Master of Middle Earth

by Paul H. Kocher

  All of the foregoing gives us some insight into the strong eruptions of rebellion and the hidden sensitiveness which Aragorn keeps "under control by a yet stronger will. He is no Stoic. The apparently endless labors of his lifetime sometimes seem too much to bear. But in Tolkien's world as in ours it is not required of a man that he always love his burden or be patient under it—only that he continue to bear it. Aragorn bears his, usually with a rueful humor. As if purged by his former outbursts, he accepts with good grace Frodo's observation that if Aragorn were a spy of Sauron he would "seem fairer and feel fouler." He laughs as he replies, "I look foul and feel fair. Is that it?" Repeating the jingle that "all that is gold does not glitter," which warns the hobbits to look below the surface, and unsheathing to their gaze the broken sword mentioned in the same rhyme as belonging to the crownless one who shall be King, he smiles with gentle irony at the now silent Sam: "Well, with Sam's permission we will call that settled."

  From then on he comes to respect and love the hobbits during the flight to Rivendell, and they finally to depend on his woodsmanship and courage and to like him, though they do not yet understand him well enough to love him. Frodo tells Gandalf at the end of the journey that "Strider saved us ... I have become very fond of Strider. Well, fond is not the right word. I mean he is dear to me; though he is strange and grim at times. In fact, he reminds me often of you." Like pupils, like master, though Aragorn has sorrows and ambitions of a human kind that the wizard can never know. He can joke with the hobbits about the birds' nests behind the stone trolls' ears but he can also, as they near Riverdell where Arwen is, sing with a "strange, eager face" and shining eyes the haunting lay about the love of the man Beren and the elfin princess Lúthien, which so strangely forecasts his and Arwen's own love. None of the hobbits has the faintest glimmer of an idea why Aragorn chooses this particular legend to recite, and neither have we at first reading, thanks to Tolkien's failure to mention Arwen at all up to that point. But in the light of later revelations it can dawn on us that the longing for Arwen is a torment, a joy, a despair, a comfort to Aragorn in a time of little hope. Small wonder that he is "strange and grim at times," but he seldom speaks of the life of private emotion stirring within.

  Whether, safely arrived at Rivendell with his charges, Aragorn has many opportunities for lovers' meetings Tolkien does not say. Presumably at least some. The indications, however, are that they are few. Frodo sees him with Arwen only once, and then they are only talking together in the presence of Elrond. Aragorn is gone much of the time with the sons of Elrond, scouting the country for Sauron's forces. He is not even present at the feast celebrating Frodo's recovery, though he manages to get away from his duties in time for the music afterward. Besides, things are rather awkward for Aragorn in the house of Elrond. He is still on probation, as it were, under the ban of Arwen's father against pressing his suit with her so long as he remains a homeless wanderer unable to offer her the rank she merits by birth and worth. This sort of parental restriction might mean little to what Treebeard would call more "hasty lovers," but it is one which Arwen and Aragorn both have felt bound to honor through years of separation. We can treat it as a mere fairy-tale prohibition, if we like, but if we accept the tradition of the genre we cannot interpret the lovers' acceptance of it as meaning that they do not deeply love each other.

  We do not need to look upon the situation as merely traditional, however. Tolkien has so drawn the characters of the lovers as to make their obedience entirely in character, without detracting from the ardor of their love. Arwen is deeply devoted to her father and her kin, the noblest among the elves. Marrying Aragorn will mean that she must surrender her immortality as an elf and become a mortal being whose soul at death will be separated from the soul of her people while time endures, and perhaps eternally. She will do it, but she owes it to her father to fulfill his conditions before taking the hardly imaginable parting step.

