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“We Will Burn Like Heathen Kings Before Ever a Ship Sailed Hither From The West.” The Despair of Denethor and the Faithfulness of Faramir.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 806-807

As the Morgul host draws nearer to the defences of Minas Tirith and the siege engines draw ever closer to its walls we find two distinctly contrasting stories taking place. For as Gandalf and the Prince of Dol Amroth stride about the walls lifting the hearts of its defenders for a time at least, so we find the Steward of Gondor withdrawing to a private chamber in preparation for his suicide and for the ritual killing of his son.

Some of his men plead with Denethor to give guidance to the defence of the city, telling him that not all will follow Gandalf who they do not know, but need the Lord of the City to lead and direct them. We are reminded of the defenders of Helm’s Deep when Éomer rides up to them in order to announce that their king has come to aid them.

“That is good tidings beyond hope,” declares the sentinel. It is only when the one recognised as the true king (and Denethor is a king even though he does not bear the title) comes that his people find strength once again. So we are reminded once more of the words of the 16th century Anglican divine, Richard Hooker, “How are the people to know they are faithful unless their captains tell them?”

Denethor has nothing to say to his people anymore except for the word that he has for himself.

Burn.

“Better to burn sooner than late, for burn we must.”

Denethor has given in to despair. “We will burn like heathen kings before ever a ship sailed hither from the West. The West has failed. Go back and burn!”

And so the work of Sauron is complete in the Steward of Gondor, the work that Sauron has been doing through the Palantir, the Stone of Osgiliath. Sauron is the serpent, the accuser of the brethren, whose work is to lead us to despair through his whispering in the ears of those who have sought to stand against him. Saruman was lured into his snare at first through his study of the Rings of Power and so came to believe that it would only be through the achievement of power, of total power, that victory could be won. So, through the Palantir, the Stone of Orthanc, Sauron displayed his power to Saruman and so convinced him that his victory was inevitable. Saruman came to believe that only by becoming an ally to that power could he survive, and just possibly become the lord of the West himself, if only he were to gain the power of the Ring himself. And Denethor, through the Stone of Osgiliath, saw also the overwhelming power of his enemy and the inevitable victory of darkness. Denethor too saw hope only through the possession of power, through possession of the Ring, and in his loss of that possibility and the loss of the son who he had loved lost all hope.

We might want to be reminded here that Denethor’s words about the failure of the West have also been spoken by Faramir in his meeting with Frodo. “For the Enemy increases and we decrease. We are a failing people, a springless autumn.”

A failing people. A springless autumn.

Faramir can see all that his father can. The growing strength of his enemy and the decline of his own people, but he does not give way to despair. He does not give way to despair because he has a faith that goes deeper than a belief in power. He makes it clear to Frodo that he has no desire to possess power if that were to mean the power of darkness, that if he were to find the weapon of the Enemy, the Ring, lying by the roadside, that he would not wish to make it his own, not even for the good of Gondor or for his personal glory. Faramir’s longing is for goodness, for beauty and for truth, and so his roots go deeper by far than they do for Saruman or for Denethor. It is his sadness that this longing only wins for him the scorn of his father, the accusation that he is a “wizard’s pupil” and that he only wishes to appear lordly, that his longing is merely performance; but his roots go deeper even than a natural longing for his father’s approval.

That Faramir’s kingly nature is both recognised and loved by the people of Gondor surely tells us that in all of us, if we think of ourselves as being the ordinary folk as are those people, is a desire for the same goodness, beauty and truth as Faramir has. Faramir does not need to make speeches in order to tell his people that they are faithful. He only needs to live out that faithfulness himself.

“Nay, Nay, Whatever May Now Betide in War, My Line Too is Ending, Even The House of The Stewards Has Failed.” Some Thoughts on Hope and Expectation in The Lord of the Rings.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 799-806

I am grateful to one of my regular correspondents, Kate Splieth, for thoughts that have led to this reflection as we continue to think about the siege of Minas Tirith before the arrival of the Riders of Rohan, one of the darkest moments in The Lord of the Rings. In a comment on my last reflection upon eucatastrophe, she writes this,
“Is there a difference between hope and expectation?”

