Chapter 2: The Council of Elrond
Jacob's Thoughts (5/22/14)
So last night I was watching the newer Ben Stiller "Walter Mitty" movie (and boy, did thatever take me back to college and watching the older Danny Kaye version with Eric and Ben), and it has one of those infuriating plot points that is super obvious to every last member of the audience except the protagonist, viz: the photo negative was in the wallet all along (it's a more convoluted plot than is worth elucidating here). As such, one spends most the film drumming one's fingers waiting for poor Walter to realize it as well. Yes, yes, "life is about the journey and not the destination" and other such facebook quote-wall claptrap, but when the denouement is so glaringly predictable, it kind of robs any of the intervening action of its tension and drive.
All of that was just a round about way of saying that when there's a rather inevitable plot arc in play, it can be difficult to stay invested; and that's the narrative danger in this chapter, as the titular Council of Elrond keeps circling through all of their possible options, working their way down a process of elimination (including what will hopefully be our last Tom Bombadil reference), only to arrive at last to where we all knew this would end--indeed, where this novel's title told us it would end--with the decision for Frodo et alto form a posse to carry the Ring to Mordor. Knock me over with a feather.
Nevertheless, this (unusually long) chapter still kinda works for me; part of it, I think, is the fact that Frodo and friends have been so largely incompetent throughout Book 1--and intentionally so on Tolkien's part, as underlined by Strider--that it will take some justification to keep our protagonist around for the next leg. Quite frankly, this Council could have justifiably said, "Look, Frodo, thanks for everything, but the professionals will take over now," sending Gandalf and Strider to Mordor without these hobbits to drag them down. Such a scene needn't have even come off as snide or condescending either, but as giving a thankful Frodo a much-needed break. I almost wonder if Tolkien briefly toyed with the idea himself, before quickly realizing that he couldn't just spend one whole Book investing in a protagonist that is then promptly sidelined in the next (he already did that with Bilbo, anyways).
So, the solution is to make it as justifiably clear as possible that Frodo must continue to Mordor, not merely for narrative convenience, nor even because the Campbellian Hero Cycle demands that this character arc be completed, but because narratively, it is in fact the soundest strategy, indeed, the only strategy. And given the length of this chapter, none need accuse Tolkien of not being thorough. (And given the creeping laziness in recent Hollywood films to lean on galaxy-sized plot holes--*cough Star Trek rebootcough*--I find Tolkien's old-fashioned thoroughness to be surprisingly refreshing).
Besides, as justifications go, I kinda like the rather simple elegance of Gandalf's reasoning for sending Frodo to Mordor: Sauron, great and wise and powerful though he may be, will never see it coming! And why not? Because it wouldn't ever even occur to Sauron that anyone would ever try to destroy the Ring! There's actually a sound bit of psychology behind that reasoning: a thief always assumes everyone else steals; a liar won't believe anyone else; and power-hungry Sauron assumes everyone is as power-hungry as him, and thus won't pass up the chance to wield a Ring of Power.
And it's not like Sauron doesn't have good data-points to back up that assumption: Gandalf's reveal of Saruman's treachery and betrayal, for example, has a sad sort of weary plausibility to it--for of course a great wizard would justify an alliance of convenience with Sauron by saying we could better control and mitigate him that way, as a "lesser of two evils" option, as though that made it all right. I only need recall all of the brutal dictators the U.S. has historically supported throughout Latin-America and the Middle-East under the pretense of "fighting communism" (and incidentally increasing American corporate profits) to see how repeatedly this justification gets deployed in real life, to great misery and suffering. Shoot, the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical Jesus Christ Superstar plays with the idea that Judas was seduced into betraying Christ when the Pharisees told him of all the "good" he could do, all the poor he could help, with that thirty pieces of silver. Sauron ain't exactly betting the farm when he assumes the worst of human self-interest.
