The Return of the King: Similes 9 key examples

The simile—“as if he were robed in a huge distorted shadow of himself”—conveys how the Ring inflates Sam’s sense of grandeur. He imagines himself cloaked in a warped version of his own likeness, larger than life yet ominous. This illusion makes him feel powerful precisely when he is weakest, illustrating the Ring’s insidious appeal.

The comparison also underscores the corrupting effect of such power. Sam does not see himself magnified in nobility but cloaked in distortion. The “shadow” is threatening rather than glorious, signaling that the Ring offers domination only by twisting what is good into something fearsome.

By casting the temptation in visual terms, Tolkien makes the psychological danger tangible. The simile suggests spectacle: Sam appears in his own imagination as a looming, terrifying presence over Mordor. The image captures how the Ring encourages its bearer to conflate strength with fear, luring them with a false vision of mastery.

This moment of simile enriches the scene by exposing the Ring’s dual nature—its intoxicating promise and its destructive distortion. For Sam, the illusion reveals not his true self but the shadow of what he could become under its influence. The device heightens the tension by showing how easily vulnerability can be twisted into the fantasy of power.

The simile—“like pieces on the board”—casts the soldiers of Mordor as pawns, without will or individuality, emphasizing that their existence serves only strategy. War is stripped of humanity and turned into a mechanical contest of moves and countermoves. The language suggests that Sauron sees himself as the master player, exercising total control, yet it also reveals his arrogance: he imagines no one can alter the game, blind to the small, unpredictable countermove already unfolding in the hobbits’ climb through Mordor.

By describing Sauron’s military strength in terms of a board game, Tolkien heightens the menace of his power while also hinting at its limitations. The metaphor drains his armies of vitality, contrasting them with the hobbits’ endurance, which is rooted in loyalty, memory, and life itself. Against the vision of lifeless pawns shuffled across a barren land, Sam and Frodo’s fragile but freely chosen perseverance stands out as truly heroic.

The simile—“like a shaft, clear and cold”—captures the abruptness of Sam’s realization. His renewed hope is not gentle or gradual but strikes him with the precision and intensity of a blade. The imagery of piercing suggests that this thought cuts through layers of exhaustion and despair to reach the core of his being.

The modifiers “clear and cold” enrich the comparison. Clarity conveys purity and certainty, while coldness implies distance and detachment, an unshakable truth untouched by corruption. This quality makes the hope not merely emotional but transcendent, grounded in something beyond Mordor’s reach.

The contrast between the Shadow and the star heightens the simile’s impact. The Shadow represents oppression and impermanence, while the shaft of light symbolizes endurance and beauty that evil cannot touch. By likening Sam’s thought to this piercing shaft, Tolkien emphasizes the difference between temporary darkness and eternal light.

The simile also reveals the power of small glimpses of beauty. Just as a single shaft of light dispels gloom, one star seen through Mordor’s haze restores Sam’s strength. The device makes tangible the way hope can strike suddenly and decisively, turning despair into resilience.

Through this simile, Tolkien shows that even in the most forsaken land, the enduring beauty of creation pierces the heart. The moment is both intimate and cosmic, reminding readers that evil is fleeting, while light and truth remain beyond its grasp.

The simile comparing Frodo to “a dead thing” underscores the near-total depletion of his strength. He is not merely exhausted but appears stripped of vitality, motionless and emptied of self. By likening him to something lifeless, Tolkien signals that Frodo has reached the threshold between endurance and collapse, where only willpower—and Sam’s support—can keep the quest alive.

The phrasing is deliberately stark: “a dead thing” reduces Frodo not just to death, but to an object. This loss of personhood reflects how the Ring and Mordor’s desolation have eroded his identity, leaving him an almost inhuman shell. The simile captures both physical collapse and spiritual depletion, as though Frodo has already given all he has to give.

The image also heightens suspense. At this critical stage of the quest, Frodo’s collapse threatens everything, raising the possibility that the mission could end not in battle, but in silence and failure on Mordor’s road. His fall magnifies Sam’s role: only Sam’s persistence and devotion can carry them forward when Frodo lies as lifeless as the dead.

By invoking the stark simile “like a dead thing,” Tolkien intensifies the scene’s emotional weight. Frodo’s suffering becomes tangible to the reader, the lifeless image driving home both the horror of his ordeal and the magnitude of Sam’s loyalty in the face of despair.

The simile’s first element—the ants “wander[ing] witless and purposeless” after their queen is slain—provides a vivid image of instinct disrupted. An ordered community instantly dissolves into chaos. By extending the likeness, Tolkien intensifies the parallel, showing how Sauron’s dominion was not strength freely given but a parasitic control that left his servants helpless without him.

The comparison shrinks the once-terrifying horde into something pathetic. Orcs, trolls, and enslaved beasts lose coherence, stumbling aimlessly, even turning on themselves in panic. Like ants scattered from their mound, they appear small, powerless, and absurd once stripped of the will that bound them together.

