"They Began to Hum Softly", Murray Smith

[shadowfax]

Hi Faramir,

Thanks for responding... and also well met and thanks for the excellent article.

This topic is extremely fascinating and I don't really know where to start.

The anachronism aspect is interesting. Tolkien was writing about an imaginary world in a long gone era, but doing so through he eyes of a modern man living in an age defined by totally different values and attitudes. I was aware of the Shire anachronisms, ranging from Bilbo's manner of dressing to umbrellas and even touching on the post renaissance instruments of the dwarves (which are strangely not re-mentioned once outside the Shire and can so be considered part of the Shire anachronism as much as they are part of the dwarves' identity). But besides artefacts, I hadn't considered that there might also be anachronisms in terms of attitudes and values. This is definitely a topic deserving further study.

Much of Middle-earth was a feudal society. Men were not free in the manner that we consider freedom today but served their masters, to the point of following them into war and dying on the battlefield - without questioning the necessity of their sacrifice. The Shire may have been a little freer but basically anywhere else we so no evidence of any common man having had any choice in the matter. They were thus fighting for their lord and master before they were fighting for Gondor or for the West. In my opinion it was the beakdown of the feudal system that led to some vacuum and caused nationalism. People no longer had a compelling reason to obey their masters and nationalism with all its symbols and flags and music was a necessity to fill in this gap and continue to make war possible in a society that was otherwise elightened and free.

Concerning the enemy being Satan in person, I don't know how any state of this world would react to that situation. But presumably it would lead to totally different attitudes. However, that is a question of theology. If you're fighting somebody, you're first of all fighting an enemy, and that this enemy is Satan is only a second argument after that. If somebody is out to kill you, you fight for your life, no matter whether that enemy is Satan himself or a mouse on steroids or a bearded guy in a cave in Afghanistan. Besides which, propganda machines always try to paint the enemy as Satan incarnate. Look at what the media made of Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein to cite just some recent examples. So where this argument is leading me is the question, does it make a difference if for once the propganda machine is right and the enemy really is Satan. Does the common man or the collective psyche see through the propaganda and still make the difference? An interesting question.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Originally Posted by shadowfax

...the post renaissance instruments of the dwarves (which are strangely not re-mentioned once outside the Shire and can so be considered part of the Shire anachronism as much as they are part of the dwarves' identity).

The chapter on instruments in Middle-earth touches upon this subject, discussing the kinds of instruments used by the Dwarves and even suggesting just when they disappeared from the story - an interesting detail!

[shadowfax]

Originally Posted by Estelyn Telcontar

The chapter on instruments in Middle-earth touches upon this subject, discussing the kinds of instruments used by the Dwarves and even suggesting just when they disappeared from the story - an interesting detail!

yes, I know. I was actually thinking of your chapter and also your talk in Jena when I wrote that.

[Faramir Jones]

Shadowfax, I'm glad that you enjoyed my article, and agree completely that the topic is 'extremely fascinating'.

In terms of what you said about anachronisms here:

Originally Posted by shadowfax

The anachronism aspect is interesting. Tolkien was
writing about an imaginary world in a long gone era, but doing so through he
eyes of a modern man living in an age defined by totally different values and
attitudes. I was aware of the Shire anachronisms, ranging from Bilbo's manner
of dressing to umbrellas and even touching on the post renaissance instruments
of the dwarves (which are strangely not re-mentioned once outside the Shire and
can so be considered part of the Shire anachronism as much as they are part of
the dwarves' identity). But besides artefacts, I hadn't considered that there
might also be anachronisms in terms of attitudes and values. This is definitely
a topic deserving further study.

When I began to seriously study history, I realised (like so many others) that to attempt to understand what went on in a particular period, I needed to look beyond the fact that people looked and talked differently, and to look at, as you said, their 'attitudes and values'.

