LotR -- Book 2 - Chapter 01 - Many Meetings

[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!).

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

I have been following the comments on the color green in these threads, with some degree of interest. I have long been fond of the hue, and if pressed might just declare it my favorite, so I am finding it rather amusing to discover all the associations and symbolism it brings up. On that note I am finding it rather odd that it should be somehow connected with death, for to my mind, it is invariably connected to verdant growth and life, and standing for obvious reasons for nature. But perhaps I am misunderstanding. I can see that the faerie world and perhaps a sort of earth-based magic conceivably fit this color. Even the sickly greens reminiscent of rot and disease, as discussed in the Fog on the Barrow Downs thread, could in their own right be associated with corrupted form of nature rather than say a spirit world.

So Frodo’s being arrayed in green did not strike me as otherworldly. Especially, taking into consideration it is a favorite color of the hobbits as well. But it does seem striking that so much is made of the color. Aragorn is also dressed in green if you recall, and he insisted Bilbo mention the green stone in his poem. It does appear to be a color of some significance. And if it does represent, for instance, his moving on to a different mindset, I think we can say it is a mindset that Aragorn already possesses.

Also mentioned before, I think, but amusing to note once again, is how similar hobbits and elves are in that they only seem interested in the things that concern their people directly, as expressed by Lindir and Gildor. As I write this I am realizing that my feeble judgement rests solely on the comments of two elves! Mercy me! Still, it makes me smile.

The mention of Balin almost passes by unnoticed, in the stream of dwarven names. But it is interesting to see Tolkien tying the events in Moria.

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…

Yes, davem. I agree completely! Something more is afoot in this passage. And I seriously doubt that there was any real change in either Bilbo or his behavior.

[Lalwendë]

Hilde - I too would not associate it with death, but like davem says in his first post on this thread, I'd also associate green with the 'otherworld'. I think it does have some sinister undertones (no pun intended) as a colour, due to this association; it's considered unlucky to wear green at a wedding or to dress a child in green, and witches traditionally have green eyes. I do like the way that elves and hobbits seem to have such a fondness for the colour, as it lends a mystical air to think of someone slipping through woodlands, cloaked in green.

The meeting between Bilbo and Frodo where Bilbo asks to see the ring reminds me of a father and son, wary of one another and Bilbo's words after the ring has been put away are touching. He feels regret that his heir, a hobbit who is very much like his own son, has in effect been 'signed up' for war.

One thing struck me the very first time I read this, and that was the appearance of Aragorn standing beside Arwen - here was the rough ranger dressed in kingly fashion, and although the text is very subtle, it was something of a revelation to me exactly why they were standing together, and the image made a big impression on me at that age. I still like these sentences, as Tolkien managed to express their relationship delicately but powerfully in just these few lines. Quite the opposite to the movie.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Yes, 'other world' but not 'netherworld', I suppose. And I certainly hope the association of green with death and witches derives from the faerie tradition and not the other way round! But at this gathering, Frodo has become recognized as part of the history of Middle-earth, and his simpler life has died. So in some respect, I see these green garments as a symbolic of his new, vital role in history.

It is strange too, how Frodo, when talking with Gandalf about encountering the Witch King, says that it was good he didn't know exactly what the effect of the knife would be, or he would have been too scared to move. Yet as we will see, now that he does know the sort of things he is up against, he volunteers to continue. I wonder if he really was made of sterner stuff than he thought, or whether it was a function of this life long wound. Are some of his actions at this stage to be attributed to the pull of the ring, or rather his close call with becoming a wraith himself?

They tried to pierce your heart with a Morgul-knife which remains in the wound.

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

These two lines also caught my attention, like bookends. But it is interesting that Tolkien has the light of Arwen’s eyes and not simply her gaze itself effectively pierce Frodo's heart. Earlier, he mentions that thought and knowledge were in her glance, but the light of the stars were in her eyes.

