LOTR: An Elegy for the Past

(While you may enjoy the following blog without a detailed knowledge of J.R.R. Tolkien, Middle-Earth, or the Lord of the Rings trilogy, I wouldn't suggest reading this unless you have either 1) read the books or 2) seen the Peter Jackson movies based on them. Much of what I write about here won't make sense unless you are somewhat familiar with the story. Also, just so you know, there are some plot spoilers.)

"The world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air."

The words above appear, spoken by Treebeard, in the latter sections of Tolkien's novel The Return of the King. They could have just as easily appeared at the beginning of the first book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Fellowship of the Ring, because the idea expressed in them is really one of the central themes of the entire work. Peter Jackson, the director of the recent LOTR films, apparently realized this; consequently, he includes the expression at the beginning of the first film as a kind of voice-over preface to the film trilogy. Granted, Galadriel (Cate Blanchett) speaks the words in the film as a way of segueing into the backstory about the One Ring's creation, but it works just as well when she says it as it does when Treebeard says it in the book. The point is that someone from the ancient world, as both Galdriel the Elf and Treebeard the Ent are, makes it clear to the younger folk (men, dwarves, hobbits) that times, well, they are achangin' . . . and not necessarily for the better.

True, by the end of the series, the powers of good have triumphed over the powers of evil. The Dark Lord Sauron has been defeated, the traitor Saruman is dead, a new benevolent King (Aragorn) has returned to rule over the land, and Frodo and the other Hobbits can return safely to the Shire. But at what price has victory been won? What evils have been wrought by the defeat of EVIL? This is plainly a major concern for Tolkien who could have chosen to end his story right after the Ring is destroyed and Aragorn is crowned King. Instead, the story lingers on the breaking of the fellowship, the scouring of more evil from the Shire itself, and Frodo's departure from Middle-Earth with the great Elven lords. Tolkien's point may be that victory in arms is never so simple that all opposition can be cleared away within a matter of a few days. The later plot points, wherein the evil comes home to the Hobbits in a way it never has before, resonate more fully precisely because Tolkien doesn't shy away from them. In other words, leaving out the scouring of the Shire or Frodo's sailing to Valinor might have made for more entertaining reading, but the story as a whole would have lacked honesty. The honest truth is that the restoration of order is a messy affair and takes time.

Aside from this, there is also the destruction of much that was good in Middle-Earth along with much that was evil. With Sauron's defeat comes the loss of many beautiful things, like the reign of the Elves or the Rings of Power themselves. Tolkien suggests that the passing away of another age (the Third Age, to be exact) brings with it a new time full of hope and optimism, but it also brings with it the death of many older values that were once held dear. For these reasons, we are told, the time of the Elves is over and the Age of Men has begun. Over time, especially after the Third Age, one can also see that not only will Elves lose prominence in Middle-Earth but also Ents, Dwarves, Wizards, and even Hobbits. Sure, the Orcs and Goblins won't be much of a bother in the future, but what the Elves? Where do they fit into the picture? Not in Middle-Earth apparently. In short, the world has been cleansed of a great evil, but it also loses great good in the process.

How does this happen? Does it make sense? Well, unfortunately it makes perfect sense. The One Ring's fate is bound up with the fates of the other ruling rings crafted by Sauron. If you can recall, there were three made for the Elves, seven for the Dwarves, and nine for the race of Men. Their survival depends upon maintaining the power of the One Ring; it can survive if they are each destroyed, but they cannot survive if the One Ring loses power. This, in effect, means that the Elves lose most of their power in Middle-Earth when their rings, which depend upon the One Ring's power, cease to function after the Ring falls into the fires of Mount Doom. Yet already, at the beginning of the books, we see the Elves leaving Middle-Earth in large numbers, abandoning it to pursue the Undying lands of Valinor. Even before the destruction of the One Ring, it seems that the Elves are becoming increasingly aware that their time in Middle-Earth is running out. A new age, for better or for worse, is dawning. The Ring's destruction just seals the deal. The Elves must leave Middle-Earth under the control of Men.

Of course, by the time Tolkien's story takes place, Middle-Earth has already seen plenty of change. Numerous stories, poems, and songs are sung or told throughout the narrative that express the nature of the past ages of Middle-Earth, with its various heroes, warriors, villains, and ladies fair. Each narrative makes clear by the teller of these tales (whether it be Gandalf, Bilbo, Aragorn, Treebeard or otherwise) that although good usually triumphs over evil, there is a high price to pay for such victory. The Old Ages, complete with their good and their evil, have passed from this world and have left room for new stories, new problems, new dilemmas, and maybe even new hope to enter the scene. So change is hardly an unknown idea in Tolkien's world. After all, Numenor decays and is replaced by the realms of Gondor and Arnor which, eventually, also decay. All things pass away, and nothing remains. What's remarkable about the changes in Middle-Earth that we witness in the Lord of the Rings trilogy is that they are steadfast and binding. These changes cannot be undone.

