[Lalwendë]

We might think Anduril is ‘just’ a sword but in this chapter we see it presented heroically, in terms of what it symbolises, and also in terms of its heritage and nobility. In the previous chapter, Aragorn is told to leave it outside Meduseld as Theoden will not have weapons carried in his hall by visitors. In Aragorn’s refusal more is displayed than simply his inexperience in matters of diplomacy; his obstinacy also displays the symbolic significance of Anduril, not just to Aragorn, but to Middle Earth as a whole.

The full significance of the weapon becomes apparent in this chapter:

Anduril rose and fell, gleaming with white fire. A shout went up from wall and tower: 'Anduril! Anduril goes to war. The Blade that was Broken shines again!"

Does Anduril really glow with white fire? Does the blade contain the divinity of Light? Is it a metaphor for the speed and agility with which Aragorn wields the sword? Or is it a metaphor for the beauty and precision apparent from the craft involved in making the blade? Certainly, its reputation has preceded it; it is easy to imagine Hama talking to the other men about how the blade was left outside the Meduseld doors and his excited talk as he describes it to his comrades, much as military men today might talk reverently about a new plane.

But the cries of the men as Anduril is wielded also reveal their hope, perhaps that a ‘hero’ of old has returned, certainly that the heroism of old has returned:

The men of Rohan grew weary. All their arrows were spent, and every shaft was shot; their swords were notched, and their shields were riven. Three times Aragorn and Eomer rallied them, and three times Anduril flamed in a desperate charge that drove the enemy from the wall.

The above passage is interesting as the efforts of Aragorn are mentioned separately to the efforts of Anduril. This quite definitely places the weapon in the area of myth, bringing to mind the way that King Arthur is always mentioned with Excalibur; the sword is not a mere part of his kit, it is something which he has access to, as though his possession of the blade infuses him with a far greater strength. Historically, the wealthiest swordsmen would have blades tailored to their needs, as the weight and balance of a sword in comparison to the person using it is vital, so strength and skill would be the result of a tailored blade, but the inherent myth of a weapon is also important. If it has a ‘myth’ attached, the mere sight of such a blade can cause psychological harm to the enemy:

A broad stairway climbed from the Deep up to the Rock and the rear-gate of the Hornburg. Near the bottom stood Aragorn. In his hand still Anduril gleamed, and the terror of the sword for a while held back the enemy, as one by one all who could gain the stair passed up towards the gate.

This quite intense chapter includes descriptions of the physical fighting, the battle strategies, and the heroism of individuals, but Tolkien has also imbued it with a sense of the mythic. The idea of Excalibur is something of an archetype to us, and we recognise instantly what it means for a man to wield a blade with a history, and we can accept that he who wields it will have the strength to fight against what seem to be insurmountable odds. Tolkien takes care to mention how the arrows of the men have been depleted (unlike in films where the supply seems magically endless) and he makes sure we can see that the odds are very definitely against those we are 'rooting for', and it is against this background that the archetype of Anduril stands out, and also that acts of heroism can be seen in stark contrast to the bleak prospects.