LotR -- Book 2 - Chapter 01 - Many Meetings

[davem]

To what extent is Frodo's time in Rivendell similar to Niggle's in the workhouse? Both periods take place in a post 'death' state, & both result in the hero ultimately leaving & going beyond the limits of the physical world (the 'Mountains' or the 'Sea'). Rivendell would work for me in that role - the place of preparation for the task ahead, the creation of Niggle's Parish,or the destruction of the Ring - though of course in a sense the whole of Frodo's journey is his 'workhouse'.

On Aiwendil's point about the Earendel verse in LotR not being the final version (it misses out a verse on the attack by the Sons of Feanor on the Havens of Sirion, among other things) :

(From the start of stanza 4:
In might the Feanorians
That swore the unforgotten oath
Brought war into Arvernien
with burning & with broken troth;
And Elwing from her fastness dim
then cast her in the waters wide
but like a mew was swiftly borne
uplifted o'er the roaring tide.
Through hopeless night she came to him,
And flame was in the darkness lit
(etc)

& just as an aside, in the new anniversary edition of LotR out in October/November, we are told that it will be the edition that JRRT originally envisioned (it will contain the pages for the Book of Mazarbul which Tolkien drew but which weren't included for cost reasons), & CT has supervised it. Now, as CT has pointed out a number of these 'errors' in the published version of LotR, I wonder if we'll see these verses included, & what would the general reaction be to that? This perhaps belongs in the Canonicity thread, as if CT did make such changes, would they be 'canonical' or not? Is even the inclusion of the pictures acceptable, as Tolkien didn't authorise this edition?

Originally Posted by Encaitare

Well, at least Bilbo didn't exactly go rabid like he did in the movie! But this does show what a great hold the Ring still has on him, and here we see echoes of Gollum. This is one of the first points at which Frodo actually understands what terrible powers the Ring has, for here he sees it at work on one of the people closest to him.

I always felt this was Frodo's perception of Bilbo, rather than something that happened to him, & can't help but wonder to what extent he was seeing Bilbo as Sauron would have seen him - seeing Bilbo, the person he loves most in the world as 'a little wrinkled creature with a hungry face and bony groping hands' who he feels a desire to strike.' seems somehow deeply out of character for Frodo - so out of character that its one of the most shocking events in the story for me. this perverted vision, this desire to use violence - after Gandalf has told him he's safe in Rivendell, no evil in Rivendell, eh? We see, perhaps, a glimpse of another Frodo, filled with contempt & violence for others, & perhaps also a glimpse of what the 'Eye' sees when it looks at others.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Aiwendil, I too noticed the similarity of the two poems "Ëarendil was a mariner" and "Errantry", which also has a mariner as its main protagonist. Since I didn't know which one was written first, I wondered if "Errantry" was perhaps his own parody, but your comment answers that question. Thanks! I may come back with a closer look at comparing the two if I have time this week.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Hmmm…I appear to have a slightly different view of this chapter than some. Yes, I see that this chapter is one of the refuges in the refuge-danger cycle of the narrative, but I don’t see it as a pause in the action, nor as a moment in which Frodo makes any grand kind of transition between starkly opposed realms (life/death, mundane/faerie). What I thin is happening here is that Frodo is continuing his journey toward a fuller awareness of the world around him – of both the light and dark.

The chapter is full of moments in which the nature of things is revealed. The brilliance of the chapter is that nothing ‘new’ is really learned (that is for the masterpiece ‘Council of Elrond’ coming next week *pant pant*); instead, we & Frodo learn more about things we are already familiar with.

It is, fittingly, Gandalf who kicks off the chapter’s ambivalent exploration of reality with his mysterious return, and equally mysterious refusal to explain why. We learn from him that:

‘There are many powers in the world, for good or evil. Some are greater than I am.’ … The Morgul-lord and his Black Riders have come forth. War is preparing! … for the Black Riders are the Ringwraiths, the Nine Servants of the Lord of the Rings.’

