Book V, Chapter 6: The Battle of the Pelennor Fields & Chapter 7: The Pyre of Denethor
For these chapters I picked up the last in this really slapdash Collins Modern Classics set -- I like them less each time I pick them up, unfortunately. The John Howe illustration on the cover ain’t great -- it’s not clear why, of all his lovely work, they’ve picked a depiction of Minas Tirith that neither impresses with the city’s size nor shows us any characters or moments of real note. Furthermore, the copy on the rear cover inexplicably promises that Ents join the battle -- as they of course do not, not in this book -- while leaving Hobbits out of the list entirely. Someone who cared very, very little about The Lord of the Rings was clearly responsible for this presentation of the text, and I can’t call myself enthusiastic. The contents, though, are what really matters here for our reading experience, and oh man do we have a lively pair of chapters here.
I mean, the battle is full of really epic scenes back to front, and it kicks off with one of the most memorably awe-inspiring moments in the whole novel as Dernhelm is revealed as Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, and she faces off against the Witch-King of Angmar. I mused briefly in my last post about whether Gandalf could have withstood him -- my sense of cosmology in Middle-earth leans yes, my sense of the placement in the story leans no -- but certainly it comes as a shock that Eowyn can face off against so formidable an adversary. His very breath poisons those around him with fear and despair, and he’s riding some angry pterodactyl -- she should be terrified, and she probably is. But she sees that Theoden is badly wounded, and she sure isn’t going to let this decrepit shambling corpse anywhere near her beloved uncle and lord. I love every line here -- “begone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion” is an awesome opening line (dwimmerlaik is from an Old English word, as I recall -- dwimmer from dweomer which references sorcery and laik from lic or lich, which any D&D player knows is an undead creature of terrible power -- and very apt for the Lord of the Nazgul) and even when the Witch-King threatens her in a really terrifying way with a fate worse than death, to have her “shrivelled mind be left naked” before Sauron’s piercing gaze, she says “do what you will, but I will hinder it if I may”. What I love most here is that Eowyn succeeds in genuinely dismaying the Nazgul with her sheer determination -- she doesn’t wield some lore-filled blade, she doesn’t descend from some hero of old (I mean, she’s of the House of Eorl, but she’s not tapping into some forgotten Numenorean past here), she has no magic trick up her sleeve. She’s just a shield-maiden of Rohan, and the fire in her eyes and the strength in her heart is enough to give him pause who just laughed scornfully at Gandalf the White. And then the Nazgul, who’s long trusted the prophecy that no “man” could hinder him or cause him death, dies -- Eowyn whips off his creature’s head, and even though her shield is then shattered by the Witch-King’s mace, two “not-men” destroy him: a hobbit named Meriadoc with a blade of Westernesse he found lying on his own nearly-dead body in a tomb in the Barrow-Downs and a woman named Eowyn with a sword clutched in her one working arm. Between them they totally undo the Nazgul who lets out a banshee wail and is swallowed up, never to return. Even though the moment is triumphant, it’s still swallowed up in grief -- Theoden’s last words to Merry are heart-breaking as he seems relieved to have finally accomplished some great deed, but never recognizes that it was Eowyn who stepped forward to protect him. Eomer is so overcome at the death (as he thinks) of them both that he leads the riders into battle screaming “Death!” which is a really stirring image but also probably not setting himself up for good decision-making. At least briefly, it feels like the House of Eorl will be fully extinguished today as all three remaining members die on the Pelennor.
