LotR -- Book 3 - Chapter 03 - The Uruk-Hai

[Aiwendil]

HerenIstarion wrote:

But basically that's what I've tried to say, but obviously failed (right but no ability, blah-blah-blah)

Minus the main bulk of orcs (and I make such a proviso on the ground of Tolkien's later opinion (i.e. "Orcs are beasts and Balrogs Maiar").

Ah, but this exactly what I was referring to. Your supposition is that there are two quite distinct kinds of Orcs: those with free will and those that are mere beasts. My point was that such a distinction does not appear to be at all present in LotR. Tolkien's late thoughts on Orc-nature are by no means clear, but even if one reads the Myths Transformed texts as indicating such a dichotomy (which is I think a valid reading) such a view seems to me to contradict their depiction in LotR.

Davem wrote:

But was this episode written pre- or post LotR - don't have my books to hand?

It was present in the original late 1920s version of the poem, and was heavily revised in the 1950s.

Did the writing of episodes like this one in LotR change the Orcs of the Sil - was this change written back into the Silmarillion?

An interesting question - did the writing of LotR alter the depiction of Orcs? We might compare the two passages from the Lay. The unrevised:

'This ring in far Beleriand
now mark ye, mates' he said, 'was wrought.
Its like with gold could not be bought,
for this same Barahir I slew,
this robber fool, they say, did do
a deed of service long ago
for Felagund. It may be so;
for Morgoth bade me bring it back,
and yet, methinks, he has no lack
of weightier treasure in his hoard.
Such greed befits not such a lord,
and I am minded to declare
the hand of Barahir was bare!'

And the revised:

. . . 'Now, mates' he cried
'here's mine! And I'll not be denied,
though few be like it in the land.
For I 'twas wrenched it from the hand
of that same Barahir I slew,
the robber-knave. If tales be true,
he had it of some elvish lord,
for the rogue-service of his sword.
No help it gave to him - he's dead.
They're parlous, elvish rings, 'tis said:
still for the gold I'll keep it, yea
and so eke out my niggard pay.
Old Sauron bade me bring it back,
and yet, methinks, he has no lack
of weightier treasures in his hoard:
the greater the greedier the lord!
So mark ye, mates, ye all shall swear
the hand of Barahir was bare!

Now the impression I get from the unrevised version is not much different from the impression I get of the Orcs in this chapter. Indeed, there are several touches in both versions that very strongly call to mind the Orcs of LotR. Note the Orc's description of Barahir: a 'robber fool' in the unrevised, 'robber-knave' in the revised version, who offered his 'rogue-service' to Felagund. It's exactly the same sentiment as the 'regular Elvish trick' comment.

So perhaps there is a change in the depiction of Orcs from pre-LotR to post-LotR, but if so it's rather a subtle one. We ought not to confuse the necessary difference in the depth of depiction between most of the Silmarillion material and LotR with a difference in the nature of that depiction.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

This the third chapter in The Lord of the Rings without poetry. The first one was The Bridge of Khazad-dûm (q.v.), and the second was The Breaking of the Fellowship. At first glance, I saw that the chapters all involved the loss of a member of the Fellowship (although Boromir’s death was just referred to in the current chapter). It seems also that these “action” chapters involve single combat of some form:

In The Bridge of Khazad-dûm, it was Gandalf vs. the Balrog.
In The Breaking of the Fellowship, it was Frodo vs. the Ring.
In The Uruk-Hai, it was Pippin vs. the Uruk-Hai.

Let’s look at each confrontation, one by one:

~The first one was a classic single combat of two powerful beings. This form of battle Gandalf will experience again throughout the rest of the War of the Ring (against the Nazgûl, and, in cases where it was not really combat but a confrontation nonetheless, against Saruman and the Mouth of Sauron).

~The second one was a battle of wills, an internal struggle Frodo would carry on to Mordor.

~The last battle is also of will, with Pippin unwilling to give up hope, a battle which would ultimately save Faramir’s life.

It appears that all combatants (on the side of Good) would keep on fighting with the same way in which they first battled.

So much for the nature of the confrontation. Let’s move on to its results:

~Gandalf killed the Balrog, but he died because of it.

~Frodo will destroy the Ring, but he, too, will “die” because of it.

