[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

I wrote most of what follows last night, and although I've done my best to incorporate the later posts I can't be sure that I haven't missed anyone. My apologies to anybody whose arguments I've overlooked.

I don't believe that it's possible to disassociate the mythology from psychological realities. Throughout even The Silmarillion characters' individual personalities, motivations and feelings at pivotal points are made clear to us, and this makes the application of psychological realism quite possible and acceptable. In the example of Arwen above, my opinion that she died from despair was derived from this passage:

'But Arwen went forth from the House, and the light of her eyes was quenched, and it seemed to her people that she had become cold and grey as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Then she said farewell to Eldarion, and to her daughters, and to all whom she had loved; and she went out from the city of Minas Tirith and passed away to the land of Lórien, and dwelt there alone under the fading trees until winter came.

Indeed it was the specific imagery of despair that Tolkien uses here that led me to my conclusion. The light of Arwen's eyes is quenched; she has lost the spark of vitality with the loss of Aragorn and now her paths can only lead to fading, winter and inevitably death. Indeed it is as though with the loss of Estel the Evenstar has lost hope itself; that she literally cannot live without him. I quite agree with the Saucepan Man that her family is the logical support at such a time, but this clearly did not suit Tolkien's narrative aims and certainly would not provide the symmetry that The XPhial mentions.

I cannot see how this relinquishing of life (at least as Tolkien portrays it) can be anything but passive. Although Aragorn himself gives up what little time remains to him, this is presented as a positive decision, taken for the sake of the dignity of the Kings, and more importantly a contrast with the later kings of Númenor. Were Arwen's death to follow the same pattern as his I would regard it as an active following of her love into death, but it does not. She wanders as someone who has lost the lodestone of her existence, and I do not find this very difficult to believe. It would hardly be surprising for someone who has lived for centuries among deathless and unchanging relatives to be unaware of the full burden that the Gift places on the race of Men, as indeed the text makes explicit with Arwen's words to Aragorn:

But I say to you, King of the Númenoreans, not til now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if this is indeed, as the Eldar say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.

Only at the last does she truly realise the fate that she has taken upon herself, but it is the parting of death that is hard to bear, and that makes the gift bitter. Arwen has chosen the fate of Men so that she need not be parted from Aragorn, in fact for precisely the same reason as her ancestress Lúthien made the same decision. She now has the freedom to follow Aragorn beyond the circles of the world, beyond which is "more than memory", and she does so soon after; but she does this without thought to those she leaves behind, other than to bid them farewell, and I'm sorry to say that she appears to depart in despair.

Perhaps my over-liberal use of capitals has confused the queen mother issue. As Lost One quite rightly points out, we cannot compare Gondor with a modern constitutional monarchy, in which dowagers are effectively no use to anyone. Rather it is a medieval state in which the royal family and their peers run every aspect of the administration. Kingship in that context is a trade that must be learned (usually from one's father, I must admit), and a wise king avails himself of all the good advice he can get even once he knows how to arrange matters. Surely on some issues the advice of one close to his predecessor would have been useful. Perhaps more pertinent is the point that, though they might not literally need their parents (being well into adulthood themselves), Arwen's family will hardly be overjoyed to lose both of them in such quick succession, particularly since both of them die by their own free will, which implies a rejection of whose whom they leave among the living. Effectively, Arwen places the burden of grief that she has found so galling on the shoulders of her son and daughters (Eldarion would have an especially difficult time of it, since he also has the government of a kingdom to take over). She escapes into death from the pains of the world, leaving others with twice the misery, and it surprises me that they let her go. Like the Saucepan Man I have exactly the same reservations about Sam's rather abrupt departure, immediately on the heels of his wife's death. Whilst I can understand his desire to see Frodo again it does seem very hard on his family and unusual in a patriarch.

Of course the narrative effect of Arwen's death is no less powerful for its apparent thoughtlessness. Effectively she gives up her life twice: first her life as one of the Firstborn and then the years that remained to her after Aragorn's death. She is a woman who surrenders everything for love, for whom, indeed, love of her chosen man eclipses family, race and immortality. The choice between her Elven kin and her husband is one that is forced upon her, but her decision to wander off and die, abandoning her human loved ones, is her own. Although I can understand this and appreciate the bitter-sweet beauty of it as narrative, it does not sit well as a character decision, much as Míriel's refusal to be rebodied (the detrimental effects of which on her husband and son Tolkien explores in The Shibboleth of Fëanor and more briefly in the Silmarillion proper) leaves me with a feeling of frailty and selfishness that I find hard to reconcile with the courage and endurance that Tolkien normally portrays.

Rimbaud has mentioned that Arwen's death is symptomatic of a general Elven fading from Middle-earth (more a compulsion to leave), but there is to my mind a fundamental flaw in this argument, since Arwen is by the time of her death not one of the Eldar at all. She has forsaken the Twilight and chosen the fate of Men, who are not compelled to leave. We cannot have our cake and eat it too: either Arwen is an Elf, subject to a compulsion to leave the mortal lands or she is human (albeit with long-extended years) and therefore subject only to the fate of that people. She says herself "I must indeed abide the Doom of Men, whether I will or nil", and it seems to me in any case that if the half-Elven must be subject to the compulsions of both kindreds then the choice that is granted them becomes meaningless.

Even the cases of Legolas and Celeborn are by no means clear-cut. I shall leave the latter for the time being, since this post is already extending far beyond its intended length, but Legolas' desire to leave for the West does not come as part of some general Elven fading. Rather as he says himself, the sea exerts a strong pull upon the Elves

I have not yet beheld it. But deep in the hearts of all my kindred lies the sea-longing, which it is perilous to stir. Alas! for the gulls. No peace shall I have again under beech or under elm.

This does not seem to me like a recent compulsion, but a natural and eternal part of the Elven psyche, which is stirred by thoughts of the sea and not by the advent of Men. As for his decision to remain for so many years despite the call of the ocean, I can see no better authorities to cite than Gimli and Merry:

'Say not so!' said Gimli. 'There are countless things still to see in Middle-earth, and great works to do. But if all the fair folk take to the havens, it will be a duller world for those who are doomed to stay.'

'Dull and dreary indeed!' said Merry. 'You must not go to the Havens, Legolas. There will always be some folk, big or little, and even a few wise dwarves like Gimli, who need you. At least I hope so...'

Legolas overrules the call of his heart for many years because there are people who need him, and things in the world that he has not seen, but he has no real ties to Middle-earth, and with each ship that leaves the Havens less remains to hold him from the West. But Legolas is an unalloyed Elf, not one of the Half-elven who has taken the fate of Men. I expect that by the time he leaves Gimli is the person closest to him in all the hither lands.

I too wish to see a more dynamic Arwen, someone who is more than just a prize to be won or a devoted helpmeet. At the very least I'd like to see someone whose strength and patience applies in all cases and not just when it comes to waiting for Aragorn. Sadly, it would appear that Appendix A is not going to grant me that, much as I may love the story it has to tell.

[ September 06, 2003: Message edited by: The Squatter of Amon Rûdh ]