Tag Archives: J.R.R. Tolkien

To Despair…Or to Hope?

Amazon.com: The Two Towers: Being the Second Part of The Lord of the Rings eBook: J.R.R. Tolkien ...

“Now Théoden son of Thengel, will you hearken to me?” said Gandalf.  “Do you ask for help?”  He lifted his staff and pointed to a high window.  There the darkness seemed to clear, and through the opening could be seen, high and far, a patch of shining sky.  “Not all is dark.  Take courage, Lord of the Mark; for better help you will not find.  No counsel have I to give to those who despair.  Yet counsel I could give, and words I could speak to you.  Will you not hear them?  They are not for all ears.  I bid you come out before your doors and look abroad.  Too long have you sat in shadows and trusted to twisted tales and crooked promptings.” – The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Chapter Six: The King of the Golden Hall by J. R. R. Tolkien

Book Review: Roverandom by J. R. R. Tolkien

The Hobbit. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. The Silmarillion….

These are the titles most of us think of when we hear the name J. R. R. Tolkien. And rightly so. Tolkien wrote these stories and more set within Middle-earth. He also wrote Mr. Bliss and Farmer Giles of Ham. And he wrote a great many essays, as well as at least two translations of the epic of Beowulf. (They were very good translations.)

But Mr. Tolkien also wrote another story which was not published until 1998. This is the story of Roverandom.

Roverandom started life as a tale for Michael Tolkien, the second son of the Tolkien family. Michael had a little lead toy dog he never went without. When the Tolkiens were on vacation near the beach, Michael brought the toy with him. But when he and his brother went out to play in the sand, he lost the little toy. J.R.R. Tolkien, John Tolkien, and Michael Tolkien went looking for it, of course, but they could not find it.

Anyone who has had a favorite toy and misplaced it permanently knows how damaging a loss this is. Michael was apparently inconsolable. To take his mind off of the loss, J. R. R. Tolkien told the story of how Michael’s toy was actually a real dog enchanted to be a toy. The little dog, he explained, had been enchanted by a wizard he had upset and was now off on an adventure to return to normal size.

Roverandom went through several revisions over the following years. After the success of The Hobbit, Tolkien gave his publishers the manuscript for Roverandom. But they did not want this story. Because The Hobbit had been such a big hit, they wanted a sequel. The rest, as they say, is history; The Lord of the Rings was the sequel that the publishers knew they wanted, and Roverandom was left in the family archives.

That is where it remained until 1998, when the Tolkien Trust published the manuscript for the first time. Michael Tolkien apparently lost interest in the story after the first few retellings. His older brother John, however, did not lose interest. He was the driving force behind the story being written down and revised at least three times.

The story of Roverandom begins when Rover, playing with his mistress’ yellow ball, sees an old man pick it up. Now the old man is Artaxerxes, and he is a wizard. Thinking he will make the ball a more interesting trinket for the dog, he picks it up without asking if he can have it.

Rover is not happy about this at all. He barks at the wizard, telling him (without the proper polite niceties), to put down the ball. The offended Artaxerxes replies that he will not, instead putting the ball in his pocket.

This is too much for Rover, who reacts very foolishly. He bites the wizard’s trousers and tears a piece off – possibly taking some of Artaxerxes with it!

Well, now the wizard is in high dudgeon. Whirling around, he tells Rover to “go and be a toy!” And, before you can say Jack Robinson, Rover is stuck in a begging position in a box of toys. He is also far smaller than he should be, unable to move much (especially while people are watching), and his barks are too quiet for anyone but the other toys to hear.

Then Rover is taken out of the box and bought by a lady for six pence. She takes him home and gives him to Little Boy Two (Michael Tolkien), and the boy loves him to pieces. Rover, however, is more interested in being returned to his proper size and going home. He ignores Little Boy Two until he falls out of the child’s pocket while the lad is running about on the beach with his older brother.

The rest of the story you will have to read for yourselves. I have spoiled too much as things stand now, and I have no desire to be turned into a toy for telling more! 😉 If you can buy Roverandom, readers, it will be a good investment. If your local library has it, well, then you really have no excuse to avoid borrowing it to experience the adventure yourselves!

Until next time –

The Mithril Guardian

(bowing)

At your service!

Captain America: Civil War – Steve Rogers/Captain America

Kitchen

Captain America: Civil War smashed its way onto theater screens May 6, 2016, readers. A resounding first punch for Marvel’s “Phase Three” films, Civil War is a great movie, one of their best.

But people – even those who worked on the movie – seem to have a hard time understanding the character arc of the lead protagonist in this film: Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America.

This is due to the inordinate attention paid to the comic book event which was the basis, at least in part, for the film. People cannot help confusing that story with the one found in the movie. In the comic book event, all superheroes (excluding the continually persecuted X-Men) were required to reveal their secret identities to the world and register with the government – the way that gun owners in Australia were forced to register their names and their firearms in the 1990s, prior to the Australian government confiscating the guns. (How is that working out for them these days, huh?)

At the beginning of the civil war in the comics, Cap refused to register. Iron Man was initially against registration as well. But after an incident where teen heroes starring in a reality TV show engaged a villain who subsequently obliterated half a town and killed sixty school children, Iron Man did a one-eighty degree turn and chose to support registration. (One would think the incident would say more for the stupidity of most reality TV shows than it did for superhero registration, but…. *Author shrugs.*)

Subsequent to these events, a number of superheroes – mostly Avengers and other, solo heroes – refused to register, rallying under Cap’s leadership. Meanwhile, the heroes who supported Registration chose Iron Man as their leader.

