The deception of Saruman

Just came out of a part of the story that was completely left out of the movie…Gandalf’s final confrontation with Saruman, who is locked in the tower of Orthanc at Isengard. He warns his companions to beware of Saruman’s voice, which casts a spell over many who listen to it, and the Riders of Rohan do actually perceive it as sweet and musical when Saruman starts speaking. He does not try too hard to reason with Gandalf, probably because he figures the battle is already lost, but he does attempt to coerce Theoden into making peace with him. The Riders standing at the foot of the tower almost hope their king will concede, and finally when Theoden says “We will have peace,” it seems right to them.

However, Theoden does not stop there. He says that Rohan will have peace with Isengard when it is utterly destroyed; when Saruman no longer lurks in the tower seeking to destroy all that which is good and pure; when he has met his demise and the land is clean again, then the Rohirrim will live at peace with Isengard. (Reading this makes me want to cheer!) This passage is a powerful commentary on the seductive guises that evil wears. The voice of the Enemy often seems sweeter than the voice of good; it twists good things to its purposes and makes right and wrong seem relative. Truth, at least in this world, often comes clad in weather-stained garments and simple words, not golden-tongued rhetoric. It requires a discerning eye to see past the surface and determine what is truly good and right.

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For such a time as this

As mentioned a few weeks ago, Tolkien’s love for songs and poetry runs throughout his stories. Here is a song sung by Aragorn as he approaches Edoras with Legolas, Gandalf and Gimli:

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?

Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?

Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?

Where is the spring and the harvest, and the tall corn growing?

They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;

The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.

Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,

Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

Some sad, ethereal power sings its way through these lines…I can’t explain why they touch me, but they do. Tolkien has a gift for making the reader look far back into history, even a history we don’t know, and calling us to remember its glory. The songs in the books always idealize the past, and speak of the present as rather a dark time. Even so, the “present” (i.e. the Third Age of Middle-earth, the time of the Fellowship’s quest) is also a time when great deeds are done. The past acts as a perfect prelude to the present, setting up a grand plan that will be fulfilled in this time. For example, Aragorn’s heritage as a descendant of Numenor makes him the perfect one to defeat the Dark Armies and claim the throne of Gondor. The long enmity between the Dwarves and Elves, and the urgency of the present time, makes the friendship of Legolas and Gimli particularly poignant. Gandalf’s long history in Middle-earth has given him invaluable knowledge of the creatures, the land and the races of people, which he must use in this, his last and greatest task. Like Esther in the palace of Susa, all the members of the Fellowship and even their dark counterparts have been prepared “for such a time as this.”

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Riding with the Rohirrim

I have just finished a long tramp through one of my favorite sections of Middle-earth…from Fangorn to Entmoot (the gathering of the Ents) to Edoras in Rohan, to Helm’s Deep. I love the people of Rohan more every time I read about them. I think perhaps they are the group of characters in the books who are most like me. I love the Elves and I would love to be one, but they are almost angelic figures: ancient and yet young, ethereally pure and wise. The Rohirrim and their women (particularly Eowyn) draw me more strongly, because they are human; I see in them the faces of people I know. They are fierce warriors who fight with honor, but they place the greatest value on their families and homes. They would frankly rather be left in peace to raise their horses than fight.

Rohan’s part in the story begins with the disenchanting of Theoden, King of Rohan, and continues through the rally of the Riders and the battle of Helm’s Deep. A call to nobility and honor is the golden thread that runs through Rohan’s chapters. It would have been easy for Theoden to send Gandalf away, or for the banished Rohirrim, captained by Eomer, to turn bitter against their king. The warriors could have hidden in the caves with their women and children, but instead they rally and keep on fighting even when it seems hopeless. The ride of the Rohirrim down the cliff at Helm’s Deep (in the book it is actually the foot-soldiers of Westfold under Erkenbrand) sends chills down my spine. They may ride to death, but they ride rather than flee. King Theoden, too, refuses to end the battle “taken like an old badger in a trap,” but instead calls Aragorn to ride with him, so that if they meet their end, they can make it “such an end as will be worth a song.”

