no (or not much) treasure throws him so badly that he instantly seeks for someone to blame, and seizes on the idea (his own, quite unfounded idea) that the Dwarves must have meant to cheat him.
Even though he volunteers to go first into the danger for his comrades after they were trapped? Even though he follows them to Ravenhill?
What else could he do - sit in the tunnel for ever? Walk off into Wilderland by himself?
I grant you, he goes back after handing over the Arkenstone. But his impulse for handing over the Arkenstone is largely to justify to himself his stealing it from Thorin in the first place, and he can't feel justified if he hides from Thorin.
as if Lobelia S-B's taking a few silver spoons is somehow on par with stealing/illegally claiming an amount of gold so vast it could buy a kingdom that would make the Shire look like a shanty-town.
But I didn't say or even imply that, did I? I said that it is characteristic of Tolkien's hobbits to pilfer, and it is. It's not just the Sackville-Bagginses; in FotR, we learn that hobbits will not only crash a birthday party as a matter of course, they will also sneak out of the party and back in again to score a second birthday present. And that the residents of Hobbiton are quite prepared to turn up with barrows and handcarts to ransack the home of a friend and neighbour, and when prevented by his heir, resort to pocketing whatever portable items they can get away with. Others start digging holes in the house on the ground that legendary gold 'is anyone's for the finding', even if it belongs to their cousin. Even legitimate legatees squabble over what they have been given. And this popular thievery apparently is perfectly normal behaviour; Frodo is annoyed but nobody is in the least surprised. It seems that the only thing unusual about the Sackville-Bagginses is their ability to be jolly about their greed. Gandalf bears this out; when Frodo objects to the suggestion that Smeagol and Deagol were of hobbit-kind, he says
'I think it is a sad story, and it might have happened to others, even to some hobbits that I have known.' In other words, Gandalf doesn't consider instant greed for something shiny and precious, the murder of a friend for it, and the justifying of the murder by a specious quibble, in any way unhobbitlike.
We know also that several of Bilbo's neighbours found it quite reasonable to look him in the face and say 'You're officially dead, so I don't have to give you back your favourite chair unless you pay me a lot more than I bought it for'.
He shows no inclination of stealing the cup because if its worth.
Actually he does. Sure,
afterwards he thinks only of how impressed the dwarves will be. But Tolkien tells us that his thoughts and reactions
before stealing the cup were:
Bilbo had heard tell and sing of dragon-hoards before, but the splendour, the lust, the glory of such treasure had never yet come home to him. His heart was filled and pierced with enchantment and with the desire of dwarves; and he gazed motionless, almost forgetting the frightful guardian, at the gold beyond price and count. He gazed for what seemed an age, before, drawn almost against his will, he stole from the shadow of the doorway, across the floor to the nearest edge of the mounds of treasure. In other words, for the first time in his life he sees real treasure - and only minutes after having said huffily to himself
"I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures, and the whole lot could stay here for ever, if only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own front-hall at home!" he instantly wantss it, very much.
He was shattered by the betrayal of the Dwarves, not that he couldn't get the treasure home. The shipment of the treasure was just the specific tool used to convey this.
But what Tolkien shows is just the opposite - that the realisation that he can have no (or not much) treasure is such a blow that he instantly seeks for someone to blame, and seizes on the idea (his own, quite unfounded idea) that the Dwarves must have meant to cheat him.
However, he WAS due one-fourteenth share and technically his taking of the Arkenstone was not unjust.
Yes, it was. He knows he has no right to it;
he actually says so to Bard. The contract clearly stated that he was entitled to
"cash … up to and not exceeding one fourteenth of total profits (if any)". Thorin had verbally amended this from 'cash' by saying that he can choose his own fourteenth,
"as soon as we have anything to divide". But when Bilbo takes the stone there aren't yet any profits and they aren't yet in a position to divide anything, because the quest is not yet over. For all they know Smaug is still alive and will be able to chase them out again:in which case the total take will be only the Arkenstone and one gold cup. Also, for all he knows the Arkenstone may be worth more than one fourteenth of the total treasure; it's almost certainly worth more than one fourteenth of the profits, given that any part of it that came originally from Dale will obviously have to be subtracted, as will any reward paid to Bard as the dragon-slayer, anything originally coming from Lake-town that can be recognised descendants of the owners, et cetera.
