Someone recently asked me if there was much appeal in Tolkien for female readers. Curiously, this came at a time when I’ve found myself discussing Visualizing Middle-earth with a lot of women.
What is it about fantasy fiction that gives people the impression certain stories or authors only appeal to men or women? Take a C.J. Cherryh story, for example. She writes a pretty hard and fast science fiction story, but her fantasy can be both deep and moving, or sonorous as Tolkien might have put it. A good dip into Cherryh fantasy brings the reader into close quarters with women, men, love, hate, anger, and flashing swords. But I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anyone say, “C.J. Cherryh — there’s a women’s author if ever I’ve read one!”
For some reason, Tolkien has a reputation for leaving the ladies out of his books. But as nearly as I can tell, he puts a female character into most of the important sub-plots: there is Lobelia Sackville-Baggins and her quest for control over Bag End; Rosie Cotton has an undercurrent of wistful longing for Sam; Goldberry enchants the Hobbits while they visit Bombadil (and she foreshadows Galadriel and Eowyn in curious ways); Arwen graces the feast held in Frodo’s honor and later sings a hymn of Valinor which captures Frodo’s attention; the Balrog dances a jig with the serving girls in Moria.
Well, okay, Tolkien didn’t actually say that about the Balrog.
The point is that — even in many scenes where no female characters are present — Tolkien manages to bring women and lost loves into the picture. Ask anyone what they remember most vividly about Merry and Pippin’s encounter with Treebeard, and they will probably say something about the Entmoot or the storming of Isengard. But ask them what the most interesting question concerning the Ents is, and they’ll probably say, “What happened to the Ent-wives?”
How is it that the Ent-wives merit so much curiosity when they aren’t even in the story? They don’t even have an impact on the story. It’s not like Treebeard pulls out some ancient Ent-wife comb and says, “Here, lads. Take this comb and use it to ease your journey through the orchards of Rohan and Gondor, where the trees remember Fimbrethil and honor her name.” The lonely old boy goes on at quite some length about his lost love and her little clique. But what do the Ent-wives add to the story, except a tinge of femininity? In a book that supposedly eschews women, Tolkien has one of the most powerful characters wistfully sing about the Ents and their lost mates.
Is this the sort of stuff the stereotypical fan-boy supposedly eats up in his sword-hacking fiction? I don’t think so. The whole scene reminds me of those formulaic Hollywood war flicks, where the soldiers are sitting around the campfire talking about their girls back home. But instead of focusing on some assembly-line actor rattling off lines about how he’s going to marry Becky Sue, settle down, and have a ton of kids (although he has no idea he’ll be buying the farm in the minefield just over the hill), Tolkien gives us flashbacks of the tragic history of the Ents. These include Treebeard’s account of how the Ents and Ent-wives grew apart, and the Elves’ songs marking the poignance of their separation with song.
Treebeard knows he’s not going to find Fimbrethil. He longs for her in the way that only a man who has realized his terrible mistake can. It’s a bit of tenderness set amid a landscape of hardy adventurers doing the manly thing, whatever the manly thing may be. In Treebeard’s case, he was sniffing around the edges of the forest, trying to figure out what was going on. He had a lot of thinking to do, and had been thinking a lot. Yet, in coming to the realization that the Ents were still strong, Treebeard was lollygagging about, reminiscing over lost loves and vanished girlfriends. Someone, please give me a hanky.
When it comes to displays of macho mentality, the Rohirrim aren’t much better off than the Ents. Theoden is grieving over his lost son, of course, but Eowyn is steadfastly by his side, offering her support even when all she really wants to do is lop off Wormtongue’s head. Eomer falls all over himself in a manly bout of political correctness when he meets up with Aragorn Gimli, and Legolas. After a brief exchange of threats with the dwarf and elf, Eomer reveals that he could really use a hand back at Edoras. Whom does Eowyn ask for help?
As cliched as the manly but sensitive hero may seem to be these days, Tolkien filled his book with them. There have been innumerable jokes about Sam and Frodo, including innuendo and fan fiction which put them together in ways the author never would have dreamed of. But there are also scenes where Sam comes on like a blood-thirsty thug. He kills an Orc in Moria, and he threatens Gollum more than once. In fact, Tolkien lays the blame for Gollum’s final fall directly at Sam’s insensitive feet. Had Sam paid closer attention to the changes in Gollum’s personality, things might have turned out differently.
