Chapter 11: The Palantír
Jacob's Thoughts (8/30/15)
So ends Book III! And what a way to end--the battle has been won only for us to be reminded that the war is far from over. As Gandalf frames it: "So we fly--not from danger but into greater danger." Expertly handled, Tolkien: I've waited so impatiently to at last return to the adventures of Master Frodo and Samwise Gamgee, only for me to be left hungry to find out what happens next to Peregrin Took, of all people!
That cliffhanger is especially expert because the first part of this chapter initially felt like a dull return to the plodding wordiness of "Road to Isengard" and "Flotsam and Jetsam"--I began to fear that from here on out, chapters like "The Voice of Saruman" would be exception, not the rule. But then the eye of Sauron appears, the Nazgul desecrate the sky, and the war-party's leisurely trot across the plains suddenly becomes a mad dash through the night. Tolkien knows how to move when he feels like it!
As for the vision in the titular palantír: Sauron's gloating laugh over poor Pippin was of special interest to me, particularly given my discussion of Gandalf's cutting laugh against Saruman in the previous chapter. There is nothing that Sauron cannot turn to evil use, and laughter is one of them; and whereas Gandalf uses it to punch up and puncture the powerful, Sauron uses it to punch down and oppress the weak. It is the difference between the humor of the generous verses the humor of the cruel; indeed, whenever I read of some politician or comedian complaining about how "political correctness" is hampering humor, I've realized what they're actually complaining about is how they can no longer get away with being as big of pricks as they'd like to be--and the fact that they can't imagine comedy without cruelty speaks volumes about their own crooked character. That is, I bet Sauron ain't big on "political correctness" either. What a fascinating compare and contrast.
Also of interest: we finally get a brief discussion in how exactly Gandalf the White differs from Gandalf the Grey. It's not much, but Merry's "He can be both kinder and more alarming, merrier and more solemn than before" still seems to communicate something profound. The description reminds me of what Maslow wrote of the "self-actualized" in Motivation and Personality--how they can be both more light-hearted yet also somber, both more generous yet also more ruthless in ending friendships they perceive as corrupted, are quick and accurate judges of character, and are as comfortable leading as they are submiting (which we see with Gandalf's bow to Aragorn). All these feel like apt descriptions of Gandalf the White--if not Gandalf the Gray.
For I vaguely recall us discussing clear back in Book I how Gandalf the Grey is frankly a bit of dick. But here, whereas early Gandalf would have rapped Pippin's ears for letting himself get seduced by the palantír, now Gandalf's "face grew gentler, and the shadow of a smile appeared. He laid his hand softly on Pippin's head." That is, Gandalf has become self-actualized in Maslow's model--though boy has he ever earned it! But then, it's not an actualization that ever comes cheap; indeed, it has been my experience generally that the most genuine, kind, and generous people I have ever met are the ones who have passed through the most searing pain, who have seen the most. It is petty small-mindedness that makes us cruel (as shown by Sauron's obsession with that tiny ring); it is a broad-mindedness born of soul-expanding tragedy that makes us generous.
We are now half way to the end. I stop here waiting for you. Until Book IV, gentlemen.
Eric's Thoughts (8/31/15)
The title of this chapter tells you immediately what is going to happen: that Pippin is going to have a second look at the crystal ball. The execution does not disappoint. For a couple of pages Pippin wonders aloud what's in the crystal ball, and Merry tells him to mind his own business. It's the stuff of wizards, he says, so you best forget about it. Pippin tosses and turns, and can't forget about it.
Instead, he tip-toes over to Gandalf and puts a palantir-sized rock in Gandalf's hands while Gandalf snores. This is a scene that we have all read before a million times, but we love it each time. It reminds us when we would sneak cookies from on top of the fridge. (Yes, I am guilty of this too.)
The crystal ball is revealed to be a telephone by which Saruman had been speed-dial chatting with Sauron. Gandalf also speculates that this was the fall of Saruman.
I guess Saruman should have chosen his speed-dial more carefully. Perhaps Tolkien's message here is that we should choose our friends more carefully. The people we talk to have the biggest influence on us. Saruman shouldn't have kept talking with Sauron. Perhaps if he had just said, "you know, Sauron, I really like you, and all, but I just can't hang out with you anymore. You don't support my values," then this never would have happened.
The problem is, that once Saruman had beheld evil, he could not turn away. The images and despair of inevitable defeat drove him to conclude, logically, that to join with Sauron's juggernaut was the only viable option. In a Citizens United world, these themes are still applicable today.
Ben's Thoughts (9/17/15)
It's nice how this chapter is such a smooth transition back into the minds of the hobbits. Tolkien is prepping us for our reintroduction to Frodo and Sam in the next book; he eases us into it with the point of view shifting the Merry and Pippin here. After all the time being spent with Aragorn and Friends, who ostensibly know most of what is going on (Aragorn more so than Gimli, of course), it's strange to be back in the heads of the hobbits, who know so little about what is happening and what will be expected of them. In a way, they are just "rag-tag," following Gandalf's tailcoats; it may sting a little, but Merry at least recognizes that very clearly. Pippin is of course more pragmatic about it: "Our whole life for months has been one long meddling in the affairs of wizards." In a way, it's good to be back with you, hobbits. Especially now that the annoying jolly duo of Merry and Pippin is about to be split up for a while.