This led to a brutal superhero war wherein Captain America and Iron Man’s forces clashed several times. When caught, unregistered heroes were sent to prison with the criminals they had once incarcerated, while Tony Stark actually began recruiting villains to help him bring in Cap and his forces. (This was the start of Tony’s slide into becoming a loathsome villain, completing the Marvel writers’ intent to murder his valiant character.)

The final battle which ended the comic book civil war saw Steve and Tony beat each other bloody, nigh senseless, and almost to death. Concerned EMTs – civilians – finally leapt forward and pulled an irate Captain America off of Tony, since he was about to kill him…

And this is where the movie soars in comparison to the dismal comics. I cannot see Cap becoming so bent and twisted that he would be willing to kill Tony. Cap is too good, too pure of heart, too great a guy to fall into that trap. The ending in the movie, where he instead damages Tony’s suit so the billionaire genius cannot continue to fight, is much more like him than his actions in the comic book civil war.

It was this “fighting for the sake of fighting” that made me abhor the entire Civil War event in the comics. The Marvel writers, in their desire to “update” their heroes to please the academy’s Hegelian/Nietzschean complex, mauled the characters to the point where they were unworthy to be called heroes anymore. If Marvel had wanted to end the “mainstream” universe at any point, that was probably the time to have done it and gotten away with it.

The Captain America: Civil War film does greater credit to Marvel’s characters than the comic book conflict ever did. This is most true in regard to Steve Rogers. Though the directors and the president of Marvel Studios want us to think of Steve now as an “insurgent” who is no longer a “rah-rah company man,” the thing is that, after all these years, they still do not understand how to describe him. Cap was never a “company man.” But he was, is, and always will be “rah-rah America” for as long as he and the nation exist.

You cannot get anymore “rah-rah U.S.A.” than by calling yourself Captain America while dressing in a suit that bears the colors and symbols of the United States’ flag. So, Disbelievers, remember this: Steve Rogers is still “rah-rah America” – and long may he remain so!

Steve is not responsible for the civil war between the heroes in this movie. That inglorious liability can be laid right at Tony Stark’s iron shod feet – again. What happens in Civil War is that the politicians of the world have decided they can no longer tolerate having zero control over the Avengers. Thanks to the events of Avengers: Age of Ultron, they think they finally have the ammunition they need to slap leashes and handcuffs on the heroes.

Make no mistake, readers; most politicians want only one thing – power/control, and lots of it. The way to get the most power is to control one’s fellow men. There are two kinds of “absolute” power which humans can exert over each other when they are in the government: the immediate power of life and death, and the power of slavery. The immediate power of life and death I am speaking of here refers to the actions and attitudes of characters such as Thanos, the Red Skull, and Ultron. Their power is the fact that they can kill anyone and everyone who gets in their way as soon as they arrive in these monsters’ paths.

This type of “will to power” is obvious, and so people can recognize it fairly quickly and easily. This makes these villains’ attempts at world domination/destruction hard to fulfill. If it is a choice between rolling over to die and fighting ‘til one’s last breath, most people will fight until they defeat the enemy or die in their tracks. “Give me liberty, or give me death!” as Patrick Henry so rightly said.

The power of slavery, no matter the quality of the velvet glove concealing it, is also the power of life and death. But this power is implemented more subtly than the first; it “looks fair and feels foul.” (The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring) By using this power – Saruman’s power – the political slave masters get to decide who lives and who dies; as well as when, where, and how these people die. So long as you are useful to those who run the State, you may live, to most appearances happily and freely. But once you are no longer useful due to age or health, no matter how bright or talented, the laws and the agencies that have enacted those laws will inexorably push you to their chosen exit.

Just ask the babies aborted every year around the world, or the elderly who are starved to death when their doctors (like Mengele) deny them the basic nutrition they need, thus dying horribly. They know what slavery is. Or ask those who are said to be “brain dead,” in a coma, or a so called persistent vegetative state, “unable” to recover. In spite of the many verified accounts we have of those who have recovered from these conditions, there are still those who will “pull their plugs,” for no other reason than despots of one stripe or another do not want to be inconvenienced with their care!

J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games, Orwell’s 1984, the film Soldier, and thousands of other stories repeat this warning to their audiences. You will even find this admonition in The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood if you are paying enough attention, readers!

And you cannot miss it in Captain America: Civil War.

Both these “absolute” powers I just described are faces of totalitarianism. At the head of every tyranny, you will find a small, cowardly bully. And as Cap said in The First Avenger: “I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from.”

So, in Civil War, when Ross and the U.N. try to hold the proverbial gun to Steve’s head and that of the rest of his team, telling them to get on their knees, Cap responds as he has always responded: “Not today.”

Tony, blinded by his remorse over the events in Sokovia during Age of Ultron, does not see the steel fist hidden under the velvet glove. Instead, he sees a way to assuage his guilt. He thinks it is a preventative measure when it is a dog collar synced to an electric fence. I hate to break his soap bubble, but here’s a newsflash, Tony: you are not a dog. Neither are the rest of the Avengers, nor are any other humans on the planet. A dog is a dog. A human is a human. There is no likeness whatsoever between the two species and anyone who says otherwise is selling something – typically poison.

Cap tries to explain this to him, but Tony will not listen. Why? Pain, fear, and guilt. Tony does not like carrying these around in his “man purse” (glare at Sam Wilson, not me!) on a daily basis. Remember what he told Pepper in The Avengers when Coulson showed up in their elevator? “Security breach. That’s on you [Pepper].”

