Eowyn's Healing Story

One of the things I don't like about the movie adaptations for The Lord of the Rings is their portrayal of Arwen. They moved too far from the distant, courtly love Tolkien portrays. In fact, the books include more about Sam and Rosie Cotton's love story than they do Aragorn and Arwen's. Arwen is always there in the background of everything Aragorn does--but she's not physically there much or even spoken of much. Thank goodness the filmmakers at least didn't go with their original idea to have Arwen join the battle at Helm's Deep. I always felt like, if they want a warrior woman, they have Eowyn--and yet they cut her story short.

Now I've realized why they may have truncated Eowyn's story. Of course I've always considered the practical reasons. The Return of the King already has multiple endings. So if you take the time to go on a tangent about Eowyn in the Houses of Healing and talking with Faramir and the two of them falling in love, it definitely shifts the focus from the march on the gates of Mordor and the final destruction of the Ring. I get why that's problematic to do in a movie. But I hadn't realized there may have been another reason.

Modern audiences love Eowyn's heroic stand. It's said that no man can kill the leader of the Nazgul, to which Eowyn replies, "I am no man," as she thrusts her sword into his formless skull. And everyone cheers for girl power. But that isn't really how Tolkien wrote the scene. Technically, yes, Eowyn points out that she's a woman and therefore she can do what no man can do. But you see, Eowyn went into battle not simply to "fight for those she loves." She went seeking death. When the Ringwraith tells her that he will kill her if she gets between him and Theoden's body, she isn't hindered not just because of her courage (which is notably great) but also because she wants death. That's why she laughs when she answers him; she's in what you might call a fey mood. She's motivated to protect the dignity of her dead uncle and king, yes, but she's also motivated to put everything on the line because she has no hope for her life and doesn't want to live anymore. That is what drives Eowyn into battle.

Breathing the "black breath" from the Ringwraiths puts both Eowyn and Merry into the Houses of Healing. But while Merry heals pretty quickly with typical hobbit resilience, Eowyn falters. Her physical wounds heal, but she can't find complete healing because her spirit was already broken before she even entered that battle field. Through her conversations with Faramir, Eowyn is able to see hope again. Agreeing to become his wife, she declares that she will be a shield maiden no more and instead love healing and all things that grow. Eowyn figuratively lays down her sword for classically feminine pursuits of nourishment and growth. It's a beautiful healing story. I haven't always liked Eowyn's character that much (Galadriel's my favorite), but I always come to like her more and more when I look at her healing story.

But how would that have looked in the film? (I'm not even addressing the deleted, extended edition scene because it just shows a brief look at Eowyn and Faramir falling in love. It's pretty, but it doesn't actually cover any real ground.) How could the audience have cheered at warrior Eowyn and then accepted her healing story of laying down her sword? Eowyn picks up her sword out of depression and hopelessness, not girl power. That's why she no longer desires battle once she finds healing in her spirit and moves out of that depression and desire for death. 

The Eowyn that Tolkien wrote isn't really a twist on classic femininity. Quite the opposite. Throughout the course of her emotional journey, we see Eowyn lose touch with her femininity in part due to Aragorn's lack of interest in her, and then we see her return to fully take on her femininity in the Houses of Healing. If you like classic femininity as I do, it's beautiful. If you don't, well, you can see why the movie would choose to focus on Eowyn's triumph in battle rather than on her healing story. 

The Comitatus in The Hobbit vs. TLOTR

While The Fellowship of the Ring contains a classic portrayal of the comitatus (in which a king/lord/ring giver has a group of warriors who swear fealty to him and to whom he gives gifts of treasure and such in return for their service and the feats they perform), I recently rewatched both the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit trilogies and found something surprising.

I'll emphasize that I'm talking about the movies specifically, not the books. And it is beyond easy to say that The Lord of the Rings is a far superior movie trilogy to The Hobbit. But let's move on to our topic. I found while watching An Unexpected Journey that I seemed to be seeing a better representation of the comitatus than in The Fellowship of the Ring. Why would that be? 

I would be remiss not to give brief mention to the fact that I've watched TLOTR much more than The Hobbit, so sometimes there is the simple fact of familiarity: you can "get the feels" less when you've watched something many, many times versus only a couple of times. Practically, also, the audience gets to spend more time with Thorin's company than with the fellowship of the Ring. Thorin's company comes together at the beginning of the movie. They also stay together through the second movie and most of the third (though I'm primarily concerned here with the first movie). The fellowship, by contrast, doesn't form until midway through the movie. And then they break apart at the end. So you do literally have more time to observe Thorin's company. (For the sake of clarity, I'll say company to refer to The Hobbit and fellowship to refer to TLOTR.)

Then there is the question of quest. While we understand that the fellowship is setting out to destroy the Ring together and that Frodo is the ring bearer, as far as the fellowship is concerned Gandalf is more their leader than Frodo is. Aragorn and Boromir sort of vie for second in command, if you will. They have all sworn to protect Frodo on his quest, but Frodo has nothing to promise them in return and has only the hope that they will indeed lead and protect him as they promise. 

By contrast, Thorin is undoubtedly the leader of his company. By blood, he is the king of his people and his quest is to reclaim his throne and his city for his people. In return for the loyalty of his company, he promises them each a share of the treasure. This sounds, in its simplest form, more like the ring giver of the comitatus than Frodo the ring bearer does. 

And we see that loyalty at play, most particularly in the way that Balin describes his admiration of Thorin in battle and in Bilbo's personal journey towards becoming part of the company. Bilbo is afraid of this adventure in a more real world way than any of the fear that we see in The Lord of the Rings. The characters there are afraid of what is happening and afraid of failure and evil and hurt and loss and death. But Bilbo is afraid like we would be to suddenly be in a place where such things are commonplace--and that specific type of fear is emphasized very much in the movie. We see his speechless, shocked fear when he almost falls off the mountain's edge. But then at the end, we see Bilbo as the only one of the company who steps out against an unbeatable foe to protect Thorin. His loyalty overcomes his fear. He has found a leader he wants to follow. 

