Chapter 10: The Voice of Saruman
Eric's Thoughts (8/20/15)
So. Here we are at what I remember to be one of my favorite chapters of the whole series. Everyone else seems psyched about Saruman's cameo just like I do. The question is -- does it live up to the hype???
Fortunately -- it does! Hooray! A true engaging chapter. I remember many times while being bored at church I would jump to and read this chapter. Something about it is really fun.
The plot is simple: the characters approach Saruman, who is holed up in Orthanc. The purpose of the meeting seems completely unclear and pointless. If he's that dangerous, why even bother talking to him? Gandalf reveals near the end was that the purpose was to give Saruman a chance of redemption, even though Gandalf knows that Saruman will reject it.
Besides the obvious -- that showing mercy is distinguishing factor of good from evil -- the point of this chapter really is to have a marvelous confrontation. A chapter like this shows that the most engaging parts of a story are not when fights occur, but when characters confront one another and really try to **** each other through dialogue.
Not dialogue that says "We meet again, Mr. Bond. You'll never escape this time. I think a nice . . . shark tank is what's in order here." But dialogue where the characters are trying to influence each other, and there's a decision where the influence could lead to a pivotal choice. This is what creates the most memorable moments in fiction.
Thus, a simple plot. But the confrontation is complex. Many paragraphs are spent describing the power of the voice. What Saruman says itself is not particularly convincing. But Tolkien spends so much time describing the voice, and its power, that the reader can visually see these puny mortals falling under its spell. It's an enchanting effect, both to the characters in the story, and the reader.
I found myself almost WANTING Saruman to prevail. And when he was beaten, it was a most unpleasant sensation. I too, had fallen under Saruman's spell.
Jacob's Thoughts (8/22/15)
Because that's what breaks the spell, isn't it--a good strong belly laugh, one that shakes everyone awake, utterly deflates Saruman's pretensions, puts him in his place and sets Gandalf the White as the new head of the Counsel. I've heard it argued before that humor can actually be inherently cruel, even tyrannical, for by its very nature it must exclude and ostracize those who don't get the joke, and functions primarily by cutting others down to size. And indeed, if one is a bully who punches down, then yes, humor can be a vicious (not to mention petty) tool of the oppressor indeed.
But against the vicious, the cruel, the bullying and the tyrannical themselves, humor can be an effective weapon of liberation, and Gandalf seems to intuit this. In contrast to the two previous meandering chapters, Tolkien here does a masterful job of describing succinctly, through both show and tell, just how smooth a talker Saruman can be, how honeyed sweet his words are, how easy he is to like, how simple, natural, rationale it must feel to believe him. It's clear now that Grimace Wormtongue was but the apprentice to the master--in another life, Saruman could have been the world's greatest salesman.
I know the type well; real-life salesmen use the exact same tactics. I'd wondered aloud in previous chapters if Sauron had once been able to sell the major races of Middle Earth on his Rings of Power precisely because he did not then appear as the living embodiment of evil, but because he was such a smooth-talking salesman, a handsome young gent appearing as an angel of light, with a sharp suit and a winning smile who threw his arm around your shoulders and assured you he was your best friend, and boy did he have a deal for you! But I guess I don't need to see ages-old Sauron in action anymore, because I have now seen the exact same tactics on display with Saruman, who has learned from the Dark Lord well.
And Saruman even here follows the exact same trajectory as Sauron--for once the sales-pitch either finishes or fails, then the whole smiley facade drops, and the real malice that undergirded the sales-pitch comes swiftly simmering to the surface. If the sale succeeded, then they have you lashed under an impossible contract filled with hidden fees that they will exact to their fullest; and if the sale failed, then they lash out petulantly and hypocritically, as though you were the one who tried to rob them.
The first scenario Sauron has fulfilled to a T, and the latter Saruman has followed to the letter. Sauron is still too dangerous to laugh at just yet, but Saruman has elicited from Gandalf the White the only response he deserves--he has laughed at him. For what poor, fallen Saruman has sought above all else is power, authority, control, to be respected and taken seriously--and nothing signifies that no one takes you seriously anymore than to be laughed at. I suspect that with that guffaw, Gandalf cut an even deeper wound into Saruman than all the destructive fury of Ents--and that Gandalf emasculated him even more fully than when he commanded his staff to snap in two. It is one of the most satisfying laughs in literature.
