Prismatic

20 Monday Jul 2026

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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/

Eavesdropping

25 Wednesday Feb 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

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Bilbo, Denethor, Fantasy, Grima, lotr, Palantir, psychology, Sam Gamgee, Saruman, Sauron, Smaug, Tolkien

Welcome, dear readers, as always.

Where are “eaves” anyway, and why would you drop from them?

On a modern roof, they look like this—

If you lived in the mid-15^th century, when the expression “eavesdropper” first appears, it might look like this—that’s the overhang of the thatched roof–

As Etymonline will be happy to tell you,“eaves” is from Old English “efes”, the “overhang of a roof”, plus “dropa”, “a drop (as of rain)”, so “that area of the roof from which the rain drips”. (For more, see: https://www.etymonline.com/word/eavesdrop )

The idea, then, is that, if you wanted to listen in on an indoor conversation, you might climb on a roof, hang your head over the side, and follow someone speaking below, say at an open window—rather as Sam Gamgee does, although he does so less precariously—

(Robert Chronister)

In our modern world, more than once, I’ve found myself doing this—and probably you have, too–although inadvertently, as someone nearby has been bellowing into his/her cellphone while sitting or standing near you.

Unless the person at the other end is bellowing, too, you don’t hear that end of the conversation, only the local speaker, but it might be an interesting experiment, perhaps, to see what you could reconstruct from this end and, in this posting, I want to try to do that–not with a cellphone, but with a rather older device, a palantir,

(Angus McBride)

and the person we’ll be eavesdropping on isn’t that loud person on the bus, but the Steward of Gondor, Denethor.

(Alan Lee)

Initially, we don’t know that Denethor has one, of course, although we receive hints in the text—

“ ‘Yea,’ he [Denethor] said; ‘for though the Stones be lost, they say, still the lords of Gondor have keener sight than lesser men…’ “

“ ‘And the Lord Denethor is unlike other men: he sees far. Some say that as he sits alone in his high chamber in the Tower at night, and bends his thought this way and that, he can read somewhat of the future, and that he will at times search even the mind of the Enemy, wrestling with him.’ “ (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 1, “Minas Tirith”)

“But he [Denethor] himself went up alone into the secret room under the summit of the Tower; and many who looked up thither at that time saw a pale light that gleamed and flickered from the narrow windows for a while, and then flashed and went out.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 4, “The Siege of Gondor”)

It’s only at Denethor’s end that we see what gleamed and flickered and with what, as Beregond says, he “wrestles” with the Enemy—

(Robert Chronister)

“Then suddenly Denethor laughed. He stood up tall and proud again, and stepping swifly back to the table he lifted from it the pillow on which his head had lain. Then coming to the doorway he drew aside the covering, and lo! he had between his hands a palantir. As he held it up, it seemed to those that looked on that the globe began to glow with an inner flame, so that the lean face of the Lord was lit as with a red fire.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 7, “The Pyre of Denethor”)

We don’t, unfortunately, have record of either end of the conversations which Denethor has had, but we know one thing: these were not happy chats—Beregond says, continuing the description above—“And so it is that he is old, worn before his time.”

And it’s not hard to guess another: at the far end of the connection is Sauron, as Gandalf explains to Pippin:

“ ‘Who knows where the lost Stones of Arnor and Gondor now lie buried, or drowned deep? But one at least Sauron must have obtained and mastered to his purposes. I guess that it was the Ithil-stone, for he took Minas Ithil long ago and turned it into an evil place: Minas Morgul, it has become.’ “

We can also guess what has happened to Denethor—exactly what happened to Saruman:

(the Hildebrandts)

“ ‘…yet it seems that he was not content. Further and further abroad he gazed, until he cast his gaze upon Barad-dur. Then he was caught!…Easy it is now to guess how quickly the roving eye of Saruman was trapped and held; and how ever since he has been persuaded from afar, and daunted when persuasion would not serve…How long, I wonder, has he been constrained to come often to his glass for inspection and instruction, and the Orthanc-stone so bent towards Barad-dur that, if any save a will of adamant now looks into it, it will bear his mind and sight swiftly thither?’ “ (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 11, “The Palantir”)

The power of the voice is a strong theme, both in The Hobbit, where we see that Smaug

(JRRT)

can begin to damage Bilbo’s trust in the dwarves with a few words, and in The Lord of the Rings, Saruman’s spy, Grima,

(Alan Lee)

can actually prematurely age Theoden with his talk, sowing, as well, distrust of allies.

