A quick comment

So, I’m sure by now all of you have heard the news about the fate of The Hobbit;  they’ve finally come to an agreement and we’ll have two movies in a couple of years.  Now does the fact that they are making two movies bother anyone else?  I know for myself, and many I’ve talked to, this is a major matter for concern.  According to the “rumor mills,” the second film will deal with the time between the end of The Hobbit and the beginning of The Lord of the Rings.  Granted, Tolkien wrote quite a bit of back story for this time, with many time lines and shorter tales, but can this constitute an entire film?  I don’t know.  I fear the film makers may use the lack of a concrete story to take control and make up their own story.  And, if you want a doom and gloom tale, if it succeeds as such it would lead to a whole trail of “LotR inspired” movies; because we all know how much Hollywood will do to make money…

I still am waffling over whether having Peter Jackson at the helm is a good thing or not.  Yes, his films were beautifully done.  Yes, they were entertaining.  Yes, they portrayed the basic plot of the books.  BUT…as you probably know by now, hopefully having read my previous posts, Peter Jackson and co. mangled much of Tolkien’s masterpiece to the point where it is no longer recognizable.  I think it is good at least that the vision of Middle Earth and the rigor with which they brought it to life will be continued in the new films.  But I cannot help but be wary of what they may produce; especially given the nature of The Hobbit.  It is a light-hearted book.  It does not have the gravitas and epic weight of LotR.  For this reason, I fear any movie maker will take much more dramatic license with it.  We shall see. 

Of Barrow Wights and Old Man Willow

No other event or character is noticeably absent from The Fellowship of the Ring film than the Barrow Wight and Old Man Willow, with the obvious exception of Tom Bombadil.  Why were they left out?  Or, more importantly, why are they in Middle Earth to begin with?

To start, why were they dropped?  Recall, Tom Bombadil, Old Man Willow and the wight are all transplanted into Middle Earth from a poem Tolkein wrote years before LotR.  In many ways this insertion is glaringly evident.  The entire scenario slows down the plot.  It’s absurd and out of place.  So why did Tolkien include it?

The inclusion of these scenes demonstrates Tolkien’s genius.  Yes, they are odd.  Yes, they don’t quite fit.  But I believe they are  intentionally so.  Their seeming awkwardness makes them stand out.  It gets the reader’s attention; makes him or her want to puzzle out their existence. 

So, what is their reason for being? 

It’s quite simple if we return to Tolkien’s arguments about Tom Bombadil:

“‘The power of the Ring over all concerned, even the Wizards or Emissaries, is not delusion-but it is not the whole picture, even of the then state and content of the Universe.’” (Tolkien, Letter 153, p 192)

It is with Tom, Old Man Willow and the Barrow Wight that Tolkien attempts to show us the whole picture.  All evil is not invested in the Ring.  It is not even beholden to Sauron.  Evil exists.  Certainly Sauron is the greatest evil of the time, but he is not the only evil.  Just because he is the “supreme” evil of the time does not infer that all evil is connected back to him.

There is more to the picture.

Recall Tolkien’s attempts to write the sequel “The New Shadow.”  Here we see again the whole picture.  The destruction of the Ring may destroy Sauron, may kill a branch of evil, but not the tree.  The tree, to use Tolkien’s metaphor, never dies. 

The Old Forest, and the Barrow Downs require the reader to really explore the nature of evil and goodness.  It is not cut and dry.  It has no easy answer.  And so, “‘Not even at the Feast of Felling should the axe be hung up on the wall!’” (Peoples of Middle Earth, Tolkien 411)

Try Me: Haldir

Haldir only appears in the second book (TT).  He is one of the elves set to guard the northern bounds of Lothlorien.  He guides the Fellowship to Caras Galadhon and, from what I can tell, that is the extent of his role in the book. 

I see two reasons for Peter Jackson to kill off Haldir, one is purely pragmatic, the other symbolic.  Let’s start with the pragmatic reason.  The elves never go to Helm’s Deep in the book.  In the film, notice that apparently no elves survive.  From the point of Haldir’s death, or the retreat to the Hornburg, we never see another elf besides Legolas.  So the reason for Haldir’s death is simple: to avoid all the problems that come with changing the plot.  How would Jackson have been able to explain away an army of elves?  He couldn’t, because they don’t work, they are totally alien to the plot of the book.  So he kills them off.