Originally Posted by shadowfax

Much of Middle-earth was a feudal society. Men were not free in the manner that we consider freedom today but served their masters, to the point of following them into war and dying on the battlefield - without questioning the necessity of their sacrifice. The Shire may have been a little freer but basically anywhere else we so no evidence of any common man having had any choice in the matter. They were thus fighting for their lord and master before they were fighting for Gondor or for the West. In my opinion it was the beakdown of the feudal system that led to some vacuum and caused nationalism. People no longer had a compelling reason to obey their masters and nationalism with all its symbols and flags and music was a necessity to fill in this gap and continue to
make war possible in a society that was otherwise elightened and free.

But is it a feudal system as we understand it when people, such as the Gondorians, have been fighting a foe like Sauron for thousands of years? It appears that there is an element of 'nationalism' in terms of a recognition by Gondorians that the kingdom is a seperate entity from any king; so Gondor has survived for centuries as a state even with a vacant throne. When Pippin swears allegiance, he first and significantly swears allegience to Gondor, and only second to Denethor II as Steward.

Originally Posted by shadowfax

Concerning the enemy being Satan in person, I don't know how any state of this world would react to that situation. But presumably it would lead to totally different attitudes. However, that is a question of theology. If you're fighting somebody, you're first of all fighting an enemy, and that this enemy is Satan is only a second argument after that. If somebody is out to kill you, you fight for your life, no matter whether that enemy is Satan himself or a mouse on steroids or a bearded guy in a cave in Afghanistan. Besides which, propganda machines always try to paint the enemy as Satan incarnate. Look at what the media made of Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein to cite just some recent examples. So where this argument is leading me is the question, does it make a
difference if for once the propganda machine is right and the enemy really is Satan. Does the common man or the collective psyche see through the propaganda and still make the difference? An interesting question.

An interesting question, indeed. I disagree that fighting Sauron would be merely a 'question of theology'. Sauron is an enemy, of course; but unlike the people you mentioned he is both immortal and of divine origin. Not only can he live forever; it appears that he cannot be 'killed' in any conventional sense. This makes him thousands of times more formidable than any other tyrant; because those you've mentioned were and are mortal Men, doomed to die. This did make a difference, such as when the Mongols looked as if they would overrun Western Europe, they were stopped by the death of the Great Khan Ögedei in 1241. In Sauron's case, not only do you have the same person around; that person can afford to wait a long time for things to turn in his favour. He waited for centuries in the Third Age until Gondor began to decline and the watch it kept on Mordor ended. The Gondorians, Rohirrim and other enemies can't wait, as they would for a mortal foe, for him to either die, or to grow old and want to spend time with the grandchildren.

There's also the problem of what to do with Sauron if, by a remote chance, he was defeated. Keeping him as a POW would be too risky, considering what he did in Númenor in the Second Age. All he needs to do is to wait a couple of generations for those who knew him as an enemy to die off, and let people grow up who might feel sorry for him. We can also look back and see the havoc his former master, Morgoth, wreaked in Valinor after he was released. The only way to keep him harmless when he was overcome again at the end of the First Age was to imprison him outside of Arda, casting him out beyond the Walls of Night.

Even if Sauron is not imprisoned, but a decision made to execute him instead, is such a thing possible? Can a Maia (or former Maia) be killed?

There are two disadvantages to being an immortal tyrant. First, you have accumulated a huge number of atrocities to your name over thousands of years. (I'm sure that Sauron would have made Mao and Stalin look pathetic by comparison.) You're therefore easy to hate. For example, I'm sure that the Gondorians haven't forgotten the betrayal of their last king.

Second, because you've been around so long, your enemies will have amassed a large amount of information about you. Know your enemy is an basic maxim of warfare. I believe that Aragorn II learnt a lot about Sauron, from written and oral sources, as well as from his own travels, and was thus able to use that knowledge to confront him using the Stone of Orthanc, and persuade him that he might have the Ring, encouraging him to make a premature attack on Gondor.

[Bêthberry]

A most interesting discussion to develop out of the essay, which I, like Estelyn and shadowfax, have enjoyed reading. Thank you, Faramir, for it.