Perhaps the most powerful voice is that of Saruman himself, as Gandalf warns Pippin:

“ ‘But there is no knowing what he can do, or may choose to try. A wild beast cornered is not safe to approach. And Saruman has powers you do not guess. Beware of his voice!’ “

(Carl Lundgren)

One example will underline Gandalf’s warning:

“ ‘But my lord of Rohan, am I to be called a murderer, because valiant men have fallen in battle? If you go to war, needlessly, for I did not desire it, then men will be slain…I say, Theoden King: shall we have peace and friendship, you and I? It is ours to command.’ ”

Saruman’s words are simply lies: he began the war when his Orcs marched against Rohan and attacked Helm’s Deep, but his power is as dangerous as Gandalf has warned:

“For many the sound of the voice alone was enough to hold them enthralled; but for those whom it conquered the spell endured when they were away, and ever they heard that soft voice whispering and urging them. But none were unmoved; none rejected its pleas and its commands without an effort of mind and will, so long as its master had control of it.” (The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 10, “The Voice of Saruman”)

The few words we actually hear from Sauron are brief questions and commands, but, at least initially, these wouldn’t have come to control as powerful a personality as Denethor, so I’m imagining something more like Saruman, but, judging from Denethor’s reactions to others, this included the kind of undermining which Smaug and Grima practice.

(This is medieval undermining, and shows one of two possibilities. The first is to dig all the way under a castle wall and burst out suddenly behind the defenders. The second, shown here, is to dig under the way, replace the foundations with wooden props, then set fire to the props in hopes that, without them, the wall will crumble. The illustration is from the site “Classroom Adventures” and I recommend the essay which is attached to the illustration as a very useful way of getting up to speed on how medieval sieges—like that of Minas Tirith—were conducted: https://www.classroomadventures.co.uk/post/under-siege-a-history-of-siege-weaponshttps://www.classroomadventures.co.uk/post/under-siege-a-history-of-siege-weapons )

This posting had a different title, when I began it: “Sauron Psychologist” and, in Denethor’s reactions, it would appear that Denethor has been attacked on two main fronts: jealousy and insecurity, suggesting that, in his conversations with the Steward, Sauron has learned just where Denethor’s psychological vulnerabilities lie.

Although Denethor favors Boromir, he seems more than a little anxious at Faramir’s attraction to Gandalf, as Denethor says bitterly:

“ ‘See, you have spoken skillfully, as ever; but I, have I not seen your eyes fixed on Mithrandir, seeking whether you said well or too much? He has long had your heart in his keeping…For Boromir was loyal to me and no wizard’s pupil.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 4, “The Siege of Gondor”)

Sauron also appears to have worked to undermine Denethor’s understanding of his role in Gondor. He is, after all, not the King, but the King’s lieutenant. His family has ruled in place of the King for so long, however, that Denethor seems—I think that we can assume with Sauron’s encouragement– to have made the assumption that he is the King:

“ ‘I will not step down to be the dotard chamberlain of an upstart. Even were his claim proved to me, still he comes but of the line of Isildur. I will not bow to such a one, last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship and dignity.’ “

And I would suggest that, just as Gandalf, long before, has said that the beginning of Saruman’s attempt to persuade him in Orthanc had seemed “as if he were making a speech long rehearsed”, so Denethor’s reply to Gandalf’s question “What then would you have…if your will could have its way?” has that same ring, and is just as false:

“ ‘I would have things as they were in all the days of my life…and in the days of my longfathers before: to be the Lord of this City in peace, and leave my chair to a son after me, who would be his own master and no wizard’s pupil. But if doom denies this to me, then I will have naught: neither life diminished, nor love halved, nor honour abated.’ “(The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 7, “The Pyre of Denethor”)

Without Sauron’s actual words, this can only be a guess, but I wonder if, behind all of this is Sauron’s “whispering and urging”, saying things like: “You once had two sons, but your favorite died on a mission which failed, and the other is no longer yours, is he? A wizard’s pupil now, and you fear, but know, this. And will the pupil ever become master, or will his master become master of all? Without the interference of wizards, we could have had peace, you and I—it was in our power—two wise rulers sharing Middle-earth—I the East, you the West, for no King would ever return—should ever return—to take your place, in Gondor. But now”—and here I switch from my text to JRRT’s–‘For a little space you may triumph on the field, for a day. But against the Power that now arises there is no victory. To this City only the first finger of its hand has yet been stretched. All the East is moving. And even now the wind of thy hope cheats thee and wafts up the Anduin a fleet with black sails. The West has failed. It is time for all to depart who would not be slaves.’ “

