Oooooo…very interesting thoughts on magic and spells: this will become more pronounced a topic, I think, when we get into the ‘magic’ land of Lothlorien and get all caught up in the debate between the “art” of the Elves versus the “deceits of the Enemy”. The interesting thing about the current chapter is how Gandalf and the Balrog seem to be using the same kind or manner of magic; they are ‘magical’ in the same way. Going back to my comments on the last chapter, in which I saw the description of Gandalf fighting the wargs as foreshadowing the Balrog, I think that we are here again being show how alike or connected they are to one another. The manner of their battle brings this out too: they are both connected to fire, one good and one bad – but still, they operate very much in the same way.
The resonance of the word “doom” in this chapter is great, but also telling. Doom comes from the Old English
dóm which doesn’t just mean ‘a bad thing happening’ but actually means “judgement”. I shall quote the full reference:
Quote:
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1. doom, judgment (1) where an opinion is formed, (2) where sentence is passed, (2a) of an unfavorable sentence, condemnation, ordeal, judicial sentence, decree, ordinance, law, custom; justice, equity; a sentence, doom;
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This raises, for me, the interesting question of upon whom is judgement being passed, and by whom? And here I go with the whole Gandalf/Balrog connection.
It would appear as though judgement is being passed upon both. The Balrog is finally receiving the judgement that was passed upon it by the Valar when they entered Middle-Earth to destroy Morgoth, and Gandalf is the tool of this judgement. But Gandalf also falls into the abyss and receives judgement insofar as he passes through the ordeal and is judged worth to return to the world as Gandalf the White. In the confrontation between these two figures there’s a certain settling of accounts as things are ‘put to rights’?
But there are more judgements being passed, or that have been passed. The Dwarves received their ‘doom’, their “unfavourable judgement” for having “delved too deeply, and too greedily” in the first place and for having attempted to do so again.
The sum total effect of all this is that it introduces the idea of judgement into the quest; the idea that there is beginning a time in which judgments shall be passed and things will be put to rights – the Balrog will be destroyed – but not without a terrible price being exacted – Gandalf’s fall. Frodo is also being judged through his trial with the Ring, and this trial is prefigured by the confrontation between the Balrog and Gandalf: will Frodo fall into darkness and become a “thing of shadow” like the servant of Sauron, or will he fall through that darkness and emerge, like Gandalf, as a “vessel of light, for those with the eyes to see”? It is crucially important, I believe, that Frodo goes into Mordor not knowing that Gandalf has been reborn – for Frodo, he spends the rest of his story poised upon the Bridge of Khazad-DUM (doom), caught between the twin judgements passed upon the Balrog and Gandalf.
One Last Thing: this chapter proves quite conclusively that Balrogs have wings, so we can lay that tired chestnut to rest!
EDIT: I've had cause to go back into our earlier discussions today and I've noticed something about them; our discussions of earlier chapters seem to have been more concerend with matters thematic, while our current discussions are more about the artistry and 'technical' skill with which Tolkien put the story together. I'm wondering if this is perhaps a reflection of the way the story is being told?
I'm tempted to think of LotR as a symphonic piece. Book One is the opening movement in which not much 'happens' in turns of narrative, but all of the themes are introduced, the groupings/pairings and important patterns are established, and the 'piece' is placed in context (allusions are made, backgroud established, tempo is set, etc). Book Two is he
allegro movement in which the important themes are glimpsed from time to time, but the motive of the movement is to thrill us with the possibilties of extension beyond the rather confining parameters of the opening. The Gandalf theme, for example, so heroic and wise, is placed into an awkward harmony with the Balrog, and both fall into oblivion, which allows the hints of melancholy and darkness, held at bay in the first movement, to be brought to the fore.
I hope that this makes some sort of sense and does not sound hideously flaky and/or 'precious'
. I'm curious where the next movements will take us, musically. . .
But to return to the purpose of this edit: is it possible that Book One is a more meditative reflection upon the themes, while Book Two is an emotive narrativisation/dramatisation of those themes? If so, will Book Three prove to be a return to a meditative mode in which themes are (re)introduced and expanded upon, before their dramatisation in Book Four, and then on again to Books Five and Six???