Now, here’s where I’d like to do another of my deep dives, because the ships of Umbar arrive -- deeply dismaying the forces of Gondor and Rohan -- but of course they turn out to be crewed by King Aragorn II and his men, who are here to turn the tide of battle. Let’s do some background here on our old friend Aragorn. In his youth -- a half century or so ago -- Aragorn went to Gondor to test his strength, win renown, etc. But he did so under a false name, since he certainly wasn’t ready to reveal himself as heir. So as Thorongil he joined the Gondorian army and rose through the ranks -- Thorongil was almost exactly the same age as the Steward’s son, Denethor, who was a leader of soldiers also (yes, Aragorn and Denethor are the same age -- one wears it a LOT better than the other). Thorongil and Denethor didn’t get along well, as you might imagine -- Thorongil was a proponent of Gandalf’s, arguing for his counsel to carry greater weight with then-Steward Ecthelion II, while of course Denethor distrusted Gandalf and opposed Thorongil. Thorongil reached a point where he couldn’t stick it out any longer -- maybe pushed a little by Denethor, who must eventually have started to wonder who this man was and what his lineage was -- and his final mission for Gondor was to travel to Umbar and strike them by surprise, disrupting an assault on Gondor that Sauron had been scheming. He was expected back, but never returned. He sent a letter to the Steward saying that he had work elsewhere and would not return to Gondor soon, and then he left his companions, who were pretty deeply sorry to see him go. So there’s a special poetry here that Aragorn is not just coming to Minas Tirith to claim his throne -- he’s coming from Umbar aboard their seized ships, completing the loop he began half a century ago as a young man who was too intimidated by his destiny to seize the moment before him.
I would also like to point out that there are no Dead soldiers on these ships, because my man Peter Jackson really went ham with the Dead at the Pelennor Fields and it’s pretty ridiculous if you ask me. I mean, in the movie the Dead are all clearly set to God mode -- absolutely nothing can withstand them and it’s not clear anything tries. He just has them swarm all over the Pelennor, dogpiling on mumakil like they’re schools of piranhas and skeletizing the beasts with ease. I’m not a fan (other than of that first terrifying image of Aragorn and these dead running right at the orcs, which I’ll admit is pretty badass). We’ll find out eventually what the Dead did for Aragorn (they were set on God mode -- I cannot argue with Jackson on that point -- but they were never meant to turn the tide of a battle this immense), but for now what matters here is that Aragorn has defeated one of Sauron’s allies and in doing so has freed up the garrisons of Lebenning and Lossarnach, etc, to come to the city’s aid. Good kingly work, that. But it doesn’t make victory automatic -- the narrator explicitly notes that hard fighting remained, and that there was a lot of spirit left in the forces opposing them. Aragorn and Eomer lose some friends out there, although as far as the audience is concerned, the loss of Theoden is the only one that stings, I think.
I’m struck, in Chapter 7, by the agony Gandalf faces -- should he go back to save Faramir, or ride out to aid the Rohirrim? It’s genuinely unclear to me whether or not he makes the right call: his rationale appears to be that if he doesn’t save Faramir nobody will, and I get that. But he’s so crucial to the war effort (and so many brave soldiers of Rohan are about to die) that I do wonder if the life of one captain of Gondor is worth the sacrifice. It’s the Enemy at work -- Gandalf says that repeatedly, and he’s certainly not wrong. Maybe there was no right choice, as Gimli told Aragorn besides the Falls of Rauros. His decision does, from our perspective as readers, feel right -- we get to see a last clarifying conversation with Denethor, and we get the joy of having Faramir (an excellent character) saved. The Denethor conversation reveals at last and unmistakably that Gandalf was wrong to say to Denethor “I also am a steward”....but only because Denethor turns out not to be much of a steward at all. When he realizes that Aragorn’s return is imminent, he says he will refuse to serve as an upstart’s “dotard chamberlain”, even though, as already noted, Aragorn is his same age. And then he disparages the lord for whose sake he and his line have allegedly served as caretakers, saying “he comes but of the line of Isildur. I will not bow to such a one, last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship and dignity.” As Gandalf points out, this isn’t a steward’s reaction at all -- it’s a cowardly rejection of his obligations. But we do feel Denethor, don’t we? When Gandalf asks what he wants, Denethor says “ I would have things as they were in all the days of my life,” and man is that a big 2020 mood or what? But this transition is important -- immediately after the Steward’s death, Gandalf says to the surviving servants, “so pass also the days of Gondor that you have known.” The thing about Gondor that Faramir criticized most pointedly to Frodo and Sam back in Book IV -- the obsession with the past, with the secrets of the stars and the tombs of the dead, rather than on the world as it has become -- is the side of their lives which will have to change. Denethor was unable to give up those dreams of his past. But Gandalf rightly judges, I think, that Faramir is cut from different cloth.
We’ll find out, of course, in my next post, on The Houses of Healing, in Book V, Chapter 8: see you then!