Both groups have a great musical score or theme. But as a viewer, I feel like the company's theme goes through more of a journey than does the fellowship's. We hear the fellowship's theme as we see the group coming up through a rocky mountain path after departing from Rivendell. It's a great moment, and I'm not denying that--but the theme is already fully formed and powerful. We're excited just because we see the fellowship. Compare Thorin's company. First we hear theme sing a somber song in Bag End; they sing of distant lands, gold, and death. We hear the theme repeated throughout, but most significantly and most strongly at that final moment when the dwarves are inspired by Bilbo's bold, brave loyalty and rush out to protect Thorin in an impossible situation. The theme comes to mean not just the group but also the personal choices they make to serve their leader even at the expense of their own safety. 

So as far as the feels go, Thorin's company gives me more of the feeling of the comitatus than does the fellowship. Like I said, The Lord of the Rings is undoubtedly the better trilogy, but the portrayal of the comitatus is one of the things that The Hobbit does quite excellently. 

Gollum's Song

I don't sing. But when I was around middle school to high school, there was one song I would sing in the car with my family. It was "Gollum's Song" by Emiliana Torrini from the soundtrack for The Two Towers. And you know what else? At that time when I was very much into The Lord of the Rings, of all of the characters, the one that I felt like I related to most was Gollum.

On the one hand, I think I was mainly considering my own shortcomings. But on the other hand, there was probably something else that I didn't quiet realize. Gollum is the isolated character, longing for satisfaction. He just wants to go sit in his cave with his precious. That's all. But it's this all-consuming, draining longing. Now that I think about it again from years later, it makes sense that such a character would be relatable to a 12-13 year old having trouble finding a place in the social circles. 

Nowadays I like more to relate to Galadriel. And you know what, she has more in common with Gollum than you might think. She also hides away in Lothlorien, as if it's a cave of her own. (Granted, Galadriel was also an adventurer in her youth, making the trip from Valinor to Middle-earth, and she remains a sort of activist involved in the goings on of the world.) She has a bit of a hermit quality, too. But in a good way. She made Lothlorien and she married Celeborn and they have a life there together and she's the keeper of one of the Rings and she uses it to create a little light in an ever-darkening world. She is, too, a hospitable host and shelterer of weary travelers. So from her one little spot, she has a great and positive influence. She takes who she is and what she has and she uses it. 

"I wish none of this had happened. I wish the Ring had never even come to me," said Frodo; to which Gandalf replied, "So do I. And so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." 

Repeating Tolkien

Did any of you have braces? Do you remember those long visits sitting in the chair while they worked in your mouth? Maybe now people pass the time with earbuds, but earbuds were just barely starting to become a thing when I was in the orthodontist's chair. So I used to pass the time by reciting Tolkien verses in my head.

The Lord of the Rings is full of verses. I had memorized most of the ones in the first book, which definitely has the greatest number of them. The one about Amroth and Nimrodel was a favorite: its simple structure made it easy. Beren and Luthien was quite beautiful, though the stanzas were a bit more complicated. Earendil was rough. Four pages of long stanzas, plus more complicated words (I didn't even know how to pronounce habergeon, so that made it more difficult to memorize). 

Now I just remember snatches, specific lines. And some of the shorter pieces, like the verses about the Ring. It makes me rather sad to know that I spent all that time memorizing and now have forgotten most of it--though I'm sure I would have a head start of familiarity of I did begin anew.

And you know, I rather miss it. My mind was young and eager that I would memorize words just for the fun of it. Maybe it's time I started stretching my mind again, whether it's to memorize Tolkien or other things, too. It would perhaps be nice in quiet, waiting moments to have some words to repeat in my head to pass the time. 

Reflections on Watching TLOTR Again

The Lord of the Rings was my escape in middle school. The light/dark theme and the extremely detailed fantasy made it the perfect story to contemplate during that time. I could simultaneously escape into it and also gain hope. I would read over those books again and again and I'd watch the movies again and again and there was always so much to hold my mind.

I just finished rewatching the movies for the first time in at least three years. What used to take three nights took me about a month, splitting each movie into two separate nights and scattering the six nights. And wow, I can see why I loved that story so much.

"I wish none of this had happened. I wish the Ring had never even come to me." "So do I. And so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." Possibly misquoting Frodo and Gandalf talking there in The Fellowship of the Ring. I always liked that quote, and it stood out to me again. When something happens to you that you really do not like, when you must face something that you really do not want to face, there is no preventing it except by actively causing something much worse. So you must simply do the best at what is before you. It's simple and yet heartbreaking.

I always felt Frodo's struggles with the Ring--Gollum's, too. (Which makes more sense than you might first think when you consider that, in a literary sense, Frodo and Gollum are almost the same character--but that's another topic.) Life can be hard, eh?

And the Shire is beautiful and so is Rivendell and even Mount Doom is in a certain sense. And Galadriel is the best; I want to be Galadriel. But in college, I also came to really love Eowyn's healing story (which of course is only barely touched on in the films, and then only in the Extended Edition, but still). Her healing story is especially comforting to me right now.

New things I observed on watching again after years? The battle scenes are really hard to watch. I'm reminded why The Fellowship of the Ring is my favorite movie of the three: it has the least fighting. Granted, they're good battle scenes, but battles in books just take a few pages, whereas in movies they tend to take up the majority of the minutes. And it's growing more and more difficult for me to watch violent images. I can't really take it anymore.

So that's why I prefer Gandalf and Frodo sitting in the dark in Moria talking about the metaphorical battle between good and evil versus literally watching the good soldiers fight the bad soldiers. Good versus evil. Light and dark. My head continues to swirl with it.

Eowyn & Jyn: Haunted Warriors

Eowyn of The Lord of the Rings and Jyn of Rogue One both come from similar circumstances and share many character traits and a similar character arc. Both characters live in a time of war and both are essentially orphans. Jyn is raised from a young age without her parents, and Eowyn's parents are both dead.