~Pippin “defeats” the Uruk-Hai, and (with Merry) he would carry on to destroy Saruman’s military might, even in the Shire. Sure, he will die, but not because of it.

[HerenIstarion]

Originally Posted by Aiwendil

My point was that such a distinction does not appear to be at all present in LotR. Tolkien's late thoughts on Orc-nature are by no means clear, but even if one reads the Myths Transformed texts as indicating such a dichotomy (which is I think a valid reading) such a view seems to me to contradict their depiction in LotR.

Yup. I have to ground myself on far-fetched suppositions again, but, assuming label 'history' for LoTR, it may be argued that what impression Pippin and Merry brought out of their communication with orks, would not be indicative of orks as a whole. If my supposition be true (i.e. some distinct orks have free will, main bulk are beasts), than it may be said that most of the Free Peoples (but their wise) would not know the difference. They would not say, per instance:

1. Uglúk is a 'human' ork, with a free will, he's dangerous, but he’s a sinner, and as he’s a sinner, he may repent
2. Snaga is a beast, it's dangerous, but innocent, as a tiger is dangerous.

What impression there would be, would be expressed rather in something similar to what follows:

1. Uglúk is a larger one, wittier, stronger and more dangerous, but they both are orks
2. Snaga is a smaller one, dumber, weaker and less dangerous, but they both are orks

Or, to evaluate the whole affair from another angle:

The orks may be studied in two ways. If we rely on the Hobbit and LoTR only, it would be impossible to guess at their origin and nature – i.e., when I first read Hobbit and LoTR, if anyone asked me, ‘what are orks?’ my answer would be:

‘orks just are’, or ‘they are race of very wicked creatures, which are like humans – they have two hands, two legs and head, they have culture and rituals (High Goblin), machinery (for killing lot of people in one go), language (hence the need to use the common speech), history-memory (good old days, Orcrist, Glamdring ), sense of Good and Evil (regular elvish trick) but they are cruel (we left him hanging there) and have no sense of beauty or kindness’.

[I may have felt that their state of cruelty is work of some Evil Power (if I were of religious disposition), or I may have thougt that they are like this due to evolutionary development of their race hard conditions of Northern mountains, and their alliance with Sauron is just a coincidence]

If we rely on the whole bulk of Tolkien’s works, the answer may be answered thus:

‘the origin of orks is dubious, some hold they are ‘mutant’ elves, others they are ‘mutant’ men, some – ‘mutant’ beasts, with occasional incorporated maiar embedded. The very term ‘ork’ spoils the game, for originally it merely referred to something ‘terrible’ so almost any enemy of elves may have been labeled thus. What is that all sources agree upon is that whatever their origin may be, ‘mutation’ is ascribed to Morgoth, who spoiled something originally good. Besides, it may be that all of the sources are right to an extent, and orks are a mix up of all those trends.’

I indeed hold that ‘all the sources are right’. But having such a belief, I inevitably come to conclusion that we must have different species under the same name and guise of Ork. Just like Men and Apes are all Primates, and supposing there are aliens, those aliens may be confused as to what is the difference (and some men were confused as well, believing Orangutans to be Men of the Woods), but if you ask us, we know we are men and apes are apes.

Again, I know all of that can not be worked out of LoTR alone, but again, LoTR is, to a point, account hobbits left us. Or, following you, it is my point also that such a distinction does not appear to be at all present in LotR. But I wonder what would be said about orks if Gandalf were to write the ‘History of the War of the Ring’, not Frodo?

[Aldarion Elf-Friend]

Here's another data point for our discussion of the nature of orcs, albeit a small one. I finally finished reading the appendices of LotR last night, and came across an interesting sentance - one I would have totally overlooked if not for our discussion here.

But Orcs and Trolls spoke as they would, without love of words or things; and their language was actually more degraded and filthy that I have shown it. I do not suppose that any will wish for a closer rendering, though models are easy to find. Much of the same sort of talk can still be heard among the orc-minded; dreary and repetitive with hatred and contempt, too long removed from good to retain even verbal vigor, save in the ear of those to whom only the squalid sounds strong. Appendix F II, On Translation (Emphasis mine)

This is another indication, I think, that we need to look at orcs not just from a cosmological/evolutionary perspective, but from a literary/functional perspective. The cruelty of war was fresh on Tolkien's mind when this book was written, and I am sure that in his life he witnessed more of man's inhumanity to man than any one person should (true of just about anyone who has lived through one war, much less two).

