THAT OLD TEDDY BEAR
He's told all his tales
And leaked out his dreams.
He's emptying fast.
He's burst at the seams
Trying to make sense
Through unravelling threads
Of thoughts and events
Stuffed in his head.
Just sew him up tight
And put him away
Back in the old chest
And start a new day.
2/7/2018
I
decided that today I would take a personal day. I don’t know; I just don’t feel
up to doing even the minimal tasks I’ve set myself. Maybe it’s the ravages of
spring. Maybe it’s the world being turned into a festering pile of shite by the
idjits that seem to be in charge everywhere. Maybe it’s age creeping up on me. Usually,
I can scrabble around and find some sort of slippery fingerhold or inch of
reality to stand on, or the consolations of art to numb and distract me. I know
that the world is (or can be) a wonderful place, but I’m constantly reminded
that while it may be a passable inn it is not our home; not somewhere we can
relax. What’s heartbreaking is that there’s a vision of the world as a paradise
that seems achingly possible. (‘The world would be so beautiful if it weren’t
for certain people.’ ‘The world’s not crazy; just the people in it.’) Then the
heart does break, and we know we have to look for happiness Elsewhere.
Anyway,
I’ve just finished Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Master of Ballantrae and
begun The Wreckers (written with his stepson). Stevenson’s work is very compelling but also a bit
grim. Perhaps his influence on my mood, coupled with the very funny but nihilistic
ramblings of a stand-up whom I’m watching compulsively on YouTube (a bitter,
bitter fool) is not a very healthy diet. Or perhaps I’m seeking out
entertainment that simply matches my mood. In both sources there is enough
seasoning to make the meal compulsively palatable.
When
this mood is upon me (and I know it is a mood; when it passes, I go
skipping through the day) I do what I can to distract myself, and one of the
things I love to do is scour Amazon, looking for volumes obscure or books whose
existence flit in and out of my consciousness, and adding the to the Wish List.
As long as I have an ounce of interest, ‘I can stand living in this cold, cruel,
damnable world’. No; that sounds more theatrical than the actual feeling. But a
bright possibility dangled like a carrot before me does keep me moving along
through these little valleys of shadow. Those who know me might ask, well, what about my religious convictions? Well, they are the things that keep me flying the flag of this world. If I believed there were only secular or scientific dimensions to reality, I would have completely despaired long ago.
Be that as it may, here are some books and movies that are now on my Wish List. There are some (like the Tolkien) that I will almost definitely get; others will probably season for a while until I make up my mind.
The
guards challenge the travelers in the tongue of the Riddermark. ‘Stay,
strangers here unknown!’ They ask their names and why they have come. They look
at Gandalf with dark eyes. Apparently wizardly-looking people are under suspicion
with Saruman acting up. Gandalf answers them in the same language. He
understands their tongue, but few strangers do. What’s the meaning of this new
procedure?
It
is Theoden’s orders that no-one should enter who aren’t friends that know their
speech, their own people or those from Mundburg (Minas Tirith). But who are
they, that come riding on horses that look like their own, and so strangely
clad? ‘Say, are you not a wizard, some spy from Saruman, or phantoms of his
craft?’
Aragorn
answers them in their own language. They are no phantoms, and these are indeed
horses of Rohan they ride, as he suspects they already knew. But they have come
returning the beasts that Eomer loaned them: ‘seldom does thief ride home to
the stable.’ Hasn’t Eomer given word of their coming?
The
guard looks troubled. Perhaps their coming is not totally unexpected. He will
say nothing of Eomer, but it was only two nights ago that Wormtongue gave
orders as if by Theoden that no stranger should pass the gates.
‘Wormtongue?’
Gandalf looks at him sharply. Their errand is not to Wormtongue, but to the
King himself. Will he not announce them? He bends his gaze upon the man until
he slowly agrees to go. But who will he say has come?
Gandalf
identifies himself; he has returned, and Shadowfax is with him. And he brings
Aragorn the heir of Kings, Legolas the Elf, and Gimli the Dwarf. Their purpose
is to have speech with the King, if he will let them in his halls. Go now and
tell him so.
The
guard agrees but tells them not to hope too much; these are dark days. He
leaves them with his fellow guards, and after some time returns. They may come
in, but must leave all weapons behind, ‘be it only a staff.’ The doorwardens
will keep them.
They
leave the guard and climb the steps up to the entrance of Meduseld, under the alert
eyes of the watchmen. When they reach the terrace at the top, they are greeted
by Hama, the Doorward of Theoden. He asks them (courteously) to surrender their
weapons.
