The Tale
‘Now
all roads were running together to the East to meet the coming of war and the
onset of the Shadow. And even as Pippin stood at the Great Gate of the City and
saw the Prince of Dol Amroth ride in with his banners, the King of Rohan came
down out of the hills.’
The day is going down as they break out of the mountains
into hills and the sighing fir-woods below. They follow the falling water to
the bottom of the gorge and find the land of Harrowdale before them. The river
Snowbourne flows down towards Edoras; to the right is the mountain Starkhorn,
blue in the East but stained red in the West by the sunset.
Merry
gazes in wonder at this strange land. To him it seems skyless, with steep
tree-clad hills on either side. He always had liked the idea of mountains, at
least marching along the borders of old tales, ‘but now he was borne down by
the insupportable weight of Middle-earth.’ He wants to shut the immensity out
with a cozy little room with a fire.
Merry
is very tired; they have ridden for three days, slowly but with little rest. Sometimes,
when the road allowed, he had ridden at Theoden’s side, telling him tales about
the Shire, with the King telling him in turn tales of the Mark and its ‘mighty
men of old’ in exchange. But most of the time he has ridden behind Theoden in
silence, listening to the ‘slow sonorous speech’ of the Riders behind him,
trying to understand it. It seems to have many familiar words, spoken in
strange accents, but he cannot piece together the meaning. ‘At times some Rider
would lift up his clear voice in a stirring song, and Merry felt his heart
leap, though he did not know what it was about.’
But
here at the day’s end he feels lonelier than ever, and wonders what Pippin is
doing, or Aragorn and Gimli and Legolas. Then with a guilty start he remembers
Frodo and Sam as well. He started on this adventure to help Frodo! They are
more important than any of the rest, and they must be hundreds of miles away on
their journey, if they are even still alive. He shivers.
Notes
Only
a couple of pages of this chapter, but I think I must start slowly to position
myself again and begin cranking the machinery up after my vacation, as it were.
We are given a smooth transition from Pippin (who has had the last two
chapters) in the soon to be besieged City to Merry, who is riding with an army
to war.
Also
in contrast Merry certainly seems closer to his ‘liege-lord’ than Pippin is to
Denethor; Pippin’s dialogue with the Steward of Gondor has been to extract
information, while Merry and Theoden have been exchanging tales. Tolkien says
that some Riders are amused at the little figure of the Hobbit on his stubby
grey pony talking familiarly with the King on his great white horse.
It
is his contact with the Rohirrim that sparks a scholarly curiosity in Merry.
Elsewhere Tolkien states that the Hobbits’ speech bears the same relation to
Rohirric as our Modern English does to Anglo-Saxon; the ‘real’ languages are
transposed to those of our world. Tolkien clearly means that our reaction to
Anglo-Saxon should be like Merry’s: a recognition of ancient kinship, a dim but
stirring echo of the past. Perhaps he is even describing his own feelings on
being introduced to Anglo-Saxon. Merry’s interest and familiarity with the
language of Rohan leads him to writing (among other books) Old Words and
Names in the Shire, described as a ‘short treatise’, showing the
relationship between the two.
Merry’s
remembrance of Frodo not only shows his concern with his cousin and his quest,
but jogs our memory too, and places all the pieces on the board in relationship
to each other. Little touches like this keep us in mind of Frodo and Sam and
the greater mission amid the hurly-burly of war.
No comments:
Post a Comment