Pippin and Merry get quite a bit of character development in these few pages, with their separate takes on their situation and Pippin's focus on the "glass ball" that turns out to be quite a serious matter indeed. I wonder if Merry would have been so quick to fall under the spell of the palantír; Merry is just so much more pragmatic and sensible, it seems doubtful to me that the allure of the unknown would have been able to snare him as easily as it did Pippin. Pippin was always the hobbit excited about "adventures," while Merry embarked on the quest out of solidarity with his cousin Frodo. As Gandalf notes at the end of the chapter, "You knew you were behaving wrongly and foolishly; and you told yourself so, though you did not listen." But Pippin's impulsiveness turns out to be for the benefit of the good guys; what would have happened if Gandalf had been the first to gaze into the palantír?
In any case, Pippin gets a heck of a sendoff at the end of the chapter, with one of Tolkien's most beautiful conclusory lines in the entire trilogy: "As he fell slowly into sleep, Pippin had a strange feeling: he and Gandalf were still as stones, seated upon the statute of a running horse, while the world rolled away beneath his feet with a great noise of wind." Things are moving fast now; Saruman has been dealt with and now the true enemy is upon them. It's time to deal with Sauron face to face.
And does the Lord of all evil come off particularly well in this chapter? No, not really, in my estimation. Instead of taking the time to extract any really useful information from Pippin, when he has him under his control, he just jumps to some hasty conclusions and tortures him for fun for a little bit before releasing him. Sauron's undoing will be what we stated before -- he is so sure that the Ring will be used against him by one of the Great or Wise that he never considers the peril approaching his own land. He is so confident that he knows exactly how Pippin and the palantír fit into things that he doesn't bother to confirm his idea; he just proceeds, arrogantly believing that his assumptions are gospel truth. Sauron, for all his power, does not seem very self-aware. He has no concept of his own limitations; his own blind spots. Maybe that's because he is alone at the pinnacle of his own success? He has no confidants, no trusted advisors. He is absolute, and thus he is solitary. So the very existance of absolute power is its own undoing, in Tolkien's portrayal of the Dark Lord, because he cannot possibly be aware of his own weaknesses without others to point them out to him.
We'll learn more and more about Sauron's tactics and points of view in the coming books. I'm interested in analyzing further where he goes wrong and what we can learn from it. And I'm also excited to rejoin my preferred characters within the more contemplative, but more emotionally and thematically expansive Book IV.
So ends Book III! And what a way to end--the battle has been won only for us to be reminded that the war is far from over. As Gandalf frames it: "So we fly--not from danger but into greater danger." Expertly handled, Tolkien: I've waited so impatiently to at last return to the adventures of Master Frodo and Samwise Gamgee, only for me to be left hungry to find out what happens next to Peregrin Took, of all people!
That cliffhanger is especially expert because the first part of this chapter initially felt like a dull return to the plodding wordiness of "Road to Isengard" and "Flotsam and Jetsam"--I began to fear that from here on out, chapters like "The Voice of Saruman" would be exception, not the rule. But then the eye of Sauron appears, the Nazgul desecrate the sky, and the war-party's leisurely trot across the plains suddenly becomes a mad dash through the night. Tolkien knows how to move when he feels like it!
As for the vision in the titular palantír: Sauron's gloating laugh over poor Pippin was of special interest to me, particularly given my discussion of Gandalf's cutting laugh against Saruman in the previous chapter. There is nothing that Sauron cannot turn to evil use, and laughter is one of them; and whereas Gandalf uses it to punch up and puncture the powerful, Sauron uses it to punch down and oppress the weak. It is the difference between the humor of the generous verses the humor of the cruel; indeed, whenever I read of some politician or comedian complaining about how "political correctness" is hampering humor, I've realized what they're actually complaining about is how they can no longer get away with being as big of pricks as they'd like to be--and the fact that they can't imagine comedy without cruelty speaks volumes about their own crooked character. That is, I bet Sauron ain't big on "political correctness" either. What a fascinating compare and contrast.
Also of interest: we finally get a brief discussion in how exactly Gandalf the White differs from Gandalf the Grey. It's not much, but Merry's "He can be both kinder and more alarming, merrier and more solemn than before" still seems to communicate something profound. The description reminds me of what Maslow wrote of the "self-actualized" in Motivation and Personality--how they can be both more light-hearted yet also somber, both more generous yet also more ruthless in ending friendships they perceive as corrupted, are quick and accurate judges of character, and are as comfortable leading as they are submiting (which we see with Gandalf's bow to Aragorn). All these feel like apt descriptions of Gandalf the White--if not Gandalf the Gray.
