Friday, November 25, 2016

"The Pyre of Denethor" - Jacob's Thoughts

As near as I can tell, the sin of Denethor is two-fold.  First and most obvious is Pride, particularly his arrogance in attempting to wield one of the Palantirs; as Gandalf succinctly glosses it:

"In the days of his wisdom Denethor did not presume to use it, nor to challenge Sauron, knowing the limits of his own strength.  But his wisdom failed; and I fear that as the peril of his realm grew he looked in the Stone and was deceived...He was too great to be subdued to the will of the Dark Power, he saw nonetheless only those things that Power permitted him to see...the vision of the great might of Mordor that was shown to him fed the despair of his heart until it overthrew his mind" (161).

Apparently, Denethor was the first victim of psychological warfare; Sauron knew he needn't convert Denethor as he did Saruman, only demoralize him, which he effects by presenting a wide-array of cherry-picked intell calculated to convince Denethor of the futility of fighting, infecting him with defeatism and despair. Like Hawthorne's "Young Goodman Brown," Denethor has been tricked into thinking he resists the Devil in the very moment that he succumbs to him.

Denethor in his pride thought he could match wills with the Dark Lord, but failed; what's more, his pride (like all pride) was fueled primarily by fear--for he had always known better than to look into the Palantir, but his nerves in the end got the best of him.  There are a number of moralistic lessons to be gleaned from this passage, viz: pessimism is a greater enemy than armies; know your limits; never do anything out of fear; question your sources; etc. and etc.   Maybe (just for kicks and giggles) we can even consider Denethor's fall as a parable about the need to get off the internet, reading the Palantir as a forerunner to the social-media echo-chambers that keep us trapped in our own rage-fueled, paranoid myopias and so forth.

But Pride is only one component of the sin of Denethor, and I think the bigger reason why he succumbs to despair is actually highlighted just a few pages earlier, when Gandalf demands of him, "What then would you have...if your will could have its way?"

Almost petulantly, Denethor answers, "I would have things as they were in all the days of my life...and in the days of my long-fathers before me..."  (158).  At the risk of politicizing a tad here, Denethor wants to Make Gondor Great Again--he wants things back to how he imagines they always used to be, and probably never were.  We are not privy to what exactly Sauron showed Denethor in the Palantir, but I have my suspicions that it wasn't just the military might of Mordor that shock-and-awed the Steward of Gondor into submission: I think Sauron also showed Denethor a world wherein he doesn't matter anymore.  A changed world, one where there is no need for Stewards or rival realms or what have you, where his entire "way of life" (to borrow a Bushism) is rendered irrelevant.

I suspect that it wasn't just the rise of Mordor or even the threat to Gondor that most shook Denethor, but simply the realization that the world was never going to go back to the way it was.  Even if Mordor is totally defeated, Middle-Earth is still going to be fundamentally different from how it was, and it is this fact that proud Denethor cannot abide.  Whether Sauron or Aragorn comes out on top, in either case Denethor does not, and so he throws a fit like it's the end of the world, because it is the end of his privileged little world.  It is not just change for the worse, but any change whatsoever that most frightens him--and like many a voter last Election Day, he has lashed out against the changing face of the world in the most self-destructive ways possible.

Monday, November 21, 2016

"The Muster of Rohan" - Eric's Thoughts

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. If Lord of the Rings started with Return of the King, I would guess no one would ever read on.

As Ben and Jacob have noted, this chapter, among others before it, are obviously transitional chapters bridging the characters from the battle of pelennor fields to where they were before. To refresh everyone on what happened here, the chapter involves moving the riders towards Minas Tirith, Merry eating with the King, Merry almost being left behind, and Merry being picked up by a rider called Dernhelm.

Sadly, like the chapters that come before it, something is lacking that makes the prose lack an "oomph" factor. My initial thought is that it lacks a compelling POV character to drive at least an emotional arc while the external conflict itself is non-existent. Merry, not developed as a character, seems to be a poor choice to drive the narrative.