But Sam was focusing on the mission, and at the same time, he was concerned about Frodo. It was Sam who stood up to Faramir after Sam blurted out his feelings concerning Boromir and the Ring. It was Sam who gushed and googled at the Field of Cormallen when Aragorn and the boys were celebrating Frodo’s gallantry and success. Frodo seems rather emotionless through thick and thin, but Sam rides the rollercoaster of love, hate, and happiness. He gives nearly every emotion a double spin at some point in the book. There should be an old saying among Tolkien readers don’t rake with the gardener, dude!
Curiously, Gondor is about the only place where women are trivialized. That is, no Gondorian woman (in the main story) really achieves much. We get Ioreth and her babbling commentaries peppered with the lore of old wives. Of course, it’s Celeborn who properly points out that old wives often remember things that were once needful for the wise to know. But not many people want to give Celeborn his due. He seems to sit in Galadriel’s shadow, and she gets all the glory.
Lothlorien is a magical place, but most of the magic seems to be attributed to Galadriel, directly or indirectly. Until the Company is brought before the rulers of the land, the Elves speak of the Lord and Lady with equal reverence. But once Celeborn reneges on his greeting, and Galadriel gently rebukes him, readers drop away from Celeborn’s banner in droves. It takes a strong man to accept his wife’s rebuke in front of the kingdom, after he’s just said he’d rather leave the eight wanderers to their deaths across the border. If Celeborn were really unsure of himself, he’d have tried to show his masculinity by putting Galadriel in her place. But he accords Galadriel a great deal of respect. He values her opinion enough that he doesn’t cater to any conventions that “women should be seen and not heard”.
I’m not sure if Celeborn strikes any women as sexy. He is the stern, quiet type of Elf. He’s the sort of fellow you hope you meet while his wife has a positive influence on him. Celeborn, after all, leads armies of Elven warriors. It’s not Galadriel who takes the offensive after Sauron is overthrown; Celeborn does the dirty work. In “The History of Galadriel and Celeborn”, her name may come first in the title, but it’s Celeborn who risks everything to lead a sortie against Sauron’s army in the War of the Elves and Sauron. And despite the fact that she has a mirror which reveals all sorts of pretty pictures, Galadriel doesn’t have a word to offer the Company concerning their journey south. Celeborn has to explain the deal to the travelers.
Not that traveling through perilous lands is the sole province of men in Tolkien. Arwen trots back and forth across the same mountains where her mother was taken by Orcs. People make a big fuss about how Elrond brought Arwen back to Rivendell in the year 3018 because the lands to the east were growing dangerous. Maybe so, but in Minas Tirith, Gandalf points out that if Smaug had not been killed decades before, there might have been no Queen for Aragorn (in “The Quest of Erebor”, published in Unfinished Tales). When Frodo sits on the high seat at Amon Hen[[,]] he sees visions of Orcs pouring “out of a thousand holes” in the Misty Mountains. Tolkien doesn’t say which way they were heading, but I don’t get the impression it was only eastward (to the Vales of Anduin).
If Rivendell could be brought under siege during the years when Angmar was taking out the northern Dunadan kingdoms, it follows that Sauron’s forces probably had an Elven enclave or two on their list of places to attack. Thranduil’s kingdom in northern Mirkwood and Lothlorien were both attacked, so why should Rivendell be spared? Of course, there is no mention of attacks on Rivendell even in the appendices; so maybe the Orcs took a wrong turn at the High Pass and ended up in the land of the Beornings. So perhaps no merit badges were earned by the Orc Scouts that week.
Still, with all the sighing and longing going on, one might get the impression that Tolkien had included enough Romance cliches (or pseudo-cliches) to keep stereotypical female readers happy. Only that isn’t the impression one gets. In fact, a lot of people seem to get the impression that almost no women are mentioned in the book. Who counted them all? If you go by Robert Foster’s Complete Guide To Middle-earth you end up with almost as many female names as male names just in the “A” section.
Girls seem to be Tolkien’s best-kept secret. Is that why so many women actually like Tolkien? Or are the stereotypes and cliches just getting in the way of everyone’s criticism? If I had to sum up the complaints I’ve heard about Tolkien’s supposed lack of appeal to women, and his stories’ minimal inclusion of women, I would say people feel there aren’t many details concerning relationships in Middle-earth.
In fact, except for The Hobbit (which only mentions one woman, Bilbo’s mother, and offers a brief off-stage cameo by Lobelia at the end) and The Lord of the Rings, most of Tolkien’s Middle-earth stories revolve around relationships between men and women Beren and Luthien (boy meets girl, falls in love, makes an idiot of himself, is repeatedly rescued by girl), Narn i Chin Hurin (the only characters with less sense than the women are the men), Tuor and Idril (she saves the day by having an escape tunnel dug), Aldarion and Erendis (although she ends up embittered and diminished in the end), Earendil and Elwing (she saves the Silmaril and persuades the Teleri to man the ships, while all he does is get lost on the seas and fulfill a task long appointed him to by praying to Manwe). And most of these tales aren’t just relationship stories they involve adventure, life-threatening situations, commentaries on the folly of kings and princes, and emotional irony.
The briefer stories also seem to focus on how women have changed the lives or fates of Tolkien’s men. Mithrellas introduces a strain of Elvish blood into Imrazor’s family. In fact, about the only memorable thing concerning Imrazor is that he married an Elf. Oo-rah! On the other hand, we are told that Mithrellas lived in Lothlorien and was (apparently) one of Nimrodel’s companions on the road. Somehow she survived in the mountains on her own. Mithrellas is a little more interesting than her husband. Perhaps that’s why she left him in the night. Maybe she just needed a really good manicure, and by the time she got it, he had passed away. But Mithrellas had two children with Imrazor; their son and his descendants were, of course, the Lords of Dol Amroth.
The House of Eorl was ennobled by Thengel’s marriage to Morwen of Lossarnach (who just happened to be descended from the Lords of Dol Amroth, and therefore from Mithrellas). Morwen’s legacy to her five children included the height and strength of the Dunedain, a thorough knowledge of Gondor’s language and customs (mostly because Thengel didn’t get along with his father and therefore lived in Gondor for a long time), and her popularity among the Rohirrim (when she finally became their queen), which no doubt enhanced her husband’s reputation (and hence their children’s reputations as the offspring of a beloved king and queen).
And Eowyn was Morwen’s grand-daughter. Everyone seems to love Eowyn faithful niece, shield-maiden, bearer of frustrated hobbits on arduous journeys, slayer of winged steeds of the Nazgul, and champion of mankind against the Lord of the Nazgul himself. When someone complained that Eowyn turned to Faramir all too easily in the story, Tolkien pointed out that “in my experience feelings and decisions ripen very quickly (as measured by mere ‘clock-time’, which is actually not justly applicable) in periods of great stress, and especially under the expectation of imminent death. And I do not think that persons of high estate and breeding need all the petty fencing and approaches in matters of ‘love’. This tale does not deal with a period of ‘Courtly Love’ and its pretences; but with a culture more primitive (sc. less corrupt) and nobler.” (Letter 244)
Well, so much for the medievalists’ aspirations to prove that Courtly Love exists in Tolkien. Still, it’s reasonable to point out that Eowyn, at least, had never been clued into the Main Plan. Faramir knew there was a chance, however remote, that Frodo might get through and win the day for everyone. Yet Eowyn had no real hope of survival. She believed that Aragorn, who had spurned her (from her point of view), had gone off to die in battle. After Sauron finished dealing with the little armies in the field, he would turn his attention back to Minas Tirith.
How often have we been entertained by war-time love stories, in which two people come together and feel something intensely in a matter of hours or days? Books and films have been using this idea for decades, if not centuries (as far as books are concerned, at least). Love isn’t something which is predestined in Tolkien. It happens spontaneously and is as fierce as any emotion the human experience can digest. Why else would Aragorn wait so faithfully for a chance to woo Arwen, year in and year out? Most guys would have picked up other girlfriends along the way.
Faramir actually got to spend several days with Eowyn in a fairly secluded romantic setting. The Houses of Healing had their own gardens, and it appears that most of the sick and wounded people of the city were kept elsewhere, judging by Aragorn’s long night abroad in Minas Tirith healing the casualties. And just as Aragorn seemed strong and authoritative to Eowyn, so, too, must Faramir have seemed to her. He was, technically, the Ruling Steward of Gondor. He even had to return to his duties as Steward after Sauron was defeated. It’s not like she was scraping the bottom of the barrel. And when Faramir confessed his feelings for Eowyn, the two of them had spent far more time together than she had spent with Aragorn.
A man who could have been luckier in love than any other was Turin. Two Elven babes fell for him. Nellas seems to have fallen in love with Turin, but he never knew of her feelings for him, and she didn’t pursue him. Nellas was a strange Elf, a bit of a recluse, and perhaps as close to a manic-depressive as the Elves might have produced (unless Feanor were a manic-depressive — his moodiness is hard to decipher). Few people ask what became of Nellas. Was she slain when Doriath was destroyed? Did she survive its fall and live in the woods until Beleriand was ruined? Did she simply wander off and die of grief after the whole Turin story played out?
Finduilas was the other Elven love of Turin’s life. Unlike Nellas, she tried to make her feelings known, but Turin seems to have turned off his female radar or something. Tolkien tried to work out the details of their relationship, and it seems that Finduilas was torn between two loves. Yet her love for Turin proved to be greater than her love for Gwindor. And it was all for nothing. Turin acted like a dutiful servant, or maybe just a love-struck schoolboy who was too shy to admit he felt anything for Finduilas.
Although it’s hard to guess what attracted Nellas to Turin, he was clearly a strong, brave, and forthright man who must have stood out among Orodreth’s counsellors. Finduilas may have been attracted to the tall, handsome leader. Or it may be that his secretive nature made Turin seem like just the sort of mystery which Finduilas would enjoy unravelling. Or it could be that Finduilas pierced his facade of bravado, and understood something of the deep sorrow and pain Turin carried with him, even though she couldn’t know the details of his life.
In classic tragic style, however, Turin’s romantic love was finally inspired by the one woman he shouldn’t feel that way about his sister. Turin had never met Nienor before Glaurung took away her memory. Clearly, she would have seemed to him like just another forlorn victim of Morgoth’s malice. And for her part, Nienor had no way of knowing she was being rescued and cared for by her brother. Deep down inside, something tried to warn her, but there was no way for Nienor or Turin to realize what was going on. So their one chance for happiness doomed them to a cold hour of despair. There was never any real hope for either Turin or Nienor to have a happy, fulfilling relationship.
Love may not be predestined in Tolkien, but tragedy does seem to be the most visible aspect of Morgoth’s will. Cruel fate intervened even when marriages were supposedly solid. Aldarion and Erendis grew apart despite the great love they originally felt for one another. It becomes apparent only when Tar-Meneldur reads Gil-galad’s letter, that Gil-galad has been mostly responsible for Aldarion’s inevitable delays in returning home. The weather is blamed here and there, but the truth is that Aldarion sacrificed his marriage because he felt he could achieve something against the return of the darkness.
And yet, the best which can be said of Aldarion’s sacrifice is only that he delayed Sauron’s rise for a short time. And the consequences of the failure of Aldarion’s marriage were far-reaching. Had he and Erendis remained together, they might have had a son. And that son would have inherited the Sceptre instead of Tar-Ancalime, for whose sake Tar-Aldarion had the inheritance laws changed.
A whole new royal line would have been forged within the Line of Elros. Ancalime would have become like Silmarien of an earlier generation, a princess rather than a queen. And if Ancalime (who seemed to marry only so she could become Queen) didn’t have any children, then Ar-Pharazon would not have been born. He would not have seized the throne and forced his cousin Miriel to marry him. Sauron would not have been taken to Numenor, and the Numenoreans would not have tried to take immortality from the Valar. Elendil and his sons would not have gone to Middle-earth.
And yet, if Aldarion had not become so engrossed in Gil-galad’s policies, to the exclusion of his relationship with Numenor and his family, what would have become of Middle-earth? Would Numenor still have come to the aid of the Eldar when Sauron attacked? Would Numenor have been able to achieve anything were it to have tried? Aldarion’s works in Middle-earth were not lasting, but he is attributed with laying the foundation of their later victories. And if he had not been so enamored of the sea, would Aldarion have paid attention to the forests? Would Numenor have been able to construct its great navy without the forestry of Tar-Aldarion, in both Middle-earth and Numenor itself?
Tolkien’s two great tragic stories both had far-reaching implications. Because of Turin’s excesses, Nargothrond was destroyed, leaving Doriath isolated and without allies. Beleriand’s doom may have remained uncertain even after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, until Nargothrond was destroyed. Even more generations of Elves and Men would have been born to suffer through the long war. Or, worse, Glaurung might have been sent against a different Elven realm. If he had attacked Gondolin, would Tuor, Idril, and Earendil have escaped? Turin slew the mightiest dragon of his day. With that one deed he achieved a lot of good, even though the Eldar and Edain eventually lost the war and all their realms.
Because of Aldarion’s distractions, Numenor was prepared for the great role it would one day play in Middle-earth’s affairs. The choices of Aldarion’s descendants might have been made by other individuals, but he ensured that Numenor would be closely tied to Middle-earth. If he had remained at home, Numenor would have continued to ignore Middle-earth. Gil-galad would have found himself without powerful allies. And without the alliance, the Numenoreans might not have colonized Middle-earth. Even if Elendil and his sons still escaped the ruin of Numenor, would there have been any Numenorean colonies for them to recruit into the kingdoms-in-exile?
When Boromir tried to take the Ring from Frodo, he asked, “Is it not a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a thing?” Is love such a small thing? Not to us, no. But when people go looking for love in Tolkien, they seem to be looking in all the wrong places. The Lord of the Rings is not a story about passionate, sexual love. It’s a story about a higher, nobler love love of freedom, love of life, love of all that is good. Ultimately, it is the power of Frodo’s love (for his friends, for his Shire, and for all Middle-earth) which sustains him enough to take him to the point where his actions become unnecessary. Had Sam not spurned Gollum’s attempts at love and loyalty, Tolkien suggests, Gollum probably would have thrown himself into the Fire.
It is the strangeness of love which leads all of Middle-earth to the fateful choices that its heroic individuals make. Tolkien’s love is tortured and tainted; it’s pure and noble as well. But it is often bound up with the fates of nations, and Tolkien uses love to break down barriers his characters weren’t even aware existed. Had it not been for Beren’s love of Luthien, and her reciprocation, Morwen would not have had a friend in Thingol. And had Turin not been raised in Doriath, would he have brought down Nargothrond and slain Glaurung? Would the wars of Beleriand have been protracted because Hurin’s son grew up a slave, untrained in the arts of war by the greatest warriors of the Sindar?
Every time love broke down some boundary, Middle-earth was changed. Both Elves and Men were enriched by their experiences with one another. But in the end, it was the great loves they shared which led them to their victories. Every star-crossed lover in Tolkien went on to achieve something vital Beren and Luthien took a Silmaril from Morgoth; Turin killed Glaurung; Tuor and Idril saved Earendil; Earendil and Elwing reunited and found a way to Valinor; Aldarion and Erendis set into motion events which led to the Downfall of Numenor and the salvation of the Faithful Dunedain; Treebeard’s loss of Fimbrethil laid the foundation for his friendship with Merry and Pippin; and Aragorn’s rejection of Eowyn (because of his love for Arwen) set Eowyn on the path to her removing a terrible evil from Middle-earth.
Maybe The Lord of the Rings wasn’t intended to be the culmination of a long history of loves and broken (or sorely tested)` relationships, but the appendices are filled with hints and glints of the mighty relationships which forged the destiny of Middle-earth. It may be that Tolkien knew what he was doing after all, and he just didn’t clutter up the finale of the long tale with endless distractions. After all, it was his lifelong dream to tell the great stories that were in his heart. The Lord of the Rings was in a way an endless distraction for Tolkien, who really wanted to sit back and talk about lost loves, forbidden loves, and how fantastic women can be in a fantasy world.
This article was originally published on February 23, 2001.
I think that the books weren’t meant to be for only men nor women. You like it or you don’t, that’s it.
I do have another question tough, what is the difference between men-orcs, orcmen, halforcs and goblin-men and where did they came from?
I think they are all the same, although some people try to differentiate them on the basis of parenthood or something like that. As far as I can recall, only Saruman is attributed with breeding them (but then, in the essays published in Morgoth’s Ring Tolkien suggested that Morgoth had cross-bred Orcs with Men).