When Bilbo first finds the Ring, he keeps it a secret from his friends. Gandalf’s perceptive eye notes that Bilbo is hiding something, but the dwarves are as oblivious as ever. Bilbo withholds this detail from his recap of his encounter with Gollum, chuckling as he gives a somewhat believable lie—to a noisy folk like the dwarves, it no doubt seems believable—that he “just crept along, you know—very carefully and quietly.”
His only other thought about the matter is “not just now,” as though he would tell them about it when the time was right. Like so much in The Hobbit, we can read into the behaviour based on what we know from Lord of the Rings about this specific ring.
Yet Bilbo’s reaction when he finally does tell them of the Ring reveals, I think, a very human motivation behind his silence, something much more mundane yet more damaging than the sinister nature of the Ring itself.
Bilbo, we find out during their encounter with the spiders of Mirkwood, fears that knowing the truth would lessen the dwarves’ opinion of him. When he first reappeared with the Ring following the Gollum encounter, their opinion of him rose “a very great deal.” If they actually knew (such was his fear) how he’d escaped Gollum, they’d dismiss him as lucky and nothing more.
But a curious thing happens when he finally shares the truth with them: instead of losing their respect, they actually recognise that he has some very useful traits (luck, wits, and a bit of magic now). In other words, Bilbo’s fears, which cause him to lie, prove groundless.
I think this is so true of we humans. We all have these little—or great—fears of what others will think about us if only they knew the truth. Often, it is some perceived weakness that we want to hide. These things make us feel vulnerable. But I cannot count the times I have opened up and been honest about what I’m dealing with only to find that others respect me more rather than less.
Our fears keep us from true relationships, instead building rickety bridges of half-truths and lies. But when people actually know us, they almost always think more rather than less of us.
I can’t believe he’s dealing with all of that! It’s inspiring to know that someone can be dealing with that and still succeed, they actually think, rather than something less flattering.
Or, perhaps, Now I understand what he’s actually dealing with, I will extend him some grace. Rather than, What a wastrel (to use a good old-fashioned word).
Bilbo learns a valuable lesson that we all could: Knowing the truth usually does not lead to a lesser opinion, not unless one is actually guilty of some crime. But we are not usually hiding things like that from fear of embarrassment. It is our weaknesses—usually perceived rather than actual—that we hide.
Perhaps we should bite the bullet, like Bilbo, and be a little more honest with those closer to us, let ourselves be vulnerable and trust in our friends to accept the truth.
Something Tookish 
Leave a comment