Chapter 12: Flight to the Ford

Jacob's Thoughts (5/1/14)

I'm still waiting for Ben to catch up with us and fill us in with his Encyclopedic knowledge of Tolkien mythology about what exactly is the meaning and importance of "Elbereth," and why that word seemed to drive the Black Riders away at the climactic moment at the end of the chapter previous. I even contemplated just waiting another week and, you know, be more responsible myself and spend this time working on my various 20-page finals (one more year, one more year, one more year...)

Nevertheless, I was so tantalizingly close to the end of Book 1 (and I also wanted to procrastinate as much as reasonable), that I just couldn't resist.  But as thrilling as that conclusion was, I'm still left with unsettled questions in my mind: why exactly didn't the Black Riders just finish the job the night they stabbed Frodo?  What was it about shouting "Elbereth!" and/or Strider flinging torches at them that sent the Black Riders scrambling, exactly?  If they're so violent and powerful (as we've already seen), and if even an elf can hardly stand up to The Nine (as we learn in this chapter), then what's to stop them from dismembering 4 frightened hobbits and a single man they've got outnumbered in the dark, which we already know is their home turf?  And if they can just telekineticly make your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth and make your sword fall apart (as we see them do at the ford), why not just do that to Frodo when they've got him cornered, so that he can't slash at them or cry enchanted words at them or whatever?  I need my villains to feel more competent than our erstwhile heroes in order for their defeat to feel fully satisfying.

For that matter, why did it take so long for them to track down and cut off our motley crew of hobbits again, particularly if our heroes are now sticking to the main road and there's not one but two choke points at rivers and bridges?  Why wait till they're almost on the cusp of Rivendell, where there's already elves riding out to reinforce them, before they attack?  For that matter, if Rivendell is already so aware of the deathly importance of their quest, why only send out one guy to help them out, instead of, say, an entire battalion?  Will any of these questions be answered in the next chapters at all?  All these hanging mysteries are like static on the radio, disrupting my ability to enjoy Book 1's climax.

Two comments on the film version: I am still irritated after all these years with Peter Jackson for undercutting and blunting the impact of Frodo's lone stand against the Black Riders by shoe-horning in Steve Perry's daughter pouting all sexy-like in her Elfin dominatrix outfit across the ford; it was a relief to override that scene in my own imagination with the original here once more.  However, everything else the film does in the lead up to that moment is, frankly, more internally consistent and intelligible than what Tolkien has written down here, viz: the Black Riders disperse simply because Strider is a total bad-ass of a fighter; but rather than lingering around all day and traveling days more, as in the text, our little Fellowship take off at once for Rivendell as fast as they can, for the Black Riders regroup almost immediately and are hot on their heels.  Maybe Tolkien should've been a screen-writer, to help reign in his most meandering tendencies.

Also,  while blundering across the stone Trolls from The Hobbit might have perhaps been a delightful call-back earlier in the novel, it feels jarring and out of place here, what with the tone so very different and the stakes so much higher.

Nevertheless, it's impossible for me to be a total crank about this chapter: I've repeated so often that even I'm getting kinda sick of it, that my favorite theme in this book is that of a light shining through the darkness, and here in Book 1's final scene, we see that theme get bumped up to the next level!  For here we have all nine Black Riders, and they don't even bother covering their heads anymore (I'd forgotten that detail), letting their cold, merciless eyes shine in broad daylight, so self-confident are they, so complete is their control, so total is their victory.  Up till now, the darkness has never been more powerful.

But then, lo, behold!  Down the river comes a "cavalry of waves," with "white riders upon white horses with frothing manes."  Even more important, across the ford is "a shining figure of white light; and behind it ran small shadowy forms waving flames, that flared red in the grey mist that was falling over the world" (another detail I'd forgotten).  Whatever these are, they drive into the retributive flood the remaining Black Riders who had wisely held back (to no avail), saving Frodo.

And just what is that shining figure of white light with its attendant shadowy forms waving flames?  The paradox is that, unlike my earlier questions, I actually don't need that particular question answered at all: for right now, it is enough for me to know that as dark as was the darkness, the light was more powerful still, that it shined brightly no matter the grey mist falling over the world, and swept away the dark ones suddenly, in an instant.

Ben's Thoughts (5/4/14)

"Flight to the Ford" is not as good a chapter as "Knife," either tonally or plot-wise. But I do think that most of Jacob's criticism are undeserved. It has its problems, but I think by this point Tolkien has control over his narrative. The plot is driving forward with some real momentum here, and there are also nice links to past and future events (references to the Hobbits' escape from the Shire; the Elvish drink Glorfindel gives them) that allow the chapter to exists comfortably in the overarching narrative.

First things first: Elbereth. "Elbereth" is the Sindarin name for Varda, the "Queen of the Stars" or chief goddess among the Valar (Tolkien's pantheon of "higher" gods). Elbereth is linked to Frodo throughout LOTR, and the connection between them seems to stem from his affinity with Elves. (I say "seems to stem" because it is never spelled out directly; supernatural forces seem to lend him (and later Sam) strength, but the nature of this power is never specified.) She is referred to by her Sindarin name because by this point, most of the Elves in Middle-Earth are Sindar.

