This discussion is reminding me of a couple of literary moments of crisis. We realize only retrospectively that great things hinged upon what was decided then.
In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo freely offers Galadriel the Ring. But she refuses it and gives the phial to him. I didn't realize it when I first read the book, but in fact Galadriel just saved the world.
In the first paragraph of Hawthorne's "Young Goodman Brown," a newlywed wife pleads with her husband to spend the night with her because she's uneasy about his intention of a night away, in the forest. Brown might genuinely have thought that Faith had nothing to worry about, but even so the loving thing to do would have been to honor her request. Instead he puts her off with an insincere and patronizing remark and sticks to his plan. Everything that happens afterwards is the consequence of that moment. The crisis of the story has already occurred when the first paragraph is ended. But you don't realize that when you first read the story. Everything is lost. The moment of truth passed and nobody realized it. I've said before at Chrons on a Hawthorne thread that this is a really disturbing story. We all naturally like to think that, if we were put to some supreme test of love or courage, we'd give it our all and do the right thing. But the moment of truth might come and pass without our perceiving it at the time. Brrrrr.