It is in the tragic character of Denethor that we see that difference most clearly expressed. From the moment that Denethor first receives the sign that his son, Boromir, has been killed, he begins his fall into despair. When Gandalf and Pippin first meet him, seated upon the Steward’s chair in the throne room of Gondor, they see this sign in his hand. He holds aloft the horn of Boromir that was cloven in two as he made the brave defence of Merry and Pippin at Parth Galen that led to his death.

From that time onwards Denethor’s spirit is broken even though he continues to direct the defence of the city against the Morgul host. But at the last the Prince of Dol Amroth carries the body of Faramir from the failed defence of the fords of Osgiliath to his father, and whatever strength Denethor had to continue resistance is lost.

“I sent my son forth, unthanked, unblessed, out into needless peril, and here he lies with poison in his veins. Nay, nay, whatever may now betide in war, my line is ending, even the House of Stewards has failed. Mean folk shall rule the last remnant of the Kings of Men, lurking in the hills until all are hounded out.”

We may note here that Denethor has reduced the story of his people to the story of his family, of his line. He is convinced, wrongly as we shall see, that Faramir is dying, and unlike Sam Gamgee, kneeling beside what he believed to be the corpse of Frodo in Shelob’s Lair, Denethor sees no reason to carry on, “whatever now may betide in war.” To him there is no future, even if victory should ultimately be achieved over the forces of Mordor. His line is ending, just as the line of the Kings of Gondor failed.

Here we see the difference between hope and expectation, or at least expectation as it has become. In the Latin text of the Nicene Creed we read et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum, and I await the resurrection of the dead. The word, exspecto, that has become expect in modern English is associated with specto, to look out for, to wait for, to hope for. This kind of expectation is to Denethor, a fool’s hope, and when men call for guidance from their lord, Denethor answers, “Follow whom you will, even the Grey Fool, though his hope has failed.”

Denethor has given in to despair which is the ultimate consequence of his expectation. All his gathering of intelligence has convinced him of the overwhelming power of his enemy and the utter inadequacy of his own resources. His one hope, if we can call it that, was to gain control of the Ring of Power and so have a weapon that he could use of sufficient power to stand against that enemy. In this manner he resembles Saruman who also hoped to gain control of the Ring, although unlike Saruman, Denethor never considered the possibility of becoming an ally of Sauron. Saruman’s intention was to ally himself to Sauron while seeking either to gain control of the Ring or to create his own ring of power. Denethor was never a traitor unlike Saruman.

But neither Denethor, nor Saruman, had hope. Both gave way to despair. Saruman did so cynically, choosing to ally himself with darkness believing that darkness would have the last word in everything. Denethor also came to believe in the final victory of darkness but refused to ally himself with that darkness. In that sense there is still a heroism in Denethor, a heroism that he shows in the breastplate that he wears under his robes.

And what of hope? Gandalf chooses hope, the decision to believe that at the end the good, the true and the beautiful will prevail even though all that can be seen is darkness and the power of evil. In the Council of Elrond the choice was made to send the Ring to the Fire, not because it was felt to be a good idea but because it was the right thing to do, the only thing that could be done without giving way to the ultimate power of all the Ring represented which is the power of power itself.

“Though the Darkness Had Reached Its Full and Grew No Deeper, It Weighed Heavier on Men’s Hearts, And a Great Dread Was On Them.” Tolkien Describes The Darkest Moments of The Siege of Minas Tirith.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 799-803

There are many dark moments in The Lord of the Rings, and I do not wish to take part in one of those polls that seem to be popular in social media. You know the kind that I mean; what are the ten darkest moments in this story? Is it Sam Gamgee kneeling beside the body of Frodo after his friend has received what seems to be a deadly sting from Shelob, or is it this moment when it seems that Minas Tirith will fall to the assault of the Morgul Host under their deadly captain, the Witch-King of Angmar? I do not wish to compare them. At the very least it would be a terrible slight upon the anguish that Sam feels as he looks upon Frodo and feels that the whole world has come to an end. But although Gandalf has been right to call Denethor to think of more than Gondor, Denethor has also been right to say that if Gondor falls the fall of the rest of Middle-earth will inevitably follow.

