Then Ax goes on to sayI guess it's appropriate that the ring makes most wearers hidden. It's an escape from the difficulties everyone else presents, the fates they bring. Claiming the ring means listening to no one else, considering no one else. No other voices but the voice of the ring. No fate, no difficult choices. The user of the ring hides inside of it.
How those two viewpoints summarise the egoism and self deceit of Sauron!And yet it's only an illusory escape.
Nice. In support of that, from Letter #246, on Frodo:Faramond wrote:Frodo and Sam probably should have died... I guess they knew it. They stayed alive as long as they could, and then their fate came for them...
Life is harder than death. But especially for Frodo. He was all set up for a noble sacrifice, and he didn't get it.
He appears at first to have had no sense of guilt (III 224-5): he was restored to sanity and peace. But then he thought that he had given his life in sacrifice: he expected to die very soon. But he did not, and one can observe the disquiet growing in him.
To the dismay of those that stood by, about the body of Saruman a grey mist gathered, and rising slowly to a great height like smoke from a fire, as a pale shrouded figure it loomed over the Hill. For a moment it wavered, looking to the West; but out of the West came a cold wind, and it bent away, and with a sigh dissolved into nothing.
This gets more and more complicated the more I think about it. What does it mean that a Maia incarnated into a physical body dies? Certainly, Tolkien's conception of the wizards developed over time. The Gandalf (Bladorthin) of The Hobbit certainly was not the Maia Olórin that he became in LOTR (and even more in subsequent writings such as the essay on the Istari published in UT). I mentioned recently the discussion in "Words, Phrases and Passages in the Lord of the Rings" about the word "Fana" meaning the the "visible bodily forms adopted by the Valar and their kind." It is said that "The Valar and Maiar cloaked their true-being in fanar (veils) after the manner of bodies of Elvish-kind."Faramond wrote:Usually I just read that and think --- he's dead. This is how a fallen wizard dies. I don't think about the implication that in addition to Saruman dying there is something that is rejecting him.
That's a big part of what I meant when I said that this gets more and more complicated the more I think about it. It's hard to say exactly what Tolkien was thinking when he was writing LOTR, and how much he filled in later.Faramond wrote:I wonder if Tolkien was thinking of the implications of Saruman being a Maia when he wrote his death. I rather think he was just writing what seemed to work for Saruman's character --- the greatness of his fall, the utter ruin of what was once so good. Others would know more about this than me, though.
Redemption. Which was not forthcoming because of the lack of humility that you referenced.I don't think Saruman is looking for any forgiveness when he looks to the west before his dissolution. What was he looking for?
I tend to think that Tolkien established a pretty solid foundation for the background of his Istari characters as the writing of LOTR progressed, and so I believe that the implications of Saruman's fate would have been considered carefully. I think it's probably why it feels like such a chilling, almost shocking moment, even for readers that know little of Tolkien's world beyond LOTR. It feels as if there is something more, something mysteriously and yet undeniably profound about this fragile mist of a "spirit" looking to the West before it is scattered into nothingness by a cold, answering wind. Long before I read the Sil, it was one of those deliciously intangible moments where I knew, somehow, that I was witnessing an event which had its meaning deeply rooted in an ancient past "across the seas of water and time" that Gandalf spoke of to Pippin on their ride to Minas Tirith.Faramond wrote:I wonder if Tolkien was thinking of the implications of Saruman being a Maia when he wrote his death. I rather think he was just writing what seemed to work for Saruman's character --- the greatness of his fall, the utter ruin of what was once so good. Others would know more about this than me, though.
I rather think that he was looking to the West with an expectation of acceptance. I don't think he had a clue, really, that his corruption and fall could have such a consequence. I actually don't think poor old Saruman would be capable of really desiring forgiveness or redemption. The wind from the West is not what he expects, and that sigh, to me, signals the sudden, awful realization of what he has lost.I don't think Saruman is looking for any forgiveness when he looks to the west before his dissolution. What was he looking for?
I most definitely agree.solicitr wrote:Just to get all geek-technical on ya, I would think that Saruman and the other Istari were (in a sanctioned exception to the Rules) actually incarnate in hröar like the Eruhini, not the fanar which ordinarily Ainur could don and doff at will
I don't think that the rejection of Saruman necessarily means the end/death of his "true-being". It's more like an eternal prison sentence for the last strands of his essence, which will remain trapped - invisible, powerless, meaningless - within the physical world.Voronwë wrote:The suggestion in the passage that I quoted above is that even after Saruman's "Fana" is killed his true-being is rejected by the Valar, or perhaps by Eru Himself. I really am not sure what to make of that.
