Gollum. Smeagol.

The wretched, slimy creature eternally linked to the phrase "My

Precious!" is often cast as the pathetic antagonist of Tolkien's epic, a shadow of his
former self consumed by the insidious power of the One Ring. But what if there's more
to Gollum than meets the eye? What if, hidden beneath the unhinged mutterings and
insatiable greed, lay a tragic mastermind, ruthlessly dedicated to the only thing he had
left – his sanity, or what remained of it.

Let us examine the facts. The One Ring, forged in the fires of Mount Doom, is not a
mere trinket. It is an extension of Sauron himself, a malevolent force designed to twist
and corrupt its bearer, whispering promises of power while eroding the soul. Frodo,
burdened with the Ring's weight, succumbs to its seductive call time and again, despite
his good intentions and the support of his loyal fellowship. He nearly strangles Samwise
Gamgee, turns on Faramir's rangers, and ultimately, collapses at the very brink of the
Cracks of Doom, unwilling to cast it away.

Yet Gollum? Gollum bore the Ring for centuries, an existence stretched far beyond his
natural hobbit lifespan. He survived in the darkest, most treacherous depths of Middle-
earth, where sanity is an expendable luxury. Yes, his mind fractured under the Ring's
constant onslaught, but consider the alternative. Would utter absorption into the Ring's
evil will have been any better? Gollum's persistent duality, the constant bickering debate
between the remnants of innocent Sméagol and the vicious, Ring-crazed Gollum, was a
testament to his stubborn refusal to submit completely.

Picture a man alone on an island, his only companion a venomous snake whispering
promises and threats. Most would surrender to the poison, either by choice or by the
inevitable, lethal bite. But what if, through some twisted self-preservation, instead of
battling the snake outright, the man learned to talk back to it, to argue with it, to maintain
the illusion of a separate self? Wouldn't that, in its own horrific way, be a triumph?

This is Gollum's struggle. His constant dialogue with the Ring is not madness; it is
resistance. It's his mind's desperate attempt to retain some shred of individuality, of
choice, in a situation where there seems to be none. His obsession with fish, his
loathing of sunlight, these aren't just the whims of a deranged creature; they are survival
mechanisms in a world where all else is poisonous. Gollum learned to thrive where
others would have withered.

Now, let's not mistake Gollum for a hero. He is a tragic figure, a cautionary tale. His love
for the "Precious" is undeniably unhealthy, a warped reflection of the Ring's own
possessive nature. His actions, driven by the Ring's cruel manipulations, lead to
betrayal and violence. Yet, within this broken mess lurks a perverse resilience that
commands a grudging sort of admiration.

The journey to Mount Doom is arduous, to say the least. Would Frodo, pure of heart
and noble as he might be, have survived the horrors of Shelob's Lair or the desolation of
Mordor on his own? Highly unlikely. Frodo might be the protagonist, but let's not forget
the unsung antihero in the shadows. Gollum, with his single-minded focus and ability to
endure where others would crumble, becomes a twistedly essential guide. His survival
instincts, however monstrously honed, outstrip even the hobbit's legendary hardiness.
He serves as a foil to the heroes – a dark reflection of where they might end up should
they fall to the Ring's power.