(avg. read time: 5–11 mins.)
This last part begins with texts on the Drúedain, some of whom resided in the Drúadan Forest and proved to be an overlooked crucial source of aid for the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, and thus the War of the Ring. This chapter is mostly of interest for lore reasons. A tale, called “The Faithful Stone,” is told to exemplify how these people helped the Folk of Haleth and how they were purported to have magical abilities. Such abilities were also linked with their watch-stones made to look like them. For the occasion of this story, one named Aghan had been guarding the household of Barach, but he had to leave to attend to his brother. He left a watch-stone with the family, and when the Orcs came to attack the household with fire and brimstone, he saw a Drûg (as the people were also called) drive off the Orcs and stamp out the fire they had set. The watch-stone was gone afterwards and Aghan returned. He would lead Barach to where the watch-stone was sitting atop a dead Orc, showing that its legs were blackened and one of its feet had been split off. Aghan also revealed that his own legs were bandaged, for he woke up this morning and found them blistered and in pain. He guessed what had happened and said in summary, “If some power passes from you to a thing that you have made, then you must take a share in its hurts” (398).
The story is indirect, but the hints are rather clear. And while the closing line is poignant for how it links to the work of sub-creation, it has another level of significance that should be addressed. Tolkien himself observed that tales like this “that speak of their transferring part of their ‘powers’ to their artefacts, remind one in miniature of Sauron’s transference of power to the foundations of the Barad-dûr and to the Ruling Ring” (403 n. 11). Nothing is definitively said of the factuality of this story within the sub-creation, but it fits how the Drúedain were talked about by others. And this does, by all appearances, look to be a case of “magic.” But we should remember what we noted in our discussions of the subject in The Hobbit and LOTR (also see my interview here). They did not craft by attempted manipulation of an external, supernormal power or for illicit purposes. Rather, like the Hobbits, whose abilities in stealth would appear as “magic” to others, they are working by an inherent capacity they mysteriously have.
The Istari
As I have revisited the matter of the Istari and their mission multiple times in my LOTR and Silmarillion commentaries, I will not repeat everything here on the chapter about them in this volume. On those occasions, I referred to Tolkien’s Letter #156, which has a description of the incarnate state of the Istari quite similar to this one, as here they are said to be, “clad in bodies as of Men, real and not feigned, but subject to the fears and pains and weariness of earth, able to hunger and thirst and be slain; though because their noble spirits they did not die, and aged only by the cares and labours of many longer years” (406). Even as LOTR implicitly hints (and Tolkien explicitly says) that the mission of the Istari was taken up by the One and directed to his purposes so that he intervened at Gandalf’s death (cf. 408), this essay on the Istari similarly affirms that the Valar sent members of their own order “with the consent of Eru” (406; cf. 410). This is a reminder of who the Valar are subordinate to the One and willingly consult with him in emergencies (such as the invasion by the Númenóreans) and otherwise. And though the Valar had relocated outside of Arda, Manwë, Eru’s appointed King of Arda, “was still not a mere observer” (412).
At the same time, this version of the story carries on the impression also conveyed in The Silmarillion that the Valar had previously erred in their approach to the Elves when they invited them to the Undying Lands. For we are told that the limitations they placed on the incarnate Istari were done with the purpose of:
desiring to amend the errors of old, especially that they had attempted to guard and seclude the Eldar by their own might and glory fully revealed; whereas now their emissaries were forbidden to reveal themselves in forms of majesty, or to seek to rule the wills of Men or Elves by open display of power, but coming in shapes weak and humble were bidden to advise and persuade Men and Elves to good, and to seek to unite in love and understanding all those whom Sauron, should he come again, would endeavour to dominate and corrupt. (406)
This reflects what has been presented elsewhere about their mission, but this is the only note thus far that has indicated that it was connected with a sense of error in past actions. There is also a hint here of a kenotic or self-limiting notion of incarnation in parallel with the Incarnation of the Son (Phil 2:6–7). While they are somewhat similar in concept, and there may even be a line of inspiration for why Tolkien writes in this fashion, Tolkien himself warns against making too much of the parallel in Letter #181: “But though one may be in this reminded of the Gospels, it is not really the same thing at all. The Incarnation of God is an infinitely greater thing than anything I would dare to write.”