[Lhunardawen]

Finally reaching Strider and the hobbits' first destination, I felt a sigh of relief escaping my lips. Never mind whatever is happening in the world outside nor what danger is yet to come; in this place there is peace, there is healing, and there are Elves, sir!

I was as joyful as Frodo probably was upon again seeing Gandalf. But when he said

At the moment I will only say that I was held captive

I was disheartened. He was depicted in the previous chapters as a powerful person, and this created doubt. It made me wonder what other dangers are in the world. The Nazgul were scary enough. Is there actually something, or someone, worse?

The way Elrond was mentioned by Gandalf made him seem like he was under the authority of the Halfelf. Honestly, I thought that Elrond was a killjoy, an "old maid" what with all his orders. I knew it was all for Frodo's welfare, but after all he's been through, maybe he would cut him some slack.

I agree with Frodo with this:

Thank goodness I did not realize the horrible danger! I was mortally afraid, of course; but if I had known more, I should not have dared even to move. It is a marvel that I escaped!

Hopelessness would have paralyzed him, even with the presence of Strider and Glorfindel, knowing how powerful his enemies are and what the consequences of his being caught will be. Thank goodness indeed!

Moving into the latter part of the chapter, I saw another reason for Aragorn's swoon-worthiness.

They were so deep in the doings of the Four Farthings that they did not notice the arrival of a man clad in a dark green cloth. For many minutes he stood looking down at them with a smile.

It was a simple smile, yes, but it touched my heart so: the thought of a kingly man being so concerned with the little hobbits! He even gave his time to help Bilbo with his song--time he could have instead spent with his beloved Arwen (if daddy agrees ), as he was not able to before because of the arrival of Elladan and Elrohir (her brothers, incidentally).

The latter deed concerning Elladan and Elrohir made me realize the sacrifices he has to make for his love for Arwen. I see it this way: the pressing news brought by Elladan and Elrohir concerns, more likely than not, the War of the Ring. And as Elrond said in the Appendix (forgive me, Esty) that he would not let his daughter marry someone less then the King of Gondor or something like that, Aragorn had to put matters related to this first. So instead of spending only a short time with Arwen, as he could have done in this chapter, he chose to do something that (hopefully) in the end would lead to him being with her for the rest of their lives. Swoon!

[Guinevere]

*Trying to catch up* It was very interesting to read all your posts and as usual I learnt a lot..
I didn't know that the colour green was associated with Faeries, and hitherto the mention of the new green clothes for Frodo had quite escaped my attention. (For me green just stood for nature and life and hope."Grün ist die Hoffnung" as we say in German)

I love Gandalf's cryptic remark about Frodo

"He may become like a glass filled with a clear light for eyes to see that can".

I think it refers somehow to Frodo's spiritual growth. Much later on their journey it is stated that Sam can see that light:

Then as he kept watch, Sam had noticed that at times a light seemed to be shining faintly within; but now the light was even clearer and stronger. Frodo’s face was peaceful, the marks of fear and care had left it; but it looked old, old and beautiful, as if the chiselling of the shaping years was now revealed in many fine lines that had before been hidden; though the identity of the face was not changed. Not that Sam put it that way to himself. He shook his head, as if finding words useless, and murmured: „I love him. He’s like that, and sometimes it shines through, somehow. But I love him, whether or no.“

I think Faramir can see it too.
And the picture of the glass filled with clear light somehow reminds me of Galadriel's phial.

That moment when Sam comes in I find particularly touching:

He ran to Frodo and took his left hand, awkwardly and shyly. He stroked it gently and then he blushed and turned hastily away.

Sam is very fond of his master and adores him. His joy at finding him well overwhelms him, yet he is afraid to show his feelings, he probably thinks that as a servant he isn’t entitled to act like that..

I love the description of the Elves and their music. Its effect on Frodo reminded me of what Tolkien wrote about the elvish craft, enchantment in „On Fairy-Stories“

To find Bilbo in Rivendell was a big surprise for Frodo. Though Gandalf, Aragorn and Gildor knew all along that Bilbo was there, none of them had told it to Frodo who had been so longing for news about Bilbo ! I wonder why?

