Capital R, Ring

11 Wednesday Nov 2026

Tags

Andrew Lang, Bilbo, fairy tales, fairy-tales, Fantasy, George Dasent, Gollum, lotr, Saruman, Sauron, The Lord of the Rings, The Ring, Tolkien

Welcome, as ever, dear readers.

Having grown up reading or being read to from fairy tale books like that by George Dasent (Popular Tales from the Norse, 1859—and here’s a copy for you: https://archive.org/details/populartalesfr00asbj/page/n3/mode/2up   )

and Andrew Lang’s Fairy Books,

(You can start with the first here: https://dn760108.eu.archive.org/0/items/bluefairybook00langiala/bluefairybook00langiala.pdf )

it’s not surprising that Tolkien’s first adventure book, The Hobbit,

should, in many ways, resemble such books.

One of the features of fairy tales is the use of magic, including magic objects, like rings,

(You can read more about such rings here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_ring )

and, of course, such a ring appears in The Hobbit, the magic being that it allows a person wearing it to become invisible, which then allows the hero, Bilbo, to escape from goblins,

(Alan Lee)

fight giant spiders,

(Oleksiy Lipatov—you can see more of his work here: https://www.artstation.com/oleksiylipatov8 )

and even chat with a fearsome dragon.

(JRRT)

Where it came from and what other powers it might have are not explained, only that Bilbo picked it up on the floor of a goblin tunnel and that it was clearly the property—the “precious” –of the creepy Gollum, from whom Bilbo escaped after a riddling contest, using that same ring.

(Alan Lee)

But then the book was so successful that the publisher asked for a sequel and, as Tolkien wrote to W. H. Auden:

“But if you wanted to go on from the end of The Hobbit I think that the ring would be your inevitable choice as the link. If then you wanted a large tale, the Ring would at once acquire a capital letter; and the Dark Lord would immediately appear.” (letter to W.H.Auden, 7 June, 1955, Letters, 315)

Thinking about the Ring recently, I wondered about both its original purpose, and the effect that it had upon other wearers or potential wearers. In an earlier letter, Tolkien had explained that original purpose:

“The Elves of Eregion made Three supremely beautiful and powerful rings…But secretly in the subterranean Fire, in his own Black Land, Sauron made One Ring, the Ruling Ring that contained the powers of all the others, and controlled them, so that its wearer could see the thoughts of all those that used the lesser rings, could govern all that they did, and in the end could utterly enslave them.” (letter to Milton Waldman, late 1951, Letters 212-213)

Along with that controlling force, the Ring—and, as JRRT writes, the other rings– had another potential:

“The chief power (of all the rings alike) was the prevention or slowing of decay (i.e. ‘change’ viewed as a regrettable thing), the preservation of what is desired or loved, or its resemblance—this is more or less an Elvish motive.”

And there is something more:

“But also they enhanced the natural powers of a possessor—thus approaching ‘magic’, a motive easily corruptible into evil, a lust for domination. And finally they had other powers, more directly derived from Sauron…such as rendering invisible the material body, and making things of the invisible world visible.” (letter to Milton Waldman, “probably late 1951”, Letters 212-213)

That invisibility appeared in The Hobbit, but that “prevention or slowing of decay” was something new and we see that first in Gollum, who had taken the Ring from its finder, his cousin, Deagol.

Isildur had lost the Ring in the Anduin—or, rather, the Ring had abandoned him–in SA 3436. Deagol had brought it to the surface in TA2463, Bilbo had found it in TA 2940, and Gollum is still alive at the time of The Lord of the Rings, in TA3018, making him over 550 years old.

This slowing of age is then a give-away to Gandalf about Bilbo and his Ring, as Bilbo, among long-lived Hobbits, seems even longer-lived (eventually going off to the Grey Havens at 131). As Gandalf said of Gollum:

“ ‘And I learned also that he had possessed it long. Many lives of his small kind. The power of the ring had lengthened his years far beyond their span; but that power only the Great Rings wield.’ “ (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

But here we see another effect of possessing the Ring: it may lengthen life, but Bilbo says of himself:

“ ‘I am old, Gandalf. I don’t look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart of hearts. Well-preserved indeed!…Why, I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can’t be right…” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 1, “A Long-Expected Party”)

We can wonder, then, if Bilbo had possessed the Ring for about 60 years and felt odd, what must Gollum have felt like at 550+? Gandalf gives us something of that:

“ ‘He is thin and tough still. But the thing was eating up his mind, of course, and the torment had become almost unbearable.’ “ (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 2, “The Shadow of the Past”)

What is this torment? I would guess that it’s a combination of things: first, that the Ring, as we know from Gandalf, always wants to return to its maker/master, even to falling off a wearer’s finger:

“ ‘The Ring was trying to get back to its master. It had slipped off Isildur’s hand and betrayed him; then when a chance came it caught poor Deagol, and he was murdered; and after that Gollum, and it had devoured him. It could make no further use of him: he was too small and mean; and as long as it stayed with him he would never leave his deep pool again. So now, when its master was awake once more and sending out his dark thought from Mirkwood, it abandoned Gollum.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 2, “The Shadow of the Past”)

Thus, the Ring could combine a pressure to release it with its terrible attraction and fear of losing it, which could drive even decent people to shocking behavior, as it had many years ago with Smeagol, and as Frodo feels, when, in Rivendell, Bilbo asks to see it:

“Slowly he drew it out. Bilbo put out his hand. But Frodo quickly drew back the Ring. To his distress and amazement he found that he was no longer looking at Bilbo; a shadow seemed to have fallen between them, and through it he found himself eyeing a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands. He felt a desire to strike him,” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 1, “Many Meetings”)

(from the Jackson film, although more fiendlike, I think, than Tolkien intended)

It may also be that, for someone unequipped to wear it, the power enclosed within the Ring would simply overwhelm that person, as Elrond says:

“ ‘We cannot use the Ruling Ring. That we now know too well. It belongs to Sauron and was made by him alone, and is altogether evil. Its strength, Boromir, is too great for anyone to wield at will, save only those who have already a great power of their own. But for them it holds an even deadlier peril. The very desire of it corrupts the heart. Consider Saruman. If any of the Wise should with this Ring overthrow the Lord of Mordor, using his own arts, he would then set himself up on Sauron’s throne, and yet another Dark Lord would appear.’ “ (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

If even someone as powerful as Saruman would be overwhelmed by that power—and perhaps by that pressure to return it to its rightful owner, as well—then it’s not surprising that Gollum, and Bilbo, would be worn down under it, as he tells Gandalf:

“ ‘I am sorry…But I felt so queer. And yet it would be a relief in a way not to be bothered with it any more. It has been so growing on my mind lately. Sometimes I have felt it was like an eye looking at me. And I am always wanting to put it on and disappear, don’t you know; or wondering if it is safe, and pulling it out to make sure. I tried locking it up, but I found that I couldn’t rest without it in my pocket…’ ” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 1, “A Long-Expected Party”)

Such power delays decay, can make a holder invisible, and corrupts, as Elrond has said, but there’s another side to this as well: such power can also weaken. Sauron:

“rules a growing empire from the great dark tower of Barad-dur in Mordor, near to the Mountain of Fire, wielding the One Ring.

But to achieve this he had been obliged to let a great part of his own inherent power (a frequent and very significant motive in myth and fairy-story) pass into the One Ring. While he wore it, his power on earth was actually enhanced. But even if he did not wear it, that power existed and was in ‘rapport’ with himself: he was not ‘diminished’. Unless some other seized it and became possessed of it. If that happened, the new possessor could (if sufficiently strong and heroic by nature) challenge Sauron, become master of all he had learned and done since the making of the One Ring, and so overthrow him and usurp his place. This was the essential weakness he had introduced into his situation in his effort (largely unsuccessful) to enslave the Elves, and in his desire to establish a control over the minds and wills of his servants. There was another weakness: if the One Ring was actually unmade, annihilated, then its power would be dissolved, Sauron’s own being would be diminished to vanishing point, and he would be reduced to a shadow, a mere memory of malicious will.” (Letter to Milton Waldman, “probably written late in 1951”, Letters, 214)

Even Sauron, in fact, deceived himself about the Ring:

“It was indissoluble in any fire, save the undying subterranean fire where it was made—and that was unapproachable, in Mordor. Also so great was the Ring’s power of lust, that anyone who used it became mastered by it; it was beyond the strength of any will (even his own) to injure it, cast it away, or neglect it. So he thought. It was in any case on his finger.” (Letter to Milton Waldman, “probably written late in 1951”, Letters, 214)

And then it wasn’t on his finger, passing through a number of hands until, on the last, it—and its wearer—were “unmade”—

(Marta Nael—visit her spectacular gallery here: https://martanael.com/projects )

and, with it, so was Sauron.

(Ted Nasmith)

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Stay well,

Avoid the temptation to try to dominate the world—even Napoleon ended up an aging exile on a tiny volcanic island—

And remember that, as always, there’s

MTCIDC

Cap-a-Pie (2)

04 Wednesday Nov 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

armor, easterners, Eowyn, Fantasy, Frodo, Haradrim, jacksons-lord-of-the-rings, lotr, Merry, Nazgul, Orcs, Sam, Sauron, Tolkien

Part 1 of this posting came about after I had seen this in a toy catalogue—

It’s clearly based on Jackson’s Sauron

as seen at the moment when Isildur cuts the Ring from Sauron’s hand, as Elrond tells the council:

“ ‘I beheld the last combat on the slopes of Orodruin, where Gil-galad died, and Elendil fell, and Narsil broke beneath him; but Sauron himself was overthrown, and Isildur cut the Ring from his hand with the hilt-shard of his father’s sword, and took it for his own.’ “ (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

There is no description of how Sauron was dressed or armed, so it was up to the film’s designers to create their own image of him and it’s clear that their idea was all about spikiness—perhaps also, by his helmet, suggesting kingly aspirations?—but it made me wonder what JRRT had in mind, if not for Sauron, for his minions–

no, not those—that is, for his various followers—as well as for his opponents, and, in the first part of this posting, I had a look at those opponents, using evidence from Tolkien’s letters and The Lord of the Rings as my basis.

