Pippin

“The Darkness Has Begun. There Will Be No Dawn.” Pippin Has Nothing to Do But Wait for the Beginning of War.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 750-755

I have always found these pages in The Return of the King difficult to read. Like everyone else in the story I am waiting for the battle to begin. Not that I love stories of battle. Actually the older I get the less I like them. It’s just that waiting is so very difficult. What do you do as you wait for something that is too big to put out of your mind but you know that it is going to happen whether you want it to or not.

Even Gandalf seems to be distracted and unable to concentrate his considerable mind. At the end of the chapter that we have been reading and thinking about Pippin very much does not want to be alone. He wants to see Gandalf again, a figure from the familiar world of the Fellowship that set out from Rivendell and which has shared so much together. But when Gandalf arrives in the dead of night and Pippin tells him that he is glad to see him back Gandalf’s grumpy response is to say: “I have come back here, for I must have a little peace, alone. You should sleep in a bed while you still may.” In other words, leave me alone, Pippin!

Poor Pippin. There is so much difference between a bed that is a place of profound rest after great struggle, as is the bed on the Field of Cormallen for Frodo and Sam after their terrible trials, and a bed, however comfortable, that is but a brief pause before a time of trial. As Gandalf puts it with brutal succinctness, “the night will be too short.”

For Pippin, indeed for Gandalf too, there is no escape from this time of waiting except to pass through it. Pippin may want some kind of company in order to distract himself from himself but so too does Gandalf.

“When will Faramir return?” he asks himself, searching in the darkness for some piece that is missing in the vain hope that it will make sense of everything. Gandalf might just have asked, when will Théoden, or Aragorn, arrive? He might even ask, when will Frodo and Sam complete their task? And for poor Pippin there is the nagging ache that lies deep within his soul that is the unanswered question, where is Merry?

And that is the problem when all is said and done. I might be able to ask the question, but that does not mean that my question can be answered. Or, at the very least, it does not mean that I have any power within myself to answer that question. Gandalf cannot make anything happen that can quieten his troubled mind. All that he can do is to wait.

Some well meaning guides might suggest a mindfulness technique at this point. If only Gandalf or Pippin could focus on a mantra of some kind or a sacred word, then all will be well. But all would not be well. The forces of Mordor would still be about to arrive and that can never be good whatever we might do to prepare to meet it. And Faramir, Théoden and Aragorn would still be somewhere unknown.

Pippin is going through an initiation. He has been ever since he passed his first uncomfortable night in the fields of the Shire after setting out with Frodo and Sam from Bag End. How that night, the night before the hobbits encountered the Nazgûl for the very first time, must seem like paradise as Pippin waits through a night after which there will be no dawn. But that is the point in an initiation. Its whole purpose is to teach you how to die before you die. It teaches you to live light to everything except for the things that really matter. It teaches you what those things really are. They aren’t the accumulation of wealth, not even of power. As Gildor Inglorien said to Frodo on the second night of the journey across the Shire, take those who you can trust. In other words, friendship matters far more than power.

On the night before the outbreak of war Pippin feels very much alone and afraid. He is forced to endure it by himself. But he will emerge from this experience as one who can be a source of great strength to others. Later, Faramir will have reason to be grateful for his friendship, so too will Merry who will not be left to die alone on the battlefield, and Aragorn who will not be killed by the troll on the field before the Black Gate of Mordor. This night may be desperately hard to endure but, along with all the other things that Pippin has to pass through, it will make him the “very valiant man” as he was introduced to Ingold and his men at the beginning of The Return of the King.

“A Pawn Did Gandalf Say? Perhaps; But On the Wrong Chessboard.” Pippin Feels Out of Place Amidst Preparations for War in Gondor.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 749-750

The Nazgûl that passed across the sun casting a shadow into the hearts of the defenders of Minas Tirith has gone and Pippin and Beregond sit silently for a time together for a time with bowed heads. Together they have spoken of the fear that hides within their hearts and a bond has been forged between them. Later this bond will save the life of Faramir and we will think about this on another occasion. Now Pippin of the Shire, one who as we have seen throughout the story is able to find courage and hope even when there seems to be no hope, stands up again and sees “that the sun was still shining, and the banners still streaming in the breeze.”

“No, my heart will not yet despair,” he declares. “Gandalf fell and has returned and is with us. We may stand, if only on one leg, or at least be left still upon our knees.”

