Chapter 6: The Battle of the Pelennor Fields
Jacob's Thoughts (10/10/16)
Eowyn finally gets her big moment, the ostensible pay-off we've been building up to the past few chapters. The Nazgul first gets some most excellent trash talk as he warns her that if she does not stand aside, he won't merely kill her, but bear her away "beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shriveled mind be left naked to the Lidless eye," for "No living man may hinder me!" Which of course just sets up Eowyn for the killer rejoinder: "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman." She then skillfully dispatches the flying beast, and straight-up slays the Nazgul--women are apparently the Black Rider's one weakness, I guess? Not since Macbeth has such a formidable villain been defeated by such a bare technicality.
Of course, she doesn't do it alone; she gets an assist from dinky little Merry, whom the Nazgul had no more regarded than he would a "worm in the mud." As with Shelob and Sam, the enemy's easy disregard of these doddering Hobbits is what proves their immediate undoing--it's what will prove Sauron's, too. That is the definite theme emerging in these concluding chapters.
I still maintain that Eowyn's last stand is not nearly developed enough to pack as much punch as Tolkien clearly wants it to have; nevertheless, the grand fanfare and grandiose language with which he describes her combat is just too darn earnest for me to hate on too much. The professor's enthusiasm covers a multitude of sins.
But not all of them; and if Mordor's constant overlook of the Hobbits is the emergent theme of these chapters, likewise I note that anti-climax is becoming this novel's recurrent failing. Just as Pippin's midnight flight from Sauron is deflated by his easy arrival into Minus Tirith, this chapter opens by revealing how Gandalf's climactic showdown with the Nazgul at the city gates ends with...the Nazgul promptly flying away. Just like that. Call me eccentric, but I kinda would've liked to see Gandalf himself actually battle one of these mofos! In fact, I think I would've been more invested in such a combat than I was in Eowyn's. Come to think of it, besides that one quick light-show to liberate King Theoden, we have not actually beheld Gandalf the White in action once! Even Gandalf the Gray we got to see duel a Balrog. I keep being told how much more powerful Gandalf the White is, but I'm apparently going to have to take everyone's word for it, because Tolkien simply refuses to show it.
Another anti-climax: the arrival of Aragorn from the Paths of the Dead. While I'll admit it was somewhat stirring to see the Black-sailed Navy suddenly unfurl the long-lost banner of the King (in the original False Flag operation) to the rejoicing of Rohan and the dismay of Mordor, nevertheless the utter absence of the actual Oathbreakers in the ensuing melee had me scratching my head.
Of course my reading is still far too colored by the Peter Jackson film, wherein these swarming ghosts pour from the ships to make short work of the hosts of Mordor in a thrilling shower of CGI. Tolkien, by contrast, does not even bother to show them in the climactic moment. I complained earlier about how left-field the Oathbreakers felt to the narrative, but if you're going to introduce them, then at least have the decency to show them! Does everything Aragorn-related--his stare-down with Sauron, the reforging of the Sword--have to happen off screen?? The titular Return of the King should not feel so strangely off-handed. Here is another moment that I am going to have concede to the Jackson version.
More egregiously, in the Tolkien text, some of Mordor's most vicious forces are made up of what are clearly black people, "black men like half-trolls with white eyes and red tongues"--which is, you know, hugely problematic. Likewise, the fact that this war is explicitly presented as a battle between the innumerable hordes of the East verses the noble-men of the West has profoundly uncomfortable Orientalist valences (a deep-seated European fear of Asia that so often justified the West's most repressive colonialism) that would have sent Edward Sa'id's eyes rolling into his head. Again, the Professor is clearly rushing at this point, as shown by how some of his most deep-seated, culturally-conditioned prejudices are starting to seep through.
Ben's Thoughts (12/14/16)
So Jacob's right, the "black men" line is inexcusably racist by today's standards, and there is serious anticlimax with respect to Gandalf's confrontation with the Witch-king at the gate and Aragorn's sudden arrival thanks to his (off-screen) victory at Pelargir. Even more silly, the ships aren't full of the Dead, as we've been expecting this whole time -- as we'll learn later, they were released from their oaths at Pelargir and now the ships are full of defenders from Gondor's southern countries. The Dead are a plot device only fit to be used in a flashback, I suppose.
But despite all that -- despite the at-times disjointed plotting, and the utter refusal to shift POVs between characters, which would create a more stable, flowing narrative (for instance, don't go into Eowyn being taken into the city right after the battle with the Witch-king, save that for later; instead, jump right to the action with Eomer and Aragorn!) -- despite all that, I still think this is a masterful chapter.
Why? Two reasons. One: the confrontation and defeat of the Witch-king. And two: the concluding poem. I'll take them in turn.
