LotR -- Book 5 - Chapter 03 - The Muster of Rohan

[Estelyn Telcontar]

The events of this chapter take place in Dunharrow. The Riders’ journey there is briefly told at the beginning, and its topography and appearance are described vividly. As usual, we experience things through the eyes of a Hobbit, in this case Merry.

His thoughts bring the readers in touch with the other members of the Fellowship near the beginning, and even remind us of Boromir later on when he sees Hirgon. He is the one who asks the readers’ questions about the Paths of the Dead. We feel his sense of being lost in events that are larger than life to him, though he is eager to take his place and be active. We can sympathize with his loneliness as a unique character in a strange land, attempting to understand a strange language.

What do you feel when you read of Théoden’s courageous set of mind? How do Éomer and the other Riders of Rohan impress you? What do you think of Éowyn’s emotional state of mind? Remember, we don’t yet ‘really’ know who Dernhelm is – did you recognize 'his' identity right away when you first read the book?

Brego shows up in this chapter, at least indirectly, and no – he’s not a horse! Is there any further information anywhere else on the old man who guarded the Door ?

What do you think of the significance of the Red Arrow?

We see how Gandalf has become more commanding in the preparations for war – “Gandalf spoke with great authority.”

There is another instance of Aragorn’s foresight in his request to Éowyn (told only indirectly in her conversation with Merry) to arm the Hobbit for battle. This is the beginning of their “partnership” – official at first, clandestine later on, and decisive in the end.

We haven’t had a poem in awhile! There’s one in alliterative verse here, actually recorded in advance, as it was made later. There are also several proverbs and sayings – just enough different from our own to make them sound strange though familiar.

The chapter closes very much like it began – with a brief description of the valley and mountains, but this time the Riders (and Merry) are leaving. It also closes in darkness, though it is day, and speaks of the loss of hope, not for the first or only time in the chapter.

[davem]

Now all roads were running together to the East to meet the coming of war and the onset of the Shadow.

I remember my first reading & I think the opening sentence of this chapter struck me most strongly. Its so ‘dynamic’ - for want of a better word. Suddenly things are moving. The ‘roads’ mentioned are obviously not actual roads so much as the ‘roads’ or paths that the people involved are on - these ‘roads’ are not so much being ‘followed’ as made. In a sense we are dealing with the Road -

‘Pursuing it with eager/weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths & errands meet,
And whither then, I cannot say.’

Many paths, many errands, many roads, because many individuals, all drawn together to meeet the coming of war & the onset of the Shadow.

Merry’s thoughts on this journey come across powerfully:

Merry looked out in wonder upon this strange country, of which he had heard many tales upon their long road. It was a skyless world, in which his eye, through dim gulfs of shadowy air, saw only ever-mounting slopes, great walls of stone behind great walls, and frowning precipices wreathed with mist. He sat for a moment half dreaming, listening to the noise of water, the whisper of dark trees, the crack of stone, and the vast waiting silence that brooded behind all sound. He loved mountains, or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from far away; but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth. He longed to shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire.

Why did he feel this way suddenly - this wasn’t the first time he had seen mountains? But its as though he has seen them for the first time, as though he has suddenly awakened to his own littleness in a very big world. Now, he is ‘borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth.’ & he wants to shut it out. This is a kind of ‘mystical’ experience - seeing through the surface & experiencing the world as it is. These are not ‘storybook’ mountains made up of words, they are hard, solid rock, & they are threatening to crush him.

Of course, Merry is prone to these kind of ‘mystical’ experiences - we recall his ‘dream’ in the Barrow:

'What in the name of wonder?' began Merry, feeling the golden circlet that had slipped over one eye. Then he stopped, and a shadow came over his face, and he closed his eyes. 'Of course, I remember!' he said. 'The men of Carn Dum came on us at night, and we were worsted. Ah! the spear in my heart!' He clutched at his breast. 'No! No!' he said, opening his eyes. 'What am I saying? I have been dreaming. Where did you get to, Frodo?'

