"The Battle of the Pelennor Fields" - Ben's Thoughts

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.