Chapter 4: A Journey in the Dark
Jacob's Thoughts (6/22/14)
Gandalf is what stood out to me most in this chapter.
Yes, there's also the rich, immersive atmosphere of the mines of Moria (indeed, "The Old Forest" is already a forgotten memory); and there's the mounting sense of dread as they delve deeper into places where unnamed horrors far "fouler than orcs" reside; and there's the admittedly-awesome action sequences with the Wargs, as well as that Lovecraftian tentacled creature--all the more unnerving in its lack of a name--that snags after Frodofirst (a fact so frightening in implication that Gandalf will scarcely acknowledge it), then traps them inside a place so dark and dreary that even battle-hardened Aragorn is wary to enter; and to top it all off is the insinuation that dear Frodo's wound has not healed as completely as we were maybe led to believe, for he now senses more keenly the evil things hidden in the dark--as well as his sense that something is following them--which narratatively is effective in ratcheting up the tension in a chapter where, frankly, not much happens.
Because let's face it: not a whole lot actually occurs in this chapter. Putting aside a couple short action sequences and that very palpable, primal fear of the dark, not much reallyhappens. I don't mean that as a knock against this chapter, on the contrary: it speaks highly of Tolkien that I never once found myself skimming (not even during the poem!) throughout a chapter that doesn't feature much more than movement from point A to point B. I even felt bad for Sam when he had to say goodbye to Bill the pony--hardly a figure I'd gotten invested in.
Of course, these chapters are about so much more than mere movement from A to B--there is also the wonderful character development; for besides the aforementioned forebodings about Frodo's wound, we also get to see the beginning of the rivalry between Gimli and Legolas (as they trade barbs about which side first ruined relations between the Elves and the Dwarves), which as we all know will ultimately blossom into one of the most delightful bromances in fiction. But for my money, far more interesting (and subtle) isGandalf's character development in this chapter--and his foreshadowing.
His power up till now has mostly been hidden--the Shire folk who didn't know better had always just assumed him some eccentric "conjurer of cheap tricks" for example. Through his frequent absences in both The Hobbit and Book I of Fellowship we began to sense that he's a figure of some importance away on more pressing matters, and his presence on major counsels, and his intimacy with important-sounding people, begin to confirm our suspicions of his prominence; but we've rarely gotten to see him in real action. We aretold about his thrilling escape from Saruman, and he tells Frodo of how he added the flourish of the horses on the waves that wiped out the Dark Riders, but we are nevershown him doing any of these things! The full extant of his power remains shrouded in mere rumor and hearsay.
Someone please correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the first chapter where we begin to actually witness Gandalf the wizard in action. In that fight against the Wargs for example, we are told of how he appeared to grow larger than his usual stature--in fact, when he utters his terrible threats against the Warg leader, one senses that Gandalf has the ability to back those oaths up. Likewise, as the Fellowship comes before that password-protected magic door, we casually learn how Gandalf has memorized every spell in every language of Middle-Earth going back ages. Suddenly this wizard's intellect expands before us in all its staggering magnitude.
(On a side note, the reveal that "speak friend and enter" is just a password-hint from a more trusting, innocent age, far from feeling cutesy, instead had for me a deep melancholy about it, as a marker of how long and how far their world has fallen into darkness).
Once inside the darkness of Moria, one quickly gets the sense that if it were not for Gandalf, the entire Fellowship would be irremediably lost--and not just cause Gandalf is the only one with a light source (itself rather startling). The man has knowledge and skills far beyond all of them combined, such that he begins to feel like the lynchpin of this entire Quest. Now that we have a taste of Gandalf's abilities, we are well set up for both the believability of his battle with the Balrog in the next chapter, as well as for the gut punch of his loss by the end. It is as though we are now given a glimpse of his powers just in time for them to be snuffed out, and thus feel the full extent of that loss for our poor heroes--though I'm also genuinely curious as to how much savvy readers of the '50s sensed that this, the beginning of Gandalf's arc, had still to be completed in the novels to follow. For one can't just simply hint at Gandalf's full power without any follow-through--this Chekov's gun, while about to be taken from the stage, still needs to be fired.