& his encounter with the Black Riders at Bree, where he ‘thought he had fallen into deep water’. He has come on this journey for a reason - one maybe which he himself did not fullly understand at the start. He was (he probably believed this himself) the ‘practical’ one, the one who would organise things & make sure it all went well. But there was another Merry buried down deep inside him, & it is this other Merry who has suddenly awakened, just for a moment, & seen the world for what it is. Then, the ‘old’ Merry reasserts itself, & he wants to run away to somewhere safe. There seems to be this ‘conflict’ going on in Merry all through the story so far, the ‘rational’ in conflict with the ‘non-rational’. It will take a traumatic experience on the fields of the Pelennor to produce ‘synthesis’ from this ‘thesis vs antithesis’, & he will tell Pippin that he has realised that he can honour the ‘great’ (the ‘weight of Middle-earth’ no longer ‘insupportable’) but that it is best to love first what one is fitted to love.

Turning to Theoden, We see that he has seen & accepted his destiny:

'This journey is over, maybe,' said Theoden, 'but I have far yet to go. Last night the moon was full, and in the morning I shall ride to Edoras to the gathering of the Mark.'
'But if you would take my counsel,' said Eomer in a low voice, 'you would then return hither, until the war is over, lost or won.'
Theoden smiled. 'Nay, my son, for so I will call you, speak not the soft words of Wormtongue in my old ears!' He drew himself up and looked back at the long line of his men fading into the dusk behind. 'Long years in the space of days it seems since I rode west; but never will I lean on a staff again. If the war is lost, what good will be my hiding in the hills? And if it is won, what grief will it be, even if I fall, spending my last strength? But we will leave this now. Tonight I will lie in the Hold of Dunharrow. One evening of peace at least is left us. Let us ride on!'

He has also accepted the loss of his son. Now Eomer is to be his ‘son’ & heir. Even as he acknowledges that he will not come through the forthcoming battle, he is looking to the future of his people. There are echoes of the ending of Beowulf - for those who wish to see them - in Theoden’s acceptance of his doom (& in the manner of his death), but I don’t think it is necessary to have read Beowulf to understand Theoden’s state of mind. His companions love him & wish to protect him, but like many old people what he wants most is to be useful, to serve his people. He has accepted his coming death, & only wishes it to be a ‘good’ death. He can even talk easily about it, his thoughts only for others, not for himself:

]'Greatly changed he seemed to me since I saw him first in the king's house,' said Eowyn: 'grimmer, older. Fey I thought him, and like one whom the Dead call.'
'Maybe he was called,' said Theoden; 'and my heart tells me that I shall not see him again.

Moving on. We are told, almost in passing, about the people who had lived in this land before the Rohirrim came there. Little is known of them. Why, because their tales have been lost. Like that of Rohan, there’s was an oral culture. When their stories were forgotten, so were they. Only the stones mark their passing, show that once they existed:

At each turn of the road there were great standing stones that had been carved in the likeness of men, huge and clumsy-limbed, squatting cross-legged with their stumpy arms folded on fat bellies. Some in the wearing of the years had lost all features save the dark holes of their eyes that still stared sadly at the passers-by. The Riders hardly glanced at them. The Pukel-men they called them, and heeded them little: no power or terror was left in them; but Merry gazed at them with wonder and a feeling almost of pity, as they loomed up mournfully in the dusk.

How long before these carvings are worn away to lumps of stone, & then those lumps of stone to nothing? Even now, while they are still recognisable, the Riders pay no attention to them;

Such was the dark Dunharrow, the work of long-forgotten men. Their name was lost and no song or legend remembered it. For what purpose they had made this place, as a town or secret temple or a tomb of kings, none in Rohan could say. Here they laboured in the Dark Years, before ever a ship came to the western shores, or Gondor of the Dunedain was built; and now they had vanished, and only the old Pukel-men were left, still sitting at the turnings of the road.

[Lalwendë]

This chapter begins with a wonderful description of Harrowdale, and yet we have already been here with Aragorn and the Grey Company. It wasn't described to us that time. It is left to the character of Merry to see it for us. Tolkien often describes a new place to us through the eyes of a character, so did he 'save' this one for the more wondering eyes of Merry. Or does it fit more with his character to have him describe it? Maybe Aragorn has seen the place before, or maybe it is that Tolkien wished to impress upon us the haste of the Grey Company's passing and in so doing not linger on description.

