“What Do You Fear, Lady?” Éowyn Knows What She Fears as She Seeks For What She Desires.

The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 765-767

In my last piece on this blog I touched on the words of Éowyn that I want to think more about this week.

“What do you fear, lady?” Aragorn asks her. And Éowyn replies:

“A cage,” she said. “To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.”

It is worth remembering here that The Lord of the Rings was published in the early 1950s and largely written during the late 30s and the 1940s. In other words before the modern women’s movement of the 1960s and beyond. The ideal world of a certain form of conservatism is one in which women largely remain in the home caring for their men and their children. It is one in which my mother had to give up her nursing career in England when she married in 1953. The modern nursing profession in England was created by Florence Nightingale in the mid 19th century and modelled upon a monastic style vocation in which women would give their entire life to nursing without the distraction of home and family. I remember my mother saying when she was particularly cross with the behaviour of myself and my four younger brothers and sisters, “If it were not for you I would be a matron (the senior nurse in an English hospital and a very powerful figure) now!”

So it is worth noting these words that Éowyn speaks in that particular context, the context of Tolkien’s world before the 1960s. She wants to go with the soldiers into battle. She tires of her responsibility as keeper of the hearth for the men until they return. Aragorn speaks truly when he reminds her that a deed that no-one notices is no less noble than one that is seen and praised by all. But Éowyn is no less true when she makes this reply.

“All your words are to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.”

I do not want to think here about the question of whether the role of a women in either public affairs, (in Éowyn’s case, in the world of battle at a time of national crisis), or domestic affairs, (in Éowyn’s case, her responsibility to lead the women of her people as they watch over homes and families so that their men will have something to return to after battle is done), is more noble in one case than another. Clearly Aragorn is saying to her that her domestic role is just as honourable than any role that she might play in battle and in one sense that is true. The creation of an hospitable home is a wonderful thing as anyone who has experienced one will attest to and perhaps our deepest longing is to find rest within such a home after the trials of life. In Tolkien’s legendarium we might think of Rivendell as such a place, The Last Homely House, as Tolkien named it in The Hobbit. As Sam puts it when he and Frodo return there after their adventures for a brief stay, “We’ve been far and seen a deal, and yet I don’t think we’ve seen a better place than this.” (The Return of the King p. 964) There is a constant dialogue within The Lord of the Rings between deeds done beyond the domestic sphere and the places of shelter and hospitality within the story. Perhaps one comment that I might add is that the great places of hospitality are the shared responsibility of both women and men, of Arwen and Elrond, of Goldberry and Tom Bombadil, and at the end of the story of both Rosie Cotton and Sam Gamgee. And in the great battle of the Pelennor Fields great deeds are done, both by men and women, as we shall see.

But although Éowyn speaks bitterly about her feeling of being caged within one set of expectations and denied access to another, the most important thing she speaks of here is her own desire. And at this point in her story what she knows of herself is her fear. Her fear of living a caged life, and especially her fear of living within a degraded cage, “a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among their dogs”. (The Fellowship of the King p. 849)

Éowyn knows what she fears. She also thinks that she knows what might free her from those fears as we shall consider in the next piece, but I would say that at this point she does not know what she truly wants, what she desires more deeply than anything else. But then for each one of us that is one of the hardest journeys of all. The journey into our hearts in order to discover what we truly desire.

“May I Not Now Spend My Life as I Will?” The Lady Éowyn Longs to Break Free From Her Cage.

The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 765-767

The journey that Aragorn takes with his friends and with the Dúnedain takes him from Edoras to Dunharrow where the Lady Éowyn greets them. She has taken the women and children of Edoras to the comparative safety of the stronghold high in the mountain valleys and there she has been fulfilling the task to which Théoden assigned her, to command the people in the absence of her uncle, the King, and her brother, Éomer.

Her first reaction on seeing the coming of the Dúnedain and the sons of Elrond is one of awe for never before in her life had she laid her eyes on “mightier men” than these. She wonders why they have arrived before the rest of the Rohirrim and when Aragorn tells her that he must depart after breaking his fast in the early morning she assumes that it was to see her that he has come in haste.

“It was kindly done, lord, to ride so many miles out of your way to bring tidings to Éowyn, and to speak with her in her exile.”

But it is not for this reason that Aragorn has come to Dunharrow although he courteously replies that such an errand would not be regarded as wasted by anyone. Aragorn has come to Dunharrow because the entrance to the Paths of the Dead lies close by.