Eric's right, this chapter is wonderful! It's right up there with "A Knife in the Dark" and "The Bridge of Khazad-dûm" as one of the highlights of the entire series--and the wonder of it is there is scarcely any action at all (aside from the apparent off-screen murder of Grima by Saruman), just a war of words with greater tension and sense of stakes than the entire Battle of Helm's Deep. I've noticed that as we've progressed, we have all begrudgingly sided more and more with Peter Jackson's artistic choices over Tolkien's, but this scene is not one of them--whereas in the film Saruman is just a generic baddie and the final confrontation is a forgettable cut-scene, here on the pages it is a masterful battle between two former friends for whom the tables have turned totally. Gandalf the White doesn't even use magic to defeat Saruman this time--he doesn't have to anymore.
Ben's Thoughts (9/17/15)
Saruman is such a fascinating character. Sauron is a straightforward, evil-for-evil's-sake, mustache-twirling villain, as we'll see in the next chapter, when he tortures Pippin for no reason other than gloating over his pain and doesn't have the foresight to question the hobbit before severing their contact, so sure is he of his point-of-view. (More on that in the next chapter; this "fixed gaze" theme is something Tolkien continually revisits with Sauron.) But Saruman? We see such glimpses in this chapter of Saruman's nature; his drives and passions; the man he once was and the man healmost started to become again -- and, of course, his ultimate and final rejection of that path.
Gandalf is absolutely correct in saying that Saruman's control is slipping. I'm sure the old Saruman would never have let Eomer's clumsy attempts to brush off Saruman's spell-weaving anger him as much as it does here. But he recovers quickly, with an interesting appeal to Rohan's own history: "the House of Eorl is stained with murder; for they have fought many wars, and assailed many who defied them. Yet with some they have afterwards made peace, none the worse for being politic. I say, Théoden King: shall we have peace and friendship, you and I? It is ours to command." He compares the Rohirrim to himself, without even tacitly admitting he is at fault, and thereby paints them with the same brush as himself. It's a masterful line of rhetoric.
I love that Saruman addresses each and every person that come to face him in turn, molding his description of each to fit his strategy. Gimli is summarily dismissed, his opinions irrelevant, when he objects to Saruman's words: "Far away is your home and small concern of yours are the troubles of this land." Theoden is the "mightiest king of western lands," one he seeks to save from the "unwise and evil counsels" of Gandalf, until Theoden rejects him; then he is referred to as a "dotard" and his house "a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the dogs". Harsh, Saruman. The hobbits, for all his fascination in them, are called "small rag-tag." It's probably telling that the hobbits got a mention at all; Legolas and Aragorn he ignores entirely.
I find it fascinating that Saruman uses the peril of Mordor to his advantage. He insinuates that Gandalf is going to throw the Rohirrim against the might of Sauron: "Still I would save you, and deliver you from the ruin that drwas nigh inevitably, if you ride upon this road which you have taken." And he is not wrong: Gandalf does indeed intend to use every tool at his disposal to distract Sauron from the true peril creeping closer to his borders. The Rohirrim are just another quiver in his arrow to stave off the armies of Mordor until Frodo is able to finish his task. But Saruman's path for the Rohirrim wouldn't be any better; no doubt Saruman would ask them to fight for him in his own struggles with Sauron.
But of course it is Gandalf's conversation with Saruman that is the most compelling. Gandalf waits patiently for Saruman to betray himself in the eyes of the gathered watchers, confident in Theoden's ability to cast off the spell of the wizard's voice. He then laughs off Saruman's invitation to join him in Orthanc, with the amusing line that "the guest who has escaped from the roof, will think twice before he comes back in by the door." And finally, he offers his brother wizard a final chance to redeem himself: "Would it not be well to leave [Isengard] for a while? To turn to new things, perhaps? Think well, Saruman! Will you not come down?"
Tolkien then gives us a rare glimpse into the mind of the wizard: "they saw through the mask the anguish of a mind in doubt, loathing to stay and dreading to leave its refuge. For a second he hesitated, and no one breathed." What would have happened if Saruman had agreed to come down, to counsel with them and work with them in stopping Mordor? A more complex book than LOTR perhaps would have Saruman making that choice, and then enduring on among the forces of the good guys as a Gollum-like character, but Tolkien has set up Saruman to not be able to make that choice. "Pride and hate were conquering him," Tolkien writes. Saruman is too far gone to be able to humble himself to that degree. He is defiant to the end, despite that brief moment of hesitation.
The story of Saruman is of course a story of pride. He was jealous of Gandalf, jealous of the power of Mordor, and eager to lord over Men based on a belief of innate superiority. This Saruman could never throw himself at the mercy of Gandalf. To do so would admit that he had been right all along, and that Saruman had been wrong. Defiant to the last. "Pitiable" indeed, as Gandalf calls him. I think in Saruman there is a lesson and an example for all of us.
So. Here we are at what I remember to be one of my favorite chapters of the whole series. Everyone else seems psyched about Saruman's cameo just like I do. The question is -- does it live up to the hype???