This chapter is filled with references to the Rohirrim's love of tale and song. Merry has been in appropriate company on his journey to Harrowdale:

Then he had talked to Theoden, telling him about his home and the doings of the Shire-folk, or listening in turn to tales of the Mark and its mighty men of old.

He has had a good audience and his efforts in telling tales have been repaid by hearing some others in return. Only Pippin and Bilbo might have appreciated this chance to chatter more!

You shall sit beside me, as long as I remain in my own lands, and lighten my heart with tales.'
Room was made for the hobbit at the king's left hand, but no one called for any tale.

It also seems that meals are accompanied with tales and that they form a great part of entertainment in this culture. That nobody at first called for any tales at this point shows that they were subdued and did not wish for entertainment. But these tales also serve a more serious purpose as it seems that they are used to record history. When Merry asks about The Paths of the Dead, he is told about them by way of a tale, a spine chilling story. I wonder how many small children in Rohan had been told that tale before? It is no surprise that the people of Harrowdale have superstitions about the Dead riding out and put their lights out when they fear them.

He was on a road the like of which he had never seen before, a great work of men's hands in years beyond the reach of song.

At times some Rider would lift up his clear voice in stirring song, and Merry felt his heart leap, though he did not know what it was about.

and so without horn or harp or music of mens' voices the great ride into the East began with which the songs of Rohan were busy for many long lives of men thereafter.

When the Rohirrim are in a more pleasant or optimistic mood they sing, and it seems that when they ride off to fulfill their duties they also sing. This must serve not only as an entertainment and a way of recording history, but it must also raise the spirits, as Merry himself feels it even though he does not fully understand the words. That they do not sing as they ride off to Gondor speaks volumes about how they felt about the fate they were riding to meet. As though he does not want us as readers to also feel too disheartened, Tolkien here gives the game away a little by telling us that there would be people in Rohan to sing about this event afterwards, that they would not all be killed. Strangely enough, I don't recall noticing any of these little plot spoilers the first time I read LotR, it is only now, when I'm not carried away with the excitement of the plot that I notice them!

The Firienfeld men called it, a green mountain-field of grass and heath, high above the deep-delved courses of the Snowbourn, laid upon the lap of the great mountains behind

I like the name Firienfeld. The place is like an alpine meadow high up on the mountainside and the name of it is evocative of Switzerland - it even makes me think a little of the Heidi books! But the Firienfeld isn't entirely like one of those beautiful alpine meadows because it is the location of ancient and mysterious remains.

Dividing the upland into two there marched a double line of unshaped standing stones that dwindled into the dusk and vanished in the trees. Those who dared to follow that road came soon to the black Dimholt under Dwimorberg, and the menace of the pillar of stone, and the yawning shadow of the forbidden door.

Such was the dark Dunharrow, the work of long-forgotten men. Their name was lost and no song or legend remembered it. For what purpose they had made this place, as a town or secret temple or a tomb of kings, none in Rohan could say. Here they laboured in the Dark Years, before ever a ship came to the western shores, or Gondor of the Dunedain was built; and now they had vanished, and only the old Pukel-men were left, still sitting at the turnings of the road. Merry stared at the lines of marching stones: they were worn and black; some were leaning, some were fallen, some cracked or broken; they looked like rows of old and hungry teeth. He wondered what they could be, and he hoped that the king was not going to follow them into the darkness beyond.

This description often reminds me of Avebury somehow moved wholescale from its English Downs landscape to an alpine meadow. Avebury is a neolithic complex which includes not only a stone circle, but the West Kennet Avenue, which is around two miles long, a double line of stones marking a path from the Avebury stone circle to the Sanctuary, which according to archaeologist Aubrey Burl may once have been a charnel house or mortuary for the bones of the dead - was this the original purpose of the Paths of the Dead? In the same 'complex' is West Kennet Longbarrow which looks very much like the descriptions of the Dimholt Door.

This reminded me so much of the Avebury area that I decided to find out more, and it seems that Tolkien did indeed visit Avebury and gained some inspiration from it. This page I found has some photos of the Longbarrow and avenue, and it also has a picture of a tree which Tolkien is said to have admired and sat beneath. Some links I've found on t'internet also suggest that he may have sat there and written parts of LotR. He's a legend himself...

