LotR -- Book 6 - Chapter 4 - The Field of Cormallen

[Aiwendil]

We have at the beginning of the chapter another example of the story-telling technique Tolkien used for the arrival of the Rohirrim at the Pelennor fields. He gives the story up to the critical point first from one point of view, then from another; then he continues from the critical point from one point of view and then from the other. In this way, he is able to take the same event and make use of it four times; he maximizes the use he gets out of it.

Thus, in book V, he tells up to the arrival of the Rohirrim first from the viewpoint of the people of Minas Tirith, then from the viewpoint of the Rohirrim; and then he continues with the story first from the point of view of the Rohirrim and then from that of the characters in Minas Tirith.

He has told up to the point of eucatastrophe from the perspective of the army in the last chapter of book V. Then he switched to Frodo and Sam and told up to the same point in chapter 3 of book VI. Now in chapter 4 he carries on from the same point, first from the perspective of the army and then from that of Frodo and Sam. This is an interesting technique and, I think, it demonstrates Tolkien's supreme skill in the handling of a story. Every change in viewpoint seems to come at exactly the right moment.

We have with the arrival of the eagles not only a reminder of The Hobbit but also of The Silmarillion. As a matter of fact, the eagles recall two moments in the Silmarillion. The more obvious is the eucatastrophe of that work, the coming of Earendil and the eagles to defeat Ancalagon and win the War of Wrath. But there is a more specific connection here with the tale of Beren and Luthien; Gwaihir and Landroval were the two eagles that accompanied Thorondor to rescue Beren and Luthien from the gate of Thangorodrim. This resonates with Sam's earlier observation that he and Frodo are part of the same story as Beren and Luthien.

A small point that I just noticed re-reading this chapter: Gandalf says to Gwaihir, 'Twice you have borne me'. This must refer to his escape from Orthanc and his journey from Zirak-Zigil after the battle with the Balrog. But this would mean that the "lord of the eagles" from The Hobbit was not in fact Gwaihir.

As for the rest of the chapter - in my opinion, this is perhaps the greatest evocation of pure joy in literature. Estelyn points out that:

"Is everything sad going to come untrue?" No, this is no fairy-tale; though there is a happy ending, it is not absolute nor comprehensive.

And Davem wrote:

Yet we seem to see a change in Frodo when the two rescued Hobbits awaken in Ithilien. He laughs, & calls Sam ‘Sleepyhead’. He seems almost his old self again. But this is an illusion - its almost as if he himself has forgotten that he has no hope, being caught up in Sam’s joy. Soon, though, he will remember.

Now, both of these things are obviously true, at least in some sense. But I think there is a danger of focusing too much on the tragedy and loss in LotR. It is not an absolutely happy ending, but it is quite close to one. Sauron has been defeated. The kingship of Gondor will soon be restored. Many years of prosperity will follow for most of the good people.

Nor do I think that Frodo's recovery is entirely illusory. He has lost something, and his wounds will not heal in Middle-earth. But he is far better off now, far healthier in mind and spirit, than he was in the preceding weeks. He is capable of joy again.

In short, I don't think that any of the bad things that are to follow cancel or even mitigate the pure joy, the triumph, of the Field of Cormallen. Here (though of course, only here), Frodo and Sam are given the honour they deserve. Both Aragorn (king of Men) and Gandalf (emissary of the Valar) humble themselves before the Hobbits:

And then to Sam's surprise and utter confusion he [Aragorn] bowed his knee before them

and Gandalf, as if he were their esquire, knelt and girt the sword-belts around them, and then rising he set circlets of silver upon their heads.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Ok, call me a sentimental idiot, but this is easily one of my very favourite chapters as, for me, it is the fullest unravelling of the eucatastrophe of the tale. The ‘real’ climactic moment came in the last chapter, I suppose:

‘Precious, precious, precious!’ Gollum cried. ‘My Precious! O my Precious!’ And with that, even as his eyes were lifted up to gloat on his prize, he stepped too far, toppled, wavered for a moment on the brink, and then with a shriek he fell. Out of the depths came his last wail Precious, and he was gone.