Ben's Thoughts (8/10/14)
This chapter is Gandalf's. It's nice that the wizard finally gets his moment in the sun before what we know is inevitably coming around the corner in "The Bridge of Khazad-dûm," and here he really shines. His dry wit, his ability to lead and direct the Fellowship, and how generally awesome his world-weariness-cum-experience comes across powerfully to the reader. Gandalf always was a bit of a cipher in The Hobbit, as his role as Bilbo's "wise and helpful guide" forced him to take a back-seat position more often than not in the narrative. But in Moria, Gandalf is in the thick of his "great task," as Elrond described it, and gets to show forth his powers and personality in ways only hinted at previously.
Onward to the meat of the chapter. Tolkien does a good job communicating how crushing the "defeat" on Caradhras must have been for the Fellowship, but I'm a bit confused just why that was so. Gandalf even mentions the possibility of returning to Rivendell. This doesn't make any sense -- not being able to clear the pass is disheartening, but hardly the crushing blow it's made out to be. Additionally, I find it interesting that Gandalf insinuates that Sauron and Saruman are aware that the Ring is on the move. How could they possibly know that? Sauron doesn't sense the Ring even when it approaches his own borders and crosses the Mountains of Ash right near Minas Morgul and Kirith Ungol -- how could he tell it has left Rivendell? Perhaps it's because Gandalf is on the move; Gandalf also implies that he himself is like a beacon to those who know what to look for. I suppose it would make sense that Sauron would think that the Ring would be with or near Gandalf. In any case, the logic Gandalf utilizes to convince the company to dive into Moria is a bit tortured; why should there be any greater risk in nearing Saruman's territory, when the Ring will eventually have to be brought into Sauron's backyard if they are to chuck the thing in Mount Doom? From the rest of the book, it's quite clear that every passage to Mordor is being watched, from Moria to the Anduin River to the Gap of Rohan. So why take the most dangerous passage by far? …For the purposes of the plot, of course. Frodo has to go off on his own, and Aragorn has to become king. For this to happen, Gandalf has to be temporarily removed from the narrative. Not the most elegant solution, but it works. Plus, the Moria chapters are some of the most powerfully atmospheric (and contain some of the most intense action) of the entire novel. I suppose we can forgive the convoluted way that the Fellowship decides to take that route.
The warg attack on the camp is a fun prelude to the crazy action of Moria. From Tolkien's descriptions -- that the creatures only have a "wolf-shape" instead of being proper "wolves," and Gandalf's invocation of the warg leader as the "foul hound of Sauron," it's clear that these are not ordinary wolves. What they are remains unclear; perhaps they are in some way connected with Carcharoth, Morgoth's favorite pet from The Silmarillion, who seems to have been a Maia of some sort. Even though the company makes fairly short work of them, this section ratchets up the creepiness factor with the revelation that the next morning, all the dead wolves have vanished, leaving Legolas' Elvish arrows behind them. It is interesting to see that Gandalf's contribution to the fight wasn't running around with his sword or zapping wolves with his staff, but simple illumination, hope, and courage in the midst of a tense situation. This of course mirrors the entirety of his mission in Middle-earth. This boost for those around him is also reflected in a quieter way in the "wards of guard and guiding" he provides for Bill the pony before sending him on his way. Gandalf cares about all the creatures under his protection.