Originally Posted by Faramir Jones

[But is it a feudal system as we understand it when people, such as the Gondorians, have been fighting a foe like Sauron for thousands of years? It appears that there is an element of 'nationalism' in terms of a recognition by Gondorians that the kingdom is a seperate entity from any king; so Gondor has survived for centuries as a state even with a vacant throne. When Pippin swears allegiance, he first and significantly swears allegience to Gondor, and only second to Denethor II as Steward.

If I may, I'd like to interject an observation here about the separation of king and kingdom. Or, in the case of my example, Duke and Duchy.

In our life time I have heard the current heir to the English throne, Charles, Prince of Wales and Duke of Cornwall, refer to himself as "Cornwall." It was a television show some years back about the agricultural practices he had instituted and he was commenting on pictures and videos that showed him amidst some of the farms. Charles very clearly did not say, "Here you will see that I have . . ." It was always "Cornwall", as in "Here Cornwall discusses with . . . .". Charles was of course speaking of the old bond whereby the king is the kingdom. So if Charles at the end of the Twentieth Century could still name himself as Cornwall, I would think that, at the mid of the twentieth century Tolkien might very well still be applying that old concept. If this is the case, then Pippin's oath to Gondor was also to the King, even though absent.

The point may be a small one, but it perhaps is one reason why I have never particularly thought of Gondor as a modern nation state. To me, it's more like one of those Italian 'city states.' (Possibly I think this because of its geography, the latitude something like Venice's.)

Perhaps I can also say that Aragorn's song or poem, "Gondor, Gondor", has never struck me as a national anthem, but more rather a lament. It reminds me instead of the Old English poem "The Ruin" with its longing for a greatness that has fallen away. Aragorn gives to his song a hope that the greatness shall be rebuilt, but I think it is the past tense verbs with which the song begins--blew, fell--which recall to me the ancient theme of mutability. To that mutability Aragorn brings, of course, hope. Yet the poem remains a lament for lost glory, which is not something I normally associate with national anthems.

[mark12_30]

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

Perhaps I can also say that Aragorn's song or poem, "Gondor, Gondor", has never struck me as a national anthem, but more rather a lament. It reminds me instead of the Old English poem "The Ruin" with its longing for a greatness that has fallen away. Aragorn gives to his song a hope that the greatness shall be rebuilt, but I think it is the past tense verbs with which the song begins--blew, fell--which recall to me the ancient theme of mutability. To that mutability Aragorn brings, of course, hope. Yet the poem remains a lament for lost glory, which is not something I normally associate with national anthems.

I always wondered what that song was. It is drenched with sorrow. It feels like a song of exile. He is, at that moment, tearing himself away from a friendly hope (He and Boromir had planned to go there: "I would have begged you to come," said Frodo. "Only I thought you were going with Boromir to Minas Tirith.") After Aragorn finishes singing, he turns ("Now let us go") and pushes himself into further effort and exile.

[Faramir Jones]

I'm glad that you liked my article, Bêthberry.

Your last post was very interesting. First, regarding the reference to a monarch by his territorial title:

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

If I may, I'd like to interject an observation here about the separation of king and kingdom. Or, in the case of my example, Duke and Duchy.

In our life time I have heard the current heir to the English throne, Charles, Prince of Wales and Duke of Cornwall, refer to himself as "Cornwall." It was a television show some years back about the agricultural practices he had instituted and he was commenting on pictures and videos that showed him amidst some of the farms. Charles very clearly did not say, "Here you will see that I have . . ." It was always "Cornwall", as in "Here Cornwall discusses with . . . .". Charles was of course speaking of the old bond whereby the king is the kingdom. So if Charles at the end of the Twentieth Century could still name himself as Cornwall, I would think that, at the mid of the twentieth century Tolkien might very well still be applying that old concept. If this is the case, then Pippin's oath to Gondor was also to the King, even though absent.

The point may be a small one, but it perhaps is one reason why I have never particularly thought of Gondor as a modern nation state. To me, it's more like one of those Italian 'city states.' (Possibly I think this because of its geography, the latitude something like Venice's.).