Smaug ultimately didn’t convince Bilbo. Gandalf freed Theoden from Grima’s attempt at senescence. Theoden’s mockery of Saruman broke the spell of Saruman’s voice. But there was no rescue for Denethor:

“Then Denethor leaped upon the table; and standing there wreathed in fire and smoke he took up the staff of his stewardship and broke it on his knee. Casting the pieces into the blaze he bowed and laid himself on the table, clasping the palantir with both hands upon his breast. And it was said that ever after, if any man looked in that Stone, unless he had a great strength of will to turn it to other purpose, he saw only two aged hands withering in flame.” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 7, “The Pyre of Denethor”)

Thanks, as always, for reading.

Stay well,

Noise-canceling earphones definitely have their merits,

But avoid crystal balls at all costs,

Though remembering that, as always, there’s

MTCIDC

Do You Speak Villain? (Part 3)

18 Wednesday Feb 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

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books, Fantasy, Gorbag, Grishnakh, lotr, Orcs, Saruman, Sauron, sergeant, sergeants, Shagrat, soldiers, speech, The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien, Ugluk

As always, welcome, dear readers.

In Parts 1 and 2 of this short series, I’ve looked at Tolkien’s use of speech to characterize—and bring to life—the antagonists of The Lord of the Rings, leaving out Sauron, as having little to say for himself, but observing Saruman,

(the Hildebrandts)

the chief of the Nazgul,

(the Hildebrandts)

and the Mouth of Sauron.

(Douglas Beekman)

I’ve been doing this as a descent down the social ladder and now we’ve reached the foot with the Orcs.

(Alan Lee)

JRRT had very complex thoughts and feelings about them, as his letters show us (see, for instance, some of his thoughts in his unfinished, unsent letter to Peter Hastings, September, 1954, Letters, 285 and 291) but then the Orcs themselves seem more complex than mere (in more modern terms) “cannon-fodder”—that is, a simple mass of undifferentiated infantry.

(Alan Lee)

Something which has always struck me about them is Tolkien’s choices for their speech. At one level, as I pointed out in “Tolkien Among the Indians”, (21 January, 2026), one of their leaders, Ugluk, can sound like a figure out of James Fenimore Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans—

“ ‘We are the fighting Uruk-hai! We slew the great warrior. We took the prisoners. We are the servants of Saruman the Wise, the White Hand: the Hand that gives us man’s-flesh to eat. We came out of Isengard, and led you here, and we shall lead you back by the way we choose. I am Ugluk. I have spoken.’ ”

On another level—but here I want to quote another of Tolkien’s letters, one often cited when referring to Sam Gamgee:

“My ‘Sam Gamgee’ is indeed, as you say, a reflexion of the English Soldier, of the privates and batmen [officers’ servants, not denizens of Gotham] I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.” (draft of a letter to H. Cotton Minchin, April, 1956, Letters, 358)

and obviously Tolkien knew what he intended, but I’ve always seen those “privates and batmen” as something more: as models for the Orcs—

and their commanders, Ugluk and Grishnakh—and later Shagrat and Gorbag—not as of the officer class, to which Tolkien belonged—

but as sergeants, the tough, experienced men who ran the infantry on a day-to-day basis.

Here they are, talking—

“ ‘Orders,’ said a third voice in a deep growl. ‘Kill all but NOT the Halflings; they are to be brought back ALIVE as quickly as possible. That’s my orders.’

“ ‘What are they wanted for?’ asked several voices. ‘Why alive? Do they give good sport?’

‘No! I heard that one of them has got something, something that’s wanted for the War, some Elvish plot or other. Anyway they’ll both be questioned.’

‘Is that all you know? Why don’t we search them and find out? We might find something that we could use ourselves.’

‘That is a very interesting remark,’ sneered a voice, softer than the others but more evil. ‘I may have to report that. The prisoners are NOT to be searched or plundered: those are my orders.’