This is going back a bit, I know, but a few comments seem necessary: first, I love how here, at the end, the paragraph is NOT about the destruction of the Ring but about the death of Gollum: “he was gone”. It’s almost as though the narrative itself is not going to make Gollum’s mistake and focus on the Ring at this moment, but remain focused instead on the ‘human’ aspect of the story. This moment could have been narrated in two ways – the first is the way Tolkien chose to narrate it: as the story of an individual who has finally lost his identity (he is Gollum here, not Smeagol) falling to his individual death. The other way to narrate it would have made more sense of the story, but would have made for less compelling reading: that narrative would have focused on how Eru or Providence (or luck) pushed the Ring into the fire. And with great anxiety and dread, but to prove an important point (that such a paragraph could have existed at this point) I would conjecture something like:

“And as Gollum gazed upon the Ring” (not the unspecific ‘his prize’) “he stepped too far, and whether it was the buckling of the ground, or some last shred of Smeagol in the creature he had become that willed him to it, or perhaps even luck, he fell into the fire, and the Ring was no more.”

OK, I know how pale that is in comparison to what Tolkien could have done, but I wanted to give an example of this ‘other’ kind of narrative that Tokien did not write.

So why go back a chapter to talk about this one? Because the current chapter maintains and broadens this focus on the human and the individual and intimate, forsaking any narrative that would attempt to place the destruction of the Ring into any ‘wider’ scope. As davem has already pointed out, the first members of the Fellowship whom we see reacting to the success of the Quest are Sam and Frodo, and they have a conversation about their individual love and respect for one another. It’s also interesting that outside Mordor, where the ‘big events’ are really going on, the army is treated to that wonderful image of Sauron being blown away by the west wind, while Frodo and Sam see nothing of the kind just a few miles from Barad-Dur – they are too involved with each other to even see the great events unfold.

This sets up the series of revelations that make this chapter so utterly moving to me. When Frodo awakens to see that Gandalf is alive he reacts with the joy of seeing that his friend is not dead:

’Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?’

(This moment hearkens all the way back to the last paragraph of the first chapter, in which we saw foreshadowed Gandalf’s death, when his “cloaked figure quickly vanished into the twilight” and “Frodo did not see him again for a long time” – testimony to how careful a craftsman Tolkien was.)

When Sam sees the Man who has become Aragorn, Son of Aragorn, Elessar Telcontar the Returned King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Anor and Gondor, The Elf-Stone, Dunedain, he cries out:

’Well, if that isn’t the crown of all!…Strider, or I’m still asleep!’

And in the final act that makes me willing to die for this man, Aragorn takes the name of Strider from Sam’s lips with affection and pride.

And then comes the part that gets me misty every time I read it. I shall let it speak for itself:

And when the glad shout had swelled up and died away again, to Sam’s final and complete satisfaction and pure joy, a minstrel of Gondor stood forth, and knelt, and begged leave to sing. And behold! He said:

‘Lo! Lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dunedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and great-hearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West, now listen to my lay. For I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom.’

And when Sam heard that he laughed aloud for sheer delight, and he stood up and cried: ‘O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!’ And then he wept.

(As do I each time.)

Here’s Sam at his best – Sauron has fallen, the hosts of the west are free, the minstrel is going to sing a ‘big’ song, and Sam has his moment of uttermost joy for the sake of his dear friend – he’s happy that Frodo is going to be recognized and lauded as Sam feels he should be. It’s a moment of friendship that shatters me with its utter beauty and purity.

It’s also Sam who brings the point home: when he hears of the ‘great’ events that have been taking place while he and Frodo toiled in their individual trials he merely says,

‘But I missed a lot, seemingly.’

I think this is the narrative’s acknowledgment that the feelings of joy that Tolkien called eucatastrophe are not linked to these greater events but to the individual trial and struggle. It’s simply not a historical even but a personal one, and this, I think, is an acknowledgement that eucatastrophe is really the experience of the reader – for the great, deep, tear inducing joy that I feel at this moment is a profoundly personal thing: the reward, almost, for having come so far with these characters. The real quest here is the one that I’ve completed – that all individual readers have completed – so it makes sense that it would culminate with a story like the one we’ve been reading.