Hence, this chapter also ultimately works for me (despite its meandering length), because of how Gandalf's reasoning has raised the stakes in a different way--for Gandalf is no longer just investing in poor little Frodo anymore, or even in the hidden tenacity of Hobbits generally, but in the very concept of decency altogether, that there is still enough of it left in Middle-Earth to trust in, with nothing less than the fate of Middle-Earth itself hanging in the balance--and the idea that Middle-Earth is even worth saving. Gandalf and Elrond really are betting the farm on this one.
Ben's Thoughts (6/2/14)
Reading this chapter with the foreknowledge that Frodo volunteers to take the Ring to Mordor at the end is somewhat depressing for me. He's so calm and happy at the beginning, secure in his belief that the wise folk of Rivendell are going to take this burden from him at any moment and leave him in peace to explore the valley and lead his life the way he wants to lead it. His interest in exploring the "pine woods" on the far side of the valley is the worst of it. Oh, Frodo, why didn't you go explore those woods while you had a chance?
Eric's Thoughts (6/5/14)
The flaw of this chapter is the sheer volume of names and irrelevant detail. Tolkien used this chapter to information-dump his mythology. Names never heard before by the reader sprout up, never heard of again (if I remember correctly) for the rest of the story, unless the reader reads the appendices and the Similarion (which when Tolkien published LOTR was not yet available).
As a result, I began to skim. Who are all these elf-lords? Elendil who? Keep in mind a first-time reader still hasn't even met Boromir or Legolas or Gimli. Just a ton of new names, even for one who long ago read the Similarion and recently the Hobbit. Reading this chapter was similar to reading through War and Peace, when the sheer mind-boggling amount of names in the first chapter overwhelms. Now, about 200 pages into War and Peace you finally start to figure out who is who, but still, no reader likes to be confused. Modern authors know better to slowly introduce one character at a time, especially if the character will prove important later on.
Now, something I was considering when reading was whether there is any benefit to all of this folklore. On some level, the large amount of backstory and material shoves the reader's face into the dirt and forces them to accept that this fantasy-world is real. By boring readers with the genealogy, ironically enough I think it increases the realism of the story. You certainly feel that this Ring business has been a lengthy affair by the end of the Council. But I still think cutting the fluff and lineage stuff would have been for the best. Readers at this point believe in the story, so I think the benefit derived from lineage and history just ultimately detracts. Reference a name or two, and maybe a little backstory, but what occurred here was overly excessive.
Another lingering question that "we" (maybe I just posed the question?) posed earlier on is whether Gandalf is an idiot. Letting Hobbits be chased by Dark riders certainly almost cost the good guys everything. So now we hear the explanation--that Gandalf ran off to Saruman instead of personally warning Frodo.
I still take the opinion that Gandalf was an idiot--on some level he concedes this, as he regrets his decision to go to Saruman. Trusting in a "fat-inkeeper's" letter to get Frodo going just doesn't make any sense. He suspects the black riders are hunting Frodo yet relies on a letter. We don't have a USPS post office yet with first-class certified mail, and so warning Frodo would be my first priority, and then I would go to Saruman for help. Of course, had Gandalf done the smart thing, we wouldn't have had a high stakes chase scene. So structurally it was important to eliminate Gandalf. I get it. But I still think Gandalf showed very poor judgment!
The confrontation between Saruman and Gandalf is delightful. Especially when Gandalf describes, just as summary, how Saruman went on and on about how the ends are what are important, not the means. And Gandalf retorts by asking tiredly whether Saruman dragged him all the way out here just to here that Mordor-drivel. Brilliant.
I read Jacob's post about how this chapter serves as a logical proof as to why the ring needs to go to Mordor. I agree that that's what this chapter is. The text states they can either hide it or destroy it. They eliminate the throwing-it-into-the-sea possibility by noting that it will only delay the problem. Boromir foreshadows his coming fall by suggesting that there was wisdom in Saruman by utilizing the ring to win. Elrond and Gandalf knock that possibility out of the park by pointing out it will only create a dark lord. Therefore, the only possibility is to destroy the ring.
