I talked a bit about infodumps way back in “The Shadow of the Past,” but that chapter has nothing on this one. Beginning to end, it’s one giant discussion of the Ring, the state of the world, and what to do now. Most of the time authors try to avoid overt infodumps, and most of the time we readers like it that way.
And yet. Just like “The Shadow of the Past” is one of my favorite chapters precisely because of how much information Tolkien throws at us, well, let me just say that it’s not by chance that my dad’s battered old Fellowship paperback naturally falls open to the first page of this chapter.
(The page in question contains a typo: “‘That is the warning bell for the Council of Elrond,’ cried Gandolf.” No real point to mentioning this, but it’s my read-through and I’ll write what I want to.)
And despite how much information we get thrown at us, I’m still unsatisfied:
Not all that was spoken and debated in the Council need now be told. Much was said of events in the world outside, especially in the South, and in the wide lands east of the Mountains.
I want to know! Tell me, you tease! And then there’s this:
Then all listened while Elrond in his clear voice spoke of Sauron and the Rings of Power, and their forging in the Second Age of the world long ago. A part of his tale was known to some there, but the full tale to none, and many eyes were turned to Elrond in fear and wonder … Then through all the years that followed he traced the Ring; but since that history is elsewhere recounted, even as Elrond himself set it down in his books of lore, it is not here recalled. For it is a long tale, full of deeds great and terrible, and briefly though Elrond spoke, the sun rode up the sky, and the morning was passing ere he ceased.
Now as it happens I know much of this history - now. First time I read this chapter it drove me nuts. And I want to read it as told by Elrond, damn it!
Even with those abridgements by Tolkien, we still get a decent picture of what’s going on in the world. We hear about a messenger from Mordor (almost certainly one of the Nazgûl) who came to the Lonely Mountain, seeking information about “Baggins,” offering rewards for assistance and threats if denied. We hear about Balin’s expedition to Moria, and the years of ominous silence. We hear that the Men of Dale have also received messages from Mordor, and it’s possible they will yield. We hear about attacks upon the Elves of Mirkwood out of Dol Guldur. We hear about Gondor being hard pressed to maintain its hold over the Anduin, and we hear rumors that Rohan is paying tribute to Mordor. And more important than all of these, we hear about the treason of Saruman. It all adds up to a not particularly hopeful picture of the state of things.
Character-wise, though, the star of the Council is Boromir. He’s first introduced rather vaguely as “a man from the South,” but from the moment he speaks up about “the waning might of Gondor” he’s the most dynamic presence in the chapter.
(Movie aside: my favorite musical moment in the trilogy is when Boromir stands up and starts talking. There’s a single French horn softly playing the Gondor theme. Give it a watch sometime and you’ll see why I like it so much.)
He’s speaking up at nearly every turn. He shares the dream that inspired his journey (and, it should be noted, came a bunch to Faramir, only once to Boromir) about “seek for the sword that was broken.” He’s doubtful about Aragorn, but not scornful or overtly disbelieving. He is prideful as the son of the Steward, but still plainly at the least intrigued by the return of a King in Gondor. He questions why they can’t use the Ring, but accepts Elrond’s correction. His desperation to help Gondor comes through, but also his refusal to despair. He’s a powerful, determined presence.
In contrast to Gimli, who while present, doesn’t have a single word of dialogue.
I’m impressed with how thoroughly Tolkien lays out the strategy and the desperation. (Nearly every “Why didn’t they [X]?” question that gets asked on /r/lotr or /r/TolkienFans is addressed by the book.) The Free Peoples of Middle-earth have no hope of victory in arms, this chapter makes very clear. They can’t hide the Ring - Sauron will conquer even Rivendell eventually and claim it. They can’t send it to Valinor - they wouldn’t accept it, it belongs to Middle-earth. They can’t use it. Casting it into the Sea might keep it successfully hidden for a while, but Sauron will conquer them anyway. So the only option is the torpedo in the exhaust port of sending the Ring to Mount Doom.
One last point on that name. I’ve often enough seen people make comments along the lines of “Mount Doom? Really? Isn’t that a little on the nose?” As with everything in this book, the words used have had far, far more thought put into them than most people realize. The mountain was originally named “Orodruin” in Sindarin, which translates more or less as “fiery mountain.” When it erupted at the end of the Second Age, heralding Sauron’s attack upon Gondor, the Men of Gondor named it “Amon Amarth” (yes, like the Swedish heavy metal band), which translates as “Mount Doom.”
Except that “mountain of fate” or “mountain of destiny” is actually a better translation. Tolkien is using a somewhat archaic definition of “doom,” which didn’t necessarily carry with it the connotation of “terrible ending” so much as “something foreordained.” Fate or destiny, in other words. So why does Tolkien say “Mount Doom” instead of “Mountain of Fate”? Because “fate” and “destiny” are words with Latin roots, whereas “doom” is a Germanic word. As he was writing a very English story, or more specifically an Anglo-Saxon one, he sought to use Germanic words as much as he could, and avoid Latin ones. There’s a lot less Latin in LotR than in pretty much any other English text.
Monday, pack your sunscreen because the Ring Goes South.
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