I recall that Shakespeare's plays have a lot of such references to monarchs by their territories. In 'Anthony and Cleopatra', the dying Mark Anthony, in Act 4, Scene 15, says to Cleopatra, 'I am dying, Egypt, dying;' In Act I, Scene 1, of 'King Lear', the two suitors of Cordelia are the King of France and the Duke of Burgundy, referred to by their territorial designations of 'France' and 'Burgundy'.

That said, the oath Pippin swears explicitly refers to Gondor as a state; because he then swears allegiance to Denethor, who is called 'Steward' to the 'High King'. This is because there is no king, the throne being vacant.

I was amused when you said that you thought Gondor was more like an Italian 'city state'. Tolkien, with his daughter Priscilla, visited Italy, including Venice, from late July to mid-August 1955, and would in a later letter compare Venice to Gondor. In it, he thanked his correspondent for his letter, saying it came 'while I was away, in Gondor (sc. Venice)'. (Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, Letter 168, p. 223.)

Such Italian city states were quite sophisticated, and saw themselves as the inheritors of Roman republicanism and its virtues. From this sense of the past developed the idea of a national, Italian, patriotism. Writers such as Dante and Petrarch equated Italy with Rome, and Italian with Latin. This was particularly the case from the time of the Renaissance.

That said, this Italian national sentiment was something new, despite its use of the past. For one thing, it was very interested in something that the Romans professed to despise: trade. According to one historian:

The Italians indeed had a 'Middle Age' but not as reborn Romans. They were the businessmen of Christendom, pursuing trade not empire, freedom not dominion, the European leaders in economic innovation, commercial and financial growth, merchantile morality, emancipation and power - in short, the acknowledged progenitors, recognised in a tradition of centuries perfected by Adam Smith and Marx, of Western Capitalism, individualism and democracy. The country closest to Rome was also the most modern. (Philip James Jones, The Italian City-State: From Commune to Signoria, (Oxford: OUP, 2004), p. 54.)

Second, about Aragorn's song or poem:

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

Perhaps I can also say that Aragorn's song or poem, "Gondor, Gondor", has never struck me as a national anthem, but more rather a lament. It reminds me instead of the Old English poem "The Ruin" with its longing for a greatness that has fallen away. Aragorn gives to his song a hope that the greatness shall be rebuilt, but I think it is the past tense verbs with which the song begins--blew, fell--which recall to me the ancient theme of mutability. To that mutability Aragorn brings, of course, hope. Yet the poem remains a lament for lost glory, which is not something I normally associate with national anthems.

While it is in the style of a lament, that doesn't mean that such a song could not be a national anthem. It's true that most national anthems tend to talk about how great the relevant country is, shown particularly in the title of the Danish national anthem, 'There is a lovely land'. In the film Borat, there is a version of the national anthem of Kazakhstan

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixavbzGylcU

which says that not only is this country the best in the world; all other countries are run by 'little girls'. It's a spoof of what is often sung.

That said, there are other national anthems that don't fit into this mould. One which I specifically mentioned in my essay was that of Poland, 'Poland Has Not Perished Yet'. It was composed in 1797, two years after Poland disappeared as an independent state. This is one translation of its first verse:

Poland has not perished yet
So long as we still live
That which alien force has seized
We at sabrepoint shall retrieve.

It expressed the idea that the nation of Poland had not disappeared, as long as the Polish people lived and fought in its name. In 1926, some years after Poland re-emerged as an independent state, it became that country's national anthem.

While I didn't call the song 'Gondor, Gondor' a national anthem, I said that it had the elements of one, using this Polish example.

[Bêthberry]

Sorry for the protracted reply, Faramir, but the Easter holiday intervened with many activities.

Thank you for providing the quote from the Letters, as you know my copy has disappeared. I think it was that letter I quoted in ages past on the Downs, or possibly another which stated that Gondor was at about the same latitude as Venice—my memory could be playing tricks on me, though, and that detail about latitude might come from Fonstad’s Atlas or Carpenter.