I would submit that the Lord of the Nazgul has been one of the book's antagonists built up well from the very beginning. He's the one who stabbed Frodo all the way back in Book I; he's the one to make a powerful appearance at the head of the Morgul army in Book IV; and he's the one who's been plaguing our heroes in this book as everything comes to a head at Minas Tirith. So we know what he's capable of, we know what a dangerous and powerful foe he is. So to have him so easily dispatch Theoden and then launch his assault on Eowyn is a terrifying thing for the reader.
And I know the reveal that Dernhelm was actually (surprise!) Eowyn the whole time is something of a non-starter -- only the most obtuse of readers would fail to recognize that twist (to the degree that, in the Peter Jackson film, he does away with the silly reveal; Merry knows its Eowyn the whole time). Even so, when she takes off that helmet, defying the Black Rider: "[T]he helm of her secrecy . . . had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheek. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy’s eyes." That's a powerful moment.
I know the set-up for the "no living man" thing was not well laid for the reader. In this book, all you get is Gandalf's allusion to it in "Seige of Gondor." But by delving into the backstory, the reader finds that a long-ago prophecy foretold that not by hand of man would the Witch-king fall. And even without the knowledge of a prophecy, I argue that the Nazgul's defeat is an effective moment: all the male riders of the king's house have either died and abandoned him in the face of such a threat; Eomer is off fighting elsewhere; and here is Eowyn, alone save for Merry, facing down the most terrible threat on the battlefield:
And next, that poem, and the paragraph preceding it. I know our main characters, the Fellowship in particular, are protected by plot armor. But Theoden does die -- in battle, yes, but when you boil it down, because his horse rolled over him at the wrong moment and crushed him. And that long list of others, including Halbarad, Aragorn's Dunedain friend, and Grimbold, and a host of other secondary and tertiary characters whose names have been tossed around for the last two books. War is not free. It seems such a waste that victory, even the crushing victory the battle turned into after Aragorn arrived, should result in that many deaths. I find the lines about how those men will never return home, never again revisit the beautiful places they loved, never again see their families or lead their people, to be particularly poignant.
Tolkien of course, in concluding the poem, uses description to powerful effect, as he mirrors the landscape and the setting sun with the death and destruction and loss of the battlefield: "Grey now as tears, gleaming silver, / red then it rolled, roaring water: / foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset; / as beacons mountains burned at evening; / red fell the dew in Rammas Echor."
Too bad that that book still has several tedious chapters before its conclusion and we can get on to Frodo and Sam. Fortunately, "Pyre," coming up next, has some meaty stuff to it.
Eric's Thoughts (3/9/17)
I can never remember how to spell Pelennor. Hopefully Ben did, because I copied/pasted his title into this post.
As the tardy reader now among the group, I get to have the pleasure of analyzing Ben and Jacob's analyses -- and critiquing them! Ben it looks like thought this chapter was "masterful," while Jacob found the chapter as a good teaching example of the term "anti-climax." I tend to agree with Jacob. For what should have been an epic war scene, I found myself for the most part disengaged. Now, let's be clear: the chapter wasn't bad. Stuff certainly was happening. But I think the chapter could have been a lot better than it was -- and it needed some more work. It could have been an amazing chapter. Instead it's only ok.
While I was reading, I asked myself: why is this stuff not grabbing me? Ben previously talked about how he thought Tolkien's prose was some of the best fantasy writing ever. It's hard to disagree that Tolkien uses some brilliant descriptions and turns of language. But the parts don't necessarily add up to the sum. The text often reads dry (this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened). There just aren't any compelling moments that put you inside the a character's head. I think that's the primary problem here -- stuff happens, sure, but the stuff is meaningless without a compelling character to guide us through the battle.
Tolkien tries to guide us through the chapter through the eyes of Dernhelm (oh wait! Eowyn), but she's sadly an extremely undeveloped character that only previously made one or two cameos. (As for Merry, well, ya'll know my thoughts on Merry.) Further, there doesn't really appear to be any consistent POV throughout the chapter, and Tolkien instead seems to take an omniscient narrator role in saying this happened, and then this happened.
For me, the most interesting part is when Aragon raises his banner in the ships -- I found it intriguing that Aragon had stars on his banner in addition to the tree of Gondor. A good little detail. However, then the chapter went back to the "then this" flow. And then I was drumming my fingers again.
So, my verdict is the chapter had a few moments that made me forget I was reading. And the chapter wasn't bad. I just think Jacob is right that Tolkien seems to be rushing here.
Eowyn finally gets her big moment, the ostensible pay-off we've been building up to the past few chapters. The Nazgul first gets some most excellent trash talk as he warns her that if she does not stand aside, he won't merely kill her, but bear her away "beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shriveled mind be left naked to the Lidless eye," for "No living man may hinder me!" Which of course just sets up Eowyn for the killer rejoinder: "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman." She then skillfully dispatches the flying beast, and straight-up slays the Nazgul--women are apparently the Black Rider's one weakness, I guess? Not since Macbeth has such a formidable villain been defeated by such a bare technicality.