Tony is used to shifting the blame. He is not accustomed to having a conscience, to having a moral sense which pricks him and reminds him of what is right and what is wrong. Up until the first Iron Man film, Tony was a playboy. That is, he was a grown man acting like an irresponsible college kid. He was playing around, living in his own little bubble, and as long as he was happy, the world was a beautiful place filled with rainbows and sunshine.

Cap does not have that problem because he grew up and “put away childish things” a long time ago. Even before his parents died, he was taking care of himself on the streets of Brooklyn. Despite being a short, scrawny, asthmatic, ninety-seven pound weakling, he essentially adhered to this motto: Sic semper tyrannis. That is the State of Virginia’s maxim, and in English it reads: “Thus always (or ever) to tyrants.”

Bullies in the schoolyard, the workplace, or in the home are all minor tyrants. Once they get into the government, they become Major Tyrants. But when these mini dictators tried to oppress Steve in order to bend him to their will, he told them to go shove it up their nose – even if they threw him in a trashcan, or beat him senseless and left him in a doorway afterward. He took care of himself the whole time he was growing up. And once he was on his own, he continued to take care of himself.

Now when I say Cap “took care of himself,” I mean that he behaved like the adult he was. He took responsibility for his actions; he lived with what he did right and with his mistakes. He made his choices and accepted their consequences, whether they were good or bad.

Tony is not used to doing that, and somewhere after The Avengers, he became even more afraid of growing up. That made him ripe pickings for Ross and the tyrants in the U.N. (Discounting King T’Chaka, who believed in the Sokovian Accords wholeheartedly. Poor guy must never have heard that, “When seconds count; the police are only minutes away.” The Avengers always beat the police to the problem – even in Nigeria.)

This is where Cap and Tony are so remarkably different. Steve still has no tolerance for bullies, wherever they come from, whatever suit they wear. Tony, on the other hand, had never been bullied because his father, his company, or he had always been the wealthiest and smartest – either with his tech or with his caustic, running mouth – man in the room. He did not know what a bully looked like until that cave in Afghanistan because he has never met one to which he was not a superior.

He never saw Loki as a bully, just as someone who was intellectually too big for his britches. He did not see Ultron as a bully; he saw him as a mistake he created and did not fix in an efficient and timely manner. And he does not see Ross, initially, as the loudmouthed bully the current Secretary of State is.

This explanation of the separate understandings of the two men who make the heart and brain of the Avengers’ team clears up everything prior to their last battle in the HYDRA base. In the case of that battle, it is started after Tony is shown footage of the Winter Soldier – a brainwashed and controlled Bucky Barnes – killing his parents.

We know from previous films that, to his masters, the Winter Soldier – whose modus operandi was “no witnesses” – was a lone wolf “fire and forget” tool that would accomplish any mission given him by the most direct and expeditious means, with the evidence of his work to be found on the world’s various obituary pages. The crash alone should have killed the Starks and allowed Bucky to retrieve HYRDA’s prize. Why, then, would HYDRA have placed cameras at the precise site on the exact deserted road to film this particular event – thus negating all the logistics reliable assassins and snipers are usually left to figure out themselves?

To do this would have meant that HYDRA knew precisely which road the Starks would choose, exactly when the Winter Soldier would strike, all the while employing a team of photographers to film this one operation.

Even for a whacked-out organization like HYDRA, that is too much disbelief to suspend. While I suppose it is plausible that HYDRA filmed all of Bucky’s missions for their records, thus initially explaining the footage, is it not more reasonable to think that Zemo manufactured the film (ala CGI) to achieve his desired effect of Tony’s rage?

This would explain the many different angles and particularly the close-ups we have of the Starks’ deaths. Those would have been added for “dramatic effect” by Zemo. It would not have been possible to get a good look at these “details” from any film if it were real – unless HYDRA dispatched an entire team of people to film the event. (While we are on this subject just where, EXACTLY, did Howard Stark get FIVE packs of a working Super Soldier Serum?!?! I thought they got rid of all the samples of Steve’s blood, the only possible source of a functioning serum!!!)

Seeing their deaths – especially the murder of his mother – presented to him in such a way sends Tony over the top. Watching them die understandably sends him into “rage mode,” closing off his reasoning and logic “circuits.” Because of this, he does not stop to calculate if HYDRA would go to such an extent to film their “ghost warrior” doing his job, and come up with the more plausible notion that Zemo manufactured the film to make him angry. Instead, he goes wild, attacking and trying to kill Bucky for a crime the other was forced to commit.

Cap prevents him from following through. In doing so, he is not just saving Bucky’s life. He is saving Tony’s soul. Whether he would ever admit it or not (and we can be fairly sure he would not), Tony went into full-on revenge mode. He was going to kill Bucky, for no other reason than to vent his feelings. Afterward, he could explain to Steve how he “had” to do it; how he “had” to get “payback” for the loss of his parents, and everything would be all hunky-dory.

That would have gone over like a lead balloon because it would have been a lie. Killing Bucky would not bring back Tony’s parents. It would not erase the evil HYDRA did to Tony through Bucky, or the wrong HYDRA did to Barnes. To be one hundred percent plain:

Killing Bucky Barnes would be murder. It would make Tony a murderer and no better than Zemo – and thus an easier pawn for Ross to manipulate as he pleased.

And Cap knew it. He also knew that Tony, carried off by his blind rage and pain, would not quit. He had to stop Tony to protect both his friends.