Legolas
gives him his knife, his quiver, and his bow; when Hama hears they are from the
Lady of Lothlorien herself, he handles them a little fearfully. That land has a
sorcerous reputation in Rohan. But Aragorn hesitates before surrendering his
sword Anduril. It is his ancient heritage, from the line of the Kings of
Gondor. He would, in courtesy, surrender any other sword, even it was only in a
woodman’s hut, but not this sword. Hama says he must, if he would not fight
alone against all the men of Edoras. Not alone, Gimli replies, fingering his
axe. Not alone.
Gandalf
defuses the situation with some diplomatic words and offers his own sword,
Glamdring, to the doorkeeper. Aragorn slowly hands over Anduril, after threatening
death to anyone who draws it besides himself. Gimli says that if it has Aragorn’s
blade to keep it company, his axe can lay there too. They prepare to go in, but
Hama stops them again.
“Your
staff,’ the guard tells Gandalf. You have to leave that behind too. ‘Foolishness!’
said Gandalf. ‘Prudence is one thing, but discourtesy is another. I am old. If
I may not lean on my stick as I go, then I will sit out here, until it pleases
Theoden to hobble out himself to speak with me.’ Aragorn laughs. Everyone has something
they find hard to part with! But Hama wouldn’t part an old man from his
support?
‘The staff in the hand of a wizard may be more than a prop for age,’ said Hama. He looked hard at the ash-staff on which Gandalf leaned. ‘Yet in doubt a man of worth will trust to his own wisdom. I believe you are friends and folk worthy of honor, who have no evil purpose. You may go in.’
The
guards lift the bars on the doors and swing them open. The travelers enter in.
It seems warm and dim inside. The hall is long and wide, upheld with mighty
pillars, its walls covered with tapestries and its floor with carved runes.
Smoke, thin and wispy, rises up to the high louvre [‘an opening to allow
ventilation’]. From the eastern windows a beam of sunlight falls on one
particular tapestry, showing a young man with yellow hair on a spirited white
horse.
‘Behold
Eorl the Young!’ said Aragorn. ‘Thus he rode out of the North to the Battle of
the Field of Celebrant!’
Bits
and Bobs
Tom
Shippey, in The Road to Middle-earth, points out the many parallels here
in Old English works, especially from Beowulf. The ritual of challenge and
response with the unnamed guard and later with Hama echoes the exchange between
Beowulf and the coastal guard when he lands in Hrothgar’s Kingdom. In both the
poem and here in LOTR the guards use their discretion (beyond their orders) to
let the travelers pass.
The description of Meduseld, Theoden’s hall, also follows closely Hrothgar’s hall of Heorot. The only outstanding deviation is the use of a louver (a word and concept of French derivation). Tolkien likes to reproduce historical situations but includes some not historically unfitting upgrades.
We
are teased with a slight introduction to Wormtongue. The element of ‘worm-‘ in
the name refers to an older term used for ‘snake, serpent’. It implies that he
is crafty and subtle, but possibly that his speech is also poisonous and devious,
that he might indeed speak, in the old cliché, ‘with a forked tongue’.
While the name of Eorl, the first King of Rohan, is merely the Old English word for ‘one of the nobility; earl’.
The
Origins of Tolkien’s Middle-earth for Dummies by Greg Harvey
(2003)
The
reason I sent off for this biblia abiblia is an odd little tale in
itself. Of course, I had been aware of it for quite some time, but never really
felt the need to purchase it. I thought it unlikely to tell me anything that I
did not already know, and that if it did say anything original it would probably
be some personal opinion or modern interpretation that would be factually worthless.
BUT …
several times my nephew Kameron came to me, asking about the thing, swearing he
had actually seen it in my archives. I asked him if he could be confusing it
with my old Cliff Notes pamphlet on Tolkien’s work, but he said no. I looked it
up on Amazon and saw there were many adequate copies for dirt cheap, so on a
whim I sent off for one (why not?), if only to satisfy his restless
questioning.
It
arrived today, and I’ve given it a quick once over. It covers some tiny bit of
the Jackson movies (but not The Return of the King, which only came out
that same year) but is mainly concerned with The Hobbit, The Lord of
the Rings, and The Silmarillion. A quick review tells me it does
espouse some ‘modern’ views on Tolkien’s idea of the roles of men and women, as
well as government, morality, and ‘political correctness’ (Tolkien refers to
humanity as ‘Men’? Horrors!). But it seems at first glance to be mainly a
rundown of the background, facts, and ‘lore’ of the Legendarium.
My
copy is rather dog-eared (as one would expect a twenty-year-old softcover to be),
but in perfectly adequate shape for what it is: a reference book that will most
likely not become a treasured resource. It has some good comics, though.