Whether we rely on the Letters or on the characteristics about Gondor in LotR, Gondor clearly has a culture different from that of The Shire and again from that of Rohan and this I think is one of the interesting things you bring out in your essay. Yet I don’t think Gondor quite resembles the city state that your very distinguished historian, Philip James Jones, means in his monumental study. Jones’s book is unquestionably authoritative and important and it has set the standard for study of Italian history (in English) for probably the generation to come. Yet The Italian City-State: From Commune to Signoria was first published in 1997, so it’s argument and perspective was not something Tolkien would have been familiar with. And while Jones was a Reader, Tutor, Fellow and Librarian at Oxford (Brasenose College) in the ‘60’s, ‘70’s, and ‘80’s, I think it unlikely Tolkien, had he even known of Jones’ earlier work, would have been much influenced by Jones’ ideas. That is, I doubt Jones' concept of city state can be found in Tolkien's Gondor.

Why? Because Jones’ work reset the definitions of what powered those city states and what motivated their cultures. He had a very different idea of how the classical world transformed into the modern world than did previous historians and poets and writers. His work is controversial precisely because he in effect denied the traditional humanist understanding of the Renaissance, as well as its dating in the 14th or 15th century. In focusing upon economics, trade, finances, and “mercantile morality” (as in the quote you provided above) and seeing the city-state’s relationship in terms of Adam Smith and Marx (again, as in your quotation), he took a view that was unlike the earlier thought about the inspiring painting, philosophy, art, and culture in the city-states. That is, he questioned traditional assumptions about the Renaissance and the bourgeois city-state. As he put it:

Originally Posted by Jones, p. 5, The Italian City-State

The humanist scheme of history is dead, itself a part of history.

His is a very different “Venice” or “Florence” than that understood by, for instance, the many Victorians who flocked to Italy (to say nothing of the Romantic poets) and by the Pre-Raphaelites, who even took their name from the Italian painter. It could well be worth a thread to discuss Tolkien’s relationship to these immediate predecessors, who, like Tolkien himself, were not influenced by Machiavelli and Marx, as was Jones.

What also differentiates Tolkien from Jones’ view of the city states is Tolkien’s attitude towards chivalry. This attitude permeates LotR and it is a significant factor in his depiction of history and culture, especially since, as LotR progresses, in many ways it leaves off the air of realism about The Shire and moves closer towards a heroic mode. (I use the word ‘realism’ guardedly and in relation to previous discussions here on the Downs about the narrative style of LotR.) In fact, I would argue that in many ways The Shire is closer as a recent past than Gondor to Tolkien’s first readers. Even Tolkien’s prose changes as the book develops, as do the vocabulary and style of the characters’ dialogue. (Initially, Gimli’s and Legolas’ style of speech is quite different but ultimately both come to speak in a similar style.) In fact, it’s probably a little wicked of me to quote Jones’ description of the pre-city-state cultures to characterize Tolkien’s, but I will anyway.

Originally Posted by Jones, The Italian City-States, p. 7

The professed ideal was a civic, humanist ethic which exalted moral and military excellence (virtus, and censured, even outlawed, as associated evils, acquisitiveness (quaestus), luxury, and idleness. By this code, wealth, if not deemed a trust, was to be used, as won, honourably (bono modo), and, with all other faculties, exploited not for self but for family, friends, and most of all the state.

I could also point to Tolkien’s discussion of chivalry in his "The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth Beorhthelm's Son”, particularly his Extended Comment on the Old English word ‘ofermod’, where he says that the chivalric desire for honour, motivated by pride, compromises the true nature of chivalry. Tolkien discusses “Sir Gawain” as well as the poem “Maldon”.