Who raises them instead? A father figure, Saw Gerrera in Jyn's case and her uncle King Theoden in Eowyn's case. Interestingly, both of these father figures deteriorate in some way before the eyes of their "daughters." Saw becomes increasingly paranoid and questionable in his rebellion tactics, all of which makes Jyn uncomfortable to watch or take part in. Theoden basically falls into an uncaring lethargy that makes him unable to care for his land and his people--and this would presumably hurt Eowyn especially because she is someone who wants to be able to do more to fight for her people than she is allowed to do.

This brings us to the wartime traits of both women. Saw trained Jyn because he knew that she would need to be able to take care of herself in order to survive. So Jyn in skilled both in various types of combat and in battle tactics. I don't see that Jyn likes battle, but she does like being successful and skilled at combat; especially when she is young, she gets excited to see what she is capable of. Eowyn is also skilled--but she loves war. At least, she thinks she does (before she actually takes part in it). Eowyn loves the idea that she comes from a people who are skilled in battle, and she relishes the idea that she shares that skill. She believes that this makes her mightier.

Jyn is the rebel, but in fact Eowyn is much more rebellious than Jyn. Eowyn disguises herself behind a cloak to go with the men of Rohan to aid Gondor. She doesn't ask anyone's permission (because she knows she won't get it); she just goes. But Eowyn, contrary to how she is sometimes pictured, goes with a taste for death (which I'll get to later). Basically Eowyn leaves saying, I don't care how things are supposed to be done, this is what I want to do, so I'll do it. Jyn, on the other hand, is more forced by circumstances to take part in war. Jyn hates war because she sees what it does to people and how it ruins lives. You could say she's more mature than Eowyn in that regard. However, Jyn does still have a streak of defiance to her. Simply consider her defiance of war. She doesn't want to be part of the Empire or the Rebellion after seeing all of the questionable things that Saw was doing and causing. So she tries to just escape it all and stay under the radar (which, of course, she unable to do for long). Like Eowyn, Jyn isn't the type of person to let anyone tell her what to do.

Now we come to the broken part of these two characters. They're both, at a certain point, unable to care about anything anymore. Not in the nonchalant sense of, oh, you can't hurt me with your words, all of that bounces off of me. Not like that. I mean that they literally can't bring themselves to care about anything. They're broken. You could probably say that they're both depressed, specifically by circumstances. Jyn basically feels like she has nothing left to live for. She's lost both her parents, she believes that her father has betrayed her, Saw Gerrera failed her, and she's constantly on the run. To her, the Rebellion causes more pain than it fixes. And so her own life hardly seems worth it anymore. Eowyn, as well, goes riding toward Gondor with too much of a fixation on death. She wanted to be with Aragorn because she wanted to be high and mighty, and now she sees nothing of worth left in her life, so she thinks that losing herself in battle is her only option now. Both characters are done with the mess that is life.

For two characters who are praised for being inspirational, they're in very dark places. I think people tend to gloss over this darkness in favor of bland statements about "strong women."

However. Both Jyn and Eowyn find peace, and therein lies the inspiration.

When Eowyn takes part in battle, she discovers something she didn't go seeking. That is, she begins to discover it. Truly, her journey toward peace happens in the Houses of Healing, specifically during her time spent with Faramir. In battle, Eowyn sees death in reality--and sees that it is not poetic and grand. It is sad. She's still restless at first in the Houses of Healing, but with time she's able to let go of that restless spirit, that sense of discontent, and that desire for war. She tells Faramir that she will no longer be a shield maiden; instead, she will delight in all things that grow and are alive. She trades death for life. Now, Eowyn's happy ending can make Jyn's look rather bleak. However, Jyn's is just as happy, in a certain sense of the word. Jyn has been haunted since she was a child. When she leads the Rogue One mission, she has finally found something she is willing to fight for and a team that she is willing to stand with. She is able to die knowing that she has made the right choice, a choice that will make a positive difference, and that she has found a home. Jyn has been homeless for a long time by this point, so finding a home and family means everything to her.

I also want to note that Cassian and Faramir are quite similar: they're both gentle-natured people who are born into a wartime setting and are very good at making their way in war. Because they're skilled warriors Eowyn and Jyn respect them, and because their personalities are not traditional warrior types (you can imagine them both being very content during peacetime) they're able to help bring these two haunted characters towards peace.

TLOTR on Stage, or in a Book

How can someone become obsessed with a musical they've never actually seen? Quite easily, apparently.

Back around 2007 or 2008 or somewhere around there, I was pretty obsessed with The Lord of the Rings Stage Production (I call it a musical usually, but even though it had music and songs, it wasn't exactly called a musical). I would watch the official clips on YouTube, trying to imagine how they all fit in together and to picture what it would be like to watch from the audience. Eventually I bought the soundtrack (at least that was available to me), and I've continued to return to it, usually having to listen to almost every track (even when I had thought to just listen to one or two).

Those songs have stayed living in my head over the years, and I never gave up on the possibility of seeing the production live: there was talk about a world tour in 2015. But 2015 came and went and there was no world tour (I'd been hoping they'd do a stop in LA that I would be able to go over for); I think the rumor is that funding held them back (it was a pretty expensive production, and one with large sets and a crazy stage that would be difficult to move around).

I did, however, get the next best thing. I got the companion book. I'd been wanting it for some time, and finally when I got a gift card for Christmas, I knew what I had to spend it on. So much time has passed that unless you want to spend lots of money, you have to get the book secondhand--but I was able to get a nice copy that's as good as new. So I'm very thankful.

It's quite a nice book, too. A sturdy hardcover, it's designed to look like leather, with the production's blue logo up on front. There are lots of pictures, too, which was one of the major draws for me. I took my time staring at them all (which is one of the reasons why it took me so long to get through this book), and they filled in gaps of missing scenes that I had never seen from the video clips.

The way the book is divided up, there is a lot of space in the beginning devoted to the technical side of trying to get a production started. While all of this was interesting, I have to admit that it dragged on a bit long to me--especially since I was reading this book to try and get an idea of what the show was like. So I wanted to hear more about the plot than about how they found the producers (usually I want to hear less about the plot and more about the making of, but this was a special situation).