Gandalf,
Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas ride far into the night, only pausing a few hours as
Gandalf keeps watch and lets the others sleep. They get up and ride again under
the cold moonlight. As the sun rises they enter a land of grass and glens,
flowing down from the dark mountains. Far away under the tallest peak they
catch a gleam like gold flashing in the morning sun. Gandalf asks the
far-sighted Legolas to tell them what he sees.
‘I
see a white stream that comes down from the snows … Where it issues from the
shadow of the vale a green hill rises upon the east. A dike and mighty wall and
thorny fence encircle it. Within there rise the roofs of houses; and in the
midst, set upon a green terrace, there stands aloft a great hall of Men. And it
seems to my eyes that it is thatched with gold. The light of it shines far over
the land. Golden, too, are the posts of its doors. There men in bright mail
stand, but all else within the courts are yet asleep.’
Those
courts are Edoras, and that golden hall is Meduseld, where Theoden son of
Thengel is king. Gandalf warns that it may seem a sleepy place right now, but the
Rohirrim are near war, and they are watchful. Don’t draw any weapons or speak
any haughty words, at least until they before Theoden, seat.
As
they ride in closer, they notice many signs of spring already in this southerly
land. The plain is green and close to the flowing streams the willows are
showing signs of blooming. At the foot of the walled hill there are mounds
covered with white flowers like snow, seven mounds on the left and nine mounds
on the right. These are the barrows of the Kings of Rohan. The white flowers
are Simbelmyne, or Evermind, that ‘grow where dead men rest’ and blossom all
year round. It was five hundred years ago they were started, just a blink of
the eye to Legolas, but it seems a dim and misty age to mortal Men.
Aragorn chants part of an old song of the Rohirrim, laden with the sadness of Mortal Men at the passing of time. ‘It is like the land itself; rich and rolling in part and else as hard and stern as the mountains.’ They pass the silent mounds and come to gates of Edoras. Many guards sitting there leap up and bar their way with spears. They look at Gandalf darkly.
Bits
and Bobs
Tolkien,
of course, was for twenty years the Rawlinson and Bosworth Professor of
Anglo-Saxon. His lectures on Beowulf changed all scholarship on that epic poem
ever after. Before that it had been seen as a rather childish primitive effort,
good as a quarry for historical insights, but no comparison to Greek or Latin
poetry.
Here
in “The King of the Golden Hall” we get what Tom Shippey calls a ‘calque’ [‘loan
translation’] on Anglo-Saxon culture. The Rohirrim are, of course, not Anglo-Saxon
(this is feigned to be many years before that folk), but they are so close they
can be ‘translated’ into that culture. Whenever you hear Rohirric names and
language you are hearing Anglo-Saxon. Meduseld is the Old English for ‘mead-hall’;
Edoras means simply ‘dwellings, houses’.
The song
that Aragorn recites is in the form of the Old English poetry called by modern
scholars ‘Ubi Sunt?’ “Ubi sunt (literally
"where are... [they]") is a rhetorical question taken from the Latin Ubi sunt qui ante
nos fuerunt?, meaning "Where are those who were before us?" Ubi
nunc...? ("Where now?") is a common variant. Sometimes
interpreted to indicate nostalgia, the ubi sunt motif is actually
a meditation on mortality and life's transience.” – Wikipedia.
From
Lothlorien, Galadriel has sent messages by Gandalf to Aragorn and Legolas. She
tells Aragorn that it is the time for him to come forth, that the Grey Company
shall ride from the North, and to remember ‘the Dead watch the road that leads
to the Sea.’ She warns Legolas that if he does indeed come to the Sea, he shall
no more rest content in the forest.
Gandalf
falls silent, and Gimli is at first disappointed that there seems to be no
message for him: he would be glad to hear from Galadriel even if she only
prophesied his death. Gandalf snaps out of his reverie and says there was a
message for him: ‘Lockbearer, wherever thou goest my thought goes with thee.
But have a care to lay thine axe to the right tree!’ Gimli capers with joy,
singing in the strange dwarf-tongue. ‘Come, come! … Since Gandalf’s head is now
sacred, let us find one that is right to cleave!’
That
won’t be hard to find. Gandalf rises from his seat and says they must leave
now. The reunion is over; they must get to work. They climb down Treebeard’s
Hill and go back to the edge of the woods and into the fields beyond. Legolas notes their horses have not returned,
and it will be a weary walk. Gandalf says he shall not walk; they’re in a
hurry. He whistles three times, a high and piercing note.
Across
the plains come THREE horse; not only Arod and Hasufel, but ‘a very great
horse.’ Gandalf identifies him as Shadowfax, the chief of the Mearas, who
themselves are the lords of horses. This is the very horse that Theoden
begrudgingly gave him, that took him to Rivendell, then returned to Rohan. Now
he has come to Gandalf to be the steed of the White Rider. ‘Does he not shine
like silver, and run as smoothly as a swift stream?’