Fortunately -- it does! Hooray! A true engaging chapter. I remember many times while being bored at church I would jump to and read this chapter. Something about it is really fun.
The plot is simple: the characters approach Saruman, who is holed up in Orthanc. The purpose of the meeting seems completely unclear and pointless. If he's that dangerous, why even bother talking to him? Gandalf reveals near the end was that the purpose was to give Saruman a chance of redemption, even though Gandalf knows that Saruman will reject it.
Besides the obvious -- that showing mercy is distinguishing factor of good from evil -- the point of this chapter really is to have a marvelous confrontation. A chapter like this shows that the most engaging parts of a story are not when fights occur, but when characters confront one another and really try to **** each other through dialogue.
Not dialogue that says "We meet again, Mr. Bond. You'll never escape this time. I think a nice . . . shark tank is what's in order here." But dialogue where the characters are trying to influence each other, and there's a decision where the influence could lead to a pivotal choice. This is what creates the most memorable moments in fiction.
Thus, a simple plot. But the confrontation is complex. Many paragraphs are spent describing the power of the voice. What Saruman says itself is not particularly convincing. But Tolkien spends so much time describing the voice, and its power, that the reader can visually see these puny mortals falling under its spell. It's an enchanting effect, both to the characters in the story, and the reader.
I found myself almost WANTING Saruman to prevail. And when he was beaten, it was a most unpleasant sensation. I too, had fallen under Saruman's spell.
Jacob's Thoughts (8/22/15)
"Then Gandalf laughed. The fantasy vanished like a puff of smoke.""Humorous" is certainly not the adjective anyone would use to describe LoTR(especially when compared to The Hobbit), but it is reassuring to see that Tolkien has not forgotten the subversive power of a good laugh.
Because that's what breaks the spell, isn't it--a good strong belly laugh, one that shakes everyone awake, utterly deflates Saruman's pretensions, puts him in his place and sets Gandalf the White as the new head of the Counsel. I've heard it argued before that humor can actually be inherently cruel, even tyrannical, for by its very nature it must exclude and ostracize those who don't get the joke, and functions primarily by cutting others down to size. And indeed, if one is a bully who punches down, then yes, humor can be a vicious (not to mention petty) tool of the oppressor indeed.
But against the vicious, the cruel, the bullying and the tyrannical themselves, humor can be an effective weapon of liberation, and Gandalf seems to intuit this. In contrast to the two previous meandering chapters, Tolkien here does a masterful job of describing succinctly, through both show and tell, just how smooth a talker Saruman can be, how honeyed sweet his words are, how easy he is to like, how simple, natural, rationale it must feel to believe him. It's clear now that Grimace Wormtongue was but the apprentice to the master--in another life, Saruman could have been the world's greatest salesman.
I know the type well; real-life salesmen use the exact same tactics. I'd wondered aloud in previous chapters if Sauron had once been able to sell the major races of Middle Earth on his Rings of Power precisely because he did not then appear as the living embodiment of evil, but because he was such a smooth-talking salesman, a handsome young gent appearing as an angel of light, with a sharp suit and a winning smile who threw his arm around your shoulders and assured you he was your best friend, and boy did he have a deal for you! But I guess I don't need to see ages-old Sauron in action anymore, because I have now seen the exact same tactics on display with Saruman, who has learned from the Dark Lord well.
And Saruman even here follows the exact same trajectory as Sauron--for once the sales-pitch either finishes or fails, then the whole smiley facade drops, and the real malice that undergirded the sales-pitch comes swiftly simmering to the surface. If the sale succeeded, then they have you lashed under an impossible contract filled with hidden fees that they will exact to their fullest; and if the sale failed, then they lash out petulantly and hypocritically, as though you were the one who tried to rob them.
The first scenario Sauron has fulfilled to a T, and the latter Saruman has followed to the letter. Sauron is still too dangerous to laugh at just yet, but Saruman has elicited from Gandalf the White the only response he deserves--he has laughed at him. For what poor, fallen Saruman has sought above all else is power, authority, control, to be respected and taken seriously--and nothing signifies that no one takes you seriously anymore than to be laughed at. I suspect that with that guffaw, Gandalf cut an even deeper wound into Saruman than all the destructive fury of Ents--and that Gandalf emasculated him even more fully than when he commanded his staff to snap in two. It is one of the most satisfying laughs in literature.