There is a word that serious readers of Tolkien’s work eventually come to know and that is the word, eucatastrophe. In his famous essay On Fairy Stories, Tolkien defined this word as “the sudden happy turn in a story which pierces you with a joy that brings tears (which I argue is the highest function of fairy-stories to produce)”. And so he thinks of the moment when the prince awakens the Sleeping Beauty from her hundred years sleep, or, in the Christian story, the moment of the incarnation, the birth of Christ in Bethlehem, the moment that is heralded in Isaiah 9.2 by the words, “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.” The essential contrast here is between darkness, the shadow of death and the great light that suddenly and entirely unexpectedly breaks in upon them in their utter hopelessness.

We will, of course, come back to the eucatastrophic moments in the telling of the story of the breaking of the siege of Minas Tirith later in this series of reflections, and we will see that not one of these moments is able to lift Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, from his deep despair. But what I wish to reflect upon here is that the essential feature of a true eucatastrophe is that it is entirely unlooked for. If we were to expect the “sudden happy turn” in our stories, then what such an expectation would create in us would be complacency. Unlike Pippin, who stands “alone and sleepless” on the walls of Minas Tirith looking eastward through the night we would sleep comfortably in our beds even through the greatest disaster. Don’t worry, we would say to one another, something will turn up, it always does.

And not all the sudden happy turns that have happened either in our own experience or in the telling of stories that we love the most are able to assure us that this time, in this present darkness, there will be an inbreaking of light. Like Pippin we wait, robbed of sleep, and asking, as we thought of a few weeks ago, “Is there any hope?”

And therein we see the action that we can take. There is the anxious waiting that Pippin shows us. There is the courageous if hopeless action of Faramir going out to the fords of Osgiliath even though he knows that he will not be able to hold them. Or there is the steady and indomitable spirit of Gandalf who remains in the darkest places so that those who are lost in them will not be utterly abandoned.

None of these actions can bring about the eucatastrophic events that will deliver Minas Tirith from the siege of the Morgul host, but without them, without the faithful perseverance that each of these actions represents, there can be no “joy that brings tears”, the tears that will later fall at the Field of Cormallen when Sam will cry out, “Is everything sad going to come untrue?”

“You Will Be Needed Here, For Other Things Than War.” Gandalf Speaks to Faramir of a Bigger Story Than The War of the Ring.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 797-799

On the day that follows the counsel that took place in Denethor’s chambers, a counsel that included Denethor himself, Gandalf and Faramir, and which was observed by Pippin, the Lord of the City meets with his captains to discuss the defences of the city. Denethor is in a dark mood, perhaps one created by the debate of the previous day when he had clashed with Gandalf and in which Faramir had seemed to side with the wizard against his father, and so he asks that one of his captains should go out to the outer defences near Osgiliath in order to re-enforce them.

The silence with which this request is received by the captains shows what they think of what Denethor has asked. Already Faramir has argued that to attempt to hold the outer defences would be unwise:

“Today we may make the Enemy pay ten times our loss at the passage and yet rue the exchange. For he can afford to lose a host than we to lose a company. And the retreat of those that we put our far afield will be perilous, if he wins across in force.”

All these are wise words, and none of the other captains argue against them or support what Denethor has asked for, but Denethor has used words that make it clear that he does not intend to be contradicted.

“It is at Osgiliath that he will put his weight, as before when Boromir denied him the passage.”

Boromir has become a sacred totem, a fallen hero, a martyr in the cause, and when Denethor invokes his memory, remembering how he was the captain of the defenders of the crossing of the Anduin at Osgiliath, he expects that the invocation of the sacred memory should be honoured. And, of course, it is the brother of the sacred hero, Faramir, who responds.

“I do not oppose your will, sire. Since you are robbed of Boromir, I will go and do what I can in his stead- if you command it.”

This is a dark moment in the story and Gandalf correctly guesses the mood with which Faramir goes out on this hopeless mission.

“Do not throw your life away rashly, or in bitterness,” he says to Denethor’s son, for at this moment Faramir does not believe that his is a life worth very much. He is unloved by his father, of no worth compared to his Boromir’s, going out on a mission that has no chance of success, in which precious lives will be cast away.

But Gandalf has a bigger story in mind, even now, a story that transcends the story of the war, of the immediate requirements of the defence of the city. Gandalf is thinking of a world that will be beyond the war, a world in which Faramir will be needed for other things that soldiery.

“You will be needed here, for other things than war.”