At
seeing Gandalf, Shadowfax outpaces the other two and races forward to bow his
proud head and nuzzle the old wizard’s neck fondly. ‘Far let us ride now
together, and part not in this world again!’ The other two horses catch up and
stand, as if awaiting orders, and Gandalf addresses them, saying they shall all
return to their home, and, by their leave, shall ride on them. Legolas
understands now their joy last night: they had met their chief! Yes, yesterday Gandalf
had already ‘bent his thought upon him’, calling the great horse to him.
Aragorn
gets on Hasufel once more and Legolas on Arod, with Gimli up behind Gandalf on
Shadowfax. The great horse has a keen sense of direction and chooses the
quickest path to Edoras. He sets a fast pace, but no faster than the other
horses can run, and leads them all to safe fords and past treacherous bogs,
knowing all the ways of his native land. ‘For many hours they road on through
the meads and riverlands. Often the grass was so high that it reached above the
knees of the riders, and their steeds seemed to be swimming in a grey-green
sea.’
As
the sun sets, it seems to be darkened to the color of blood by a distant rising
smoke.
‘There
lies the Gap of Rohan,’ said Gandalf. ‘It is now almost due west of us. That
way lies Isengard.’
‘I
see a great smoke,’ said Legolas. ‘What may that be?’
‘Battle
and war!’ said Gandalf. ‘Ride on!’
Bits
and Bobs
Galadriel’s
messages are not prophecies; they are not things she has seen in her Mirror,
but deductions and wise guesses that she can divine from the great knowledge
she has of the world, counsels and reminders of important facts. Gimli is
delighted by her message to him, and since he has ‘set his axe to the wrong
tree’ by wanting to attack Gandalf thinking he was Saruman, he must find
another head to cleave in his excess of good spirits. Gandalf’s head is now ‘sacred’,
an interesting term to use in Middle-earth, suggesting his hallowed and
protected person.
Gandalf
is shown to have quite a few powers here: to bend his thought upon things from
a distance (perhaps suggested before in his struggle with the Eye over Frodo on
Amon Hen) and communicate with even ordinary horses (maybe shown in his words
of blessing and direction on Bill the Pony before the Doors of Moria).
Shadowfax
is described as a very wise beast indeed, and quite the leader among horses,
tempering his speed to his comrades, leading them all through tricky and
dangerous landscapes, and running almost tirelessly over the leagues. It is
interesting to note that Tolkien himself loved and respected horses; he even had
the job of breaking in horses for the army during World War One, another
unsuspected talent for a man mostly renowned for his imagination and scholarly
skills. Perhaps he even met Colonel Potter sometime along the way. (Yuk Yuk!)
Mearas is simply the Anglo-Saxon word for ‘horses’; you can easily hear it in the word ‘mares’. Gandalf (and the Elves) do not use saddles, bridles, bits, or spurs, but a close connection and friendship with their beasts to guide their paths and urge them to speed.
Gandalf
looks up and says soon they must go. Aragorn asks if they are going to find
Merry and Pippin and see this Treebeard. But Gandalf says their road lies
elsewhere. He has spoken of hope, but war is still upon them all, and they have
another mission to follow, which may yet fail. ‘I am Gandalf, Gandalf the White,
but Black is mightier still.’ He is glad the Ring is far beyond their reach,
because with the mounting danger the temptation to use it will grow ever
greater still.
But
Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas have promised to go to Edoras and seek out Theoden
in his hall. There is war in Rohan, in which Aragorn’s sword Anduril must join.
Theoden himself is suffering a worse evil. Will they go with Gandalf?
Aragorn
says without horses the battle might well be over before they get there. But he
looks at Gandalf with a keen eye, then says he thinks Gandalf could get there
before him, if he wished. ‘And this also I say: you are our captain and our
banner. The Dark Lord has Nine: But we have One, mightier than they: the White
Rider. He has passed through fire and the abyss, and they shall fear him. We
will go where he leads.’
But
Legolas wants to know first how Gandalf came out alive, and Gimli agrees,
asking what happened with the Balrog. ‘Name him not!’ Gandalf looks in pain and
as old as death for a moment, then slowly begins recounting the tale, as if
looking back with difficulty.
He and the Balrog fell together for a long time. The Balrog’s fire burned him. But they landed at last into deep cold water at the bottom of the abyss. The Balrog’s flame was quenched, but it became a thing of slime, stronger than a strangling snake. They fought there far under the living earth, the Balrog clutching and Gandalf hewing at his enemy. At last the Balrog fled upward through dark tunnels, with Gandalf clinging to his heels, through the dark ways under the mountain, where the world is gnawed by nameless things. The demon knew the passages only too well.