When times seem hope-less we need friends who, like Pippin, seem almost constitutionally incapable of giving way to despair. We remember that it was Pippin who, when he and Merry were the captives of the orcs of Isengard, cut his bonds with a fallen orc blade and was able to leave his leaf broach, given to him in Lothlórien, on the plains of Rohan. Would anyone ever see this sign and follow them? Pippin did not know. But he refused to give in.

Defiance is kindled within the heart of Beregond and he stands tall once more. And we can imagine conversations like this taking place throughout the city as soldiers seek to en-courage one another. Indeed so much does Beregond recognise this quality of encouragement within his new companion that he invites Pippin to join him in his company’s mess hall. He wants to give a piece of Pippin to his comrades and they, in their turn welcome all that Pippin can give, plying him with so much food and drink that he has to take special care not to allow his tongue to run away with him. Pippin, the careless, is growing in wisdom on his journey.

And this is not the only way in which Pippin is growing in wisdom. He is beginning to learn what lies, what truly lies, within his heart. We might forgive a young man as he is, one who might naturally seek the approval, even admiration, of his fellows, if he were to begin to boast and swagger among them. Anyone who has ever spent time in the company of young men will know that a good deal of this goes on when they gather together. “Look at me!” they seem to be saying to one another. But Pippin is not a boy any longer. He has seen death and horror and, perhaps most importantly of all, he has known failure. And now as he watches Beregond the warrior of Gondor rousing his heart for battle he recalls some words that Gandalf spoke to him as they left their interview with Denethor.

“The Enemy has the move, and he is about to open his full game. And pawns are as likely to see as much of it as any, Peregrin son of Paladin, soldier of Gondor. Sharpen your blade!”

Gandalf likens the war to a game of chess and Pippin to a pawn upon the board waiting to be moved into position by others, knowing that often it is the part of pawns simply to be sacrificed for what is deemed a higher purpose. Pippin does not resent the title that is given to him. He has no pretence to any higher status within the game. He is no more significant a part of the game than anyone else. Indeed, as he watches Beregond stirring up his courage as he strikes the hilt of his sword he feels himself undeserving even of the title of pawn.

“A pawn did Gandalf say? Perhaps; but on the wrong chessboard.”

Pippin suddenly feels that he has no right to be anywhere near the war that is about to break out, no right to wear the livery of a soldier of Gondor among those who, in his eyes, deserve to be given this title. Perhaps it is just as well that he does not know that all the smiting of hilts and all the cries of defiance are, in truth, and in part at least, the efforts of his new comrades to be hide their own fears. We might even look back to Gandalf’s reply to Frodo when he realised the danger that his possession of the Ring had brought him and cried out that he wished it need not have happened in his time.

“So do all who live to see such times,” Gandalf replied.

So do all. And so does Pippin. And Beregond too.

“For if We Fall, Who Shall Stand? And, Master Peregrin, Do You See Any Hope That We Shall Stand?” Beregond and Pippin on the Walls of Minas Tirith.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 745-749

After Pippin and Beregond look to the welfare of Shadowfax and find food together they make their way onto the walls of the city and look out, north, east and south as final preparations are made for war. Far below them, on the road that winds through the Pelennor Fields, they see a line of wagons bearing the sad cargo of the women and children of the city heading southward, the ancient sign of war. The most vulnerable are torn from their homes and will rely now upon the kindness of strangers. So it continues until our own times.

Beregond may not be one of the captains of Gondor but he is a man who thinks both widely and deeply, and he begins to reflect upon the strategic peril of his own land and also of the free lands of the West. Already there is news that the Corsairs of Umbar are sailing towards the seaport of Pelargir; and because of the threat they pose the people of the south are staying near their homes in order to defend them instead of coming to the aid of Minas Tirith. And then Beregond ponders the events in Rohan that Pippin has described to him.

“The doings at Isengard should warn us that we are caught now in a great net and strategy. This is no longer a bickering at the fords, raiding from Ithilien and from Anórien, ambushing and pillaging. This is a great war long planned, and we are but one piece in it, whatever pride may say.”

At last Pippin and Beregond look out towards the east from which the darkness comes and Beregond asks of Pippin and of his own heart the question to which he most fears an answer.

