The Hobbit: Greed and The War For Erebor

In all classic stories of adventure, peril lurks in every damp cave and dark forest. Yet no spider or goblin could quite come close to the greatest danger explored in J. R. R Tolkein's The Hobbit: greed. Much of Tolkein's ethos is informed by his Catholicism, and so it is no surprise to see a text so metaphysically entwined with questions of sin and temptation. This children's tale contains countless wonders. Magic and kinship drive its characters towards heroism and valour. Yet, Tolkien’s overarching examination is how these virtues can become corrupted. If greed is left unchecked, it will gain control of one’s soul. This is true of even the most good-natured hobbit.

Bilbo Baggins: Aristocrat of the Shire

"Unexpected" would be an understatement in describing the circumstances of that particular hobbit, Mr Bilbo Baggins. Only the day before, he had been peacefully blowing smoke rings from his wooden pipe, and relaxing in the evergreen tranquillity of his garden at Bag End. Yet, he was now hosting dinner for a company of thirteen rowdy and obstinate dwarves; his pantry pillaged, his hospitality vexed. This is without mentioning Gandalf, the wizard who had thrust all this upon him. His dining room was now aglow with talk of adventure, a dragon, and gold… gold… gold…

'Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day,

To claim our long-forgotten gold.'

So the dwarves sang harmoniously. All of a sudden, Bilbo's sensibilities were overcome as “a fierce and jealous love” blossomed within him. Jealousy is seldom regarded as virtuous, yet it was this very jealousy which fueled Bilbo's greed. He desired "the heart of the dwarves." He, like the dragon they wished to subdue, was now thinking only of treasure.

Then a second desire stirred in his mind: "The sound of waterfalls and the sight of mountains." These are riches that cannot be hoarded like a dragon's plunder. Bilbo had already lived an aristocratic life but spiritual contentment had eluded him. He realised that what he lacked was not material poverty, but a poverty of wonder. The Shire was idyllic, yes, but it was not utopic. It was stuffy—respectability being the highest social good. Bilbo longed to get away and see life beyond the borders—Home was behind, and the world ahead. Yet the temptation of greed always lingered in his mind. He yearned for the opulence of Dwarvish gems and simultaneously the spiritual balm of the natural world. The question was: which would conquer his soul?

Smaug the Dragon: King Under the Mountain

After surviving several precarious predicaments, Bilbo and company arrived at the slopes of Erebor. It was a mighty and historic kingdom, once ruled by Thorin's grandfather, Thror, as ‘King Under the Mountain’. Now, however, there was a new king: Smaug the Dragon. In the Holy Bible (Revelations 12:3-4), it is explained that Satan took the form of a great red dragon, thus linking much of Western folklore, imbued with its Christian moral ethics, with our conception of dragons as beasts of sinful yet cunning natures. Tolkien's Catholic principles continued to uphold that traditional depiction. Smaug was prideful, covetous, and without mercy. His greed was a result of his pride. But what had it brought him but a friendless dominion? For all his wealth, he had no use for it beyond its superfluous appearance.

Smaug lay sleeping atop his treasure. Now, on behalf of Thorin's company, Bilbo silently descended into the beast's lair. With the aid of a useful, yet seemingly inconsequential, ring, the hobbit must have taken something from the dragon's hoard and returned it to his companions. In a scene reminiscent of the Anglo-Saxon tale Beowulf, Bilbo had delicately taken a jewelled cup. Once the halfling had deftly departed, Smaug awoke. 

Noticing that the cup was missing:

"[Smaug’s] rage passe[d] description—the sort of rage that is only seen when rich folk that have more than they can enjoy suddenly lose something that they have long had but have never before used or wanted." 

It is a vivid simile. What I believe Tolkien is appealing to here is the relative unimportance of the single cup, juxtaposed with the underlying threat of challenge. Smaug's might had always allowed him control but Bilbo had upset that equilibrium. That was the source of the rage. After Smaug's malevolent tantrum around the Lonely Mountain, he returned to his hoard, cunningly waiting for the thief to strike again.  