They finally reached the Endless Stair, made long ago by the Dwarves but lost to legend, reaching ‘from the lowest dungeon to the highest peak’ in a long spiral staircase of thousands of steps, till it reached Durin’s Tower on the very pinnacle of the mountain. As the Balrog leapt out into the fiercely burning sun there it immediately burst out again into flame.
Their battle resumes again. Those that saw it from afar thought there was a storm upon the peak, with thunder and lightning and broken flames. Smoke and a vapor of steam rose about them, and ice fell like rain. Finally Gandalf throws down the Balrog, whose fall shatters the mountainside. ‘Then darkness took me, and I wandered far on roads that I will not tell.’
‘Naked
I was sent back – for a brief time, until my task is done.’ The wizard lay
there trapped alone on the mountain side, tower, window, and stair behind him
broken and shattered, while each day seemed to last forever as he listened to
the faint rumors of the lands below.
At
last Gwaihir appeared, sent by Lady Galadriel to find him if he could, and the
eagle bears him back to Lothlorien. The newly returned wizard is light as a
feather in his claw, and the Sun seems to shine through him. Gandalf gets to
Caras Galadon just shortly after the Fellowship leaves. There he rested and was
healed from his ordeal, and there he was clothed in white.
Bits
and Bobs
Tolkien
had much to say about the death and return of Gandalf in a draft letter in late
1954. Here he makes it clear that Gandalf is an ‘incarnate angel’, subject to
both weariness and death of the body. Although first sent to Middle-earth by
the Valar with the other wizards as a prudential plan to counsel the Free
Peoples against Sauron, after his sacrificial death he wanders ‘out of Time’
(and one must remember that Valinor, though peopled with the Undying, is still
within Time), his spirit is enhanced and sent back to his body by ‘the
Authority’ (Eru, God). Gandalf must still operate under the old conditions of
his mission (not to dominate or just do the Free Peoples job for them), but he
now has the authority to temporarily step in when a condition is beyond mortal means.
It's
a shame so many Dwarvish antiquities are destroyed by Gandalf on his journey,
starting with the Bridge of Khazad-dum, to the Endless Stair and Durin’s Tower.
But them’s the breaks, and as I’ve lately grown fond of saying, nothing lasts
forever.
It
would be curious to know exactly what physical items survived Gandalf’s fight.
I mean, apparently his staff didn’t, because he had to rough-cut a new one. I
suppose the ‘old grey rags’ covering his white clothes must be remnants of his
old clothing; it’s hard to imagine he would pick them up in Lothlorien. And
obviously he still has Glamdring.
‘What
do you wish to know?’ said Aragorn. ‘All that has happened since we parted on
the bridge would be a long tale. Will you not first give us news of the
hobbits?’
Gandalf
says he did not find Merry and Pippin and did not know of their capture until the
eagle Gwahir the Windlord (the same who had rescued him from Orthanc and whom
Legolas has been seeing over the past few days) told him. He had sent the eagle
to scout the Great River, but he can’t see everything that happens under ‘hill
and tree’. But Gandalf knows the Ring has passed beyond the reach of any of the
Company. He was the rather acerbic Voice that opposed the Eye on Amon Hen, which
allowed Frodo to escape. But now Frodo has passed beyond the wizard’s sight.
All he knows is that Frodo resolved to go alone into Mordor.
Not
alone, says Legolas. They think Sam went with him. ‘Good! Very good!’ This
lightens his heart but doesn’t surprise him greatly: he knows something about
Samwise Gamgee’s heart. But now the others must tell him what happened to them.
Aragorn takes up the tale and when he comes to
the fall of Boromir, Gandalf sighs. The Ranger has not told him everything, but
he guesses (from what Galadriel has told him and from what he knows of Boromir’s
circumstances) the trial that the man underwent. ‘But he escaped in the end.’ It
was good for him that the young hobbits were there to give an occasion for his
redemption, just as it was good that they came to Fangorn. They are like two
small stones that will start an avalanche. Saruman had best not be far from
home when the dam bursts!
Aragorn
says that the wizard has not completely changed. He still talks in riddles! Gandalf
replies that he was just talking aloud to himself, a habit of the old: to talk
to the wisest person present to avoid long explanations. Aragorn says he is no
longer young, even in the reckoning of the Men of ancient days. But can’t he
explain things a little clearer?
Gandalf
pauses for a while, then says that, in brief, is here how he sees the situation.