Now, I want to see what those same sources might tell us about his view of Sauron—and Saruman’s—forces.

Beginning at the top, there are the Nazgul. When we first see them and hear about them, they are cloaked—

(J.G. Jones—you can read about him here)

but, on Weathertop, Frodo puts on the Ring and sees

“…upon their grey hairs were helms of silver; in their haggard hands swords of steel…The third was taller than the others: his hair was long and gleaming and on his helm was a crown…” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 11, “A Knife in the Dark”)

Because, wearing the Ring, Frodo can see

“In their white faces burned keen and merciless eyes…”

presumably, the Lord of the Nazgul—and perhaps the others—wore open-faced helmets, like this one—

(Denis Gordeev)

And we can learn a little more about this last, the Lord of the Nazgul, when Eowyn and Merry destroy him—

“A crown of steel he bore…Merry had stabbed him from behind, shearing through the black mantle, and passing up beneath the hauberk…” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 6, “The Battle of the Pelennor Fields”)

He doesn’t appear to be wearing his helmet here, but he is wearing a long chain mail garment, a hauberk

and perhaps we can assume that his fellow Nazgul wore the same? He’s clearly not wearing armor on his legs, which is how Merry can attack the back of his knee

(Ted Nasmith)

and, with no helmet, Eowyn

“…drove her sword between crown and mantle, as the great shoulders bowed before her.”

As for the Orcs, the film designers have them in what look like a combination of medieval and Renaissance and maybe Samurai odds and ends—

so, what does JRRT have to say about them?

They carry swords and have some armor—as are described when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are preparing to send Boromir off—

“Quickly they searched the bodies of the Orcs, gathering their swords and cloven helmets and shields into a heap.”

Aragorn, however, is quick to recognize that all of the Orcs are not the same—

“There were four goblin-soldiers of greater stature, swart, slant-eyed, with thick legs and large hands. They were armed with short broad-bladed swords, not with the curved scimitars usual with Orcs; and they had bows of yew, in length and shape like the bows of Men. Upon their shields they bore a strange device: a small white hand in the centre of a black field; and on the front of their iron helms was set an S-rune, wrought of some white metal.” (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 1, “The Departure of Boromir”)

As well, at least some wear mail—as we learn from the moment when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli come upon the pyre of Orcs slain by the Rohirrim—

“Beside it was a great pile of helms and mail, cloven shields , and broken swords, bows and darts and other gear of war.” (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 2, “The Riders of Rohan”)

We know from the text that these would have been the “gear of war” of both Sauron’s and Saruman’s Orcs, as the two troops were uneasily combined, but we can confirm the gear of Sauron’s orcs from a later description, when, in the Tower of Cirith Ungol, Sam and Frodo are dressing up as Orcs—

“There were long hairy breeches of some unclean beast-fell, and a tunic of dirty leather….Over the tunic went a coat of stout ring-mail, short for a full-sized orc, too long for Frodo and heavy. About it he clasped a belt, at which there hung a short sheath holding a broad-bladed stabbing-sword. Sam had brought several orc-helmets. One of them fitted Frodo well enough, a black cap with iron rim, and iron hoops covered with leather upon which the Evil Eye was painted in red above the beaklike nose-guard.” (The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 1, “The Tower of Cirith Ungol”)

(Alan Lee)

(Denis Gordeev)

And, finally, there are Sauron’s allies from the east and from the south. In the Jackson film, the easterners look like this—

whose helmets vaguely remind me of a combination of elements of certain Japanese foot soldier and Samurai helmets—

JRRT doesn’t appear to have given us a very clear description of the Easterners, other than to write:

“But here and there [Frodo] caught the gleam of spears and helmets…” (The Two Towers. Book Four, Chapter 3, “The Black Gate is Closed”)

About those from the south, however, he gives us a more detailed description and a pathetic one, about a warrior killed by Faramir’s men in ambush:

“Then suddenly straight over the rim of their sheltering bank, a man fell, crashing through the slender trees, nearly on top of [Frodo and Sam]. He came to rest in the fern a few feet away, face downward, green arrow-feathers sticking from his neck below a golden collar. His scarlet robes were tattered, his corselet of overlapping brazen plates was rent and hewn, his black plaits of hair braided with gold were drenched in blood. His brown hand still clutched the hilt of a broken sword…

…[Sam] wondered what the man’s name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home and if he would not really rather have stayed there in peace.” (The Two Towers, Book Four, Chapter 4, “Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit”)

We don’t know if this man was wearing a helmet or carrying a shield, but he is wearing armor—this “corselet” is what is called “lamellar armor”, and looks rather like fish scales—

In this description, I’ll conclude this brief look at how Tolkien might have imagined his various warriors dressed, but, at the same time, that last bit of description makes me wonder—was this how JRRT thought, when he saw his first battlefield casualty?

If so, it shows his emotional complexity in that he can write about glorious cavalry charges on the one hand,

(Denis Gordeev)

but have Sam express a melancholy, compassionate thought, on the other.

As always, thanks for reading.

Stay well,

Remember that November 11^th is the 108^th anniversary of the Armistice which brought the Great War (World War One) and its monstrous slaughter close to its close—

And remember, as well, that, as ever, there’s

MTCIDC

Solution (2)

19 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Aragorn, Arwen, Boromir, Eowyn, Fantasy, Faramir, Into the Woods, lotr, Merry, Palantir, Rangers, riddles, Saruman, Sauron, Stephen Sondheim, The Lord of the Rings, the Mouth of Sauron, the Oath-breakers, the Sceptre of Annuminas, the Stone of Erech, the White Tree of Gondor, Tolkien

As ever, dear readers, welcome.

In my next-to-last, we were given two riddles: one, in a dream sent to Faramir and Boromir, the other posed by Bilbo, both appearing in the council of Elrond—

“Seek for the Sword that was broken:

In Imladris it dwells;

There shall be counsels taken

Stronger than Morgul-spells.

There shall be shown a token

That Doom is near at hand,

For Isildur’s Bane shall waken,

And the Halfling forth shall stand.”

The second is presented by Bilbo:

“All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken:

The crownless again shall be king.”

(The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

As Aragorn displays the sword—originally belonging to Elendil, the founder of Gondor—and Frodo, the Halfling, at Gandalf’s bidding, brings out the Ring (Isildur’s Bane), we might think that both riddles have been solved—but Boromir, for one, has doubts:

“ ‘Isildur’s Bane is found, you say…I have seen a bright ring in the Halfling’s hand, but Isildur perished ere this age of the world began, they say. How do the Wise know that this ring is his? And how has it passed down the years, until it is brought hither by so strange a messenger?’ “

And there are greater doubts—as voiced by the Mouth of Sauron:

“ ‘Is there anyone in this rout [“mob”] to treat with me?…Or indeed the wit to understand me? Not thou at least!’ he mocked, turning to Aragorn with scorn. ‘It needs more to make a king than a piece of Elvish glass, or a rabble such as this. Why, any brigand of the hills can show as good a following!’ “ (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 10, “The Black Gate Opens”)

(Douglas Beekman—for more on him and his work, see: https://sf-encyclopedia.com/entry/beekman_doug )

How, beyond the broken sword

and his claim, can Aragorn prove that he is the wanderer, the light, the crownless?

The wanderer part is perhaps the easiest, because it’s self-evident: Aragorn

(the Hildebrandts)

is a ranger, one of those few survivors of the lost north kingdom of Arnor,

(Stephen Raw—you can learn a little more about him here: https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Stephen_Raw )

of whom the narrator of The Lord of the Rings says:

“In those days no other Men had settled dwellings so far west, or within a hundred leagues of the Shire. But in the wild lands beyond Bree there were mysterious wanderers. The Bree-folk called them Rangers, and knew nothing of their origin…They roamed at will southwards, and eastwards even as far as the Misty Mountains; but they were few now and rarely seen.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 9, “At the Sign of the Prancing Pony”)

For further proofs, I’m reminded of Stephen Sondheim’s wonderful musical Into the Woods, 1987,

in which two characters, the Baker and his Wife, to have a witch’s curse removed, must bring her: “the cow as white as milk, the cape as red as blood, the hair as yellow as corn, and the slipper as pure as gold” and much of the plot concerns their journey in the Woods to try to obtain these things—just the sort of objects one might obtain on a quest. (For more on quests, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quest )

In Aragorn’s case, although he’s not on a deliberate quest, one piece of his evidence is acquired as he and the Fellowship travel southwards: the Palantir, inadvertently provided by Saruman.

(the Hildebrandts)

Pippin learns, to his unhappiness, that this isn’t something which one can casually pick up, but Aragorn, having used it, says to Gimli:

“I am the lawful master of the Stone, and I had both the right and the strength to use it…”

and here we see JRRT, in a brilliant bit of plotting, adding the reforged sword to the Palantir:

“…but Sauron has not forgotten Isildur and the sword of Elendil. Now in the very hour of his great designs the heir of Isildur and the Sword are revealed; for I showed the blade re-forged to him.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 2, “The Passing of the Grey Company”)

So, now we have the shattered Sword and a display of Aragorn’s control of a Palantir, the next proof isn’t an object, but an event.

Aragorn and his company follow the Paths of the Dead under the mountains, coming out at last to the Hill of Erech and its large, round, black stone.