‘And mine too,’ said the deep voice. ‘Alive and as captured, no spoiling. That’s my orders.’ “

So far, those two main voices—the “deep growl” and the “softer…but more evil”–are just that: voices. And we can tell immediately that they, being the ones given orders and threatening to make reports, are in charge. Shortly, we’ll find that the deep voice belongs to ”a large black Orc, probably Ugluk” and the softer to Grishnakh, “a short, crook-legged creature, very broad and with long arms that hung almost to the ground.”

Why sergeants, not officers? It’s the tone, I think. When Grishnakh proposes taking the prisoners to the east bank of the Anduin, where a Nazgul is waiting, Ugluk replies

“ ‘Maybe, maybe! Then you’ll fly off with our prisoners, and get the pay and praise in Lugburz, and leave us to foot it as best we can through the Horse-country.’ “

“pay and praise” and “footing it” sound to me more like the language of soldiers than those of higher ranks, but there’s something more to their talk. Ugluk sneers at the Nazgul and Grishnakh replies:

There is a fear in this that’s a little surprising: aren’t the Nazgul on the same side as Grishnakh, at least?

There is a rivalry between the two groups as well—and clearly even between their two masters, as Grishnakh reveals:

“ ‘You have spoken more than enough, Ugluk,’ sneered the evil voice. ‘I wonder how they would like it in Lugburz…They might ask where his strange ideas came from. Did they come from Saruman, perhaps? Who does he think he is, setting up on his own with his filthy white badges? They might agree with me, with Grishnakh their trusted messenger; and I Grishnakh say this: Saruman is a fool, and a dirty treacherous fool.’ “ (all of the text here is from The Two Towers, Book Three, Chapter 3, “The Uruk-hai”)

All of this shows a level of internal tension which would not bode well for an alliance between Sauron and Saruman and, when we reach Shagrat and Gorbag, later in the story, there’s even something more and we’ve already seen it in that “We might find something that we can use ourselves.”

So far, the speech of the two Orc leaders has suggested creatures who clearly don’t trust each other, and one is fearful of something on his own side, revealing, as well, that his master, Sauron, is less than impressed by Saruman and his efforts.

And now we find that such sergeants may not even trust their men, as when Shagrat says to Gorbag:

“ ‘…but they’ve got eyes and ears everywhere; some among my lot, as like as not.’ “

But why such wariness? First, because these Orcs are aware that knowledge of the progress of the war in which they’re a part is being kept from them, and it’s not good news:

“ ‘…they’re troubled about something. The Nazgul down below are, by your account; and Lugburz is too. Something nearly slipped…As I said, the Big Bosses, ay,’ his voice sank almost to a whisper, ‘ay, even the Biggest, can make mistakes. Something nearly slipped, you say. I say, something has slipped.’ “

And second because these Orcs, not trusting their masters and perhaps even fearful of them, may have plans of their own—

“ ‘What d’you say?—if we get a chance, you and me’ll slip off and set up somewhere on our own with a few trusty lads, somwhere where there’s good loot nice and handy, and no big bosses.’

‘Ah!’ said Shagrat. ‘Like old times!’ “ (The Two Towers, Book Four, Chapter 10, “The Choices of Master Samwise”)

As we’ll see, however, later in the story, Shagrat and Gorbag don’t even trust each other—

“Quick as a snake, Shagrat slipped aside, twisted round, and drove his knife into his enemy’s throat.

‘Got you, Gorbag!’ he cried. ‘Not quite dead, eh? Well, I’ll finish my job now.’ He sprang on to the fallen body, and stamped and trampled it in his fury, stooping now and again to stab and slash it with his knife.“ (The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 1, “The Tower of Cirith Ungol”)

So much for “old times”! But a fitting ending for this posting. Here, on the lowest rung of the social ladder, we see how JRRT shows both the threat of the enemies’ soldiers and, at the same time, undercuts that threat, as we hear the Orcs doing everything from threatening each other, dissing their own leaders and those of their own side, mistrusting each other and their own men, and even plotting to desert and set up their own little kingdoms before cheerfully knifing each other. We might wonder—even if Sauron had won, how long would his empire have lasted, with such allies and underlings?

Thanks, as ever, for reading.

Stay well,

I guess that I don’t have to tell you now: watch your back,

And remember that there’s

MTCIDC

For more on Orcs and their language, see “Lingua Orca”, 16 April, 2025.

Do You Speak Villain? (2)

11 Wednesday Feb 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

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dialogue, Fantasy, lotr, Mouth of Sauron, Nazgul, Saruman, The Lord of the Rings, thou-vs-you, Tolkien, villain, Witch-King of Angmar

Welcome, dear readers, as always.

