And of course, what happens when Eowyn meets the Witch-King is that he sees her and thinks “Shit! Waitaminute…” and is then stabbed from behind with a shortsword +1/+2 vs. undead; special purpose, Slay Nazgul; special purpose power, Make Nazgul Vulnerable to Normal Weapons, one use (coincidentally not in the hands of a man, either). It wasn’t that Eowyn could slay him just by virtue of being a woman, but that the prophesy foresaw that the person on hand when the Witch-King’s permanent protection from normal weapons enchantment was dispelled would not be a man.
Yeah, that Aragorn, he’s brave, mightly, and honorable. Especially the part about dispatching his major enemy by having a thief stab him from behind.
:dubious:
Merry was no thief, only Bilbo was. Merry was a brave hobbit Warrior. Captain Meridoc the Magnificient. Speak no evil of your betters you knave. 
Battles are not duels. But if they were, suppose we let Aragorn cop a plea of “not even there at the time, never mind giving Merry Brandybuck any such orders”?
:dubious: [sup]3[/sup]
Goodness me, that “honourable foes shouldn’t stab the enemy by surprise” kvetching went out with Glaurung.
As reflected by Julian Symons, commenting on Orwell’s famous weekly column in Tribune, called ‘As I Please’:
‘To those who attacked [Orwell’s] distrust of mechanization as that of a Lollard crying out for the past he replied that “By retaining one’s childhood love of such things as trees, fishes, butterflies…one makes a peaceful and decent future a little more probable, and by preaching the doctrine that nothing is to be admired except steel and concrete, one merely makes it a little surer that human beings will have no outlet for their surplus energy except in hatred and leader-worship”.’
Hmm, Merry Brandybuck (or Eowyn; or both together) plays Macduff. :dubious:
And of course, talking of stealing things from Macbeth, the Ents turning up at Isengard is kinda derivative.
I like to imagine the few remaining troops on watch shouting “Run, lads, it’s the copse!”. 
I don’t think it was possible for Lewis to influence Tolkein. Simply put, the two could talk about a lot of things, but never did their writings meet. Even at its closest, there’s a vast divide between the character of their writings.
Also, I want to restate that I don’t think the Witch-King was delivering or noting any kind of prophecy. He was just bragging about how bad@$$ he was. And Eowyn was just saying the medeival version of: “punk off, biatch.”
It was definately a prophecy. In the time of the last King Earnil?? the Seer of Gondor stated the prophecy. I don’t have time to hit the books for details. But I will search for the details later.
My details were wrong:
Holding on to his shaft?Sounds like they were headed for mount fire island (not that there is anything wrong with that)
Dear guy who’s just read Lord of the Rings:
My husband is a rich, successful businessman in his thirties. But every time we go out to eat at a fancy restaurant, he insists on using his salad-fork to eat his entree and his dinner-fork to eat his salad! I’ve told him he’s using his forks backwards, but he just won’t quit doing it! What should I do?
Signed,
Perplexed in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania
AINULINDALE - The Music of the Ainur
By: J.R.R. Tolkien
There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar and he made
first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and
they were with him before aught else was made. And he spoke to them,
propounding to them themes of music; and they sang before him, and he was
glad. But for a long while they sang only each alone, or but few together,
while the rest hearkened; for each comprehended only that part of me mind of
Ilúvatar from which he came, and in the understanding of their
brethren they grew but slowly. Yet ever as they listened they came to deeper
understanding, and increased in unison and harmony.
And it came to pass that Ilúvatar called together all the Ainur and
declared to them a mighty theme, unfolding to them things greater and more
wonderful than he had yet revealed; and the glory of its beginning and the
splendour of its end amazed the Ainur, so that they bowed before
Ilúvatar and were silent. Then Ilúvatar said to them: ‘Of the
theme that I have declared to you, I will now that ye make in harmony
together a Great Music. And since I have kindled you with the Flame
Imperishable, ye shall show forth your powers in adorning this theme, each
with his own thoughts and devices, if he will. But I will sit and hearken,
and be glad that through you great beauty has been wakened into song.’
Searching through my 8-volume A Short History of the Making of the Making of the Lord of the Rings by F.A.R. Tolkien, I chanced upon this description of the song that they sang on that marvellous day:
roger thornhill writes:
> Tolkien says that Lewis didn’t influence him but was a great source of
> encouragement to him, which is quite a backhanded compliment when you think
> about it. As you all know, Tollers was around six years Lewis’s senior, and
> achieved much at an early age. Even a Professorship at Leeds counts for
> something when achieved in one’s early 30s! Now, of course they both fought
> in the war, and the affect of that on them cannot be underestimated. Tollers
> also had a less than ideal childhood. But after the war Tollers had quite an easy
> path career-wise, and indeed marriage-wise.
