"Tom Hook" <***@hookwork.com> wrote:
<snip>
[a belated response to a point raised in this interesting subthread - which
was started by Tom's interesting post on letter 156]
Post by Tom HookThat it comes as a surprise when Gandalf re-appears argues for a minor
defect and perhaps even an implausible one as it comes almost as a
contrivance (deus ex machina?) but it is not a cheat.
Funnily enough, I always saw this return of Gandalf as _less_ of a deus ex
machina than the later one where Sam and Frodo are rescued by Gandalf and
the Eagles. When I first read LotR, I had read /The Hobbit/ and of course
recognised the symmetry (made explicit by Pippin at the Black Gate) of the
appearance of the Eagles. It was this that made the Eagles appearance seem
contrived to me - "oh, he (Tolkien) is just repeating what happened at the
Battle of the Five Armies" and then I carried on reading the story.
My reaction to the return of Gandalf must have been less memorable, because
I don't remember what it was! (If I'm totally honest, I probably don't
really remember my initial reaction to the appearance of the Eagles at the
Battle of the Morannon either - let's call that 'recollection' an educated
guess!) But I do remember, after the Moria chapters, not really believing
that Gandalf was dead. Even back then, on my initial readings, I had an
inkling that Gandalf was something special, and that we maybe hadn't seen
the last of him at the Bridge, or heard the last of him when Sam talked
about his fireworks, and when Aragorn, at Parth Galen, agonised over what
Gandalf's advice would have been.
I do remember though that Gandalf, on my initial readings, was one of my
favourite characters - the one whose dialogue I would endlessly read out
aloud; the character I instinctively knew was the prime mover of what was
going on; the one that everyone looked up to. And when he returned, as
Pippin said, he was even better than before, telling us more than he used to
and being even more authoritative. The scene in 'The White Rider' when
Gandalf is acknowledged by Aragorn as their captain and banner, who has been
through the fire and the abyss, is visceral in its appeal.
There are many other moments that follow as Gandalf the White stamps his
quiet (and sometimes not so quiet) authority on those around him in the
ensuing scenes - first in the Golden Hall, then in the throne room of Minas
Tirith, then in battle for the city, at the Last Debate, and at the scenes
before the Black Gate. I remember the thrill I felt near the end, at
Aragorn's coronation, when first Frodo, and then Gandalf bring the crown to
Aragorn, and Gandalf invokes the name of the Valar as he crowns Aragorn -
that frisson of excitement, even though I had no clue at the time who or
what the Valar were.
The final revelations come when Gandalf and Aragorn, from that hallow high
on the slopes of Mount Mindolluin, survey Aragorn's realm, and Gandalf
quietly says that he, Gandalf, was the Enemy of Sauron, and that this Third
Age has been _his_ age.
Post by Tom HookI say contrivance here because there is little in the reader's mind up to
that
point to accept such a change, a change described by Tolkien as happening
"at the turn of the tide". The transformation and return of Gandalf is the
pivot upon which the plot turns. A lot of new information about Gandalf is
thrown at the reader in "The White Rider", a reader one must assume who
has not read the appendices or any other works concerning the first and
second ages.
You are absolutely correct that a lot of this information isn't directly
there. But I think the atmosphere and tone of the writing succeeds in
transmitting the feel of the power of Gandalf the White, at least to readers
receptive to such things. And such a change, for want of a better phrase,
feels _right_ in Tolkien's world. It doesn't seem strange that powerful
beings can seemingly come back from the dead with enhanced powers. It
_could_ seem strange, but I think Tolkien manages (just) to make it seem
natural enough to not be too disjointed.
Turning from Gandalf, to another topic altogether, you mention Tolkien's use
of the phrase "turn of the tide". Tolkien's use of a 'tide' metaphor is very
interesting, and is indeed another topic altogether. Tolkien uses this
metaphor quite a lot, in battles mainly, but also in other places. I have a
feeling that such repetitive use has an important literary function. The
reader may not consciously register each instance, but I feel that
subconsciously, the repeated imagery is reinforced with each use of the
metaphor, and the overall impact is greater than the sum of its parts.