A lot is happening in this brief passage. First, we learn that the world is full of good and evil that is stronger than Gandalf, so we are treated to equal parts hope and despair, and given a look into the future and the moment at which those forces will meet when Frodo is a the Crack of Doom. We learn that all out war is preparing – something we’ve not heard of until this point – and the identity of the Black Riders. It’s interesting that the Riders do not become any more frightening by the knowledge, but it’s significant that the first thing Frodo learns in the House of Elrond, loremaster, counsel giver, is the identity of the creatures that have been attempting to destroy him, and that their appearance heralds an all-out war! Finally, it’s here in the ‘refuge’ of Rivendel that Frodo first hears the appelation “Lord of the Rings”.

But the light is revealed, as is the dark. Gandalf goes on to explain who Glorfindel is and that because of Elves like him

‘there is a power in Rivendell to withstand the might of Mordor, for a while: and elsewhere other powers still dwell. There is power too, of another kind, in the Shire.’

So it’s not just that Frodo is moving from one world into another, but into a perspective from which he can see the world more clearly, in all of its power for good and evil: Mordor, Imladris, ‘other powers’ (Lorien? The Ents? Eru?) and – most significantly – the Shire is included in this list. Frodo is not moving beyond his realm into others, but learning that his world is as much a hidden power as any in Middle-Earth, so he is growing in apprehension, I think, rather than from one ‘self’ to another.

The rest of the chapter works through a number of such apprehensions as Frodo begins to see the world and the people in it in a whole new way. Aragorn looks like a person transformed at the banquet, thanks to his presence near Arwen, who is herself a revelation of the full reality of M-E, in all it’s glory and sadness: “the likeness of Luthien had come on earth again: and she was called Undómiel, for she was the Evenstar of her people.”

We are then treated to the poem in the Hall of Fire (which I love, and thanks Aiwendil for your perceptive comments), in which the full beauty of the world is revealed fully to Frodo, immediately followed by Bilbo’s ‘transformation’ in which the full ugliness of the world is rather forcefully brought home to him. It’s almost as though poor old Frodo is stuck between two ways of looking at the world, here in Rivendell. On the one hand, is the way he looks at Arwen at the banquet, in which Frodo is almost able to have Elvish eyes onto the beauty, power and majesty of existence – tinged with sadness though it may be, it is wonderful; on the other hand, he is able to ‘see’ the Nine for what they really are, and Bilbo looks like Gollum to him. This is the conflict that will begin to consume him as he travels (hope and despair?).

The chapter ends with a great little bit of foreshadowing though, in which we look ahead to get a hint of how this tension might be resolved for Frodo, finally:

then suddenly it seemed to Frodo that Arwen turned towards him, and the light of her eyes fell on him from afar and pierced his heart.

Even though he will never be able to heal from the Morgul blade that tried to “pierce his heart”, this piercing by Arwen will grant him healing and comfort from that wound – and the others that his journey will give him – in the West.

[Hookbill the Goomba]

Expanding a little on the things Fordim just said (posted), it is here that we begin to see more clearly Tolkien’s use of the Hobbits as the ignorant party. In a mythology such as this there always has to be an ignorant party to ask the questions that the readers are asking, thus it helps to get things explained. With out them there would not be a lot that people would understand, else Tolkien would have to paddedd a lot of it out with explanations.

This is especially so in the counsel of Elrond and ever after. I belive that this is also one of the reasons that Gandalf took Pippin to Minas Tirith, Tolkien knew he needed someone to be asking questions about the city and its culture so that the reader did not have to.
Well, that what I think anyway.

[davem]

Originally Posted by Estelyn

Since I didn't know which one was written first, I wondered if "Errantry" was perhaps his own parody, but your comment answers that question. Thanks! I may come back with a closer look at comparing the two if I have time this week.

CT goes into the history of this poem in some depth in vol 7. Errantry came first & was published in The Oxford magazine on 9th Novenber 1933. Tolkien said in Letter 133 that the poem was

in a metre I invented (depending on trisyllabic assonances or near assonances, which is so difficult that except in this one example I have never been able to use it again - it just blew out in a single impulse

CT quotes Carpenter's remark in Letters:

It may appear at a first glance that Tolkien did write another poem in this metre, 'Earendil was a mariner', which appears in Book II Chapter 1 of The Lord of the rings. But this poem is arguably a development of 'Errantry' rather than a seperate composition.

CT then states 'That this is true will be seen from the earlier forms of Bilbo's song at Rivendell', which he then gives.