  On his side Aragorn has many reasons for respecting Elrond's wishes. He has been saved since infancy and trained by Elrond, incurring a heavy debt of gratitude and at the same time feeling for him something of the affection due to a father. Moreover, Aragorn is a man who, as later developments will show, has a strong sense of the importance of authority, propriety, law. It is by these principles that he governs when he himself becomes king in the end. He knows that if he expects his subjects to obey him freely out of respect for these principles he must first learn to obey them himself. It is unthinkable that he would urge Arwen to run off with him into the woods without her father's consent, or perhaps even with it. To ask Arwen to marry him under the best of conditions is to ask her to receive eventual old age and death, "the choice of Lúthien" as she herself calls it, an intolerable gift for any sensitive man to bestow on the woman he loves. The one thing he cannot do in that position is to press his suit hard upon her. Hence his apparent inactivity in wooing, and also the deep inner convulsions of his mind, the outward grimness, as he confronts the complex ironies of his lot.

  When the members of Elrond's Council assemble to decide what to do with Sauron's Ring, Aragorn sits "in a corner alone . . . clad in his travel-worn clothes again" and takes no leading role in the final decision. This he leaves to Elrond and Gandalf, whose ideas about the Ring he knows from their years of mutual search for it, and which by his silence he approves. The task Aragorn sets himself is to win over Boromir, who as eldest son of the present Steward ruling in Gondor is a key factor in his hopes to ascend its throne. Nominally the Stewards still hold it in fealty to a rightful King who may return, but for centuries the southern branch of Elendil's heirs has been extinct, and nobody in Gondor dreams that any direct descendant of Isildur survives in the northern branch. Gondor's dire need for help against Sauron's armies and a recurring dream urging Boromir to seek it at Rivendell through "the Sword that was broken" give Aragorn his opportunity to reveal himself and assert his claim. As soon as Boromir has told his story, Aragorn dramatically casts on the table the two pieces of his sword and identifies it as the weapon of the dream. To a surprised Boromir Elrond then introduces Aragorn as "descended through many fathers from Isildur, Elendil's son of Minas Ithil" and hence by implication the legal heir to Gondor's throne, of which Elendil was first founder. Frodo exclaims that then Aragorn also must be rightful owner of the Ring, since his ancestor Isildur once owned and lost it. But Aragorn immediately renounces all ownership in it, and later in the scene says that he helped Gandalf search for it only because "it seemed fit that Isildur's heir should labour to repair Isildur's fault." He toiled only to undo an inherited wrong. As far as he is concerned the Ring belongs to nobody.

  Instead, when Frodo displays the Ring, Aragorn relates an ancient prophecy among his people that when the Ring is found the sword, which Elendil broke while fighting with Sauron, will be reforged. Having thus reinforced the identification of the present sword as Elendil's, he presses Boromir directly with the question, "Now you have seen the sword that you have sought, what would you ask? Do you wish for the House of Elendil to return to the Land of Gondor?" The dynastic resonances of the question are obviously crucial. Boromir dodges them by admitting that the "sword," (not the "House") of Elendil would be immensely helpful—if indeed it is the true sword of Elendil. Aragorn replies with a courteous but firm kingliness: "I forgive your doubt." Little does he resemble at the moment the figures of his great ancestors, he admits, because he has had "a hard life and a long," enduring many journeys. But his home is in the North. He stresses the fact, vital to his legal title, that the line of descent in the northern kings has never been broken: " 'For here the heirs of Valandil have ever dwelt in long line unbroken from father unto son for many generations.'"

  Boromir in his opening speech has boasted that his city of Minas Tirith stands as the sole bulwark against Sauron, "and thus alone are peace and freedom maintained in the lands behind us, bulwark of the West." Aragorn rebuffs that vaunt by recounting the exploits of his Dúnedain: "You know little of the lands beyond your
bounds. Peace and freedom, do you say? The North would have known them little but for us. Fear would have destroyed them. But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from sunless woods, they fly from us." And for this service the Rangers have not had the glory and the thanks Gondor has. But now that the Ring is found, the times are changing. Aragorn abandons his earlier exploratory question to Boromir and concludes with a decisive assertion: "I will come to Minas Tirith." Boromir still avoids an answer by demanding proof that the Ring Frodo has shown him is in fact Sauron's Ring of power. In verification Frodo and Gandalf join in reconstructing the movements of the Ring from the time when Isildur cut it off Sauron's hand until it came through Gollum to Bilbo and thence to Frodo. Seventeen years ago when he began to suspect that the ring Bilbo had was the ruling Ring, Gandalf says, he called upon the Dúnedain to help guard the Shire, "and I opened my heart to Aragorn, the heir of Isildur." Significantly, by giving him this title Gandalf is adding to Elrond's his endorsement of Aragorn's legitimacy as claimant to Gondor.