After every age, in real life or in fiction, new times succeed the former. Sometimes we mistakenly believe that the past was only full of innocent, good times, but any accurate history book would tell us that this was simply not the case. The past was full of its fair share of atrocities and evil. Still, it seems to be true that as time goes by everything either alters or ceases to be. That's true of the good as well as the bad. So, while it may be true to say that much of what was great about the past is now gone, it's also accurate to say that much of what made the world a scary place has now ceased. Does this mean our own age is a better time? Or maybe we are worse off than our ancestors? Change suggests neither possibility. What change does express is that we have our own unique set of problems, dilemmas, and moral questions in this age and in any other. There is much that is good and beautiful about our world, and there is also much that is frightening and even evil. What's sad is that all the good cannot survive without all the bad. This is the nature of our world and Middle-Earth too: times change both for better and for worse.

Robin of the Hood

The Robin Hood stories, despite what a recent film would have you believe, are largely legendary. Like the stories of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table, these stories never happened, at least not in the way they have been imagined through the years. Granted, there may have been a real outlaw who served as the model for all the Robin Hood legends. His name was Robert Hod, but he certainly didn't live in Sherwood Forest or maintain a band of merry men.

The legend of Robin Hood has been passed down to us throughout the years in a form of poetry called the ballad. Ballads are kind of an early form of country-western music, a narrative that plays out with the aid of musical accompaniment, usually a guitar. Balladeers and bards, the practitioners of the ballad, would at first sing of Robin as a trickster-like figure who stole from the rich for his own delight and amusement. It wasn't until much later (1589) that Robin Hood became famous because he "tooke from rich to give the poore". Also, the merry men did not enter into the stories in their earliest forms, nor did the Maid Marion. And since ballads were transmitted orally, meaning that they were meant to be sung and not written down, nobody really could compare the various versions of the legend in a scholarly sense. As a result, each bard had his own way of telling the tale, complete with a particular villain, conflict, and theme that could alter (and often did) to suit the bard or his audience.

By the year 1400, a certain priest remarked that his parishioners would rather listen to a bard sing of "a tale or a song of Robyn Hood" than listen to one of his sermons. Thus was the growing appeal of the legend, and as the appeal grew, so did its cast of characters. Over time, Little John, Friar Tuck, Will Scarlet, Much the Miller's son, the Sheriff of Nottingham, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, and the Maid Marion were added to suit various purposes. By the sixteenth century, when Robin suddenly became a vigilante freedom-fighter rather than a trickster, the public decided he needed a love interest. The Maid Marion, in effect, was fashioned for him to woo and marry. It helped that she was a Norman aristocrat; her love for the Anglo-Saxon yeoman Robin gave his cause some legitimacy. Marrying the cousin of King Richard would practically make Robin Hood the legitimate ruler of his own people.

Speaking of Richard the Lionhearted, after he returned from the Crusades, the king discovered that his brother John had attempted to supplant him as king. Interestingly enough, Nottingham Castle and the powers-that-be who lived there were the most fervent supporters of John's attempt. So practically as soon as Richard returned home, he made his way to Nottingham Castle, set up some gallows, and executed those who were found guilty of treason. By the way, Prince John would eventually become king anyway, but it would be a few more years and, fittingly, after Richard's death. The most amusing part of this story, which is true by the way, is not the duplicity of John or the swift justice of the king or the fact that the action takes place mostly in Nottingham, the focal point of many Robin Hood legends. No, the interesting thing to me is that as soon as the garrison at Nottingham was surrendered back into Richard's hands, he promptly went off again to celebrate by hunting in Sherwood Forest. No record exists to show he met Robin Hood there. :)

Visiting Sherwood Forest must surely be an attraction for any tourists interested in Robin Hood sites. After all, Robin Hood is just as well known for the location of his hiding place as he is for his trickery and thievery. Indeed, his name "Hood" is medieval slang for the forest itself. Still, it should be pointed out that Robin's Sherwood is a legendary setting modeled after the real Sherwood but not exactly like it. Knowing this might save you some anxiety if you were, for instance, determined to match every single location in the forest with a plot point in the legends. Don't be disappointed; it just doesn't work like that.