That's not to say that there aren't a few moments that are interesting. For me the most compelling part is when a messenger shows up from Minas Tirith and begs for aid from Théoden. King Théoden rises to the challenge and summons the army -- wait for it -- which (disappointingly) is only 6,000 strong.

And that goes to another problem. Something I found really odd is how few men the forces of good seem to have -- yet they manage to put up a fierce resistence to the supposedly numberless hordes of Sauron. Perhaps that just goes to human tenacity, but personally I think it's a plot whole. It almost suggests that Sauron doesn't have that much either, say like 30,000-50,000 troops at best. That's nothing to sneer at, but in a modern world of over 5 billion people, Sauron would have significant trouble conquering even Alaska (population 736,732). If anything, the low amount of "Team Gandalf" forces seems to suggest the Dark Lord himself is not really that powerful. (Especially since that paltry force breaks Sauron's forces in Pelennor.)

"The Muster of Rohan" - Ben's Thoughts

The cardinal sin of this chapter is not that it's bad, like "Grey Company" -- it's that it's boring.

What happens: The company arrives at Dunharrow; Merry hears an old legend about the Paths of the Dead, that doesn't add anything to what we learned in the last chapter; the errand-rider arrives and asks Theoden to come to Minas Tirith, which we already knew was his plan; Merry is not allowed to come with; and a mysterious rider lets Merry ride with him to come anyway.

So essentially, not very much. There's a song thrown in, that isn't an "in-narrative" song like many from "Fellowship" (i.e. something far better fit in an appendix, or footnote, or something other than the text itself, but heaven forbid Tolkien excise one of his songs), and a legend with a spooky maybe statue-maybe really old guy, that ties in with the skeleton we saw in the last chapter. But other than that, there's a lot of talking, they travel from one place to another place, more talking, then more traveling begins.

Part of me is sympathetic because of the Gordian knot that Tolkien's plotting has presented him with: he doesn't want to leave Merry in the lurch, and how else can he get Merry to Minas Tirith without exiling him, and Theoden and Eowyn, from the narrative for several chapters? My thought, for what it's worth, is that this chapter should have been trimmed down to maybe a page, and inserted in "The Ride of the Rohirrim" as an extended flashback, with Merry contemplating "the trip so far", particularly his first contact with Eowyn as Dernhelm. I think that would have moved the book along at a better clip, with only one boring chapter in between the two more thematically and narratively rich Minas Tirith chapters.

I will say two nice things about the chapter, however. One: Tolkien once again manages to convey his sense of history as palimpsest -- the Rohirrim has settled into their lands, after the previous peoples were swept away by the tides of history. Their songs, tales, their very reason for being, has vanished in the mists of time. Merry gets a sense of that loss as he regards the Pukel-men statues: "[N]o power or terror was left in [the statues]; but Merry gazed at them with wonder and a feeling almost of pity, as they loomed up mournfully in the dusk." This theme is one that he continually circles back to: civilizations crumble; entropy abounds; no-one, mortal or elf-kind, can escape from it. It is one of the overarching themes of LOTR, and one that resonates powerfully with the reader.

Two: Tolkien's prose shines through; his descriptions and landscapes remain utterly masterful. What a sense of scope and wonder he evokes, in describing the White Mountains and Merry's descent into the valley:
It was a skyless world, in which his eye, through dim gulfs of shadowy air, saw only ever-mounting slopes, great walls of stone behind great walls, and frowning precipices wreathed with mist. He sat for a moment half dreaming, listening to the noise of water, the whisper of dark trees, the crack of stone, and the vast waiting silence that brooded behind all sound. He loved mountains, or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from far away; but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth. He longed to shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire.
Of course, Merry's a bit of a wimp. I'm not sure if he's truly reflecting Tolkien's mindset, but this sense of wanting to escape the majesty, the enormity, of the natural world is nothing that resonates with me. I would be right at home in the vastness of Middle-earth.