We know already that Faramir believes this to be true because he said this to Frodo when they met in Ithilien. We remember how he told Frodo that “War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend”.

And it is what the men of Gondor defend that he will ultimately give his life to. For Faramir will not be a warrior forever but the Prince of Ithilien, the garden of Gondor in which he carried out his missions in the run up to the war. His task, alongside the bride that he will marry, will be the restoration of that land, which, although marred by the forces of Mordor, remained a place of beauty. Like Sam Gamgee in the Shire, his task as lord of that land will be to be its gardener. In other words, his role will be to restore the Garden of Eden as best he can, to make Ithilien a living witness to that land, just as Sam will do all he can to make the Shire the same in the north. Faramir may not receive a gift from the Lady of the Golden Wood to aid him in his task, but he will do the same work so that the peoples of Middle-earth will have places of beauty that will inspire them in their task of building their own lands. Indeed, Faramir will be needed for other things than war, things that will last.

“Yet My Heart Guessed That Frodo and Gollum Would Meet Before the End. For Good or For Evil.” Gandalf Speaks of the Weaving Together of Frodo and Gollum’s Fates.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 796-797

Those who have journeyed with Gandalf from the opening chapters of The Lord of the Rings know that this intuition, that the fates of Frodo, Bilbo, Gollum and the Ring are intimately woven together, has been with Gandalf at least since his conversation with Frodo in Bag End in the chapter entitled, The Shadow of the Past, if not before. It was in that chapter that we learnt of Gandalf’s suspicions regarding the nature of Bilbo’s ring and how those suspicions were confirmed when he cast the Ring into the fire and so was able to read the fateful words:

One Ring to rule them all, one Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

Gandalf told Frodo of how Gollum had come into possession of the Ring through the murder of his friend, Déagol, and how he had come to know of the name of Baggins simply because Bilbo had told him his name. I wonder if Tolkien had the story of Odysseus and Polyphemus in mind as he wrote this. If so did he contrast the hubris displayed by Odysseus when he boastfully declared his name as he escaped his captor with the simple honesty that Bilbo displays in telling his name to Gollum? We will return to this later.

But now we will return to Gandalf’s intuition that he speaks of to Pippin here, that “Frodo and Gollum would meet before the end. For good or for evil.” What Gandalf said to Frodo of his intuition was this:

“I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end; and when that time comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many- yours not least.”

This is one of the most quoted passages in the whole Lord of the Rings, and one that when cited often focusses upon the word, pity, and rightly so, because when Frodo finally meets Gollum he announces, as if to an unseen listener, that now he has seen Gollum he does pity him. The pity of Bilbo and then of Frodo does play a central role in the story and we will think about this on other occasions, but now I wish to think about the part that fate plays in the story, and then to think about the part it plays in all stories, not least our own.

It is easy, maybe too easy, to link the manner in which Gollum first obtained the Ring with his ultimate fate, to fall into the fires of Mount Doom still holding it. We might argue that Gollum deserved his fate, but then we have to ask in what way Frodo deserved his. For Frodo is wounded by the Morgul blade below Weathertop, stung by Shelob in her lair, has his finger bitten off from his hand just as Sauron lost a finger to the broken blade of Narsil when he lost the Ring to Isildur. And in all this we must think of the way he had to bear a burden whose malevolent power gradually overcame his brave heart until he had no freedom left to choose. Did Frodo deserve this as Gollum deserved his fate? I find it hard to argue that he did. Of course, Frodo had his weaknesses just as we all do, but he would not have suffered this fate if he had not made the heroic choice to bear the burden to Mount Doom, a choice that Elrond declared made him worthy, not to be punished, but to stand alongside the Elf-friends, such as Beren, who were his mighty ancestors.

Frodo’s fate must remain a mystery to us, and so too must Gollum’s. It is not for us to determine the ultimate fate of anyone. Gandalf himself declared to Frodo that “Many that die deserve death. And some that die deserve life.” Perhaps Tolkien was thinking of his closest friends who fell in the battles of the First World War and of his own survival in that conflict when he wrote this. Fate is not something that lies within our ability to understand. We only are given the task either to bear our fate bravely and to struggle to do the good we can within our fate or we can try to fight against it. There is heroic courage in the latter choice and like Odysseus we might be shaped for good in the struggle. He was a sadder and a wiser man than the one who boasted of his name before Polyphemus when he finally returned to Ithaca many years later.