One other thing struck me as odd in this chapter - Gandalf's remark:

(Speaking to himself about Frodo's current state)But to the wizard's eye there was a faint change, just a hint as it were of transparency, about him, & especially about the left hand that lay upon the coverlet.

'Still that must be expected' said Gandalf to himself. 'He is not half through yet, & to what he will come in the end not even Elrond can foretell. Not to evil, I think. He may become like a glass filled with a clear light for eyes to see that can'

'Not half through yet' - what can Gandalf mean? Does he know that Frodo will take up the task? It seems like on some level Gandalf 'knows' what Frodo's destiny will be, that he knows what Frodo's choice as regards the Ring will be, even before Frodo does himself. Of course, it could be that while Frodo has 'talked long in his sleep' he has spoken of this, or perhaps Gandalf knows that Frodo will not be able to hand the Ring over (perhaps he has read between the lines & seen how much of a hold the Ring already has over Frodo). It just seems mysterious that Gandalf knows that Frodo has a long journey before him, & so the question arises as to the degree of free will Frodo actually has in all this.

[Bêthberry]

Estelyn wrote:

This chapter is the account of one single day, told completely from Frodo's point of view.

davem wrote:

its difficult to even stay awake - one is constantly drifting into dreams.

Aiwendil wrote:

What comes across very strongly here is milieu - the feeling of Rivendell (that is, the feeling of Faerie) is perfectly captured.

Fordim wrote:

This chapter is full of moments in which the nature of things is revealed.

These ideas all dance around a particularly elvish object in this chapter. Point of view, dreaming, Faerie, apprehension/revelation--these observations all come together, it seems to me, in the final subject of this chapter, Bilbo's song of Eärendil. We have spoken here of the "objective facts" of the poem--its metre and rhyme scheme, its derivation and publishing history, its imperfect form (as reproduced here)--but we have not considered what the poem or its rendition by Bilbo tells us about experiencing this piece of literature. There is a small tale here about interpretation.

What is it that Sam tells Frodo about Rivendell, this place of Faerie? He says, and he speaks of the house, but house is often a metaphor for literature:

"It's a big house this, and very peculiar. Always a bit more to discover, and no knowing what you'll find round a corner."

Like good gothic art, Rivendell seems to provide the experience of the unexpected rather than the fulfillment of what is expected. Frodo's vision of Bilbo as seen through the Ring is one example, as is Frodo's shockingly violent response to the gollem-like vision. And powerful this vision is too, for it halts the music around them, which resumes once Frodo puts the Ring away, "leaving hardly a shred of memory." Not all perceptions stay with us, some are lost, our apprehensions are neither linear nor cummulative.

Bilbo, however, understands. To Frodo he says,

Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story.

This remark seems to me to suggest the very nature of Tolkien's art, still to sing on. The remark is all the more remarkable for the event which intrudes upon the storytelling which ensues. Sam. Frodo and Bilbo are interrupted in their reveries about the Four Farthings by the arrival, at first unnoticed, of The Dúnadan, yet another name for Strider.

And what does Strider do upon this entrance? Bilbo calls to him for help finishing his song. At the very moment (or time) when the two are collaborating over the song, though, Frodo's apprehension moves away from them. We are never given the scene of their discussions; what does follow is an extraordinary description of the effect of elven music upon Frodo. The actual composition itself is represented in the text by a gap, an absence. And it is reported on only in retrospect.

Bilbo speaks

"I want your help in something urgent. Elrond says this song of mine is to be finished before the end of the evening, and I am stuck. Let's go off into a corner and polish it up!"

Strider smiled. "Come then!" he said. "Let me hear it."

Frodo was left to himself for a while, for Sam had fallen asleep. He was alone and felt rather forlorn, although all about him the folk of Rivendell were gathered. But those near him were silent, intent upon the music of the voices and the instruments, and they gave no heed to anything else. Frodo began to listen.

At first the beauty of the melodies and of the interwoven words in elven-tongues, even though he understood them little, held him in a spell, as soon as he began to attend to them. Almost it seemed that the words took shape, and visions of far lands and bright things that he had never yet imagined opened out before him; and the firelit hall became like a golden mist above seas of foam that sighed upon the margins of the world. Then the enchantment became more and more dreamlike, until he felt that an endless river of swelling gold and silver was flowing over him, too multitudinous for its pattern to be comprehended; it became part of the throbbing air about him, and it drenched and drowned him. Swiftly he sank under its shining weight into a deep realm of sleep.