These remains must have been in use long before the Numenoreans came to the shores of Middle Earth, so the Oathbreakers must have taken possession of an existing place. I wonder were the original inhabitants still dwelling there or was it long abandoned? They may have been attracted to it as a dwelling place if it already had a reputation of being abandoned due to Men's fear of it. The Barrow Downs always intrigue me as a place as they are an echo of an ancient past of Men in Middle Earth, but we are given a 'back story' for them which ties in with what we know of Men. However, we are given no such back story for the remains at Dunharrow which makes them all the more enigmatic.

At each turn of the road there were great standing stones that had been carved in the likeness of men, huge and clumsy-limbed, squatting cross-legged with their stumpy arms folded on fat bellies. Some in the wearing of the years had lost all features save the dark holes of their eyes that still stared sadly at the passers-by. The Riders hardly glanced at them. The Pukel-men they called them, and heeded them little: no power or terror was left in them; but Merry gazed at them with wonder and a feeling almost of pity, as they loomed up mournfully in the dusk.

The Pukel-men always fascinate me too. I cannot place them within the idea of Avebury moved to an alpine meadow, but they are reminiscent of the Woses who we will meet later on. I'm sure I'm not the first to wonder if the Woses aren't the remnants of the culture which built the stone avenue, the Paths of the Dead and the Pukel Men.

I like how they are decribed as now not instilling fear in Men, as they do not sound intimidating to me either; they are quite Buddha-like. But Merry also feels pity when he sees them which is strange. perhaps that is like our own sad feelings when we see ancient ruins and wonder what they might have been like in their splendour. Maybe he is also a little sad for the loss of the culture which built them, an echo from the past?

On the threshold sat an old man, aged beyond guess of years; tall and kingly he had been, but now he was withered as an old stone. Indeed for stone they took him, for he moved not, and he said no word, until they sought to pass him by and enter. And then a voice came out of him, as it were out of the ground, and to their amaze it spoke in the western tongue: The way is shut.

'Then they halted and looked at him and saw that he lived still; but he did not look at them. The way is shut, his voice said again. It was made by those who are Dead, and the Dead keep it, until the time comes. The way is shut.
'And when will that time be?' said Baldor. But no answer did he ever get. For the old man died in that hour and fell upon his face; and no other tidings of the ancient dwellers in the mountains have our folk ever learned.

Here is another mystery. Could this old man have been kin to the Oathbreakers? He is not one of the Woses' kin as he is clearly described as once having been noble, which must still be apparent in his appearance. He also uses the common speech. Maybe he was a Numenorean who used his long life to wait by the door until such time as someone who could take his story away would appear (which by this time is only a warning as he is obviously a dying man). He has an important function as he is the gatekeeper to an underworld place, and eerily his voice seems to have issued from the ground itself. It is interesting how the Rohirrim, who so obviously love tales and legends, have made him more mysterious by presenting him as a gatekeeper; the story is so good in the telling that the truth may have been very different.

He loved mountains, or he had loved the thought of them marching on the edge of stories brought from far away; but now he was borne down by the insupportable weight of Middle-earth. He longed to shut out the immensity in a quiet room by a fire.

This is how Merry feels at the beginning of the chapter, his fear and his pressure presented in a remarkable image. But this is also about us as readers. We loved the thought of mountains marching on the edge of stories, maybe even got excited about them like Bilbo, but now we have seen innumerable mountains and a great deal of Middle earth too. It has been a lot to take in by this point in the story, and there is yet more to come.

[Lhunardawen]

Originally Posted by Esty

What do you think of Éowyn’s emotional state of mind? Remember, we don’t yet ‘really’ know who Dernhelm is – did you recognize 'his' identity right away when you first read the book?

She is obviously very upset to the point of being potentially suicidal. As I have said in the previous thread, she has taken Aragorn's leaving and the thought of him dying too hard, and I would hazard that right at that moment she was thinking of following him - not to the Paths of the Dead but to the death that seems to be about to welcome him.

'All is well,' she answered; yet it seemed to Merry that her voice belied her, and he would have thought that she had been weeping, if that could be believed of one so stern of face.

Merry has no idea what had just happened to her, so I understand his doubts. But the mere fact that he suspected this - when he didn't know her very well - makes us think that maybe she has indeed been weeping.