“Here will the hammer-stroke fall hardest. And for that reason Mithrandir came in such haste. For if we fall, who shall stand? And Master Peregrin, do you see any hope that we shall stand?”

Is there any hope? That is the question that everything comes to. And as Beregond asks the question so Pippin’s imagination is filled with memories of the journey that he has undertaken. He thinks of the Uruk-hai of Isengard in the woods and the fall of Boromir and he remembers the pursuit of the Nazgûl in the lanes of the Shire at a time when he had little understanding of the peril that they represented. And as he remembers them and all that he has known of their terror a shadow passes across the sun and Pippin turns white and cowers against the wall. Beregond bears no judgement at all as he sees Pippin’s reaction.

“You also felt something?”

“Yes,” muttered Pippin. “It is the sign of our fall, and the shadow of doom, a Fell Rider of the air.”

“Yes, the shadow of doom,” said Beregond. “I fear that Minas Tirith shall fall. Night comes. The warmth of my blood seems stolen away.”

Pippin and Beregond seem overwhelmed by the horror that is coming to assail them. Every hope, every dream that they may have carried in their hearts both for themselves and for those that they love is extinguished in their hearts. All that there is is darkness. We are reminded of the account of the Last Supper that is given by St John and the moment when Judas Iscariot goes from the upper room to betray Jesus to the Temple authorities and the words that conclude this part of the story.

“And it was night.”

In the greatest stories, perhaps even in the story that is our life, there will come a moment when there is only darkness that can be seen and there seems no light beyond it. We saw Sam Gamgee kneel beside the body of Frodo, filled as it was with Shelob’s venom. We fell to the ground in horror with the Fellowship after the fall of Gandalf at the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. At those moments all hope seemed lost. But there was still a moment beyond that. And another one, and another. And in some way another step was taken. And another. As Aragorn said at the eastern gate of Moria. “We shall go on without hope.”

“They Say that Men Who Go Warring Afield Look Ever to the Next Hope of Food and Of Drink.” Pippin Makes the Acquaintance of Beregond of the Guard.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 744-745

After his gruelling encounter with the Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor, Pippin unsurprisingly responds to this experience as would any self respecting hobbit. He looks for something to eat. The tower bell has just struck 9 o’clock and Pippin stands alone in the street.

“Just the time for a nice breakfast, by the open window in spring sunshine,” he says to himself and immediately we are reminded of Bilbo on the adventure that we know as The Hobbit. Pippin reminds more of Bilbo than of Frodo. It is unlikely that Thorin Oakenshield would have praised Frodo for his pleasure in the matters of the table as he did Bilbo but he would have recognised in Pippin a kindred spirit to his friend and travelling companion. And he would not have mistaken Pippin’s love for food and drink for inadequacy in martial valour. Nor does Beregond of the Guard when Pippin asks him where he might find something to eat.

“Beregond looked at him gravely. ‘An old campaigner, I see,’ he said. ‘They say that men who go warring afield look ever to the next hope of food and drink; though I am not a travelled man myself.”

Tolkien, an army veteran himself of the First World War (1914-18), knew of what he spoke. It is thought that one of the things that encouraged young men in Britain to sign up at the outbreak of the war in 1914 was the guarantee of a good meal every single day. My father, himself a veteran of the Normandy landings in the Second World War of June 1944, and of the battles that followed them, used to speak of how the officers would never sit down for their own meal in the evening until they had made sure that the men under their command had eaten theirs.

Unbeknown to himself Pippin has already eaten breakfast in the company of the Steward of Gondor. As he says to Beregond it was “no more than a cup of wine and a white cake or two by the kindness of your lord”. To Pippin this was little more than a snack and hard earned because of Denethor’s interrogation but Beregond laughs and then replies that Pippin has broken his fast “as well as any man in the Citadel, and with greater honour.” It is worth noting here that the character of Denethor that Tolkien draws is very different from that created by Peter Jackson. I am sure that my readers will remember the scene in the film in which Denethor consumes a lavish meal served by a Pippin who is trying to hide his distaste as Faramir leads his men into battle in a suicidal cavalry charge. This is far from Tolkien’s creation. Denethor is no glutton. If anything he is a man incapable of escaping the bleak austerity of a city under siege. In the last post on this blog we spoke of Denethor’s wanhope, a state of mind to quote Chaucer, “that is despair of the mercy of God that comes sometimes of too much outrageous sorrow and sometimes of too much dread”.