A pretty ambitious plan. A lot of things could go wrong. I almost wonder if there wasn't wisdom in how Tolkien draws this chapter out so that the reader's wits feel tired from all of the names, and so that when the characters suggest taking it to Mordor, the reader is too tired at this point to put on this thinking cap and point out that that is a very stupid plan. By this point, the reader is willing to accept any plan just to escape from this chapter.
So last night I was watching the newer Ben Stiller "Walter Mitty" movie (and boy, did thatever take me back to college and watching the older Danny Kaye version with Eric and Ben), and it has one of those infuriating plot points that is super obvious to every last member of the audience except the protagonist, viz: the photo negative was in the wallet all along (it's a more convoluted plot than is worth elucidating here). As such, one spends most the film drumming one's fingers waiting for poor Walter to realize it as well. Yes, yes, "life is about the journey and not the destination" and other such facebook quote-wall claptrap, but when the denouement is so glaringly predictable, it kind of robs any of the intervening action of its tension and drive.
All of that was just a round about way of saying that when there's a rather inevitable plot arc in play, it can be difficult to stay invested; and that's the narrative danger in this chapter, as the titular Council of Elrond keeps circling through all of their possible options, working their way down a process of elimination (including what will hopefully be our last Tom Bombadil reference), only to arrive at last to where we all knew this would end--indeed, where this novel's title told us it would end--with the decision for Frodo et alto form a posse to carry the Ring to Mordor. Knock me over with a feather.
Nevertheless, this (unusually long) chapter still kinda works for me; part of it, I think, is the fact that Frodo and friends have been so largely incompetent throughout Book 1--and intentionally so on Tolkien's part, as underlined by Strider--that it will take some justification to keep our protagonist around for the next leg. Quite frankly, this Council could have justifiably said, "Look, Frodo, thanks for everything, but the professionals will take over now," sending Gandalf and Strider to Mordor without these hobbits to drag them down. Such a scene needn't have even come off as snide or condescending either, but as giving a thankful Frodo a much-needed break. I almost wonder if Tolkien briefly toyed with the idea himself, before quickly realizing that he couldn't just spend one whole Book investing in a protagonist that is then promptly sidelined in the next (he already did that with Bilbo, anyways).
So, the solution is to make it as justifiably clear as possible that Frodo must continue to Mordor, not merely for narrative convenience, nor even because the Campbellian Hero Cycle demands that this character arc be completed, but because narratively, it is in fact the soundest strategy, indeed, the only strategy. And given the length of this chapter, none need accuse Tolkien of not being thorough. (And given the creeping laziness in recent Hollywood films to lean on galaxy-sized plot holes--*cough Star Trek rebootcough*--I find Tolkien's old-fashioned thoroughness to be surprisingly refreshing).
Besides, as justifications go, I kinda like the rather simple elegance of Gandalf's reasoning for sending Frodo to Mordor: Sauron, great and wise and powerful though he may be, will never see it coming! And why not? Because it wouldn't ever even occur to Sauron that anyone would ever try to destroy the Ring! There's actually a sound bit of psychology behind that reasoning: a thief always assumes everyone else steals; a liar won't believe anyone else; and power-hungry Sauron assumes everyone is as power-hungry as him, and thus won't pass up the chance to wield a Ring of Power.
And it's not like Sauron doesn't have good data-points to back up that assumption: Gandalf's reveal of Saruman's treachery and betrayal, for example, has a sad sort of weary plausibility to it--for of course a great wizard would justify an alliance of convenience with Sauron by saying we could better control and mitigate him that way, as a "lesser of two evils" option, as though that made it all right. I only need recall all of the brutal dictators the U.S. has historically supported throughout Latin-America and the Middle-East under the pretense of "fighting communism" (and incidentally increasing American corporate profits) to see how repeatedly this justification gets deployed in real life, to great misery and suffering. Shoot, the Rodgers & Hammerstein musical Jesus Christ Superstar plays with the idea that Judas was seduced into betraying Christ when the Pharisees told him of all the "good" he could do, all the poor he could help, with that thirty pieces of silver. Sauron ain't exactly betting the farm when he assumes the worst of human self-interest.
