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Lord of the Rings:
The Two Towers
Hosted by Michael Dirda
Washington Post Book World Senior Editor
Friday,
Nov. 30, 2001; 2 p.m. EST
On Dec. 19 the first of three highly anticipated screen adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's book "The Fellowship of the Rings" will be released nationwide. In anticipation of the films and the rekindled interest in Tolkien's work, Washington Post Book World Senior Editor and Pulitzer Prize winning literary critic Michael Dirda is hosting a series of online discussions focusing on "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy.
This week, Dirda took questions on "The Two Towers," the third of Tolkien's books set in Middle-Earth.
The transcript follows.
Editor's Note: Washingtonpost.com moderators retain editorial control
over Live Online discussions and choose the most relevant questions for guests and hosts; guests and hosts can decline to answer questions.
San Francisco, Calif.:
Do you think the Balrog has wings?
Michael Dirda: Hi, welcome to our ongoing discussion of The Lord of the Rings. I'd like to make this as interactive as possible, so I may toss questions back to the collective wisdom of the whole group. On with the show!
Balrog with wings? I never thought so, but it sounds as though you have evidence that he might have wings. Can you tell us more?
Vienna, Va.:
Michael: It's been a while since I've read "The Fellowship of the Ring," but I remember the story line and principal characters fairly well. Would you advise jumping back into the trilogy with "Two Towers," or does it demand greater familiarity with the first book?
Michael Dirda: You might read the first chapter of Fellowship, then skim quickly through Tom Bombadil, etc.,until the fellowship meets Strider (Aragorn), after which the pace keeps up pretty quickly, before slowing a bit when the Fellowship is dispersed.
Boston, Mass.:
I always thought the shortcoming of the triology was Tolkien's incessant description of the natural landscape. At first beautiful, his page-after-page descriptions of crags, hollows, mesas, caverns, etc. begin to read lioke a geography textbook. They're skipable. Do you agree?
Michael Dirda: Skippable? Yes and no. I think that the constant references to landscape reinforce the crucial importance of geography in a world like MIddle Earth, where people travel on foot much of the time. Also, the ancient brooding character of forests and mountains lends itself to suggesting the gargantuan forces of nature, which are more lasting even than the exploits of men, elves, and dark lords. Historically, too, much northern poetry emphasizes weather and geogrphy--again because they made a serious impact on one's life back then.
Mt. Rainier, Md.:
If the Balrog had wings, why would he have fallen into the abyss with Gandalf rather than flying away? No wings, say I.
Michael Dirda: That's what I would think, too. Hence my wondering about the question.
Fairfax, Va.:
In The Two Towers, Tolkien talks quite often about the air being stuffy:
- Pip and Merry in Fangorn
- Theoden in his hall, before Gandalf breaks his enchantment
- Frodo & Sam in Ithilien (seems out of place there)
- Frodo & Sam trying to take the pass near Minas Morgul
Did Tolkien just get stuck on a way of expressing forboding, or is there something more here?
Michael Dirda: Hmm. I don't know. ANyone have thoughts?
Kansas City, Mo.:
Which is the better way to talk about Tolkien's books: by standing outside them and acknowledging them as adolescent dreams -- "hypertrophic... almost pathetic," "a combination of Winnie-the-Pooh and Wagner," as some of T's critcs said -- or by completely accepting them on their own terms, like the folks who dress up as characters in Star Trek?
Michael Dirda: I have a quote from Schopenhauer in my e-mail program that reads: "We should comport ourselves with the masterpieces of art as with exalted personnages--stand quietly before them, and wait till they speak to us." I do think we need to read in two ways: First, to surrender to the story as completely as possible, to allow its waking dream to become our dream too. But later, or on subsequent readings, we should step back, occasionally at least, to reflect on the book's character, structure, artistry, import. Some people can do this in a single reading--going back and forth, almost like what critic Leo Spitzer dubbed the hermeneutic circle: That is, when we read closely the details encourage us to build up a larger structure for the book in our mind; at the same time, that larger structure allows us to see the significance of small details. Does this help? Or am I just blathering?
Bethesda, Md.:
Someone... Auden? Mocked Tolkien in a review called "Ooo Those Awful Orcs," in which he pointed out that though the author dealt handily with the heroes in his books, he didn't give nearly as complete a picture of the villains of the piece. Which is completely fine with me, as the inner workings of demons and monsters are not my cup of tea. However, this is not an argument that works with serious minded people, who believe in confronting and examining evil -- how would you answer the charge? Or perhaps you agree?
