LotR -- Book 3 - Chapter 01 - The Departure of Boromir

[mark12_30]

Another "trick" for making up songs on the spot is to use established patterns. Iin Homer's day, "Rosy Fingered Dawn" shows up more than once. I suspect that Lament for Boromir has some re-useable patterns in it, and the implication is that they might have come from previous dirges. Aragorn fought for both Rohan and Gondor ("Thorongil"...) and so has heard more than one lament in his day.

I also wonder-- with the Old English tendency to boast over a cup:

Ælfwine then said, he spoke with courage:
"Remember the times that we often spoke at mead,
when on the bench we raised up our boast,
saviors in hall, about hard battle;
Now may he who would be bold be tested.
( Battle of Maldon )

Perhaps did Aragorn, Gimli, and Boromir talk and jest about such things? How many Gondorian songs did Boromir sing between Rivendell and Parth Galen? And did those songs affect their lament for him?

And I wonder also-- did warriors jest about how they want to be remembered? Ever written your own epitaph, or what you wanted it to be, as an exercise? I can imagine warriors doing the same thing. (Especially after reading 'Battle of Maldon, ' where such things come up often )

[Boromir88]

Boromir's last words intrigue me.

"Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed."

What did Boromir fail? Fail to protect the hobbits? Failed to save his people, or both? This last part catches my attention.

[Lindolirian]

While it could mean both that he had failed to save his people and/or Merry and Pippin, I had always thought it could mean that he had failed the test of the temptation of the Ring. Gandalf did mention that Boromir repented before the end and that could easily be referring to:

I tried to take the Ring from Frodo. I am sorry. I have paid.

... but I also feel that his admitting his failure was a part of his repentance. What I find more interesting is the fact that Aragorn admits he fails right after Boromir repents. How much did Aragorn secretly depend on Boromir is something I've always wondered.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

One thing that intrigues me is the blowing of the horn of Boromir right on the bounds of old Gondor. Was Boromir unwittingly heralding the return of the King?

Or maybe he was just blowing the horn to call for aid: y'know, why he brought the horn in the first place.

I know. But I said "unwittingly".

Anywhen, another weird thing about the horn is that it was created right before the Stewards became the rulers of Gondor, and was destroyed right before their return to . . . well . . . Stewardship.

So, how ‘magical’ a place is Amon Hen - if even Aragorn only sees what any of us would expect to see what’s so special about the place to earn it its name? And how come Frodo sees so much - is it the power of the Ring? But that would mean that The Hill of Sight only deserved its name & reputation if the person using it had their vision magically enhanced. (davem)

I've been puzzling over this one, too, and came up with only one idea: Perhaps the hill itself was exhausted after the battle that took place there. But there might be other explanations.

[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.

[Boromir88]

Originally posted by Rimbaud:
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.

I'm sure people do have their own "thread" they tend to like more, as the book splits. From the Movie's I preferred Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas stories over the others, and now that I've seen the movie so many times, sometimes I fastforward through the parts that don't intrigue me as much. With the book, I've read it in whole a few times, but I will skip around to certain chapters that interest me, or where I need to try to find some answers . If there's a favorite thread for me to find in the book to follow, over the others, it would be Frodo and Sam. There interactions with Faramir were done much better, and of course we get Shelob. I will say though, I love all the seperate threads once the book breaks.

[mark12_30]

Amon Hen-- I don't think the hill wore out its magic. But anything supernatural takes participation to experience. If Ted Sandyman had stood on that hill, do you think he would have seen anything? I don't.

Even for those who are very capable-- it doesn't always come together. Think of the times when Gandalf's supernatural abilities are frustrated. He can't remember; or something blocks him; or he just makes a mistake, a bad choice, and his magic doesn't do him much good if he's in the wrong place. Isn't Gandalf supernatural? Of course he is. But it's like anything else; you're never 100% effective 100% of the time. It comes and goes, sometimes you're 'on', sometimes you're not.

An olympic athlete has to be in the right mental and physical "space" to give an olympic performance. Just being in the venue doesn't make you a winner. But being out of the venue doesn't help much if you want that medal.

Being on top of Amon Hen isn't an automatic visionary experience. But if you are seeking a vision, and you can have them, and you know what to do, or you are gifted in that area-- it might all come together, like it did for Frodo (who ran up there with no clear thoughts in mind and no expectations, hence, open to whatever he might see.) Or it might not come together at all, as when Aragorn ran up the hill, worried about the fellowship, frantically chasing Frodo, annoyed with Boromir, and wishing Gandalf was there to help. He saw nothing. Perhaps he was Meant to see nothing (there I go with capitals again) or perhaps he could have seen something if he was prepared and ready, and in the right emotional and mental and spiritual 'space'. He wasn't. He was half-frantic. No visionary 'gold medal' that day for Aragorn.

But:
-the olympic venue hadn't changed.
-Aragorn's heart does see and speak clearly later without the aid of Amon Hen.

Rimbaud-- my favorite thread(s) have changed many times over the past thirty years-- hmm, almost as often as I've switched 'favorite characters'.

[Bêthberry]

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.

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.

[Boromir88]

I like all your points Bethberry, I think that the plotting strategy is archetypal. You also bring up something which I've been saying for a while, but I think it's worth repeating...

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.

The bond between the "Fellowship" does break, and crash into failure. However, I love all the other "fellowships" that are "created." (Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli; Merry and Pippin; Frodo and Sam). Before this time, we could definately say that the Company got to know eachother, did forge a friendship. But the bond between them, to me, always seemed weak, because practically from day 1 everything that could go wrong, did go wrong (Caradhras, Moria, Boromir's arguments, Amon Hen). Because of these situations the Fellowship breaks. But look what springs out from it? The "Fellowships" that spring out from it, are much stronger. Frodo and Sam become practically best friends. Merry and Pippin were best friends from the start, but they too grow and mature. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, travel with eachother to the end. And a friendship between an Elf and Dwarf is created that has never been seen before.

I think comparing the original Fellowship, to the 3 new fellowships, I would have to say the original Fellowship's "friendships" were rather weak. They collapsed under pressure. Where if we look at some pressures these smaller Fellowships have to face, they are able to succeed. Helm's Deep, Shelob, Cirith Ungol (I love the moments with Sam and Frodo), Paths of the Dead, Isengard, Pelennor Fields. Which leads me to think that these smaller bonds, were stronger then the Fellowhsip of 9. Since they are able to get through the hard times, where the original Fellowship fell apart.