Pippin, like Gandalf as we have thought about in recent posts, is a lover of life. By this we do not mean that he will “eat, drink and be merry” for all that he has to look forward to is death. Pippin does eat and drink, and he is certainly merry, but he does so in celebration of life. Pippin knows deep sorrow. He saw Boromir fall and he carries the pain of that sorrow with him wherever he goes and has offered himself in service to Boromir’s father in payment of the debt he feels he owes. But Pippin does this because in all things he joyfully affirms the life that Boromir laid down for him. Maybe that is why he was able to see the mirth in Gandalf that always lies just below the surface. Maybe that is why he is drawn to Gandalf. Maybe that is also why Gandalf is drawn to him.

“Pippin Perceived That Gandalf Had The Greater Power, and a Deeper Wisdom, and a Majesty That Was Veiled.” Pippin Begins to Ask The Question, “What Was Gandalf?”

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 740-743

This is the second post that I am writing about Gandalf in this short series based upon his arrival in Minas Tirith with Pippin. What I seek to write is, in effect, an attempt to answer a question that Pippin asked of himself in the throne room of Gondor as he stood between Gandalf and Denethor and felt the power of both.

“Denethor looked indeed much more like a great wizard than Gandalf did, more kingly, beautiful and powerful; and older. Yet by a sense other than sight Pippin perceived that Gandalf had the greater power and the deeper wisdom, and a majesty that was veiled. And he was older, far older.”

It is the contrast between Gandalf and Denethor that causes Pippin to deepen his perception, causes him to begin to realise that reality is more than can be understood through the senses. Denethor merely looked more like a great wizard than Gandalf. It requires the development of an inner eye for Pippin to begin to truly see. Perhaps it was his experience with the Palantír, the Seeing Stone, and maybe even his encounter with Sauron himself through that medium and the recognition of his utter vulnerability that accelerated Pippin’s journey towards a greater wisdom. And it leads him to a question.

“What was Gandalf?”

It is thanks to Christopher Tolkien that we have so many of his father’s papers that remained unpublished during his lifetime and in one that was published as an essay entitled, The Istari, in Unfinished Tales (Harper Collins 1998 pp. 502-520) Tolkien tells us much that is only hinted at in The Lord of the Rings. For example, take the insight that Pippin has “a majesty that was veiled”. In his essay we read this about Gandalf and the other Istari.

We read that during the Third Age the Valar sent with the consent of Eru, “members of their own high order” to Middle-earth. And that, although they were by nature spirits they were “clad in bodies as of Men, real and not feigned”. The point was that when in the First Age the Valar became aware of the coming of the Elves, the First Born, to Middle-earth, they went there from Valinor to persuade them to leave Middle-earth and to go with them to the safety of the Undying Lands, away from the threat of Morgoth. But they went in their full glory and terrified many of the Elves who refused to go with them. In sending the Istari in the Third Age the Valar determined not to repeat the same mistake.

“The emissaries were forbidden to reveal themselves in forms of majesty, or to seek to rule the wills of Men or Elves by open display of power, but coming in shapes weak and humble were bidden to advise and persuade Men and Elves to do good, and to seek to unite in love and understanding all those whom Sauron, should he come again, would endeavour to dominate and corrupt.” (Unfinished Tales p. 503)

Of the five wizards who came to the north of Middle-earth, two, the Blue Wizards, do not enter our tale. Even Tolkien did not know much of what became of them except that they may have gone into the East. Radagast the Brown, who makes a charming appearance in Peter Jackson’s Hobbit movies, riding his sleigh drawn by hares, seems to have given up so much power that he no longer had much to do with those who might oppose Sauron, preferring to live among birds and animals. Saruman, we know, came to reveal himself in majesty, becoming impatient with the free peoples of Middle-earth and with the patience of the Valar and of Eru. Eventually he even chose to ally himself with Sauron while plotting to replace him as Dark Lord through his own study in rings of power. Only Gandalf remained true to his original calling.