Michael Dirda: Auden loved the Tolkien books. It was Edmund Wilson who couldn't see the point in that essay you mention. It seems to me that this is a spurious argument, asking Tolkien to write the book you want rather than the one he wanted. Obviously, Tolkien knew that to present Sauron directly would be to limit or diminish the sheer majesty of his evil. Instead he suggests its range and maleficence by showing us his agents, the Black Riders, the Orcs, et al. I don't think any reader has a sense that the forces of evil in the book are insubstantial. Quite the opposite, Evil seems to hold most of the cards.
Washington, D.C.:
Hello and I really enjoy an open-air forum on The Lord of the Rings.
As a Tolkien fan, I admire his work, however, I have often heard that large parts were lifted from standard 'western' folklore. Is this true or were these stories just inspiration (i.e. Das Ring Trilogy, Beowulf, and Elves of Northern European lore, etc.)
Michael Dirda: WEll, Tolkien was widely read and deeply learned in ancient northern literature, languages and folklore. He certainly drew on this knowledge. The death of Boromir, for example, recalls the death of Roland in Le Chanson de Roland. But you must also remember that in earlier literatures, it wasn't thought to be "plagiarism" or a lack of imagination that led people to borrow. Rather it was a way of proviing the truth of one's story--by citing earlier authorities--or to show thta one could add one's own imprint to a traditional story by telling it in a fresh way. Think of all of Greek drama, where eveyrone knew in advance the story of Oedipus. Doesn't make the experience any less powerful. Rather more so.
Wichita, Kan.:
I have heard it said that this trilogy is not really a trilogy, but one long book published in three volumes. What is the difference, and how would "The Two Towers" be different if it were the second book of a trilogy?
Michael Dirda: It is one long book. Most trilogies offer self-contained stories in each volume; that's not the case here.
Yo Mike D!:
What happened yesterday?
Michael Dirda: In the middle of my regular discussion--Thursdays at 2--my screen froze. It turned out that all the computers in the newsroom were down off and on all afternoon. Hence the program was interrupted due to technical difficulties.
Rockville, Md.:
Re: the critic's quote from a previous posting, well, what's wrong with Winnie the Pooh and Wagner, separately or together? I've found moments and areas of both child-like simplicity and epic struggle/love in my life. A Winnie/Wagner combo that works? Hey, it speaks to my heart.
Michael Dirda: Yes, I agree. Though Winnie and Wagner together does call to mind the great Bugs Bunny cartoon in which he plays Brunhilde romancing Elmer Fudd to Wagner's glorious music.
Washington, D.C.:
In previous posts you characterize the appendices as non-literary stuff, but I strongly disagree. Whether he knew it or not, Tolkien in his obsessive cataloging of his subcreation was prefiguring postmodern authors to whom form is as important as substance. One of the important differences between "Lord of the Rings" and "The Hobbit" is the former's use of these devices; the ongoing conceit is that the modern reader is actually reading Bilbo's Red Book (well, Bilbo's, with additions by Frodo, Sam, and Sam's offspring). Reading the appendices (at the end of "Return of the King") makes this clear. Armed with this new knowledge, the reader then becomes aware of an immense world sometimes only hinted at in the narrative. Sometimes the thoughts are cul-de-sacs and diversions, other times they fully flesh out motivations (e.g., why Gandalf was so interested in Smaug). Whether Tolkien was committing an act of premeditated artistry or simply feeding his OCD (has anyone written a psychoanalytic biography of Tolkien? it would make fascinating reading), the result is a brilliant parallel method of telling the story.
Michael Dirda: I'm persuaded. Great posting.
Bethesda, Md.:
To despise the books as completely trivial and childish, or to accept them as evidence of godhead -- surely this is something of a false dilemma?
They have stunning moments in them, they are well written. It is a good tale. Neither the best nor the worst in the world, but certainly a classic.
Michael Dirda: Ah, the middle of the road, the golden mean, moderation in all things--hard to argue against these. Though they're not always much fun, critically.
I'd rather be in Middle Earth:
Why are critics so hard on Lord of the Rings? It is a literary masterpiece in that, Tolkien was able to take elements from various mythologies and weave it into a fantastic tale. It's obviously a book with staying power, and has depth as well as entertainment value. There are even college courses built around Tolkien (although I was not lucky enough to have such a course at mine)... so why have critics sneer and belittled these fabulous books?