Ok, well that theory seems a bit cold hearted and depressing!  So let’s look at the possible symbolism of Haldir’s and the elves’ deaths.  What better way is there to show resolve and loyalty than to sacrifice oneself for another?  The elve’s sacrifice demonstrates their resolve to fight evil.  It also reinforces their ”allegience” with men.  Also, it increases the tension and gravity of the scene.  The elves are stronger, faster, better armored, better armed and better trained than men.  They are an army.  If they cannot survive the onslaught of the Uruk-hai, how can the men of Rohan expect to?

Ok, so those are my reasons why Haldir and the elves would die.  Now let me explain why the elves coming to Helm’s Deep in the first place is a horrendous idea.  The Last Alliance is called “last” for a reason!  Also, recall that Lothlorien is attacked three times during the War of the Ring.  Lothlorien would have fallen if troops left to help Rohan.  Remember, the elves are dwindling, both in numbers and power.  It is hard to believe they’d send troops to aid men when they themselves are greatly threatened. 

In their despair and fear of deminishing, the elves begin to pull themselves farther and farther out of the “living world” of Middle Earth, breaking all contacts. It may be, in seeing humans and other races, they see just how far they have fallen. It is very powerful, seeing a race so high and mighty impotent (for the most part)…other than to protect their own realms. It also highlights the strain of interrelationship between races.

ALSO, and this is my biggest point, the elves coming to Helm’s Deep decreases the valour and courage of MEN. The end of the Third age acts as the transition point between the time of Elves/Dwarves, and the time of Men. At Helm’s Deep, we feel the true desperation of being alone in a field of enemies, pitted against foes beyond our strength. And yet, the Rohirrim harden their hearts against fear, to fight on. It is crucial that the defenders be MEN, not Elves. Elves are associated with the mythical, divine, supernatural. It lessens the tension and fear, because their prowess seems so great. In the book, the presence of the Heroic is easier seen: Theoden’s ride, Aragorn, Eomer, Gimli, Legolas…they all stand above the rest. In the film, they are set within an army of elves…much their equals (or betters, if they retain the skills seen in the Last Alliance). To me, it just doesn’t work at all. It ruins the tone and fear of the moment. It ruins the final eucatastrophe of the coming of Erkenbrand and Gandalf.

Try me

Ok.

Here’s your chance.  Is there something about Lord of the Ring’s or any of Tolkien’s works that you’ve wondered about?  Are there ideas and concepts of particular meaning to you that you’d like me to write about?  Or are there differences between the books and the movies that particularly irk you?  Here’s your opportunity. 

My current list of projected posts ideas has a healthy number of ideas, but I thought it would be interesting to see if there is anything in particular any of you readers would like me to touch upon.  If you have an idea, just post it as a comment to this post.  If I like your idea I’ll get to work, and do some research and we’ll see what I come up with!

Happy Despair

One of my favorite scenes from the book has always been the coming of the Captains of the Outlands to the aid of Minas Tirith.  It is a moment of expectation and excitement.  It is a moment of joy and happiness in the dark of impending doom, countered by the desperate realization that too few have come.  Danger presses on all sides, cutting off help; diminishing Gondor’s full strength by preventing a united front.  Yet, even in disappointment, “‘every little is a gain’” (Tolkien 753).  Here at the Gate, is a scene of hope countered cruelly by despair. 

This scene strikes a chord.  It evokes vibrant sensations of the tramping of feet, proud trumpets, proud knights and barely shrouded fear.  Here at the Gate, more than any other moment in the siege of Gondor, is the desperation of the War more keenly felt.  The Captains come, risking what few men they can, in fear their homes are being destroyed behind them.  Yet they still come, proud and brave.  They remain loyal. 

Among so many exemplars of courage, this one is my favorite.  The tension has been building, building so great it’s hard to bear.  The coming of the Captains seems a final breath, a relief from the darkness.  But it is a thin and wavering light.  In intense expectation we watch the Captains come with the watchers at the Gate, frantically counting their numbers with them….and finding them achingly small.  It is a moment of happy despair. 

I would have loved to see this depicted in the film.  It is a scene of such power and poignancy, which never fails to give me chills. 