It is sometimes surprising to see how social class can influence vocabulary. For instance–

this is a Roman villa—

in Pompeii, where wealthy city people might live.

And this is a country villa—

(Billl Donohoe)

which, in its more elaborate form, might offer some of the comforts of a city dwelling, but would often also be a working farm and here are a couple

of Roman farm workers (probably slaves), each of whom, as someone attached to a villa, could be called a villanus—and I’m sure that you see where this is going: rural people could be uncultivated (no pun, there) and therefore crude and, by a snobbish leap of imagination from 12^th-century Old French to mid-16^th century English, people who could be expected to be involved in the worst antisocial behavior: crime. (For more on this, see: https://www.etymonline.com/word/villain )

In the previous posting, we began examining Tolkien’s villains in The Lord of the Rings, and how Tolkien, with his wonderful ear for language (and a great dramatic gift), used speech to depict their characters, as well as their behavior.

Since Sauron provides such a small sample of speech, we began with Saruman,

(the Hildebrandts)

who, as reported by Gandalf in Book One, could be by turns, sarcastic, conspiratorial, falsely chummy, and coldly imperious, all the while, though only at first obliquely, attempting to persuade Gandalf to reveal to him the location of The Ring and, in doing so, revealing to Gandalf not only his corrupt ambition, but also his lack of awareness of how much that corruption came from his communication with Mordor.

(the Hildebrandts)

In this posting, I want to continue that examination by extending it down the social scale of villains, beginning with the Nazgul, who, as former kings, might be thought of as next after Saruman.

(Mark Ferrari—new to me, but I like the energy of this and you can see more at: https://www.markferrari.com/image-archives )

On the whole, unlike Saruman, who gives away so much in his speech, they don’t have much to say for themselves, but their leader, the Witch-king of Angmar,

(Angus McBride)

has two bits of dialogue: first, when he encounters Gandalf at the broken gate of Minas Tirith,

(Ted Nasmith)

where he speaks briefly in a threat:

“ ‘Old fool!’ he said. ‘Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!’” (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 4, “The Siege of Gondor”)

This only shows his (misplaced) contempt for Gandalf, but he addresses Gandalf as an equal in using “you”, rather than as an inferior, as when he confronts Eowyn:

“ ‘Come not between the Nazgul and his prey!’ “

The Witch-king is ancient—being from the Second Age of Middle-earth—and therefore we might expect his speech to sound archaic, even if here he uses the Common Speech of everyone else we see in The Lord of the Rings, and we see it here with this inverted construction. If it were a person from the present, we might expect “Don’t come” or perhaps “Don’t you come”, but “Come not” immediately suggests a speaker from an earlier time.

He continues:

“ ‘Or he will not slay thee in thy turn.’ “

And note here the archaic “thee” (the accusative/dative/ablative of “thou”), which serves a double purpose: on the one hand, suggesting the Witch-king’s great age and, on the other, this is how a superior would speak to an inferior (as in the case of the Romance languages—where French even has verbs for using “you” vs “thou”—vouvoyer vs tutoyer).

And continues:

“He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye.’ “ (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 6, “The Battle of the Pelennor Fields”)

The Witch-king persists in his use of “thou”, but then becomes what I feel is quite Biblical in “the houses of lamentation”—where is this place? My immediate thought was that it was the same place where Gollum was tortured (we get a hint of this in Gandalf’s long explanation in The Fellowship of the Ring, Book One, Chapter 2, “The Shadow of the Past”) and where the Mouth of Sauron suggests that Frodo was taken (The Return of the King, Book Five, Chapter 10, “The Black Gate Opens”). As to its name, I was reminded of “The Book of Lamentations” in the Judeo-Christian Bible, a collection of laments over the fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonians in 587/6BC.

(James Tissot, 1836-1902—actually Jacques Joseph Tissot, a very interesting late-Victorian French artist who did much of his later work in England, where he—or his name, at least—became Anglicized. You can read about him and his art here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Tissot )

Sections of “Lamentations” are read during Lent, in Christian services, and we can assume that JRRT, as a practicing Catholic, was well aware of the book. (You can read more about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Lamentations )

Wherever the idea came from, the Witch-king continues it in an extremely graphic manner, repeating his use of “thou” to the end of his threat, at the same time.