Michael Dirda: Many academic critics simply have trouble with fantasy and popular literature--less so now, of course, than twenty or more years ago. Fiction critics, in particular, tend to privilege realism, though a moment's refleciton makes clear that most of the world's great books are, in a loose sense, fantastic, allegorical, more magical than naturalistic.
Gaithersburg, Md.:
Hello Michael and everyone,
About getting stuck on the weather -- Yes, I think he did repeat himself a lot. I seem to remember not a few "westering skies" whatever that means!
About the nature of the book -- I've always thought it was a sort of recreation of one of the world wars but I'm not sure when it was written. As I've gotten older I've become more attuned to the almost overwhelming nostalgia and sorrow expressed about the passing of a way of life. Reminds me of "Upstairs Downstairs" and "Brideshead Revisited."
Michael Dirda: World War II; Hitler as Sauron, etc.--this is one view of the trilogy. Yes, that sense of evanescence gives the book its autumnal flavor, and does as you remark, make it part of a post-war BRitish flowering of such look-backs at a vanishing old ENgland.
Washington, D.C.:
Hello,
In "The Two Towers," the character Faramir seems so heroic, and knowledgeable -- more so than any other person in the book. Sam himself say's that Faramir has an air of being a wizard. Was Tolkien maybe projecting himself onto this character (idealized, of course.)
Michael Dirda: Hmm. Any thoughts on this out there?
Rockville, Md.:
For those who want to get more in-depth information, I would thought I would mention that in addition to the History of Middle-earth series, the Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien was recently republished. It's an interesting look into Tolkien's thoughts about life, writing LotR and publisher battles.
Michael Dirda: Thank you. Also Humphrey Carpenter--the editor of the letters--is the author of two good biogrphical books about JRR: Tolkien: A Biography and The Inklings, about the circle to which he belonged with C.S. Lewis, Charles Williams, et al.
Fort Lauderdale, Fla.:
Dear Michael,
In an earlier discussion I noted your view that "The Two Towers" title was the weakest of the three. This view struck a strong chord in me as I recalled a feeling I had when I first read the series (I've since lost count of how many times I picked up one of the three for some random reading). I remember feeling confusion as to which two towers were being refered to. Barad-Dur vs. Orthanc,
Minas Ithil vs. Minas Tirith, Parth Galon vs. Dol guldur. I know there is the suggestion that perhaps Tolken never had a hand in the naming of the three books, but for me this is irrelevent as the series has grown since
its writing. What strikes me as most plausible for an answer is that the Towers represent the struggles of Innocence vs. Corruption. My question to you is, In what way do you feel cheated by the naming of book two.
Michael Dirda: Good points. But I don't feel cheated by the title, just that it's somewhat bland. In that regard, the final book, The Return of the King, has the most resonant phrasing, with its echoes of Arthur, the once and future king, promised to reappear on some dire daywhen England was most in need of him.
Boone, Iowa:
In the "Fellowship of the Ring" discussion on Nov. 12, there were a couple of kids asking what was Tolkien trying to symbolize with the ring that could be both good by helping Frodo turn invisible and bad by turning him crazy?
I thought your response was good, but something else also occurs to me: throughout the trilogy I see the hidden hand of God (Iluvatar) working good even through evil things. Most notable is Gollum, who Gandalf dimly foresaw would aid Frodo and Sam, and sent the Ring to its destruction when Frodo could not.
Michael Dirda: Ok. Chekhov once wrote that one has to be a good in order to distinguish successes from failures in life. And there is hte old belief that good can come from evil.
Baltimore, Md.:
I've read the trilogy numerous times, and to me the soul of the story comes in Book IV (the second part of "The Two Towers"), chronicling the journey of Frodo, Sam and, later, Gollum, from the hills of Emyn Muil to the tower of Cirith Ungol on the mountain border of Mordor. The final chapter, "The Choices of Master Samwise," brings home the true cost of the quest to the characters, especially the simple gardner Sam Gamgee. His pain, horror and unfathomable loss at the mountain pass makes me weep every time. Whatever faults the book has, it's Tolkien's heart that wins it, for me.
Michael Dirda: THank you.
Rockville, Md.:
I think one of the topics about Tolkien that we haven't discussed is that he served in the British Army in WWI and experienced the horrors of trench warfare.
When I read the trilogy in this light, I understand his negative attitude toward machines that one begins seeing in "The Two Towers" (description of Saruman's lair) and further in "Return of the King" (description of Mordor, the Shire upon the Frodo/Sam's return).