That said, the degree of detail that this book goes into in a mere 150 pages was something. I'm less familiar with how stage productions are put together (I read more about movies), so this was all interesting to learn about. And the commentary on the music was one of my favorite things to go through: this production had such a specific musical style that's quite unlike anything else. Then there is all of the talk about that amazing moving stage, the stilts and such, the lighting, the costumes, etc. What a show this was. I regret even more now that I never had the chance to see it.

Yet this book let me almost pretend that I got to see the show. I saw so many more images of it ("Is that what the balrog looked like? It's terrifying," I thought as I turned the page to see the creature of flame and shadow), so many more glimpses into the imagery. Even from still images, I got an idea of movement, of what the choreography was like and what the lighting was like (wow, the Fords of Rivendell must've looked amazing). And all through it all, the songs I long ago memorized were playing in my head. I'm in awe all over again, and I'm transported all over again.

(BTW - It is a testament to the hard work of the team that brought this show together that I hardly ever thought of the movies while reading this book. I know they tried very much to distinguish themselves from the movies [which weren't out yet when they started early work on the show but came out as the production was moving along], and I think they succeeded in creating their own unique interpretation of Tolkien.)

 

Food in Fiction

I love reading about food and looking at food, and I know I'm not alone. Eating can be nice but it can also be a chore (didn't I just finish washing the dishes and now I'm hungry again?), but thinking about  food is simply wonderful. And sometimes it's fiction that makes you think of or crave a certain kind of food. TV shows where the characters are always drinking orange juice or books with a killer description of pumpkin pie, for instance. Here are just a few examples.

1) I Dream of Jeannie: coffee, maybe with toast and (turkey) bacon - Seriously, they're always drinking coffee in this show, and even though an episode says that Major Nelson drinks his with "a little bit of sugar and a little bit of cream," all the coffee always looks black--which makes it look even more crave-able and coffee-like. It was this show that made me start drinking coffee to begin with and to this day I generally prefer it black (and weak . . . ). With the coffee is often toast, like in that delightful bit when Roger is on the phone in the morning while putting jelly on little triangles of toast--oh, that scene makes me want toast so bad that I often do cut toast into little triangles just to make it mimic this scene. They also tend to eat bacon with their coffee; my choice is turkey bacon, and pair it with toast triangles and black coffee and it's like I'm straight in the show.

2) Becoming Earnest: cucumber sandwiches - I don't know where I first heard about cucumber sandwiches, but I was always enchanted by the idea (people don't really eat cucumber sandwiches here and now) and tried to see how thin I could slice cucumbers to make some. So, naturally, all the mentions of cucumber sandwiches and how so and so loves them so much that they must have some for so and so's visit except that what's-his-name eats all of them before she can arrive just made me want go back to my old craving. Care to join me in a tea shop for some lovely little sandwiches with cucumber slices inside?

3) The Chronicles of Narnia: pretty much everything - C.S. Lewis explained that he liked reading about food and therefore knew that children would, as well, so he fills this series with descriptions of food. They're always eating--even the descriptions of the dirt the trees eat at the end of Prince Caspian are tempting. In particular, though, I'd say these books make me crave scrambled eggs--or "buttered eggs," as they're described at one point, making the younger me wonder at what point the butter was added to the eggs. Then there's the infamous fresh fish with the marmalade roll for dessert that the Pevensies have with the Beavers in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe; that food is almost heavenly. A lot of fruits in there, too, like the apples in Prince Caspian and a great variety in The Horse and his Boy. And let's not forget the Turkish delight, which I tried specifically because it was in Narnia (Americans don't eat Turkish delight and when they rarely might come across it, most of them think it is very weird, which is of course completely irrational). In fact, I picked up some very nice Turkish delight at Ross earlier this year (later I found a different kind there that was okay but nowhere near as good as the first).

4) The Lord of the Rings: bread and meat - Tolkien describes plenty of food, but I think his descriptions of landscape are generally richer than his descriptions of food, due not in small part to the fact that his characters are off on journeys where they really can't get their hands on much good food. Where he is most vivid, though, is in describing not food exactly but the craving of food--namely, plain bread and meat, which Frodo and Sam crave on their journey to Mount Doom when they have run out of everything except for the lembas bread. It makes you really appreciate a good loaf with a nice crust from your local bakery (if you have a good local bakery, please support it: good bread is one of the wonders of life), and good meat without too much done to it that's just cooked well.

5) Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory: candy and chocolate and soda and anything sweet - Okay, let's just go for it. I haven't really read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and I'm not fond of the Johnny Depp version, but that original movie is just full of the sweetness. The way that a single chocolate candy bar is so special to Charlie makes you think of how much you enjoyed candy as a child, and the factory makes me think of how much I still love candy stores. I once watched this movie while eating a melted 100 gram bar of chocolate out of a mug with a spoon. Now I just want someone to bring me a bucket full of Smarties--and maybe a few lollipops, too.

Beauty & Battle

Tolkien created a wonderful thing in Middle-earth. He created a world so complete in every detail of mythology, history, culture, art, and geography. The different peoples he created differ from each other in just the right ways and are also so distinctly apart from our own world, even where there are parallels. Lately I've been noticing a certain duplicity in most of the Middle-earth cultures that is interesting to consider. I call it beauty and battle.

Most of the cultures of Middle-earth (at least, the ones that you would consider to be "cultures," not orcs or goblins or such) value beauty, though they each have their own ideas about what beauty is. The elves love trees and harmony with nature, flowing lines and radiant colors. The dwarves value the precious stones they mine from within the earth and the vast cities they carve out of stone. Men differ, depending on region and time period, but whether we're speaking of Númenor or Rohan or Gondor, they all have a certain adherence to style and form. Architecture as a form of art and a specific type of raiment, whether for daily use or for important or ceremonial positions, is important to all of these cultures. It makes them seem very high that they value beauty and art so much.

But they are also peoples of war. The elves have a complicated history with war. Some of them fought with each other, some of them only fought the evil foes, and some of them try and stay out of it all except when they have no choice. But elves are good at battle. Dwarves are pretty good, too, and they tend to value their warrior status pretty highly, too. Men, I think, are warriors more out of necessity. The men of Gondor (and Aragorn's scattered people) value many other things besides war but fight because there are foes, and so they try to make themselves good at war so that they will not lose. They are not savages, but still they fight.