Hence, this chapter also ultimately works for me (despite its meandering length), because of how Gandalf's reasoning has raised the stakes in a different way--for Gandalf is no longer just investing in poor little Frodo anymore, or even in the hidden tenacity of Hobbits generally, but in the very concept of decency altogether, that there is still enough of it left in Middle-Earth to trust in, with nothing less than the fate of Middle-Earth itself hanging in the balance--and the idea that Middle-Earth is even worth saving. Gandalf and Elrond really are betting the farm on this one.
Ben's Thoughts (6/2/14)
Reading this chapter with the foreknowledge that Frodo volunteers to take the Ring to Mordor at the end is somewhat depressing for me. He's so calm and happy at the beginning, secure in his belief that the wise folk of Rivendell are going to take this burden from him at any moment and leave him in peace to explore the valley and lead his life the way he wants to lead it. His interest in exploring the "pine woods" on the far side of the valley is the worst of it. Oh, Frodo, why didn't you go explore those woods while you had a chance?
Of course, it almost seems like Frodo is set up from the beginning to play this part, as Jacob alludes to. Right from the start, Elrond sits Frodo up next to him in a place of high honor, has everyone look at him, and tells the story of how brave and forthright the stalwart Hobbit was in getting the Ring this far. Plus, he already is the custodian of the Ring and there never seems any question about him giving it up to another individual (look especially at how much Gandalf and Elrond leap all over Boromir when he insinuates that he himself, or someone in the Council, should use the Ring as a weapon). Far from an "inevitability" due to the lack of other options, as Jacob writes about, I really believe that Gandalf and Elrond had the final outcome of the Council worked out from the get-go, with all the talking as just a formality to appease those on the outside. A cynical view, perhaps, but surely Gandalf wasn't really astonished at Frodo volunteering. What other choice did he have?
There are two main mini-narratives in this chapter that command the reader's attention. A third but obviously less important tangent is Glóin's story about the doings of Dáin's kingdom and the Dale-men. It serves to highlight the growing unrest in all of Middle-earth. The response of Sauron's messenger to Dáin's comment that his thoughts were still his own -- "For the present" -- is wonderfully sinister. Saruman explains Sauron's motivations a little bit later on in the chapter, and this comment seems to fall in line with that quite well: Sauron is all about gaining knowledge, rule, and above all, order. Sauron was originally a Maia tied to Aulë, the Vala of smithing, craftsmanship, and metallurgy. It makes sense that Sauron would be fixed upon structure and organization. These traits, taken to an extreme, go against the benevolent pastoralism that Tolkien seems to cherish most about the Hobbits and the Elves. Rules are good, and are generally for our protection and guidance, but when taken to a fascist extreme, are stifling and ultimately destructive. Of course Sauron, already at that extreme, would want to stifle the oft-unruly thoughts of the "lesser beings" he wished to bring under his sway.
Other than those choice tidbits dealing with Sauron's modus operandi, Glóin's narrative serves to foreshadow Moria, coming along in a few chapters. All of these names would be a bit confusing to a first-time reader, even one that had The Hobbit under his belt (I remembering being very confused about the apostrophe for emphasis over Glóin's name the first time I read the book. What was that little mark there for? It wasn't there in Hobbit!) Tolkien doesn't stop to explain these things; instead he continues at a breakneck pace through the Dwarven lingo (but oddly providing a "Shadow of the Past, Part Deux" recap of other parts of the history of the Second Age). On the other hand, the brief summary of the history of Gondor and Arnor serves as a good two-page preview of the Appendicies, and actually serves as a pretty good substitute for the reader not interested in tackling supplemental materials.
The chapter's real strengths lie in the narratives of Boromir and Gandalf, and then the denouement of Bilbo's rejected proposal to take the Ring and Frodo volunteering in his place. There is a lot of padding around the edges of the rest of it. As I mentioned before, I feel that Gandalf and Elrond -- or, if you prefer, Tolkien himself, as the writer -- knew how the chapter had to end right from the start, and everything that was said to get to that point was just a means to that end. The inevitability of it all doesn't do the chapter any favors, so these mini-stories are helpful in keeping the reader's attention.