We see this use of “thou” once more from another on that social scale, the Mouth of Sauron.

(Douglas Beekman—you can read a little more about him here: https://www.askart.com/bio/Doug_L_Beekman/122294/Doug_L_Beekman )

This is, again, an ancient figure, as we’re told that “…he was a renegade, who came of the race of those that are named the Black Numenoreans”—that is, followers of Sauron in the Second Age—and he begins as Saruman began, with contempt—

“ ‘Is there anyone in this rout with authority to treat with me?’ “

“Rout” is an archaic word for “rabble”, so the Mouth is already suggesting that, in comparison with him, there is no one of stature with whom he could speak. And he goes on—

“ ‘Or indeed with wit to understand me?’ “

He’s establishing his bargaining position here: he’s of higher social standing and smarter than anyone he faces and he continues, addressing Aragorn:

“ ‘It needs more to make a king than a piece of Elvish glass, or a rabble such as this, Why, another brigand of the hills can show as good a following!’ “

So far, then, the Mouth shows arrogance—but his next behavior shows that, underneath that arrogance is cowardice—

“Aragorn said naught in answer, but he took the other’s eye and held it, and for a moment they strove thus; but soon, though Aragorn did not stir or move hand to weapon, the other quailed and gave back as if menaced by a blow. ‘I am a herald and ambassador, and may not be assailed!’ he cried.”

(And this is where Jackson’s portrayal in the film version of the scene fails completely, as Aragorn then cuts him down, which no respectable king—or even knight—would do, as the Mouth is correct in that heralds and ambassadors, traditionally, could claim immunity.)

Gandalf reassures him, although he also cautions him that that immunity might not last forever, before the Mouth continues:

“ ‘So!’ said the Messenger. ‘Then thou art the spokesman, old grey-beard?’ “

This is insulting in several ways: first, that use of “thou”, as though to an inferior; second, as the Mouth clearly recognizes Aragorn, so he would recognize Gandalf, and calling him “old grey-beard” has the same effect as when the Witch-king earlier called him “old fool”.

He then indirectly admits that he does, indeed, recognize Gandalf:

“ ‘Have we not heard of thee at whiles, and of thy wanderings, ever hatching plots and mischief at a safe distance? But this time thou hast stuck out thy nose too far, Master Gandalf, and thou shalt see what comes to him who sets his foolish webs before the feet of Sauron the Great.’ “

Vocabulary is key here: “wanderings”, “hatching plots and mischief”, sticking out “thy nose”, “foolish webs”, all suggest denigration, keeping with the Mouth’s original address, which painted the Gondorians and their allies as a mob of bandits, with no legitimacy to address the Messenger of Sauron, or even the IQ to do so.

Pippin recognizing Frodo’s mithril coat gives the Mouth the chance to continue that denigration, calling Pippin “imp” and “brat” and calling the Shire “little rat-land”, before going on to name the conditions Sauron demands, both for the return of Frodo and for “peace” between him and the allies, conditions which are simply surrender in other terms.

So far, by his very language, the Mouth has attempted to dictate the scenario, using “we” as if it were Sauron himself speaking, attempting to suggest that Sauron is the master of the situation and that he, as Sauron’s spokesman, is in sole charge of the parley, but it’s interesting to see how he responds when spoken to in the same way by Gandalf, who has revealed his own power, pulling the mithril coat and others of Frodo’s possessions from the Mouth’s hands.

“ ‘…Get you gone, for your embassy is over and death is near to you. We did not come here to waste words in treating with Sauron, faithless and accursed; still less with one of his slaves. Begone!’ “

The Mouth’s reaction is the very opposite of his original self-depiction at the beginning of the parley: instead of mocking and presenting himself as above the level of those on the other side, he is literally speechless—and more than mute, being likened to a beast with no ability to communicate at all:

“Then the Messenger laughed no more. His face was twisted with amazement and anger to the likeness of some wild beast that, as it crouches on its prey, is smitten on the muzzle with a stinging rod. Rage filled him and his mouth slavered, and shapeless sounds of fury came strangling from his throat.” (The Return of the King, Book Six, Chapter 10, “The Black Gate Opens”)

So, the Mouth is dropped into the Animal Kingdom by Gandalf’s words (and notice that archaic “Get you gone!”—the archaism we hear from the Witch-king seems to be catching) and, in the third part of the posting, we’ll drop lower in the social scale, as well.