Speaking of creepy, what about that Watcher in the Water? What IS that thing? "Luminous" tentacles? "Luminous" tentacles with hands on the ends? …gives me the shivers. Tolkien is a master of this kind of suspense… it's clear from the moment the company spots that water that something horrible is in there. You're just waiting for the other shoe to drop. What is interesting is that it seems that the Watcher just wants to be left alone; it doesn't try to kill anyone or come raging after the Fellowship after they head through the gates of Moria; instead it tears down the gates and shuts them in. (Completely changed in the Peter Jackson movie, of course, where the Watcher becomes "generic movie Kraken" and the encounter becomes a 5-minute action sequence, complete with Frodo flying through the air and Aragorn bravely wading into the water to hack tentacles off. Ugh.) The creature obviously has some sense of the Ring and its importance, though, or it wouldn't have grabbed Frodo "out of all the company." A very effective scene.
Characterization is mostly forward-moving in this chapter. Gimli remains well-drawn; his excitement to see the Mines and the assistance he gives Gandalf works well. Boromir, in keeping with past characterization, is obviously impatient with the choice to go into the Mines, and doesn't have a lot of faith in Gandalf's leadership. Legolas unfortunately remains flat; I bet he won't get any kind of development until Lothlórien. Frodo gets extrasensory perception in this chapter; he knows to be afraid of the pool before anyone else, and he's able to hear/feel that Gollum is following the company once they are in the Mines. It's unclear what the source of these powers is. Is it the Ring? The fact that Frodo was partially transformed into a wraith? Or is it a gift from the Valar? Speculation is basically hopeless, since Tolkien doesn't care to elaborate. I'll have to keep an eye out for future hints. Sam does get badly mischaracterized at one point, unfortunately; he is excited at the prospect of returning to Rivendell and "sinks back into gloom" when that option is rejected. Really, Sam is the one who should be all for pushing on with stalwart courage. Pippin would have been a better choice if one of the Hobbits had wanted to turn back. Tolkien does get it right later, when it takes Pippin a while to summon the courage to leap over the gap in the Mines.
Aragorn comes more the fore-front in this chapter, first with his warning to Gandalf, and then later with his quiet support of Gandalf in the Mines. It's important to remember that these two are very old friends, and have been on many journeys together. At one point Frodo reflects that he doesn't really know Gandalf very well at all; while they are friends, the true nature of Gandalf's character and mission are hid from the Shire-folk. Aragorn, however, knows Gandalf very well. This places a lot of import on Aragorn's plea that Gandalf not enter the Mines; not necessarily because it will place the company at risk, but because of the danger to Gandalf himself. This also gives another subtle showcase of Aragorn's power; he can get a sense of the future to some degree. Later, in the Mines, Aragorn is described as "grim and silent" -- he comes across as über-confident, but much more personable, kind, and reassuring than Boromir.
All in all, this chapter is a masterful one. After the excitement of the fight with the Wargs and the horror of the Watcher in the Water, the Mines come across as beautiful and horrible at the same time. The chapter also conveys the deep history of the Dwarves through Gimli's song and Gandalf's story about mithril. This is tied back nicely to The Hobbit and Bilbo's gift of his coat of rings. The mention of "Durin's Bane," at a point when a first-time reader has no clue what that might be, is also suitably creepy. The reader knows that entering the Mines will have some consequences at some point, and from the moment the Fellowship steps inside the gates, he is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Frodo's revelation that something has begun to follow them, and the hammer-tapping after Pippin foolishly drops the stone (or is somehow compelled to drop it?) down the well adds to the reader's disquiet.
All in all, the chapter balances nostalgia, fear, sentiment, horror, and mounting tension throughout. It is a wonderful "calm before the storm" of the next chapter, where everything set up here pays off in a big way. I'll close with a few quotes: first the passage where Tolkien describes the Fellowship through their footfalls. An unorthodox way of doing it, but an effective one; it's stuck with me practically verbatim through the years.
Eric's Thoughts (8/19/14)
What a great chapter. ‘Journey in the Dark’ is Tolkien-heroin at its best. This is exactly why I loved these books as a kid.
Gandalf is what stood out to me most in this chapter.