>
> I think a lot of this closetedness and remoteness from ordinary life comes
> through in Lord of the Rings. He was a bit like Lord Denning (famous English
> judge from Hampshire). Denning was a terrific judge in my opinion but he had
> notorious blindspots that may be traced to the closetedness of his lego-judicial
> (plus rural) background. Famously, he just couldn’t believe that police beat up
> suspects, when the whole of the rest of Britain (except the other judges he met
> at the Atheneum Club or wherever) and its dog knew what went on.
>
> Without Lewis - simple. No LOTR. He was the fellow who kept encouraging
> Tolkien and let him read chapter after chapter at the Inklings’ meetings, even
> though others must have thought “Oh, my God! not more traipsing through the
> countryside - let’s listen to and debate some real literature!” Of course, some
> Inklings thought and said more or less exactly that. And having reread the
> book, I can sympathise. Tollers wanted “long”, and in the end he got long,
> though only because of Lewis, I think.
>
> I mentioned blindspots earlier. Anyone who could have spent around 30 years
> in Lewis’s company and not have seen his genius must have one. If it is true
> indeed that Tolkien wasn’t influenced by Lewis, then more’s the pity. The loss
> was his. So, that is why as I made my own journey recently, I felt that the
> relationship between Frodo and Sam was akin in T’s own mind (to which of
> course I have no access - but it’s fun to speculate) to that between him and
> Lewis. Of course, Sam is very important to Frodo, but at the end of the day of
> an entirely different nature. Definitely NOT a leader of men, a higher being. It’s
> significant that the book ends with Sam saying “Well, I’m back.” Yes, back
> where he belongs, with the soil.
>
> The more I read the book the more I could sense (perhaps wrongly) that
> Tolkien was investing himself in Frodo, Aragorn and Gandalf. Perhaps, indeed,
> Treebeard was based on Lewis too, but I’m not so sure. Lewis was loud, yes,
> but he was certainly not ponderous. That was Tolkien, especially in terms of
> amount of literary output, meticulousness, etc. After all, it was T who invented
> three Elvish languages, not Lewis. His fantasy world was kind of tossed
> together as he went along, as Tolkien noted.
>
> I feel the relationship between T and L was quite a complex one (which
> relationship between two such able men wouldn’t be?), and that there might
> have been an element of jealousy on T’s side.
Excuse me for coming so late to this thread. I thought that it would be about little details of Tolkien’s work, the ones that you would have to have memorized every bit of The History of Middle-earth to be able to discuss. I’m not going to get into such a discussion, since there are SDMB people like Qadgop the Mercotan
who can utterly blow me away on any such subject. Also, the earlier part of the thread was purely humorous, and there didn’t appear to be any point in offering a serious opinion about anything and being told, “WHOOSH! Are you too stupid to notice that I was making a joke?” I’m going to assume that you were serious though in the above post.
Please don’t be offended, roger thornhill, but if you’re going to pontificate about Tolkien’s life, at least read the basic materials about him. Read at least J. R. R. Tolkien: A Biography by Humphrey Carpenter, the best general biography of Tolkien and Tolkien and the Great War: The Threshold of Middle-earth by John Garth, a major contribution to the study of Tolkien’s life published a couple of years ago. You might also want to read some biographical material on Lewis too.
Tolkien remote from ordinary life? Hmm, let’s summarize his life: His father died when he was 4 years old. He, his brother, and his mother lived in what may be described as genteel poverty after that point. For much of that time, his mother was estranged from the family on either her side or on Tolkien’s father’s side because she had converted to Catholicism and neither family was happy about that. His mother died when Tolkien was 12. Because his mother wanted to make sure that the rest of the family couldn’t try to convert Tolkien and his brother back to being Protestants, she made a priest (Father Morgan) their guardian. They lived the rest of their childhood in a boarding home for orphans and were so poor they were barely getting enough to eat.
He did well at school and went on to Oxford and did well also. He acquired a set of three friends at school and the four of them thought of themselves as being future artistic saviors of the world. They all got drafted and two were killed in World War I (and Tolkien had the usual horrific experiences typical of World War I soldiers). After a couple of years scraping by financially (with a wife and kids he had to survive on a job at the OED not paying very well), he finally got a job at Leeds. He did well academically for a few years, getting a professorship at Leeds and then one at Oxford, but then his academic career stalled. He published very little academically after a couple of early works. He never made that much money as a professor and he had to support a wife and four kids on a relatively small income. How much he was just scraping by is indicated by the fact that at his retirement in 1958 he sold the manuscripts for The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings for an amount that, in dollars, was about $5,000. This was more money than he had seen (in one check) in his life and meant that he wouldn’t spend his retirement in genteel poverty.