Tolkien was devoutly Roman Catholic and as I read these words about the mission of the Istari I cannot help but ask the question whether he felt that the Church should not go to the world, seeking to rule the lives of people “by open display of power”. Should the Church go to the world in “shapes weak and humble” as Gandalf did? Were the occasions in which the Church, and especially its bishops, sought to terrify ordinary folk, occasions in which it fell into the temptation of Saruman. Were the splendid palaces of the princes of the Church expressions of Isengard rather than Rivendell? Should the servants of the Church be pilgrims on the same roads as ordinary people as Gandalf is rather than mighty lords as Saruman became?

“Under All There Was There Was a Great Joy: a Fountain of Mirth Enough to Set a Kingdom Laughing.” Who is Being Described Here?

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The Return of the King by J.R.R (Harper Collins 1991) pp 741-743

I posed a question in the title of this blog post because I don’t think that the answer is immediately obvious. If the quotation in the title was a part of a quiz question and you were asked to identify who is being described I feel quite certain that a few, at least, of my reade1rs would not identify the character. After all, in Peter Jackson’s films there are only two occasions on which he laughs aloud. The first is upon his arrival in the Shire at the beginning of the story, the second when he celebrates the fall of Sauron and the recovery of Frodo and Sam.

The character to whom I am of course referring is Gandalf and the one who is describing him is Pippin.

I think that there is an element of surprise here about both of them. Gandalf is usually a very serious character and Pippin is surprised indeed by the sound of Gandalf’s laughter.

“Are you angry with me, Gandalf?” Pippin asks as they emerge from the throne room together. “I did the best I could.”

“You did indeed!” said Gandalf, laughing suddenly; and he came and stood beside Pippin, putting his arm across the hobbit’s shoulders, and gazed out of the window. Pippin glanced in some wonder at the face now close beside his own for the sound of that laugh had been gay and merry. Yet in the wizard’s face he saw at first only lines of care and sorrow; though as he looked more intently he perceived that under all there was a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing, were it to gush forth.”

I will return to thoughts about Gandalf in a moment as it is about him that we are thinking in this post but I did refer to two elements of surprise. The second element, of course, is what we learn about Pippin. It is Pippin who glances in wonder at Gandalf. He glances, of course, because he is too shy to stare at Gandalf. But his glance is one of wonder, wonder at the gaiety and merriment that he discerns in a laugh that comes from someone in whom until now he has only seen “care and sorrow”.

Pippin is growing. And he is growing fast.

We will return to Pippin on another occasion but now we must think more about Gandalf. Perhaps, like Pippin, we have only seen Gandalf’s surface, his care and sorrow, until now. There is nothing to be ashamed of here. Gandalf has much to be sorrowful about as he has long carried the burdens of care for Middle-earth upon his shoulders. As he said to Denethor in the throne room: “But all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are my care.” For Gandalf too is a steward, even as Denethor is, but his stewardship is over a greater realm than Gondor and he is a lord over no realm or people. His stewardship is one of care alone.

When Gandalf first arrived at the Grey Havens in Middle-earth around the year 1000 of the Third Age Círdan, the Warden of the Havens greeted him with sober speech.

“Great perils and labours lie before you, and lest your task prove too great and wearisome, take this ring for your aid and comfort.” (Unfinished Tales Harper Collins 1998 p. 504)

In the next few posts on my blog I intend to think much more about Gandalf, both about his labours but also about his joy. The two are intimately bound together and it is essential that we see them as such. As we think about Gandalf we might be reminded of lines from William Blake’s great poem, Auguries of Innocence:

“Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine.”

For Blake it is impossible to separate the two aspects of our lives and unwise even to seek to do so. It is only possible, as he puts it in the poem, to go safely through the world if we know that we are “made for joy and woe”, together. If we try to eliminate woe, or sadness, from our lives, we will go astray, if we are willing to carry our share of the burdens and care of the world upon our shoulders and yet to bear them with joy then we can do some good in the world. To live a life of joyful responsibility might release, if not a fountain of mirth to set a kingdom laughing, then perhaps at least a merry stream that bubbles up from the ground to water our families and maybe something wider than that.

“What is Wrong With Strider?” Gandalf Gives Pippin a Rapid Briefing on Aragorn Just Before They Enter the Throne Room of Gondor.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 736-737

You would have thought that Gandalf would have briefed Pippin about Aragorn and his true identity some time before they went into the throne room of Gondor to meet Denethor. After all it is four days since he had set out from the camp at Dol Baran with Pippin seated in front of him on Shadowfax so there has been plenty of time to do so, but he did not. In fact he tells Pippin that it was his responsibility to learn something of the history of Gondor. But I rather think that Gandalf knows that Pippin only learns something, really learns it, when it is absolutely necessary for him to do so. Before that time comes for him all that he is told will go in through one ear and out of the other.