What the heck is a "Sindar", you ask? Hearkening back to our Elven taxonomy class, the Elves were first created by Eru ("God") but were left sleeping in the Earth until they were awakened by the creation of the stars (hence their link to Varda as "Queen" of the stars). Once awakened, the Valar invited them to come to Valinor (the continent in the west where the gods dwelled). Many Elves did not want to come, but others chose to undertake the long journey west. These Elves were called the "Eldar." The Eldar were divided into three families: the Noldor, the Vanyar, and the Teleri. The Noldor are the "Deep-Elves," who were concerned with metallurgy. Fëanor was a Noldor, and he brought his family back to Middle-Earth after Morgoth stole the Silmarils from Valinor. Most of the important Elves in LOTR are of Noldorin descent, for example Elrond and Galadriel. The Sindar, or "Grey-Elves," on the other hand, were Teleri who made most of the journey west, but ultimately decided to stay in Middle-Earth. Thingol, who I mentioned in my previous post, was their king. By the Third Age, the wars between Morgoth and Sauron and the Elves had decimated the Noldorin houses, and the remaining Elves were almost all Sindar. Legolas, for example, is Sindar. "Quenya," or the Noldorin language, is all but a dead language by the time of LOTR. "Sindarin" was the native Elven language by that time.

Whew, that was a lot of backstory to just explain the origin of one word. In any case, the invocation of "Elbereth" is a defense against the Riders because of Varda's constant opposition towards Morgoth and Sauron (who was originally Morgoth's lieutenant). InThe Silmarillion, Varda's husband Manwë is typically portrayed as more easy-going towards Morgoth's crimes (because during the creation of the Earth, they had similar talents and abilities), while Varda is always opposed and antagonistic towards them. Thus Varda because the favored goddess of the Noldor, because of the Noldor's quest to destroy Morgoth and retrieve the Silmarils. I've speculated about Frodo's supernatural connections prior to this point, but it seems logical that Elbereth is the source of his dreams and visions; for example, the vision Frodo had in "Knife in the Dark" about the Riders' attack on Crickhollow was probably from that source.

But back to the matter at hand. I feel like the driving action of the chapter was to get the Hobbits and Strider to the Ford (hence the chapter title), and it did a relatively good job of doing that. Jacob is right that the company's interlude with Bilbo's trolls is pretty out of place here. After the Riders' retreat from Weathertop, there was no need for a second pause to lower the levels of tension. While the callback was cute, it also was the opportunity for Tolkien to shoehorn in another poem (the fourth poem in as many chapters!), and while I gushed about the last one, this one was truly cringe-inducing. A comical song about a troll was just not needed in this chapter to keep things going.

However, I do have to protest about Jacob's criticism of the Riders' MO in this chapter. Despite some indication of physicality displayed in "Knife" (what with the beating down the door at Crickhollow), I believe that Tolkien has been remarkably consistent in portraying that the Riders' power comes (1) from numbers, i.e. the greater number of Riders, the greater total power; and (2) from fear, despair, and terror (which, if I recall, remains very much in play throughout the rest of LOTR). One Rider in the Shire was easily shooed away by a group of wandering Elves. Two (probably) Riders in Bree had to sneak in the Prancing Pony's windows in the middle of the night, without making any noise, to try to get at the Ring. Three Riders were able to break down a door and openly announce their presence, but only in a dark alley in an obscure corner of Hobbit-land. Five Riders were able to assault the company's camp at Weathertop, but only in the dead of night when their enemies' fear was greatest, and chose to retreat when Aragorn attacked them.

Here, again, their plan is consistent. Frodo's injury will render him weaker and more susceptible to their persuasive ability re: the Ring (as evidenced at the end, when Frodo must obey their command to stop the horse on the far side of the Ford). It also increases the fear and terror of the company. Two Riders remain in the wilderness west of the River Mitheithel, to drive the company towards the three waiting to trap them at the Last Bridge. The other four wait in Rhudaur to trap the company if they manage to cross the bridge. They did not reckon on Glorfindel coming upon the "choke-point," as Jacob put it, and driving all five Riders west, which allowed the company to safely and easily cross the bridge. After Glorfindel turned back east, those five turned and rode down the Road as fast as possible. So to answer Jacob's criticisms, the Riders aren't particularly disposed to direct physical violence, and their power is increased only in some situations. As Strider tells Sam, they dispersed after the attack on Weathertop because the Riders "believe [Frodo] has a deadly wound that will subdue him to their will." If Frodo succumbs to the wound, a nearby Rider could tell him to put on the Ring, and then it wouldn't matter what Strider or the others tried to do.

A word on Glorfindel: it makes sense that Elrond would send out his most powerful councilors to try and find the Hobbits. Glorfindel single-handedly is able to drive three Riders from the bridge and all five west, away from the company, and then with the help of Strider, the Hobbits, and some fire, forces six Riders to be swept away by the river at the end of the chapter. He is also able to ease the pain and effects of Frodo's wound. I've wondered a few times why Tolkien didn't just merge the characters of Glorfindel and Legolas (in fact, the Ralph Bakshi animated film does just this) in accordance with the Law of Conservation of Characters (never create two characters where one will do). However, I suppose Tolkien wanted to have someone able to be a threat to the Riders, while at the same time a member of the stealthy Fellowship couldn't be so overtly powerful. Thus Legolas.

