Chapter 10: The Black Gate Opens
Jacob's Thoughts (12/30/16)
I wanted to finish Book V with the end of this year, when so many Black Gates feel like they've opened...
The chapter's obvious highlight is Gandalf's trashtalk with the Mouth of Sauron, and I will touch back on him in a bit; but I first wanted to back up and note a couple less-innocuous moments from earlier in this chapter: when the heralds cry "The Lords of Gondor are come! Let all leave this land or yield them up!" To which Imrahil suggests, "Say not The Lords of Gondor. Say The King Elessar. For that is true, even though he has not yet sat upon the throne; and it will give the Enemy more thought, if the heralds use that name" (198). Then, before the Black Gate itself, the heralds again cry, "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart forever" (201). In each case, the rights of the legitimate King are invoked, and this feels integral to me.
For a thing that's been quietly gnawing at me throughout re-read is why it was so imperative, so essential, to Tolkien, that there be a King that Returns. There have been occasional hints of Christian apocalyptic allegory here and there, as the King is a type for the coming Messiah, but nothing that rises to the level of his colleague C.S. Lewis's Chronicle of Narnia--on the whole, Aragorn hasn't felt too much like a Christ-like analogue, but simply the heir to a restored Monarchy after a particularly long interregnum.
One might argue that Tolkien's infatuation with the Monarchy is just another way of saying he's English--but then, the English have had a really fraught relationship with their Kings! From King John forced to sign the Magna Carta in 1215, to the Peasant Revolt of 1381, to Jack Cade's rebellion of 1450, to the War of the Roses and Guy Fawkes and the English Civil War and Charles I's beheading and the American Revolution (which is best understood as a bunch of Englishmen once again trying to kill their King) and the Sex Pistols sneering "Anarchy in the UK" and The Smiths singing "The Queen is Dead" and Prince Charles' motorcade being attacked during the 2011 London riots with shouts of "Off with his head," the English have a long and bloody history of always trying to get rid of their monarchy! That the British Monarchy is one of the few surviving left on Earth is one of the supremest ironies of history.
Even in Tolkien's time, the monarchy had already been reduced to a figure-head arrangement, the real power lying primarily with Parliament, the forces of Democracy having largely won their victories, the term "constitutional monarchy" coined as a polite way to say that the Monarchy is allowed to stick around primarily due to institutional inertia. There is certainly nothing Messianic about the British Crown.
Yet there is about Aragorn's. I've been trying to put my finger on why, because it just seems to odd for a book all about challenging the absolute rule of a dictator should simultaneously celebrate the rise of a Monarch; the cognitive dissonance is astounding. But I think this chapter rather off-handedly explains the appeal of a King to Tolkein: "For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands." Quite simply, Sauron has no rights to Gondor--or the rest of Middle-Earth for that matter--because the King is asserting his claims. That the King still largely lacks the military-apparatus necessary to enforce said claims is beside the point: for what Aragorn represents is not that hereditary monarchy is an ideal form of government (I highly doubt that even Tolkein seriously believed that), but rather that there is a proper order, that the current rule of darkness is not the way things are supposed to be. King Aragorn does not merely challenge Sauron's power, but his legitimacy.
Although, as a red-blooded American, I have even less interest in a Monarch than the British, I have as of late found a strange sort of solace in wanting to say to the gathering forces of darkness, you have no rights here. You do no belong here, you are not the way things are supposed to be. There is just this sense that something has been usurped--not a Kingship per se, but an overall order wherein cruelty and viciousness are not allowed to run amok unchecked. That, I believe, more than any mere nostalgia for some chivalrous past that never actually existed, is the real appeal of Aragorn to Tolkein--this idea that evil can be checked by a proper claimant who can order it off its property.