Now, let's say a few things about how the legends of Robin Hood have been handled over the years. The medieval ballads were first written down in the nineteenth century, and as you can imagine, there were no two that were exact matches. Fortunately, you can easily access these ballads and read them for yourselves on the internet. The best place to look at them is at this site: www.boldoutlaw.com. The site even provides a medieval ballad tune to assist you in imagining what these songs would have sounded like when performed by a bard. Of course, ever since the ballads were first recorded in written form, numerous writers and storytellers have taken up the Robin Hood brand and made it their own, much like the King Arthur stories have been told and retold throughout the years. This pattern continued well into the twentieth century when Hollywood finally got its claws on the legend and has either done it justice or ripped it to shreds ever since (take your pick).

Other than the original ballads, probably my favorite written form of the legend was actually crafted by an American. Howard Pyle was a late nineteenth-century writer and illustrator who managed to capture the trickster qualities of Robin while also emphasizing his status as a beloved vigilante. Meanwhile, Pyle also produced drawings of the legends that look remarkably like original medieval woodcuttings. My parents gave me a copy of Pyle's book, The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, one year for Christmas. I have treasured it ever since. (Also of interest, Pyle's students included N.C. Wyeth and Jessie Wilcox Smith, world-famous illustrators themselves.) Check out this book because it is beautiful and so much fun to read. Reading Pyle is almost like being back in Sherwood with Robin Hood and Little John, honestly!

My favorite film version of the legend would have to be the Micheal Curtiz-directed, 1936 vehicle starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland: The Adventures of Robin Hood. If you have read my blog about 1066, then you know all about the Norman conquest. Well, the interesting thing about Curtiz's film is that the story plays out with the various conflicts between the Anglo-Saxons and the Normans surging in the background. It also includes Prince John as a delightfully effeminate villain played to perfection by Claude Rains, one of my favorite supporting actors of early Hollywood (see: Casablanca, Notorious, etc.). Add to that Basil Rathbone (aka Sherlock Holmes) as Sir Guy, and you have a seriously good swashbuckling time on your hands. This film is so saturated in wit, humor, pure joy, romance, and technicolor that it's virtually impossible not to be entertained by it. I show it to my students every year, and I'm always amazed that in this age when technology has advanced beyond our wildest dreams, an old classic movie about a man of the forest can still make my jaded students smile. Also, if you are interested in appealing to a younger audience, Disney's animated version of the legend is a surprisingly faithful adaptation, and the portrayal of Prince John in the film may have even been inspired by Rains' performance. My favorite thing about the Disney film is that it begins with narration that comes from, you guessed it, a rooster who also serves as a balladeer. In fact, the whole film is practically sung to the audience in ballad form. What a wise decision on the studio's part to remain faithful to the source of the legends and appeal to young audiences at the same time!

There are some serious historical inaccuracies in some other film versions of this legend. I liked the Kevin Costner version well enough when I was much younger, but now that I'm older it just annoys me that Costner is the only person in the film without an English accent. Couldn't they find an English actor to play the part? This unfortunate fact did lead to some good comedy though as Cary Elwes would later say in the Mel Brooks' film Robin Hood: Men in Tights, "Unlike some other Robin Hoods, I can speak . . . with a British accent!" Obviously, I am not the only one annoyed by Costner's lack of Englishness.

I don't really know if I want to see the new film starring Russell Crowe. In many ways, it looks like a very tiring and spiritless retread of material that should be buoyant and joyful. Also, I don't like how they've been advertising that this is the "true story of the epic outlaw". This is a legend, people! Does everything have to be a true story? I think not. I agree with Maxwell Scott, a character in John Ford's film The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, when he says, "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend." Who wouldn't prefer the lusty legend to the grim-faced reality of Russell Crowe any day?

1066: England Gets a New King and a New Language

I am not always a believer in memorizing dates. Does a person really need to know in what exact year William Shakespeare was born? Surely not, but it's best to have a general idea anyway. Still, despite the overwhelming evidence that suggests we who study history don't always need to know EXACTLY when certain events occurred, some years are undeniably important to know and commit to memory. 1776 is such a year in American history. 1939 is a good year to know in the history of Hollywood. And when it comes to the development of the English language, one year should always come to mind. That's right! It's 1066!

So what happened in 1066? Why was it such an important year in the history of our language? Let me tell you the story.

Once there was an Anglo-Saxon king living in present-day England whose name was Edward the Confessor. Edward died without an apparent heir to the throne, and as subsequent legends have claimed (we don't know the facts for certain), he named his brother-in-law Harold, Earl of Wessex, to be king after him. The news of Harold's ascension apparently disturbed a young nobleman living across the Channel in the French region of Normandy, one William the Bastard. Not one to let his unfortunate nickname get the better of him, William (aka "The Bastard") believed himself to be the rightful successor to the English throne although, according to some historians, his claim was rather dubious and more than a little disputable. Well, William challenged the claim nevertheless, gathered a substantial force of his kinsmen to sail with him to England, and prepared to royally thrash Harold and his Anglo-Saxon buddies.