And even if his legal quibble had been sound, it would still have been a morally compromising, indeed downright sh*tty act to take advantage of a generous promise to deprive Thorin of his most sacred heirloom, knowing full well that Thorin never would have made it if he had dreamt that Bilbo would take such mean advantage. It's on a par with someone saying to you 'What's mine is yours. Take anything you like!' and replying 'Thanks, I'll shag your wife then.'
Morally compromised is withholding gold from people who had already helped you themselves and who are dying or will die without it.
There are no such people. The wood-elves have already succoured the survivors with shelter, medical care and plenty of food and comforts. The book makes clear that Bard and Thranduil lead a party to loot the Mountain because they want to get to it before anyone else does, not because they think it will help sick people.
Thorin … has already decided before even the first parley to deny any gold to anyone, even those who helped him in his own need. He actually says several times that he will not pay.
No he hasn't, and no he doesn’t. He only ever says that he won't let anyone steal or coerce anything from him by force or threat of force, and later that he won't parley with Thranduil.
In no way does Roac refer to the Lake-men as an angry vindictive mob
True: Tolkien does that as narrator - Roac just heavily implies it. But the dwarves have seen the greedy, fickle, thoughtless Lake-man, and they're perfectly able to imagine how they are likely to behave when they want someone to blame for their misfortunes. (Which, by the way, they have no right to do. They haven't a shred of a legal claim against the dwarves for compensation.)
In no way does he say that the hosts are intending to attack the dwarves.
He doesn’t outright say it, but his whole speech implies it.
The carrion birds follow any armed host, guessing (since they are, you know, birds and stuff...and not too bright) by mere instinct that battle may occur any time an armed host is on the move.
Not true. In the book all the species of bird we meet - thrushes, crows, ravens, eagles - understand human and elvish speech, and many of them also speak it. (Thranduil only left Mirkwood in the first place because the birds came and told him of Smaug's death.) If the carrion birds are expecting battle and slaughter, it's because the talk in the host indicates that.
it's noted in the text that he didn't start to ponder his plan until Thorin became dangerous in his desire for the Arkenstone
Actually, what is specifically noted in the text is that the plan came into his head
'as the weariness of the days grew heavier' - of a piece with all the remarks about being
'sick of cram' and
'stairs and stone passages', and
'dreaming of eggs and bacon'. It is also made clear that Thorin intuited -
absolutely correctly - that one of his sworn and trusted companions has stolen his sacred heirloom; an appallingly painful and stressful conviction to have to bear.
We don't know what might have happened if Thorin didn't have the tragic fall of his character.
What we don't know is what would have happened if -
(a) Roac hadn't poisoned the dwarves' whole perception of the situation
(b) Bilbo hadn't stolen the Arkenstone and subjected Thorin to this stress
(c) Bard, backed up by Thranduil, hadn't chosen to approach Thorin with threats and insults rather than friendship and a plea for generosity.
Smaug already guessed Lake-Town was involved before Bilbo had even spoken to him
He knew that they had made the final approach to the Mountain from the lake, but had nothing to connect them directly to Lake-town. Only after Bilbo dropped his clanger did he say to himself 'I knew it!', as one does. In any case, Bilbo himself is convinced that it was his fault, and for him to let Thorin take the rap for it is dishonest and cowardly.
Even when Bilbo thinks it is his actions … that may cause the dragon to attack Lake-Town, none of the Dwarves seem terribly concerned
True (which may be because they know hardly anybody cares for the sufferings of dwarves, and they are far more aware than Bilbo is how little the Lake-men would care if they all got toasted).
...only the hero of the story, Bilbo, cared.
But not enough to confess, and avert the accusation from Thorin while Bard is berating him for it. Had he done so, the standoff might have been averted.
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broc_2000
8 years ago
Well, it's pointless to keep arguing. If someone keeps saying the sky is green and continues to do so after you bring them out from indoors and show them the blue sky, then it becomes a meaningless exercise to convince them.
You are fighting a battle that can't be won and making an argument that is unwinnable. The author, i.e., the creator of the characters you are arguing about(and hence knows whether they are the heroes or not),has made Bilbo the hero of the story (through countless methods and examples) and Thorin the tragic hero (through countless methods and examples) who most definitely is in the wrong once he re-enters Erebor. You are literally arguing against the author himself which is rather absurd and something you literally (pun intended)can't win. However, I understand that sometimes passion (for Dwarves) overrules rationality so my unwinnable scenario is trying to defeat that passion you have. I guess it is rather criminal to quell passion anyway. So keep stoking passion...even if misguided, the world is a lesser place without it.
Onward.
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