(from Lotro-Wiki—where you can find more details: https://lotro-wiki.com/wiki/The_Stone_of_Erech_(King’s_Gondor) and here: https://lotro-wiki.com/wiki/Vandassar )

Behind them have come the “Oathbreakers”, men of long ago, who had pledged to help Isildur against Sauron, but then refused to join him. In response, Isildur cursed them and they retreated to the hills and gradually faded, becoming uneasy spirits which troubled the land. (For more, see: https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Oathbreakers ) Aragorn has summoned them and here we see another proof:

“ ‘The hour is come at last. Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and ye shall come with me. And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and ye shall have peace and depart for ever. For I am Elessar, Isildur’s heir of Gondor.’ “ (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 2, “The Passing of the Grey Company”)

(Ted Nasmith)

To this, we can add a skill.

In the battles before Minas Tirith, Faramir has been struck down—seemingly by both a Southron arrow and by a Nazgul’s Black Breath—

(Angus McBride)

and both Eowyn and Merry have suffered from their fight with the chief of the Nazgul.

(Ted Nasmith)

They are brought to the Houses of Healing and there Ioreth, “the eldest of the women who served in that house”, looking at Faramir, said:

“ ‘Alas! If he should die. Would that there were kings in Gondor, as there were once upon a time, they say! For it is said in the old lore: The hands of the king are the hands of a healer. And so the rightful king could ever be known.’ “

Using the herb athelas/kingsfoil, as well as some unspoken power, Aragorn restores all three, at which Ioreth says:

“ ‘King! Did you hear that? What did I say? The hands of a healer, I said.’ “

(the Hildebrandts)

Her words spread:

“And soon the word had gone out from the House that the king was indeed come among them, and after the war he brought healing, and the news ran through the city.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 8, “The Houses of Healing”)

And, finally, a sign. The White Tree, symbol of Gondor—

“ ‘There in the courts of the King grew a white tree, from the seed of that tree which Isildur brought over the deep waters, and the seed of that tree came from Eressea, and before that out of the Uttermost West in the Day before days when the world was young.’ “ (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

(artist? So far, no luck in finding one, but I would be glad to credit someone for this impressive image.)

but now—

“A sweet fountain played there in the morning sun, and a sward of bright green lay about it, but in the midst, drooping over the pool, stood a dead tree, and the falling drops dripped sadly from its barren and broken branches back into the clear water.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 1, “Minas Tirith”)

(from Jackson’s film)

As this is the emblem of Gondor itself,

a replacement would certainly be a sign of renewal, which even after the defeat of Sauron seems doubtful to Aragorn:

“ ‘The tree in the Court of the Fountain is still withered and barren. When shall I see a sign that it will ever be otherwise?’ “

Gandalf leads him to a place high on Mount Mindolluin and reveals to him:

“…a sapling tree no more than three foot high. Already it had put forth young leaves long and shapely, dark above and silver beneath, and upon its slender crown it bore one small cluster of flowers whose petals shone like the sunlit snow.”

“Then Aragorn cried: ‘Ye! Utuvienyes! I have found it! Lo! Here is a scion of the Eldest of Trees!’ “

Gandalf is vague about its origins there, but says to Aragorn:

“ ‘Here it has lain hidden on the mountain, even as the race of Elendil lay hidden in the wastes of the North.’ “

Aragorn transplants it to the Court of the Fountain and sees its growth as a kind of prophecy—

“ ‘The sign has been given…’ “

On “the day before Midsummer”, the whole of the household of Elrond then appears at Minas Tirith, Elrond himself “bearing the sceptre of Annuminas”. (The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 5, “The Steward and the King”)

In Appendix A, this object is explained:

“The sceptre was the chief mark of royalty in Numenor…and that was also so in Arnor, whose kings wore no crown, but bore a single white gem, the Elendilmir, Star of Elendil, bound on their brows with a silver fillet.” (The Lord of the Rings, Appendix A, “The North-kingdom and the Dunedain”)

(not the sceptre of Annuminas, described as a simple silver rod, but it will give you the idea)

Then—

“…the King welcomed his guests, and they alighted; and Elrond surrendered the sceptre…”

And here we have a final proof: the shattered sword, the ranger, the Palantir, the healing hands, the White Tree, and now the sceptre of Numenor—just as the acquisition by the Baker and his Wife of “the cow as white as milk, the cape as red as blood, the hair as yellow as corn, and the slipper as pure as gold” will allow them to break the curse, with the sceptre the confirmation that Aragorn is the rightful king is complete—although we should also add:

“And Aragorn the King Elessar wedded Arwen Undomiel in the City of the Kings upon the day of Midsummer, and the tale of their long waiting and labours was come to fulfillment.”

(the Hildebrandts)

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Stay well,

And remember, as always, that there’s

MTCIDC

Solution (1)

05 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Aragorn, Bilbo, Boromir, Fantasy, Gollum, lotr, riddles, The Lord of the Rings, the Mouth of Sauron, Tolkien

As always, dear readers, welcome.

When you reread The Hobbit, do you look forward to any particular chapter? Mine is Chapter 5, “Riddles in the Dark”–

(Alan Lee)

although, logically, I’ve always wondered about the conditions of the riddle game: if Bilbo lost, would he automatically have shrugged, put down Sting, and allowed Gollum to make a meal out of him?

Still, the consequence of losing gives the scene an extra tension, along with Bilbo being at an unknown location, being alone in the dark, and sitting next to such a strange and menacing creature. (I also wonder about Gollum’s language: he had gained the Ring about the year TA 2463 and met Bilbo in TA 2941, meaning that he had been born over 500 years before. Gollum had been in hiding for virtually all of that time, so that he had had no contact with native speakers of his language, which would be rather like someone from Shakespeare’s time suddenly meeting us. We know what Shakespeare’s English sounded like—see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2QYGEwM1Sk if you don’t—so would he have, in fact, been harder to understand than he appears in The Hobbit, with his snaky hissings?)

About the riddles, Tolkien once wrote:

“And what about the Riddles? There is work to be done here on the sources and analogues. I should not be at all surprised to learn that both the hobbit and Gollum will find their claim to have invented any of them disallowed.” (letter to the editor of The Observer, printed in the paper 20 February, 1938, Letters, 42)

In fact, almost 10 years later, he has more to say about their “sources and analogues”:

“As for the Riddles: they are ‘all my own work’ except for ‘Thirty White Horses’ which is traditional, and ‘No-legs’. The remainder, though their style and method is that of old literary (but not ‘folk-lore’), have no models as far as I am aware, save only the egg-riddle which is a reduction to a couplet (my own) of a longer literary riddle which appears in some ‘Nursery Rhyme’ books, notably American ones.” (from a letter to Allen & Unwin, 20 September, 1947, Letters, 177)

These are all riddles in The Hobbit, in the contest between Gollum and Bilbo, but in The Lord of the Rings, two more riddles appear, the first presented in a dream which both Faramir and Boromir have had:

“Seek for the Sword that was broken:

In Imladris it dwells;

There shall be counsels taken

Stronger than Morgul-spells.

There shall be shown a token

That Doom is near at hand,

For Isildur’s Bane shall waken,

And the Halfling forth shall stand.”

The second is presented by Bilbo:

“All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken:

The crownless again shall be king.”

(The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

Parts of these two riddles are answered immediately—

“ ‘And here in the house of Elrond more shall be made clear to you,’ said Aragorn, standing up. He cast his sword upon the table and that before Elrond, and the blade was in two pieces. ‘Here is the Sword that was broken!’ “

And Gandalf then adds:

“ ‘Bring out the Ring, Frodo!’ said Gandalf solemnly. ‘The time has come. Hold it up, and then Boromir will understand the remainder of his riddle.’ “

So much for the Bane, the Sword, and the Halfling, but there is a further part of the riddle, however, that it will take much of the rest of the story to solve: who is the unglittering gold, the wanderer, the light and fire, the crownless?

It’s also important to note that, as well as riddling, there is prophesying here: it begins with “Doom near at hand” and “a fire shall be woken”, as well as “a light from the shadows shall spring”, “renewed shall be blade that was broken”, and “the crownless again shall be king”. With words like “renewed” and “again”, there is a sense both of the past and the future here, and, linked with the previous “unglittering” and “wanderer”, it suggests that some one, not some thing, is the answer to these riddles—and what about that “Doom”?

Boromir is puzzled: “Isildur’s Bane” (“bane”= “curse”) is identified as the Ring, which Frodo, the Halfling, has held up, but—

“Boromir’s eyes glinted as he gazed at the golden thing. ‘The Halfling!’ he muttered. ‘Is then the doom of Minas Tirith come at last? But why then should we seek a broken sword?’ “

Appropriately, it is the holder of that sword who responds:

“ ‘The words were not the doom of Minas Tirith,’ said Aragorn. ‘But doom and great deeds are indeed at hand.’ “

To JRRT, the medievalist, “doom”, coming originally from Old English “dom”, which has a fairly wide field of meanings but, in Middle English, can mean “fate”, and, combined with all of the prophecy we’ve just seen, might suggest “something inevitable”—but not necessarily evil—especially provided that the conditions set out are understood and fulfilled:

1. the sword must be reforged

2. the Ring must reappear, in the hands of a hobbit

What happens then is left open—what must be done with the sword and the Ring?

One part of the riddles, however,, is made clearer when Aragorn continues:

“ ‘For the Sword that was Broken is the Sword of Elendil that broke beneath him when he fell. It has been treasured by his heirs when all other heirlooms were lost; for it was spoken of old among us that it should be made again when the Ring, Isildur’s Bane, was found. Now you have seen the sword that you have sought, what would you ask? Do you wish for the House of Elendil to return to the Land of Gondor?’ “

So, following that, we can guess that the inheritor of the sword must then be the wanderer, the unglittering—but then, to take it a step farther, he must also be descended directly from Elendil, the founder of Gondor—and therefore be that uncrowned king.

Boromir has already had his doubts, even before Frodo displays the Ring:

“ ‘And who are you, and what have you to do with Minas Tirith?’ asked Boromir, looking in wonder at the lean face of the Ranger and his weather-stained cloak.“

And even after Gandalf identifies Aragorn as the descendant of Isildur, son of Elendil, Boromir continues to doubt:

So, although possessing the sword, Aragorn’s claims are questioned and this is, really, a new riddle: how can he back up his claim as to who he is and what he should then inherit?