Notice that she mentions the words "he is gone" three times. Repeating something implies emphasis and importance, and apparently Eowyn considers Aragorn's loss a big deal, not just in relation to the impending war but also to herself, personally. To me it seemed that she is saying, "He is gone, and soon I will be as well."

I particularly find this interestingly ironic:

'Greatly changed he seemed to me since I saw him first in the king's house,' said Eowyn: 'grimmer, older. Fey I thought him, and like one whom the Dead call.'

and later

He [Merry] caught the glint of clear grey eyes; and then he shivered, for it suddenly came to him that it was the face of one without hope who goes in search of death.

For some reason, I knew right away that this man is actually Eowyn. She sees that the one she loves is about to die, loses hope because of it and so goes searching for the same end. That cannot be emphasized enough.

Although if it is any consolation, it means to say that Aragorn really is an effective leader, for a big part of leadership is influence. That, or Eowyn is really just crazily in love with him.

More later.

[davem]

Then Eowyn rose up. 'Come now, Meriadoc!' she said. 'I will show you the gear that I have prepared for you.' They went out together. 'This request only did Aragorn make to me,' said Eowyn, as they passed among the tents, 'that you should be armed for battle. I have granted it, as I could. For my heart tells me that you will need such gear ere the end.'

I don’t know whether this is true ‘foresight’ on Eowyn’s part, yet it seems to be. If we take Merry’s later perception of her as ‘one who goes in search of death’ then maybe this is similar to Halbarad’s foresght that his death lay beyond the Paths of the Dead. Of course, it could simply be that she is reaching out, in her despair & loneliness, to one she considers to be a kindred spirit.

What she eventually achieves could not have been achieved without Merry’s aid. In fact, it could be said that (as Tolkien originally intended her fate to be) that if she hadn’t taken him along, she would have died on the Pelennor Fields. It is only this reaching out, this compassion for a fellow sufferer, that ensured her survival - another example of the way a selfless act can bring benefit.

The difference between them is that while Merry also wants to go to the battle, he is not looking to perish there - though it seems he expects to. When he looks into ‘Dernhelm’s’ face & sees there the desire for death he ‘shivers’. This desire for death terrifies him. It also seems to inspire in him pity & horror, rather than a feeling of ‘kinship’. Does Eowyn understand Merry’s desire to fight, hoping against hope that he will come through, or does she think he too desires death? Their relationship is a ‘strange’ one, to say the least. Merry seems to have an insight into her state which she does not have into his, yet only together can the two of them defeat the Witch King.

I don’t want to go too deeply into later events here, but I wonder exactly how deep Eowyn’s desire for death actually goes. Certainly, she doesn’t simply want to die - she could just slash her wrists or hang herself if that was all she desired. Oddly, it is her desire to ‘die’ that inspires her to act, to move, & not simply curl up into a ball & waste away in despair. It seems, almost, that her desire for ‘death’ is what finally makes her do something, makes her take control of her life & act. Its almost as if before she wanted to die she was unable to truly live. Its as if she didn’t truly seek her own death - much as she may have thought she did: what she truly sought was the ‘death’ of her old self. Deep down, all unawares, it seems what she wanted was to live, to be fullly & completely alive. Maybe this is what she saw & responded to in Merry. At the very least, I think it accounts for her ‘change of heart’ when she met Faramir. He was what she had wanted all along, but, not believing he (& what he ‘symbolised’) could exist, she latched onto the only alternative she could concieve. When it comes to the test, standing over Theoden & facing the Witch King, she makes an instinctive choice to live - ie, when she is faced with ‘Death’ (‘Do you not know Death when you see it’ he asks Gandalf) she defies it & ultimately ‘kills’ it. Yes, it is only with Merry’s aid that she dispatches the Witch King, but it is she herself who ‘kills’ what he symbolises for her - the false Death, despair & meaninglessness that has obsessed her for so long.

It is in the encounter with Aragorn that she is forced to confront this growing obsession/possession of her true self, but only by, in a sense, surrendering to it, that she can pass through it & come to the ‘Light’ beyond.

Back to Merry. His perception of Eowyn’s state shows yet again that he is no ‘ordinary’ Hobbit - he can look into a person’s eyes & see their ‘soul’. The more we see of Merry (if we pay attention) the more complex a character he becomes.