Sauron has known for a long time that the Ring is abroad borne by a hobbit. He
knew when the Fellowship left Rivendell, how many they were and the kind of
each. But he doesn’t know the aim of their quest. Sauron cannot imagine that
anyone would think to destroy the Ring; rather, that they would take it to a
strong place like Minas Tirith, where one would emerge as the new Ring-lord.
That’s what he would do in their place. So he’s started his moves earlier than
he had planned, in an effort to hit so hard he needn’t hit again. Wise fool. If
he’d stayed behind the walls of Mordor and guarded his walls, their plan would
have had no chance.
But
Sauron knows that none of the forces he has sent out have captured the Ring or
any hobbits who could have been tortured to reveal their plan. And that was
thanks to Saruman – who is still a traitor to the West, but also to Sauron. He
wanted the Ring for himself, or at least hobbits for his evil schemes. But
between Saruman and Sauron, they have brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn, where
they would otherwise never have come.
Sauron
now knows of Saruman’s treachery but cannot know if he has captured the Ring yet.
Gimli wishes Isengard and Mordor can just battle each other, but Gandalf says
the winner would emerge even stronger. But Saruman can never get the Ring now.
He appeared on the battlefield too late and saw his Uruk-hai all burnt. He does
not know of their dissension with the Mordor Orcs, or if they had hobbits or
not, or about the Winged Messenger.
‘The
Winged Messenger!’ cried Legolas. ‘I shot at him with the bow of Galadriel
above Sarn Gebir, and I felled him from the sky. He filled us all with fear.
What is this new terror?’
Gandalf
says it is not a new terror, and it cannot be felled with an arrow, only its
steed. It was a great deed, but the rider was a Nazgul, mounted on a winged
steed. At the moment they are not allowed across the River, and Saruman does
not know of this new development. But Gandalf can guess much of Saruman’s
thoughts. It is on the Ring: was it at the battle, and does Rohan and King Theoden
have it? Saruman will now treble his attack on Rohan. But he is so busy with
thoughts of war he has forgotten Treebeard.
Aragorn
says he’s speaking in riddles again: what does the hobbits coming to the forest
have anything to do with things? But first Gimli must know if it was Gandalf or
Saruman that appeared to them last night? Wasn’t me, says Gandalf, so it must
have been Saruman. Legolas persists: what about the hobbits? Well, they met
Treebeard and the Ents.
Ents!
Aragorn exclaims. Are there still Ents in the world? He thought they were only
a memory, if not a legend. Legolas knows
they are not a legend: all Elves know their sad history. But if he was to meet
one, he would feel young indeed. But Treebeard is only the translation of
Fangorn. Is this a person?
Gandalf
explains that Treebeard is the oldest living Ent, indeed ‘the oldest living
thing that still walks beneath the Sun upon this Middle-earth.’ Gandalf saw him
four days ago while the wizard was still weary with struggling with the Eye and
they said nothing to each other.
Gimli
said from what he was told that Fangorn was dangerous.
‘Dangerous!’
cried Gandalf. ‘And so am I, very dangerous: more dangerous than anything you
will ever meet, unless you are brought alive before the seat of the Dark Lord.
And Aragorn is dangerous and Legolas is dangerous … you are dangerous yourself,
in your own fashion … and Fangorn himself, he is perilous; yet he is wise and
kindly nonetheless.’ But now something is going to happen since the Elder Days:
the Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong, though Gandalf
does not know what they will decide to do.
Bits
and Bobs
Not
so many bits or bobs this time, as this part of the chapter has much
explication of action that has gone before. But it does touch on several themes
that return and are emphasized later.
One
is the idea that evil actions can be used by Providence to bring about some good
that evil had never planned. Merry and Pippin are brought to the eaves of the
forest, where they meet Treebeard and are the catalyst for the Ents joining the
fight. This does not make the evil deed less evil but can redeem its
consequences.
Another
is that Evil has not enough imagination to understand Good, and thus cannot see
into its motives, which makes it blind to much in the world. Sauron sees that
the ‘logical’ and ‘wise’ thing to do is seize the power of the Ring; he can’t
understand that they would want to destroy it. It is this blind spot that
finally results in his downfall; he is a ‘wise fool’, weighing his opponents
plans by what he would do.
A
much debated saying in this chapter is Gandalf proclaiming that Treebeard is
the oldest living thing on Middle-earth. What then about Tom Bombadil, who
calls himself Eldest? Isn’t he alive? It has been argued that Gandalf means of
all the creatures who are not pre-existent spirits, who are ‘born’ and not
simply ‘embodied’. But there is still some ambiguity there. This would be on my
list of questions to ask Tolkien if he were still alive.