Yes, there's also the rich, immersive atmosphere of the mines of Moria (indeed, "The Old Forest" is already a forgotten memory); and there's the mounting sense of dread as they delve deeper into places where unnamed horrors far "fouler than orcs" reside; and there's the admittedly-awesome action sequences with the Wargs, as well as that Lovecraftian tentacled creature--all the more unnerving in its lack of a name--that snags after Frodofirst (a fact so frightening in implication that Gandalf will scarcely acknowledge it), then traps them inside a place so dark and dreary that even battle-hardened Aragorn is wary to enter; and to top it all off is the insinuation that dear Frodo's wound has not healed as completely as we were maybe led to believe, for he now senses more keenly the evil things hidden in the dark--as well as his sense that something is following them--which narratatively is effective in ratcheting up the tension in a chapter where, frankly, not much happens.
Because let's face it: not a whole lot actually occurs in this chapter. Putting aside a couple short action sequences and that very palpable, primal fear of the dark, not much reallyhappens. I don't mean that as a knock against this chapter, on the contrary: it speaks highly of Tolkien that I never once found myself skimming (not even during the poem!) throughout a chapter that doesn't feature much more than movement from point A to point B. I even felt bad for Sam when he had to say goodbye to Bill the pony--hardly a figure I'd gotten invested in.
Of course, these chapters are about so much more than mere movement from A to B--there is also the wonderful character development; for besides the aforementioned forebodings about Frodo's wound, we also get to see the beginning of the rivalry between Gimli and Legolas (as they trade barbs about which side first ruined relations between the Elves and the Dwarves), which as we all know will ultimately blossom into one of the most delightful bromances in fiction. But for my money, far more interesting (and subtle) isGandalf's character development in this chapter--and his foreshadowing.
His power up till now has mostly been hidden--the Shire folk who didn't know better had always just assumed him some eccentric "conjurer of cheap tricks" for example. Through his frequent absences in both The Hobbit and Book I of Fellowship we began to sense that he's a figure of some importance away on more pressing matters, and his presence on major counsels, and his intimacy with important-sounding people, begin to confirm our suspicions of his prominence; but we've rarely gotten to see him in real action. We aretold about his thrilling escape from Saruman, and he tells Frodo of how he added the flourish of the horses on the waves that wiped out the Dark Riders, but we are nevershown him doing any of these things! The full extant of his power remains shrouded in mere rumor and hearsay.
Someone please correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the first chapter where we begin to actually witness Gandalf the wizard in action. In that fight against the Wargs for example, we are told of how he appeared to grow larger than his usual stature--in fact, when he utters his terrible threats against the Warg leader, one senses that Gandalf has the ability to back those oaths up. Likewise, as the Fellowship comes before that password-protected magic door, we casually learn how Gandalf has memorized every spell in every language of Middle-Earth going back ages. Suddenly this wizard's intellect expands before us in all its staggering magnitude.
(On a side note, the reveal that "speak friend and enter" is just a password-hint from a more trusting, innocent age, far from feeling cutesy, instead had for me a deep melancholy about it, as a marker of how long and how far their world has fallen into darkness).
Once inside the darkness of Moria, one quickly gets the sense that if it were not for Gandalf, the entire Fellowship would be irremediably lost--and not just cause Gandalf is the only one with a light source (itself rather startling). The man has knowledge and skills far beyond all of them combined, such that he begins to feel like the lynchpin of this entire Quest. Now that we have a taste of Gandalf's abilities, we are well set up for both the believability of his battle with the Balrog in the next chapter, as well as for the gut punch of his loss by the end. It is as though we are now given a glimpse of his powers just in time for them to be snuffed out, and thus feel the full extent of that loss for our poor heroes--though I'm also genuinely curious as to how much savvy readers of the '50s sensed that this, the beginning of Gandalf's arc, had still to be completed in the novels to follow. For one can't just simply hint at Gandalf's full power without any follow-through--this Chekov's gun, while about to be taken from the stage, still needs to be fired.