As a result, poor Glorfindel seems shortchanged, and certainly doesn't feel like a fully realized character, despite his calm and confidence in the face of the company's predicament. He does manage to outshine Strider in the few pages of his arrival, which is almost too bad. I'm not as vitriolic towards Peter Jackson's replacement of Glorfindel with Arwen as Jacob is; I feel like the poor guy had to give female characters bigger roles, and this was the most fluid way to do it. However, I agree with Jacob that the ending of the chapter, where Frodo manages to defy the Riders on his own before being finally overcome, packs a lot more punch with respect to our main character than Arwen's overwrought "come and take him!" from the film.

In any case, Glorfindel is familiar to Tolkien fans as a minor character from The Silmarillion. He shows up as a lieutenant of one of the Noldorin High Kings of Gondolin, where he fights and kills a Balrog on his own but also gets killed in the process. Later ret-conning efforts by Christopher Tolkien have merged these two Glorfindels into one character, so we can now feel confident in this chapter that an Elf who is thousands and thousands of years old and who has killed a Balrog single-handedly can handle a few Ringwraiths.

I don't know if I really touched a lot on the chapter here. It's mostly plot-focused, with some time wasted on the troll interlude. Strider remains competent and concerned (although without the humor and sarcasm of previous chapters, which is too bad -- I hope some of that returns in later chapters). It was nice to see Sam's initial antagonism towards Strider at the beginning of the chapter -- way to make yourself an individual, Sam. Merry and Pippin are interchangeable here (Like Samneric from Lord of the Flies, I guess). I suppose that, like Jacob, I was a little underwhelmed by this closing chapter after the giddy heights of "Knife in the Dark," but we can't have it all. Let's see what Book 2 brings.

Eric's Thoughts (5/26/14)

Perhaps evil is just the removal of a person's free will. That certainly seems to be suggested by the Black Rider's dagger-inflicted wound that would put Frodo under the Black Rider's command. Tolkien describes that, after Glorfindel cries out for Frodo to "Ride forward! Ride!", Frodo does not "obey at once, for a strange reluctance seized him. Checking the horse to awalk, he turned and looked back. The Riders seemed to sit upon their great steeds like threatening statues upon a hill, dark and solid, while all the woods and land about them receded as if into a mist. Suddenly he knew in his heart that they were commanding him to wait. [. . .] Hatred stirred in him, but he had no longer the strength to refuse."

Unlike Lucas's trilogy, which I might add apparently is getting three more movies, it seems that in this story anger is channeled as a means to resist evil, rather than a source of temptation. (E.g. "Hatred stirred within him.") This goes against the classic archetype of anger and revenge being a pathway to evil. But here, anger at evil itself is a energy source to compel action even when the odds seem long. Frodo becomes angry at the Riders, and brandishes his sword. Anger plays an important role in Frodo's resistance. From the language of the text, it seems that Frodo, without anger, would not have been able to resist the pull of the Riders, and Middle Earth would have been doomed.

From a Darwinian perspective, every emotion serves a useful purpose. So maybe anger shouldn't be looked at as such a bad thing, but something that people have cultivated over thousands of years, and can help people resist black riders of their own. Perhaps the very nature of anger, like all things is merely how is directed. Is it wrong to be angry at one who has cheated you? No. Or who has hurt you? No. Or towards ideas you find to be wrong? No. Anger is the great motivator that spurs people to action and that facilitates change. Without anger, there would be no motivator to make things better.

That's what seems to be at stake in this chapter. Will Frodo succumb to evil? The riders themselves certainly seem to think so. That's why we can assume they withdrew in the previous chapter, because once Frodo is pierced with evil the Riders assume no living being can resist. Evil is a lot like that. When you perform an act that is wrong over time, it no longer stings the conscience, because your viewpoints about that very act have shifted. What once was wrong now seems right. The power of the Riders is to twist Frodo's mind so he obeys a force he previously did not wish to obey. 

So again, what are these Black Riders? We have posed the question before. Well, we know they are creatures that lurk in the shadows. They run when hobbits shout at them (e.g. Nob). In multiple instances, they have leaped out, struck quickly, then quickly withdrew. They fly before light and fire and those with strong hearts and will. Even Nob was able to scare a few Riders when he showed courage before them. Indeed, strength in battle might be irrelevant when fighting the Riders, but rather strength of heart is the key to defeating them. Eowyn certainly shows this strength of heart later on when killing their leader.

The Riders are hoping Frodo will procure the means of his own doom by giving in to the dagger. Perhaps that is merely all the Riders are: like the ring, creatures that draw out the potential for evil that already exist within ourselves. We all fight our own daggers, in a way, chased by death. Perhaps Flight to the Ford can be viewed as something more than just a simple escape into the woods. We all seek the peace of Rivendell. The question is, can we resist the dagger long enough to get there?

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