Re-reading the Lord of the Rings, Chapter 44
Differences between men are the topic of the first chapter of the fifth book. Although it doesn't appear so, Tolkien picks up the ball from where he left it, namely at Sam's inability to master himself.
The contrast between Sam's immanence in the last chapter, his incapability to think beyond the course of his emotions, his boundness to his own growth, and Gandalf's steward speech in this chapter couldn't be starker.
The Rohirrim do as their sense of honour commands them, and if it was not for constant war to judge them, their vanity would transform their court into a pit of snakes. In Minas Tirith however everyone feels the dignity of the court and would feel soiled, if he was to put his own interests before its. Such is the difference in nature between the Dúnedain and the Rohirrim, pretty much Plato's distinction between the leader of the chariot and the good horse (of all things).
Sam, however, who stands below both of them, for he neither has an abstract understanding of honour nor of duty, but is blindly jerked around by his emotions, is of course not the bad horse, although his actions in the last two chapters were certainly bad ass (donkey, that is) enough, but is, like the bad horse in character, seperated from the other two in understanding of the nature of his being.
This is not the place to discuss this in detail, however, one implication is that only the Dúnedain are capable of being original Christians and that they had to rise the other peoples up to Christianity. There's a Roman-Catholic vibe there for sure. In reality most peoples contain of course different types and don't depend in this way on another people. But not only Catholics deny the ability of a natural people to follow in God's footsteps, Albert Pike, for example, does so as well, so perhaps Tolkien doesn't issue a particular statement, but speaks of the general necessity of the bearers of the holy flame to bring it to the ignoramuses.
If that was to mean that people need to be educated about the nature of their being, I would agree, for man is born without a grasp on himself. Alas, the institutions that we have today for the most part aim to destroy man's ideas about himself. Who holds still back and doesn't ease the coming? But, well, it's now through the night to a new day one way or another.
Speaking of which, I found the Beregond-Bergil episode rather heart warming, and if there only would have been more children in Minas Tirith, at least one segment of the population had believed in Gondor's victory. But it's probably precisely in order to enjoy the purity of this belief that the Dúnedain have too few of them, neither in Middle-earth, nor here, the new dawn has already come.
The contrast between Sam's immanence in the last chapter, his incapability to think beyond the course of his emotions, his boundness to his own growth, and Gandalf's steward speech in this chapter couldn't be starker.
But all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are my care. And for my part, I shall not wholly fail of my task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come. For I also am a steward. Did you not know?Both he who says these words and he whom they address know their meaning, that there is no higher satisfaction than to see that one has upheld one's moral duty. Neither Sam knows this, nor the Rohirrim, nor Boromir, who was much like them.
The Rohirrim do as their sense of honour commands them, and if it was not for constant war to judge them, their vanity would transform their court into a pit of snakes. In Minas Tirith however everyone feels the dignity of the court and would feel soiled, if he was to put his own interests before its. Such is the difference in nature between the Dúnedain and the Rohirrim, pretty much Plato's distinction between the leader of the chariot and the good horse (of all things).
Sam, however, who stands below both of them, for he neither has an abstract understanding of honour nor of duty, but is blindly jerked around by his emotions, is of course not the bad horse, although his actions in the last two chapters were certainly bad ass (donkey, that is) enough, but is, like the bad horse in character, seperated from the other two in understanding of the nature of his being.
This is not the place to discuss this in detail, however, one implication is that only the Dúnedain are capable of being original Christians and that they had to rise the other peoples up to Christianity. There's a Roman-Catholic vibe there for sure. In reality most peoples contain of course different types and don't depend in this way on another people. But not only Catholics deny the ability of a natural people to follow in God's footsteps, Albert Pike, for example, does so as well, so perhaps Tolkien doesn't issue a particular statement, but speaks of the general necessity of the bearers of the holy flame to bring it to the ignoramuses.
If that was to mean that people need to be educated about the nature of their being, I would agree, for man is born without a grasp on himself. Alas, the institutions that we have today for the most part aim to destroy man's ideas about himself. Who holds still back and doesn't ease the coming? But, well, it's now through the night to a new day one way or another.
Speaking of which, I found the Beregond-Bergil episode rather heart warming, and if there only would have been more children in Minas Tirith, at least one segment of the population had believed in Gondor's victory. But it's probably precisely in order to enjoy the purity of this belief that the Dúnedain have too few of them, neither in Middle-earth, nor here, the new dawn has already come.
Eingetragen Am/um
11:14