Beauty and battle. The highest, aesthetic appreciation and the most base of actions. Beauty and battle. Do they fight to protect beauty, or do they create beauty because they must also fight? What is beautiful (and here I speak of more than just architecture) is worth protecting, and when one is forced to take part in war one likes to have something beautiful to think of and remember. Beauty and battle--they are both intelligent and efficient and they both have a profound impact on people's lives.

Doctor Gandalf Who?

Even in the realms of fantasy and sic-fi, there are only so many people like him. Some characters have some of his traits, but few have all.

He is the wanderer, the the great one who is doomed to walk forever across the world without stopping for himself. He brings chaos in his wake, but he also rescues so many, saves so many, and keeps even greater negative forces at bay. He walks alone, in the end; yet he also makes friends along the way, friends who begin to understand who he is even if they can only share in part of his adventures. He can fit himself into any situation in any place: he can be regal or rustic, show off his intelligence or feign dim-wittedness, whatever is necessary. He usually thinks he is always right because he usually is right--but because he is so often right and so often great, when he falls he falls all the harder. Yet he can fall right into death and still return to the land of the living.

He is the Grey Pilgrim, Mithrandir; he is Gandalf. He is the Doctor.

Think about it. There are other characters who are outsiders, who pass by just long enough to save a few lives or the town or whatever it may be. There are characters who can be both serious and jolly. But what other characters share so many traits as Gandalf and the Doctor do? I have to keep pondering this: I really can't think of any more.

It is true that Gandalf is not the only wizard in Middle-earth. But the blue wizards are hardly spoken of, Radagast only makes a brief appearance (ha, ha, ha, Sylvester McCoy, who is the wizard doctor), and even Saruman becomes separate from Gandalf when he turns to evil. Saruman can also be like the Master. The Doctor wasn't always alone--and then, later, he finds that he is alone except for the Master, who always has so many evil plans. But perhaps the Doctor has more sentiment than Gandalf does. Gandalf's interest in hobbits is not so unlike the Doctor's interest in his companions, yet the Doctor always feels he has a connection to the Master just because they are all that's left of the Time Lords. Gandalf has no such loyalty to Saruman; he is only interested in keeping Middle-earth safe.

Wow, Doctor Who has really reawakened my character comparisons. But I think it says something that the comparisons are often of very valuable or well-crafted stories. If a story has powerful characters, that story will stick around, as both Doctor Who and The Lord of the Rings have done. These two characters have remained so memorable because they give us hope, not just the hope that the world can be made better but also the hope of living a simple day and enjoying it just for being itself.

Let the Ring Go

Since I don't think I'll be able to watch the final installment of The Hobbit until after Christmas, I am much consoled because The Hillywood Show's newest parody also came out yesterday. That's right, they've finally realized their dream to do The Lord of the Rings. Like their Pirates of the Caribbean Parody last year came full circle because they used to work a lot with Jack Sparrow's character, the LOTR parody also finishes things off: before they ever started the show, Hilly and Hannah put together a big production of LOTR over months. Now they get to come back to the trilogy with more resources and their current parody approach.

The Lord of the Rings is hard because it has so many characters, costumes, sets, and scenes. I had no idea how they would approach it, so I didn't even guess at much beforehand. Now that the video is out, it's very smart. Taking the tune from "Let It Go" from Frozen and rewriting the lyrics to come from Sam's perspective (mostly in Mordor) narrows the field while also getting right at the heart of the story. Sam is the main focus of LOTR the way that Darth Vader is the main focus of the original Star Wars trilogy: he's the one who helps make happen the events that really need to happen. So it makes absolute sense to focus on Sam. 

On the first watch, this video reminded me somewhat of Hillywood's Breaking Dawn (Part 1) Parody (which remains their most-viewed parody). There is humor, some parodying, but also a love of the material. That's a winning combination that is also very Hillywood. It's silly to combine Frozen with Middle-earth, yet the combination also works so perfectly to express the theme of letting go of what drags you down, of what you do not need. Bartok's appearance as Gollum is hilariously lovely, and everywhere there is such detail in costumes and other visuals. Hilly as Sam and Hannah as Frodo both gave great performances; there is such momentum in this parody. It's reliving what's important about this story--in a light and wonderful way. 

There is one 45 minute behind the scenes video, with another (I'm guessing shorter) one on the way. After watching the behind the scenes, go back and watch the parody again. And again. And then again, for good measure. Then make your friends watch it. Ah, I love The Hillywood Show.

The Coming of the Rains

The rains have come. We call it monsoon season. It means that even if there are hours in a day with broad sunlight, there are also hours with clouds upon clouds. And in the afternoon or evening, there is rain. Sometimes there is a patch of sky with the brightest summer sunlight, and deep dark clouds right beside it. Sometimes it's sunny while it's raining. Sometimes the sky pours out like an overturned bucket, so hard, so briefly, and then the sun comes back out and pretends like nothing happened.

It's raining now. The morning was half cloudy, around a hundred degrees, kinda nice out. At lunch, I saw the clouds gathering more solidly on the horizon. Now they are covering the sky in white-grey, the thunder is pounding, the trees are swaying in the wind, and the rain is falling at a thick and steady pace. I'm hoping the power doesn't go out. The power tends to go out almost daily during monsoon season. It's just a question of when and for how long.

I'm thinking of rain in fiction. In the badly animated version of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe that I grew up with, it's raining when the Pevensies are at the professor's house (well, it is in the book, too, but it's more visual in the movie). Rain there represents boredom--but also what drives them to try something new: playing indoors is what drives them all to the wardrobe and to Narnia.

In The Lion King, rain is the soothing cleansing that ushers in healing and a new day. Rain washes away the hurts of Scar's reign and feeds the plants so that everything can grow and blossom again. Because of rain, the land can turn lush once more and its people (or animals, as the case may be) can feel alive again.

