Faërie is a perilous land, and in it are pitfalls for the unwary and dungeons for the overbold…. …The realm of fairy-story is wide and deep and high and filled with many things: all manner of beasts and birds are found there; shoreless seas and stars uncounted; beauty that is an enchantment, and an ever-present peril; both joy and sorrow as sharp as swords. On Fairy Stories, J.R.R. Tolkien To the budding Tolkien scholar, doubtless one of the first concepts encountered is that of ‘faerie.’ It is, in Tolkien’s works, a nuanced, layered, and complex term, encapsulating and hinting at…
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Over the past few years, I’ve been working slowly (well, in fits and bursts) through a project that I’ve found really enriching and exciting – and, well, as of today it is complete. I’ve been recording my own readthrough of The Lord of the Rings. Complete, unabridged, unaided by…well, pretty much anything. And as of today, I have recorded and edited my very own LOTR. It’s been a project that’s hung over the last few years, and that has frankly been far more work than I ever would have guessed. To say that I’m proud and delighted is, frankly, a…
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This is a relatively short postscript to my recent post on Aragorn and the self-distance he consistently displays in his identifying with his “Strider” identity. In researching and preparing that post, I noticed a really small detail that’s previously escaped me. Right near the beginning of their conversation in the Prancing Pony, Strider offers to the hobbits that he may be able to tell them something to their advantage, and the following exchange takes place: ‘Several things,’ answered Strider. ‘But, of course, I have my price.’ ‘What do you mean?’ asked Frodo sharply. ‘Don’t be alarmed! I mean just this:…
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Once mighty were the weary bones that now groaned under gem-crusted hide. Aching creaking muscles rippled ‘neath wrinkled skin, and barely did the gaunt sinews still hold aloft ragged folded wing and venerable head. Drowsy eye drooped and haggard breath wheezed from snarling, half-open mouth, wherein lay deadly yellowing row of sickle-sharp jagged teeth. In sleep’s tender embrace slumbered that wicked and glorious tyrant, steam rising from his nostrils as the sun gazed in through the cavern’s mouth and danced heedless upon ruby-reddened body. In ruined hole he dwelt, once-grand echo of bygone glory. Cunning wrought were its mighty chambers…
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This is a relatively minor observation, but I’ve been fascinated for some time by Aragorn’s surprisingly clear self-delineation between “himself” and “Strider”. It is a relatively simple thing to see “Strider” as being but another alias for the Ranger, and it’s often treated as such by commenters on the story. Yet a close reading of how Aragorn himself speaks of Strider creates a strong impression (to me, at least) that Aragorn sees Strider as being a character…at least initially. Arguably, the most memorable indication of this separation comes during Aragorn’s rebuke to Boromir at the Council of Elrond, in which…
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