Of course, she doesn't do it alone; she gets an assist from dinky little Merry, whom the Nazgul had no more regarded than he would a "worm in the mud." As with Shelob and Sam, the enemy's easy disregard of these doddering Hobbits is what proves their immediate undoing--it's what will prove Sauron's, too. That is the definite theme emerging in these concluding chapters.
I still maintain that Eowyn's last stand is not nearly developed enough to pack as much punch as Tolkien clearly wants it to have; nevertheless, the grand fanfare and grandiose language with which he describes her combat is just too darn earnest for me to hate on too much. The professor's enthusiasm covers a multitude of sins.
But not all of them; and if Mordor's constant overlook of the Hobbits is the emergent theme of these chapters, likewise I note that anti-climax is becoming this novel's recurrent failing. Just as Pippin's midnight flight from Sauron is deflated by his easy arrival into Minus Tirith, this chapter opens by revealing how Gandalf's climactic showdown with the Nazgul at the city gates ends with...the Nazgul promptly flying away. Just like that. Call me eccentric, but I kinda would've liked to see Gandalf himself actually battle one of these mofos! In fact, I think I would've been more invested in such a combat than I was in Eowyn's. Come to think of it, besides that one quick light-show to liberate King Theoden, we have not actually beheld Gandalf the White in action once! Even Gandalf the Gray we got to see duel a Balrog. I keep being told how much more powerful Gandalf the White is, but I'm apparently going to have to take everyone's word for it, because Tolkien simply refuses to show it.
Another anti-climax: the arrival of Aragorn from the Paths of the Dead. While I'll admit it was somewhat stirring to see the Black-sailed Navy suddenly unfurl the long-lost banner of the King (in the original False Flag operation) to the rejoicing of Rohan and the dismay of Mordor, nevertheless the utter absence of the actual Oathbreakers in the ensuing melee had me scratching my head.
Of course my reading is still far too colored by the Peter Jackson film, wherein these swarming ghosts pour from the ships to make short work of the hosts of Mordor in a thrilling shower of CGI. Tolkien, by contrast, does not even bother to show them in the climactic moment. I complained earlier about how left-field the Oathbreakers felt to the narrative, but if you're going to introduce them, then at least have the decency to show them! Does everything Aragorn-related--his stare-down with Sauron, the reforging of the Sword--have to happen off screen?? The titular Return of the King should not feel so strangely off-handed. Here is another moment that I am going to have concede to the Jackson version.
More egregiously, in the Tolkien text, some of Mordor's most vicious forces are made up of what are clearly black people, "black men like half-trolls with white eyes and red tongues"--which is, you know, hugely problematic. Likewise, the fact that this war is explicitly presented as a battle between the innumerable hordes of the East verses the noble-men of the West has profoundly uncomfortable Orientalist valences (a deep-seated European fear of Asia that so often justified the West's most repressive colonialism) that would have sent Edward Sa'id's eyes rolling into his head. Again, the Professor is clearly rushing at this point, as shown by how some of his most deep-seated, culturally-conditioned prejudices are starting to seep through.
Ben's Thoughts (12/14/16)
So Jacob's right, the "black men" line is inexcusably racist by today's standards, and there is serious anticlimax with respect to Gandalf's confrontation with the Witch-king at the gate and Aragorn's sudden arrival thanks to his (off-screen) victory at Pelargir. Even more silly, the ships aren't full of the Dead, as we've been expecting this whole time -- as we'll learn later, they were released from their oaths at Pelargir and now the ships are full of defenders from Gondor's southern countries. The Dead are a plot device only fit to be used in a flashback, I suppose.
But despite all that -- despite the at-times disjointed plotting, and the utter refusal to shift POVs between characters, which would create a more stable, flowing narrative (for instance, don't go into Eowyn being taken into the city right after the battle with the Witch-king, save that for later; instead, jump right to the action with Eomer and Aragorn!) -- despite all that, I still think this is a masterful chapter.
Why? Two reasons. One: the confrontation and defeat of the Witch-king. And two: the concluding poem. I'll take them in turn.
I would submit that the Lord of the Nazgul has been one of the book's antagonists built up well from the very beginning. He's the one who stabbed Frodo all the way back in Book I; he's the one to make a powerful appearance at the head of the Morgul army in Book IV; and he's the one who's been plaguing our heroes in this book as everything comes to a head at Minas Tirith. So we know what he's capable of, we know what a dangerous and powerful foe he is. So to have him so easily dispatch Theoden and then launch his assault on Eowyn is a terrifying thing for the reader.