Ben's Thoughts (8/10/14)
This chapter is Gandalf's. It's nice that the wizard finally gets his moment in the sun before what we know is inevitably coming around the corner in "The Bridge of Khazad-dûm," and here he really shines. His dry wit, his ability to lead and direct the Fellowship, and how generally awesome his world-weariness-cum-experience comes across powerfully to the reader. Gandalf always was a bit of a cipher in The Hobbit, as his role as Bilbo's "wise and helpful guide" forced him to take a back-seat position more often than not in the narrative. But in Moria, Gandalf is in the thick of his "great task," as Elrond described it, and gets to show forth his powers and personality in ways only hinted at previously.
Onward to the meat of the chapter. Tolkien does a good job communicating how crushing the "defeat" on Caradhras must have been for the Fellowship, but I'm a bit confused just why that was so. Gandalf even mentions the possibility of returning to Rivendell. This doesn't make any sense -- not being able to clear the pass is disheartening, but hardly the crushing blow it's made out to be. Additionally, I find it interesting that Gandalf insinuates that Sauron and Saruman are aware that the Ring is on the move. How could they possibly know that? Sauron doesn't sense the Ring even when it approaches his own borders and crosses the Mountains of Ash right near Minas Morgul and Kirith Ungol -- how could he tell it has left Rivendell? Perhaps it's because Gandalf is on the move; Gandalf also implies that he himself is like a beacon to those who know what to look for. I suppose it would make sense that Sauron would think that the Ring would be with or near Gandalf. In any case, the logic Gandalf utilizes to convince the company to dive into Moria is a bit tortured; why should there be any greater risk in nearing Saruman's territory, when the Ring will eventually have to be brought into Sauron's backyard if they are to chuck the thing in Mount Doom? From the rest of the book, it's quite clear that every passage to Mordor is being watched, from Moria to the Anduin River to the Gap of Rohan. So why take the most dangerous passage by far? …For the purposes of the plot, of course. Frodo has to go off on his own, and Aragorn has to become king. For this to happen, Gandalf has to be temporarily removed from the narrative. Not the most elegant solution, but it works. Plus, the Moria chapters are some of the most powerfully atmospheric (and contain some of the most intense action) of the entire novel. I suppose we can forgive the convoluted way that the Fellowship decides to take that route.
The warg attack on the camp is a fun prelude to the crazy action of Moria. From Tolkien's descriptions -- that the creatures only have a "wolf-shape" instead of being proper "wolves," and Gandalf's invocation of the warg leader as the "foul hound of Sauron," it's clear that these are not ordinary wolves. What they are remains unclear; perhaps they are in some way connected with Carcharoth, Morgoth's favorite pet from The Silmarillion, who seems to have been a Maia of some sort. Even though the company makes fairly short work of them, this section ratchets up the creepiness factor with the revelation that the next morning, all the dead wolves have vanished, leaving Legolas' Elvish arrows behind them. It is interesting to see that Gandalf's contribution to the fight wasn't running around with his sword or zapping wolves with his staff, but simple illumination, hope, and courage in the midst of a tense situation. This of course mirrors the entirety of his mission in Middle-earth. This boost for those around him is also reflected in a quieter way in the "wards of guard and guiding" he provides for Bill the pony before sending him on his way. Gandalf cares about all the creatures under his protection.
Speaking of creepy, what about that Watcher in the Water? What IS that thing? "Luminous" tentacles? "Luminous" tentacles with hands on the ends? …gives me the shivers. Tolkien is a master of this kind of suspense… it's clear from the moment the company spots that water that something horrible is in there. You're just waiting for the other shoe to drop. What is interesting is that it seems that the Watcher just wants to be left alone; it doesn't try to kill anyone or come raging after the Fellowship after they head through the gates of Moria; instead it tears down the gates and shuts them in. (Completely changed in the Peter Jackson movie, of course, where the Watcher becomes "generic movie Kraken" and the encounter becomes a 5-minute action sequence, complete with Frodo flying through the air and Aragorn bravely wading into the water to hack tentacles off. Ugh.) The creature obviously has some sense of the Ring and its importance, though, or it wouldn't have grabbed Frodo "out of all the company." A very effective scene.