Stay well,

Imagine how useful “thou” and “thee” might be in English today,

And remember that, as ever, there’s

MTCIDC

PS I recently happened upon a very useful article on illustrating Tolkien which I want to pass on to you here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illustrating_Middle-earth I love looking at all of the different ways in which artists, all the way back to the 1960s, imagine Tolkien’s work.

Do You Speak Villain? (Part 1)

04 Wednesday Feb 2026

Posted by Ollamh in Uncategorized

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Fantasy, Gandalf, lotr, rhetoric, Saruman, Sauron, speaking villain, The Lord of the Rings, The Ring, Tolkien

As ever, welcome, dear readers.

How do antagonists talk?

If you do a quick search of the internet for discussion on creating villains, you can be almost overwhelmed with all the advice you find. Much is about behavior, but one important point which I’ve seen more than once (I’m quoting here from Gillian Adams’ website) is to avoid: “1. Grandiose Speeches”. (For more of her list, see: https://gillianbronteadams.com/2011/12/villainy-101/ ) Such speeches can easily lead to what beginning writers are often warned against and which is commonly called an “information dump”, where an author employs that grandiose speech to fill in a great deal of plot—often criticized as lazy writing.

Tolkien was certainly, if anything, not a lazy writer and I thought that it would be fun to look at the speech not of one antagonist, but of several, in The Lord of the Rings to see how he portrays their dialogue and, through it, them.

Sauron, the chief antagonist, although he presents the main difficulty in the story has, unfortunately, few lines—just questions and imperatives—but then he’s only an eye—

although I suppose we could take that brevity as implying that, as a character, he is nothing but a strong will, used to making demands on all those around him and expecting instant obedience.

So let’s begin with his (although he doesn’t know it) minion, Saruman—

(the Hildebrandts)

as initially reported by Gandalf.

Saruman, although, through Radagast the Brown, has sent for Gandalf, is hardly welcoming:

“ ‘So you have come, Gandalf…For aid? It has seldom been heard of that Gandalf the Grey sought for aid, one so cunning, so wise, wandering about the lands, and concerning himself in every business, whether it belongs to him or not.’”

This leads him to continue:

“ ‘How long, I wonder, have you concealed from me, the head of the Council, a matter of greatest import? What brings you now from your lurking-place in the Shire?’ ”

So, we hear sarcasm,–“so cunning, so wise” and “lurking-place”–but then there’s something more—and it seems characteristic of Saruman that this villain, at least, can be quite roundabout in coming to the point—the real point—of his invitation. But then we’re shown something which begins to look like he’s launching into the Grandiose–

“ He drew himself up then and began to declaim, as if he were giving a speech long rehearsed“ Gandalf begins—and notice that we’re being given stage directions, providing us with an idea not only of Saruman’s posture, but of his tone—this is an oration, not an intimate conversation:

“ ‘The Elder Days are gone. The Middle Days are passing. The Younger Days are beginning. The time of the Elves is over, but our time is at hand: the world of Men, which we must rule. But we must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that the good which only the Wise, can see.’ “

Here, in true oratorical fashion, Saruman provides a preface: three grand ages—and note, as well, that rhetorical pattern of three—of which the first is gone, the second about to be gone, and the third just coming into being. And then he begins to come to his point—but only begins: “the world of Men, which we must rule.” Upon which he then expands: “But we must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see.”

So far, then, this definitely might seem like it was leaning towards the Grandiose—although JRRT has already suggested that Gandalf is aware of that lean by having him say that Saruman seems not to be speaking naturally, but declaiming. At the same time, however, we can also see that, although Saruman’s subject is power, he suggests that Gandalf is his natural confederate in gaining it, attempting flattery—“…we must have power, power to order all things as we will…’ ” and that “we” are the [capital W] Wise.