As the Voice of Sauron says:

(Douglas Beekman—for more on him and his work, see: https://sf-encyclopedia.com/entry/beekman_doug )

In part two of this posting, we will see the answer.

Thanks, as ever, for reading.

Stay well,

If you’ve seen this rear-window sticker, wonder if Aragorn has learned to drive,

And remember that there’s

MTCIDC

Prismatic

20 Monday Jul 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Aristotle, Balrog, color-theory, De Coloribus, electromagnetic-spectrum, Fantasy, Gandalf, Isaac Newton, Istari, lotr, Maiar, Radagast, Saruman, Sauron, Shadowfax, the blue wizards, the electromagnetic spectrum, The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien, wizards

As always, dear readers, welcome.

“ ‘So you have come, Gandalf,’ he said to me gravely; but in his eyes there seemed to be a white light, as if a cold laughter was in his heart.

‘Yes, I have come,’ I said. ‘I have come for your aid, Saruman the White.’ And that title seemed to anger him.

‘Have you indeed, Gandalf the Grey!’ he scoffed…”

This seems like an odd bit of dialogue—why such an emphasis on colors? And there’s more—

“ ‘Radagast the Brown!’ laughed Saruman, and he no longer concealed his scorn. ‘Radagast the Bird-tamer! Radagast the Simple! Radagast the Fool!’ “ (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

These colors began with the arrival of the 5 “wizards” (Istari) on Middle-earth, a thousand years into the Third Age. They are, in fact, Maiar, which we may think of as a form of “lesser angel”—that is, belonging to the orders of spiritual beings who inhabit Valinor, to the far west of Middle-earth.

(Karen Wynn Fonstad)

These particular Maiar were intended to be a counterforce to Sauron, who appeared to be once more on the rise. Although there were 5 of them—Saruman, Gandalf, Radagast—and two more who may have been named Alatar and Pallando—and all had colors attached to them—Saruman white,

(the Hildebrandts)

Gandalf grey,

(the Hildebrandts)

Radagast brown,

(I can’t find an artist for this, but it strikes me as a much better depiction than that seen in the Jackson Hobbit movies.)

and the other two blue—those last two, only briefly mentioned, go eastwards and disappear entirely from the narrative. (For more details, see Unfinished Tales, 405-420)

As for the other three, their colors appear to have a definite significance: Radagast is an earthy type, with a passion for birds and animals, Gandalf is seen as an elderly man, grey as his garments, and Saruman as “the greatest of my order”, as Gandalf once described him, could be stainless in white.

And this is where color comes in in a different way and we see why Saruman is not pleased at being given his old title—

“ ‘For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colours!’

I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered.”

Although Gandalf’s eye might have been bewildered, his mind was clearly not:

‘I liked white better,’ I said.”

White was the color in which Saruman had appeared on his mission to Middle-earth and his behavior at Gandalf’s arrival shows that he has already betrayed that mission:

“ ‘For you have come, and that was all the purpose of my message. And here you will stay, Gandalf the Grey, and rest from journeys.’

“Rest”, of course, is not quite what Saruman has in mind.

‘He was cold now and perilous. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I did not expect you to show wisdom, even in your own behalf; but I gave you the chance of aiding me willingly, and so saving yourself much trouble and pain. The third choice is to stay here until the end.’

‘Until what end?’

‘Until you reveal to me where the One may be found. I may find means to persuade you. Or until it is found in your despite, and the Ruler has time to turn to lighter matters: to devise, say, a fitting reward for the hindrance and insolence of Gandalf the Grey.’ “

“The Ruler”, we can suppose, is Sauron, but Saruman has plans of his own, proposing, when the Ring has been discovered, not to turn it over to that “Ruler”, but to keep it:

“ ‘Why not? The Ruling Ring? If we could command that, then the Power would pass to us.’ “

But Gandalf sees through this immediately:

“ ‘Saruman…only one hand at a time can wield the One, and you know that well, so do not trouble to say we!’ “

Thus, not only has Saruman betrayed his mission from the Valar, but he plans to betray the object of that mission, Sauron, as well. It’s no wonder, then, that he no longer wears white—and, in fact, has nothing but contempt for it:

“ ‘White!’ he sneered. ‘It serves as a beginning. White cloth may be dyed. The white page can be overwritten; and the white light can be broken.’ “

And here Tolkien suggests that Saruman has rather advanced information about the science of optics.

In our Middle-earth, up until at least the beginning of the 18^th century, people subscribed to the theory, created perhaps by Aristotle (384-322BC),

that colors were, in fact, a mixture of certain simpler colors, like black and white (see for more on this: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_Colors ).

It was Isaac Newton’s (1642-1727) experiments with prisms

which led to a different theory—that the “white” light which he passed through a prism

was actually a series of colored lights, a theory which he published in 1704,

and which is the basis of our current understanding of light and color. (For more on the electromagnetic spectrum, see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Vsl0Iom3S0 This is from a children’s program and about my level of understanding!)

To Gandalf, seeing Saruman’s actions as the betrayal they are, replies:

“ ‘In which case it is no longer white,’ I said.”

Just as Saruman is no longer the leader of the Maiar mission to Middle-earth, but a would-be Sauron, an imitation “Ring-maker”, who will, in time, be overthrown and eventually die a miserable death, murdered by his own agent.

(Joan Wyatt—you can see more of her work here: https://www.artnet.com/artists/joan-wyatt/ )

But this is not the end of wizard colors, of course. Gandalf appears to die, dragged down into the depths of Moria along with the Balrog,

(Denis Gordeev)

but reappears, not as Gandalf the Grey or Gandalf of Many Colors, but as Gandalf the White,

(the Hildebrandts)

and here we see white in a new light (sorry!): as the color of someone who has been purified by his near-death experience and returned to become that leader of resistance to Sauron that Saruman, in breaking that trust, has betrayed.

Is it surprising that Shadowfax, his horse, is white, as well?

(Angus McBride)

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Stay well,

Imagine a spectrum where we could see all of the other elements, like ultraviolet and gamma-rays,

But, until we can, at least remember that there’s

MTCIDC

Towering.3

08 Wednesday Jul 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Aucassin et Nicolette, Barad-Dur, chantefable, Childe Roland, dark-tower, English Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, King Lear, lotr, Men and Women, Minas Morgul, Robert Browning, Shakespeare, the Dark Tower, The Lord of the Rings, the Morannon, Tolkien, towers

As ever, welcome, dear readers.

In our last, we began a tour and catalogue of towers as we see them in The Lord of the Rings.

We set off from the Elvish towers in the far west of Middle-earth.

(Ted Nasmith)

From there, we traveled east and south to Amon Sul, aka Weathertop.

(Alan Lee)

Unlike the Fellowship, we then went all the way down along the western side of the Misty Mountains

until we reached Isengard and the tower of Orthanc.

Leaving Isengard, we journeyed farther south yet to Helm’s Deep and its tower

(JRRT)

and then farther yet to Minas Tirith and the tower of Echthelion

(Ted Nasmith)

before turning eastwards, crossing the Anduin, to finish part 1 at Minas Morgul—formerly Minas Ithil.

(Ted Nasmith)

This marks the beginning of Frodo and Sam’s final leg, into Mordor, where we paused for the moment—but now we pick up the journey again and step into Mordor itself—but, as we’ll finish with Sauron’s hangout, let’s first grab an eagle

(Ted Nasmith—and I want to point out that this wonderful artist has illustrated things from Tolkien beyond The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings—this image, for instance is an illustration from the history of the Elvish city of Gondolin. For more on Gondolin, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gondolin )

and fly north to the other entrance to Mordor, at the Morannon—the Black Gate.

(an early illustration by the Hildebrandts)

(a later illustration by Alan Lee—I thought the contrast in conceptions of the Gate was interesting. The Hildebrandts were pioneers in Tolkien illustration and certain of their images—like Gandalf’s original appearance to Bilbo—have always been favorites.)

Our narrator gives us a description—and history–of the place:

“But as the ranges [of Ephel Duath and Ered Lithui] approached one another, being but parts of one great wall about the mournful plains of Lithlad and of Gorgoroth, and the bitter inland sea of Nurnen amidmost, they swung out long arms northward; and between these arms there was a deep defile. This was Cirith Gorgor, the Haunted Pass, the entrance to the land of the Enemy. High cliffs lowered upon either side, and thrust forward from its mouth were two sheer hills, black-boned and bare. Upon them stood the Teeth of Mordor, two towers strong and tall. In days long past they were built by the Men of Gondor in their pride and power, after the overthrow of Sauron and his flight, lest he should seek to return to his old realm. But the strength of Gondor failed, and men slept, and for long years the towers stood empty. Then Sauron returned. Now the watch-towers, which had fallen into decay, were repaired and filled with arms, and garrisoned with ceaseless vigilance. Stony-faced they were, with dark window-holes staring north and east and west, and each window was filled with sleepless eyes.

Across the mouth of the pass, from cliff to cliff, the Dark Lord had built a rampart of stone. In it there was a single gate of iron, and upon its battlements sentinels paced unceasingly. Beneath the hills on either side the rock was bored into a hundred caves and maggot-holes…” (The Two Towers, Book Four, Chapter 3, “The Black Gate is closed”)

As always, we see in The Lord of the Rings a Middle-earth which has a history which stretches back far from the present moment. Sauron had been defeated by the Last Alliance in SA 3441. While traveling with Frodo and Sam, we set off in TA 3018—over 3000 (!) years later. (Frodo is astonished to hear from Elrond an eye-witness account of that event—see The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”) Thus, the two original towers—ironically constructed to keep Sauron out—must have been built somewhere at the end of the Second Age or at the beginning of the Third, and the wall between constructed after c.TA 2942, when Sauron had been driven by the White Council from Dol Goldur,

(John Howe—if we had more information about this place, I might have included it in our tour, but it appears to be more mentioned than explained in detail.)

and returned to Mordor.

