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Writer's picturemikeofthepalace

LotR Readalong - RotK, The Battle of the Pelennor Fields

“...when it is prophesied that no man can defeat me, I will keep in mind the increasing number of non-traditional gender roles.”

The trope is not new. It certainly goes back to Shakespeare at the least, with Macbeth taking a lot of comfort from the prophecy that “No man of woman born shall harm Macbeth” only to turn out that, whoops, Macduff wasn’t technically born, but rather delivered via c-section. But tropes ≠ cliches, and (speaking of tropes) if there’s anything out there that deserves the title “Crowning Moment of Awesome”, this would be it.


I am referring, of course, to Éowyn - with an assist from Merry - slaying the Witch-king of Angmar. Once again, I find that I don’t have all that much to say about one of the most iconic moments in the book, in fantasy, and in literature. So much has been said, and it largely speaks for itself.


I don’t have a lot to say for the chapter as a whole. It’s exciting. It’s sad. Asses are kicked. Aragorn manages to tip the scales, having used the Army of the Dead to rout the Corsairs at Pelargir so that the troops stuck south of the city are not only free to come to the defense of Minas Tirith, hey look, free boats! They can actually get there in time! This is not as hopeful as it looks at first glance: the good guys were able to win on the Pelennor Fields by bringing all of their forces to bear at the same place at the same time, which meant they had to bypass significant forces elsewhere and leave literal armies unfought. So as a long-term strategy, it’s got problems.


Further stray observations. Merry certainly proves Elrond isn’t omniscient, if he hadn’t already with the Ents. Merry also, of course, not being a Man either.


(To clarify: the prophecy (foreseen by Glorfindel, as it happens) was that “not by the hand of a man shall he fall.” It wasn’t that a man couldn’t kill the Witch-king, as lots of people seem to thing. Its that a man wouldn’t.)


Another detail Tolkien inserts that I love:

And behold! there lay his weapon, but the blade was smoking like a dry branch that has been thrust in a fire; and as he watched it, it writhed and withered and was consumed. So passed the sword of the Barrow-downs, work of Westernesse. But glad would he have been to know its fate who wrought it slowly long ago in the North-kingdom when the Dúnedain were young, and chief among their foes was the dread realm of Angmar and its sorcerer king. No other blade, not though mightier hands had wielded it, would have dealt that foe a wound so bitter, cleaving the undead flesh, breaking the spell that knit his unseen sinews to his will.

It always made me happy to picture some nameless Arnorian blacksmith, out wherever it is that the souls of Men go, hearing that his dagger had helped bring down the Witch-king and going like this. (Another aside: this is the first time I've had occasion to pull that meme up, and holy crap, that's Robert Redford? <squints> Well I'll be darned!)


Poor Snowmane. I always thought it was unfair that this was his epitaph:

Faithful servant yet master’s bane, Lightfoot’s foal, swift Snowmane.

I mean, I get that Snowmane panicked, and that Théoden was crushed beneath him, but calling him his “master’s bane” is unfair. It’s like earlier, when Faramir points that that Isildur was killed by Orc-arrows, but dismisses out of hand the notion that “Isildur’s Bane” could be referring to one. The Witch-king killed Théoden, not Snowmane.


I mentioned my general approval of giving Arwen the role of Glorfindel in the movie adaptation, because all she does in the books is sew a flag. Here’s where that line comes from:

upon the foremost ship a great standard broke, and the wind displayed it as she turned towards the Harlond. There flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that no lord had borne for years beyond count. And the stars flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought of gems by Arwen daughter of Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was wrought of mithril and gold.

And that’s pretty much it.



Next time, things between Denethor and Gandalf get a little heated in the Pyre of Denethor.

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