PS.  I am going to be away for about a week, on vacation…so no posts for a while.  I hope to get some work done on “Frodo, Gollum and the Ring,” dealing with the nature of Gollum’s taming, oath and whether Frodo ‘failed’.  This post has been on my mind for a long time, and will require research and quotes…so I thank any readers for your patience.

Guardians, and the purpose of Tom Bombadil

I understand why Tom Bombadil and the Barrowdowns were cut from the films.  To most, they appear to be an add-on, useless and pointless.  However, this could not be farther from the truth.  They have a purpose, if somewhat obscure.

In the beginning, the hobbits are neither prepared nor mature enough to face the cruelties and evils of Middle Earth.  Therefore, for much of the book, they rely on Guardians.  First, when confronted with the Black Riders, they find the elves.  Then Farmer Maggot.  These are relatively weak and passing examples, but equal to the level of peril.  

After leaving the Shire, the hobbits are alone in the Old Forest, which leads them to the Withywindle and Old man Willow.  It is a danger none of them understand or grasp fully, with no clear solution or salvation.  Thus, enters Tom Bombadil.  Even after the knowledge of Bombadil is imparted and they’ve had their first tastes of danger, the hobbits are still caught by the Barrow-wight.  Tom comes to save them again. 

It is important to note, upon the parting of Tom and the Hobbits, their reluctance to be parted.  They long for the safety, the security he offers.  It was the same in the Shire.  It is what they have always been used to: an easy life, with little fear.  But now fear has found them and they do not know what to do.

Tom Bombadil is replaced by a long line of Guardians and caretakers: Aragorn, Glorfindel, Gandalf and the others of the Fellowship.  Each watches out for the hobbits.  Yet, in the end, the hobbits are separated momentarily from a guardian.  Merry and Pippin are captured by the Uruk-hai.  They manage quite well, finding and using courage they did not know they had.  Frodo and Sam also no longer have a guardian and manage to navigate the Emyn Muil.  However, again, they find guardians.  Merry and Pippin meet Treebeard.  Sam and Frodo meet Gollum.  What is key to notice here, is the stature of these guardians.  They grant more freedom and responsibility to the hobbits, especially in the case of Gollum. 

Even so, the most important point to make is that the hobbits only have “guardians” until the moment(s) that really matter!  Sam and Frodo are left alone in Shelob’s lair.  Sam is left alone after Frodo is taken by the orcs of the tower.  Pippin is alone against the madness of Denethor’s madness.  Merry is alone to strike the Witchking.  It is during these moments when the reader finally sees the true mettle and indomitable strength and courage of each hobbit. 

The parting of Gandalf and the hobbits is the most important moment in the growth of Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo.  Here, finally, they are forced to see the change in themselves; to stop relying on others and take up their burdens on their own, knowing they are now capable. 

“’I am with you at present,’ said Gandalf, ‘but soon I shall not be.  I am not coming to the Shire.  You must settle its affairs yourselves; that is what you have been trained for.  Do you not yet understand?  My time is over: it is no longer my task to set things to rights, nor to help folk do so.  And as for you, my dear friends, you will need no help.  You are grown up now.  Grown indeed very high; among the great you are, and I have no longer any fear at all for any of you.’” (974 Tolkien)

So Bombadil has a purpose, a very important one!  He, and the other guardians, is there to guide and teach the hobbits.  They could be seen as instructors, easing the hobbits towards self-reliance.  The guardians are crucial to the plot.  In part, Lord of the Rings is not just a story of good versus evil, epic battles, or virtue, but a story about growth.

The Folly of Saruman, Afterthought

I just thought of something new, regarding Saruman of many Colors.  He is a traitor or ‘turncoat.’  He also does ‘turn-coats.’  What is interesting in this concept is its deep symbolism.  Not only are all colors weaker than white, and not only does Saruman change “coats,” but his “coat” also changes color continuosly.  It is comparable to his constant change in loyalties.  He feigns loyalty, for a time, to the White Council and the side of good.  He later feigns loyalty to Sauron.  But in truth he is only true to his own pride and desires.  Throughout his role in Middle Earth, he is continuously shown as playing both sides, skirting the edges, hedging his bets.  In some ways, having many colors, does the same.  It shows a deepset insecurity in his stature.  Not only does he have to dominate every color (ie Maiar/istari), he has to be every color.  He resents others gifts and talents.  This can be seen, to a small degree, in his taking up smoking and taking an interest in the Shire, like Gandalf.