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Colors of Middle-earth

A word about the color scheme in Tolkien’s books…I just finished a page in which Legolas talks about the golden trees, the mallorn (plural mellyrn) in Lothlorien. “In the autumn their leaves fall not, but turn to gold. Not till the spring comes and the new green opens do they fall, and then the boughs are laden with yellow flowers; and the floor of the wood is golden, and golden is the roof, and its pillars are of silver, for the bark of the trees is smooth and grey.” This is one example of the use of earth tones, so prevalent in Tolkien’s work…I suppose it makes a greater impact because I’ve seen the movies and have visual images of the colors used by the filmmakers. Even from the books alone, though, the reader gets a sense of a world in greens, browns, blues and greys. There are splendid, rich reds and golds in the halls of kings, but even they are never harshly bright; they too seem tied to the earth.

With our bright, plastic, pop-culture sensibility, one would think we would find a green-and-grey world shadowy, but I love taking a dip into the freshness of Tolkien’s colours, a break from the bubble-gum brightness of store windows. The races of Middle-earth are tied to the land, and the colours of their clothes, armor and dwellings show their affinity for it. Have we moved too far away from that mindset with our store-bought dyes? Would we feel more at home with the earth if we let its colours permeate our lives?

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Oxford update

I haven’t said much about Oxford or our experiences, so I’ll give a quick update at this point. We have now been in Oxford for nearly three weeks; we spent this past weekend in London and will head to Yorkshire (north of us) as a group tomorrow. Our three ACU professors, the Morgans and Dr. Roper, are teaching most of our classes and some of us are supplementing that with guided study work. We’ve all found various things to get involved in, such as volunteering at a local elementary school, singing with the Oxford University Gilbert & Sullivan Society, or cooking for a Bible study run by St. Aldate’s, a local Anglican church.

The architecture in this city is amazing…I’ve climbed an Anglo-Saxon church tower, snapped pictures of adorable brick row houses, attended service at a Gothic cathedral-like Anglican church, and gazed out over velvet green meadows (green even though it’s winter). This is the England Tolkien knew and loved; the Eagle and Child pub, where he and C.S. Lewis and their fellow Inklings met, is literally a ten-minute walk down the street from us. A weekly open market in the downtown square, evensong at Christ Church, rain and sunshine on any given day…this is where he lived, where he wrote and where he drew his inspiration for Middle-earth.

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Fear of the unknown

The Company is nearing the woods of Lothlorien after Gandalf’s fall in Moria, and here we come to another instance of racism in Middle-earth. Boromir has heard of Lorien that “few come out who once go in, and of that few none have escaped unscathed.” Aragorn corrects him, saying that actually none who enter come out unchanged, but Boromir remains unconvinced. Gimli also is wary; in the beginnings of time Elves and Dwarves were friends, but by the Third Age of Middle-earth, enmity has ruled between them for years.

As we (the readers) know, Lothlorien, like Rivendell, is one of the last great strongholds of light and wisdom in the West. Yet those who are not Elves are often anxious about coming to these places, even to receive rest and a blessing. Why is this? Is it simply a natural fear of the unknown, or has Sauron used his dark devices to plant doubt in the minds of people who were once friends?

To what extent does this happen in our own lives? We fear the unfamiliar, though it holds potential for great blessing, and we hesitate to open ourselves up to new people or situations because of this fear. How much of it is natural, and how much is the work of the Enemy to divide people who could be great influences for good? Something to think about…

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Middle-Earth geography

Elrond has sent the company out from Rivendell, and they have made it to the slopes of Caradhras, only to be defeated and turn back across the land of Hollin, to the doors of Moria. These books are so geographical that I find myself constantly flipping back to the maps in the front…sort of like Joshua and the Chronicles of the Old Testament. Since I now have my Tolkien dictionary, I sometimes flip through and translate names of rivers or lands, or Elvish phrases.

Throughout the books, Tolkien writes of Middle-earth familiarly, as I would write of West Texas – as though it were a land he knew intimately and loved. Peter Beagle, who wrote the Introduction to my edition (the 1978 Ballantine Books printing) of the trilogy, points out that “in the end it is Middle-earth and its dwellers that we love, not Tolkien’s considerable gifts in showing it to us. I said once that the world he charts was there long before him, and I still believe it. He is a great enough magician to tap our most common nightmares, daydreams and twilight fancies, but he never invented them either: he found them a place to live.” Some fantasy books are written abstractly, distantly, and the reader never forgets that they are reading a story, something that could never really happen. Tolkien’s warm treatment of the hills and fields of Middle-earth pull the reader in, making us believe that we could really journey there.

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