As someone who sometimes wants a return to an apparently simpler time, I enjoy his descriptions of the Shire in the Hobbit.
Michael Dirda: thank you
Watertown, Mass.:
What do you think of Tolkien as a prose stylist? I'm always flabbergasted that some people who like the books nevertheless think they're ill-written; I think this is a bias (like the bias against fantasy but separable) against his sometimes high style (which he defends definitively in letter 171). I was one of Elizabeth Bishop's poetry students at Harvard, and often find myself unable to get into well-regarded hard science fiction novels because the writing is too awkward. So it doesn't make much sense that I could recently read Lord of the Rings a seventeenth time and enjoy every word! (And I think you could find people with even better credentials who would agree with me; Greer Ilene Gilman is a total Tolkien fanatic, and it seems inconceivable to me that the author of "Moonwise" loves Lord of the Rings -- in spite of the prose). While none of Tolkien's many voices stands out the way Nabokov's or John Crowley's does, they are all well crafted, and his ability to switch effortlessly and unobtrusively among them is, I think, scarcely rivaled in literature.
(And when are you coming back to Readercon? Tom Disch and Jonathan Lethem made it back last year and vow to never miss it again. -- Eric M. Van, Program Chair)
Michael Dirda: Excellent posting. I agree about Tolkiens' style--it can be as strong and plain as oak, or as lyrical as a song in Rivendell. I'll try to make it back to Readercon next year. Be sure to send me an invite.
Washington, D.C.:
In answer to the question of stuffiness, I appeal to context in the stories the description of the location/people/environment painted a more complete picture. For instance, in Moria, the air was warm but stuffy; in the hall, once sensed a feel of sickness when he used the 'stuffiness' phase; in the forest, an ancient, almost heavy 'stuffiness', and so on. The phrase was not overused but like all words/phase, in content, very descriptive.
Michael Dirda: thank you
London, England:
Hi
I'll whisper it in your esteemed organ, but you can read Auden's reviews of all three novels on the The New York Times Web site. He adored the works. The Balrog 'wings' question is being raised because it's in the trailer.
Michael Dirda: Thanks for the Auden lede. I should have guessed that the movie lay behind the wings question. My middle son hoped to tape the tv special last night, but somehow nothinhg recorded. Do wish I could have seen it.
Milwaukee, Wis.:
The Balrog with wings issue is an ongoing debate among Tolkien fanatics. It stems from Tolkien's use a simile to describe the Balrog's wings and then a few sentences later not using one.
I don't have the books in front of me right now, but the first passage went something like:
...And the darkness surrounded it like two vast wings....
And then a few sentences later in Tolkien refers to it's wings directly
...Its wings spread wide...
One camp believes both sentences refer to the darkness around the Balrog, that the wing reference is metaphorical, the other camp takes the meaning more literally.
Personally I like it with wings just because I think it would look cooler... otherwise I think the whole debate rather silly.
Michael Dirda: Ah, more complex than I realized--wings and more wings. (which used to be the name of a chicken place here in DC).
Washington, D.C.:
Bugs as Brunhilda is brilliant, like Winnie and Wagner. Aliterate always.
Frodo Festers!
er, Lives!
Michael Dirda: thanks
Re: Faramir:
He's heroic and wise, and yet for the last battle gets stuck on the sidelines (albeit comforted by meeting Eowyn). I never thought of him as being Tolkien, but Faramir was one of the most capable, decent people in the book -- the person we would all like to be, or to be led by, if we were short a "true king." Maybe he's Tolkien as JRR might have wished to be, although most of the good characters might have a claim on that.
On another note, I haven't read the appendixes. What is the significance of the Standing Silence observed by Faramir and his men?
Michael Dirda: thanks. I don't know the answer to your question. ANyone?
Herndon, Va.:
Mr. Dirda: Re Bugs Bunny and Wagner -- there is no doubt that "What's Opera, Doc" is one of THE sublime moments of 20th Century culture, as is evidenced by my (and several million others) inability to think of anything but (when hearing the strain of a certain Wagner work) "kill the wabbit, Kill The Wabbit, KILL THE WABBIT."
Michael Dirda: Oh yes. It's my favorite Bugs cartoon, too--just as The Scarlet Pumpernickel is my favorite Daffy. "And then the dam broke..."
Arlington, Va.:
Granted that Tolkien makes his allegories implicit rather than explicit a la C.S. Lewis, how much of Tolkien's rather orthodox Catholic sensibilities do you think come across in Lord of the Rings? Galadriel as the Virgin Mary? Various Christ figures in alternatively, Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf, even Sam? Elves as humans who never fell?