His literary fame didn’t come until relatively late. He published The Hobbit at 45 and The Lord of the Rings at 62. It wasn’t until The Lord of the Rings got a paperback edition when he was 72 that he achieved fame. Until then, his income as an author was much less than his income from teaching, and as I said, that wasn’t very much itself.
His marriage was fairly mixed in happiness. Tolkien and his wife loved each other, but they didn’t have a lot in common. Tolkien kept his friendships with academic colleagues separate from his marriage. He didn’t have many academic friendships anyway, since he wasn’t thought of as being a major person in the English faculty at Oxford and philosophically he disagreed with his colleagues about many things. He spent much of his spare time from his twenties through his sixties on a literary project that, if he had bothered to discuss it with almost anyone else, would have been considered a crackpot venture.
There’s an important book coming out shortly about what it means for people to influence an author and how this applies to Tolkien and Lewis. It’s by Diana Glyer and it’s going to be called The Company They Keep. Glyer has some interesting theories about what sorts of influence the people around an author have on him. Lewis was an important influence on Tolkien if you use the term “influence” more broadly than it’s usually used. Often when people speak of the influence one author has on another, they mean simply, “Author A’s books have some similarities to Author B’s books, therefore B was an influence on A. If there are no obvious similarities, then there’s no influence.” The influences between Tolkien, Lewis, and the other Inklings were more subtle than this.
The relationship between Frodo and Sam has two aspects. On one hand, it’s a master-servant relationship. It’s thus like the relationship between an English gentleman and his longtime butler or like the relationship between a new lieutenant in the English army and his more experienced sergeant. On the other hand, it’s also a friendship. I think Tolkien’s friendship with Lewis was, at most, only one small thing that went into creating the relationship between Frodo and Sam.
Ah, it’s what you perceive to be “pontificating” that you don’t like. Must be an Oxonian trait. If so, forgive me. I don’t quite see where we disagree, except in repect of the fact that I’ve read numerous biographies of C.S. Lewis and one book on Tolkien and Lewis’s friendship (which mentions all of the background stuff you recite in your post). I think I mention in this thread (certainly in at least one on CSL/Tollers) that I’ve read no biography on Tollers, and indeed intend raqding the Carpenter one some time. However, I’m not convinced that reading any number of bios giving the opinion of this person or that person or snippets of hearsay evidence would enable me, any better than you or anyone else for that matter, to offer anything more than an opinion on whether one man - now dead - loved a woman - also now dead. We simply have no way of knowing such things - and people lie, hide things etc. It can indeed be argued that we don’t always know if we love another person. Or what, indeed, that means.
I consider:
> But after the war Tollers had quite an easy path career-wise, and indeed
> marriage-wise.
to be pontificating (and to be incorrect). And, as I previously said, I think “remoteness from ordinary life” is also pontificating and incorrect.
I just don’t understand:
> Anyone who could have spent around 30 years in Lewis’s company and not
> have seen his genius must have one.
Who are you talking about here? Tolkien? In what sense did Tolkien not see Lewis’s genius? Tolkien respected Lewis as much as anybody else in the English department at Oxford (where Lewis was not hugely popular). Tolkien was as much responsible for getting Lewis the chair at Cambridge as anybody else.
What does this sentence mean:
> Must be an Oxonian trait.
Were you at Oxford?
Mr. Thornhill - I would not presume to speak for Mr. Wagner, but I think the disagreement between you two comes down to your phrase “Without Lewis - simple. No LOTR.” That’s just so oversimplified that it’s wrong, it seems to me.
Tolkien & Lewis were important friends to each other for a long time, sure, but Tolkien had started his Middle Earth mythology before he met Lewis. And his son Christopher as well as the other inklings were sources, as Lewis was, of literary encouragement.
It’s more similar than you imagine. In his Prologue to LOTR, Tollers writes that it’s probably a variety of nicotiana.
Wendell, guilty as charged. But well after Tolkien had retired.
When were you at Oxford and for what part of your education?
I won an unconditional place to Merton College (Tolkien connection, of course), and matriculated in 1978. I was reading Literae Humaniores. I left - of my own accord - after just one year after suffering a mental breakdown in the long summer vacation at a time when my parents were divorcing. My supervisor very kindly told me that they’d always keep a place open for me should I want to return. In the end, I decided to resume my studies at another university - 12 years later. You may have seen my vanity thread a week or so back, in which I announced I’d just got my doctorate. That was from Reading, so probably wouldn’t be recognised by an Oxford man. Though, in my opinion, the calibre of Merton Professors one gets these days isn’t what it was.