Csavardi Samu személy
Nem csupán pénzt hozott A Gyűrűk Ura, hanem levelek sokaságát is műve rajongóitól. Jelentkezett többek közt egy valódi Sam Gamgee, aki ugyan nem olvasta A Gyűrűk Urát, de hallott róla, hogy a neve feltűnik a regényben. (A magyar változatban Csavardi Samu – a ford.) Tolkien mulatott a dolgon, elmagyarázta az illetőnek, honnan eredt a név ötlete, és dedikált példányt küldött Mr. Gamgeenek mindhárom könyvből. Később ezt mondta: „Sokáig rettegésben éltem, hogy érkezik egy levél S. Gollam aláírással. Azt nem intéztem volna el ilyen könnyedén.”
Humphrey Carpenter: J. R. R. Tolkien élete 89% Ember a mű mögött
`What a fix! ' said Sam. `That's the one place in all the lands we've ever heard of that we don't want to see any closer; and that's the one place we're trying to get to!
Book Four, Chapter 1 - The taming of Sméagol
Grey as a mouse,
Big as a house
Nose like a snake,
I make the earth shake,
As I tramp through the grass;
Trees crack as I pass.
With horns in my mouth
I walk in the South,
Flapping big ears.
Beyond count of years
I stump round and round,
Never lie on the ground,
Not even to die.
Oliphaunt am I,
Biggest of all,
Huge, old, and tall.
If ever you'd met me
You wouldn't forget me.
If you never do,
You won't think I'm true;
But old Oliphaunt am I,
And I never die.
Book Four, Chapter 3 - The Black Gate is closed
'Sméagol won't go, O no precious, not this time,' hissed Gollum. 'He's frightened, and he's very tired, and this hobbit's not nice, not nice at all. Sméagol won't grub for roots and carrotses and – taters. What's taters. precious, eh, what's taters?'
"Po – ta – toes,' said Sam. 'The Gaffer's delight, and rare good ballast for an empty belly. But you won't find any, so you needn't look. But be good Sméagol an fetch me the herbs, and I'll think better of you. What's more, if you turn over a new leaf, and keep it turned, I'll cook you some taters one of these days. I will: fried fish and chips served by S. Gamgee. You couldn't say no to that.'
'Yes, yes we could. Spoiling nice fish, scorching it. Give me fish now, and keep nassty chips!'
'Oh you're hopeless,' said Sam. 'Go to sleep!'
Book Four, Chapter 4 - Of herbs and stewed rabbit
'I think we are in for trouble anyhow,' said Frodo. 'I am afraid our journey is drawing to an end.'
'Maybe,' said Sam; 'but where there's life there's hope, as my gaffer used to say; and need of vittles, as he mostways used to add.
Book Four, Chapter 7 - Journey to the Cross-roads
There's a wicked feeling about this place.' He sniffed. 'And a smell, I fancy. Do you notice it? A queer kind of a smell, stuffy. I don't like it.'
'I don't like anything here at all.' said Frodo, 'step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid.'
'Yes, that's so,' said Sam. 'And we shouldn't be here at all, if we'd known more about it before we started. But I suppose it's often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that's not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn't. And if they had, we shouldn't know, because they'd been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same – like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren't always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of tale we've fallen into?
'I wonder,' said Frodo. 'But I don't know. And that's the way of a real tale. Take any one that you're fond of. You may know, or guess, what kind of tale it is, happy-ending or sad-ending, but the people in it don't know. And you don't want them to.'
Book Four, Chapter 8 - The Stairs of Cirith Ungol
Still, I wonder if we shall ever be put into songs or tales. We're in one, or course; but I mean: put into words, you know, told by the fireside, or read out of a great big book with red and black letters, years and years afterwards. And people will say: „Let's hear about Frodo and the Ring!” And they'll say: „Yes, that's one of my favorite stories. Frodo was very brave, wasn't he, dad?” "Yes, my boy, the famousest of the hobbits, and that's saying a lot."
'It's saying a lot too much,' said Frodo, and he laughed, a long clear laugh from his heart. Such a sound had not been heard in those places since Sauron came to Middle-earth. To Sam suddenly it seemed as if all the stones were listening and the tall rocks leaning over them. But Frodo did not heed them; he laughed again. 'Why, Sam,' he said, 'to hear you somehow makes me as merry as if the story was already written. But you've left out one of te chief characters: Samwise the Stouthearted. „I want to hear more about Sam, dad. Why didn't they put in more of his talk, dad? That's what I like, it makes me laugh. And Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam, would he, dad?” '
'Now, Mr. Frodo,' said Sam, 'you shouldn't make fun. I was serious.'
'So was I,' said Frodo, 'and so I am. We're going on a bit too fast. You and I, Sam, are still stuck in the worst places of the story, and it is all too likely that some will say at this point: „Shut the book now, dad; we don't want to read any more.” '
'Maybe,' said sam, 'but I wouldn't be one to say that. Things done and over and made into part of the great tales are different.
Book Four, Chapter 8 - The Stairs of Cirith Ungol
Susannah, aki olvasta Tolkient, arra gondolt: Ilyesmit láthatott Frodó és Samu, amikor elérték Mordor szívét. Ezek itt a Végzet Repedései.