And I know the reveal that Dernhelm was actually (surprise!) Eowyn the whole time is something of a non-starter -- only the most obtuse of readers would fail to recognize that twist (to the degree that, in the Peter Jackson film, he does away with the silly reveal; Merry knows its Eowyn the whole time). Even so, when she takes off that helmet, defying the Black Rider: "[T]he helm of her secrecy . . . had fallen from her, and her bright hair, released from its bonds, gleamed with pale gold upon her shoulders. Her eyes grey as the sea were hard and fell, and yet tears were on her cheek. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy’s eyes." That's a powerful moment.
I know the set-up for the "no living man" thing was not well laid for the reader. In this book, all you get is Gandalf's allusion to it in "Seige of Gondor." But by delving into the backstory, the reader finds that a long-ago prophecy foretold that not by hand of man would the Witch-king fall. And even without the knowledge of a prophecy, I argue that the Nazgul's defeat is an effective moment: all the male riders of the king's house have either died and abandoned him in the face of such a threat; Eomer is off fighting elsewhere; and here is Eowyn, alone save for Merry, facing down the most terrible threat on the battlefield:
Still she did not blench: maiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings, slender but as a steel-blade, fair but terrible. A swift stroke she dealt, skilled and deadly. The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone. Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away. A light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise.And of course it is Merry and Eowyn together that manage to subdue the Witch-king, who is but an expression of his master's contempt and disregard for all that he perceives as weak and worthless (hobbits, in particular, have been the focus of his disgust, as we saw through Pippin's experience in "Palantir" in Book IV). As Jacob points out, Sauron cannot see everything; cannot control everything. His disregard for what he considers beneath him is his (and his servant's) ultimate undoing. Powerful stuff, in my opinion.
And next, that poem, and the paragraph preceding it. I know our main characters, the Fellowship in particular, are protected by plot armor. But Theoden does die -- in battle, yes, but when you boil it down, because his horse rolled over him at the wrong moment and crushed him. And that long list of others, including Halbarad, Aragorn's Dunedain friend, and Grimbold, and a host of other secondary and tertiary characters whose names have been tossed around for the last two books. War is not free. It seems such a waste that victory, even the crushing victory the battle turned into after Aragorn arrived, should result in that many deaths. I find the lines about how those men will never return home, never again revisit the beautiful places they loved, never again see their families or lead their people, to be particularly poignant.
Tolkien of course, in concluding the poem, uses description to powerful effect, as he mirrors the landscape and the setting sun with the death and destruction and loss of the battlefield: "Grey now as tears, gleaming silver, / red then it rolled, roaring water: / foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset; / as beacons mountains burned at evening; / red fell the dew in Rammas Echor."
Too bad that that book still has several tedious chapters before its conclusion and we can get on to Frodo and Sam. Fortunately, "Pyre," coming up next, has some meaty stuff to it.
Eric's Thoughts (3/9/17)
I can never remember how to spell Pelennor. Hopefully Ben did, because I copied/pasted his title into this post.
As the tardy reader now among the group, I get to have the pleasure of analyzing Ben and Jacob's analyses -- and critiquing them! Ben it looks like thought this chapter was "masterful," while Jacob found the chapter as a good teaching example of the term "anti-climax." I tend to agree with Jacob. For what should have been an epic war scene, I found myself for the most part disengaged. Now, let's be clear: the chapter wasn't bad. Stuff certainly was happening. But I think the chapter could have been a lot better than it was -- and it needed some more work. It could have been an amazing chapter. Instead it's only ok.
While I was reading, I asked myself: why is this stuff not grabbing me? Ben previously talked about how he thought Tolkien's prose was some of the best fantasy writing ever. It's hard to disagree that Tolkien uses some brilliant descriptions and turns of language. But the parts don't necessarily add up to the sum. The text often reads dry (this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened). There just aren't any compelling moments that put you inside the a character's head. I think that's the primary problem here -- stuff happens, sure, but the stuff is meaningless without a compelling character to guide us through the battle.
Tolkien tries to guide us through the chapter through the eyes of Dernhelm (oh wait! Eowyn), but she's sadly an extremely undeveloped character that only previously made one or two cameos. (As for Merry, well, ya'll know my thoughts on Merry.) Further, there doesn't really appear to be any consistent POV throughout the chapter, and Tolkien instead seems to take an omniscient narrator role in saying this happened, and then this happened.
For me, the most interesting part is when Aragon raises his banner in the ships -- I found it intriguing that Aragon had stars on his banner in addition to the tree of Gondor. A good little detail. However, then the chapter went back to the "then this" flow. And then I was drumming my fingers again.
So, my verdict is the chapter had a few moments that made me forget I was reading. And the chapter wasn't bad. I just think Jacob is right that Tolkien seems to be rushing here.
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