Chapter 3: The Uruk-Hai
Jacob's Thoughts (3/7/15)
So I once read something by Tolkien's old friend C.S. Lewis (I think it was a preface toThe Screwtape Letters), wherein Lewis gave his theory of Hell as a place where everyone is trying to consume everyone else. Besides being a sadly apt description of our late-capitalist global economy, this theory has stuck with me because it also explains why Hell is so miserably self-defeating.
I bring this up because, up till now, Mordor has just been so frighteningly competent, right? The Nazgul are terrifyingly efficient, Mordor's spies are everywhere, their forces grow exponentially, and they always seem to be at least a step ahead of our heroes. We've discussed before how Sauron's goal is total control over everything and everyone, and he appears to be well on his way to accomplishing so. I don't know the mythology near as well as Ben, but I have to think Sauron actually thinks of himself as the goodguy, the epic hero, the one who brings absolute order to this world of interminable chaos. Sauron has probably been able to attract so many forces and allies precisely because he promises them total power over others.
Key word: Others.
Because the key flaw, the inherent vice, in this quest for total power is that the sort of people most attracted to it mainly only want it over others, not over themselves. And thus when someone else wants the same power that you want, even a nominal ally, your entire system becomes unstable.
We see the first cracks in Mordor's philosophy of power in this chapter, as we follow the Uruk-Hai running across the plains with Merry and Pippin. We soon begin to learn that these orcs are not a disciplined unit, but a haphazard composite of Mordor and Sarumanian forces; supposedly they are all on the same side, but really they can barely stand each other. Their cruel taunts of Merry and Pippin are constantly interrupted by their own petty infighting and bickering. Everyone accuses each other of treachery, and/or of trying to cheat them out of their reward. The lead orc Uglúk must decapitate 2 goblins early on just to maintain his (very fragile) control.
Merry and Pippin are able to exploit this fundamental selfishness to trick an orc into separating them from the main group in exchange for a non-existent Ring--this, in fact, is how they escape. And though Tolkien does not state this explicitly, I have to suspect that the Riders of Rohan are able to so completely decimate the orcs and goblins precisely because the latter did not stand united when they fought back. But then why would they? They were never united in the first place, for they were all trying to consume each other. They willfully lived the doctrine of Hell, and they literally burn because of it.
I recall that Gandolf first sold everyone on carrying the Ring to Mordor because, quite simply, Sauron would never see it coming; Sauron desires is absolute power, and so it never occurs to him that anyone would want anything else. This blinds him to altruism, heroism, friendship, selflessness and self-sacrifice, and is thus how Frodo and Sam are able to sneak right under his nose. This also blinds him to the weakness of his own militias--for no matter how large his forces get, they will never be truly united, for they are will always be at each others throats. The Eye of Sauron sees much, but it does not see all.
I hereby posit that this is the first chapter wherein we get a hint of how Mordor can be defeated.
Ben's Thoughts (3/22/15)
I always get a kick out of seeing the internal workings of the "evil" characters in books like this. I want to learn about their motivations, about their power structures, about just how and why their evil plans are carried out. But, sadly, getting up close and personal with the run-of-the-mill henchmen of Sauron and Saruman in these chapters makes me wonder how Sauron, especially, got as far as he did with mooks like these on his side.
As Jacob astutely points out, most of these moronic orcs are just in it for themselves -- the Mordor and Moria orcs in particular. Power is something they've seen wielded by their superiors (Grishnákh's comments about the Nazgûl come to mind in particular; on that note, I can't remember if we've ever heard of the Nine referred to by this name previously, so the first-time reader might just be in the dark about what exactly Grishnákh is referring to there) and something that has been exercised over them, and so they want what they can't have; what the system is designed in a way so that they can never have. (Sounds like a variant of capitalism, doesn't it? Work really hard at obtaining what your "superiors" and "betters" already have, even though based on your birth and circumstances, it's not something you'll ever be able to attain!)