So as they go down a passage to the throne room Gandalf tells Pippin not to tell Denethor any more than is necessary about the death of Boromir, nothing about Frodo’s errand, and nothing about Aragorn.

“Why not?” asks Pippin guilelessly. “What is wrong with Strider?”

It is worth noting that Pippin still refers here to Aragorn as Strider, to the name by which Aragorn introduced himself to Frodo and his companions in the Prancing Pony in Bree. This is not some slip of the tongue on Pippin’s part. He never really gets to know Aragorn by any other name. Readers may remember that in the chapter entitled Flotsam and Jetsam as Merry and Pippin tell their story to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, Aragorn settles down with his pipe to listen to them and Pippin cries out: “Strider the Ranger has come back!” (Two Towers p.734). There will also be a moment later in the story after the Battle of the Pelennor Fields when Pippin will see Aragorn for the first time since leaving the camp in Rohan and will cry out in surprise and joy: “Strider! How splendid!” and Pippin’s familiarity will be a cause of some irritation at that moment for those who are just beginning to get used to the possibility that the warrior who arrived in the battle at just the right time might possibly be their king.

So to Pippin Aragorn always remains the man who befriended him and his friends in the inn at Bree. Perhaps Gandalf recognises this and so decides not to overcomplicate things with his young companion. Perhaps too, Gandalf knows that the real value that Pippin brings to his task is not his intelligence or subtlety but his innocence. After all Pippin would have to be a completely different and much older character even to begin to match Denethor in subtlety, and if he tried to do so the effort would be perceived so quickly that more harm might be done in the attempt than any good. Much better that Pippin simply keeps his mouth shut and comes before Denethor as he is. What touches Denethor, getting momentarily beneath his defences, is not Pippin’s cleverness but the moment when he pledges his service to Denethor in gratitude for Boromir’s sacrifice. After all Pippin always revered Boromir remembering how Boromir had laid down his life for him when he was captured by the orcs of Isengard.

Aragorn will have to take care of himself, how he will arrive in Minas Tirith and under what name. And when he does so he will even use Pippin’s over familiarity to his advantage. When the Prince of Dol Amroth acidly asks: “Is it thus that we speak to our kings?” Aragorn replies:

“Verily, for in the high tongue of old I am Elessar, the Elfstone, and Envinyatur, the Renewer… But Strider shall be the name of my house, if that ever be established. In the high tongue it will not sound so ill, and Telcontar I will be and all the heirs of my body (Return p.845)

So Gandalf trusts Aragorn to be Aragorn and I think we can also say with some confidence that he trusts Pippin to be Pippin and does not expect Pippin to be anything other than he is.

“Yet Now They Were Silent, and No Footsteps Rang on Their Wide Pavements, nor Voice Was Heard in Their Halls…” Pippin Journeys Through Minas Tirith, Falling into Decay.

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The Return of The King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 733-736

One of the important things that a good reader of The Lord of the Rings will ask is whose eyes are we looking at this part of the story through? Sometimes a scene will be described in epic heroic language and we can imagine that we are listening to a bard in a royal mead hall, but usually we see the scene through the eyes of a hobbit, either Frodo or one of the three companions who set out from the Shire with him, and then we remember that Tolkien tells the story as one that he discovered in the Red Book of West March and which was an account of the adventures of Bilbo and then of Frodo and his friends, written by Bilbo, then Frodo and completed by Sam with the aid of Merry and Pippin.

In the last post on this blog we heard Gandalf’s prophetic words to the guards at the gates of Minas Tirith and now we journey up the seven levels of the city in the company of Gandalf and Pippin and soon realise that it is not Gandalf’s eyes through which we see the city but Pippin’s.

“Pippin gazed in growing wonder at the great stone city, vaster and more splendid than anything that he had dreamed of; greater and stronger than Isengard, and far more beautiful.”

Minas Tirith is the great achievement of the descendants of Númenor in Middle-earth, built by the followers of Elendil at the end of the Second Age as they escaped from the wreck of their homeland and established new kingdoms in Gondor and Arnor. Minas Tirith was first known as Minas Anor, the city of the Sun, which faced Minas Ithil, the city of the Moon, with Osgiliath, the city of starlight, the first capital of Gondor, that grew on the banks of the Anduin and whose bridges were a link between the sun and the moon and the two sides of the great river.