This is, I think, the only place in the main work that Tolkien equates orc-behavior with man-behavior (the letter mention the cutting of trees, or course). I think that when Tolkien created the orcs as opponents of the elves and men and servants of the enemy, he wasn't considering their origins, which is one of the reasons they troubled him so in his later years.

Finally, I'm sure that we have all had the experience of hearing someone who uses the f-word in every sentance, and the "dreary and repetitive" is an apt description.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

I must admit that I have always found the discussion about orcs and free will to be a bit of a red herring – I mean, really, there are no such things as orcs, so how can the question of free will even be relevant? They are orcs/monsters, so they are bad, just as Elves are good. These are figures from fairy-tale and ancient legend, not historical figures or even characters from a religious tract (like the Bible) being used as the basis of a new belief system. In Beowulf Grendel, Grendel’s Dam and the Dragon are the monsters, they are evil, and thus to be destroyed by good. I really see the same thing with the orcs – I don’t know if it’s ever come up in the Downs, but I don’t recall seeing anyone wonder about the free will or ‘redeemability’ of Smaug: he’s a sentient being, and one who, unlike the orcs, isn’t even a servant or slave of Sauron (nor even made/marred by him). If anything, dragons would apparently be more likely to have the possibility of redemption, but we don’t put ourselves into contortions about whether there is a chance for a good dragon. Dragons are bad, dragons need to die – and not because they have freely chosen evil after some metaphysical/moralizing struggle, but because they are monsters.

The fairy-tale monstrous quality of the orcs is evident in this chapter: they are disgusting and cruel, they are monstrous-imitations of the worse aspects of human nature, and they are – in the end – self-defeating. The orcs kill more of each other than they ever do of the Men they encounter (by my count, about a dozen orcs are killed by other orcs in this chapter, while only three men go down). Like all fairy-tale monsters they are a device: they represent in their cruelty an aspect of humanity (not human beings), and even serve, in an unconscious way, the forces of good, by bringing Merry and Pippin to Fangorn.

I think the only reason we get bogged down in the debates over the orcs is that they are so much more human-appearing than dragons. They look more like us than dragons, they speak more like us: they are more clearly, perhaps, reflections of us and thus we want to think of them in terms that we apply to ourselves. But this is where I think the red herring comes in, as Tolkien was not writing a story in which his fairy-tale creatures are meant to be seen as individuals, but as part of a whole. That is, orcs are not little versions of humans, but are part of a fabric that explores aspects of humanity.

In this chapter, a small piece of that fabric is revealed in the comparison of hobbits and orcs. The previous chapter presented Aragorn as a Man emerging from the mists of legend and stepping into history. He claimed his role as King and advanced his war against Sauron. In this chapter, we get a look at the ‘foot soldiers’ of that War. In the conflict between good and evil in Middle-earth, the primary opponents are Sauron/Saruman and Aragorn/Gandalf. But the beings who do the actual fighting and combat in this war are the orcs on one side and the lesser men, and hobbits, on the other. We’ve already been introduced to the Rohirrim, but in this chapter we see the hobbits (who will bring the Ents into the war with Saruman, and the Ring to destruction). It’s interesting that the only other time we see orcs, up close and personal, is in relation to Sam and Frodo: the orcs never appear on their own but beside and in relation to the hobbits. The point is, I don’t think that the role of the orcs in LotR is to be considered in isolation, but as foils and in relation to the hobbits.

It’s a natural pairing: just as you will never see a good orc who deserves to be allowed to live his life, you will never see an evil hobbit who deserves to be destroyed. Their cultures, their way of speaking, their attitudes toward nature and other peoples are all directly opposite to one another.

The previous chapter is the first in the book not to include a hobbit, and that is significant I think, for without their perspective, things tend to get somewhat stilted and even a bit over the top – very High and not very close to the lived reality and earthiness that we find in Hobbits. I’m not decrying this, for it is this heightened tone that allows Aragorn to move into his heroic identity, but I find this chapter and the return to hobbitishness a welcome relief. It’s already been noted how Merry and Pippin talk about hobbity things in this chapter, but one of these things is their fondness for stories. Bethberry has already quoted this bit, but I shall do so again:

"You seem to have been doing well, Master Took," said Merry. "You will get almost a chapter in old Bilbo's book, if ever I get a chance to report to him. Good work: especially guessing that hairy villain's little game, and playing up to him. But I wonder if anyone will ever pick up your trail and find that brooch. I should hate to lose mine, but I am afraid yours is gone for good."

