The Lord of the Rings

Further Thoughts on Gandalf’s “Fountain of Mirth”. Gandalf and The Shire.

/ stephencwinter / 2 Comments

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

This is the third post in a short series of reflections that I am writing about Gandalf based upon the observations that Pippin makes of him both in the scene that takes place in the throne room of Gondor at the beginning of The Return of the King, the final volume of The Lord of the Rings and the scene that follows immediately after. As we saw in the last piece Pippin’s thoughts about Gandalf are inspired by the comparison that he begins to draw with Denethor, realising that Denethor’s impressive demeanour does not go anywhere near as deep as the reality of Gandalf, even though this does not seem so at first glance.

Two weeks ago I wrote about Gandalf’s joy for the first time, a joy that Pippin sees as “a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing, were it to gush forth”, and in this post I want to think more about this.

The hobbits of the Shire know Gandalf as a strange figure who comes and goes among them from time to time. In many ways their main impression of him is as a kind of travelling showman. They know him best for his spectacular firework shows, such as he offered them at Bilbo’s farewell party. When in Lothlórien Frodo and Sam composed poetry by which to remember him after his fall in Moria it was this that Sam recalled most vividly. 

The finest rockets ever seen:
they burst in stars of blue and green, 
or after thunder golden showers 
came falling like a rain of flowers.

And if it were not Gandalf’s fireworks for which he was best known in the Shire it might have been his pleasure in pipe-smoking, something to which the hobbits had first introduced him. Indeed we might say that it was play and pleasure that regularly brought Gandalf to the Shire. Gandalf says as much in his telling of the story that we know as The Hobbit to Frodo and other members of the Fellowship in Minas Tirith after Aragorn’s coronation.

“I was tired, and I was going to the Shire for a short rest, after being away from it for more than twenty years. I thought that if I put them [dark thoughts about the return of Sauron and the potential threat of Smaug the dragon] out of my mind for a while I might perhaps find some way of dealing with these troubles.” (Unfinished Tales p. 416)

Gandalf associated the Shire and hobbits with much needed rest. But was it merely coincidental that it was on his way to the Shire that Gandalf met with Thorin Oakenshield and learned of Thorin’s desire to lead an expedition to recover the Lonely Mountain from the terrible dragon that lived there? It was in his meeting with Thorin that the thought of Bilbo Baggins first came into Gandalf’s mind.

“Suddenly in my mind these three things came together: the great Dragon with his lust, and his keen hearing and scent; the heavy-booted Dwarves with their old burning grudge; and the quick soft-footed Hobbit, sick at heart (I guessed) for a sight of the wide world.” (Unfinished Tales p. 417)

What Gandalf does is to play with the images that come into his mind, allowing them to take shape there and, in a sense, take on a life of their own. In many ways Gandalf does exactly what Tolkien the storyteller does. Both he and Tolkien journey into the imaginal realm and they play amidst the images that they find there.

It is essential here to emphasise that neither Tolkien’s play or Gandalf’s is a mere passing away the time between more serious tasks. Or maybe I should say that Tolkien was not just passing time when he journeyed into Faerie, the perilous realm, the imaginal realm. It was in that realm that both discovered and then sub-created his legendarium from what he saw.

In his telling of his story to Frodo and his companions Gandalf tells us a little more of his own journey into the imaginal realm, the journey that takes him to a place in which Smaug, Thorin Oakenshield and his companions, and Bilbo Baggins, somehow find themselves together. It is a journey that no-one else takes and it leads to consequences that no-one could have anticipated. For on his journey Bilbo finds the Ring of Power. Even at the time of that discovery no-one, Gandalf included, had any idea of the significance of Bilbo’s magic ring. Gandalf describes his own actions as no more than following “the lead of ‘chance'”, a journey on which he made many mistakes by his own admission.

We will come back to that journey in the next piece. In the meantime I invite you to think further about the relationship between play in Gandalf’s story and the events that ultimately lead to the discovery and then the destruction of the Ring and the fall of Sauron. I believe that they are intimately bound together.