In the year 2002 in the Third Age, the Nazgûl captured Minas Ithil, renaming it Minas Morgul, the city of Black Magic, and Minas Anor was renamed becoming the City of the Guard, Minas Tirith, and so it remained until the War of the Ring in 3019, over a thousand years later.

Defence is a wearisome affair, especially when your whole identity is shaped by defying an enemy who are servants of darkness and of death. Was it because of this that, as the long years went by, the defenders of Minas Tirith slowly became enamoured of death themselves? Pippin sees a city that “lacks half the men that could have dwelt at ease there”. Year by year the city has fallen into decline and has become depopulated. As Pippin gazes upon the great houses of the city he sees many that are silent where “no footsteps rang on their wide pavements, nor voice was heard in their halls, nor any face looked out from door or empty window”.

Later, when Legolas and Gimli entered the city, after a Battle of the Pelennor Fields, Legolas made a similar observation to Pippin’s, remarking that “the houses are dead, and there is too little here that grows and is glad”. (ĹOTR p.854)

The defenders of Minas Tirith have long defied their enemies with great courage but they have lost the ability to be glad. They admire martial skills and so Boromir the warrior was their great hero, but nothing grows in the gardens of the city and too few children play there. Gandalf declared that the “end of the Gondor that you have known” had come, and it is likely that the gloom that had become the habitual state of mind of the defenders was merely deepened as they heard his words. But Gandalf was giving a message of hope and of renewal. Can Denethor, their lord, hear such a message, or does he even want to hear it? Is it possible that we can become so attached to our state of mind, even to our despair, that we do not wish to hear of hope when it is spoken to us, preferring the unhappiness that we have become used to, and even fearing a hope that will disturb, even sweep away, the existence in a grey half light to which we have become used? So Gandalf prepares for his meeting with the Steward of Gondor.

“Whatever Betide, You Have Come to the End of The Gondor That You Have Known.” Gandalf Enters the Gates of Minas Tirith and Declares Its Doom.

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The Return of The King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 733-735

There are many who fear the word, doom, believing it to be a word that speaks of destruction. And let us begin by saying that it does speak that way. Indeed it is a word that speaks of judgement and it is words of judgement that Gandalf speaks at the gates of Minas Tirith as he arrives there upon Shadowfax bearing Pippin before him.

The guards at the gate see Gandalf as the herald of war as is their belief about him and in reply to them he has no words of comfort for them.

The storm “is upon you,” he declares to them. “I have ridden upon its wings. Let me pass! I must come to your Lord Denethor, while his stewardship lasts. Whatever betide, you have come to the end of the Gondor you have known.”

This is the end of the Third Age of the world. Its terrible climax as Sauron reaches out his hand seeking to bring all things under his rule and domination, lacking only the ruling Ring to make his victory absolutely complete. If he triumphs, as Galadriel said to Frodo after he had looked into her mirror “then we are laid bare to the Enemy.” But if Frodo succeeds in his mission “then our power is diminished, and Lothlórien will fade, and the tides of Time will sweep it away”.

I speak here of the ending of the time of the Elves in Middle-earth but what of Gondor? In what way will its end have come? Surely if Frodo succeeds in destroying the Ring then Sauron will fall and Gondor will triumph being free from its greatest foe forever?

The clue to understanding what Gandalf says to the guards lies in his reference to the Lord Denethor, the Steward of Gondor. “I must come to your Lord Denethor, while his stewardship lasts.” Gandalf is not prophesying the particular end to which Denethor will come on the day of the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. It is the return of the king to which he alludes here. Aragorn, the Lord Elessar, is making his way to the city even as Gandalf speaks, and either he will fall with Gondor or he will claim its crown as its rightful lord. The Gondor that its people have known for many centuries will come to an end either in defeat or triumph.

