I know I'm overly late (the nerve of me showing up here after months of not participating
) but I finally managed to find some time to do this.
I like it how the conversations between Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn mirrors the main characteristics of their races.
Elf: Duty, the spiritual
Legolas is insisting upon 'tending to the fallen' Boromir, all the while mantaining a very Elvish tranquility even sharing the grief over Boromir's death. In the middle of a somewhat desperate situation, he's the one who decides for the rest of the company that duty should come first.
Dwarf: swiftness, practicality
Gimli agrees with Legolas and, betraying his Dwarvish ways, wants the funeral to be done as quickly as possible because wasting time under such circumstances would be folly. (As davem and others have pointed out, this 'folly' happens nonetheless, mainly because the other two were in a musical mood.
Man: action, doubt
Aragorn meanwhile ponders almost obsesively upon the possible courses of action they should take once Boromir's funeral is over.
"Maybe there is no right choice" , (Gimli)
I've always asked myself what does this mean, why is Gimli being so pessimistic all of a sudden. I thought of it and realized that he is actually stating a truth. There was no right choice and no wrong choice. The path was already laid out before them and all they had to do was walk on it...In vain was Aragorn torturing himself over which course
should he take - Fate had already decided for him (this string of unexpected happenings that go through the entire book and bind everything together into a fragile but thoroughly connected web, leading to the inevitable victory of Good over Evil). There was no right or wrong choice for Aragorn now, there was the ONLY choice. And the only choice becaomes apparent only when his heart dictates him the decision:
"My heart speaks clearly at last."
This reminds me of a short-lived topic I started a while back, who knows where it is now -(gives puppy-eyed look to HI the almighty unearth-er(?) of threads
); in which I argued that reasons often misleads those from the race of Men, while their hearts, sometimes acting against reason, never do.
Lastly, I want to end this stream of consciousness post by drawing your attention to the very last paragraph of this chapter, which I love because it reads almost like a poem. It's got short, very descriptive sentences that really flow and have a dynamic rhythm that mirrors that of the Three Hunters in pursuit. Here I'll quote it in full for you to read again:
Quote:
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Like a deer he sprang away. Through the trees he sped. On and on he led them tireless and swift, now that his mind was at last made up. The woods about the lake, they left behind. Long slopes they climbed, hard-edged against the sky already red with sunset. Dark came. They passed away, grey shadows in a grey land.
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