At my first reading, I could make neither head nor tail of Bilbo’s „Earendil poem“ I kept wondering what it was about.. More glimpses of a mysterious past, and very intriguing, like the non-translated Elbereth song. (I had no rest til I had found out its meaning…thanks to the internet .)

[Formendacil]

Not an essential chapter, plotwise--perhaps not a likely candidate for "only chapter on a desert island" either--but a beautiful one. Though we visited Rivendell in The Hobbit, though we'll stay here through the beginning of "The Ring Goes South," and though we'll pass through again in "Homeward Bound," this chapter is the definitive up-close look at Rivendell. Reading it through this time, it seems that fifteen years of reading critical Tolkien studies have finally sunk in, because this is the first time my mind immediately recognised Rivendell's kinship with the Cottage of Lost Play (a connection also made much earlier on this thread by davem:

Originally Posted by davem

It seems to me that it was the place [Tolkien] 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.

Once this clicks, it becomes an inescapable comparison, and it's one I find quite affecting, since it means that the beauty, the comfort--indeed, the homeliness--of Rivendell isn't just something that Tolkien inserts as a rest in the plot (here or in The Hobbit) but is an illustration of somewhere near and dear to his heart. The Cottage of Lost Play is the location of the transmission of the Lost Tales to Eriol/Ælfwine. Given that "Translations by Bilbo from Rivendell" supplants "Ælfwine" as the mode of Tolkien's Transmission Conceit, the closeness of their settings is noteworthy--and perhaps Tolkien himself realised this when he eventually abandoned the Ælfwine elements in the Silmarillion (admittedly sometime after writing the LotR)--not only was Bilbo just as serviceable a conduit as Ælfwine, but there was no need for a Cottage of Lost Play when there was already a Last Homely House in the story.

Though, I feel obliged to point out, that mirroring locations is very much a part of Middle-earth: Gondolin is a mirror of Tirion-on-Túna, the Elvenking's Halls a mirror of Menegroth, Kortirion was a mirror of Kor. And, certainly, there's no conceptual reason why, once he crosses the Seas at the end of this tale, that Elrond could not have built a new home in Tol Eressëa like unto his old one--no reason, in other words, that he could not have been the new Master of the Cottage of Lost Play in a later version of Ælfwine's tale. But even if you hold some private headcanon of that sort, it is still unnecesssary--and how should the tales Ælfwine learns cross back over the unBent seas?

Speaking of the transmission of tales in the Hall of Fire, we not only see Rivendell taking on the trappings of the Cottage of Lost Play, but fulfilling its function when Bilbo recites his poem of Eärendil. This poem, believe it or not, is pretty the only complete version of the Mariner's tale that Tolkien ever writes--certainly, it's the last version. It ranks with the Gil-galad and Lúthien poems of "A Knife in the Dark" as a personal favourite, and it's probably the most technically impressive of Tolkien's poems--a poetic form he only mastered once ("Errantry," which features the same scheme, is actually the earlier version of this poem--Tolkien changed it by stages to be about Eärendil.)

Continuing the Lost Tales comparison, and looking specifically at connections to Eärendil, both Rivendell and the Cottage of Lost Play feature a direct connection to the Mariner: the Cottage had Ilfirin "Littleheart" the son of Voronwë, who had been a companion of Eärendil on the great voyage, while Rivendell is, of course, the home of Eärendil's son. I always enjoy the line Bilbo gives us from Aragorn, about him having cheek to make verses about Eärendil in the House of Elrond, because it hasn't been made explicit yet that Elrond is Eärendil's son--and though Elrond tells us this directly in the next chapter, "The Council of Elrond" is so full of details about history and the plot that it is easy to forget (as a 11-year-old version of me did) that the light of Eärendil's Star in the Phial of Galadriel is the light of Elrond's dad's star.