Michael Dirda: I don't sense much actual Catholic dogma in the series. Perhaps the notion of a prelapsarian world or the survival of ancient gods in the midst of Christianity is about it. Middle Earth wouldn't work as a Christian place.
Mt. Rainier, Md.:
Being an intense snob at the time, I refused to read JRR Tolkien in high school when everyone else did, assuming that something that popular could not be very good (okay, I grew up, all right?). Since college I have read his 'trilogy' umpteen times. I am not a big fantasy reader because I think usually their characters are too wooden. Tolkien's characters are able to express awe, wonder, fear, grief in ways I find quite believable. And they develop loyalties and friendships across natural boundaries in a way that I want to believe anyway.
Michael Dirda: Yes, but there are lots of other good fantasy writers worth checking out: Mervyn Peake, Avram Davidson, Jack Vance, Ursula Le Guin, etc. etc.
Los Angeles, Calif.:
Is "The Lord of the Rings" literature or just a really popular book?
Can popular fiction ever be serious literature?
Michael Dirda: Well, to use the stock example, Dickens was very popular and no one's doubted that he's literature. I think the sign thta the LOTR is literature can be found in its rereadability. Insofar as one feels that a book doesn't offer you everything on a first reading, one is likely to be in the presence of literature.
Boston, Mass.:
Do you think Tolkien wants invisibility itself to have moral significance?
Think of Plato's reference to the Ring of Gyges in the Republic, or the Niebulungen ring made famous by Wagner -- in each case, rings that turn you invisible, also make you evil.
Gollum is hard to spot, as are the ringwraiths, who smell their prey rather than see it.
But, of course, elves are also hard to spot, and hobbits are said to be able to pass by unnoticed if that is their intention.
I think it is a mistake to say that Tolkein makes all "magical" creatures invisible, so as to facilitate the notion that this world is our world (hence, we just don't SEE the elves and hobbits and Gollums, although they are there).
It seems as if moral extremes are represented by those who are invisible -- extreme evil or extreme good tends to make its agent invisible (an odd notion, to say the least!)
Do you have any thoughts on this matter?
Michael Dirda: You make a strong case. But I don't think of any of these creatures as essentially invisible. And isn't one point of the book that this is a world that has vanished away? In essence, that Middle Earth entire has disappeared, and all its beauty, history and meaning?
Washington, D.C.:
Do Tolkien's books sell well outside of 'Western, Anglo-Saxon' culture? For that mater, can the translation really work in another language?
Michael Dirda: Don't know, but I presume so.
San Antonio, Tex.:
Hello, I have enjoyed the postings so far and felt I ought to give something back if possible. I have been intrigued by the structure of "The Two Towers." Tolkien does not cut back and forth between the action of the characters but instead follows one plot thread and backtracks to tell what had been happening simultaneously with the other characters. Why do you feel Tolkien made this most unusual storytelling choice?
Michael Dirda: ANy thoughts on this?
London, England:
Michael...
From what I've read Tolkien was always vehement in his denials that there were any allegorical 'messages' in Lord of the Rings. Who knows -- but sometimes don't you have to take an author at his word? Much less fun for critics though!
Michael Dirda: I don't see them as allegories. But some people do. It seems reductionist to equate Sauron with Hitler, but as I said some critics have read the whole tirlogy in light of World War II.
Bethesda, Md.:
It seemed a very moving moment to me, when Gandalf explained to Sam why Aragorn had not killed Gollum when he had a chance to do so -- 'it was pity stayed his hand.' And Frodo's similar compassion is what makes possible the stunning denoument: when at the crack of doom, he stops and says, I do not choose to do this thing, putting the ring on his finger: which Gollum bites off, falling into the abyss in the process. Thus saving the world-- which would have been lost had compassion for the creature not saved his life previously.
Michael Dirda: Yes.
D.C.:
re: Faramir
As I say, a lot is revealed in the appendices, and I won't spoil the fun re: Faramir by revealing what transpires with him in "Return." But he epitomizes a Victorian ideal of self-sacrifice, of freely refusing a boon (e.g., the Ring) that by his station and his merits he could justly claim. In one sense, Tolkien is seeming to champion an anti-democratic view: Faramir is locked into his station by his birth and his duty. But on the other hand, Faramir is more than the loyal sergeant major of empire-grabbing narratives. He is a philosopher. He is a lover. He is a pacifist, but there is no more steadfast soldier on the battlefield. I always felt he displayed the most accessible ethics of any of the characters. He loves, and is loved, not through the gift of the One like the elves or Gandalf, but through his own willful adherence to a code.