Characterization is mostly forward-moving in this chapter. Gimli remains well-drawn; his excitement to see the Mines and the assistance he gives Gandalf works well. Boromir, in keeping with past characterization, is obviously impatient with the choice to go into the Mines, and doesn't have a lot of faith in Gandalf's leadership. Legolas unfortunately remains flat; I bet he won't get any kind of development until Lothlórien. Frodo gets extrasensory perception in this chapter; he knows to be afraid of the pool before anyone else, and he's able to hear/feel that Gollum is following the company once they are in the Mines. It's unclear what the source of these powers is. Is it the Ring? The fact that Frodo was partially transformed into a wraith? Or is it a gift from the Valar? Speculation is basically hopeless, since Tolkien doesn't care to elaborate. I'll have to keep an eye out for future hints. Sam does get badly mischaracterized at one point, unfortunately; he is excited at the prospect of returning to Rivendell and "sinks back into gloom" when that option is rejected. Really, Sam is the one who should be all for pushing on with stalwart courage. Pippin would have been a better choice if one of the Hobbits had wanted to turn back. Tolkien does get it right later, when it takes Pippin a while to summon the courage to leap over the gap in the Mines.
Aragorn comes more the fore-front in this chapter, first with his warning to Gandalf, and then later with his quiet support of Gandalf in the Mines. It's important to remember that these two are very old friends, and have been on many journeys together. At one point Frodo reflects that he doesn't really know Gandalf very well at all; while they are friends, the true nature of Gandalf's character and mission are hid from the Shire-folk. Aragorn, however, knows Gandalf very well. This places a lot of import on Aragorn's plea that Gandalf not enter the Mines; not necessarily because it will place the company at risk, but because of the danger to Gandalf himself. This also gives another subtle showcase of Aragorn's power; he can get a sense of the future to some degree. Later, in the Mines, Aragorn is described as "grim and silent" -- he comes across as über-confident, but much more personable, kind, and reassuring than Boromir.
All in all, this chapter is a masterful one. After the excitement of the fight with the Wargs and the horror of the Watcher in the Water, the Mines come across as beautiful and horrible at the same time. The chapter also conveys the deep history of the Dwarves through Gimli's song and Gandalf's story about mithril. This is tied back nicely to The Hobbit and Bilbo's gift of his coat of rings. The mention of "Durin's Bane," at a point when a first-time reader has no clue what that might be, is also suitably creepy. The reader knows that entering the Mines will have some consequences at some point, and from the moment the Fellowship steps inside the gates, he is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Frodo's revelation that something has begun to follow them, and the hammer-tapping after Pippin foolishly drops the stone (or is somehow compelled to drop it?) down the well adds to the reader's disquiet.
All in all, the chapter balances nostalgia, fear, sentiment, horror, and mounting tension throughout. It is a wonderful "calm before the storm" of the next chapter, where everything set up here pays off in a big way. I'll close with a few quotes: first the passage where Tolkien describes the Fellowship through their footfalls. An unorthodox way of doing it, but an effective one; it's stuck with me practically verbatim through the years.
"There was no sound but the sound of their own feet; the dull stump of Gimli's dwarf-boots; the heavy tread of Boromir; the light step of Legolas; the soft, scarce-heard patter of hobbit-feet; and in the rear the slow firm footfalls of Aragorn with his long stride."And because Gandalf wasn't included in that description, here's a beautiful description of the wizard in the midst of a chapter that could be considered his swan song:
"The last thing that Pippin saw, as sleep took him, was a dark glimpse of the old wizard huddled on the floor, shielding a glowing chip in his gnarled hands between his knees. The flicker for a moment showed his sharp nose, and the puff of smoke."Simplicity and elegance of writing. A lesser writer would have done more; here Tolkien conveys a lot with very little.