I am grateful for the work of Dr Becca Tarnas for introducing me to the idea of Tolkien’s journey into the imaginal realm. I hope that her doctoral thesis comparing the Red Books of J.R.R Tolkien and Carl Jung will be published soon. In the meantime can I recommend her reader’s guide to The Lord of the Rings, “Journey to the Imaginal Realm”, published by Revelore Press in 2019.

“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?”

/ stephencwinter / 6 Comments

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?

/ stephencwinter / 8 Comments

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.

/ stephencwinter / 2 Comments

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.

/ stephencwinter / 6 Comments

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.

/ stephencwinter / 8 Comments

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.

/ stephencwinter / 4 Comments

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!”

“The Beacons of Gondor Are Alight, Calling for Aid. War is Kindled.” Gandalf Speaks of The Ancient Alliance of Gondor and Rohan.

/ stephencwinter / 6 Comments

The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 731-732

Following the events at the borders of Mordor that we read at the end of The Two Towers, with Frodo taken by orcs to the tower of Cirith Ungol and Sam shut out before its doors, we return to the ride of Gandalf and Pippin from the wreck of Isengard towards war in Gondor. Peter Jackson’s film gives the impression that this is some sort of punishment for Pippin following the incident in which he gazed into the Palantir of Orthanc and was seen by Sauron, and there is no doubt that part of Gandalf’s purpose in taking Pippin with him was to put as much distance as possible between Pippin and the Palantir; but Tolkien describes a more complex, even tender, relationship between the ancient wizard and the young hobbit. There is a sense in which Gandalf actually needs Pippin’s company as he approaches the great crisis of his time in Middle-earth. We remember Gandalf’s words to Merry as Théoden’s company rode from Isengard after its fall, “All Wizards should have a hobbit or two in their care- to teach them the meaning of the word, and to correct them”. (The Two Towers p.768) They were words half spoken in jest, but they hid a deeper truth. Gandalf lived a life devoted to the care of the peoples of Middle-earth, even having pity for the slaves of Sauron, but perhaps none of those people were more important to him than the people of the Shire, holding a special place in his heart. After all, none of the peoples of Middle-earth apart from hobbits knew of his skill as a maker of fireworks, and it was hobbits who taught him the pleasure of pipe smoking, an art that requires a measure of stillness if you are to practice it properly.

So, as they ride to war in Gondor, Pippin grounds Gandalf in the true purpose of their journey together. Not to achieve some great plan, some strategic action for a geopolitical end, but an act of mercy to bring succour to a beleaguered people in Minas Tirith. Bearing his ring of fire, Gandalf will warm the hearts of the defenders of the West in their greatest need, and Pippin will warm his heart.

Gandalf brings fire to Minas Tirith, but as they ride suddenly they see fire on the tops of the mountains of Anórien. Pippin is afraid, “are there dragons in this land?”

Gandalf replies with even greater urgency: “On, Shadowfax! We must hasten. Time is short. See! The beacons of Gondor are alight, calling for aid. War is kindled.”

It was in the year 2510 of the Third Age that Eorl the Young, Lord of the Rohirrim, made his great ride from the northern lands at the head of his men and won the Battle of the Field of Celebrant over a host of orcs and easterlings who had come from Sauron’s fortress of Dol Guldur in the south of Mirkwood to assail Gondor. After the battle Eorl met with Cirion, Steward of Gondor, at the secret tomb of Elendil and they swore an oath to one another. Cirion gave the fields of Calenardhon to Eorl and his people as a possession until the “Great King” should return, and for his part Eorl swore this oath:

“I vow in my own name and on behalf of the Éothéod of the North that between us and the Great People of the West there shall be friendship for ever: their enemies shall be our enemies, their need shall be our need, and whatsoever evil, or threat, or assault may come upon them we will aid them to the utmost end of our strength. This vow shall descend to my heirs, all such as may come after me in our new land, and let them keep it in faith unbroken, lest the Shadow fall upon them and they become accursed.” (Unfinished Tales by J.R.R Tolkien, George Allen and Unwin 1980 pp. 301-305)

The beacons of Gondor are lit before Gandalf and Pippin arrive in Minas Tirith, not as an accident but because of the order of Denethor, and Théoden will come “to the utmost end” of his strength, because he holds the oath of his ancestor to be sacred.