Courage for Olórin
In one version of the story of the Istari being appointed, Manwë makes a point of calling forth Olórin to join the others in their mission. Olórin insisted he was not fit for this role because “he was too weak for such a task, and that he feared Sauron. Then Manwë said that was all the more reason why he should go” (410). This is a reminder of the nature of courage, a virtue Olórin, later to be known as Gandalf, would exemplify alongside other heroes of the Third Age. By comparison, peacefulness does not consist in simply being nonviolent, as one can merely be harmless. But one who is capable of great violence and chooses the way of peace is the one who is truly peaceful. In the same way, courage does not consist of the absence of fear; that is simply fearlessness, and that can be dangerous for oneself and others who depend on one, just as cowardice is similarly dangerous. Rather, courage works in the face of fear and what inspires it (danger, the unknown, and so on), overcoming fear with resolute acts of will, not allowing what is feared to control oneself. Courage is a virtue that upholds other virtues in supplying the resolution to do what must be done in the face of obstacles. And in its fullest exercise, it is a virtue that is itself upheld by others like the theological virtues of faith, love, and hope. This is part of that fusion of horizons Tolkien has described elsewhere when the gospel came to the northern Europeans. Thus, various expressions for courage in the Bible involve being strong/strengthened (Num 13:20; Deut 1:38; 3:28; 31:6–7, 23; Josh 1:6–9, 18; 10:25; Judg 7:11; Ruth 1:18; 2 Sam 10:12 // 1 Chr 19:13; 1 Kgs 2:2 // 1 Chr 28:20; 1 Chr 22:13; 2 Chr 32:7; Ezra 10:4; Dan 11:32; Mic 3:8; Zec 8:9, 13; 1 Cor 16:13; Eph 3:16), resolution in heart (Pss 27:14; 31:24; Isa 35:4; Jer 51:46; Hag 2:4; John 14:27; Acts 11:23; 2 Thess 2:17; 2 Tim 3:10–11; Jas 5:8), being comforted in the face of trial (1 Sam 23:16; John 16:33; Acts 23:11; 27:22, 25; 2 Cor 5:6, 8; 10:12; Heb 13:5–6), and speaking/acting with freedom (Acts 4:13, 29, 31; 9:27–28; 13:46; 14:3; 18:26; 19:8; 26:26; 28:31; 2 Cor 3:12; Eph 6:19–20; Phil 1:20; 1 Thess 2:2; Heb 3:6; 10:35).
Olórin is also fit for the task because of how he enkindles hope. We have seen this quality in both LOTR and The Silmarillion, and we see it again here:
though he loved the Elves, he walked among them unseen, or in form as one of them, and they did not know whence came the fair visions or the promptings of wisdom that he put into their hearts. [this passage is from the “Valaquenta” in The Silmarillion]
In an earlier version of this passage it is said that Olórin was ‘counsellor of Irmo,’ and that in the hearts of those who hearkened to him awoke thought ‘of fair things that had not yet been but might yet be made for the enrichment of Arda.’ (414)
This is because of what he learned from the Valar, especially Nienna, about a higher wisdom also relayed in Scripture. Beyond the many, many cases of the Bible declaring God’s vindication and exaltation of the humble and humbling of the exalted, such as what we have seen previously, there are some other texts worth noting. For example, one is reminded of Jesus’s praise of the Father that he has hidden the things of the kingdom from the wise and learned, instead revealing them to little children (Matt 11:25–26 // Luke 10:21), the opposite of what many might have expected, and all the more remarkable because of how lowly children were held in this regard. Likewise, Paul reminds the Corinthians that the message of the cross is considered utter foolishness to those who ignore it, and yet through this message and through those who have accepted it, God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise and the weak things of the world to shame the strong (1 Cor 1:18–31). Thus, Paul instructs the Corinthians:
Let no one deceive himself; if anyone thinks he is wise among you in this age, let that one become foolish, so that this one should be made wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness before God; for it is written, “He is the one who catches the wise in their craftiness,” and again, “The Lord knows the reasonings of the wise, that they are futile.” Therefore, let no one boast in humans; for all things are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things about to be, all of them are yours, but you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s. (1 Cor 3:18–23, personal translation)
And so it was peculiar to him that he had “love and knowledge of the ‘Halflings,’ because his wisdom had presage of their ultimate importance, and at the same time he perceived their inherent worth” (416). Conversely, it is said of Gondor that “Gandalf could do little to guide their proud rulers or to instruct them, and it was only in the decay of their power, when they were ennobled by courage and steadfastness in what seemed a losing cause, that he began to be deeply concerned with them” (416).
He could fan the flames of their courage because he was an enkindler of hope. A key line from the Council of Elrond illustrates this well:
It is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not. It is wisdom to recognize necessity, when all other courses have been weighed, though as folly it may appear to those who cling to false hope. Well, let folly be our cloak, a veil before the eyes of the Enemy! For he is very wise, and weighs all things to a nicety in the scales of his malice. But the only measure that he knows is desire, desire for power; and so he judges all hearts. Into his heart the thought will not enter that any will refuse it, that having the Ring we may seek to destroy it. If we seek this, we shall put him out of reckoning. (II/2)
We see that his mindset is one for which as long as there is any trace of hope, there is no room for despair. And no one knows enough about the future to be reasonable in their despair. This is why he hoped for Gollum’s cure, even if he did not think it likely. The course of action the Free Peoples take may not be ideal, but it is necessary, and it is wisdom to recognize necessity. And there is wisdom that resembles folly, but it is divine wisdom that is higher than the wisdom of the world. We have noted this previously, and it is especially emphasized in the opening chapters of 1 Corinthians in reference to the gospel, which was a stumbling block for the Jews and folly to the Greeks. Just as Gandalf had regard for the little ones the other Wise overlooked and who troubled their counsel, he sees again the divine wisdom in this that only looks like folly to the world and to the evil powers.