[mark12_30]

I have much catching up to do. The following notes were written before reading the thread; having now read the thread, several (davem and boromir in particular) hunted some of the same things I did. Having to choose between correlating all my comments to all those who posted on similar topics or ideas on this thread, or, moving on to the next chapter-- I hope you all do not think me rude in moving on. The thread has been quite enjoyable, yet I have many miles to go...

The casual introduction of Treebeard is delightful:

High up, almost level with the tops of forest-trees, there was a shelf under a cliff. Nothing grew there but a few grasses and weeds at its edge, and one old stump of a tree with only two bent branches left: it looked almost like the figure of some gnarled old man, standing there, blinking in the morning-light.

How Gnarled and how Old, they are about to discover!

If the stair had been made it was for bigger feet and longer legs than theirs. .... They came at length to the edge of the shelf almost at the feet of the old stump; then they sprang up and turned round with their backs to the hill, breathing deep, and looking out eastward.

Which means they also have their backs to "the old stump". This is delightful! A moment later the Old Stump speaks and "A large knob-knuckled hand was laid on each of their shoulders". Doesn't it make your shoulder tingle?

For I am not going to tell you my name... For one thing it would take a long while: my name is growing all the time, and I’ve lived a very long, long time; so my name is like a story. Real names tell you the story of the things they belong to...

Deep. It made me wonder what story each of us has, and what kind of a name we would have. Strider's long list of names is like chapter headings... what kind of autobiographical chapter headings would each of our lives produce? I may tackle this for my own satisfaction... but it is even more satisfying to think that Eru could write each of those books.

you know, the thing we are on, where I stand and look out on fine mornings, and think about the Sun, and the grass beyond the wood, and the horses, and the clouds, and the unfolding of the world. What is going on? What is Gandalf up to?

And now we know what was on the mind of that Gnarled Old Stump! Magnificent storytelling.

...Let us leave this – did you say what you call it?’
‘Hill?’ suggested Pippin. ‘Shelf? Step?’ suggested Merry.
Treebeard repeated the words thoughtfully. ‘Hill. Yes, that was it. But it is a hasty word for a thing that has stood here ever since this part of the world was shaped. Never mind. Let us leave it, and go.’

Makes me look at hills, and all the bones of the earth, in a whole new way.

Good and evil trees and their roots:

When that happens to a tree, you find that some have bad hearts. Nothing to do with their wood: I do not mean that. Why, I knew some good old willows down the Entwash, gone long ago, alas! They were quite hollow, indeed they were falling all to pieces, but as quiet and sweet-spoken as a young leaf. And then there are some trees in the valleys under the mountains, sound as a bell, and bad right through. That sort of thing seems to spread. There used to be some very dangerous parts in this country. There are still some very black patches.’
‘Like the Old Forest away to the north, do you mean?’ asked Merry.
‘Aye, aye. something like, but much worse. I do not doubt there is some shadow of the Great Darkness lying there still away north; and bad memories are handed down. But there are hollow dales in this land where the Darkness has never been lifted, and the trees are older than I am."

Odd-- isn't Treebeard extremely old, sometimes called the Eldest? Eldest of the ents, maybe? Interesting.
And how dark those dales must be! "Hollow" dales says something about the nature of evil; hollowness in life, purpose, etc. And yet it is not physically the trees that are hollow-- but the dells they are rooted in. Contrast this with the "Sweet old willows down the Entwash" rooted near the nutritious and healthy river-- Psalm 1, anyone?

And the smell of the air! I used to spend a week just breathing.’

Speaks for itself...

dusk was twined about the boles of the trees. ...Down the hillside the young Entwash, leaping from its springs high above, ran noisily from step to step to meet them.

Gorgeous writing.


WELLINGHALL

I find the whole Wellinghall passage fascinating because of the connection between Treebeard, water, ent-draughts, stone pots and bowls and vessels, and light. Here are a few exerpts:

... two great vessels and stood them on the table. They seemed to be filled with water; but he held his hands over them, and immediately they began to glow, one with a golden and the other with a rich green light; and the blending of the two lights lit the bay; as if the sun of summer was shining through a roof of young leaves. Looking back, the hobbits saw that the trees in the court had also begun to glow, faintly at first, but steadily quickening, until every leaf was edged with light: some green, some gold, some red as copper; while the tree-trunks looked like pillars moulded out of luminous stone.

Does this connect with the two trees, or at least with the Golden tree? There's no white tree reference (light being golden and green, not silver) but is Treebeard supplying some sort of link to the Golden tree, which was the predecessor of the sun? Is this an illustration connecting sunlight (first vessel) and the green light found, for instance, in a newly-opened beech glade in spring? But then how do the rest of the luminous trees connect? Regardless, it's a beautiful, mysterious, and fascinating passage.

He went to the back of the bay, and then they saw that several tall stone jars stood there, with heavy lids. He removed one of the lids, and dipped in a great ladle, and with it filled three bowls, one very large bowl, and two smaller ones. ...The drink was like water, indeed very like the taste of the draughts they had drunk from the Entwash near, the borders of the forest, and yet there was some scent or savour in it which they could not describe: it was faint, but it reminded them of the smell of a distant wood borne from afar by a cool breeze at night. The effect of the draught began at the toes, and rose steadily through every limb, bringing refreshment and vigour as it coursed upwards, right to the tips of the hair.

John ch. 2 on Stone and water and wine -- and power:
"Now there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of purification of the Jews, containing twenty or thirty gallons apiece. Jesus said to them, “Fill the waterpots with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. And He said to them, “Draw some out now, and take it to the master of the feast.” And they took it. When the master of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom. And he said to him, “Every man at the beginning sets out the good wine, and when the guests have well drunk, then the inferior. You have kept the good wine until now!”


Light when Treebeard is roused:

And there are wastes of stump and bramble where once there were singing groves. I have been idle. I have let things slip. It must stop!’
Treebeard raised himself from his bed with a jerk, stood up, and thumped his hand on the table. The vessels of light trembled and sent up two jets of flame. There was a flicker like green fire in his eyes

Light when Treebeard calms himself:

He strode to the archway and stood for some time under the falling rain of the spring. Then he laughed and shook himself, and wherever the drops of water fell glittering from him to the ground they glinted like red and green sparks.

A few, varied quotes that strike me as "Wisdom":
On Sarumen:

his face... became like windows in a stone wall: windows with shutters inside.

On happiness:

....the Entwives. We believe that we may meet again in a time to come, and perhaps we shall find somewhere a land where we can live together and both be content. But it is foreboded that that will only be when we have both lost all that we now have.

Marching to War:

and Pippin could see a sad look in his eyes, sad but not unhappy.