But what if we combined both of these examples? Let's go to The Fellowship of the Ring. It is raining while the hobbits are staying at Tom Bombadil's house, and I think that rain always helped to enhance the dreamlike state of their time there. It's like the rain creates its own world that it encloses you into. (Goodness. There was just a very loud crack of thunder and this lightning is flashing like the lights at a pop rock concert. And that bolt looked like it was just a small walk from my window. It probably was.) The hobbits do find healing from this rain: it represents a period of rest from their journey. But it also has a quietness, like in the Narnia example--and it is also a kind of gateway. After passing Tom Bombadil's house, they reach Bree and the lands outside of the Shire, which might as well be a different world to them.

Maybe rain represents passage into somewhere new because rain itself is a traveler. It travels from the sky, down through the air, to the earth. From there it rises up again, lingers in the clouds, and comes back down. It's always on the move, always going to a new place, always seeing something new.

March Favorites

1) The Lord of the Rings Elven Leaf Brooch - Do you know for how long I've been fascinated with leaf jewelry because of this brooch? Do you know for how long the idea of having the actual piece from Weta was simply a fantasy? At long, long last, I have this beautiful brooch in my possession, complete with its little bag made of the same wool material as the cloaks in the movie. Although, naturally, I prefer the brooch as a pin, it comes with a silver chain so that you can also wear it as a necklace--which does make it easier to wear more often.

2) Grantham Breakfast Blend Tea - It isn't that I'm obsessed with Downton Abbey; it's just that, once I started collecting the show's teas, I couldn't stop. My latest addition is a blend of black tea and ginger. The label suggests adding milk, and I do find that I like it better with a splash of almond to mellow out the ginger some. I do, however, generally like it more as an afternoon or mid-morning tea than as a breakfast one.

3) Bracelets - Now that Spring is here and I'm in short sleeves much of the time, I'm trying to remember to adorn my wrists. My handy bracelet holder is an old copper candlestick I didn't have any other use for. You can see some of my beaded bracelets, green and brown leather, wooden, and the Hillywood Show one on top.

4) Doctor Who - I shouldn't be allowed to investigate anymore franchises. I really shouldn't. I don't know how much more capacity I have: every time I get into something, I have to really get into it. I made my way through the new seasons; now I'm on the classic episodes. I seem to have acquired two books, one DVD, and too many packs of Jammie Dodgers (I had never even heard of these before, then I saw them at World Market just at the time when I was watching Matt Smith's doctor bring them into the script at every turn).

5) Antonio Melani Vest - I wear a vest now. Vests are cool. No, you know I've liked vests for a long time; it's just that the vest I have, while it's the best I was able to find for a long time, has a looser fit than what I ideally wanted (probably because it's a size big). So imagine my joy at casually finding a size 0, black, Antonio Melani vest on the sale rack. Perfection. Side note: I am always amused that my two favorite Dillard's brands are Antonio Melani and Chelsea & Violent (M.S.S.P is also good)--and I frequently wear them together. I've worn this vest, for instance, over my green lace dress.

6) Cholula Hot Sauce - There was a time when I was eating tortilla chips and hot sauce every day. I would just crave the flavors and never want to stop; it was good snacking for moving through classwork.  Now I have rediscovered why this hot sauce was my favorite. Valentino and Tabasco and everything else, they just don't taste the same. To each their own.

7) Antonio Melani Flip-Flops - I've resigned myself to getting a new pair of medium-quality, plain sandals for daily use during the warmer months (aka. about half the year). Starfish aren't my favorite, but the gold color is neutral and I found these on sale a few months ago when last summer was winding down, so they work.

8) The Illustrated Jane Eyre - I stalked this copy of one of my two favorite books (the other being The Lord of the Rings, of course) for a while, trying to decide whether or not I liked Dame Darcy's illustrations. Now I suppose I've decided that I find their gothic turbulence compelling and partially fascinating, whether or not I like the style. You don't have to know whether or not you like something to like looking at it, right? And it had been a while since I'd picked up another edition of Jane Eyre.

9) Tocca Florence Soap - Since Florence is my choice of Tocca perfumes, I also ended up with the Tocca Florence soap at some point. Its leafy, golden wrapping is beautiful, as is the mermaid design on the soap mold. While the scent is more perfumey than the perfume itself, the soap is so silky soft and smooth that I think I do forgive it.

10) Tootsie Fruit Rolls - I turned away from these in the Christmas aisle a couple months ago, so I couldn't resist them again among the Easter candies. You don't usually see the fruit version of Tootsie Rolls, and yet I find them such an interesting candy. Vanilla is the best flavor, then cherry. Even orange, lime, and lemon are nice. They all have the perfect blend of artificial flavorings that they just taste like whimsy and nostalgia. These and Smarties are like the best candies ever. I'm so strange.

Radagast & Tom Bombadil

It has always seemed to me that the omission of Tom Bombadil from Peter Jackson's movies is one of the least-minded changes. Out of all the characters in The Lord of the Rings, he is the one who, intentionally, fits in least with the rest. He's a great character and his section is in fact very moving in the book--but he's hard to imagine onscreen. Bright blue jacket, yellow boots, and singing half-random songs all the time? Yeah, maybe it's better to leave him out of the movie and leave him to imagination.

Going through Weta's books on the adaptations of The Hobbit, I noticed something about the way the teams were describing their treatment of Radagast the Brown. Radagast, as you know, is barely described by Tolkien, but they made him a fully-developed character for the movies. So many of the people who helped design Radagast said they really loved his character, and while some moviegoers liked him, others called him a great mistake. Someone even called him the Jar Jar Binks of this franchise.

I don't know. I'm mostly neutral to how they dealt with Radagast, given that Tolkien really didn't describe him much and also given that The Hobbit, stylistically, is a children's story where The Lord of the Rings isn't. But then the similarity between Peter Jackson's Radagast and Tom Bombadil struck me. Radagast has the bird nest in his hat instead of blue boots and he talks to animals instead of wandering the woods singing, but do you see the similarity in eccentricity? Both characters' eccentric traits are, further, connected to their relationship with nature. Both characters exist in nature instead of in society, and that is why they develop habits that outsiders find odd.

While the movies for The Lord of the Rings kept out the odd Tom Bombadil, The Hobbit brought in the odd Radagast. And I find that interesting.