There he wandered long in a dream of music that turned into running water, and then suddenly into a voice. It seemed to be the voice of Bilbo chanting verse.

I cannot think of anything else in Middle earth which evokes so magically the experience of imagination. Dream, water and voice. It is the slowly returning recognition of something known and remembered which draws Frodo out of the dream into awareness of the song. And when Bilbo finishes, we are in the midst of an elven audience. Bear with a longish quotation again, my friends.

"Now we had better have it again," said an Elf.

Bilbo got up and bowed. "I am flattered, Lindir," he said. "But it would be too tiring to repeat it all."

"Not too tiring for you," the Elves answered laughing. "You know you are never tired of reciting your own verses. But really we cannot answer your question at one hearing."

Now, the attentive reader might be caught up short and sharp. What question had Bilbo asked? Turn back the several pages, past the song itself, and we cannot find Bilbo's question to the elves. We, the reader, have been lost, as it were, with Frodo in his dreaming sleep. Yet what an extraodinary way to show that other things were occuring.

And what are those other things? A question of authorship, if you please.

"What!" cried Bilbo. "You can't tell which parts were mine, and which were the Dúnadan's?"

"It is not easy for us to tell the difference between two mortals,' said the Elf.

And thence ensues the jokes about the elven disinterest in other things: "But Mortals have not been our study. We have other business."

Bilbo leaves the elves to guess and turns with his question to Frodo, who declines. Bilbo explains the authorship as follows:

As a matter of fact it was all mne. Except that Aragorn insisted on my putting in a green stone. He seemed to think it important. I don't know why. Otherwise he obviously thought the whole thing above my head....

"I don't know," said Frodo. "It seemed to me to fit somehow, toughI can't explain. I was half asleep when you began, and it seemed to follow on from something that I was dreaming about. I didn't understand that it was really you speaking until near the end.

And here my long post about the delightful play on authorship and art ends as well. I find the passage intriguing for its sense of the multiplicity of sensations which it ascribes to the experience of the Hall of Fire. There is nothing linear here or necessarily objective or empirical. Rather, it evokes the experience of art--or at least elven art, assuming we will grant to Bilbo the accolade of calling his song elven. Or perhaps we are meant to think that polyphonous experience applies to Mortal art as well.

Aside: Encaitare, my 'thesis' here did not allow for any mention of your point on the colour green, which I think was a helpful reservation about interpreting colour symbolism, although davem's wonderful examples provide an astonishing wealth to contemplate.

[davem]

Frodo was now safe in the Last Homely House east of the Sea. That house was, as bilbo had long ago reported, 'a perfect house, whether you like food, or sleep, or story-telling or singing, or just sitting & thinkking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all'. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear, & sadness

So, is Rivendell Tolkien's own ideal place, the place he wished had existed in this world, where he could go & 'finish his book'?

It seems to me that it was the place he wanted most to exist out of all the places he invented - all the realms & palaces. Its really Mar Vanwa Tyalieva, the Cottage of Lost Play from the Lost Tales in another form. But what does it tell us about him? I can easily see Tolkien, like Bilbo, more at home in Rivendell, than in Oxford or Bag End, & certainly more than in Gondolin or even Rivendell. Actually I could see myself being more at home there than any other place, real or fictional. It seems a place where learning is dominant, where in some sense history is alive, & those who had lived through the great events of history were stilll around to speak to was Tolkien's 'Earthly Paradise'.

Its the 'Last Homely House east of the Sea, ie this side of Death, & we know that in an early draft it was intended that Bilbo should die there, & not make the Journey into the West. I think its significant that that its in many ways the ultimate 'home' - the heimat, even more so than the Shire in many ways - at least for Tolkien.

I have to say that my image of it is not at all like the movie version - I always think of it as being like one of the Swiss houses he would have seen on his trip to Switzerland, white walled, timbered, shutters on the windows, much simpler than the 'elven palace' the movie gives us - which hardly what I'd call 'homely'. I see roaring fires, wooden bowls, a very 'rustic' place all together (& I'm not sure cuckoo clocks would be out of place!).

I can't think of a more Middle-earthly place (apart from the view from the summit of Weathertop!).