DAYWALKING

T, 4/14/2026, 11:53

In the Valaquenta, it is written, “Wisest of the Maiar was Olórin [Gandalf]. He too dwelt in Lórien, but his ways took him often to the house of Nienna, and of her he learned pity and patience” (Tolkien 30-31).

Early in The Fellowship of the Ring, a dialogue on the past reveals contrasting opinions about what Gollum deserves:

FRODO: What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance!

GANDALF: Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. (Tolkien 58)

As credits roll on Jackson’s The Two Towers (2002), Emilíana Torrini sings “Gollum’s Song”:

Where once was light
Now darkness falls
Where once was love
Love is no more
Don’t say goodbye
Don’t say I didn’t try

These tears we cry
Are falling rain
For all the lies you told us
The hurt, the blame!
And we will weep to be so alone
We are lost
We can never go home

So in the end
I’ll be what I will be
No loyal friend
Was ever there for me

Now we say goodbye
We say you didn’t try

These tears you cry
Have come too late
Take back the lies
The hurt, the blame!

And you will weep
When you face the end alone
You are lost
You can never go home
You are lost
You can never go home

Source: Tolkien Gateway

Shore’s cavernous composition and Torrini’s haunting harmony drive the lyrics to their intended destination: Nienna’s heart of pity, and the listener’s. We weep with Gollum, strangely, though he be half-treacherous.

From whence does pity arise? From familiarity with evil’s wounding way. It cuts past the skin of mortal man. It scars the surface of the world.

Gollum was a halfling once, like Frodo and Sam. His grandmother taught him to suck eggs. He killed Déagol for a golden ring. He used it to spy, discover secrets, and steal. It turned him against his peers and family, and they put him out of home and hole.

In exile, he ate fish and lost his teeth. The sun tore at his flesh. He lived longer than nature would have allowed. His maiden murder led to more, as he took Goblins who tarried too far from their subterranean town.

Madness overcame him. He dropped the Ring, and Bilbo found it. (You know the rest.) Years later, he recovered the Ring, and in his ecstasy, destroyed himself and it.

What if Sméagol had a friend like Samwise? What if someone had been there to love him out of his addiction to the precious ornament? Instead, the people meant to protect and provide for him cast him away. Was it right? I am not wise enough to say. If Gandalf were here, I’d ask him.

The fate of Middle-earth is not on Frodo’s shoulders, but his guide’s. Without Gollum, Frodo and Sam never make it to the Black Gate, never pass through Cirith Ungol. He was the most consequential of the Ring-bearers, holding it for almost five hundred years and being the last to hold it before its unmaking.

Nothing new here. These points have already been made, I am sure. So what? This author wonders, feels, and is moved by a story from his youth. In high school, he read The Lord of the Rings. It was the only book he brought with him to China after his undergraduate studies. He carried those lessons and readings to New York, where a class with Haruko Momma on Old English and Tolkien’s origins inspired a paper on The Advent Lyrics—this means nothing to anyone but him. His private world. Journey alongside, if you wish. As you wish. We all need loyal friends.

Works Cited

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. Edited by Christopher Tolkien, 2nd ed., Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2001.

Tolkien, J.R.R. The Lord of the Rings. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2002.