Appendix A, Part 2
The latter portions of Appendix A dive into the more rough and tumble worlds of the Rohirrim (or Eorlingas, as the people of Rohan would have called themselves) and the Dwarves (or Khazad), largely removed from the histories of Elves and Numenoreans that have much more frequently suffused the novel we’ve just read. Beginning with Eorl the Young, it’s really fascinating how Tolkien envisions the societies of Men in the half-millennium or so leading up to the events of this book: somehow Gondor finds itself kingless and longing for that kind of leadership through centuries in which frequently strong, brave, and successful leaders serve as Kings in Rohan. These Kings understand themselves as paying homage to the Stewards of Gondor -- it makes sense to Tolkien, of course, in his hierarchy of the various peoples of the human race in Middle-earth, but the idea that a proud people like that of Rohan would be so deferential to the fading glories of Gondor (however infused with “the blood of Westernesse”) strains credibility a little, I think.
The rulers of Rohan come across as dynamic and alive in a way that basically no Stewards of Gondor do, in this Appendix, whether we’re talking about Eorl taming Felarof or Helm going out weaponless in the snow and slaying his foes bare-handed or even just Folca hunting the great boar of Everholt. I think this is no accident -- Tolkien is energized by the cultural landscape of Rohan, I feel, since it bears so much resemblance to what is recorded of Viking society in some ways. The tales here, at least, are very reminiscent of the portions of Viking sagas I read in college (or for fun), and I think there’s more than a hint of Beowulf lurking here also. It would be interesting to read more about Rohan (alas, though, I think this about does it as far as Tolkien’s writing in his lifetime), and to fill in the gaps in this list of rulers with some more lively elements from saga literature (surely the regnal years of Freawine and Goldwine were not devoid of momentous events?).
One of the most fascinating details in the Appendices, I think, is how recently Saruman took up residence in Orthanc -- the novel gives no real hint of this, and if anything, I think we’re invited to imagine that Orthanc has been his abode since his arrival in Middle-earth. Instead, though, the Appendices inform us that the Istari show up around T.A. 1000, and that it’s not until the 2700s that Saruman appears at the coronation of Frealaf, establishing rapport with the Kings of Rohan and taking up residence soon after at Isengard (where did he wander for 1700 years???). Given the complicated feudal relationships here, Isengard is really a fiefdom of Gondor (this language isn’t used in the Appendix but I think that’s what’s happening), and so it was Beren the Steward who gave Saruman the keys to Orthanc at about this time -- even then, though, it’s someplace he’s more been given charge of than a base of power, at this point. Saruman doesn’t really seize Isengard as an independent entity which he fortifies and rules until after the death of Turgon the Steward, in T.A. 2953, which is more than a decade AFTER the events of The Hobbit -- he’s only really been Master of Orthanc for a little over half a century when he is deposed by Gandalf and Treebeard. I wonder when he first found the palantir of Orthanc (since he had opportunity to explore the tower for a couple of centuries prior to seizing it for his own)? So many questions linger here -- thinking about 1700 years of Saruman’s wandering nudges me to ask what Gandalf has been doing all this time. He says he’s taken a special interest in hobbits and the Shire...I wonder for how long, and whether perhaps many of the significant moments in the history of the Shire and its establishment were nudged along by the watchful and protective interest of Mithrandir.