This is the reason why he disabled Tony’s arc reactor. Tony thought Steve was actually going to kill him, when the idea never even crossed his friend’s mind. Steve did not want to kill either of his friends, he wanted to save them both from the evil HYDRA and Zemo had done to them.

The only way to save them was to cut off the power to Tony’s suit and end the fight. So Cap did it. The suit still had enough power to allow Tony to move and walk around, but not the power to carry on a battle.

Then Tony acted truly immature, saying Steve was not worthy to carry and use the shield the senior Stark had made for him. That is a child’s behavior, which is unworthy of any adult. And some part of Tony recognized that.

If he recognized it, then Steve knew it ahead of him. That is why he left the shield behind, essentially saying with the gesture, “You want it? Here, take it. When you grow up, you can give it back. I can get along just fine without it. Because the shield doesn’t make me who I am; I make the shield what it is. When you figure that out, let me know.”

Steve is NOT renouncing the Avengers, his nation, his patriotism, his nature, his honor, or his friendship with Tony. He IS Captain America, with or without that shield. Tony – and a lot of other people, including the Russos and some of the actors in the film – have not figured that out yet. Or if they have, they have not said it for fear of losing future work in Hollywood. This is very sensible of them, considering the fact that they live and work within the confines of Looneyville, Left Coast, U.S.A.

This ending is why Captain America: Civil War is so superior to the comic book conflict of the same name, in my opinion. Cap remains Cap in this film; he never loses his moral center or compromises with the bad guys. He fights for his freedom and the freedom of his friends. Not just their physical, or bodily, freedom. He fought to save Tony’s soul, and he fought to save Bucky’s mind. And he won. Cap is the quintessential best friend. He will never abandon a buddy, even when that pal thinks he has been forsaken.

Only time and the films will show us if Tony will ever grow up to understand what Cap did for him. By the end of Civil War, it seems he is headed in that direction. After all, he did not tear up Cap’s letter. He did not break the phone. He did put Ross on hold. If Tony could see through Loki’s murderous control of Hawkeye’s arrows, as well as overlook the hundreds of people Black Widow killed while she was a Soviet agent, then he should be able to realize that Bucky was in the same boat. Barnes was just used for a longer time and to kill more people – including Tony’s parents. All three were victims that night, and the sooner Tony figures that out, the better.

Until then, Cap is going to keep doing what he has always done. Whether T’Challa gives him a new shield to use until Tony returns the original or not, Steve Rogers is going to remain Cap. And every time the forces of evil move forward to claim territory, they will find Steve standing in the way, saying, “Now just where do you think you’re going?”

And when Tony finally calls, he will barely get past the words, “Cap, I need you…” before Steve is at the door asking, “What’s the situation?”

Captain America: Civil War is NOT the end of their friendship. Their friendship is NOT broken. It is strained, but the strain is on Tony’s end, not Steve’s. The minute Tony needs him, Steve will be there, and it will be business as usual again. Because Steve has already started the process of healing the rift Tony opened in their team by sending him the letter and the phone. When it is time for the Avengers to “reassemble” for Infinity War, the team will have fewer bugs to work out with each other – all thanks to Steve Rogers.

Can the comic book Civil War claim THAT, readers?

Frankly, I do not think it can. And neither can the writers at Marvel Comics. So, Marvel writers, you had better get up off your fannies and pay attention to the guys writing the film scripts. They actually know what they are doing!

Sic semper tyrannis!

The Mithril Guardian

A Contest of Wills

“Since when has the Lord of Gondor been answerable to thee?” said Denethor. “Or may I not command my own servants?”

“You may,” said Gandalf. “But others may contest your will, when it is turned to madness and evil.” – The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Chapter Seven: The Pyre of Denethor by J. R. R. Tolkien

Living on the Heights

Pippin remained behind. “Was there ever anyone like him?” he said. “Except Gandalf, of course. I think they must be related. My dear ass, your pack is lying by your bed, and you had it on your back when I met you. He saw it all the time, of course. And anyway I have some stuff of my own. Come on now! Longbottom Leaf it is. Fill up while I run and see about some food. Dear me! We Tooks and Brandybucks, we can’t live long on the heights.”

“No,” said Merry. “I can’t. Not yet, at any rate. But at least, Pippin, we can now see them, and honor them. It is best to love first what you are fitted to love, I suppose: you must start somewhere and have some roots, and the soil of the Shire is deep. Still there are things deeper and higher; and not a gaffer could tend his garden in what he calls peace but for them, whether he knows about them or not. I am glad that I know about them, a little. But I don’t know why I am talking like this. Where is that leaf? And get my pipe out of my pack, if it isn’t broken.” – The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Chapter Eight: The Houses of Healing by J. R. R. Tolkien

Stories Matter – Why Marvel Comics’ “Secret Wars” Is Not Marvel-Us

‘I have claimed that Escape is one of the main functions of fairy-stories, and since I do not disapprove of them, it is plain that I do not accept the tone of scorn or pity with which “Escape” is now so often used. Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to get out and go home? Or if he cannot do so, he thinks and talks about other topics than jailers and prison-walls?’ (From J. R. R. Tolkien’s On Fairy-Stories, 1939, courtesy of www.interestingliterature.com)

I do not know how or why, but I have always been enchanted by stories. They are, to me, perhaps more than most other physical things in life. Stories are my biggest passion.   There are days I could forego lunch, a trip out of doors, or sleep if it meant a chance to read or see or hear a good story, which sometimes makes me wonder if I am not flaming crazy.