Gandalf has warmed the heart of the King of Rohan, enabling him to lead his people to a mighty victory over Saruman, and Théoden will come to Gondor’s aid. Now can Gandalf warm the heart of the people of Gondor to resist until aid comes to them?

“The Gate was Shut. Sam Hurled Himself Against the Bolted Brazen Plates and Fell Senseless to the Ground. He Was Out in the Darkness. Frodo Was Alive but Taken By The Enemy.” Where Can We Find Wisdom in the Ending of The Two Towers?

/ stephencwinter / 8 Comments

The Two Towers by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991, 2007) pp. 964-971

The Lord of the Rings is a book filled with wisdom. Often this is explicit, for example, the moment when Gandalf says to Frodo in the study in Bag End, in speaking of his decision to show mercy to Gollum, that “even the wise cannot see all ends”; and often it is expressed through the actions of wise figures in the story. But in the final pages of The Two Towers we see Sam’s desperate but ultimately futile efforts to catch up with the orcs who have taken Frodo’s body, and we overhear a conversation between Shagrat and Gorbag, the two commanders of the orc companies of Cirith Ungola and Minas Morgul. We learn much from what they say, especially the fact that Frodo is still alive, but we do not learn much wisdom. That is unless you count it as a kind of wisdom to learn from Shagrat and Gorbag how to survive in a world in which the only thing that matters is power.

Let us determine right here that we do not wish to learn the wisdom of the orcs. That even if the time might come in which they and their masters rule the world we will continue to refuse to live by their example and to continue to choose to speak truth, seek for beauty wherever we can find it, and to do whatever good we can, even if we have to pay for this choice with our lives.

We have made our choice. It is the choice that Sam makes in the Nameless Land, and continues to make, even when Frodo becomes incapable of making any choice beyond taking one step of excruciating pain after another. But what of the choices that Sam makes in the last pages of The Two Towers? Can we find any wisdom here?

I said in my last post on this blog that Sam is probably not capable of constructing an argument from first principles. I think that I may have been unfair to him. Listen to these words that he says to himself he learns that Frodo is still alive.

“I got it all wrong!” he cried. “I knew I would. Now they’ve got him, the devils! the filth! Never leave your master, never, never: that was my right rule. And I knew it in my heart. May I be forgiven! Now I’ve got to get back to him. Somehow, somehow!”

These are brave words, even heroic, but are they wise? What would have happened if brave Sam had been found beside Frodo’s body, or in making a futile effort to carry it to a place of safety? I think that we know the answer. Either the orcs would have carried two prisoners off to Barad-dûr or they would have taken Frodo alive while leaving his faithful servant dead upon the path. Sam would have died bravely, maybe even leaving some orcs dead around his body, but Frodo would still be a prisoner and the Ring would have been found. All would have been for nothing.

As it is, Frodo may have been taken but Sam is still free and the Ring has not been found. And as we will see when we next return to their story in The Return of the King, not only will the orcs have carried Frodo into Mordor but on finding his priceless mithril coat a fight for its possession will break out between the orcs of Cirith Ungol and of Minas Morgul and Sam will be able to rescue Frodo without having to strike a single blow.

So what wisdom can we learn? Do we learn that all thought, all planning, is useless? That everything that happens in the world is merely one random event after another? Of course not. Sam is only there to take advantage of his luck because he is deeply principled. If he was guided merely by self interest he would be back in the Shire offering his support to Lotho Sackville-Baggins as he seizes control through a coup d’etat. He would simply swap one master for another. No, it is essential that Sam is a hobbit who loves Frodo, and who seeks truth, beauty and goodness, even and, perhaps most especially, in the darkest places. Sam maybe unaware of the Power that is at work in the world, the Power that meant Bilbo to find the Ring and Frodo to receive it from Bilbo. His only prayer is that the Lady, that is Galadriel, will look after his master. We might think that this prayer is less than adequate but it is honoured nonetheless. Perhaps at the end what we do learn is that the deepest wisdom is not cleverness but goodness. It is Sam’s goodness that is honoured, so that when the gate of Cirith Ungol is opened to him he can enter and set Frodo free.