Aside: the ‘song of Rohan’ is a later interpolation. This raises all kinds of questions about what was contemporary to the story & what was added later - & who by. Who put the song into the Red Book, when, & what for? We come back to the ‘Translator conceit’ again. Is this the only example of such a later ‘addition’ ? What about the ‘spontaneous’ song of Aragorn & Legolas at Boromir’s funeral? Were other verses ‘tided up’, so that what we have were the final ‘approved’ versions of the songs. It may seem a petty point, but no-one in the story ‘umms & ahhs’, stumbles over their words, etc. In fact, whenever anyone is expected to say something meaningful &/or profound they do so. This verse & the account of its presence at that point in the story, rather than in an appendix, is in many ways another reference to the way life can be seen as a ‘story’, & I can’t help but recall the final line from the movie ‘The Man who shot Liberty Valance’: ‘When the legend becomes fact, print the legend!’ The interpolation of this verse at once heightens the emotional impact of the episode, & at the same time confirms that we are not reading ‘reportage’. What we actually have is the legend of the War of the Ring set down for us, in a translation of a translation (to what degree?) of a lost original. This, I think, was Tolkien’s intention, & a ‘conceit’ he did not want us to forget.

Oh, & finally, I just have to say that this verse contains one of the lines in the whoole of LotR that always reduces me to tears:

Six thousand spears to Sunlending.

[Lalwendë]

Since readin Lhunardawen's post, I've been thinking about this line:

'Greatly changed he seemed to me since I saw him first in the king's house,' said Eowyn: 'grimmer, older. Fey I thought him, and like one whom the Dead call.'

Fey struck me as an odd word, and it always has, as it is very similar to Fae, from Faerie. It also always brings to mind Morgan Le Fay, conjouring up a beautiful yet terrifying image. But looking up the etymology of Fey I found this:

"of excitement that presages death," from O.E. fæge "doomed to die," also "timid;" and/or from O.N. feigr, both from P.Gmc. *faigjo- (cf. M.Du. vege, M.H.G. veige "doomed," also "timid," Ger. feige "cowardly"). Preserved in Scottish. Sense of "displaying unearthly qualities" and "disordered in the mind (like one about to die)" led to modern ironic sense of "affected."

What is interesting in how Tolkien has Eowyn deliver this description is that he has her define the meaning of the word. That's not something a skilled writer would normally do, so perhaps here his scholarly interest was making an interjection, underlining the definition he wanted us to use. Fey can also mean 'affected' as it says above, which has different connotations. I wonder was he making a distinction allowing for the changing use of language?

[Lhunardawen]

Originally Posted by davem

Certainly, she doesn't simply want to die - she could just slash her wrists or hang herself if that was all she desired.

That would be too uncharacteristic of her to do. After everything she had declared to Aragorn about her being a shieldwoman, choosing that manner of death would be like an insult to herself. If she were to die, she wanted to die the way Aragorn will. Maybe at least in that way she thought they could be together. Which brings me to wonder...did she expect to see Aragorn again in the battlefield at all, a potential driving force behind her action?

Originally Posted by davem

Oddly, it is her desire to 'die' that inspires her to act, to move, & not simply curl up into a ball & waste away in despair. It seems, almost, that her desire for 'death' is what finally makes her do something, makes her take control of her life & act. Its almost as if before she wanted to die she was unable to truly live. Its as if she didn't truly seek her own death - much as she may have thought she did: what she truly sought was the 'death' of her old self. Deep down, all unawares, it seems what she wanted was to live, to be fullly & completely alive. Maybe this is what she saw & responded to in Merry.

Ironically, as she goes 'searching for death,' she gives life to another. Merry, when discharged from Theoden's service and told to stay behind, had died - he had nothing left to live for. All his original companions are gone. There was nothing he could do for his part in the War, when all his friends are involved in some way. He was 'dead,' not living but merely existing. And then this person who goes in search of death gives him life by taking him on 'his' horse. Dernhelm thought he was helping a fellow 'death-searcher' but in actuality they are both on the road to a life that is really lived.

Confound this rep rule, but I just want to say that those thoughts are really good.