The Dwarves & Nuclear Warfare

Given the lovely and disappointing (but not entirely unexpected--though it really ought to have won in Visual Effects at least, I think) lack of Oscar wins The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey had this weekend, let's take this moment to return to Tolkien with a bit of pondering.

That's the thing about texts that you read fairly early on but continue to return to: you discover new things about them and wonder whether, if you were reading the text for the first time now, such "discoveries" would in fact be obvious from the start.

My latest "discovery" is a possible connection between the dwarves and nuclear warfare. Of course, I am labeling this under Tolkien's phrase of "applicability" rather than anything else. And this isn't so much a plot concern of The Hobbit specifically. What I'm thinking of is Moria, but also other stories about the dwarves that I've half forgotten.

You see, I keep an outline of themes my professor for the Lord of the Rings class a couple years ago gave us. One of the categories is about effects on Nature, where the dwarves had a corrupt influence when they dug too deep into Moria. Digging (not necessarily literal) too deep into Nature for self-centered ends and unleashing dark terrors? Nuclear warfare, anyone? Perhaps I'm also making this connection because I just read Ceremony for the second time, which is all about harmony with Nature and touches slightly on the nuclear side of things.

That's interesting.

The Hobbit: as Rich & Complex as Tolkien

Let's get one thing straight: this movie is all about intertexuality and the ethos of the myth. Got that? Alrighty, then.

In many regards, The Hobbit is amazing. It's about as flawless as a movie can be and gives further confirmation that Tolkien is safe in Peter Jackson's hands.

We all knew that he wasn't setting out to create only the experience of reading The Hobbit before Tolkien's other Middle-Earth writings. In a way, there's little need to do so. If the movie comes after The Lord of the Rings, why pretend otherwise? The beauty of Peter Jackson's approach is that what he does cinematically is much like what Tolkien does on page.

Tolkien's writing (in general, not referring specifically to The Hobbit) is dense. I've loaned people The Lord of the Rings only to have them return it to me unfinished. Although Tolkien now gets literary recognition (which has actually happened fairly quickly, if you consider how long it sometimes takes other books to become "classics"), it's also safe to say his style isn't for everyone. Peter Jackson is able to put these movies together as richly dense concoctions, as well. Occasionally, yes, I felt like the movie was dragging just a bit (it is rather long), but isn't that what reading Tolkien is like, too? Sure, we love the professor for his complexity, but you have to admit that that complexity results in a multi-faceted experience. Just like PJ's movies.

Because think about it this way: Tolkien was constantly rewriting his work. He wanted to rewrite The Hobbit after The Lord of the Rings was published, but his editors stopped that idea. So if we consider The Hobbit as an unchangeable text, we are doing what Tolkien himself did not do. This goes along with what I said yesterday about the different versions of the story Bilbo tells--you can read that post here (and I was exactly right in my prediction, I might add).

Peter Jackson and Co. did drastically change the text of the published book The Hobbit. But there is reasoning behind every single change.

What this movie was to me was an additional story set against the backdrop of Middle Earth, telling more about its characters and its peoples. If The Lord of the Rings is about Men and The Silmarillion about Elves, The Hobbit is about dwarves. This culture that was only somewhat alluded to in the original trilogy becomes more detailed and characterized in this movie, in much the same way that readers of The Lord of the Rings come to learn more about dwarves when they go on to read the Appendices. We also hear more about Gandalf's early investigation of the Necromancer, who is of course Sauron regaining strength. While all this detail isn't necessarily needed for the story of The Lord of the Rings, it is another aspect of this world that it is nice to be able to see. The complexity of including this miniature plot line mirrors Tolkien's constant rendering of Middle Earth as a vast, complete world with a rich history and mythology. Plot lines do interact, which is why no one reads The Silmarillion before The Lord of the Rings (and many people never read it at all), but going on to read The Silmarillion will further illuminate aspects of The Lord of the Rings. You see what I'm getting at by "intertexuality?"

Moving on. The casting of Martin Freeman was great: he portrayed both the silly, sort of cute, little Bilbo who is nothing but a hobbit out of his hole. But he also hinted at Bilbo's journey, his discovery of courage and the friendships he makes while he is away from the Shire. And Gollum. Goodness, Gollum. Any minor CG shortcomings the first time were solved: that's Gollum onscreen, not any fabrication. His skin and the way his mouth moves are amazingly well-rendered. And, yes, once again Andy Serkis did what no one else would be able to do with the character: "Riddles in the Dark" was every bit as creepy and delightful as it is on page. The CG was also probably the best I've seen on other aspects of the movie: the Goblin king, the Wargs, the trolls, the glimpse at Smaug, and am I missing anything?

Which leads us into discussing this movie visually. It was a visual feast, as even critics admit. Stunning, absolutely stunning. Like in the original trilogy, sets and locations are expertly designed and well chosen. The camera becomes a personality of itself, weaving in and around scenes and treating your eye to the best sights and angles. Cinematography works harmoniously with the 3D and .... the 48fps. Yes, I saw the movie in HFR 3D, and I don't know what people are talking about in saying that they just couldn't get used to it. Is it a generation gap? I don't know. And I realize that in order to properly analyze the 48fps, I would have to see the movie at a regular frame rate, too. But as it is, all I felt was that the frame rate enhanced the 3D element, smoothing out the visuals and all the movement of action or otherwise quick paced shots. It really was like looking through a window at the scenes--and how can I have a problem with that? What's wrong with being taken right into Middle Earth? Once again, the cinematography of this movie was stunning and beautiful. Not just what was framed in the shots, but the way the camera moved. And doesn't it make sense for visuals to be such a large part of the movie when descriptions are such a large part of Tolkien's writing?

This movie took all the chances and opportunities it could, which is why I think it is necessary to understand and admit what is going on in it from a literary standpoint. The critics aren't all keen about it because they say it stretched a children's book too far   But the reality is more complex. This movie, this trilogy, isn't intended to be just The Hobbit the children's book; it is a further look at the world of Middle Earth, framed around Thorin's and Bilbo's stories. It set out to achieve a certain effect, and it succeeded.