“I Can’t Be Their Ring-bearer. Not Without Mr. Frodo.” The Orcs of Cirith Ungol and Minas Morgul Take Frodo’s Body and Sam Decides to Follow Them.

/ stephencwinter / 6 Comments

The Two Towers by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991, 2007) pp. 960-963

No sooner does Sam take the Ring from Frodo and take his first few faltering steps towards Mount Doom weighed down by the terrible burden that he now bears than everything suddenly changes.

“”And then suddenly he heard cries and voices. He stood still as stone Orc voices. They were behind him and before him. A noise of tramping feet and harsh shouts.”

Sam’s first instinct is to protect himself. There is no place for him to hide and so he decides to put on the Ring. That was Sam’s first instinct. His second is awakened a few seconds later when the orcs discover Frodo’s body.

“With a dreadful stroke Sam was wakened from his cowering mood. They had seen his master. What would they do? He had heard tales of the orcs to make the blood run cold. It could not be borne. He sprung up. He flung the Quest and all his decisions away, and fear and doubt with them. He knew now where his place was and had been: at his master’s side, though what he could do their was not clear.”

I used the word, instinct, a moment ago, deliberately, because Sam is not a creature of profound thought. This is not to say that he is shallow. Not by any means. As we have seen throughout the story he is capable of deep insight. When he was in Lothlórien he described his experience there as being “inside a song.” In a few beautifully poetic words he was able to capture the essence of that wonderful place in a way that no philosophical discourse ever could. Indeed a philosopher might be so anxious to find appropriate language for the experience that its sheer immediacy would be lost. And Tolkien played a beautiful language game with his readers with those words. Sam speaks to Frodo and to us in the Old English of simple country folk when he speaks of being inside a song. If he had used the language of his French speaking betters he would have spoken of being enchanted, for that is exactly what his words meant. I am not convinced that if he had used that word he would have conveyed to us his experience nearly so well.

But we should not ask Sam to reach a conclusion by means of starting with first principles because Sam has never learned to think that way. A few minutes later, as Shagrat and Gorbag and their orc companies carry Frodo towards Cirith Ungol Sam will learn that Frodo is not dead, that Shelob has a poison that renders her prey immobile so that she can eat it live later on at her leisure. Sam reels with horror when he realises that he had abandoned Frodo alive and then he says to himself:

“You fool, he isn’t dead and your heart knew it. Don’t trust your head, Samwise, it’s not the best part of you.”

Sam has only one principle and that is love. Not that this makes life easy for him. Sam loves Frodo but not exclusively. He gave his love to Bill the Pony and so found his heart torn in two when Bill refused to enter Moria. His love is given to the Gaffer, his father, and so when he sees him in Galadriel’s mirror, being driven from his home by Saruman’s thugs, again his heart is torn in two. To live for the sake of love as Sam does so completely means that he will always have to live with the danger that his heart will be broken. But now amidst the chaos as Frodo is borne into Mordor by his orc captors Sam’s heart grants him complete simplicity. He will follow Frodo and lay down his life for him. Providence will have to do the rest.

And Providence, or Luck, or Wyrd, as Sam understands it, will do exactly that. What Frodo’s captors find on his body, especially his priceless mithril coat, will lead to the annihilation of the orc company so that Sam will be able to rescue him without having to strike a single blow. The orcs only work will be to carry Frodo into Mordor itself and Sam’s work will be to follow where his heart leads him. What began in Shelob’s Lair when the light that was first captured by Feänor when he crafted the Silmarils shattered the monster’s eternal darkness, is a chain of events that will take the hobbits into Mordor and then on to Mount Doom itself.