Like Gollum, and even the Orcs, Saruman is to be pitied.  He has nothing, except, perhaps, his “coat.”  Otherwise, he is only a shrivelled up corpse inside, as is shown at his death.  Yet even then, some part of him remains, regretting his choices and yearning to the West he’s denied.

The Triumph of Applicability

” ‘I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations…I much prefer hisoty, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers.  I think that many confuse ‘applicability’ with ‘allegory’; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author.’ ” JRR Tolkien (xvii Forward to the Second Edition LR)

Tolkien’s assertion at the very beginning of the Lord of the Rings is of key importance.  Here, the reader finds the reason for the work’s continuing endurance and vigor; much to the chagrin of much of the “literary intelligencia” and Tolkien’s early critics.  The reason for this is that Lord of the Rings is most definitely not allegorical, in any sense.  It is inevitable, of course, that the author’s life and views would assert themselves within the work.  However, these views are niether overt or mandatory. 

The triumph of Tolkien’s work lies in its masterful use of applicability.  Applicability gives the power to the reader.  Tolkien is our guide into the world of Middle Earth, but the reader brings his or her being to bear, adding meaning and emotional weight to the story.  The reader is in charge of finding meaning, from his or her experience.  Lord of the Rings succeeds so effortlessly in this way due to its human core.  The book explores concepts such as love, honor, mercy, temptation, war, suffering and sacrifice to name a few.  Each of these has the ability to touch the reader, to tap deeper emotions and find hidden thoughts. 

For each person, the meaning changes.  For each person, new points of import are found.  For each person, the story changes.   This is why the book has thrived.  It has something for everyone.  It is timeless.  It holds insight and knowledge applicable to our time as much as Tolkien’s or people from far before his time. 

Applicabilty is what makes continued study and rereading of Tolkien’s works possible.  As the reader moves through life, his or her emotions, experience, maturity and memories change.  As they change, so does the book.  Each reading is a new experience. 

Ultimately, this is where the movies fall short.  They banish the magic, confuse the clear vision, and erase meaning. 

The Strength of Faramir

As most people will and have said, the worst sin of The Lord of the Rings films is Faramir, aka Boromir’s clone.  In The Two Towers film, Faramir is essentially a clone of Borromir.  In the Ring, all he sees is the power to protect his people; a weapon with which to fight Sauron.  He is harsh, almost bordering on cruel.  He is also quite hasty and unwise.  The majesty and honor his of Numenorian blood is lost.  Like Borromir, he is drawn to the Ring, wishing to take it for his own.  He shows no wisdom, no understanding of its evil, no understanding of tact or care.  He is utterly callous.

This “Faramir” is unrecognizable. 

The true Faramir is honorable, and just.  He is wise.  He understands the need for caution.  He has some knowledge of “Isildur’s Bane” and its dangers.  He tells Frodo, before even knowing what he has, that he would never take the Ring from him.  And when he finds out what great power, and corruption, is within his grasp he keeps his word.  He helps Frodo.  He lets him go.  He shows mercy.  None of these qualities is shown in the film’s pseudo-Faramir.  That Faramir is a travesty to behold.

A quick word about LotR films and me

Now from that title, you’re probably thinking that’s impossible…but I’ll give it a try.

I have a confession to make.  *whispers* No matter what I may say here, I actually do enjoy the films.  Sure it’s a more superficial, light entertainment.  So…watching the films is both a joy and pain for me.  On one hand they are beautifully filmed, with wonderous soundtracks and typical “rip-roaring” Hollywood fun.  On the other it is horrifyingly one dimensional, simplistic and contrived.  There are parts of the movies I absolutely love for their interpretation of the book…and yet others I love just for their cinematic beauty.  And then there are other parts…mind you large ones!…that cause me to cringe and shout angrilly at my TV.  Obviously, as a direct outcome, no-one will watch the movies with me…lol. 

I have finished my reread of the book.  Now I’m just trying to work up the courage to watch the films again so I can see just how far they diverge.