The above quote from J. R. R. Tolkien, taken from a post on Interesting Literature, is something I like to read to remind myself that I am not, in fact, crazy. I just happen to really like stories. Why? Well, why are some people passionate about surfing? Why are some people happiest while they are wood-working? Why are other people almost transported to another world while they are doing math?

We each have our talents, our passions. Stories and their characters are mine.

Escape was a word abused in Tolkien’s day as much as in ours. Then as now stories – whether they were fairy tales or great epics – were sniffed at by those who thought they had no worth.   “Oh, stories are good for little children,” they would – and will – snicker, “but once you are an adult, you don’t need them anymore.”

Uh-huh…. And when I reach adulthood, I can stop eating my veggies, right? I think several dozen fitness experts and dietitians would have an apoplectic fit if I pulled that stunt.

The thing I am trying to say, readers, and I may not be saying it well, is that stories matter. The characters in them matter. They always have and they always will, at least until time ends. Stories are avenues of escape.

But escape from what? Reality? Hardly. I may be addicted to stories, but I can tell you that they have not numbed me to reality in the least.

Stories are ways to escape the prisons forged out of despair, hatred, loneliness, and other evils. There are unfriendly things we have to deal with in this world if we are to survive it and discover our destiny. No one sniffs at the working mother whose husband buys her a ticket to the spa so she can get some down time, or the family that heads out to the park for an afternoon to kick a soccer ball around and enjoy each other’s company.

Yet begin talking about a story you enjoy, and you are suddenly accused of trying to escape reality.

I am no psychiatrist, no scientist, no sort of professional or “expert” whatsoever. But I know stories. I know they matter. I know because they are what make me happy, the same way a surfer is happy when he or she is out there shooting the curl. The same way a carpenter is glad when he planes a piece of wood or finishes a chair. The same way a mathematician receives untold pleasure in figuring out or making new numerical and formulaic puzzles. This is why I post about stories so much.

And this is why I have a problem with the direction the Marvel franchise is headed.

Marvel Comics is currently in the middle of some insane storyline called “Secret Wars.” The many alternate Marvel universes have collided with the “mainstream” – 616 – Marvel Universe which Stan Lee and his fellows created back in the 1960s. 616 Iron Man/Tony Stark and Nick Fury have been transformed into villains and have helped to bring this calamity about. Several characters from all the alternate universes are now struggling to survive alongside the 616 characters. The entire universe is in shambles. To top it off, Marvel is hyping an “All-New, All-Different” Marvel Comics line up for the next year (or more) with the roster for the Avengers completely rearranged – Miles Morales will be Spider-Man, Sam Wilson will still be filling in for Cap, Jane Foster will still be swinging Mjolnir and using the name Thor, and by now I cannot recall the other changes Marvel said were coming out.

I do not know who is alive in the Marvel Universe anymore, who is dead, which characters are wearing which superhero identities. My information is fragmented and despair-filled. The Marvel Comics currently in progress are not the Marvel Comics I enjoyed or, I think, that I could ever enjoy given who and what I am. In an alternate reality, I might. But not in this one, and this reality and the one that follows are the only ones that count.

Marvel knows that they can have all sorts of characters wear, say, Spider-Man’s costume, but the only character fans really want to see in the suit is Peter Parker. They know they can put anyone in the Captain America suit, but the only one who anyone truly wants to see holding the shield and standing up against evil is Steve Rogers. They know what works and they know what does not work. Why they have done what they are doing I cannot say. I only know that it has to stop, before irreparable damage is done to the characters they supposedly love as much as we fans do and, more to the point, which they are charged with protecting and strengthening.

They cannot be allowed to continue down this road, readers. If they do, there will be very little of what is good and right left in Marvel Comics for those who follow us in the near future. The films and cartoons based on their characters will suffer similar fates. For the comics are the roots of these newer forms of the tales and once the roots are poisoned the whole tree will die.

But why do I care about this, when there are so many more important things to think about, so many other calamities hitting the world and society? Well, why did Stan Lee care about this?

Why? Why did Stan Lee care? After the Second World War, all the comic book characters that were churned out for the U.S. soldiers and the kids back home in America were shelved. The comic book companies stopped producing stories for them; they started telling new tales with new characters instead. Though he may have lasted longer than some war-era comic book characters like Prince Namor and the original Human Torch, Cap was eventually put away as well.

Stan Lee saw it all happen. He watched Cap get shelved, along with all the other great characters made during World War II, after he had established his footing in the comic book world. He saw Cap, Bucky, Prince Namor, and others get set up on a high shelf by his bosses, because Cap and the others were “not needed anymore.”

Hah. For someone who is “not needed anymore,” Steve Rogers is awfully popular today, is he not, readers? Where would we (or Marvel, for that matter) be if Stan Lee had left Cap to collect dust on the shelves of Timely Comics, before he owned it and renamed it Marvel Comics?

Stan Lee liked Steve Rogers as much as any of us ever have. He brought Cap back because he knew we were always going to need him. He knew the suit did not make Captain America. Steve Rogers made Captain America. So Stan Lee made sure Steve could go on fighting for the nation he loved, inspiring generations of Marvel fans – outside and inside of the U.S. – to keep on fighting for what is right and true and good in this flawed, chaotic world.

He knew we would always need a rallying point, a character so thoroughly American that he could never consider giving up, not even for a moment. In the Avengers’ fourth issue, Stan Lee reinstated Steve Rogers in the fiction of the world. And we have reaped the benefits not only of Cap’s determination and strength but also of Stan Lee’s foresight and understanding of why we need great stories and great heroes.