Éowyn’s first reaction on hearing of Aragorn’s intent is one of horror. She has been raised on stories of the Paths of the Dead and of what lies beyond the door near Dunharrow that were intended to prevent any from attempting to pass them. She knows the story of Baldor, the son of Brego, the second king of Rohan, who stood at the feast that consecrated the Golden Hall of Meduseld and vowed that he would tread the Paths of the Dead; and she knows that Baldor never returned from that journey. All her people know the story and all hold the door that Baldor opened with dread.

But Éowyn has a desire that goes deeper than her fear of that path. She fears being left behind. And most of all she fears being left behind by a man who has captured her heart. For much of her life she has stood but a few feet away from the malicious whisperings of Wormtongue as he spoke them into Théoden’s ears and she had to watch her lord and her people as they declined into a pale shadow of what they had once been. I once wrote of how Théoden had to look upon the image of Eorl the Young, his mighty forefather and founder of the kingdom of Rohan, as he rode from the north to rescue Gondor at a time of need. We know that Théoden felt deep shame as he thought of the might of his ancestor and how at the moment of his death the thought uppermost in his mind was that because of the manner of his death in battle, doing what Eorl had done, riding to the aid of Gondor in their time of need, that he would be able to face him without shame. And Éowyn has looked upon Eorl herself and felt the same shame and she has felt the shame of her position, to be a servant to an old man, a decrepit king of a degraded people.

And now into her life has come this man. A son of kings surrounded by knights of whom she could only dream. Indeed she probably has dreamt of men like this, men so unlike those among whom she has grown up. Can we blame her for nursing a fantasy within her heart that this man might lift her high above all other women and might set her free.

“What do you fear, lady?” Aragorn asked her.

“A cage,” she said. “To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall and desire.”

Éowyn longs to break free from her cage, to spend her life, not as others command her, but as she will.

“May I not now spend my life as I will?”

We will be thinking about Éowyn and the story of her life over the next few pieces on this blog and we will think about Aragorn’s answer to her question in the next week, but perhaps we might want to begin with compassion. Compassion for the life that she has been forced to live behind the bars of her cage. And that is a good place to begin.

“To The Stone of Erech! I Seek The Paths of The Dead. Come With Me Who Will.” Aragorn Acts Swiftly as Time Runs Out.

The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) 762-765

It is in the very nature of things of great importance that however long we spend in thinking about them or in making preparation for them there will always come a point when action has to be taken and that when that time comes it will feel as if there is not sufficient time to do what we need to do. Nor are there sufficient resources. As my friends in North America put it, we will always feel like we are a dollar short and a minute late.

As to the questions of time and resources Gimli puts it well. When Aragorn, the Heir of Isildur, succeeds in taking control of the Stone of Orthanc from Sauron’s control, he learns that a great peril is approaching Minas Tirith from the south. These are the Corsairs of Umbar, ancient enemies of Gondor who have allied themselves with Sauron to put a final end to their foes. Aragorn knows that if help does not come then Minas Tirith will fall in ten days time.

“Then lost it must be,” said Gimli. “For what help is there to send thither, and how could it come in time?”

There is no help and there is no time.

But messages have come to Aragorn from Elrond and now he knows that perhaps there is help and there is time. But the way is dark and full of doubt. Perhaps that too is the way with decisions that we must take that are of great importance. We can never be entirely sure that what we are doing is the right thing. For Aragorn the message bids him remember the words of the Seer, spoken long ago in the days of his ancestor, the last king of the northern kingdom who fell in battle against the Witch-king of Angmar.

From the North shall he come, need shall drive him:
he shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead.

But how can Aragorn know that he is the one of whom the Seer spoke long ago. Have there not been many times since those days in which there has been great need? The answer is that Aragorn cannot be certain, not completely certain. It may be that this is not the final climax even though everything seems to point to the fact that it is.

And what of the help?

Aragorn tells the story of a people who lived long before the days of Malbeth the Seer, a people who lived in the mountains that divide Rohan and Gondor. He tells of how in the days of the Last Alliance when Elves and Men fought together against Sauron Isildur called upon this people to fulfil their oaths to serve him and his heirs in time of need, but how they refused to come because they had once worshipped Sauron and they feared him. And Aragorn spoke of how Isildur had cursed them, telling them that they would “rest never until your oath is fulfilled.” And how they lived still as unquiet spirits, the “Sleepless Dead”, around the hill of Erech in Gondor, waiting until they might receive the call from the Heir of Isildur to fulfil their oath to him.

“I hope that the forgotten people will not have forgotten how to fight,” said Gimli; “for otherwise I see not why we should trouble them.”

They cannot know whether the help of the oath-breakers will be enough. They cannot know if they will obey the Heir of Isildur even though his need is great, and even if they go with him to face the threat from the south, whether their help will mean anything. All they can do is to take the Paths of the Dead, to go to the Stone of Erech, to call the Dead to fulfil their oaths to Isildur and his heirs, and then to go with them into battle. It is only then that they will find out what power the oath-breakers possess. It is only then that they will know that they have the resources needed to do what is required.