Eric's Thoughts (8/19/14)
What a great chapter. ‘Journey in the Dark’ is Tolkien-heroin at its best. This is exactly why I loved these books as a kid.
After the failure of scaling the mountain, the Company has essentially been boxed in and forced into the Underworld. They cross a creepy lake, and the ripples in the water foreshadow an unpleasant beast living in it. My first thought when I was reading was: ah, Tolkien, the monster was a nice touch to scare children, but there’s a plot hole. How would a giant 'watcher of the water' come to live in a lake that’s isolated from any moving bodies like rivers and streams? Gotcha there, Tolkien!
To my utter horror and delight, the text directly answers that question and says that the beast crawled up from Moria and has come to inhabit the lake. I felt like a fool—the creature simply crawled in after leaving Moria. Duh. Touche, Tolkien, touche.
To my utter horror and delight, the text directly answers that question and says that the beast crawled up from Moria and has come to inhabit the lake. I felt like a fool—the creature simply crawled in after leaving Moria. Duh. Touche, Tolkien, touche.
And since we’re talking about fools, Gandalf of course has the best lines of the chapter, when he name calls Pippin for knocking a stone down a shaft. ‘Fool of a Took!’ Gandalf growled. ‘This is a serious journey, not a hobbit walking-party. Throw yourself in next time, and then you will be no further nuisance. Now be quiet!’
There’s great snippets of imagery as well: “The last thing that Pippin saw, as sleep took him, was a dark glimpse of the old wizard huddled on the floor, shielding a glowing chip in his gnarled hands between his knees. The flicker for a moment showed his sharp nose, and the puff of smoke.”
I skimmed over Jacob and Ben’s thoughts on this chapter and they pretty well capture a lot of the thoughts I was having when I was reading it. So maybe something I could add is that this chapter represents a classic point in the Hero’s Journey, or Campbell’s monomyth.
In the monomyth, the hero must descend into the underworld, which is a classic story trope. For example, in the Odyssey, Odysseus goes into the underworld to seek information, giving blood in exchange for information. In Hercules the son of Zeus goes down to bring back someone from the dead. In Batman, Bruce Wayne descends into a cave to retrieve his toys and become Batman. (I jest, I jest.) In LOTR, the Company must descend into the Underworld to come out the other side. They are not seeking information, or resurrection, or even toys, but are instead overcoming (or should I say undercoming?) geography.
I guess there’s not really much to say about the monomyth except that here’s an example of it. The old Frodo dies down here when he’s stabbed, and a new hobbit will emerge, one that is willing to leave his friends. The Mines eliminate the handholder Gandalf, and force Frodo to come to terms that the Company will fail, and that he's going to have to become a hero on his own.
This chapter is all foreshadowing, to the tap-tap sounds of other creatures, to the hints of Gollum. It all ends with a cliffhanger of Balin being declared dead. “‘He is dead then,’ said Frodo. ‘I feared it was so.’ Gimli cast his hood over his face.”
The suspense here is real. Steven King once said that to scare someone you merely describe mundane reality for 95% of the time, all the while foreshadowing, and then suddenly bring out the ghost. This chapter is nothing but dark and quiet suspense, from the watcher of the water boxing them in, to the dark climb through Moria, seeing nothing except seven foot chasms that they have to jump across. While I was reading, I was wondering if I would have the nerve to jump a seven foot chasm that fell forever. This is exactly what a writer wants a reader to do: question if THEY would have the nerve to do it.
There were fissures and chasms in the walls and floor, and every now and then a crack would open right before their feet. The widest was more than seven feet across, and it was long before Pippin could summon enough courage to leap over the dreadful gap. The noise of churning water came up from far below, as if some great mill-wheel was turning in the depths. ‘Rope!’ muttered Sam. ‘I knew I’d want it, if I hadn’t got it!’
I think this is the first time that I authentically wanted to immediately read on to the next chapter, but of course I didn’t so I could write this blog post!
No comments:
Post a Comment