And yet we are letting Marvel’s current hierarchy and their writers toss Steve around like a yo-yo.

Marvel knows I am displeased with the way they have taken their stories.  I have made no secret of it, sending them various notes showing my displeasure and suggesting how they might do things better since November/December of 2014.  But I am only one voice. I have no power with them, beyond what I have done.  They can, if they choose, ignore me easily. Odds are good that they will ignore me.

But they cannot ignore more than one voice raised against them in protest of their treatment of their characters.  They cannot ignore fans who tell them, “This stops here, and it stops NOW.”

You want to know something really funny about all this, readers?  Thinking about this post, about how to try and get my point across, I suddenly remembered Captain America: The Winter Soldier.  I recalled Steve Rogers speaking into a SHIELD microphone in the Triskelion, revealing to the World Security Council and the clean SHIELD agents that HYDRA had grown up right under their noses, and was planning to conquer the world through the agency that was supposed to protect humanity.

The part I specifically remembered was Steve saying, “The price of freedom is high.  It always has been.  And it’s a price I’m willing to pay.  And if I’m the only one then so be it.

“But I’m willing to bet I’m not.”

So maybe I am the only one who cares about what Marvel messes with in their comic book universe.  Maybe I am the only one in the world who cares about the characters as they were written and who wants to see that foundation built up, not torn down.  And if I am the only one who cares… then so be it.  I do CARE!!!

But, then again…maybe I’m not the only one.   I do not know.  I cannot know.

The U.S. Marines have a saying, “Is this the hill you want to die on?”  Not particularly. But if it is the hill I am forced to fight on, do not expect me to fight by halves.  A fight is all or nothing.  And if I have to die on this hill, standing beside the river of truth, well, you know – there are much worse hills out there on which to die.

So bring it on, Marvel.  I am willing to fight.

Are you?

The Mithril Guardian

Book Review: The Ballad of the White Horse

Here again I speak of a favorite author just lately mentioned, readers. G. K. Chesterton’s Ballad of the White Horse was recommended to me a long time ago, but only recently did I download a copy of the Ballad to read it.

I enjoyed it immensely but found that my Gutenberg.org edition lacked footnotes to clarify some of Chesterton’s poetry. So I hunted up a hard copy of the book (I usually prefer hardcopies of books or papers anyway) and bought it, determined to better understand what I found to be such joyful reading.

The Ballad of the White Horse, by G. K. Chesterton, tells the story of King Alfred’s battle against the Danes who had invaded England. Alfred was a king dispossessed and in hiding; should the Danes find him, England’s only hope of driving the enemy from her soil would vanish.

It is unimportant how historically accurate The Ballad is to both the author and to me; suffice it to say that Alfred was a king of England and he did drive the Danes from his kingdom – quite heroically, too. Chesterton shows us Alfred hiding from the Danes on the island of Athelney, feeling despair creep over him. His people are scattered or under the yoke of the Danes, his armies destroyed, and his remaining chieftains hold their own territory free of the Danes – but that is all they can do. His situation is looking grimmer by the day.

Then he sees a vision of the Virgin Mary who tells him, “I tell you naught for your comfort/Yea, naught for your desire/Save that the sky grows darker yet/ And the sea rises higher.” Mary adds to her warning: “Do you have faith without a cause/ Yea, faith without a hope?” In other words, Alfred is not told whether he will fail or win, only that he must try to defeat the Danes.

Thus inspired, Alfred heads out to find and rally his chieftains: Mark the Roman, Eldred the Franklin, and Colan the Gael.

On a personal note, of the three chieftains I like Colan best – primarily for the reason Chesterton states here:

“For the great Gaels of Ireland

Are the men that God made mad,

For all their wars are merry,

And all their songs are sad.”

I myself have Irish lineage, though I will say no more of that. But I will take this verse – and others in The Ballad – as compliments high and fair to that race of which I claim a small part.

The final battle against the Danes goes hard; all three chieftains are lost but Alfred does gain the day, and becomes king of England once again. I would recommend to anyone who desires to read the poem to buy a book with footnotes – reliable footnotes – so that they can better understand the Ballad. Apart from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, the Ballad is one of the few works of fiction I will not part with.

A last word, readers. The white horse geoglyph, which does exist and lies carved into a mound in England, is mentioned throughout the Ballad as a recurring theme for the story. During the course of the Ballad, the white horse is used to suggest the transcendent.

As Alfred points out to the king of the invading Danes, Guthrum, destruction is not as wonderful as the Danes make it out to be. Things naturally rot away or crumble back into the earth. Even the White Horse geoglyph disappears under weeds and thorns every year. And it would stay there, lost to history, if it were not scoured annually. Therefore, which is the greater power? he asks. Destruction or preservation?

The answer is pretty obvious; with decay a part of nature, the fact that anything can be preserved through millennia is astounding.

But preservation is no easy task. As Alfred says near the end of the poem:

“Will ye part with the weeds for ever?

Or show daisies to the door?

Or will you bid the bold grass

Go, and return no more?

“And though the skies alter and empires melt,

This word shall still be true:

If we would have the horse of old,

Scour ye the horse anew.”

So, readers, if we would have the good of old, the good we know and love today, in order to keep it tomorrow and into ever after – “If we would have the horse of old” – then we must “scour the White Horse anew.” Time after weary time, battle after exhausting battle, we must fight the “Long Defeat” as Tolkien named it, if we wish to see the victory.