“Is There Any Hope? For Frodo, I Mean; Or at Least Mostly for Frodo.” Pippin Wonders if There is Any Hope Remaining.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 796-797

After the counsel in the chamber of the Lord of the City all go to their rest and Gandalf and Pippin to the chamber that they share together. And there in the privacy of that room Pippin speaks at last, asking the question that is closest to his heart.

“Tell me,” he said, “is there any hope? For Frodo, I mean; or at least mostly for Frodo.”

Of course, when Pippin says “mostly for Frodo”, what he implies is an unspoken question.

Is there any hope for me? For any of us? And we do not blame him for this. We would all ask the same question. Pippin’s love for Frodo is not diminished in any way by his asking it.

And in his reply Gandalf acknowledges what we have been thinking about in the last few posts. He acknowledges that Denethor is right. He acknowledges that any hope that there has ever been that Frodo will succeed in his mission was foolish. But we will not go back to the alternative that Denethor says could and should have been done, that the Ring should have been brought to Minas Tirith by Faramir and that it should have been hidden there until “the uttermost end of need”. We have considered this and recognised that this too would have been foolish, even wicked, that if the Ring had come to Denethor it would have overthrown his considerable mind and almost certainly would not have prevented Sauron’s inevitable victory.

And so all the alternative there is is two forms of foolishness. So is there any hope?

Gandalf ponders Pippin’s question and, as he does so, he begins to find reasons to go on hoping, reasons that may be smaller than the biggest reason of all, that the Divine Power does not will that Frodo should fail, but big enough to give reason not to give in but to resist.

Sauron has launched his assault upon Minas Tirith before he is ready and while Frodo is still free. Now his attention will not be solely upon the borders of his own land, defending them against any attack, but upon Minas Tirith.

And Gandalf wonders why he is doing this now, and so he thinks back to the Stone of Orthanc that Pippin looked into and which he gave to Aragorn to keep.

“Ah! I wonder. Aragorn? His time draws near. And he is strong and stern underneath, Pippin; bold and determined, able to take his own counsel and dare great risks at need. That may be it. He may have used the Stone and shown himself to the Enemy, challenging him, for this very purpose.”

Indeed, we know that this is precisely what Aragorn has done, and why he has taken the Paths of the Dead, bringing with him the host of Oath Breakers to the port of Pelargir to relieve its defenders from the siege of the Corsairs of Umbar and to bring the fleet at anchor there up the Anduin to aid the defenders of Minas Tirith. This would indeed be a reason for hope but even if Aragorn were to succeed it would only bring a little hope, perhaps very little hope as Denethor will later assert.

And Pippin has one more question. Why have Frodo and Sam taken up with Gollum of all the creatures in the world, and why are they trying to enter Mordor by way of Cirith Ungol?

“And I could see that Faramir did not like the place he was taking them to any more than you do. What is wrong?”

And here at last Gandalf comes, in his response, closer to the greatest cause for hope of all. For even though he fears the way that Frodo and Sam have taken with their treacherous guide he must acknowledge that he does not know a better way. There is no better way. All ways into Mordor are defended and unassailable, or if they are less defended it would take so long to achieve as to render any success almost meaningless for there will be nothing to return to.

So, there is no hope except for the greatest hope of all, that a power greater than any upon Arda has willed that through the most unlikely of all means, by means of a treacherous guide, Frodo and Sam should achieve their task. But to desire this end is almost too much for anyone without falling into the most terrible pride or complacency. The best way remains to take one brave small step and then another.

“There are evil days ahead. To sleep while we may.”

“You Think, As is Your Wont, My Lord, of Gondor Only.” Gandalf Speaks of a Greater Vision, One That Denethor Does Not See.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 793-797

If Denethor had ever made an inaugural address on becoming the Steward of Gondor we could be fairly confident that at its heart would lie the idea, if not the words, Gondor First.

As Denethor and Gandalf debate together about what should have been done with the Ring of Power it becomes clear that Denethor believes that if Gondor were to fall, so too would the West. Indeed, in his mind, the West and Gondor are one thing. Gondor is the last outpost of Númenor, the “West-Land” that lay far to the geographical and spiritual west of Middle-earth, and from which Elendil and his followers first came and founded the kingdoms of Gondor and of Arnor. And so, to Denethor, if Gondor falls “the West is finished”.