"I shall have to brush up my toes, if I am to get level with you. Indeed Cousin Brandybuck is going in front now. This is where he comes in.”

In the previous chapter we see Aragorn stepping from legend into history, the myth made flesh. With the hobbits, we see them already anticipating their transition from lived experience to story; this is a perspective that is unique to hobbits in LotR (Sam and Frodo will develop this idea most fully in the Stairs of Cirith Ungol). It’s almost as though they realize in some way that they are fairy-tale figures in a story that will be told to young hobbits in the future: their aspirations are not Aragorn’s, to become figures of vast historical importance by stepping from legend, but to earn a small part in the story of the past. In this sense, their adventure with the orcs ‘fits’ perfectly; it’s the one adventure in the whole of LotR that is most like the adventures of Bilbo in The Hobbit. The chapter itself concludes with a brief, and odd, paragraph that seems to anticipate the hobbits’ transition to fairy-tale:

Out of the shadows the hobbits peeped, gazing back down the slope: little furtive figures that in the dim light looked like elf-children in the deeps of time peering out of the Wild Wood in wonder at their first Dawn.

I think the most significant function of this chapter is to demonstrate how hobbits are having and will continue to have an effect not so much on the events of the War (which they will have) but how they will affect the stories of the War. In addition to the epic tale of Aragorn’s Return and the Defeat of Sauron, there is the fairy-tale of two little hobbits who were kidnapped by the monstrous orcs, and borne to the edges of an enchanted wood where they met a tree and led the forest to victory over the evil wizard in his tower of stone. The story of Aragorn and Sauron is the tale that engages the heady and important themes of free-will and repentance, the relation between evil and good, providence and fate. The story of the hobbits, and of Merry and Pippin in particular, is a tale that looks at the much simpler ideas of monsters and heroes, surviving a harrowing adventure, escape and using your wits, and living to tell the story afterward. The previous chapter is part of an epic tale; this chapter is itself a little fairy-tale.

[The Saucepan Man]

Originally Posted by Fordim Hedgethistle

I must admit that I have always found the discussion about orcs and free will to be a bit of a red herring – I mean, really, there are no such things as orcs, so how can the question of free will even be relevant?

It becomes relevant when one considers that Middle-earth is said to be presided over by a single and fundamentally good God. Beore I came across Eru, I never gave it a moment's thought. But, armed with knowledge of His existence in the tale, the incapability of Orcs to repent (during their lives at least) presents for me an essential inconsitency in the portrayal of Good.

I don’t know if it’s ever come up in the Downs, but I don’t recall seeing anyone wonder about the free will or ‘redeemability’ of Smaug ...

It applies with regard to any sentient beings who have no choice but to serve evil. It is possible (if one posits that they were in origin Maian spirits, for example) that Dragons did have a choice. But if they didn't then, as far as I'm concerned, the same considerations (and problems) apply.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

It becomes relevant when one considers that Middle-earth is said to be presided over by a single and fundamentally good God. Beore I came across Eru, I never gave it a moment's thought. But, armed with knowledge of His existence in the tale, the incapability of Orcs to repent (during their lives at least) presents for me an essential inconsitency in the portrayal of Good.

I really don't see why it needs to. To cite Beowulf again, it's a poem that can be Christian, and there are sentient monsters; we can even go to something like Spenser's Faerie Queene which is as Christian as things get, and it has reasoning monsters that need destroying. What I mean when I say that orcs are a device is that they are, as monsters, no different from the other obstacles that the heroes encounter: the Watcher in the Water, Caradhras, Saruman, etc etc etc. All of these have been created ultimately be Eru, so all of them are either as problematic -- or not -- to the grand scheme of things. Why did Eru make orcs? I don't know, but why did he make the mountains?

This is the kind of red-herring that I'm talking about, for I'm sure that someone is going to address these sorts of questions -- in effect, to attempt to probe the mind of Eru/God, when what I think we need to be focusing on is the relation enacted in the story between the various elements: in this case, orcs/monsters and hobbits/heroes in their fairy-tale adventure.