I have a scouring brush. Feel free to join me and the others fighting the “Long Defeat” whenever you wish. 😉

Later,

The Mithril Guardian

Pity and Mercy Can Make All the Difference

It seemed to Frodo then that he heard, quite plainly but far off, voices out of the past:

            What a pity Bilbo did not stab the vile creature when he had the chance!

            Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need.

            I do not feel any pity for Gollum. He deserves death.

            Deserves death! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some die that deserve life. Can you give that to them? Then be not too eager to deal out death in the name of justice, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends.

“Very well,” he answered aloud, lowering his sword. “But still I am afraid. And yet, as you see, I will not touch the creature. For now that I see him, I do pity him.” – The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Chapter Twelve (Chapter One of Book Four): The Taming of Sméagol by J. R. R. Tolkien

The Songs from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Hey there, everyone! Here we are in Middle-earth yet again. I do not know just why, but I have to tell you that I cannot get enough of The Hobbit films at the moment. I just keep circling back to them.

I suppose part of it is that the films are over now. I got to see The Lord of the Rings about six or more years back, and I naturally enjoyed them a great deal. But it was a real treat to see The Hobbit brought to the silver screen. True, the movies do not align precisely with the book, but the overall film version has differences with which I can happily live. So, with the new trilogy at an end, there are no more journeys to Middle-earth to look forward to every year. All good things must come to an end, as they say. *Sigh.*

On a lighter note, I thought that I would highlight the magnificent songs we saw in the first Hobbit film, An Unexpected Journey. If you have been looking at my blog since I first set up shop, then you know I did a post about these songs waaay back in 2013, after An Unexpected Journey was old news (or nearly so). With the films over, I thought I would do another post on those songs which completely captured my imagination in theaters. First up is, naturally, “Blunt the Knives”:

 

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey – “Blunt the Knives”

 

This song provides almost endless joy for me. First, I like it because the song really impressed me when I read The Hobbit some years ago. Reading about Bilbo’s hobbit hole being invaded by Dwarves who subsequently clean up his house, a la Disney style, was great fun. When I heard that The Hobbit was being filmed, I hoped this scene would make it into the movie. Oh, rapture, it did!

When the Dwarves start singing as Fili, Kili, and Bifur begin tidying up the dinnerware, I wanted to bounce in my seat like an excited child. But as the scene unfolded and the Dwarves’ acrobatics became more and more complicated and sophisticated, I became enthralled. I think my mouth literally hung open until the end of the song, when I started giggling and laughing (quietly, so that I would not annoy the other movie goers). To this day I watch the Dwarves “Carefully! Carefully!” put away the plates every chance I get.

The next song in the line-up is “Misty Mountains”:

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey – “Misty Mountains”

 

“Misty Mountains” is perfect. In The Hobbit, Bilbo literally falls asleep while listening to the Dwarves sing about their stolen hoards of gold and their lost kingdom. Listening to the song in the theater, I thought: “Ooooh, if only I didn’t have to watch the movie, or worry about falling asleep in the theater! I’d go to sleep this instant listening to this, if I could!”

Needless to say, I did not fall asleep. My only complaint is that so little of the song made it to the screen! It is not nearly long enough to lull me to sleep, as it sent Bilbo off to dreamland in Tolkien’s The Hobbit.

By the way, “Blunt the Knives” and “Misty Mountains” were written by Tolkien and are part of The Hobbit. The lyrics have been re-arranged for the film, but otherwise the songs are as found in the book.

The next song in the film is also the last in the theatrical release. Sung by Neil Finn, it is called “Over the Lonely Mountain”:

 

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey – “Over the Lonely Mountain” – by Neil Finn

 

This song was a great way to end An Unexpected Journey in this writer’s opinion.   Based on “Misty Mountains,” the song is slow but forceful. Some of the sounds (I am not sure they qualify as notes) in the song are reminiscent of hammers at work in a smith’s forge, recalling a scene early in An Unexpected Journey which showed Thorin Oakenshield at a forge sometime after he and his people had been chased out of the Lonely Mountain and forced to wander Middle-earth, taking whatever work they could find to survive.

The lyrics “some folk we never forget/some kind we never forgive/haven’t seen the back of us yet,” etcetera, drive this parallel home to me. The song seems to be mostly about Thorin, but has hints that other Dwarves of Durin’s line and folk feel the same way about Erebor’s fall. I really do not know what else I can say about this song at the moment. I feel my opinions about it too strongly for words, so I am afraid this paltry praise is all I can give you today, readers.

The last song in this post is also from An Unexpected Journey. If you have the extended edition of that film, then you already know about this song. As for me, I discovered it when I was looking up other videos from The Hobbit films. So, without further ado, here’s “The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late”!!!

 

The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late

 

James Nesbitt apparently wrote the music for this song himself. “The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late,” is actually a song from The Fellowship of the Ring. Trying to distract the crowd when Pippin begins retelling the story of Bilbo’s eleventy-first birthday, Frodo jumps up on a table in the Prancing Pony and begins singing the song, which was written by Bilbo, as it turns out. But his impromptu performance ends in disaster when he tumbles off the table and the Ring “accidently” slips onto his finger and makes him vanish.

In this extended scene from An Unexpected Journey, however, the Dwarves are trying desperately not to lose their minds as they listen to the dulcet music the Elves play for their enjoyment. Nori says he “feels like [he’s] at a funeral!” So Bofur decides there is only one remedy for the situation: he jumps up on a platform between the Dwarves’ dinner tables and starts singing a shortened version of “The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late.”

Now why the Dwarves would all start pelting each other with food, I cannot say, other than to make the Elves and Gandalf – who was trying to make the Elves feel more at ease with their prejudiced guests – uncomfortable. If that was their aim, then they succeeded admirably, though they may have done it simply because they could not stand Elven food, which was not very meat-rich.