To a man with such a vision there is only one thing that can be done with the Ring and that is to keep it and not to use it “unless at the uttermost end of need” when the victory of Mordor over Gondor becomes an inevitability.

Gandalf believes that even with the decision not to use the Ring except in such extreme circumstances the Ring would corrupt and finally overthrow the mind of Denethor, but there is a further point that he makes, one that offers an entirely different vision of reality to the one that Denethor holds.

“You think, as is your wont, my lord, of Gondor only,” said Gandalf. “Yet there are other men and other lives, and time still to be. And for me, I pity even his slaves.”

The word, his, refers of course to Sauron. The slaves of Sauron speak first of all of the people who live by the Sea of Núrnen in the southern and more habitable part of Mordor, and who grow the food that supplies the armies that Sauron stations in the northern parts of that land. Their master is the Gloom of Nurn, one of the Nazgûl who ruled them from his fortress of Thaurband. Tolkien speaks of the sad waters of the lake and so we can understand the life that these people must have led.

The first thing that is clear from what Gandalf says of the slaves of Sauron is that they are not enemies but prisoners to be liberated. And indeed, Aragorn did liberate them after the fall of Sauron and the land about the Sea of Núrnen was given to them as their own possession. But there is a further thing that Gandalf wants to make clear to Denethor, and that is that if his care extends as far as Sauron’s slaves then it extends to all peoples, to Elves and Men, to Dwarves and to Hobbits. For Gandalf there is no hierarchy of peoples and there is certainly no such thing as Gondor First! Yes, Gondor deserves honour because it holds within its memory all that was best about Númenor, the memory that Elendil brought with him to Middle-earth. And it deserves honour because, as Beregond put to Pippin, “we have this honour: ever we bear the brunt of the chief hatred of the Dark Lord, for that hatred comes out of the depths of time and over the deeps of the Sea”. But this honour is shared with all the foes of Sauron and all the peoples of Middle-earth are the creatures of Ilúvatar and are loved by him. As Gandalf says to Denethor, although the Steward of Gondor may believe that he only has one task and that is the welfare of his people, for Gandalf that concept of stewardship is too narrow. Gandalf is a steward of all the peoples of Middle-earth, indeed of all its creatures.

This does not mean that Gandalf has authority over Denethor even as he does not have authority over Aragorn, or Elrond, or Galadriel, or Théoden, or over Frodo for that matter. Gandalf as steward is the servant of all and not the master. His desire is for the welfare of all and so he knows that in many ways he will come into conflict with Denethor, for their interests are not the same.

“If You Had Received This Thing, It Would Have Overthrown You.” Because Denethor Desires the Victory of Gondor Above Everything He Has Not the Strength to Resist the Ring.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 793-796

In the last piece on this blog I thought about how Faramir refused to think of the struggle against Sauron simply in terms of winning and losing. For him it was not enough just to want the victory of Gondor. If Gondor were to win by doing evil, for Faramir this would not be a victory worth having. A victory achieved by evil means would mean that evil would be the victor and good would be defeated.

There have been many critics of Tolkien’s work who have dismissed it as a nothing more than a struggle between good and evil, as if such a struggle is merely something banal, and nothing that is at all noteworthy. I suspect that they never read this scene with its debate between father and son, between Denethor and Faramir. For once you have understood the debate it becomes so much harder to say something like, “my country right or wrong”.

We first saw the debate in Faramir when he first met Frodo and Sam. When once he had satisfied himself that the hobbits were not servants of the enemy, or that they had been involved in some way in the death of Boromir, his brother, he began to share with them his own personal philosophy recognising perhaps, particularly in Frodo, one who might be a friend to his soul, to the deepest level of his being. Perhaps it was the same thing that led Goldberry to recognise Frodo as an “Elf-friend”.

And in sharing his personal philosophy we learnt this. That Faramir had no desire merely for Gondor’s greatness. Of course he works for victory, but this is how he understands it.