The trouble with this system, of course, is that the evil overlord will be betrayed in the first instance by his underlings. What would have happened if Grishnákh had actually gotten his filthy mitts on the Ring? His comments to Merry and Pippin seem to indicate that he would have taken it for himself, admiring comments about the Nazgûl notwithstanding. Of course, a little orc could never have really challenged Sauron himself, but it likely would have thrown a wrench in Sauron's works nonetheless, if to a lesser degree than if someone like Saruman had managed to claim it. I guess the Nine are more like physical extensions of Sauron's will than independent entities, but I guess it's hard for an evil overlord to find good help. Orcs are effective in numbers but they will betray you or run away in fear at the earliest opportunity if given half the chance.
Saruman's orcs, or Uglúk at least, do seem to be motivated by a twisted sense of loyalty or duty to Saruman himself. Uglúk states that they are "servants of Saruman the Wise, the White Hand: the Hand that gives us man's-flesh to eat." He genuinely seems to want to return the halflings to Saruman because Saruman was the one who created (bred? spawned from a test tube?) him. The Jackson films make explicit that Saruman is "breeding" an army in Orthanc, while the books leave it more ambiguous as to where exactly these "fighting Uruk-hai" are coming from. I wonder if Saruman somehow managed to instill this loyalty in the creation process, or if he really just does treat his orcs far nicer than Sauron does his orcs (as we see in later chapters, the Mordor orcs kill one another with glee and wild abandon, while these "Uruk-hai" seem fiercely united from start to finish).
I honestly don't have too much more to say about this chapter. Pippin doesn't have too much more going on in his head than was displayed in "Fellowship" from others' observations of him; I think it's telling that he still refers to Aragorn as "Strider" rather than by his true name. He at least has the foresight to plan their escape, but of course any kind of competent captors would have checked and double-checked his bonds multiple times a day. Merry comes across as rather dull thanks to his wounds, but he certainly does not hesitate to reassert his authority of his nitwit cousin once they are freed from the circle of Riders and need a place to go. As far as the orcs' operational procedures go, it's interesting to note the orc-drink as a twisted counterpart to the lembas from Lórien and the inspiring drink that Elrond gave Gandalf to help the Fellowship, and that the Moria orcs were recruited by Saruman but don't seem to have any particular allegiance to any great power without, shall we say, harsh motivation.
I know Tolkien is trying to say something about how greed and cruelty are the architects of their own destruction, which is something that a lot of evil overlords seem to have problems with in fantasy novels. It's something of a tired trope by this point, however, and it didn't do a whole lot for me this re-read. In any case, this kind of infighting will lead in part to Sauron's destruction in Book VI. And of course, if Sauron and Saruman had really worked together, they might have had a chance to stop the forces of Good. But of course Saruman could never really commit to just being a stooge; as Gandalf told Saruman, "only one hand at a time can wield the One." Poor Saruman. His game is already up at the end of this chapter -- he just doesn't know it yet.
Eric's Thoughts (5/16/15)
Ben and Jacob already covered my thoughts on this chapter pretty well. I have to say we seem to be on the same page.
I personally found fascinating the orc-salve that is used to heal Merry and Pippin, and the liquor they feed them that burns them inside but gives them vigor. That part came alive for me--for a moment I was Pippin, and imagined what it would be like to be imbued with harsh healing methods.
Certainly, it is a well-tried trope that evil characters are always trying to screw one another behind the scenes, and that they are only loyale insofar they can increase their own power, and your superior is useful, etc. I laughed at the capitalism example by Ben
In a way, you almost feel more sorry for the orcs than Pippin. Especially if you're at the top. Not only do you have cruel masters above you that will kill you and make an example out of you if they so much as think you've stepped out of line, but you also have alpha-wolf contests with your inferiors and have to constantly kill to stay alive. Indeed, the orcs are very much like a pack of dogs, where the alpha dog constantly is challenged, and one sign of weakness or an unlucky wound, and you'll be tomorrow's dinner. They certainly eat like dogs--foul food that Pippin and Merry won't touch. It's not good to be an orc -- you certainly won't be appreciated for who you are.
I think I can add a little backstory that might be helpful, here. We find out through blizzard entertainment that the orcs are a noble species, and that they were merely corrupted by a bunch of demons. Some literary scholar really ought to look into it, and they could figure out where the orcs really came from, and why it's a such a difficult life being an orc, and why the orcs were a noble species and got so corrupted. PhD dissertation, anyone?