Boromir's is quite interesting, simply because he is completely clueless as to anything happening outside of Gondor, and as such presents a completely different perspective on things that we haven't received before. Right off the bat, Boromir is clearly offended by Elrond's description of Gondor as a failing Númenorean kingdom, even though he himself is not a direct descendant of Isildur and is from a corrupted line. His pride and arrogance are palpable in his description of Gondor's efforts to stem the tides from Mordor: "By our valor . . . thus alone are peace and freedom maintained in the lands behind us." And this is said as if he hadn't just listened to Glóin's story about war mustering on the borders of the Dwarven kingdom and messengers openly proclaiming their connection to Mordor openly marching up to the gates of Erebor.
Tolkien does an excellent job of revealing a lot about Boromir's character and his relationships with his family and others around him in this single chapter. The supernatural dream (a much more bombastic vision than Frodo's; perhaps a different Vala is taking interest in the affairs of Gondor) that Boromir shares with the Council was sent several times to Faramir, Boromir's younger brother, and only once to Boromir, and yet Boromir basically gives Faramir the shaft and steals his quest, gallivanting off to find Imladris even though the message was sent to Faramir first and most. Makes you wonder what would have happened to the Fellowship if Faramir, instead of Boromir, had been sent. Also telling is that both brothers went to their father, Denethor, to interpret the dream.
Boromir, of course, probably thought that he would be the one to wield the Sword that was Broken; naturally it comes as a shock that not only is the sword spoken for, but it's bearer claims to be the heir of Isildur himself. The gulf that stands between Aragorn and Boromir is truly vast at this point; when Aragorn tells Boromir that "little do I resemble the images of Isildur and Anárion as they stand carven in the halls of Denethor", he is speaking from experience -- he has seen these statues in person and in fact served Denethor's father, Ecthelion, under another name before Boromir was even born. In contrast to Aragorn's quiet confidence, Boromir acts like the kid who won't shut up in class: he constantly brings up his belief that Gondor protects everyone there -- but after every boast, Elrond gently reminds him that there are others who fight and that Gondor is not the only thing holding Sauron back.
Gandalf's story is more straightforward, and is notable mainly for the introduction of our secondary antagonist, Saruman "of Many Colours" (I can't recall if that particular point is every brought up again, but certainly it's not important to the story, so I wonder why Tolkien dwells on it so much here. Although it does give Gandalf the nice understated zinger: "I liked white better." Speaking of dropped plot points, the ring on Saruman's finger (and his proclamation that he is "Saruman ring-maker") is never brought up again; nor is the fact that Gollum is apparently rescued by Sauron's forces rather than escaping on his own. That in particular is impossible to square with Gollum's later appearance and abject hatred of Sauron). The confrontation between the two wizards makes me wonder; how did Gandalf get so easily taken in by Sauron, when he was able to hold off the Black Riders with a flashy-light battle on Weathertop? Is Saruman the White just that much more powerful than Gandalf the Grey?
A final note on Saruman's history: it does make a certain degree of sense that Saruman would be taken in by Sauron's philosophy of knowledge, rule, and order. Saruman, like Sauron, is a Maia of Aulë, concerned with rock and metal and craft. Saruman was the first and most powerful of the Wizards to be sent to Middle-earth by the Vala to combat Sauron, but he was also the first to give up the agenda of traveling from group to group to lift spirits and inspire courage, and instead settled in Orthanc, tending to his own affairs and consolidating power (although still nominally on the side of the good guys as the leader of the White Council) nearly 400 years before this point. What's really amazing is that Gandalf et al didn't figure out Saruman's plans sooner. The "Wise" indeed.