“I would see the White Tree in flower again in the courts of the kings, and the Silver Crown return, and Minas Tirith in peace: Minas Anor again as of old, full of light, high and fair, beautiful as a queen among other queens: not a mistress of many slaves, nay not even a kind mistress of willing slaves… I would have her loved for her memory, her ancientry, her beauty, and her present wisdom”.

I hope that you noticed that phrase: “Not a mistress of many slaves, nay not even a kind mistress of many slaves”. This is so far from his father’s philosophy. It is so far from, “my country right or wrong”.

Denethor may say that he knows that to use the Ring is perilous. He is no fool and has insight into the malignant power of the Ring. But he overestimates his own power to master it. What would he do with the Ring?

“It should have been kept, hidden, hidden dark and deep. Not used, I say, unless at the uttermost end of need”.

And with those words, “the uttermost end of need” we see how Denethor would inevitably fall were the Ring to come to him. We know that Denethor would inevitably judge at some point in the war that the “uttermost end of need” had indeed come. He would judge that defeat was inevitable. Indeed he has almost reached this point already. Then he would take the Ring and attempt to use it against its maker, but his strength would not be enough. Neither strength to use the Ring to defeat the Enemy, nor strength to master the Ring itself and not to mastered by it. As Gandalf says to him:

“You are strong and can still in some matters govern yourself, Denethor; yet if you had received this thing, it would have overthrown you. Were it buried beneath the roots of Mindolluin, still it would burn your mind away, as the darkness grows, and the yet worse things follow that soon shall come upon us.”

Even now, the Ring is burning Denethor’s mind away, even though he does not possess it, just as it burns Saruman’s mind, and Gollum’s for that matter. Simply the desire to possess it and to possess the power that it can give is enough. It is this that is slowly overthrowing Denethor and which Faramir has overcome because Faramir has already won the great victory. He has chosen what is the highest and the best, what is good and beautiful and true.

“Ever Your Desire is To Appear Lordly and Generous as a King of Old”. Is This True of Faramir? What is The Difference Between Appearance and Reality?

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The Return of The King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 793-796

The words in this title are spoken by Denethor to Faramir. They are spoken in the private chamber of the Steward of Gondor and as well as Denethor and Faramir, Gandalf and Pippin are present too. That these characters should be gathered together at this meeting is not just a useful plot device. We all know by now that the story that Tolkien tells is almost always told through the eyes of the hobbits. There are very few scenes in the story in which one or another of them is not present. But Denethor has other reasons why he wants a hobbit present now. He is an intelligence gatherer, always seeking to build the most comprehensive picture of events possible. Later on we will learn that this desire almost cripples him as a man of action, but now it is enough to know that Pippin, the halfling out of ” northern legends” needs to be present. Denethor wants him there.

And it is there that he learns, along with Denethor and Gandalf, of Faramir’s encounter with Frodo and Sam in Ithilien, and how, just two days before the hobbits had set off with Gollum as their guide to the Morgul Vale and to Cirith Ungol. Gandalf makes little effort to hide his interest, indeed to hide his concern. It is the welfare of Frodo and Sam that matters most to him at this moment, and with their welfare the welfare of their mission, and the welfare of the world.

Denethor has other concerns. For him the issue that matters most is the welfare of Gondor. How can Gondor survive the attack that it is about to meet? How can Gondor emerge victorious from this war? Compared to those questions every other matter is of little or no importance. We will think more about this in a later blog, especially when we think about the Ring of Power, that we know is now on its way into Mordor, and which, for a little while, was in Faramir’s hands, even though he never even wished to look upon it.

But now we are thinking of Faramir himself. In the last two pieces that I wrote on this blog I wrote about him as a leader of men, about how his men would follow him, trust him, even in the most dangerous of circumstances. How his men would feel themselves greater than they really were, how they would know themselves as faithful. But what manner of man is this leader? Denethor shows what he thinks about this here.

“I know you well. Ever your desire is to appear lordly and generous as a king of old, gracious, gentle. This may well befit one of high race, if he sits in power and peace. But in desperate hours gentleness may be repaid with death.”

Denethor might be speaking of contemporary politics here. Indeed he is effectively accusing Faramir of playing a political game, of making a bid for power. He is aware of how his son is regarded by the people of Gondor. They may respect the Lord of the Tower but they love his son. We may never see a popularity poll in Gondor. Such things did not exist. But if they did it would probably show that Faramir is more popular than Denethor. How could he not be when in full view of the walls of Minas Tirith, the nearest that Gondor could come to a live broadcast, they watch him risk his own life to save that of his men? No wonder that crowds gathered at the gate to cheer for him and for Gandalf.