And now we come to the end of our tower tour at the most fearsome of those towers: the Barad-dur.

(JRRT—a shame that this is only a fragment)

(both by Ted Nasmith—the first strikes me as more menacing in its monumentality, the second, more elaborate and baroque, suggesting a Sauron with a taste for the ornamental, rather than simply the grimly practical.)

Frodo first sees it at Amon Hen,

(Scott Peery—for more images see: https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Category:Images_by_Scott_Peery )

when he puts on the Ring and first Minas Tirith appears, but then—

“But against Minas Tirith was set another fortress, greater and more strong. Thither, eastward, unwilling his eyes were drawn…Then at last his gaze was held: wall upon wall, battlement upon battlement, black, immeasurably strong, mountain of iron, gate of steel, tower of adamant, he saw it: Barad-dur, Fortress of Sauron.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 10, “The Breaking of the Fellowship”)

Sauron had begun the construction of this menacing place in SA 1000, completing it 600 years KinAlliance, returns to rebuild it in TA 2951 (Appendix B, “The Third Age”), its final destruction coming with the destruction of the Ring in TA 3019.

(Ted Nasmith—with the very interesting label “Rangers scout the ruins of Barad-dur”)

As we know, “Barad-dur” means “Dark Tower” and that name made me wonder about where it might have come from, apart from JRRT’s amazingly fertile imagination.

One possibility could be a poem by Robert Browning (1812-1889), entitled “Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came”, which is in his 1855 collection Men and Women.

It’s a rather creepy poem about a knight on an unknown mission—except that it seems to end at that Dark Tower. You can read it here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/1597010/childe-roland-to-the-dark-tower-came

The only reference in Letters is to another Browning poem, “The Pied Piper of Hamelin”, which Tolkien said he loathed, but the medieval setting and the popularity of Browning in the later 19^th century might suggest that Tolkien had read it—with perhaps less distaste than he did “The Pied Piper”—but the Browning poem is actually his recreation of what might have been a much earlier ballad, only a fragment of which appears to survive, in Shakespeare’s King Lear, where, at the end of Act 3, Scene 4, a major character, Edgar, pretending to be “Poor Tom”, a madman, recites:

“Childe Rowland to the darke Tower came,

His word was still, fie, foh, and fumme,

I smell the blood of a Brittish man.”

(This is from the “First Folio” of 1623—I always prefer using early versions of Shakespeare’s texts as their spelling echoes earlier English pronunciation—so-called “Shakespearean”, which you can hear here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2QYGEwM1Sk You can read the whole play in this older spelling here: https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/Lr_F1/scene/1.1/index.html )

You probably know two of these lines from the English fairy tale “Jack and the Beanstalk”—sometimes called “Jack the Giant-Killer”–which you can read here, if you don’t know it, or would like to refresh your memory (start on page 99): https://archive.org/details/englishfairytal00jacogoog/page/n8/mode/2up You’ll also notice, facing the title page of this volume, an illustration entitled “Childe Rowland”,

a story which you can find beginning on page 117. The editor of this text (English Fairy Tales, 1890), Joseph Jacobs, has provided a long note (pages 238-245) about his major source, citing Jamieson’s 1814 collection, Illustrations of Northern Antiquities where Jamieson reconstructs something which combines verse and prose—as JRRT sometimes does—in what is called a “chantefable”, in which a character called “Burd Ellen” is rescued from Elfland by “Child Rowland”, (“Child/e” is a title for a young nobleman pre-knighthood.) a familiar theme in a number of ballads and which Jamieson links to a Danish balled, “Rosmer Hafmand”. You can read Jamieson’s account here: https://archive.org/details/cu31924027097868/page/396/mode/2up

(For more on the one known surviving example of the “chantefable”, the 12^th-13^th century “Aucassin et Nicolette”, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aucassin_and_Nicolette )

So, did at least the name “Dark Tower” come from a literary source—Browning’s poem, say?

Or, can we turn to Browning’s source: King Lear?

For all that Tolkien was not, initially a Shakespeare fan (see his letter to W.H. Auden, 7 June, 1955, Letters, 312), he later came to appreciate him—at least in performance—(see letter to Christopher Tolkien, 28 July, 1944, Letters, 126), and we know that he had been exposed to Shakespeare’s works at an early age, so perhaps Shakespeare was a—if not the—inspiration?

In any event, that tower was doomed to ultimate destruction with that of the Ring, as we read:

“The earth groaned and quaked. The Towers of the Teeth swayed, tottered, and fell down; the mighty rampart crumbled; the Black Gate was hurled in ruin; and from far away, now dim, now growing, now mounting to the clouds, there came a drumming rumble, a roar, a long echoing roll of ruinous noise.” (The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 4, “The Field of Cormallen”)

(Ted Nasmith)

And with the end of the Dark Tower, this tour of towers ends, as well.

Thanks for reading, as always.

Stay well,

If you are trapped underground and find a simple ring, consider, before you pick it up, that there may be consequences,

And expect

MTCIDC

Gundulf

24 Wednesday Jun 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Aragorn, Bingo, bishop, Bladorthin, crozier, Elder Edda, Fantasy, Gandalf, Grima, Gundulf of Rochester, Lanfranc, lotr, Poetic Edda, Rochester Cathedral, stigand, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The White Tower, Theoden, Tolkien, tolkiens-names, Trotter, Trotter., Voluspa

As always, dear readers, welcome.

Bladorthin? How would we feel if, as in early drafts of The Hobbit, this were the name by which we knew the somewhat mysterious figure who visited Bilbo Baggins, looking for someone to go on an adventure?

(the Hildebrandts)

I, for one, am glad to see that name consigned to manuscripts, along with other early names, like “Bingo” (Frodo) and “Trotter”, later to become “Aragorn” and turn as well from a “Hobbit ranger” into the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor,

(the Hildebrandts again)

initially, as he tells us, to the surprise of the author (see a letter to W.H. Auden, 7 June, 1955, Letters, 315-16)

(If you want to read that draft in which Bladorthin appears, see John D. Rateliffe’s monumental The History of the Hobbit, 30-31, where the name appears just where we now read “Gandalf”, as in:

“Bladorthin! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have (and I have heard only a tiny bit what there is to hear) about him you would be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale.” (30) )

Instead, we know him as Gandalf, whose name—along with those of the dwarves—as Tolkien tells the editor of the Observer: “…are from the Elder Edda.” (letter to the editor of the Observer, published 20 Ferbruary, 1938, Letters, 41)

By “Elder Edda”, JRRT was referring to a 13^th century collection of poems also referred to as “the Poetic Edda” and, within it, to one specific section, called “Voluspa”, “prophesy of the volva”, a kind of seeress. (Also called a “vala”–for more on such magical figures, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seeress_(Germanic) For more on the Eddas, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edda )

In this particular poem, the seeress mentions the creation of the dwarves (quoted here from Benjamin Thorpe’s 1906 translation of both the “Poetic Edda” and the “Prose Edda” which you can read here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/14726/14726-h/14726-h.htm ):

“9. Then went all the powers to their judgment-seats, the all-holy gods, and thereon held council, who should of the dwarfs the race create, from the sea-giant’s blood and livid bones.

10. Then was Môtsognir created greatest of all the dwarfs, and Durin second; there in man’s likeness they created many dwarfs from earth, as Durin said.

11. Nýi and Nidi, Nordri and Sudri, Austri and Vestri, Althiôf, Dvalin Nâr and Nâin, Niping, Dain, Bivör, Bavör, Bömbur, Nori, An and Anar, Ai, Miodvitnir,

12. Veig and Gandâlf, Vindâlf, Thrain, Thekk and Thorin, Thrôr, Vitr, and Litr, Nûr and Nýrâd, Regin and Râdsvid. Now of the dwarfs I have rightly told.

13. Fili, Kili, Fundin, Nali, Hepti, Vili, Hanar, Svior, Billing, Bruni, Bild, Bûri, Frâr, Hornbori, Fræg and Lôni, Aurvang, Iari, Eikinskialdi.” (Thorpe, “Voluspa”, page 2)

You can see a number of familiar dwarf names here, as well as other names which Tolkien didn’t use, and, in section 12, “Gandalf” (although this was, originally, Tolkien’s choice for the character who then become Thorin, possibly because Tolkien might have associated him with the medieval ruler of Alfheim, in southern Norway? The part of Norway he ruled might also have appealed to Tolkien, “Alfheim” meaning “Elfhome/world/land”—see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gandalf_Alfgeirsson as well as Rateliffe, “Introduction”, xi-xii)

So our documentation goes, but, by an odd chance, I came across someone whose name might also have been an influence: Gundulf, the 11-12^th-century Bishop of Rochester and architect.

I had originally simply been thinking about the name “Gandalf”, which appears to be a compound of two Old Norse words, “gandr” , “[magic] staff” and “alfr”—“elf”—see Geir Zoega, A Concise Dictionary of Old Icelandic, 1910, for further details. And JRRT certainly is aware of that staff—see his illustration, for instance, of the turning of the trolls into stone—

(JRRT)

Then I found that Norse king, Gandalf, and, prompted by that, I wondered about alternate spellings, which brought up this Wikipedia list:

“Gondulf of Provence, 6th-century duke and possibly made Bishop of Metz in 591

Indulf (6th century) (fl. 549–552 or 553), also known as Gundulf, Byzantine mercenary and Ostrogoth army leader

Gondulphus of Berry, 7th-century bishop

Gondulph of Maastricht (died after 614), bishop and Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox saint

Gondulphus of Metz (died 823), Bishop of Metz

Gundolfo, early 11th century Italian heretic

Gundulf of Rochester (died 1108), English bishop”

Unlike the etymology of “Gandalf”, “Gundulf”, although a compound like “Gandalf”, combines “gund”, “battle” and “ulf”, “wolf”—“–“battlewolf”–fierce, but not so Tolkienesque as “Elfmagicstaff”.