[Essex]

Moments of pure emotion lace this chapter - just some examples.

And so it was that Gwaihir saw them with his keen far-seeing eyes, as down the wild wind he came, and daring the great peril of the skies he circled in the air: two small dark figures, forlorn, hand in hand upon a little hill, while the world shook under them, and gasped, and rivers of fire drew near. And even as he espied them and came swooping down, he saw them fall, worn out, or choked with fumes and heat, or stricken down by despair at last, hiding their eyes from death.

Now we know that Sam and Frodo do not die here, but it still jars my soul every time I read this, (except for the first time when I was overjoyed that Gwaihir would save them) - Yes, they survived, but just read the text in bold - they, themselves, KNEW they were going to die, and horribly so. How my heart goes out to them......

And then of course, we get the supreme moment (for me) in the whole of the book. (and as an aside the one bit in the movies when I cried like a baby!)

'Well, if that isn't the crown of all!' he (Sam) said. 'Strider, or I'm still asleep!'
'Yes, Sam, Strider,' said Aragorn. 'It is a long way, is it not, from Bree, where you did not like the look of me? A long way for us all but yours has been the darkest road.'
And then to Sam's surprise and utter confusion he bowed his knee before them; and taking them by the hand, Frodo upon his right and Sam upon his left, he led them to the throne, and setting them upon it, he turned to the men and captains who stood by and spoke, so that his voice rang over all the host, crying: 'Praise them with great praise!'

This was so powerful to me. The King of Gondor bowing before two hobbits. Not only did it show the great importance and praise of the hobbits, but also showed the Mark of the Man in that Aragorn, King, would bow to others. A King normally does not bow, and it shows great humility and honour in Aragorn.

[HerenIstarion]

Originally Posted by Fordim

Ok, call me a sentimental idiot, but this is easily one of my very favourite chapters as, for me, it is the fullest unravelling of the eucatastrophe of the tale.

Call me too

But what is at it's fullest in this chapter, is a theme of 'reward' - what it is 'good' people get for their trouble at the end of their labour (or intermediate end, following Frodo/Sam discourse about 'tales that never end' and have not one 'beginning')

I'll have to jump a bit between chapters to illustrate the poing, but the fullest expression, as mentioned, is the song of Frodo of Nine Fingers:

Lo! Lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dunedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and great-hearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West, now listen to my lay. For I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom

(Not unlike Sam, the minstrel sends shivers down my spine )

For Middle-Earth, song seems equivalent of what in modern world is expressed through medals and honours and awards. And not unlike our world, in most cases, such a 'medal' is given posthumously:

Then the Riders of the King’s House upon white horses rode round about the barrow and sang together a song of Théoden Thengel’s son that Gléowine his minstrel made, and he made no other song after....

...Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day’s rising
he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended;
over death, over dread, over doom lifted
out of loss, out of life, unto long glory

Théoden may have been respected and loved when he was idle and will-less, but he became worthy of a song only after great deed accomplished. Would they make such a song about him, if he simply died in his hall of old age? Listing of the kings type of chronicle, yes, maybe. Praise - doubt it.

Likewise, fallen heroes of Pelennor Fields:

We heard of the horns in the hills ringing,
the swords shining in the South-kingdom.
Steeds went striding to the Stoningland
as wind in the morning. War was kindled.
There Théoden fell, Thengling mighty,
to his golden halls and green pastures
in the Northern fields never returning,
high lord of the host. Harding and Guthláf
Dúnhere and Déorwine, doughty Grimbold,
Herefara and Herubrand, Horn and Fastred,
fought and fell there in a far country:
in the Mounds of Mundburg under mould they lie
with their league-fellows, lords of Gondor.
Neither Hirluin the Fair to the hills by the sea,
nor Forlong the old to the flowering vales
ever, to Arnach, to his own country
returned in triumph; nor the tall bowmen,
Derufin and Duilin, to their dark waters,
meres of Morthond under mountain-shadows.
Death in the morning and at day’s ending
lords took and lowly. Long now they sleep
under grass in Gondor by the Great River.
Grey now as tears, gleaming silver,
red then it rolled, roaring water:
foam dyed with blood flamed at sunset;
as beacons mountains burned at evening;
red fell the dew in Rammas Echor.