So I once read something by Tolkien's old friend C.S. Lewis (I think it was a preface toThe Screwtape Letters), wherein Lewis gave his theory of Hell as a place where everyone is trying to consume everyone else. Besides being a sadly apt description of our late-capitalist global economy, this theory has stuck with me because it also explains why Hell is so miserably self-defeating.
I bring this up because, up till now, Mordor has just been so frighteningly competent, right? The Nazgul are terrifyingly efficient, Mordor's spies are everywhere, their forces grow exponentially, and they always seem to be at least a step ahead of our heroes. We've discussed before how Sauron's goal is total control over everything and everyone, and he appears to be well on his way to accomplishing so. I don't know the mythology near as well as Ben, but I have to think Sauron actually thinks of himself as the goodguy, the epic hero, the one who brings absolute order to this world of interminable chaos. Sauron has probably been able to attract so many forces and allies precisely because he promises them total power over others.
Key word: Others.
Because the key flaw, the inherent vice, in this quest for total power is that the sort of people most attracted to it mainly only want it over others, not over themselves. And thus when someone else wants the same power that you want, even a nominal ally, your entire system becomes unstable.
We see the first cracks in Mordor's philosophy of power in this chapter, as we follow the Uruk-Hai running across the plains with Merry and Pippin. We soon begin to learn that these orcs are not a disciplined unit, but a haphazard composite of Mordor and Sarumanian forces; supposedly they are all on the same side, but really they can barely stand each other. Their cruel taunts of Merry and Pippin are constantly interrupted by their own petty infighting and bickering. Everyone accuses each other of treachery, and/or of trying to cheat them out of their reward. The lead orc Uglúk must decapitate 2 goblins early on just to maintain his (very fragile) control.
Merry and Pippin are able to exploit this fundamental selfishness to trick an orc into separating them from the main group in exchange for a non-existent Ring--this, in fact, is how they escape. And though Tolkien does not state this explicitly, I have to suspect that the Riders of Rohan are able to so completely decimate the orcs and goblins precisely because the latter did not stand united when they fought back. But then why would they? They were never united in the first place, for they were all trying to consume each other. They willfully lived the doctrine of Hell, and they literally burn because of it.
I recall that Gandolf first sold everyone on carrying the Ring to Mordor because, quite simply, Sauron would never see it coming; Sauron desires is absolute power, and so it never occurs to him that anyone would want anything else. This blinds him to altruism, heroism, friendship, selflessness and self-sacrifice, and is thus how Frodo and Sam are able to sneak right under his nose. This also blinds him to the weakness of his own militias--for no matter how large his forces get, they will never be truly united, for they are will always be at each others throats. The Eye of Sauron sees much, but it does not see all.
I hereby posit that this is the first chapter wherein we get a hint of how Mordor can be defeated.
Ben's Thoughts (3/22/15)
I always get a kick out of seeing the internal workings of the "evil" characters in books like this. I want to learn about their motivations, about their power structures, about just how and why their evil plans are carried out. But, sadly, getting up close and personal with the run-of-the-mill henchmen of Sauron and Saruman in these chapters makes me wonder how Sauron, especially, got as far as he did with mooks like these on his side.
As Jacob astutely points out, most of these moronic orcs are just in it for themselves -- the Mordor and Moria orcs in particular. Power is something they've seen wielded by their superiors (Grishnákh's comments about the Nazgûl come to mind in particular; on that note, I can't remember if we've ever heard of the Nine referred to by this name previously, so the first-time reader might just be in the dark about what exactly Grishnákh is referring to there) and something that has been exercised over them, and so they want what they can't have; what the system is designed in a way so that they can never have. (Sounds like a variant of capitalism, doesn't it? Work really hard at obtaining what your "superiors" and "betters" already have, even though based on your birth and circumstances, it's not something you'll ever be able to attain!)