And
Gandalf talking about the danger of even good people reminds me of this
exchange from C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe:
‘Then [Aslan] isn’t safe?’ said. Lucy
‘Safe?’
said Mr. Beaver. ‘Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything
about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.’
‘My
very bones are chilled,’ said Gimli, flapping his arms and stamping his feet.’
It is the dawn of the day after the night that he, Aragorn, and Legolas saw the
mysterious old man and that their horses ran off, dragging their pickets. Now
they mean to search the ground for signs of Merry and Pippin.
And of
that old man. The dwarf would be happier if they found some physical trace of
him; then he might not have been some phantom of Saruman but simply an old
wanderer. Did he scare off the horses? Legolas wonders: they did not sound
fearful, but if they had just met some familiar friend. Aragorn concludes they
must leave these mysteries for now and first search for the hobbits.
Aragorn
searches carefully around their camp, then moves to the watch fire near the
riverbank. Heading towards the knoll he finds at last the first traces of the
hobbits. There are brown leaves of mallorn trees that once wrapped their
lembas; there are even some crumbs. There are cut bonds nearby, and Gimli even
finds the orc-knife that cut them, close at hand. They can’t quite figure out
how they had freed hands to do it, though. Legolas mentions that the fact that
they stopped to eat shows that it was at least one of the hobbits. And why was
there an Orc carrying them away?
Aragorn
guesses the facts pretty closely and deduces that their captors thought that
the hobbits had the Ring, and that there was treachery among their numbers. He
still can’t account for the freed hands, but they must leave that mystery aside
for now and follow the tracks into the darkness of Fangorn Forest. There are
light hobbit footprints on the verge, but the ground is too stony to tell
much.
They
enter the forest. It feels stuffy and old, but not evil; if there is evil,
Legolas says, it is far away. But there is a tenseness in the air, as if
something is going to happen. Gimli tells the elf to keep his bow ready, and he
will have his axe – but not for use on trees, he hastily adds, looking at the
tree he is under. ‘I do not wish to meet that old man unawares without an
argument ready to hand, that is all.’
Aragorn
can see no marks in the deep and drifting leaves, but he guesses that the
hobbits would follow the stream, and when they finally come across tracks where
they stopped and drank they finally know that both hobbits are alive – or at
least were two days ago. But they left the stream at this point and will be
hard to track in the fastness of Fangorn. The three hunters are ill-supplied,
and even if they find the hobbits it might be only to sit down and starve together
with them. If that’s all they can do, says Aragorn, that is what they will do.
They make their way until they reach Treebeard’s Hill with its odd steps. The forest seems a little lighter and fresher there, so they climb it to look around. Here Aragorn sees Merry and Pippin’s footprints again, but they are accompanied by some very strange marks indeed. Suddenly Legolas spots a figure, coming up the hill from the way they came. It is the figure of an old man, dressed in grey rags, head bowed, leaning on a rough-cut staff. They are quiet as he approaches. He seems to conceal some hidden power.
Gimli
can’t take the suspense. He tells Legolas to bend his bow and shoot before
Saruman can cast a spell on them! Legolas is reluctant, and Aragorn says they
cannot harm an old man like that, without challenging him and finding out who
he is.
The
old man comes with surprising speed to the foot of the shelf where they stand
above him. He is wearing not only a hood but a hat also; only his beard and the
tip of his nose can be seen, but Aragorn catches a gleam of keen eyes in the
hidden face as he looks up. ‘Well met indeed, my friends,’ comes his soft
voice. He begins to climb up towards them.
Gimli
tells Legolas to shoot, but at the command of the grey figure the elf drops his
bow, and Gimli himself seems to be unable to move. The old man climbs up to
them; there is the quick hint of gleaming white from under his rags. Gimli
draws a hissing breath. Surely it is Saruman!
The
old man reaches the top of the shelf and stands peering at them from under his
hood. He asks ‘And what may you be doing in these parts? An Elf, a Man, and a
Dwarf, all clad in Elvish fashion. No doubt there is a tale worth hearing
behind it all.’
In
return Aragorn questions him. The old man seems to know the forest well. What
is he doing there? And what is his name, and what does he want of them?
As
for that, what are they doing there? He asked them first. And as for his
name, he thinks they’ve heard it before. He laughs long and softly; Aragorn
feels a strange cold thrill, but not of fear, but rather like the ‘sudden bite
of keen air’.
When
the three companions still don’t answer him, the old man says he will tell them
a little of their tale to get them started. They came hunting two hobbits –
yes, hobbits; don’t look so blank – but they met someone they did not expect
and were taken elsewhere. Their errand is not so urgent now, is it? They should
sit and talk a little more.