When Bilbo returned, Smaug confronted him, branding him a "thief." Irony abounds. In the ensuing conversation, Bilbo relentlessly flattered Smaug with such titles as, "chiefest and greatest of calamities." The Hobbit continually played up to the dragon’s pride—everything about Smaug was for display; everything about him was shallow. This is not a flaw in the writing; it is by design. It is the natural conclusion of such greed:

"My armour is like tenfold shields,

My claws spears, my teeth swords"

Smaug inquired about the stolen cup and asked if the Hobbit had received "a fair price" for it. Now the squabble in Bilbo's heart re-emerged. Nothing! He had received nothing! Bilbo suddenly realised that he had risked his life for them for nothing! Where was the gold he was promised!? Bilbo was "in grievous danger of coming under the dragon-spell." Greed wedged at his heart and tempted him to renounce his friends for the treasure. But plucking up courage, Bilbo conquered this temptation and replied: "Not gold alone brought us hither." 

Bilbo is saved from greed through fellowship; through brotherhood. Interpersonal friendships that could not be betrayed by the clink of a purse. His friendships, his love of his home: these are more valuable than the gold of the mountain. He owed his service and loyalty to something greater than himself. These loves are invaluable treasures in their own right, but Smaug had none of these riches in the arsenal of his wealth. So he lashed out in wrath and went to eviscerate the people of Lake Town; where he was eventually slain. Thorin Oakenshield was now 'King Under the Mountain’.

Thorin Oakenshield: The Embittered Avenger

A scion of the ancient Dwarven House of Durin, Thorin Oakenshield's struggle to reclaim his homeland is the sort of epic that follows a man robbed of his birthright. Back at Bilbo's abode, Gandalf had presented Thorin with both a map and a key to aid the company when infiltrating the mountain. From his grandfather Thror to his father Thrain, Thorin had become the leader of a generational struggle for vengeance against a foreign tyrant. His people had been displaced from their homeland: it was time they returned.

Against insurmountable odds, Erebor was reclaimed from the tyrant lizard. Alas, all was not settled. Smaug's wrath had reduced Laketown to cinders and the town's refugees now came to the mountain, seeking compensation for their plight. Bard, their emissary, beseeched Thorin: "They [The men of Lake-Town] aided you in your distress, and in recompense you thus far brought ruin only." Spectating, Bilbo was certain that "Thorin would at once admit" the justice in Bard's position. However:

"In the past days, Thorin had spent many days in the treasury, and the list of it was heavy on him."

Bearing similarities to the tale of Fáfnir from the medieval Norse Völsunga Saga, King Fáfnir's devotion to his vices for wealth had transformed him into a dragon that resided atop his plunder. This is the character arc that Thorin had travelled, though in this case spiritually rather than corporeally. Bilbo had slain his dragon of greed; Thorin surrendered to his. 

Thorin’s protest was not without reason. He even suggested that some form of reparations were possible, stating: "Lake-men we will fairly pay, in time." But he pointed to the armed host at his gates – made of men and elves – and rightly proclaimed extortion. Was it naked greed that compelled Thorin here? Thorin had led a nomadic people for decades. He had watched the suffering of his kin and had been their strength and hope in a dark chapter in their history. No aid came from the Elves or the Men, except by way of their own self-interest. Unlike Smaug, whose greed stemmed from pride, Thorin's came from a place of great resentment and bitterness towards those who had prolonged his people's suffering. Bilbo put it best: "The whole place stinks of dragon."

When the Battle of the Five Armies breaks out, the Elves, Dwarves, and Men put aside their grievances to face the existential threat of the goblin army. A faction of goblins cut down Thorin as he fought for his homeland, but evil was defeated. It was a bittersweet victory. In his final moments, Thorin reconciled with Bilbo over how he had behaved at the parlay. Instead of making a materialistic request, Thorin's last wish was not for gold or silver, but to "part in friendship from you [Bilbo]." On his deathbed, he imparted the following words: 

"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." 

With these dying words, Thorin cast aside his bitterness to finally see the same truth that had saved Bilbo from his greed. The antidote to greed was our obligations to things higher than ourselves: to community; to kin; to home. His resentment had clouded this wisdom, but Thorin had succeeded. The dwarves had a home again, where their halls may once again be filled with food and cheer. 

Dragons Are Real

The Hobbit is deeply instructive on the folly of greed. In our own time, England, like Erebor, has also become occupied by dragons. Our precious and irreplaceable way of life is being ground down by numerous Smaug’s; their breath fuelled by jealousy, pride, and resentment. Perhaps for that reason, it is well that St George is our champion. Yet if these dark forces of greed are to be driven away, it will not be with St George's lance, but with a Hobbit's courage. We must look to our home and to Truth plainly—England may be imperfect, but it is ours, and it is worth more than all the wealth of Erebor.