Which in turn perhaps explains Gandalf's own boldness before the Mouth of Sauron. The White Wizard snatches Sam and Frodos' accouterments from the Mouth quite simply because they do not belong to him; they are not his to offer nor to bandy about nor to keep. Gandalf then calls Sauron a haggler, a base master of treachery, and the Mouth a slave. These are not random insults, but cutting jabs intended to mark the Dark Lord as just another thuggish low-life trying to basely steal what isn't his; Sauron may still be able to force things from you like a common mugger, or haggle with you like some back-alley swindler, but nevertheless he still has no legitimate claims to anything that actual Free Men may possess. The Mouth of Sauron himself must feel this, because after Gandalf snatches away Frodo and Sams' garments, he ceases all his mocking laughter and swiftly retreats to the Black Gate with his tail between his legs, to take refuge in Mordor's numbers because he can't take any in its claims.
This whole idea, that evil has no real claims to this world, that it can be evicted, is an empowering one, and can help to muster your forces and courage and righteous indignation, even when you feel outnumbered.
Ben's Thoughts (2/24/17)
The thing about Tolkien's worldview, the underpinning that guides the plot, history, and characters of The Lord of the Rings, is that there exists a very clear good and a very clear evil.
Yes, yes, a spectrum exists between the two poles. It's not always simplistic to place Tolkien's characters on that spectrum, either; just look at Denethor, who we've discussed at length in the past few chapters, and Gollum, who we addressed in Book IV and we'll talk more about as we move into Book VI. But the point remains -- Tolkien's Middle-earth contains a transcendent good: the justice and truth and legitimacy of Aragorn's claim to the throne, Gandalf's motives, the hobbits' innate goodness; as well as the most base and wretched evil: Sauron and all he represents.
This is at once refreshing and frustrating. It's refreshing because it's so unlike our own world. The main characters of LOTR have a clear and obvious objective to work towards: defeat Sauron. All other goals fall short of that one; Sauron must be stopped or he will destroy everything good and right about Middle-earth. The narrative voice states this is his intention; Gandalf and Elrond and other characters who we have no reason to doubt states this as his intention. (Interestingly, whenever a spokesman of Sauron himself or one of his minions expresses their worldview, they distort that picture considerably; but their actions speak louder than their words in every instance.) On the flip side, it's frustrating because that duality is so unlike our own world. There are very few human beings that I think we can safely label as wholly and irredeemably evil or totally and completely good (certainly the latter). Even with organizations and individuals that I abhor; that stand in fundamental opposition to my own values and choices, I can see their perspective and at least some good in them.
So perhaps this duality is why these apocalyptic chapters of "Return of the King" don't resonate with me as much as they once did. When I was young, the righteous utterances of the heralds thrilled me ("Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart then for ever. Come forth!"). But now, when I can see so many shades of gray in the world, my reading is soured by the fact that very little in my life will ever be as clear-cut as that.
This issue is stated as one of the draws of so-called "high fantasy," of which Tolkien was a pioneer. As the argument goes, we read such texts in an attempt to escape from the uncertainty that surrounds us on a daily basis. But I'm not so sure that really nails the draw down. I feel like the goodness and purity exhibited in these texts are more ideals to strive for, in Tolkien's mind, than methods of escapism or paragons of unattainability, either one. Circling back around, perhaps that's my suspicion because even some of Tolkien's most bulletproof characters have doubts from time to time, are exhibited as not being unshakable in their worldviews. Interestingly, this chapter is a distorted mirror of "The Voice of Saruman," in that the company is confronted by dangerous half-truths; most of those listening suppose that all hope and, indeed, need for resistance, is futile; and assume that Gandalf will capitulate to the demands of the encroaching representative of evil. Even more startling is the fact that, here, Gandalf himself seems affected by the Mouth of Sauron's words -- when he sees Frodo and Sam's gear in the hands of the Enemy, he is horrified, and must collect himself and his thoughts before returning a stinging rebuke.
This final chapter in Book V is plot-light, but with good reason; it places front and center both the conflict between the opposite poles that I've been discussing, and the frailty of the individuals involved. This is further highlighted by Tolkien inserting the snippet about how some soldiers could not physically or mentally continue onward and had to be given an alternative assignment by Aragorn. No man can or should be forced onto the "best" path -- but, in Tolkien's Middle-earth, a best path clearly exists.
Eric's Thoughts (6/11/17)
So far, The Black Gate Opens is the best structured chapter in the Return of the King as of yet. Between Minis Tirith and the close of this portion of the story, it probably is the best chapter.