As
he turns his gaze away, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas shake themselves as if
coming out of a trance. The three prepare their weapons. The old man stoops to
sit on a stone and as his grey cloak draws apart they finally see without a
shadow of a doubt his white clothes underneath.
‘Saruman!’ cried Gimli, springing towards him with axe in hand. ‘Speak! Tell us where you have hidden our friends! What have you done with them? Speak, or I will make a dint in your hat that even a wizard will find it hard to deal with!’
But
the old man is too quick for him. He leaps up to the top of a tall rock,
towering over them. His hood and grey rags are flung away, and his clothes
shine. He raises his staff and Gimli’s axe leaps from his hand. Aragorn’s sword
blazes with sudden fire, and Legolas shoots an arrow high into the air that
vanishes with a flash of flame. ‘Mithrandir!’ the Elf cries. ‘Mithrandir!’
‘Well
met, I say to you again, Legolas!’ It is indeed Gandalf, but Gandalf
transfigured. His hair gleams white as snow and his garments are dazzling
white. His eyes are piercingly bright and ‘power was in his right hand.’ For a
while the three companions can say nothing, between wonder, joy, and fear.
Aragorn
at last speaks the wizard’s name, Gandalf, and marvels at what a veil must have
been over his eyes to not recognize him before. Gimli sinks to his knees. ‘Gandalf,’
the old wizard muses, as at a long-forgotten word. ‘Yes, that was the name. I
was Gandalf.’ They can still call him Gandalf. He puts on his grey cloak again,
and bids Gimli arise. No harm done. Indeed, none of them have any weapon that
can hurt him now. ‘Be merry! We meet again. At the turn of the tide.’
He
puts his hand on Gimli’s head, and the Dwarf suddenly looks up laughing.
Gandalf! But he’s all in white now!
‘Yes,
I am white now,’ said Gandalf. ‘Indeed I am Saruman, one might almost
say, Saruman as he should have been. But come now, tell me of yourselves! I
have passed through fire and deep water, since we parted. I have forgotten much
that I thought I knew, and learned again much that I had forgotten. I can see
many things far off, but many things that are close at hand I cannot see. Tell
me of yourselves!’
Bits
and Bobs
Gandalf’s
back, and evil’s gonna be in trouble. In a note recorded in “The History of Middle-earth”
(The Treason of Isengard, page 422) Tolkien states that Gandalf has passed
through the fire – and became the White Wizard. ‘He has thus acquired
something of the awe and terrible power of the Ring-wraiths, only on the good
side. Evil things fly from him if he is revealed – when he shines. But he does
not as a rule reveal himself.’ Thus, he continues the mandate of the Wizards,
not to overawe or rule the free peoples of Middle-earth, but to help them when
they are faced by enemies beyond their power.
The returned Gandalf the White has many traits reminiscent of the Glorified Jesus, both pre- and post-Resurrection. For instance, at the Transfiguration, Jesus has three of his followers with him up on a high place and:
“There
he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes
became as white as the light. (Matthew 17:2)”
“His
clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could
bleach them. (Mark 9:3)”
“As
he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as
bright as a flash of lightning. (Luke 9:29)”
And
after the Resurrection: “Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but
they were kept from recognizing him. […] Then their eyes were opened and they
recognized him […] They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning
within us while he talked with us on the road?” (Luke 24) Likewise, the companions
feel inexplicable excitement as they listen the unknown figure’s words, and
Aragorn wonders what veil had been over his eyes.
In Revelation 1 the Ascended Christ is described as “clothed with a long robe …the hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire …” The newly returned Gandalf’s hair is ‘white as snow in the sunshine and gleaming white was his robe; the eyes under his deep brows were bright, piercing as the rays of the sun … power was in his hand.”
It
is curious to note that Gandalf here wears a hat and a hood. He carries
a ‘rough-cut staff’, not the elegantly carved item in the Jackson movies. Can
any old stick serve as a staff? He is dressed in gleaming white clothes (later
revealed to have been given him in Lothlorien) but covered with dirty grey
rags, which one can only assume were left over from his old Grey days.
In a
way, it is perhaps only logical that they don’t recognize Gandalf at first.
They have every reason to believe he is dead and gone and are not
psychologically prepared for his return. On the other hand, they are fearing an
encounter with Saruman (this is close to his territory, and they saw that
apparition the night before). Gandalf ‘absolves’ Gimli of his hasty mistake,
and Gimli arises with a light heart.
“My
story is a long one indeed and I am not the same Goodgulf Grayteeth that you
once knew. I have undergone many changes, no thanks to you I might add.”
“Yah,
a little Clairol on the temples and a trim,” whispered the observant dwarf
[Gimlet, son of Groin].
“I
heard that!”
- Bored of the Rings, The Harvard Lampoon
