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Originally Posted by Rimbaud
I think the other area of major interest in this chapter is that, post-Breaking, the book now neatly divides itself. The reader becomes aware instantly with Book III that the thick main narrative strand of FotR cannot easily be recaptured, as the book splits in these opening chapters into the three strands. This is easy symbolism to understand, and the reader is left hoping that the strands will reunite, for closure and catharsis.
The other point on these natural schisms is JRRT's choice of which strand to start with in Book III. In terms of action, and emotive force, the scene of Boromir's death has the most impact, yet is that the author's sole reason to open with it?
On a more personal note, when stories split like this, do you have a favoured strand, and read a little impatiently through the others, until you return to the strand you have the most interest in? This question probably only applies to your first reading.
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A good interjection into this on-going Boromir-fest,
Rim, and one that properly asks us to think about story.
I would not want to push this comparison too far, but in some ways the plotting strategy seems almost archetypal in some ways. Not in terms of major narrative structure or mythology, but similar in a poignant way to the patterns of many people's lives.
I think, for instance, that the time of most intense friendship is that moment (or those long years) when people are negotiating the transition between adolescence and adulthood. Whether it is high school (which for some is hell I know) or the years of first employment or university, this is the time when interests are explored, relationships forged, paths determined, promises made. At least I think in North America the desire for a community of close and intense friendships is played out over and over in television dramas, whether in Cheers or Friends, or... well, you pick the show.
Then, something happens. Adulthood intervenes, in the shape of work and career. Demands upon time, energy, and attention increase. Bonds of personal relationship take over from the group allegiance. (I know that when I first started dating my future husband, my friends in grad school wondered where I went. They saw me with this guy, who they named "Art" after Art Garfunkle, because they hadn't met him yet; it would be six months before they did.) Then, for others, family responsibilities come along and replace the intensity of friendship. Night after night of nursing a sick child do not make for party animals.
Something else splinters the old cusp friendships. Some of the gang don't make it. My cousin died at 21 in a car crash. My husband's best buddy died in a motorcycle crash. One summer, three kids on a school outing drowned. The good die young, it used to be said. Then, there seems to be a lull, and people don't start disappearing again until the transition to middle age. But the teen or early adulthood years always claim some one or two in the group.
Part of the idyllic moment of LotR for me is the forging of the Fellowship, the eagerness of Merry and Pippin to follow Frodo and Sam. And Sam's utter devotion to Frodo. And the excitement of Rivendell with Aragorn and Boromir, and an elf and a dwarf, joining the group. The horizon expands. They have little idea what they will face, but they pledge to face it together.
Then this bond breaks. One doesn't make it. Two leave the others behind to complete their lonely quest. The other younger kids, Merry and Pippin, are abducted. Those who make the transition to adult responsibility, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, find their rightful place in fulfilling their duty. As
Rimbaud says, we do hope for "closure and catharsis", some kind of return.
I certainly wouldn't push this idea of an archetype of the journey through adolescense to adulthood. And I don't mean to suggest that it was 'deliberate' on Tolkien's part. But something about the trajectory of the story follows a pattern of relationship. Maybe we are always wanting to recapture that spring of intense friendships before life gets in the way of life. And maybe we are also wanting to seek out our own journeys beyond those days, whether it is the personal quest or the public one.
Not on first read any more , Rim, but I do have a preferred quest. The bleak, agonising one.