As early as 'The Council of Elrond', Boromir says:
"Mayhap the Sword-that-was-Broken may still stem the tide - if the hand that
wields it has inherited not an heirloom only, but the sinews of the Kings of
Men."
In 'The Mirror of Galadriel' chapter, Galadriel uses tide metaphors as well,
albeit in a different sense, that of fate rather than power struggles:
"In the morning you must depart for now we have chosen, and the tides of
fate are flowing."
Eomer repeats it again in 'The Riders of Rohan':
"The Heir of Elendil would be a strength indeed to the Sons of Eorl in this
evil tide"
And the Riders indeed overtake the 'Uruk-Hai' in that chapter:
"gaining on the Orcs, gaining on them like a tide over the flats on folk
straying in a quicksand"
Then we have the classic use by Gandalf, that you pointed out in 'The White
Rider':
"We meet again. At the turn of the tide. The great storm is coming, but the
tide has turned." [and later, concerning the anger of the Ents:] "it will
soon be running like a flood; but its tide is turned against Saruman and the
axes of Isengard."
Then at 'Helm's Deep':
"Hundreds and hundreds more [orcs] were pouring over the Dike and through
the breach. The dark tide flowed up to the walls from cliff to cliff"
And then Gandalf, having ridden on the wings of the storm, cries aloud to
the gate guards of Minas Tirith:
"Whatever betide, you have come to the end of the Gondor that you have
known. Let me pass!"
Here, betide is an archaic word meaning "comes to pass", but the
associations with the ebb and flow of a tide would make for an interesting
etymological discussion.
Hirgon, delivering grim news and the Red Arrow to Theoden, says in 'The
Muster of Rohan':
"For it is before the walls of Minas Tirith that the doom of our time will
be decided, and if the tide be not stemmed there, then it will flow over all
the fair fields of Rohan, and even in this Hold among the hills there shall
be no refuge."
When, in response to this plea from Gondor, the Riders of Rohan arrive at
the Fields of Pelennor, we are told:
"Now silently the host of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor,
pouring in slowly but steadily, like the rising tide through breaches in a
dike that men have thought secure." [and later] "gathering speed like a
great tide their battle swept about their fallen king and passed, roaring
away southwards" [and later still] "But the hosts of Mordor were seized with
bewilderment [...] the tides of fate had turned against them and their doom
was at hand"
[Note the use of fate again here, as in Galadriel's example. The next
example is also, arguably, a use of the word tide in the sense of fate.]
At the end of the battle, Aragorn says:
"Behold the Sun setting in a great fire! It is a sign of the end and fall of
many things, and a change in the tides of the world."
[ie. a change in the fates of the world]
Earlier, at Pelargir:
"the Shadow Host that had hung back at the last came up like a grey tide,
sweeping all away before it"
And at the Last Debate, Imrahil and Gandalf use the metaphor again:
"...would have us retreat to Minas Tirith, or Dol Amroth, or to Dunharrow,
and there sit like children on sand-castles when the tide is flowing?" ...
"Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world"
[ie. to master all the fates of the world]
Aragorn bids Merry farewell:
"you will come also to a last stand, either here or wherever the black tide
overtakes you. Farewell!"
And then at the Morannon:
"The onslaught of Mordor broke like a wave on the beleaguered hills, voices
roaring like a tide amid the wreck and crash of arms."
Individually, all these instances are powerful enough, but I contend that,
taken together, subconsciously, or even consciously, registered by the
reader of the book, the continual reinforcement of this tide metaphor
extends throughout the book, and has an even more powerful collective
effect. Indeed, this argument could be extended to cover other instances of
repeated use of the same metaphor, theme, trope, motif, or whatever. To make
it even more interesting, there is a fate connotation being mixed up here in
several of the tide metaphors.
Maybe, when reading out favourite passages, we are subconsciously recalling
the other instances in the text where similar language is used, and a
literary resonance effect is being produced?
Yeah. I have no idea what a "literary resonance effect" is either. :-) Maybe
I need to find the right terminology, but does anyone recognise the feeling
I am describing?
Christopher