It certainly seemed like an interesting collection of characters, however, and, thinking of Tolkien’s medievalism, Englishness, interest in religion, and how this might tie in with bishops, I wondered about Gundulf of Rochester, who, being a bishop, would have carried, as a badge of office, a crozier, a kind of staff, as we see in this modern (1888) depiction of Gundulf, from the west façade of Gundulf’s own Rochester Cathedral—

Gundulf seems to have been a remarkable man, having been a Norman monk brought to England by his patron, Lanfranc, the Abbot of the Abbey of St. Etienne in Normandy, and an ally of William, Duke of Normandy, who, when he had conquered England after 1066, appointed Lanfranc Archbishop of Canterbury.

(a 19^th-century depiction, from the south face of the southwest porch of Canterbury Cathedral. For more on Lanfranc, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lanfranc )

In 1077, Gundulf was made Bishop of Rochester, but, besides whatever his ecclesiastical interests, he was apparently also a talented architect, building, among other works, the White Tower at the center of the Tower of London—not quite what one would expect of a bishop,

but we should remember that his patron, Lanfranc, had only become Archbishop of Canterbury when the Anglo-Saxon Archbishop, Stigand,

(For more on Stigand, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stigand )

was deposed and imprisoned by the Normans, so Gundulf’s own position was seemingly only safe as long as the Normans remained in power, so self-interest alone might have kept him at work as an ecclesiastical/military architect. (For more on Gundulf, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gundulf_of_Rochester )

Could he have been another influence in turning Bladorthin into Gandalf? I can find no evidence in Tolkien’s letters that he knew of Gundulf, or even ever visited Rochester, but all of the interests above—medievalism, religion, and that crozier–

might have suggested a magic staff, perhaps, like the one Gandalf kept when entering Edoras and which he used to break Grima’s enchantment of Theoden:

“He raised his staff. There was a roll of thunder. The sunlight was blotted out from the eastern windows; the whole hall became suddenly dark as night. The fire faded to sullen embers. Only Gandalf could be seen, standing white and tall before the blackened hearth.” (The Two Towers, Book three, Chapter 6, “The King of the Golden Hall”)

(Alan Lee)

Might we from all of that then imagine that the “Voluspa” alone wasn’t the only reason for the disappearance of Bladorthin and his new baptism as Gandalf?

(Denis Gordeev)

Thanks, as ever, for reading.

Stay well,

Beware of evil counselors who claim that they’re acting in your best interest.

(the Hildebrandts)

And remember that, as always, there’s

MTCIDC

Saruman’s Sigh

13 Wednesday May 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

books, Captain Hook, Fantasy, Gandalf, Isengard, lotr, Orcs, Palantir, Saruman, Sauron, Tolkien

Welcome, as always, dear readers.

When it comes to The Lord of the Rings, I’m sure that everyone has favorite characters. I suppose that mine, if I had to pin it down to one, would be Sam. At the same time, I would also say that, for me, if you asked for other favorites, I might say Saruman—and, perhaps surprisingly, this might have been true for Tolkien, I would suggest, as well.

Saruman? Maybe I just have a perverse taste for villains—after all, I’ve always secretly liked Captain Hook,

and have a sneaking fondness for the Orcs,

(Alan Lee)

but I think that there’s, ultimately, a poignancy about Saruman—not in his behavior in the earlier parts of The Lord of the Rings, but in his end–which Tolkien, who could simply have painted him as a villain, clearly chose to add to his depiction, which says to me that he, too, found something more to say about the character.

Consider the end of Sauron, which is quite dramatic, if not downright apocalyptic—

(Ted Nasmith)

“And even as he spoke the earth rocked beneath their feet. Then rising swiftly up, far above the Towers of the Black Gate, high above the mountains, a vast soaring darkness sprang into the sky, flickering with fire. The earth groaned and quaked. The Towers of the Teeth swayed, tottered, and fell down; the mighty ramparts crumbled; the Black Gate was hurled in ruin; and from far away, now dim, now growing, now mounting to the clouds, there came a drumming rumble, a roar, a long echoing roll of ruinous noise…

And as the Captains gazed south to the Land of Mordor, it seemed to them that, black against the pall of cloud, there rose a huge shape of shadow, impenetrable, lightning-crowned, filling all the sky. Enormous it reared above the world, and stretched out towards them a vast, threatening hand, terrible but impotent; for even as it leaned over them, a great wind took it, and it was all blown away, and passed; and then a hush fell.” (The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 4, “The Field of Cormallen”)

In contrast, there is the death of Saruman—

“To the dismay of those that stood by, about the body of Saruman a grey mist gathered, and rising slowly to a great height like smoke from a fire, as a pale shrouded figure it loomed over the Hill For a moment it wavered, looking to the West; but out of the West came a cold wind, and it bent away, and with a sigh dissolved into nothing.

Frodo looked down at the body with pity and horror, for as he looked it seemed that long years of death were suddenly revealed in it, and it shrank, and the shrivelled face became rags of skin upon a hideous skull. Lifting up the skirt of the dirty cloak that sprawled beside it, he covered it over, and turned away.” (The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 8, “The Scouring of the Shire”)

(Joan Wyatt—you can see more of her work here: https://gallerix.org/storeroom/1692737256/ )

And yet both were powerful beings, Sauron being the more powerful, but both Maiar, the equivalent, we might say, of angels, in our Middle-earth.

As if it were only an expression of his personality, when Sauron was destroyed, all Mordor came crashing down, although all that we see of Sauron himself is that one “vast, threatening hand, terrible but impotent…”

(JRRT)

So what is the purpose, the meaning, of that simple sigh?

For all that they might attempt to control it in their various ways and scales, these two were not natives of Middle-earth. Rather, they were once inhabitants of Valinor, to the far west.

(Karen Wynn Fonstad)

Sauron had come in an earlier age of his own accord, intent upon conquest, whereas Saruman had been sent as one of the five Istari, as a counterbalance to Sauron, once servant to the fallen Vala, Melkor, and now a would-be Melkor himself, until something began to go wrong and, instead of countering Sauron, Saruman began to become like him.

This had happened, I think, in stages.

To begin with, there is the question of how the Istari were to act as a balance. It’s interesting that the two others of whom we know anything, Gandalf and Radagast, appear to have been sent as wanderers, as if their role was to counter Sauron’s influence over a wide area and perhaps in different ways, depending upon that influence.

In contrast, Saruman has not just a fixed home, but a fortress, Isengard,

(the Hildebrandts)

where he has found one of the seeing-stones, the Palantiri,

(the Hildebrandts)

although he has kept this discovery secret, only to be revealed after his defeat—a disturbing sign: why not let the other Istari know–unless its use was in itself suspect?

At the very beginning of The Lord of the Rings, Gandalf identifies Saruman to Frodo as “…great among the Wise…chief of my order…” and yet adds something very interesting, and perhaps another disturbing sign: “His knowledge is deep, but his pride has grown with it, and he takes ill any meddling.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 2, “The Shadow of the Past”)

We can’t know whether that pride which Gandalf mentions was already displaying itself then, but it’s clear that that discovery was fatal, the second stage in his corruption, pushing Saruman away from his role as a defender of Middle-earth into, in his own mind, the role of a potential conqueror and perhaps even rival to Sauron, although Saruman was

“…being deceived—for all of those arts and subtle devices, for which he forsook his former wisdom, and which fondly he imagined were his own, came but from Mordor; so that what he had made was naught, only a little copy, a child’s model or a slave’s flattery, of that vast fortress, armoury, prison, furnace of great power, Barad-dur, the Dark Tower, which suffered no rival, and laughed at flattery, biding its time, secure in its pride and its immeasurable strength.” (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 8, “The Road to Isengard”)

In his description of Saruman to Frodo, Gandalf had been specific about Saruman’s knowledge:

“The lore of the Elven-rings, great and small, is his province. He has long studied it, seeking the lost secrets of their making…”

And here perhaps is revealed another stage in Saruman’s corruption:

“…but when the Rings were debated in the Council, all that he would reveal to us of his ring-lore told against my fears…”

That is, just as in the case of the Palantir, Saruman has kept things back. Was Saruman acting on his own in this, or had the seeing-stone and its real controller already been working at his mind?

Certainly, when he makes his pompous and revelatory speech to Gandalf, hoping to persuade him to join him (which Gandalf immediately not only sees through, but sees how much of it isn’t even Saruman’s thinking, but the words of someone else), we have the sense that, whoever Saruman had been when he came to Middle-earth, that person had been twisted away from protecting Middle-earth from Sauron and was stating, instead, completely alien goals, as Gandalf recognized:

“We can bide our time, we can keep our thoughts in our hearts, deploring maybe evils done by the way, but approving the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends. There need not be, there would not be, any real change in our designs, only in our means.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book Two, Chapter 2, “The Council of Elrond”)

To Gandalf, this is Sauron talking:

“ ‘Saruman…I have heard speeches of this kind before, but only in the mouths of emissaries from Mordor to deceive the ignorant.’ “

and it’s clear to him that Saruman, seemingly unknowingly, has become a puppet of someone more powerful and devious than he.