For I vaguely recall us discussing clear back in Book I how Gandalf the Grey is frankly a bit of dick. But here, whereas early Gandalf would have rapped Pippin's ears for letting himself get seduced by the palantír, now Gandalf's "face grew gentler, and the shadow of a smile appeared. He laid his hand softly on Pippin's head." That is, Gandalf has become self-actualized in Maslow's model--though boy has he ever earned it! But then, it's not an actualization that ever comes cheap; indeed, it has been my experience generally that the most genuine, kind, and generous people I have ever met are the ones who have passed through the most searing pain, who have seen the most. It is petty small-mindedness that makes us cruel (as shown by Sauron's obsession with that tiny ring); it is a broad-mindedness born of soul-expanding tragedy that makes us generous.
We are now half way to the end. I stop here waiting for you. Until Book IV, gentlemen.
Eric's Thoughts (8/31/15)
The title of this chapter tells you immediately what is going to happen: that Pippin is going to have a second look at the crystal ball. The execution does not disappoint. For a couple of pages Pippin wonders aloud what's in the crystal ball, and Merry tells him to mind his own business. It's the stuff of wizards, he says, so you best forget about it. Pippin tosses and turns, and can't forget about it.
Instead, he tip-toes over to Gandalf and puts a palantir-sized rock in Gandalf's hands while Gandalf snores. This is a scene that we have all read before a million times, but we love it each time. It reminds us when we would sneak cookies from on top of the fridge. (Yes, I am guilty of this too.)
The crystal ball is revealed to be a telephone by which Saruman had been speed-dial chatting with Sauron. Gandalf also speculates that this was the fall of Saruman.
I guess Saruman should have chosen his speed-dial more carefully. Perhaps Tolkien's message here is that we should choose our friends more carefully. The people we talk to have the biggest influence on us. Saruman shouldn't have kept talking with Sauron. Perhaps if he had just said, "you know, Sauron, I really like you, and all, but I just can't hang out with you anymore. You don't support my values," then this never would have happened.
The problem is, that once Saruman had beheld evil, he could not turn away. The images and despair of inevitable defeat drove him to conclude, logically, that to join with Sauron's juggernaut was the only viable option. In a Citizens United world, these themes are still applicable today.
Ben's Thoughts (9/17/15)
It's nice how this chapter is such a smooth transition back into the minds of the hobbits. Tolkien is prepping us for our reintroduction to Frodo and Sam in the next book; he eases us into it with the point of view shifting the Merry and Pippin here. After all the time being spent with Aragorn and Friends, who ostensibly know most of what is going on (Aragorn more so than Gimli, of course), it's strange to be back in the heads of the hobbits, who know so little about what is happening and what will be expected of them. In a way, they are just "rag-tag," following Gandalf's tailcoats; it may sting a little, but Merry at least recognizes that very clearly. Pippin is of course more pragmatic about it: "Our whole life for months has been one long meddling in the affairs of wizards." In a way, it's good to be back with you, hobbits. Especially now that the annoying jolly duo of Merry and Pippin is about to be split up for a while.
Pippin and Merry get quite a bit of character development in these few pages, with their separate takes on their situation and Pippin's focus on the "glass ball" that turns out to be quite a serious matter indeed. I wonder if Merry would have been so quick to fall under the spell of the palantír; Merry is just so much more pragmatic and sensible, it seems doubtful to me that the allure of the unknown would have been able to snare him as easily as it did Pippin. Pippin was always the hobbit excited about "adventures," while Merry embarked on the quest out of solidarity with his cousin Frodo. As Gandalf notes at the end of the chapter, "You knew you were behaving wrongly and foolishly; and you told yourself so, though you did not listen." But Pippin's impulsiveness turns out to be for the benefit of the good guys; what would have happened if Gandalf had been the first to gaze into the palantír?
In any case, Pippin gets a heck of a sendoff at the end of the chapter, with one of Tolkien's most beautiful conclusory lines in the entire trilogy: "As he fell slowly into sleep, Pippin had a strange feeling: he and Gandalf were still as stones, seated upon the statute of a running horse, while the world rolled away beneath his feet with a great noise of wind." Things are moving fast now; Saruman has been dealt with and now the true enemy is upon them. It's time to deal with Sauron face to face.
And does the Lord of all evil come off particularly well in this chapter? No, not really, in my estimation. Instead of taking the time to extract any really useful information from Pippin, when he has him under his control, he just jumps to some hasty conclusions and tortures him for fun for a little bit before releasing him. Sauron's undoing will be what we stated before -- he is so sure that the Ring will be used against him by one of the Great or Wise that he never considers the peril approaching his own land. He is so confident that he knows exactly how Pippin and the palantír fit into things that he doesn't bother to confirm his idea; he just proceeds, arrogantly believing that his assumptions are gospel truth. Sauron, for all his power, does not seem very self-aware. He has no concept of his own limitations; his own blind spots. Maybe that's because he is alone at the pinnacle of his own success? He has no confidants, no trusted advisors. He is absolute, and thus he is solitary. So the very existance of absolute power is its own undoing, in Tolkien's portrayal of the Dark Lord, because he cannot possibly be aware of his own weaknesses without others to point them out to him.
We'll learn more and more about Sauron's tactics and points of view in the coming books. I'm interested in analyzing further where he goes wrong and what we can learn from it. And I'm also excited to rejoin my preferred characters within the more contemplative, but more emotionally and thematically expansive Book IV.
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