And all it echoes with Silmarillion and Fëanor - of old in Middle-Earth song about deed is the dearest honour and award:

And it was told by the Vanyar who held vigil with the Valar that when the messengers declared to Manwë the answers of Fëanor to his heralds, Manwë wept and bowed his head. But at that last word of Fëanor: that at the least the Noldor should do deeds to live in song for ever, he raised his head, as one that hears a voice far off, and he said: 'So shall it be! Dear-bought those songs shall be accounted, and yet shall be well-bought. For the price could be no other. Thus even as Eru spoke to us shall beauty not before conceived be brought into Eä, and evil yet be good to have been.'

Fame, and it's expression through song is as by-product for striving for good cause. Though it is not the end in itself, it is understood that if the deed is worthy, it's currency of exchange is song:

Legolas

Follow what may, great deeds are not lessened in worth,’ said Legolas. ‘Great deed was the riding of the Paths of the Dead, and great it shall remain, though none be left in Gondor to sing of it in the days that are to come

Théoden

Maybe we shall cleave a road, or make such an end as will be worth a song-if any be left to sing of us hereafter.

And coming back to my favourite, Boromir:

Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?'
'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.'
'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men are.'

From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans.
'What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.'
'Ask not of me where he doth dwell-so many bones there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!'
'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south,
But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth.'

From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
'What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.'
'Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.'
'O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.'

It's a lament, yes, but it is a reward as well - if Boromir haven't overcome himself, would Aragorn make a song for him, I wonder?

You do deeds for the Good's sake, even, as Frodo, knowing that noone will mention you in song, or noone will be left to mention you, but you have the right to hope that if you do your duty to the end, there will be a song to mention you and be sung ever after. And Cormallen field is a place where deeds, (happy event - for heroes still alive), are fully paid for in that currency.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

The contrast between the relationship of Frodo and Sam to that of Sauron and his minions is very striking here. Or at least it struck me. Even after Frodo ‘failed’ his last and greatest test, Sam of his own free will, did not abandon him, but rather moved to rescue his Master in this time of Frodo’s greatest weakness. This was not so with the crowd gathered around Sauron. While the Nazgul did come when called, the army, bereft of his constraining Will, melted away.

At this read through, I could not help but feel that there might have been a bit of a connection been Sauron and Frodo here in the following passage.

'Maybe not, Sam,' said Frodo; 'but it's like things are in the world. Hopes fail. An end comes. We have only a little time to wait now. We are lost in ruin and downfall, and there is no escape.'

To me these words struck me as another apparition of Sauron, given voice by Frodo, a lingering effect of Frodo’s burden. Is this how the dark lord kept his servants in hand, by robbing them of their individual hope so that they believed all rested only in his successes?

And despite Frodo’s strength and courage in bearing the Ring to the end, he must have felt himself the least of the company in Cormallen, after hearing of all their doings in this chapter.

Upon reading this chapter and thread, I get the sense of a great jigsaw puzzle with many pieces. Each piece may not have an idea of their own value, or be able to know on what a truly grand scale the completed picture is, perhaps even encompassing the Valar, yet it could not have been completed without each of them. And the picture honestly is quite beautiful.

Closing with a quote that has been mentioned before, but I think would bear another round. It is one of the most lovely things I have ever read, very true and wonderfully evocative of the feeling that overwhelms the reader.

‘And he sang to them, now in the Elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.’

[Bergil]

[quote]The question of why Gandalf takes three eagles with him is difficult to answer.[/qoute]

no it isn't, he was riding the third one.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

The real question is how is it the eagles kept Frodo and Sam from falling off? I suppose they were exceptionally skilled, from all the practice!

But this following quote I found very curious.

'Twice you have borne me, Gwaihir my friend,' said Gandalf. 'Thrice shall pay for all, if you are willing.'

Is this simply a strange turn of phrase or is Gwaihir paying Gandalf back for a favor we are unaware of?