The immediate instrument for this was, as I would suggest, that seeing-stone, but, beyond that, there was a vulnerability inherent in Saruman’s very being in Middle-earth, as Tolkien describes in a letter:

“But since in this tale & mythology Power—when it dominates or seeks to dominate other wills and minds (except by the assent of their reason)—is evil, these ‘wizards’ were incarnated in the life-forms of Middle-earth, and so suffered the pains both of mind and body. They were also, for the same reason, thus involved in the peril of the incarnate: the possibility of ‘fall’, of sin, if you will. The chief form this would take with them would be impatience, leading to the desire to force others to their own good ends, and so inevitably at last to mere desire to make their own wills effective by any means. To this evil Saruman succumbed.” (drafts to Michael Straight, “probably January or February 1956”, Letters, 342-343)

And here is where that “pride”, which Gandalf had mentioned to Frodo had appeared, added to which was his losing sight of the Valar’s purpose in sending him and acquiring a fortress, where Sauron was able to turn him to his own purposes—although we might imagine that, under Sauron’s domination, Saruman might still believe that he could escape Sauron’s notice, when he suggests to Gandalf

“As the Power grows, its proved friends will also grow; and the Wise, such as you and I, may with patience come at last to direct its courses, to control it.”

And even that he might imagine that he himself might employ the Ring—

“ ‘Why not? The Ruling Ring? If we should command that, then the Power would pass to us.’ “

Gandalf’s reply to this: “ ‘Saruman…only one hand at a time can wield the One, and you know that well, so do not trouble to say we…You were head of the Council, but you have unmasked yourself at last.” shows that Saruman has failed completely, both in his immediate quest to persuade Gandalf to tell him where the Ring currently is, and in his attempt to bring a fellow Istar to his side, having dismissed Radagast completely (“Radagast the Bird-tamer! Radagast the Simple! Radagast the Fool!”).

This, however, is only Saruman’s first failure. His attempt to out-Sauron Sauron by a war of conquest not only fails at Helm’s Deep, but brings about the destruction of his fortress at Isengard.

(Ted Nasmith)

He then loses the Palantir,

(Sergei Lukhimov—you can see a little more of his work here: https://imgur.com/gallery/1993-ukranian-artist-sergei-lukhimov-created-32-illustrations-first-ever-russian-edition-of-lord-of-rings-eastern-orthodox-iconography-meets-anglo-saxon-modern-mythology-Ct7ojT5 )

and is even exiled from his one-time place of power,

(Ted Nasmith)

before his attempt to ruin the Shire is stopped by the return of Frodo and his friends

(Alan Lee)

and his final confrontation with Frodo

(Inger Edelfeldt—you can read about her here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inger_Edelfeldt )

ends in his death—or the closest thing like it to someone from Valinor in the West—his rejection by it–

(Joan Wyatt)

One has only to remember the beautiful, melancholy farewells at the Grey Havens to see what Saruman might have been part of—

(Ted Nasmith)

Gandalf, with Sauron defeated, returns whence he came, his task complete. Saruman, failing in that task, has no home to which to return and “dissolved into nothing”, but that sigh—so important here—says that he knows that he has failed and, in depicting that recognition, I believe we see JRRT show some deeper feeling for him than he might ever have expressed for Sauron, even as he had written that Sauron had not begun as evil (see draft to Peter Hastings, September, 1954, Letters, 284).

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Stay well,

As well, consider the deep feeling which can rest even in a sigh,

And remember that, as always, there’s

MTCIDC

Planting

29 Wednesday Apr 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Bag End, Eavesdropping, Fantasy, Gardening, Guy Fawkes, lotr, plotting, Sam Gamgee, the Gaffer, The Ivy Bush, The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien

Welcome, as always, dear readers.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about plotting—not as in conspiracies, like Guy Fawkes,

who planned to blow up Parliament and James I with it,

but in the construction of fictional plots. The worse kind is what I would call examples of “fiat” writing—from the Latin subjunctive “let it be”, as in “fiat lux”—“let there be light”. In plots like this, things happen because the author wants them to and is too lazy or inept to work the details out in a systematic, believable way. (As I avoid harsh criticism in this blog, I won’t mention any examples, but I suspect that, if you are a reader of this blog, you know exactly what I mean and can supply your own.)

So let me show you an example of good, if not downright elegant, plotting, instead.

It’s about to be spring here, with things reluctantly beginning to flower and bud and spread, and that makes me think of gardens—which, I hope logically, makes me think of gardeners and that makes me think of the Gamgees, who have been gardeners for the Baggins for at least two generations—

“No one had a more attentive audience than old Ham Gamgee, commonly known as the Gaffer [a dialect form of “grandfather”].

(my favorite image—there don’t appear to be many—of the Gaffer, by Denis Gordeev)

He held forth at The Ivy Bush,

(I imagine it—minus the modern road—as looking something like this, which is the White Lion Inn in Bartholmley, Cheshire—about which you can read a little here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Lion,_Barthomley )

a small inn on the Bywater road; and he spoke with some authority, for he had tended the garden at Bag End for forty years, and had helped old Holman in the same job before that. Now that he was himself growing old and stiff in the joints, the job was mainly carried on by his youngest son, Sam Gamgee.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 1, “An Unexpected-party”)

And here the plotting begins, which will end with Sam incorporated into Frodo’s adventure with the Ring—not by “fiat”, but by a careful planting (sorry!) of details.

So, we know that the Gamgees are long-established at Bag End, not only the Gaffer, but his son, Sam.

Now we’re given another detail—and a very important one:

“ ‘But my lad Sam will know more about that. He’s in and out of Bag End. Crazy about stories of the old days, he is, and he listens to all of Mr. Bilbo’s tales…

‘Elves and Dragons!’ I says to him. ‘Cabbages and potatoes are better for me and you. Don’t go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, and you’ll land in trouble too big for you.’ “

So now we know that Sam already has a taste for adventure, cultivated (sorry), if inadvertently, by Bilbo.

This is further developed in the next chapter—

“[Sam] believed that he had once seen an Elf in the woods, and still hoped to see more one day. Of all the legends that he had heard in his early years such fragments of tales and half-remembered stories about the Elves as the hobbits knew, had always moved him most deeply.” (The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 2, “The Shadow of the Past”)

And now the scene is set:

“Sam sat silent and said no more. He had a good deal to think about. For one thing, there was a lot to do up in the Bag End garden, and he would have a busy day tomorrow, if the weather cleared. The grass was growing fast. But Sam had more on his mind than gardening. After a while he sighed, and got up and went out.

…He walked home under the early stars through Hobbiton and up the Hill, whistling softly and thoughtfully.”

And here we even get the suggestion of a sound effect to come.

But there’s even more scene-setting:

“…It was over nine years since Frodo had seen or heard of [Gandalf]…But that evening, as Sam was walking home and twilight was fading, there came a once familiar tap on the study window.

…Next morning after a late breakfast, the wizard was sitting with Frodo by the open window of the study.

…There was another long silence. The sound of Sam Gamgee cutting the lawn came in from the garden.”

There is a puzzle here. Where were the lawn and garden of Bag End? Here are two images by Tolkien—the first from a distance,

the second close up,

but I can’t make out where those items are supposed to be. In the first, the road appears to run just below the house, with perhaps lawn and garden on the far side and down the hill? In the second image, there appears to be a bench (where Bilbo would have sat, smoking and reading his mail when Gandalf turned up in the first chapter of The Hobbit) and, to the right, some garden?

Let’s put this aside, however, to continue the action.

Gandalf has begun to talk about the Ring, and even closes the shutters and the curtains when he does so, but now the narrative inside and the action outside are about to be linked—as Gandalf begins to describe the search for Gollum—

“A heavy silence fell in the room. Frodo could hear his heart beating. Even outside everything seemed still. No sound of Sam’s shears could be heard.”

Sam is still at work, however, as—

“[Gandalf] went to the window and drew aside the curtains and the shutters. Sunlight streamed back into the room. Sam passed along the path outside whistling.”

But is Sam really occupied with grass-cutting?

“Suddenly [Gandalf] stopped as if listening. Frodo became aware that all was very quiet, inside and outside. Gandalf crept to one side of the window. Then with a dart he sprang to the sill, and thrust a long arm out and downwards. There was a squawk, and up came Sam Gamgee’s curly head hauled by one ear.”

(Robert Chronister—I can find a few paintings by him, but no website or further biographic material than that he was born in 1933.)

Sam tries to defend himself—

“ ‘…I was just trimming the grass-border under the window, if you follow me.’ He picked up his shears and exhibited them as evidence.”

When pressed, however, he confesses that he had been listening:

“…I heard a deal that I didn’t rightly understand, about and enemy, and rings, and Mr. Bilbo, sir, and dragons, and a fiery mountain, and—and Elves, sir. I listened because I couldn’t help myself, if you know what I mean. Lor bless me, sir, but I do love tales of that sort…Elves, sir! I would dearly love to see them. Couldn’t you take me to see Elves, sir, when you go?”

And here we see how all of this has been patiently laid out: the Gamgees and the Bagginses, the gardening, Sam and his interest—through Bilbo—in Elves and stories of adventure, Gandalf’s appearance and his narrative, which Sam overhears while gardening—and listening–only to be apprehended in his eavesdropping, with only one detail still needed and now mentioned:

“ ‘Get up, Sam!’ said Gandalf. ‘I have thought of something better than that. Something to shut your mouth, and punish you properly for listening. You shall go away with Mr. Frodo!’ “

After all of the careful plotting, Sam’s reaction is no wonder, then—

“ ‘Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!’ he shouted and then burst into tears.”

Elegant, and yet practical and completely convincing.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Stay well,

How is your garden doing?

And remember that, as ever, there’s

MTCIDC,

While working on this posting, I came across this very interesting and thoughtful piece: https://thoughtsontolkien.wordpress.com/2024/04/14/gardens-in-the-lord-of-the-rings/

Encouragement

04 Wednesday Mar 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Admiral Byng, badger, Candide, Chief of the Nazgul, Eowyn, Fantasy, Gandalf, Grima, grima-wormtongue, Helm's Deep, lotr, Pelennor Fields, pour-encourager-les-autres, Theoden, Tolkien, Voltaire

Welcome, as always, dear readers.

I almost feel like I should be delivering a parental warning before adding this terrible image.