I find little to critique here. The writing is solid. The objective is clear: go to the black gate to distract Sauron -- and die in the attempt. The setting also plays an evocative role in developing the characters. Aragon's rag-tag army become increasing disturbed by what is around them.The reader stays with the characters and eagerly turns the page to see where this is going. After all, what good is a futile assault on Mordor with fewer than 6,000 soldiers? There are high schools that are bigger than that.
The soldiers dragging their feet to their doom would have been a solid chapter in itself. Tolkien goes further and executes well. A lesser writer would have launched into some kind of battle scene immediately when the troops reached the black gate. Not Tolkien. Tolkien shifts viewpoints as he so often does, and notes that Sauron wanted to toy with the army first before crushing it. While this hubris is so frustrating in the Hollywood structure of Bond villains (why not just shoot James Bond?), it really works here. Sauron doesn't just want to win; he wants to gloat about it.
So how does Sauron gloat, as he is more an idea than a form? Enter one of the best villains in the story--better than any Ringwraith or two-bit orc. The Mouth of Sauron. This foul-mouthed cretin wants to rule over all the West, which is clear when the Mouth describes the terms of surrender. Gandalf wisely points out what guarantees does one have when bargaining with the master of treachery, and the Mouth responds honestly that there are no guarantees at all. So much for bargaining. Of course, Sauron didn't want a bargain. He just wanted to taunt. Both sides know this.
So well done is this scene, that Tolkien even uses this scene to ratchet up the tension offstage. As far as the reader knows, Frodo has been taken alive by the enemy and tortured. The Mouth reveals the tokens of Frodo and Sam -- e.g. the mithril coat -- showing that the hobbits have been captured by the enemy.
So much for Gandalf's gambit. The heroes suddenly realize that their last throw of the dice is for naught. Frodo has been taken and is being tortured, and Sauron has the One Ring. At this moment, the title of the chapter, The Black Gate Opens, reveals more than tides of endless orcs. The Black Gate opens to reveal indisputable evidence, from the Mouth of Sauron, that all truly is lost. The heroes of the light rally and fight anyway.
Masterful.
I wanted to finish Book V with the end of this year, when so many Black Gates feel like they've opened...
The chapter's obvious highlight is Gandalf's trashtalk with the Mouth of Sauron, and I will touch back on him in a bit; but I first wanted to back up and note a couple less-innocuous moments from earlier in this chapter: when the heralds cry "The Lords of Gondor are come! Let all leave this land or yield them up!" To which Imrahil suggests, "Say not The Lords of Gondor. Say The King Elessar. For that is true, even though he has not yet sat upon the throne; and it will give the Enemy more thought, if the heralds use that name" (198). Then, before the Black Gate itself, the heralds again cry, "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart forever" (201). In each case, the rights of the legitimate King are invoked, and this feels integral to me.
For a thing that's been quietly gnawing at me throughout re-read is why it was so imperative, so essential, to Tolkien, that there be a King that Returns. There have been occasional hints of Christian apocalyptic allegory here and there, as the King is a type for the coming Messiah, but nothing that rises to the level of his colleague C.S. Lewis's Chronicle of Narnia--on the whole, Aragorn hasn't felt too much like a Christ-like analogue, but simply the heir to a restored Monarchy after a particularly long interregnum.
One might argue that Tolkien's infatuation with the Monarchy is just another way of saying he's English--but then, the English have had a really fraught relationship with their Kings! From King John forced to sign the Magna Carta in 1215, to the Peasant Revolt of 1381, to Jack Cade's rebellion of 1450, to the War of the Roses and Guy Fawkes and the English Civil War and Charles I's beheading and the American Revolution (which is best understood as a bunch of Englishmen once again trying to kill their King) and the Sex Pistols sneering "Anarchy in the UK" and The Smiths singing "The Queen is Dead" and Prince Charles' motorcade being attacked during the 2011 London riots with shouts of "Off with his head," the English have a long and bloody history of always trying to get rid of their monarchy! That the British Monarchy is one of the few surviving left on Earth is one of the supremest ironies of history.