  Aragorn's successful capture and imprisonment of Gollum offers us a contrast with the behavior of Gandalf, Frodo, and Sam under comparable circumstances. Says Aragorn, describing the capture, "He will never love me, I fear; for he bit me, and I was not gentle. Nothing more did I ever get from his mouth than the marks of his teeth. I deemed it the worst part of all my journey, the road back, watching him day and night, making him walk before me with a halter on his neck, gagged, until he was tamed by lack of drink and food, driving him ever toward Mirk-wood." There Aragorn left Gollum with the elves of the forest to be kept secure for later questioning by Gandalf.

  Anyone who thinks that Aragorn, the future King, is or should be all sweetness and light should reflect on this passage. He is not gratuitously cruel to his prisoner but he feels no need to be gentle with the malevolent. Whatever measures of binding, gagging, and starving are necessary to his job of getting the slippery wretch into strong hands without danger of escape he takes. Not that he has no pity for Gollum. He recognizes that "he had suffered much. There is no doubt that he was tormented, and the fear of Sauron lies black on his heart." But such a one is far too dangerous to be on the loose. "His malice is great," and Aragorn is sure that he had just come from Mordor "on some evil errand." Under such circumstances there is a stern justice about Aragorn that weighs and rejects the risk of mercy. Consequently he does not get from Gollum the information which Gandalf later manages to charm out of him, but neither does he lose his prisoner to rescuing ores as do the elves, through what Legolas admits was "overkindliness." Also he never comes close to winning Gollum's loyalty as Frodo does, but then he never suffers the concomitant betrayal, either. What Aragorn lacks is the conviction of Gandalf and Frodo that a free Gollum will perform ultimate good that Gollum himself does not intend. But this is an intuition beyond all reason. As King, Aragorn will later know how to temper justice with forgiveness. But we cannot expect a practical judge to act upon irrational intuitions that a criminal left at large intending to do evil will do good without meaning to.

  The last stage of the skirmish between Aragorn and Boromir at the Council opens with the latter's proposal to its members that the Ring be not destroyed but wielded by one of their number against Sauron its maker. Already the thought of using it himself, which is implemented later in his attempt to snatch it from Frodo by force at Parth Galen, is stirring in his mind. Informed by Elrond of the Ring's deadly power for evil, he submits "doubtfully" for the time being and, in lieu, comes back to the possibility that for Gondor "the Sword-that-was-Broken may still stem the tide —if the hand that wields it has not inherited an heirloom only, but the sinews of the Kings of Men." Not a tactful doubt, but Boromir is a blunt man. Aragorn returns a soft answer, which is also soothingly indefinite as to time: "Who knows? We will put it to the test one day." Not wanting to return home empty-handed Boromir then moves on to the important step of issuing what is, in effect, as outright and immediate an invitation to Aragorn as his pride allows: "May the day not be too long delayed . . . For though I do not ask for aid, we need it."

  By a combination of tact and boldness Aragorn has now won from Boromir everything he wants: recognition that the sword is Elendil's and that Aragorn is its rightful owner by unbroken succession, together with an invitation to accompany him back to Gondor without delay. Of course, Boromir is not yet yielding any specific admissions on the question of the succession. It is hard to visualize a man so dedicated to power eventually surrendering his position of advantage, as Faramir does afterward. What will happen when the two men reach Minas Tirith will happen. But Aragorn has already made a great stride toward his goal.

  In keeping with his faith in individual freedom of choice is Elrond's refusal to exact an oath from any member of the Fellowship as to how far he will accompany Frodo. Each is to go only so far as he wills, and can turn back at any time. The general understanding at the outset is only that "they are willing to go at least to the passes of the Mountains, and maybe beyond." Aragorn clearly intends to go with Boromir to help defend Minas Tirith, not to accompany Frodo into Mordor. He says as much when he smilingly asks leave of Frodo once again to go be his companion, and Frodo welcomes him with the delighted cry, "I would have begged you to come . . . only I thought you were going to Minas Tirith with Boromir." Aragorn answers, "I am . . . But your road and our road lie together for many hundreds of miles." To leave the options open as Elrond wishes, Aragorn and Gandalf make definite plans only as far as their stopover in Lothlórien, after which the members of the Company are to decide their several courses for the next stage. This vagueness of planning will throw Aragorn into an unexpected conflict of duties after Gandalf's disappearance in Moria and will thwart his desire to hasten on to Gondor.