Originally Posted by Tolkien, HoBBS

We have two poets that study at length the heroic and chivalrous, with both art and thought, in the older ages: one near the beginning in Beowulf; one near the end in Sir Gawain. And probably a third, more near the middle, in Maldon, if we had all his work. It is not surprising that any consideration of the work of one of these leads to the others. Sir Gawain, the latest, is the most fully conscious, and is in plain intention a criticism or valuation of a whole code of sentiment and conduct, in which heroic courage is only a part, with different loyalties to serve. Yet it is a poem with many inner likenesses to Beowulf, deeper than the use of the old "alliterative" metre, which is none the less significant. Sir Gawain, as the exemplar of chivalry, is of course shown to be deeply concerned for his own honour, and though the things considered honour¬able may have shifted or been enlarged, loyalty to word and to allegiance, and unflinching courage re¬main. These are tested in adventures no nearer to ordinary life than Grendel or the dragon; but Gawain's conduct is made more worthy, and more worth con¬sidering, again because he is a subordinate. He is involved in peril and the certain prospect of death simply by loyalty, and. the desire to secure the safety and dignity of his lord, King Arthur. And upon him depends in his quest the honour of his lord and of his heorðwerod, the Round Table.

This understanding of chivalry is particularly important in a comparison of Boromir’s, Faramir’s, and Denethor’s stories.

Now, what does all this have to do with your paper? It is prompted by the emphasis, both in your paper and in your reply here, on the “nationality” of Gondor, for what I meant by “city-state” is not what you meant by the same word as evidenced by the quotation from Jones. Ultimately, I think, you place greater emphasis on certain modern aspects of Gondor than I would. For instance, I would not call the pride of Gondor “a strong sense of nationality” (p. 199), as you do, for to me the claims and comments that Boromir and Faramir make for the bastion of free peoples rather represents a fealty.

The characteristics of Gondor are not unalloyed, if I may make use of Tolkien’s metaphor in his discussion of chivalry, but blended. While Aragorn’s mitigating of Beregond’s doom shows Aragorn rejecting a knee-jerk application of the old punishment of death, Aragorn nonethess reaffirms the chivalric question of obedience and duty in a subordinate; he sends Beregond into exile as it were, but an exile of service to Faramir, for whose life Beregond broke the oath to Denethor. It’s as wise and neat an answer as any Solomon could have come up with and one the poet of Beowulf, who himself questioned the owner of such an allegiance, might well acclaim. There are many other aspects of Gondor that make it a realm of chivalry rather than incipient capitalist hoard. Faramir’s debate with Gollem and Frodo is based upon faithful word and ultimately Faramir respects the troth that Frodo has pledged with Gollem, despite his misgivings. Neither trade nor commerce binds Rohan and Gondor, but Eomer’s love for Aragorn and an ancient word. The symbolism of the medieval bower informs the story of Faramir and Eowyn. And Aragorn himself refers to the Gondorians’ attitude towards their city in a decidedly traditional way, “And who then shall govern Gondor and those who look to this City as to their queen . . .”(The Steward and the King).

This leaves me with a rejoinder about “Gondor, Gondor”, which you twice refer to as a national anthem, using quotation marks, p. 185, the first page, and p. 211, the last page.

Gondorian songs and poems are, however, only quoted twice, a “national anthem” and a rhyme about a herb. . . .

The lack of Gondorian songs, save the “national anthem” may be due to Tolkien not wanting to make Gondor seem too “modern” or too similar to the United Kingdom at war in 1914-1918 and 1939-1945.

It is only Aragorn who recites “Gondor, Gondor”, so how can it be said to be a Gondorian anthem?

The song sung by Aragorn, “Gondor! Gondor”, resembles a national anthem, which Gondor was sophisticated enough to have.

Leaving aside the question of how much the song resembles the Polish anthem, there doesn’t appear evidence that the song was known in Gondor or sung in Gondor. Amid all the music and singing and celebration after the destruction of the Ring and the fall of Sauron, not once is “Gondor, Gondor” mentioned. If it is the national anthem and not, as Helen eloquently suggests, Aragorn’s plaintive song of exile, then why is it absent from the celebrations? The narrative plays out the song with Aragorn’s discovery of the new tree but no one else sings the song. It would appear to be his and not Gondor’s.

I like the distinction you bring out about the prevalence of song in different parts of LotR. I would not have pondered the nature of military music in it without your paper. I might not agree with your characterization of Gondorian music or of Gondor, but I certainly appreciate how your thoughts have been a springboard for mine and for that I sincerely thank you.