Even in Tolkien's time, the monarchy had already been reduced to a figure-head arrangement, the real power lying primarily with Parliament, the forces of Democracy having largely won their victories, the term "constitutional monarchy" coined as a polite way to say that the Monarchy is allowed to stick around primarily due to institutional inertia. There is certainly nothing Messianic about the British Crown.
Yet there is about Aragorn's. I've been trying to put my finger on why, because it just seems to odd for a book all about challenging the absolute rule of a dictator should simultaneously celebrate the rise of a Monarch; the cognitive dissonance is astounding. But I think this chapter rather off-handedly explains the appeal of a King to Tolkein: "For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands." Quite simply, Sauron has no rights to Gondor--or the rest of Middle-Earth for that matter--because the King is asserting his claims. That the King still largely lacks the military-apparatus necessary to enforce said claims is beside the point: for what Aragorn represents is not that hereditary monarchy is an ideal form of government (I highly doubt that even Tolkein seriously believed that), but rather that there is a proper order, that the current rule of darkness is not the way things are supposed to be. King Aragorn does not merely challenge Sauron's power, but his legitimacy.
Although, as a red-blooded American, I have even less interest in a Monarch than the British, I have as of late found a strange sort of solace in wanting to say to the gathering forces of darkness, you have no rights here. You do no belong here, you are not the way things are supposed to be. There is just this sense that something has been usurped--not a Kingship per se, but an overall order wherein cruelty and viciousness are not allowed to run amok unchecked. That, I believe, more than any mere nostalgia for some chivalrous past that never actually existed, is the real appeal of Aragorn to Tolkein--this idea that evil can be checked by a proper claimant who can order it off its property.
Which in turn perhaps explains Gandalf's own boldness before the Mouth of Sauron. The White Wizard snatches Sam and Frodos' accouterments from the Mouth quite simply because they do not belong to him; they are not his to offer nor to bandy about nor to keep. Gandalf then calls Sauron a haggler, a base master of treachery, and the Mouth a slave. These are not random insults, but cutting jabs intended to mark the Dark Lord as just another thuggish low-life trying to basely steal what isn't his; Sauron may still be able to force things from you like a common mugger, or haggle with you like some back-alley swindler, but nevertheless he still has no legitimate claims to anything that actual Free Men may possess. The Mouth of Sauron himself must feel this, because after Gandalf snatches away Frodo and Sams' garments, he ceases all his mocking laughter and swiftly retreats to the Black Gate with his tail between his legs, to take refuge in Mordor's numbers because he can't take any in its claims.
This whole idea, that evil has no real claims to this world, that it can be evicted, is an empowering one, and can help to muster your forces and courage and righteous indignation, even when you feel outnumbered.
Ben's Thoughts (2/24/17)
The thing about Tolkien's worldview, the underpinning that guides the plot, history, and characters of The Lord of the Rings, is that there exists a very clear good and a very clear evil.
Yes, yes, a spectrum exists between the two poles. It's not always simplistic to place Tolkien's characters on that spectrum, either; just look at Denethor, who we've discussed at length in the past few chapters, and Gollum, who we addressed in Book IV and we'll talk more about as we move into Book VI. But the point remains -- Tolkien's Middle-earth contains a transcendent good: the justice and truth and legitimacy of Aragorn's claim to the throne, Gandalf's motives, the hobbits' innate goodness; as well as the most base and wretched evil: Sauron and all he represents.
This is at once refreshing and frustrating. It's refreshing because it's so unlike our own world. The main characters of LOTR have a clear and obvious objective to work towards: defeat Sauron. All other goals fall short of that one; Sauron must be stopped or he will destroy everything good and right about Middle-earth. The narrative voice states this is his intention; Gandalf and Elrond and other characters who we have no reason to doubt states this as his intention. (Interestingly, whenever a spokesman of Sauron himself or one of his minions expresses their worldview, they distort that picture considerably; but their actions speak louder than their words in every instance.) On the flip side, it's frustrating because that duality is so unlike our own world. There are very few human beings that I think we can safely label as wholly and irredeemably evil or totally and completely good (certainly the latter). Even with organizations and individuals that I abhor; that stand in fundamental opposition to my own values and choices, I can see their perspective and at least some good in them.