Peter Jackson Should Direct Beowulf

My professor keeps making one-liner references to The Hobbit during lectures; the cool people in the class respond with a mix of titters. Then I try and bring my mind back to the subject at hand, not necessarily on to Tolkien.

So with all this Hobbit-ness in the air right now, it seems the time to bring up an idea I had I don't even know when. It may have been last month or last year; just don't ask. Despite what complaints purists (and not just the most pure purists, either) can make about Peter Jackson's handling thus far of Tolkien, it's hard to imagine anyone doing a better job than he has done. It's a big job, and the fact that he is able to do, on the whole, a pretty decent job is something.

There is another text, one with which Tolkien the scholar and reader was very familiar, which seems also to be difficult to bring to film: Beowulf. It must be difficult because there are piles of versions of it and most of them are either bad or bizarre or both; even if they are reasonable adaptations once you start analyzing things, they're still hard to accept. But: WWPJD? Aren't you curious? If Peter Jackson got his hands on Beowulf, I think we could be sure that the result would at least be of interest. He strives for authenticity and balanced storytelling; this would be perfect for Beowulf.

He would have locations, sets, costumes, armor (naturally I would want WETA to come along for the fun), effects, and language all down. And he would get familiar enough with the story to have reasoning behind every script and directorial decision, never forgetting a chosen interpretation of theme. Plus, you know people would watch it. The connection to Tolkien and to Tolkien plot elements would be enough to bring people in; the movie would (I think) be enough to make them glad they did.

Latest Hobbit Trailer Reaction

You know, I'm not entirely sure it will matter what kind of an adaptation from the book The Hobbit is. I think all that's going to matter, really, is how well the audience is swept out of their seats at the theatre. I Peter Jackson delivers us a movie that does this, who is going to sit and whine about differences from the book? A select few.

This brings up so many questions of what an adaptation should aim to do. So many questions that it would take chapters and chapters to fully explore the idea.

But it's hard to feel so terribly about The Hobbit after the latest trailer. It looks well put together, well thought out. You have characterization, sets, action, drama, storytelling, and thought. I've never felt like I have seen enough of Martin Freeman's Bilbo to form an opinion, but simply the way he was walking around in the Unexpected Party scenes was so very like Bilbo. And Gollum, goodness, goodness, won't that be the best scene in the movie? (As many consider it in the book.) But why the sudden "sexy Galadriel" shot, the Gandalf/Galadrielness--it's almost even worse than the short shot that was in the first trailer. I understand you have to market all angles, but why? It's just so very wrong to hint at Gandalf/Galadrielness. Let's just hope this hinting is limited to the trailer--otherwise we know how Gandalf gets his broken arm at the end of the story: not from the Battle of Five Armies but from Celeborn.

Two and a half more months. (Hmm, I also have a final the day this movie comes out--I hope I'm not too distracted testing in the afternoon after watching in the morning.)

The Hobbits Come Marching Three By Three

I think you must have heard the ridiculous news by now.

It wasn't enough for The Hobbit to be split into two movies; no, there was enough footage that there are now going to be three movies. From one book, one children's book (after all, The Lord of the Rings isn't a children's book, and Tolkien saw it as an epic in six parts--but it only got three movies--albeit before the studio knew how successful those movies would be).

But, you know, I probably find that it makes more sense to make three movies out of The Hobbit than two out of Breaking Dawn (in case anyone has forgotten, I do like those books--I'm not just carelessly bashing them). And everything gets made into two movies these days, so much so that I wonder if it's becoming greater than studios wanting to make more money: it's shifting the way writers and directors are able to work with a book to movie transition and what audiences are coming to expect from such a transition. If The Fellowship of the Ring had had two movies, we wouldn't have lightly forgiven the absence of Tom Bombadil, as we can with just one movie.

And we do know that Peter Jackson is including things in this, sigh, trilogy that aren't just from the one book--he's also pulling things out of the Appendices. I have no idea how much, but even a small amount could have a big effect.

What does worry me, though, is that The Hobbit is like a miniature epic to The Lord of the Rings; if, however, it gets much more screen time (and budget) than TLOTR, that'll mess with its simpler nature (it certainly still has things to study and things beneath the surface, but still).

Kaleb Nation (YouTuber and author of the Bran Hambric series) put together a nicely-stated reaction to the situation for his 60SR show, which you can view here.

Josh Groban: Favorite Songs

It's been long enough since I first heard his music that Josh Groban's voice is as familiar to me as if he were an actual acquaintance. And while I'm still a fairly loyal fan, I also am quick to say that his second studio album, Closer, is still my favorite--the last two were more pop, less crossover. He did always say that his music was pop, but I guess I didn't believe him until later.

One of the things that makes Closer so nice is the amount of songs in other languages: they have a mellifluousness English doesn't always have (but does it really have as much greater a percentage of other languages as I think?). That also gives a degree of exoticism, if that's the right word. Around the time I was first hearing this album, I happened also to be reading The Lord of the Rings for the first time, so some of the songs took on a Middle-Earth feel. "Mi Mancherai," to this day, reminds me of Elves and Rivendell, however ridiculous that comparison is. "Oceano" and "Si Volvieras A Mi" are so beautiful and encapsulating that they are worlds of their own, so why not Middle-Earth-like worlds?

But the funny thing is that I usually cite two songs as my favorites of his, and both of them are in English. They are "Never Let Go" and "Now or Never." They also sound a bit similar, don't they? Very atmospheric again, with a certain type of vocals (sorry I can't explain that part more--I'm not a musical person). They both tell a story, but one where you are left to fill in the details. The lyrics of the first song could in fact very easily fit into The Lord of the Rings: they're about holding on, about strength from love (not necessarily any specific kind of love), fate, paths and journeys, that sort of thing.

That's the type of song I like from Josh Groban. I like his voice, but I want it to be shown off in a way that some of the more pop-style songs don't really do. And I want enough atmosphere and emotion that a single song calls up thousands of images in my mind.

I suppose that's why, more often, I find myself mixing up the songs from his albums. Instead of listening to one album all the way through, I'm growing more likely to just listen to one from this album, one from that one, then back to that album, and so forth. I guess we all respond to different types of music, don't we?