Regardless, I enjoy the video because of “The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late.” I enjoyed the song as written in The Fellowship of the Ring, and to hear it being sung is wonderful. Everyone did their best with bringing The Hobbit to life on the silver screen and, while the movies may not be everything we wish they were, they are great fun nonetheless. So, readers, until we meet again –

The Mithril Guardian

(bowing)

At your service!

The Hobbit Film Trilogy: Bard the Bowman

 

Greetings, readers! Today I once again find myself wandering through The Hobbit films. This time, though, the focus is on the most important Man in the films, Bard the Bowman.

Ever since I encountered him in the pages of The Hobbit, I have liked Bard. His sense of justice, his courage, and his compassion all combined to make him a very appealing character. When I heard they were making a film of The Hobbit, one of my first thoughts was: “Yes! That means we get to see Bard on the silver screen! Yahoo!”

Well, we did not get to see him in An Unexpected Journey, but by the middle of The Desolation of Smaug, there he was. He came up on the Dwarves nice and quiet after they had escaped the Wood Elves – and he managed to not only intimidate Dwalin with a well shot arrow but also to startle Kíli, the Company’s only archer!

It takes some work, but Balin eventually convinces him to smuggle the Company into Lake-town. The good old Dwarf’s only mistake is to mention Bard’s wife, who has been dead for some years. But, despite that mistake, Balin gets them passage to Lake-town on Bard’s barge. And Bard, just like in the book, stays true to his word. He gets them safely into Lake-town – though they probably smelled strongly of fish for a few hours after!

And once they are in town, Bard hides the Company in his house, introducing his son Bain and two daughters to them (interestingly, Bard had no daughters in the book, and we only learn about Bain in The Fellowship of the Ring). As the Company prepares to head for the Mountain, Bard hears Thorin’s name mentioned. Recognizing the name, but unable to recall why, he leaves Bain in charge of the household to search for answers…

… and finds he is sheltering the dispossessed King under the Mountain in his home. He also recalls the prophecy which states that, although the King under the Mountain “shall come into his own,” the lake “will shine and burn.” Which means his family and the people of Lake-town are in serious trouble. But, just as in the book, no one heeds Bard’s warnings. He is always predicting all manner of disasters, they say, which never come to pass. Why should this be any different?

Disappointed by his people’s blindness and the determination of Thorin to enter the Mountain no matter what, Bard leaves the Company to be celebrated by the townspeople. He and his children do not see the Company off but remain at home, where Bofur, Fíli, and Óin find them some time later.

At first, Bard will not let them in. “No!” he snaps before Bofur can speak. “I’ve had enough of Dwarves!”

But when he sees Kíli’s condition and learns that no one else will help the four Dwarves, Bard’s compassion overrules his frustration. He lets them into the house once again, and does his best to help them with Kíli’s injury. When the Mountain starts to rumble, however, Bard realizes that Smaug is awake. Though the dragon has not left the Mountain in years, with a Company of Dwarves disturbing his rest, it is all too probable that he will leave his hoard to attack Lake-town.

And with that in mind, Bard unveils the great Black Arrow that has been passed down through his family since the time of his great forefather, the last King of Dale, Girion.

My only issue with the Black Arrow as portrayed in the film was that it was too big. In the book, the black arrow was an ordinary arrow. It was, apparently, made of iron, but otherwise it was an ordinary arrow. Still, before Bard can prepare the Arrow for firing, he is captured by the Master of Lake-town and his servant Alfrid, who are hoping to ruin Bard’s reputation with the Lake Men. Unknown to the Master, however, Bain has hidden the Black Arrow and returned to the house – in time to run into a bunch of Orcs and two Elves.

It is going to be a long night.

Thinking they have removed the last obstacle to their power, the Master and Alfrid congratulate each other on locking Bard up. But in doing so they only succeed in leaving Lake-town largely defenseless when Smaug attacks. Bard, however, manages to escape his cell – proof that you cannot keep a concerned, loving father locked up when his family is in danger. Grabbing a bow and a quiver full of arrows, Bard is the only one to challenge Smaug as the dragon sprays the wooden houses with fire.

As Tauriel and the Dwarves work to get Bard’s children out of the flaming town, Bain spots his father firing on the dragon. He points him out to the others in the boat, and Kíli sees one of his arrows strike the dragon. But Tauriel tells them that though the shot was well aimed, it cannot pierce the dragon’s scales. From where she sits, it appears that Bard is a deader.

That is when Bain sees the boat where he hid the Black Arrow, still afloat and undamaged. Without a word, he jumps out of the boat carrying his sisters, the Dwarves, and their Elven guard. Going to the boat, he grabs the Arrow and climbs up the bell tower to his father.

Bard first chastises his son for coming back to him, then smiles when Bain holds up the Black Arrow. He then has to keep his son safe when Smaug whacks the bell’s tower, taking off the top of the tower and the bell. Bard picks up the Arrow, then finds his bow has snapped.

Smaug lands and begins taunting the “Bowman,” telling him he cannot save his son or anyone else. But Bard has other ideas. Using the remains of his bow, some rope, and his son’s shoulder, Bard nocks the Black Arrow and prepares to take aim. Bain, of course, is very scared about being the rest for the Arrow – especially since his back is to the dragon that wants to eat him! Bard tells his son to “look at me,” in order to keep him calm and still. (Very William Tell – nice job, Peter Jackson!) