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 Post subject: Re: Our place...
PostPosted: June 26th, 2006, 8:30 am 
Hobbit
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Sinbearer wrote:
I hear you Calathiel! This world is a pretty painful and sad place.

CS Lewis commented that Tolkien’s LotR had "a profound melancholy." The ending is tearfully sad. Frodo exhausts himself and cannot even enjoy the fruit of his labor in ME. The evil threat is destroyed but the triumph is only temporary. Evil will reinvent itself in some alarming new form, and the free creatures of Middle Earth will have to fight it yet again.

To get out of bed, to answer the phone, to open the door, to fetch the mail—such everyday activities have eternal consequence and plunge us plunge us into the river of time…into the struggle. From the greatest to the smallest acts of courage and cowardice, we travel irresistibly on the path toward ultimate joy or final ruin.

I think for Tolkien the chief question—and thus the real quest—is how you and I are to travel along this troublesome Road. The great temptation is to take short-cuts, to follow the easy way, to arrive quickly. In ME magic offers the surest escape from slowness and suffering.

The destruction of the Ring is nothing less than Frodo's vocation. And in following his torturous path through to the end, he does far more than save his beloved Shire from ruin. Frodo learns—and thus teaches us—what for Tolkien is the deepest of all Christian truths: how to surrender one's life, how to lose one's treasure, how to die, and thus how truly to live.

As you engage in your part of this quest, Calathiel, I think your experience and feelings are every bit as valid as Tolkien’s. I like the way you think and I am sure there is a place for your poetic thoughts in this world.


Thank you for these beautifull words :) What you said about taking the easy road or the hard, reminds me of the question Galadriel asked each member of the Fellowship when they enterned Lothlorien and gave them the choice between leaving the quest to the others and live an easy life or staying true to each other and go on untill the end.... It's almost like Tolkien asks the reader: "What would you do". I think people should think about this not only when reading a book but also when living your life. And I know I'm not sacred, nobody is. But you could at least try making this world more like Lothlorien or Rivendel with love than creating a new version of Mordor with hatred.

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 Post subject: Like Lothlorien and Rivendel with love....
PostPosted: July 12th, 2006, 1:15 am 
Gondorian
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Wow! I like the connection you made there....it seems to me that the entire telling of LotR is for me a "what would you do?" I had forgotten Galadriel's words and questions there. That part really is very moving.

I have long struggled with the distiction we make between sacred and secular. I know in the west we tend to separate the mind and the body but truthfully, that is an impossibility. They are one whole. I believe that it is the same with the sacred and the secular. Like you said, our lives need to be lived consistently for making this world more beautiful. To draw lines in our lives and to say that this part is set apart for good and that part can be "evil" is counterproductive.

I guess the simple import of the the question "what would you do?" is "what kind of a man or woman do you want to be?". On that question hangs our destiny...we really can do our part in "creating a new version of Mordor with hatred" or "make this world more like Lothlorien or Rivendel with love ".

The sadness and melancholy in LotR (and in our world) is there because so many choose the darkness of Mordor.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: January 5th, 2007, 7:34 pm 
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I agree that every poem in Lord of the Rings [save, perhaps, Sam's Troll song and Tom Bombadil's introductory poem] is laced with a bit of sorrow. There isn't one poem that doesn't tug on my heart-strings in some way [even the two I mentioned that weren't sad -- is that strange?], or make me yearn for better times.


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: January 11th, 2007, 7:45 pm 
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D; they're are so sad. *sniff* and touching and beautiful and fabulous and all that.

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PostPosted: January 17th, 2007, 12:39 am 
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As I have read the books over again I have really been hit again by the power of the poetry and song of Tolkien's characters. There are other reasons that LotR stands out in the croud too but I feel that Tolkien's music and verse play a huge part too.

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PostPosted: January 27th, 2007, 12:32 am 
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This one makes me want to cry

To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling?
The voices of my people gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling.
In Eressea, in Elvenhome, that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people forever!


Poor Legolas...he must be in so much pain

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: February 17th, 2007, 6:32 pm 
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vikingmaiden wrote:
Those are really great ones!


Lament for Boromir


Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows,
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes.
'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?'
'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey.
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor.'
'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men are.'

From the mouths of the sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it hears, and at the gate it moans.
'What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?
Where now is Boromir the fair? He tarries and I grieve!'
'Ask me not of where he doth dwell--so many bones there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!'
'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs south,
But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth.'

From the Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
'What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.'
'Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.
His cloven sheild, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.'
'O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.'


I agree Viking maiden, that poem is supremely sad I spose because its someone mourning a friedn and ally ina song , Basically a funeral Soing. I spose Tolkien realised that we humans Judge happiness by sadness and vice versa. A well knwon quote by a woman of Sparta to her son as he heads for war reads " Come home bearing this shield or upon it. " This shows that though she finds the idea of him dying and returning onhis shield bad, that she would rather he kept his shield and retrned on it rather then abandon it and his honour. Also some of the Elven soings are sad as it reflects the modds, the delcine of th eeldar in th eface of Men.
But this is what I think anyway.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: March 2nd, 2007, 11:32 pm 
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I thought the lay of Luthien was sad.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: March 3rd, 2007, 6:19 am 
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She might be referring to the song Aragorn sings of Beren and Lúthien:

The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinúviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening

He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beachen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.

He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinúviel
That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinúviel the elven-fair,
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.

Long was the way that fate them bore,
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,
Through halls of ireon and darkling door,
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And long ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: March 3rd, 2007, 10:32 am 
Vala
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I think the saddest one is the Lament for Boromir. That one always makes me moody. :)

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: March 11th, 2007, 11:12 pm 
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Nauriel Rochnur wrote:
One of the saddest poems. Every time I read it I get shivers

Lament for the Rohirrim
Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?

They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the sea returning?

Aye, same here Nauriel.... that one had a really big impact on me.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: March 12th, 2007, 2:34 am 
Vala
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That one had an impact on me, like all of Tolkien's poems, but it didn't seem as impacting as the others. I never thought that it applied only to the Shadow--I've always thought that it also could be applied to time, which is a depressing thought, but not an uncommon one.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: March 13th, 2007, 8:58 pm 
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The last poem in the Adventures of Tom Bombadil.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: March 14th, 2007, 2:22 am 
Vala
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Would you post that here, please? I don't remember where my copy of it is, and I don't remember the last poem, either.

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 Post subject: Sing?
PostPosted: May 30th, 2007, 11:13 am 
Gondorian
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I was just reading in RotK and had to stop because I couldn't read anymore through my tears. It was Sam who spoke to true hope beyond the despair in Middle Earth more than any other. And to think that in the darkness at what he perceived to be the very end, he would sing! Sing?

What sort of a man was Tolkien? I would very much like to have met him!

Journey's End

In western lands beneath the Sun
The flowers may rise in Spring,
The trees may bud, the waters run,
The merry finches sing.
Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night,
And swaying branches bear
The Elven-stars as jewels white
Amid their branching hair.

Though here at journey's end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep,
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
Nor bid the Stars farewell.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: May 30th, 2007, 3:23 pm 
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I was looking at the poem you put up on page 2 Aerlinn. It reminds me of another of Sam's experiences:

"Frodo, Mr. Frodo!" he called. "Don't leave me here alone! It's your Sam calling. Don't go where I can't follow! Wake up, mr. Frodo! O wake up, Frodo, me dear, me dear. Wake up!"

Many of us have had loved ones go where we can't follow them, physically and emotionally. And you are so right. What a horribly sad and frustrating experience that is. To have loved ones or things in our lives that are so beautiful to us fade away....perhaps to be lost to us forever....it is hard to bear.

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