Eric's right, this chapter is wonderful! It's right up there with "A Knife in the Dark" and "The Bridge of Khazad-dûm" as one of the highlights of the entire series--and the wonder of it is there is scarcely any action at all (aside from the apparent off-screen murder of Grima by Saruman), just a war of words with greater tension and sense of stakes than the entire Battle of Helm's Deep. I've noticed that as we've progressed, we have all begrudgingly sided more and more with Peter Jackson's artistic choices over Tolkien's, but this scene is not one of them--whereas in the film Saruman is just a generic baddie and the final confrontation is a forgettable cut-scene, here on the pages it is a masterful battle between two former friends for whom the tables have turned totally. Gandalf the White doesn't even use magic to defeat Saruman this time--he doesn't have to anymore.
Ben's Thoughts (9/17/15)
Saruman is such a fascinating character. Sauron is a straightforward, evil-for-evil's-sake, mustache-twirling villain, as we'll see in the next chapter, when he tortures Pippin for no reason other than gloating over his pain and doesn't have the foresight to question the hobbit before severing their contact, so sure is he of his point-of-view. (More on that in the next chapter; this "fixed gaze" theme is something Tolkien continually revisits with Sauron.) But Saruman? We see such glimpses in this chapter of Saruman's nature; his drives and passions; the man he once was and the man healmost started to become again -- and, of course, his ultimate and final rejection of that path.
Gandalf is absolutely correct in saying that Saruman's control is slipping. I'm sure the old Saruman would never have let Eomer's clumsy attempts to brush off Saruman's spell-weaving anger him as much as it does here. But he recovers quickly, with an interesting appeal to Rohan's own history: "the House of Eorl is stained with murder; for they have fought many wars, and assailed many who defied them. Yet with some they have afterwards made peace, none the worse for being politic. I say, Théoden King: shall we have peace and friendship, you and I? It is ours to command." He compares the Rohirrim to himself, without even tacitly admitting he is at fault, and thereby paints them with the same brush as himself. It's a masterful line of rhetoric.
I love that Saruman addresses each and every person that come to face him in turn, molding his description of each to fit his strategy. Gimli is summarily dismissed, his opinions irrelevant, when he objects to Saruman's words: "Far away is your home and small concern of yours are the troubles of this land." Theoden is the "mightiest king of western lands," one he seeks to save from the "unwise and evil counsels" of Gandalf, until Theoden rejects him; then he is referred to as a "dotard" and his house "a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the dogs". Harsh, Saruman. The hobbits, for all his fascination in them, are called "small rag-tag." It's probably telling that the hobbits got a mention at all; Legolas and Aragorn he ignores entirely.
I find it fascinating that Saruman uses the peril of Mordor to his advantage. He insinuates that Gandalf is going to throw the Rohirrim against the might of Sauron: "Still I would save you, and deliver you from the ruin that drwas nigh inevitably, if you ride upon this road which you have taken." And he is not wrong: Gandalf does indeed intend to use every tool at his disposal to distract Sauron from the true peril creeping closer to his borders. The Rohirrim are just another quiver in his arrow to stave off the armies of Mordor until Frodo is able to finish his task. But Saruman's path for the Rohirrim wouldn't be any better; no doubt Saruman would ask them to fight for him in his own struggles with Sauron.
But of course it is Gandalf's conversation with Saruman that is the most compelling. Gandalf waits patiently for Saruman to betray himself in the eyes of the gathered watchers, confident in Theoden's ability to cast off the spell of the wizard's voice. He then laughs off Saruman's invitation to join him in Orthanc, with the amusing line that "the guest who has escaped from the roof, will think twice before he comes back in by the door." And finally, he offers his brother wizard a final chance to redeem himself: "Would it not be well to leave [Isengard] for a while? To turn to new things, perhaps? Think well, Saruman! Will you not come down?"
Tolkien then gives us a rare glimpse into the mind of the wizard: "they saw through the mask the anguish of a mind in doubt, loathing to stay and dreading to leave its refuge. For a second he hesitated, and no one breathed." What would have happened if Saruman had agreed to come down, to counsel with them and work with them in stopping Mordor? A more complex book than LOTR perhaps would have Saruman making that choice, and then enduring on among the forces of the good guys as a Gollum-like character, but Tolkien has set up Saruman to not be able to make that choice. "Pride and hate were conquering him," Tolkien writes. Saruman is too far gone to be able to humble himself to that degree. He is defiant to the end, despite that brief moment of hesitation.
The story of Saruman is of course a story of pride. He was jealous of Gandalf, jealous of the power of Mordor, and eager to lord over Men based on a belief of innate superiority. This Saruman could never throw himself at the mercy of Gandalf. To do so would admit that he had been right all along, and that Saruman had been wrong. Defiant to the last. "Pitiable" indeed, as Gandalf calls him. I think in Saruman there is a lesson and an example for all of us.
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