The section on the Dwarves is really fascinating, since Tolkien has a more developed sense of their history, and much of it never really surfaces in the novel at all -- for instance, he leads not only with the description of Durin the father of the Dwarves, but with the idea that each time a king of their people takes the name Durin, they believe that “Durin the Deathless” really has returned (reincarnation? Possession? It’s not at all clear), and our (presumably Hobbit) narrator comments that the Dwarves “have many strange tales and beliefs concerning themselves and their fate in the world.” I really wish more time had been given to those tales and beliefs here! As it is, we get some good Hobbit backstory explaining the role of Erebor in the timeline of Dwarven civilization (we learn about Moria also but LOTR has done a decent job giving us some of this context), before getting a very deep dive into the life and death of Thorin Oakenshield’s grandfather, Thror -- really beautifully drawn here with his raven Carc (father of Roac, who figures in The Hobbit) by Donato Giancola http://tolkiengateway.net/w/images/a/a1/Donato_Giancola_-_Carc_and_Thror.jpeg -- and his connection with Azog of Moria, who beheaded him and had his body mutilated. It’s vicious stuff, but it also provides a much richer understanding of Thorin’s mindset headed into The Hobbit -- truthfully, it almost demands a rewrite on The Hobbit (which Tolkien attempts in the years following LOTR’s publication, before abandoning it), since with this information, a lot of the interactions between Dwarves and Orcs (called Goblins in that text, generally) really need reinterpreting. We sort of see this occur in Jackson’s Hobbit trilogy of films, about which maybe the less said the better -- there’s at least an attempt there to marry the fairy tale world of The Hobbit with the much higher fantasy world of White Councils and Bolg of Moria’s grudge against the Dwarves, etc., and even though it’s generally not successful at hitting that mark, I still admire the courage of it, at least. If you’d like to have your own head canon rewrite of The Hobbit, certainly read this section with care, and then imagine your way into the head of Thorin throughout that novel, and I’m sure you’ll create some interesting moments and dialogues.
Another interesting connection to The Hobbit here is the scene in which Gandalf and Thorin agree to help each other -- my sense of the original novel was certainly that Gandalf’s connection to these Dwarves was pretty casual, the interest of a bored wandering wizard who, after all, abandons them with some frequency. Reframing it in this way -- Gandalf wanting Smaug taken out as an attempt to deprive Sauron of a potentially powerful and evil ally -- certainly changes a lot of the tone there (and raises the question of why on earth Gandalf thought bringing Bilbo along was a good idea -- if Gandalf wants a dragon dead, he should be working to recruit someone from Rivendell). Deeper reflection on this will have to wait for my blogging through The Hobbit, but that’s not happening anytime soon, I think.
The very last note in Appendix A is a sweet one -- it’s been alluded to a couple of times that there’s a legend Legolas took Gimli with him when he sailed to the West. Here we finally get some confirmation of this (from who? Sam, Merry, and Pippin are all deceased by this point -- I think we have to assume that this is a gloss by one of their children, perhaps Faramir Took, who was I think the Thain after his father’s death?) -- or, if not confirmation, we get an explanation of how this could work at all. Our unknown narrator comments on how implausible this is, but then notes that “it is said that Gimli went also out of desire to see the beauty of Galadriel; and it may be that she, being mighty among the Eldar, obtained this grace for him.” There’s something really sweet about that scene -- and I wonder if Frodo and Sam and Gandalf weren’t all standing there, too, to vouch for Gimli’s honor and valor, and to beseech the Valar to let him stay. Sweet, too, is the idea that Legolas and Gimli, both seemingly lifelong bachelors, were this tied to each other for the many, many years following their months in the Fellowship -- certainly the idea that Gimli would be willing to live forever as the lone Dwarf in Aman demonstrates some deep and abiding connection (and though some may want to ascribe it to Galadriel’s hotness, I think she’s really serving here as a beard -- haha -- covering for Gimli’s attraction to Legolas, and vice versa). Tolkien’s totally uninterested in sexuality, and so I don’t think we can fairly say more than that definitively -- if some of us want to imagine Gimli and Legolas snuggled up together in bed, we can, and if others want to see them as just profoundly attached but platonic friends, I don’t think anything prevents us. The image of them, a little nervous, clasping each other’s hand as they step together out of the boat on the shores of Aman and kneel to beg entrance of whoever serves as the Valar’s harbormaster, is beautiful regardless.
The Appendices after A become less narrative (although there’s still some interesting narrative stuff here). My guess is that I’ll have to combine them into a single post, since I doubt there will be enough to say about individual sections -- if I have to change course about that, though, I will. And starting in the next day or two, I’ll take on Jackson’s extended editions of the films, and we’ll see what I make of them -- the very last steps in this Pandemic LOTR journey. So, I’ll see you next in a post on Appendices B-F!