The Return of the King, the final volume of The Lord of the Rings, is a story of endings and new beginnings. Of course there is the ending of the great evil, the shadow that has oppressed the peoples of Middle-earth for many long years. As Sam will ask as he wakes at the Field of Cormallen: “Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?” And one sadness has indeed “come untrue”, but not all that is sad. Lothlórien will fade as the power of the Three Elven Rings will fade with the destruction of the One Ring, and their keepers, Galadriel, Elrond and Gandalf, will depart from Middle-earth, and with them will depart the enchantment, the song that Sam felt himself to be a part of in Lothlórien, with which they enriched the world. The disenchanted world in which we live, the burden that we must bear, is in part the fruit of Frodo’s triumph. How much would the readers of Tolkien’s great tales wish to be able to walk into the enchanted lands of Lothlórien and Rivendell in the clear light of day even as Frodo and his companions were able to do, but all we can do is to catch glimpses of Faerie and to carry them in our hearts in the diminished world that is the one in which we live, learning perhaps the art of re-enchantment as we bring what we have glimpsed to the task of ordinary life, to find “heaven in ordinary”, as George Herbert puts it in his poem, Prayer.

And so too will the Gondor that its people have known pass away, and we will journey with its steward, in his sad attachment to what has long been passing away under his watch. We will see that not all will welcome the possibility of renewal but will reject it. But renewal will come, even though much will be lost, and some will embrace it, even while they bear the loss of much that was beautiful.

“I am a Hobbit and No More Valiant Than I am a Man, Save Perhaps Now and Again By Necessity.” Pippin Declares Himself to The Guard at The Walls of The Pelennor.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 732-733

In an unsafe world in which the arrival of strangers might mean the coming of threat and danger it is necessary that those strangers should declare themselves to the guards. So we remember Aragorn first declaring himself to Éomer in the fields of Rohan and then to Hama at the doors of Meduseld and how it was on these occasions that he first announced his mighty lineage. When times are urgent and haste is required then the bearer of a name has no time for modesty if that one is not to suffer let or hindrance.

When Gandalf comes to the defences of the Pelennor Fields he has no need to declare himself to the guards as they rebuild its walls. They know him and know that he has the favour of the Lord of Minas Tirith. But who is the small creature who sleeps before him upon Shadowfax?

At first Gandalf speaks for his companion.

“His name is Peregrin, a very valiant man.”

Why does Gandalf speak of Pippin in terms like this? We have accompanied Pippin on his journey from the Shire all the way to this moment, from the time when his journey was no more dangerous than a walking holiday to his arrival at Minas Tirith in time of war. We recall Gandalf’s anger in the guard room in Moria when Pippin dropped a stone into the well so that he could find out how deep it was.

“Fool of a Took!”

That was what he thought of the young hobbit then. And we remember his anger when he caught Pippin looking into the Stone of Orthanc. Yet now he declares Pippin a mighty warrior to Ingold and his men. Is he simply trying to speed his journey or merely flattering his young companion?

I would argue that Gandalf does neither, that he is doing the same before Ingold and his men as Aragorn did before Éomer and Hama. He is announcing Pippin before the men of Gondor, declaring him to be a worthy addition to their number. A mighty man of arms in whose faith and help his fellows can trust.

“He has passed through more battles and perils than you have, Ingold, though you be twice his height; and he comes now from the storming of Isengard”.

Pippin is not the same hobbit who began the journey in the Shire, nor even the one who could not help taking a look into the Stone of Orthanc. He has passed through his initiation, both when he seized his chance “with both hands”, as Gimli spoke approvingly of the moment when he used a fallen orc blade to cut his bonds when he was the prisoner of the Uruk-hai of Isengard; but also in the way he has dealt with the humiliation he suffered through the incident with the palantir. He neither indulges in self-pity nor in self-congratulation. He knows that he was foolish to look into the Stone and he was fortunate that Sauron did not choose to interrogate him further at the time.

So he shows in the manner with which he announces himself.

“I am a hobbit and no more valiant than I am a man, save perhaps now and again by necessity.”

He has an appropriate pride in himself. He is a hobbit and he feels no need either to boast or apologise for this. He simply looks Ingold in the eye as Aragorn did with Éomer and says, this is who I am. And as for being valiant he declares to him that if he is ever brave it is only when he needs to be. Ingold and his men honour the manner in which he has spoken to them. That he has looked them in the eye, face to face, neither with arrogance or shame.

“Fare you well! ” said Ingold; and the men made way for Shadowfax, and he passed through a narrow gate in the wall. “May you bring good counsel to Denethor in his need, and to us all, Mithrandir!”