As a Homeric simile, the passage expands the scope of the battle’s conclusion. It does more than describe defeat: it interprets Sauron’s ruin as the unraveling of an unnatural order in nature itself. By invoking the image of an anthill undone, Tolkien situates the fall of Mordor within an epic frame, emphasizing inevitability. Just as ants without their queen cannot endure, so too Sauron’s creatures collapse without their master.

Through this elaborate comparison, Tolkien magnifies both the grandeur and the finality of the moment. The Homeric simile heightens pathos and spectacle, making the end of Mordor not only a military rout but also the collapse of a corrupted ecosystem, rendered in imagery as vast as the tradition it imitates.

The simile of Rauros as “like a star twinkling far off” elevates a physical landmark into something eternal and cosmic. The waterfall becomes a light of guidance, remote yet enduring, offering continuity at a moment when the old order is passing away. Tolkien thus invests a natural feature with qualities of permanence and transcendence.

By contrast, the River Anduin stretching “like a ribbon” conveys fragility and delicacy. A ribbon is easily broken, yet it also binds and connects. This image frames the river as a thread stitching together the diverse lands of Gondor, carrying both life and unity toward the wider world of the Sea. Where the star suggests constancy, the ribbon suggests bonds that require care.

Together, these paired similes fuse geography with symbols of light and fabric, permanence and delicacy. They suggest that Aragorn’s kingship is not simply martial or political but ecological and custodial: his role is to safeguard the fragile networks and enduring beauty woven into Middle-earth itself. The imagery transforms landscape description into a meditation on stewardship, foreshadowing the mortal responsibility that follows the passing of Elvish power.

This simile draws immediate contrast between Círdan’s outward age and his inner vitality. His long beard and weathered body suggest decline, yet his eyes, “keen as stars,” communicate clarity, endurance, and timeless perception. By comparing his gaze to starlight, Tolkien connects him to the cosmic order of Middle-earth: the stars, among the first creations in Arda, are symbols of Elvish heritage and enduring hope. Círdan thus embodies both the weight of long years and a vision that pierces beyond the present moment.

The description also heightens the poignancy of this farewell scene. Frodo and Sam’s parting at the Havens is filled with grief, yet Círdan’s presence reframes the sorrow. His starlike eyes suggest an eternal perspective, a reassurance that beyond loss, there is light and continuity. The imagery reinforces the paradox at the heart of the Grey Havens: an ending in Middle-earth, but also the promise of healing and rest across the sea.

By giving Círdan eyes “keen as stars,” Tolkien infuses the moment with both gravitas and consolation. The simile crystallizes the balance between sorrow and hope, making Círdan a figure who anchors the company’s grief in a larger vision of endurance and renewal.

The simile comparing Galadriel’s robes to “clouds about the Moon” situates her within an ethereal frame. Rather than obscuring her radiance, the “clouds” accentuate the brightness of the Moon, suggesting that Galadriel’s majesty is heightened, not diminished, by veils of mystery. The effect is one of quiet, luminous power, a beauty that is unearthly and enduring.

This imagery marks Galadriel as fundamentally distinct from mortals. She does not merely wear white; she seems to emit light herself, a detail that blends natural description with the aura of the supernatural. The Moon, often a symbol of purity, guidance, and reflection, reinforces her role as both leader and seer, a figure whose wisdom and beauty are tied to a cosmic order larger than Middle-earth’s transient struggles.

The second simile—Nenya’s stone “flickering like a frosty star”—extends this celestial comparison. By invoking a star, Tolkien suggests incorruptibility and permanence, qualities that define Galadriel as bearer of one of the Three Elven Rings. The description also ties her beauty and authority not just to the Moon, but to the heavens themselves, situating her firmly in the realm of the timeless and eternal.

Placed in the context of her departure, these similes elevate Galadriel’s farewell into something mythic. She is not merely leaving Middle-earth; she is ascending into the cosmic order, departing with the light of the Moon and stars. The effect is both beautiful and bittersweet: her celestial associations make her seem part of a world of light that is passing away, underscoring the novel’s elegiac tone at the end of the Third Age.

The simile “like bees” emphasizes the hobbits’ sudden burst of energy and coordination. Normally content with leisure, they are shown as capable of extraordinary industry when home and community are at stake. Just as bees labor tirelessly to preserve their hive, hobbits instinctively band together to restore their world.

The image gains depth through Tolkien’s description of the workers’ hands: the “nimble” fingers of the young alongside the worn, calloused hands of the old. This collective effort mirrors the unity of a hive, where every member—regardless of age—contributes to the common good. The simile elevates the work of rebuilding from a set of chores into a vision of shared purpose and harmony.

By casting hobbits as “like bees,” Tolkien also aligns their recovery with the rhythms of nature. The Shire’s restoration is not simply manual labor but part of a natural cycle, as if diligence and renewal are woven into the very fabric of hobbit life. The simile makes the recovery feel instinctive and inevitable, a return to balance after disruption.

This comparison strengthens the scene by giving the hobbits’ work symbolic weight. It is not just reconstruction, but a communal affirmation of resilience. Like bees restoring a hive after damage, the hobbits restore not only their homes but their sense of identity, turning labor into a testament of endurance and unity.