Friday, November 18, 2016

"The Passing of the Grey Company" - Ben's Thoughts

I honestly think that part of me was delaying writing about this chapter because it is just plain bad.

I can envision Tolkien faced with a plot-based conundrum at this point in "Return of the King." He needs to bring his various characters together at the two-thirds point of Book V at Minas Tirith, with the pivotal battle scene of "Pellenor Fields." Tolkien was a writer who jumped around, and without consulting the copious published material detailing the intricacies of the writing process of Lord of the Rings, I feel confident in my guess that "Pellenor Fields" was written long before these transitional chapters. The dilemma was, how to get the characters to that point?

Previous books, while not strictly episodic, nevertheless consisted of related episodes attached to a wider narrative. In the journey of the Fellowship in Book II, we had Rivendell - Moria - Lorien - River - Breaking. Separate setpieces, each transitioning smoothly into the other. In Book III, we had the similar structure of Chase - Fangorn - Rohirrim - Helm's Deep - Isengard. There was padding in there, but still a clear narrative flow. Now in Book V, Tolkien has "Pellenor Fields" and "The Black Gate Opens," the finale leading into Book VI... and the big question of what to do in between.

The result is a series of stilted episodes, each lacking the passion, cinematic quality, and cohesion of that of previous books. The best bits are reserved for Minas Tirith, where Tolkien at least has fully realized characters in Denethor and Faramir (not to mention Gandalf) to fall back on. Sadly, the Dunedain, Elladan and Elorhir, the Dead, and yes, even Theoden in these sections are not fully realized characters. They are mere sketches.

So Tolkien doesn't want Aragorn to just ride along with Theoden to Minas Tirith, he needs him to arrive in suitably heroic fashion, as befitting a returning king, and if he has an adventure to pad out a chapter or two in the process, so much the better. So he sends Aragorn through the Paths of the Dead; but to get to the Paths, he has to know that there's a danger growing in the sound (the corsairs of Umbar); but to know that, he has to use the Palantir; but to use the Palantir, he has to wrest it away from Sauron; and wow, this is getting really complicated, let's not show the struggle with Sauron on-screen, let's have Gimli be the POV character (even though he was just fine with Aragorn being the POV in "Two Towers" -- Tolkien's reluctance to have Aragorn be the POV from this point on is quite frustrating and something I will probably address in later chapters), and let's have the journey through the Paths to be kinda creepy but with nothing much really happening and Aragorn doesn't have to do any convincing of the Dead, they're all just ready to follow him to Pelargir.

Suffice it to say, this kind of plotting does not a masterful chapter make. Similar plotting in later chapters does not a masterful Book V make.

Tolkien does get one thing right, however: Aragorn's conversation with Eowyn. Say what you will about Tolkien's male-centric tale: when Eowyn takes center stage, as she does here, I feel like he genuinely portrays a feminist perspective. Here is Eowyn, as powerful as she can get in a patriarchy like the Rohirrim (given charge over the affairs of the kingdom while the king rides off to war). And yet, she remains constrained, powerless, unable to effectuate real change in her life: "Shall I always be left behind when the Riders depart, to mind the house while they win renown, and find food and beds when they return?" she asks. Then, when Aragorn tries to pass her off with a platitude about the honor of service on the homefront, she shoots back: "All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house."

Of course, Tolkien manages to undercut it with having Eowyn fall madly in love with Aragorn on the basis of their two interactions, but the fact remains that it's a ballsy move to have one of your main male protagonists needled like this by a female character. From a feminist perspective, if you can weed through the problematic parts of the Aragorn-Eowyn interaction, there's some striking words there. And it is important to note that Eowyn proves Aragorn wrong: her part is not in the home, as she proves later at the Pellenor.

I think we've all expressed our frustration about these chapters. Unfortunately they keep going for a while. On to the next.