This is the execution of a senior British naval officer, Admiral John Byng (1704-1757), by firing squad on the quarterdeck of HMS Monarch, 14 March, 1757, for what we might call “hesitation in the face of the enemy”. (For more on this, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Byng#Death_warrant )

Byng was, it would seem, a scapegoat for poor naval policy and government mismanagement of the war with France, and this provoked the French philosopher, dramatist, and satirist, Voltaire (Francois-Marie Arouet, 1694-1778),

who had a personal connection to Byng, to include his death in his satirical novel, Candide (1759).

(Because of its controversial nature, the novel was published outside France and, as you can see by this image of the title page of the first edition, not even under the author’s name—for more on this see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Candide )

In Chapter XXIII, entitled “Candide and Martin Land on the English Coast: What They See There”, we read a description of Byng’s execution—although Byng himself is never named, the victim simply being called “un Amiral”—“an admiral”. Puzzled as to what’s happening, Candide asks who the man is and why he’s being shot, the reply becoming a classic quotation: “Mais dans ce pays-ci il est bon de tuer de tems en tems un Amiral pour encourager les autres.”—“But in this country it’s good to kill an admiral, from time to time, in order to put heart in the others.”

This is obviously meant as a jab at what Voltaire thought of as the barbaric behavior of Britain towards a distinguished officer, but it made me think about that “putting heart” in a military context in The Lord of the Rings. Here, however, instead of focusing upon encouraging the leaders, as Voltaire has mockingly remarked, I want to examine how certain leaders try—or don’t try—to do the same for their followers, focusing upon two kings, Theoden

(Michael Kaluta—you can see more of his work here: https://www.kaluta.com/ )

and the chief of the Nazgul.

(Erin Kelso—you can see more of her work here: https://www.cuded.com/illustrations-by-erin-kelso/ )

Theoden, when we first meet him, has almost lapsed into senescence and certainly has developed a hostility towards those who were once his allies.

(the Hildebrandts)

“Slowly the old man rose to his feet, leaning heavily upon a short black staff with a handle of white bone…

‘I greet you…and maybe you look for welcome. But truth to tell your welcome is doubtful here, Master Gandalf. You have ever been a herald of woe. Troubles follow you like crows, and ever the oftener the worse. I will not deceive you: when I heard that Shadowfax had come back riderless, I rejoiced at the return of the horse, but still more at the lack of the rider…”

It soon turns out that this hostility—and, perhaps the senescence—are the work of Theoden’s counselor, Grima Wormtongue.

(Alan Lee)

“Wormtongue” would seem a strange epithet for a counselor, unless we remember Bilbo’s experience with Smaug, where, because of Smaug’s speech, Bilbo begins to question his trust in the dwarves: “That is the effect that dragon-talk has on the inexperienced.” (The Hobbit, Chapter 12, “Inside Information”) “Wormtongue”, then, can suggest persuasiveness—but maybe persuasiveness to be wary of, which is certainly the case here, where it’s clear that Grima is, in fact, behind Theoden’s look and behavior, and, freed from Grima by Gandalf, Theoden becomes a different man, taking Eomer’s sword and

“As his fingers took the hilt, it seemed to the watchers that firmness and strength returned to his thin arm. Suddenly he lifted the blade and swung it shimmering and whistling in the air. Then he gave a great cry. His voice rang clear as he chanted in the tongue of Rohan a call to arms.

‘Arise now, arise, Riders of Theoden!

Dire deeds awake, dark is it eastward.

Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded!

Forth Eorlingas!’ “

And here’s where the encouragement begins:

“The guards, thinking that they were summoned, sprang up the stair. They looked at their lord in amazement, and then as one man they drew their swords and laid them at his feet. ‘Command us!’ they said.

‘Westu Theoden hal!’ cried Eomer. ‘It is a joy to us to see you return into your own. Never again shall it be said, Gandalf, that you come only with grief!’ “ (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 6, “The King of the Golden Hall”)

The King’s sudden energy energizes his men, and that energy is mixed with a kind of fierce joy, which Theoden will soon need as it is learned that Saruman is directing an attack against Rohan. With the threat of being overwhelmed, Theoden and the others enter the stronghold of Helm’s Deep.

(JRRT)

There, with the threat of Saruman’s “blasting fire”, Theoden decides to make a sortie—that is, to make a mounted attack on the besieging forces outside the walls and here we see his determination—even if it’s of a grim variety:

“ ‘But I will not end here, taken like an old badger in a trap…When dawn comes, I will bid men sound Helm’s horn, and I will ride forth. Will you ride with me then, son of Arathorn? Maybe we shall cleave a road, or make such an end as will be worth a song—if any be left to sing of us hereafter.’ “

(In fact, badgers, when cornered, are very fierce, as I’m sure that JRRT was aware, seizing an opponent in a kind of death grip. For more, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Badger#Culling )

He then leads a charge of the traditional “hell for leather” sort, which JRRT would have known from such earlier historical events as the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava in October, 1854—

and, once again, we see a kind of fierce excitement which the King brings to his men.

“ ‘Helm! Helm!’ the Riders shouted. ‘Helm is arisen and comes back to war. Helm for Theoden King!’

And with that shout the king came. His horse was white as snow, golden was his shield, and his spear was long….Light sprang in the sky. Night departed.

‘Forth Eorlingas!’ With a cry and a great noise they charged. Down from the gates they roared, over the causeway they swept, and they drove through the hosts of Isengard as a wind among grass.” (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 7, “Helm’s Deep”)

(John Howe)

Theoden will repeat this at his final battle in the Pelennor Fields–

(Denis Gordeev)

“At that sound the bent shape of the king sprang suddenly erect. Tall and proud he seemed again and rising in his stirrups he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there had ever heard a mortal man achieve before:

‘Arise, arise, Riders of Theoden!

Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter!

spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered,

a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!

Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!’

Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them…And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the City.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 5, “The Ride of the Rohirrim”)

We can see now how Theoden’s encouragement works: he’s always in the lead and he has stirring words in poetic form to give heart to his followers.

In contrast, there is the chief of the Nazgul, once a king himself.

(Darrell K. Sweet—you can see more of his work here: https://blackgate.com/2022/04/17/an-adventure-to-be-had-a-journey-through-the-art-of-darrell-k-sweet/ )

Unlike Theoden, who has had a kind of rebirth, that chief is clearly one of the undead, a disturbing figure among a group of disturbing figures, as we hear in Grishnakh’s reaction—

“ ‘Nazgul, Nazgul,’ said Grishnakh, shivering and licking his lips, as if the word had a foul taste that he savoured painfully. ‘You speak of what is deep beyond the reach of your muddy dreams, Ugluk!’ “ (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 3, “The Uruk-hai”)

His method of leading is also disturbing—as an anonymous messenger says of him:

“ ‘But it is the Black Captain that defeats us. Few will stand and abide even the rumour of his coming. His own folk quail at him, and they would slay themselves at his bidding.’ “ (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 4, “The Siege of Gondor”)

To which we can add Gandalf’s description:

“…the Captain of Despair does not press forward yet. He rules rather according to the wisdom that you have just spoken, from the rear, driving his slaves in madness on before.’ “

Unlike Theoden, he has no poetry and virtually no words—certainly nothing encouraging. His only two speeches are full of contempt, addressed to Gandalf, at the ruined gate of Minas Tirith–The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 4, “The Siege of Gondor”—and to Eowyn—The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 6, “The Battle of the Pelennor Fields”, although before he sneers at Gandalf, he seems to chant a spell of some sort to help Grond destroy the gate—

“Then the Black Captain rose in his stirrups and cried aloud in a dreadful voice, speaking in some forgotten tongue words of power and terror to rend both heart and stone.

Thrice he cried. Thrice the great ram boomed. And suddenly upon the last stroke the Gate of Gondor broke. As if stricken by some blasting spell it burst asunder: there was a flash of searing lightning, and the doors tumbled in riven fragments to the ground.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 4, “The Siege of Gondor”)

It seems then, that, in contrast to Theoden, the chief of the Nazgul’s only method of encouragement is the very opposite of giving heart, being more like what Voltaire suggested was behind the execution of poor Admiral Byng: the desire to create fear. Does it work? Britain defeated France at sea, their greatest victory being at Quiberon Bay in 1759,

although Hawke, the British admiral there, had always been an aggressive and imaginative sailor (who had also testified against Byng) and would have needed no threat of court martial to spur him on.

With the aid of Fangorn,

(Alan Lee)

the Ents, and Gandalf, Theoden’s men destroy Saruman’s army at Helm’s Deep, and, with the aid of Aragorn, his men ruin Sauron’s plans for Gondor, which leads, with the destruction of the Ring, to the destruction of Sauron himself.

(Ted Nasmith)

The end of Sauron brought peace and a new Age to Middle-earth. War broke out again between Britain and France in 1778, which led to the loss of 13 of Britain’s North American colonies, and there was war with France again between 1793 and 1815. Granted that the wars of our Middle-earth are often larger and more long-lasting (no Ring to destroy Napoleon—although Britain, I’m sure, would have been glad of one) but, given the choice, I, for one, would rather follow Theoden than a Nazgul.

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Stay well,

When you think of Theoden, imagine this wonderful creation made from Legos,

And remember that, as ever, there’s

MTCIDC

For an English translation of Chapter 18 of Candide:

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/19942/19942-h/19942-h.htm#Page_122

For more about Voltaire and Admiral Byng: https://voltairefoundation.wordpress.com/2020/05/20/pour-encourager-les-autres-admiral-byng-voltaire-and-the-1756-battle-of-minorca/

doubtfulsea

~ adventure fantasy

Tag Archives: lotr

Capital R, Ring

Cap-a-Pie (2)

Solution (2)

Solution (1)

Prismatic

Towering.3

Gundulf

Saruman’s Sigh

Planting

Encouragement