  On the night of their leaving Rivendell the Company wait silent and subdued. Aragorn, in particular, "sat with his head bowed to his knees; only Elrond knew fully what this hour meant to him." What it means is the beginning of the supreme trials which are to determine whether he dies defeated or lives to win Arwen and his crown. The odds against him are high, but he is girding up his will to overcome them. Once the Nine Walkers are on the trail southward he becomes again the excellent companion the hobbits have come to know when his cares do not press too heavily on him—dependable, approachable, and full of hope. Estel ("I hope") he was named as a child, and his natural buoyancy asserts itself when it can.

  Aside from the normal precautions against lurking dangers, Aragorn's main concern in the first part of the trip is to persuade Gandalf not to cross the Misty Mountains via the Moria caverns from which, as legends tell, Durin's dwarves were driven by a Balrog fleeing there from Morgoth's overthrow. Devoted as he is to his old mentor, Aragorn has a strong presentiment that Gandalf will never come out alive if he meets that dire spirit of the underworld. King Celeborn of Lórien evidently has the same thought later, for on hearing of Gandalf's death he exclaims against his "folly, going needlessly into the net of Moria." Galadriel comments more wisely, however, that none of Gandalf's actions was ever needless. She seems to mean that although Gandalf knew his peril he accepted even death if necessary as the only way to speed the Ring-bearer on his mission. There was no other pass over or around the mountains once cruel Caradhras hurled his blizzards at the travelers and Saruman blocked the Gap of Rohan against them.

  After their escape from Moria, for all the survivors of the Company Lórien is a timeless land of rest, which yet harbors secret tests of purity of heart. One can find himself there, like Gimli, or lose himself, like Boromir. But Aragorn alone has passed that way before. There, years ago, he and Arwen plighted their troth, standing on the grave mound of King Amroth, who died for hopeless love, rejecting in favor of mortal life both the Shadow of Sauron in the East and the everlasting twilight of the elven lands in the West. Frodo sees Aragorn standing quietly, remembering her, "and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord tall and fair; and he spoke words in the Elvish tongue to one whom Frodo could no
t see. Arwen vanimelda, namárië! he said . . ." And to Frodo smiling: ". . . here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we must still tread, you and I."

  The loss of Gandalf has left Aragorn as head of the Fellowship, but it is a tenuous headship that is limited by the free choices of its members and exercisable only by persuasion, if at all. He has acquitted himself well at the crisis caused by Gimli's absolute refusal to be blindfolded on entering the woods of Lórien. His statesmanlike solution of putting them all on an equal footing by asking that all be blindfolded has pacified the dwarf's stubborn pride. A man who can bring this off will make a fair and wise king. He is bound by Elrond's instructions, however, not to try to order what each person will do next for the future of the Quest. Boromir clearly is still going to Minas Tirith. But Aragorn himself can no longer say with his first happy assurance that he is going with Boromir, as at heart he still longs to do. Gandalf is not there to go with the Ring-bearer, as Aragorn suspects he would have done. Must Aragorn now take his place, or is his first duty still to his city of Minas Tirith? He rather inclines to interpret the prophecy of the dream to mean the latter. Of course, Frodo may decide to approach Mordor either directly from the north or indirectly through Minas Tirith from the west. If from the west, there is no problem until Frodo leaves the city, and meantime Aragorn can proceed there with a clear conscience. But Frodo has expressed no preference, and Aragorn cannot escape the feeling that the Ring-bearer must be left to make up his own mind. Should not Aragorn at least offer the best advice he can, though? And has he not some obligations now to the others who compose the Company? They also are undecided, and such indications as they give show that they are divided.