Michael Dirda: Wonderful posting. He is, in a way, like Ajax in The Iliad--a great soldier and fighter, though Odysseus, Achilles and othres get the poetical glory.
See the movie, skip the book:
Now that I have your attention ...
Sir Ian McKellan, in a widely distributed e-mail about his reaction to a first screening of the completed "Fellowship of the Ring" film, suggested that anyone who hasn't yet read the book not try to blow through it at this point before seeing the movie. He said anyone unfamiliar with the book would be completely absorbed by the film and wouldn't have any trouble following the story.
There would be plenty of time to catch up on the other two volumes of the trilogy prior to their theatrical release, he said.
What do you think? Would you ever not recommend reading the book, if one is planning to see the film the week it opens?
Michael Dirda: I always feel that the original work of art is going to be better than its simulacrum. Usually, the best movies are made from second-rate novels. But I don't think you should skip the movie just because you haven't read the book. Odds are the movie will, as they say, send you out to the stores to buy the novel.
Boston, Mass.:
Tolkein borrows a literary trope concerning colors and lights in Lord of the Rings -- specifically, elves and noble characters are frequently described as light and bright, while the orcs and villainous characters tend do be dark or black (leading to some rather unfortunately archaic statements like "I promise you, no black man will cross my door while I'm here!" and so forth).
Interestingly, however, the elves are frequently associated with the color grey, and Gandalf himself begins as grey, and is known as the grey pilgrim.
When he transforms, in "Two Towers," he becomes white -- the color Saruman was at the start, before he was corrupted.
What are we to make of this curious abandonment of the traditional approach? Why does Tolkien use grey for the elves and for the initial version of Gandalf? Is it significant that Gandalf ultimately becomes white, or that Saruman begins as white and ends "multi-colored"? (the replacement of white with multi-colored in the case of Saruman is clearly meant to indicate something, based on the time Tolkien spends on the transition and the dramatic importance of the switch during the scene itself, for Gandalf realizes that Saruman has been corrupted the very moment he sees that Saruman's robes are no longer white)
Michael Dirda: I can think of the obvious associations of color and color changes, but I suspect there must be some scholarly study of this very subject.
Washington, D.C.:
What do critics think about these books? As a fantasy read, these are the best, but how does it compare to other great novels of different genres?
Michael Dirda: Critics think different things. I don't think the trilogy offers the kind of psychological penetration of a Proust or James; neither the linguistic gusto of Dickens. But it does create a secondary world--and this is one of the great aims and achievements of prose narrative.
And with that, we reach the end of today's program. Till next time, keep reading!
Wait!:
Chekov said you had to be a good what to distinguish good from evil? A word was missing in your response and it seems IMPORTANT!
Michael Dirda: a God--sorry typo.
Michael Dirda: Welcome to the third installment of our three-part online discussion of The Lord of the Rings. This week our focus is on The Return of the King, but can naturally embrace the earlier volumes as well--this is, as we've already established, a single long novel rahter than a trilogy. As I like these discussions to be conversations, I will throw some questions back to the auditors and hope for more informed opinion than I am always able to offer. So with that, let's get on to MIddle Earth and Mordor where the shadows lie.
Washington, D.C.:
I am 30 pages from finishing "The Lord of the Rings" (but it's my second time reading it). I have a question on the layout of the book. Why did he keep the two stories separate in the two books of the "The Twin Towers?" He intertwined the stories on "The Return of the King." There is a steady timeline, but completes one story before starting the next. Thanks!
Michael Dirda: Perhaps for variety, or to generate suspense, or because he didn't feel confident in his ability to interlace them. Do other people have views on this question?
Southampton, England:
I agree with your statement about "The Two Towers" being a weak title, but, also, I always wondered, shouldn't it really be called "The Three Towers?" Since it not only involves Orthanc, and Minas Morgul, but also Minas Tirith. Well, I was just wondering whether you could shed some light on the subject.
Also, do you think there was a reason that Tolkien separated the adventures of Frodo and Sam, and the adventures of the rest of the fellowship, instead of having them in alternative chapters?
Michael Dirda: See previous posting. I suppose Two Towers encourages a more Manichean--black/white, good/evil sense--of things.
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