The trouble with this system, of course, is that the evil overlord will be betrayed in the first instance by his underlings. What would have happened if Grishnákh had actually gotten his filthy mitts on the Ring? His comments to Merry and Pippin seem to indicate that he would have taken it for himself, admiring comments about the Nazgûl notwithstanding. Of course, a little orc could never have really challenged Sauron himself, but it likely would have thrown a wrench in Sauron's works nonetheless, if to a lesser degree than if someone like Saruman had managed to claim it. I guess the Nine are more like physical extensions of Sauron's will than independent entities, but I guess it's hard for an evil overlord to find good help. Orcs are effective in numbers but they will betray you or run away in fear at the earliest opportunity if given half the chance.
Saruman's orcs, or Uglúk at least, do seem to be motivated by a twisted sense of loyalty or duty to Saruman himself. Uglúk states that they are "servants of Saruman the Wise, the White Hand: the Hand that gives us man's-flesh to eat." He genuinely seems to want to return the halflings to Saruman because Saruman was the one who created (bred? spawned from a test tube?) him. The Jackson films make explicit that Saruman is "breeding" an army in Orthanc, while the books leave it more ambiguous as to where exactly these "fighting Uruk-hai" are coming from. I wonder if Saruman somehow managed to instill this loyalty in the creation process, or if he really just does treat his orcs far nicer than Sauron does his orcs (as we see in later chapters, the Mordor orcs kill one another with glee and wild abandon, while these "Uruk-hai" seem fiercely united from start to finish).
I honestly don't have too much more to say about this chapter. Pippin doesn't have too much more going on in his head than was displayed in "Fellowship" from others' observations of him; I think it's telling that he still refers to Aragorn as "Strider" rather than by his true name. He at least has the foresight to plan their escape, but of course any kind of competent captors would have checked and double-checked his bonds multiple times a day. Merry comes across as rather dull thanks to his wounds, but he certainly does not hesitate to reassert his authority of his nitwit cousin once they are freed from the circle of Riders and need a place to go. As far as the orcs' operational procedures go, it's interesting to note the orc-drink as a twisted counterpart to the lembas from Lórien and the inspiring drink that Elrond gave Gandalf to help the Fellowship, and that the Moria orcs were recruited by Saruman but don't seem to have any particular allegiance to any great power without, shall we say, harsh motivation.
I know Tolkien is trying to say something about how greed and cruelty are the architects of their own destruction, which is something that a lot of evil overlords seem to have problems with in fantasy novels. It's something of a tired trope by this point, however, and it didn't do a whole lot for me this re-read. In any case, this kind of infighting will lead in part to Sauron's destruction in Book VI. And of course, if Sauron and Saruman had really worked together, they might have had a chance to stop the forces of Good. But of course Saruman could never really commit to just being a stooge; as Gandalf told Saruman, "only one hand at a time can wield the One." Poor Saruman. His game is already up at the end of this chapter -- he just doesn't know it yet.
Eric's Thoughts (5/16/15)
Ben and Jacob already covered my thoughts on this chapter pretty well. I have to say we seem to be on the same page.
I personally found fascinating the orc-salve that is used to heal Merry and Pippin, and the liquor they feed them that burns them inside but gives them vigor. That part came alive for me--for a moment I was Pippin, and imagined what it would be like to be imbued with harsh healing methods.
Certainly, it is a well-tried trope that evil characters are always trying to screw one another behind the scenes, and that they are only loyale insofar they can increase their own power, and your superior is useful, etc. I laughed at the capitalism example by Ben
In a way, you almost feel more sorry for the orcs than Pippin. Especially if you're at the top. Not only do you have cruel masters above you that will kill you and make an example out of you if they so much as think you've stepped out of line, but you also have alpha-wolf contests with your inferiors and have to constantly kill to stay alive. Indeed, the orcs are very much like a pack of dogs, where the alpha dog constantly is challenged, and one sign of weakness or an unlucky wound, and you'll be tomorrow's dinner. They certainly eat like dogs--foul food that Pippin and Merry won't touch. It's not good to be an orc -- you certainly won't be appreciated for who you are.
I think I can add a little backstory that might be helpful, here. We find out through blizzard entertainment that the orcs are a noble species, and that they were merely corrupted by a bunch of demons. Some literary scholar really ought to look into it, and they could figure out where the orcs really came from, and why it's a such a difficult life being an orc, and why the orcs were a noble species and got so corrupted. PhD dissertation, anyone?
No comments:
Post a Comment