From declamation, Saruman slips into the more conversational—really conspiratorial—tone:

“ ‘And listen, Gandalf, my old friend and helper!’ he said, [and another stage direction here] coming near and speaking now in a softer voice, ‘I said we, for we it may be, if you will join with me.’ “

From a history lesson, Saruman has quickly exposed his real theme, and he continues:

“ ‘A new Power is rising. Against it the old allies and policies will not avail us at all. There is no hope left in Elves or dying Numenor.’ “

So—not even men—after all, Numenorians—or, rather the descendants of the Numenorians—are men—are enough, and the Elves are just about out of the picture, meaning that, potentially, not only is there no hope left in either of them, but no hope left at all—but hope of what, Saruman has not yet said. He’s about to hint at it, however, continuing his roundabout method:

“ ‘This then is one choice left before you, before us. We may join with that Power. It would be wise, Gandalf. There is hope that way. Its victory is at hand; and there will be rich reward for those that aided it.’ “

Still not saying what that hope might be of—until

“ ‘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.’ “

Saruman’s hope, then, is that he—uh, they—although unable to resist that Power (as Saruman persists in capitalizing it), can come to be its directors—

“ ‘We can bide our time, we can keep our thoughts in our hearts, deploring maybe evils done by the way…’ “

And now, discarding rhetoric, Saruman has begun to reveal himself: once sent by the Valar as a counterbalance to Sauron, to gain his own power, Saruman is willing to act like the very one he was sent against—or worse:

“ ‘…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.’ “

If the Valar had meant the Maiar, the Wizards, to oppose Sauron, their purpose was certainly not to gain abstractions like “Knowledge, Rule, Order” (which sounds like something from Orwell’s 1984) and Saruman gives away his own “high and ultimate purpose” in this and underlines it with:

“ ‘There need not be, there would not be, any real change in our designs, only in our means.’ “

Tolkien so far, then, has shown Saruman through his speech as sarcastic, then pompous, acting like a public orator in front of a crowd, although speaking only to Gandalf—then sly, attempting to flatter by suggesting that:

1. Gandalf is his “old friend and helper”

2. and that, if Gandalf goes along, he, too, will be one of “the Wise”

as well as glossing over what Gandalf might object to—“deploring maybe evils done by the way”, to achieve goals which seem the very opposite of that of the Valar—“Knowledge, Rule, Order”, and continuing that slyness by not defining any of those, simply implying that Gandalf must already not only understand them, but have already been a partner in working towards them in the past—although we notice that, although he’s called Gandalf “his old friend”, he has added “and helper”, reducing Gandalf to a subordinate position with that one word.

Still, Saruman continues to be oblique—he talks about the Power, talks about somehow coming to manage and direct it although never suggesting how, but, when Gandalf objects, he comes a little closer to the point—with more stage directions: “drew himself up”, “speaking now in a softer voice”,

“He looked at me sidelong, and paused a while considering. ‘Well, I see that this wise course does not commend itself to you…Not yet? Not if some better way can be contrived?’

He came and laid his long hand on my arm. [Think here about Saruman’s badge—on the shields and helmets of his orcs]

“ ‘And why not, Gandalf?’ he whispered. ‘Why not? The Ruling Ring?’ “

And now we come to the real reason for Saruman’s invitation:

“ ‘If we could command that, then the Power would pass to us. That is in truth why I brought you here. For I have many eyes in my service, and I believe that you know where this precious [from Saruman’s badge to Gollum with one word!]

(Alan Lee)

thing now lies. Is it not so? Or why do the Nine ask for the Shire, and what is your business there?’ “

So, so far, we’ve seen Saruman’s speech as sarcastic, pompous/declamatory, sly, and whispering/conspiratorial, but, when Gandalf once more rejects his approach, he takes on one more tone–menace:

“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, so saving yourself much trouble and pain. The third choice is to stay here, until the 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.’ “

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

What has happened to “my old friend and helper”? and “the Power would pass to us”? Now it’s “I gave you the chance of aiding me” and someone wants to become “the Ruler”. Although Tolkien has provided us with a certain number of physical clues, as in“laid his long hand on my arm”, it’s in his manner of speaking and how it changes throughout the scene that we see Saruman, once the Head of the Maiar, become “Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colours!”, traitor to the good people of Middle-earth, far from his original mission, and ultimately not “the Ruler” he foolishly assumes that he will be, with or without Gandalf.

In Part 2, we’ll move from this greater villain to much lesser ones, to see what their speech tells us about them.

As always, thanks for reading.

Stay well,

Beware of people who call you “my old friend”, and then threaten you,

And remember that, as always, there’s

MTCIDC

For more on Saruman’s manner of speaking—in his second appearance, when he’s a prisoner in his own tower—see: “By Ear (2)”, 14 May, 2025.

doubtfulsea

~ adventure fantasy

Tag Archives: lotr

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Do You Speak Villain? (Part 3)

Do You Speak Villain? (2)

Do You Speak Villain? (Part 1)