So perhaps this duality is why these apocalyptic chapters of "Return of the King" don't resonate with me as much as they once did. When I was young, the righteous utterances of the heralds thrilled me ("Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart then for ever. Come forth!"). But now, when I can see so many shades of gray in the world, my reading is soured by the fact that very little in my life will ever be as clear-cut as that.
This issue is stated as one of the draws of so-called "high fantasy," of which Tolkien was a pioneer. As the argument goes, we read such texts in an attempt to escape from the uncertainty that surrounds us on a daily basis. But I'm not so sure that really nails the draw down. I feel like the goodness and purity exhibited in these texts are more ideals to strive for, in Tolkien's mind, than methods of escapism or paragons of unattainability, either one. Circling back around, perhaps that's my suspicion because even some of Tolkien's most bulletproof characters have doubts from time to time, are exhibited as not being unshakable in their worldviews. Interestingly, this chapter is a distorted mirror of "The Voice of Saruman," in that the company is confronted by dangerous half-truths; most of those listening suppose that all hope and, indeed, need for resistance, is futile; and assume that Gandalf will capitulate to the demands of the encroaching representative of evil. Even more startling is the fact that, here, Gandalf himself seems affected by the Mouth of Sauron's words -- when he sees Frodo and Sam's gear in the hands of the Enemy, he is horrified, and must collect himself and his thoughts before returning a stinging rebuke.
This final chapter in Book V is plot-light, but with good reason; it places front and center both the conflict between the opposite poles that I've been discussing, and the frailty of the individuals involved. This is further highlighted by Tolkien inserting the snippet about how some soldiers could not physically or mentally continue onward and had to be given an alternative assignment by Aragorn. No man can or should be forced onto the "best" path -- but, in Tolkien's Middle-earth, a best path clearly exists.
Eric's Thoughts (6/11/17)
So far, The Black Gate Opens is the best structured chapter in the Return of the King as of yet. Between Minis Tirith and the close of this portion of the story, it probably is the best chapter.
I find little to critique here. The writing is solid. The objective is clear: go to the black gate to distract Sauron -- and die in the attempt. The setting also plays an evocative role in developing the characters. Aragon's rag-tag army become increasing disturbed by what is around them.The reader stays with the characters and eagerly turns the page to see where this is going. After all, what good is a futile assault on Mordor with fewer than 6,000 soldiers? There are high schools that are bigger than that.
The soldiers dragging their feet to their doom would have been a solid chapter in itself. Tolkien goes further and executes well. A lesser writer would have launched into some kind of battle scene immediately when the troops reached the black gate. Not Tolkien. Tolkien shifts viewpoints as he so often does, and notes that Sauron wanted to toy with the army first before crushing it. While this hubris is so frustrating in the Hollywood structure of Bond villains (why not just shoot James Bond?), it really works here. Sauron doesn't just want to win; he wants to gloat about it.
So how does Sauron gloat, as he is more an idea than a form? Enter one of the best villains in the story--better than any Ringwraith or two-bit orc. The Mouth of Sauron. This foul-mouthed cretin wants to rule over all the West, which is clear when the Mouth describes the terms of surrender. Gandalf wisely points out what guarantees does one have when bargaining with the master of treachery, and the Mouth responds honestly that there are no guarantees at all. So much for bargaining. Of course, Sauron didn't want a bargain. He just wanted to taunt. Both sides know this.
So well done is this scene, that Tolkien even uses this scene to ratchet up the tension offstage. As far as the reader knows, Frodo has been taken alive by the enemy and tortured. The Mouth reveals the tokens of Frodo and Sam -- e.g. the mithril coat -- showing that the hobbits have been captured by the enemy.
So much for Gandalf's gambit. The heroes suddenly realize that their last throw of the dice is for naught. Frodo has been taken and is being tortured, and Sauron has the One Ring. At this moment, the title of the chapter, The Black Gate Opens, reveals more than tides of endless orcs. The Black Gate opens to reveal indisputable evidence, from the Mouth of Sauron, that all truly is lost. The heroes of the light rally and fight anyway.
Masterful.
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