My final note is on Frodo's acceptance and Elrond's little speech (which is totally ruined by Sam's appearance, by the way -- I know Sam volunteering thematically had to be snuck in here, but still; it just kills the moment). It really is quite beautiful, the silence that fills the room as each Council member contemplates the question: "Could I take the Ring to Mordor?" As Jacob noted, there's an inevitability to Frodo's decision. But it is not a hopeless one. As Elrond describes, in words that are useful for us all in hard times, the choice to destroy the Ring rather than the easier westward road "is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not. It is wisdom to recognize necessity, when all other courses have been weighed, though as folly it may appear to those who cling to false hope."
Eric's Thoughts (6/5/14)
The flaw of this chapter is the sheer volume of names and irrelevant detail. Tolkien used this chapter to information-dump his mythology. Names never heard before by the reader sprout up, never heard of again (if I remember correctly) for the rest of the story, unless the reader reads the appendices and the Similarion (which when Tolkien published LOTR was not yet available).
As a result, I began to skim. Who are all these elf-lords? Elendil who? Keep in mind a first-time reader still hasn't even met Boromir or Legolas or Gimli. Just a ton of new names, even for one who long ago read the Similarion and recently the Hobbit. Reading this chapter was similar to reading through War and Peace, when the sheer mind-boggling amount of names in the first chapter overwhelms. Now, about 200 pages into War and Peace you finally start to figure out who is who, but still, no reader likes to be confused. Modern authors know better to slowly introduce one character at a time, especially if the character will prove important later on.
Now, something I was considering when reading was whether there is any benefit to all of this folklore. On some level, the large amount of backstory and material shoves the reader's face into the dirt and forces them to accept that this fantasy-world is real. By boring readers with the genealogy, ironically enough I think it increases the realism of the story. You certainly feel that this Ring business has been a lengthy affair by the end of the Council. But I still think cutting the fluff and lineage stuff would have been for the best. Readers at this point believe in the story, so I think the benefit derived from lineage and history just ultimately detracts. Reference a name or two, and maybe a little backstory, but what occurred here was overly excessive.
Another lingering question that "we" (maybe I just posed the question?) posed earlier on is whether Gandalf is an idiot. Letting Hobbits be chased by Dark riders certainly almost cost the good guys everything. So now we hear the explanation--that Gandalf ran off to Saruman instead of personally warning Frodo.
I still take the opinion that Gandalf was an idiot--on some level he concedes this, as he regrets his decision to go to Saruman. Trusting in a "fat-inkeeper's" letter to get Frodo going just doesn't make any sense. He suspects the black riders are hunting Frodo yet relies on a letter. We don't have a USPS post office yet with first-class certified mail, and so warning Frodo would be my first priority, and then I would go to Saruman for help. Of course, had Gandalf done the smart thing, we wouldn't have had a high stakes chase scene. So structurally it was important to eliminate Gandalf. I get it. But I still think Gandalf showed very poor judgment!
The confrontation between Saruman and Gandalf is delightful. Especially when Gandalf describes, just as summary, how Saruman went on and on about how the ends are what are important, not the means. And Gandalf retorts by asking tiredly whether Saruman dragged him all the way out here just to here that Mordor-drivel. Brilliant.
I read Jacob's post about how this chapter serves as a logical proof as to why the ring needs to go to Mordor. I agree that that's what this chapter is. The text states they can either hide it or destroy it. They eliminate the throwing-it-into-the-sea possibility by noting that it will only delay the problem. Boromir foreshadows his coming fall by suggesting that there was wisdom in Saruman by utilizing the ring to win. Elrond and Gandalf knock that possibility out of the park by pointing out it will only create a dark lord. Therefore, the only possibility is to destroy the ring.
A pretty ambitious plan. A lot of things could go wrong. I almost wonder if there wasn't wisdom in how Tolkien draws this chapter out so that the reader's wits feel tired from all of the names, and so that when the characters suggest taking it to Mordor, the reader is too tired at this point to put on this thinking cap and point out that that is a very stupid plan. By this point, the reader is willing to accept any plan just to escape from this chapter.
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