A dollar short and a minute late. That is how it always is with the big things; with those decisions that truly shape our lives. We must take action, and only then will we learn whether we are too late and do not have enough. Or perhaps, that we arrived in time and have enough to do what we need to do.

“I Have Looked in The Stone of Orthanc, My Friends.” Why Does Aragorn Choose This Moment to Reveal Himself to Sauron.

The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 761-765

in the last post on this blog we saw how Aragorn emerged from the disguise of Strider the Ranger that he has kept for many years to become Elessar the King. And when we heard him declare to Gimli, “You forget to whom you speak”, we felt the shock that his friends felt, friends who had become used to the disguise even though they knew deep in their hearts that he was more than the disguise. Perhaps it is worth reminding ourselves that when Pippin approached the throne room of Gondor with Gandalf in order to meet with Denethor that Pippin had to be warned not to speak about Aragorn to which Pippin replied, “What’s wrong with Strider?”. The disguise has been effective enough for Pippin to share in the surprise that Gimli and Legolas felt when Aragorn addressed them as the king.

But why has Aragorn chosen this moment to reveal himself to Sauron as king? Why has he done so even though Gandalf warned him not to be too hasty in using the Stone of Orthanc even though he is its rightful master?

I am going to offer my own understanding of this and would be delighted to read your thoughts about this in the comments section. I want to take you back a few pages from the passage that we are considering here because I think that in them we will find something that brings Aragorn out from his long crafted disguise. We read how the Dúnedain of the North overtook Théoden and his party as they rode from Isengard across Rohan to the fortress at Helm’s Deep, and how they brought messages from Rivendell to give to Aragorn, their captain. One message that we will think more about was from Elrond.

“The days now are short. If thou art in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead.”

And the other message, the message that I think brings Aragorn out from his disguise, comes from Arwen. It begins with a question that Aragorn asks of Halbarad.

“What is that you bear, kinsman?”

For Halbarad bears a “tall staff, as it were a standard, but it was close-furled in a black cloth bound about with many thongs.” And Halbarad answers his kinsman.

“It is a gift that I bring you from the Lady of Rivendell… She wrought it in secret, and long was the making. But she also sends word to you: The days now are short. Either our hope cometh, or all hopes end. Therefore I send thee what I have made for thee. Fare well, Elfstone.”

Note the way in which Arwen divides the word, farewell. Halbarad has done his duty as her messenger well in conveying her meaning exactly as she intended it. I cannot help but feel that she made it clear that he was to say, Fare Well. And think back to the moment in Lothlórien when Frodo heard Aragorn say to himself, Arwen, vanimelda, namarië.

Namarië. The word in the High-Elven tongue that means farewell. Here the word is not divided. Aragorn in Lothlórien has lost all hope after the fall of Gandalf in Moria. Here he is indeed bidding his beloved, his vanimelda, a last adieu “unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we must still tread, you and I.” (The Fellowship of the Ring pp. 341-343)

But not so Arwen. In secret and alone she has woven a banner for the man that she has chosen against the wishes of the father that she loves. She knows the words of her father: “She shall not be the bride of any Man less than the King of both Gondor and Arnor” (The Return of the King p. 1036). And so she has made for Aragorn the standard of the King.

“Fare well, Elfstone.”

Arwen knew of the stone, the Elessar, that Galadriel kept secretly in Lothlórien and together with Galadriel she held the secret of her hope that she would be united with Aragorn. It was the stone that Idril of Gondolin gave to Eärendil before he made his great journey into the west on behalf of the beleaguered peoples of Middle-earth who had fallen under the yoke of Morgoth. Eärendil was Arwen’s grandfather, the father of Elrond her father, and Elros, the distant ancestor of Aragorn. Eärendil was the keeper of the stone of hope and in Lothlórien Galadriel gives the same stone to Aragorn with the words, “In this hour take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the House of Elendil.” (Fellowship pp. 364-367).

Galadriel may have given the name to Aragorn in Lothlórien but now it is clear that she shared this secret together with Arwen, that together they have given the name that was once given to Eärendil by Idril of Gondolin. And in Arwen’s message to her Elfstone, her Elessar, come the words, fare well. Not a goodbye, an adieu, but a call to action, and an expression of her hope that in all that he does Aragorn will indeed fare well, go well, do well. And it is as the Elessar, the heir of Isildur, Elendil and Eärendil, that Aragorn receives her gift, her standard, and so declares himself to Sauron, wresting control of the Stone of Orthanc from his grasp.