But we have seen enough of Faramir to know that his character and his appearance are of one kind, of one reality. He is as he appears to be. He appears “lordly and generous as a king of old, gracious, gentle” because that is what he truly is. For him this is not a luxury that belongs to a time of leisure, a pleasant thing to be cast aside when times are desperate, as Denethor puts it. He believes that victory for Gondor only has meaning if Gondor lives up to its highest qualities. Can there be ever victory for its own sake, victory because the only thing that matters is that our side rather than our opponents are the winners? If we win but behave like orcs, then the orcs have won, whoever may win the actual battle. Faramir refuses to think like this, and he refuses to act like this. He may never become a king but he behaves as a true king and not a false one.

“A Captain That Men Would Follow.” Some More Thoughts on Faramir of Gondor and Leadership.

/ stephencwinter / 8 Comments

The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 790-793

I attended a workshop during the last week on the subject of Peace during which the facilitator asked us to imagine a situation in which Vladimir Putin, that is the Russian military, were to appear on the horizon. She then asked us what we do. Would we fight? I was fairly sure that I would despite my advancing years. There is so much that I love that I would want to defend, and the actions of the Russian military in Ukraine have taught me that they would show little mercy if they were to succeed in conquering my country or any part of it.

But then our workshop leader asked another question. Would I send my children to fight? Immediately I knew in my gut that this was a completely different question altogether, and as I pondered it, and am still pondering it, I knew that the reason why it was different centred around that word, sent. Could I send my children, in this case, my two daughters, into danger? This isn’t just a matter of gender. I am perfectly aware that women as well as men are participants in modern warfare. But I want to argue here is that there is a big difference between sending and leading. Quite literally, a leader goes in front of those who follow but sending is something quite different.

Pippin recognises this quality of the leader in Faramir when he meets him for the first time. As we saw in the last post, he knows that Faramir “is a captain that he would follow, even under the shadow of the black wings.” He has already seen Faramir go back to give aid to his men who had been thrown from their horses after the attack by the Nazgûl riding upon their steeds of the air. He could have chosen to flee for his life and to abandon his men. He could have argued that it was more important that the heir to the Steward of Gondor owed it to his people to preserve his own life, even at the cost of his men, but he does not do this. Beregond was not surprised. This is what he expects of his captain. But he does not take what Faramir does for granted. He honours, even loves his captain, for that is what a captain who leads and does not send inspires in his followers.

Denethor recognises the difference himself. At a later point in the story, he is together in the tower with Gandalf and Pippin and speaks of the Dark Lord who will wait in Barad-dur until victory is won by his armies.

“So do all great lords, if they are wise, Master Halfling. Or why should I sit here in my tower and think, and watch, and wait, spending even my sons?” (The Return of the King p.800)

And so, we have this contrast through the story. Théoden leads his men into battle, transforming them from a beaten rabble into a mighty army simply by virtue of his presence at their head. Aragorn leads his followers even on the Paths of the Dead because he goes at their head and does not send them. Dáin Ironfoot and Brand of Dale fall at the head of their men at the gates of Erebor repelling the attack of the forces of Mordor, just as Thorin Oakenshield fell at the Battle of the Five Armies as recorded in The Hobbit.

So I return to the question with which I began these thoughts. Would I fight if an enemy attacked my country? All my instincts say to me that I would. I would fight in order to protect all that I love, and above all, I would fight to protect my family even if it proved to be a fight in vain. But would I send my children to fight, even as a country might send its sons and daughters to fight for it? With the same desire to protect my own children I could never send them to take any risk that I was not first willing to take. I could never make them stand in front of me, but I would always be willing to stand between them and danger. This, I believe, is what it means to lead.

And there is one last word, as my friend and commentator, Kate Splieth, pointed out to me this week, a word that we can use in addition to leading and sending and maybe it is the best word of all. It is the word, with, a word that we know we can use concerning Faramir. His men know that he will always be with them, and they love him for this above all. And it is the word most used in the gospels about the relationship of God with God’s people. “And lo I am with you always…”