In my opinion, Harold was not a wise man. Instead of waiting safely within the confines of London, he and his men rode down to meet the invading army of Normans at the seaside village of Hastings. If that is not proof enough that Harold didn't really think this through properly, then consider this perplexity. Instead of charging into battle on warhorses, Harold and men strode into battle on foot. Meanwhile, the Normans had successfully bred a warhorse, the destrier, that was compact and powerful enough to carry large men in armor and serve as a formidable cavalry. In short, The Bastard and his horse-warriors trampled the sore-footed Anglo-Saxons, and Harold died either from an arrow in the eye or not (we can't be sure).


So what does all this have to do with language? Well, if you haven't already figured this out, let me explain. William and all his buddies were French. This means they spoke French, right? As the ruling army, they then set themselves up as the aristocracy, proclaiming themselves earls, dukes, and in William's case, king. So as the new aristocracy, England's courtly language became French. Meanwhile, the poor peasant folk still spoke English, a very Germanic language compared to today's English. Essentially, this meant there were at least three languages being spoken in England at this time: English, French, and Latin, which was the language of the church. Over the years, this blending of languages would also mean the inclusion of new vocabulary words into English.

For instance, have you ever wondered why English has so many different words for one subject? Why is it that we refer to a large bovine creature in a field as a "cow" and yet when we serve it for dinner it becomes "beef"? Why does a "chicken" become "poultry"? How does "deer" turn into "venison"? The short (and less complicated) answer to this is that the peasants who raised the animals spoke English and therefore referred to the animals by their English names: cows, chickens, etc. The aristocrats who ate the meals after they were prepared referred to the animals by their French names: bouef (beef), poulet (poultry), etc.

Throughout history, the languages became to merge. English took some of the characteristics of the French language. According to J.R.R. Tolkien, creator of the Lord of the Rings, the Battle of Hastings was probably the greatest tragedy in the development of our language because it essentially meant the end of "uncorrupted" English. In other words, we no longer feel familiar with the language of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors because our subsequent language has been "frenchified" (not to be mistaken for "French-fried" language). As Tolkien explains, the Battle of Hastings brought an end to true English culture and obliterated any form of native mythology England may have possessed at one point. Tolkien makes a good argument. Very few literary scraps exist from the time of the Anglo-Saxons, the most significant of these being the epic poem Beowulf. Still, for anyone who has ever read Beowulf, you know that the poem has been significantly altered over time, giving it a decidedly Christian tone and morality to it that the original epic probably did not contain. Whatever the true nature of Anglo-Saxon mythology would have been, we can only guess.

Interestingly, things may have worked out for the best. Tolkien was apparently so upset about the loss of Anglo-Saxon culture that he set out to recreate it in the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. Indeed, the story of the Dragon Smaug is probably directly inspired by Beowulf's battle with a similar dragon. From what I read on "One Wiki to Rule Them All", an online Tolkien encyclopedia, it seems that Tolkien believed that his "fictional" world Middle-Earth (based on the Old English word "middangeard") was actually the present world as it existed about six thousand years ago. If this is true, it would, of course, set the events of his stories well before the time of the Anglo-Saxons, and yet the cultures Tolkien writes about in his books may have served as ancient precursors for the Angles, Saxons, and other Germanic tribes. In effect, Tolkien may have been theorizing about the beginnings of Anglo-Saxon culture and its mythology. (We'll speak more about this later!)

Aside from the obvious influence the Battle of Hastings had on Tolkien personally, 1066 was a significant year for other reasons. William, who became known as "The Conqueror" rather than "The Bastard" for the sake of better public relations, implemented the first really organized Feudal government of England and effectively unified it under one crown and one flag. Before this, England was largely a collective of little, independent kingdoms. After being the first British king to be coroneted at Westmister Abbey (where all later British monarchs have been crowned), William set the course of history that would eventually lead to the foundation of the British Empire, the American nation, the English language, and much of the modern world as we know it. Speaking specifically about language development once again, without the Norman invasion, English today wouldn't sound like the English we know. It would never have developed the way that it did. Our literature would look completely different. Chaucer would have written differently, as would Shakespeare. We might sound more German and less French.

1066 was also the last year England was successfully invaded by an outside force. Even the Nazis couldn't do what William did, which says a lot for him . . . even if he was a bastard.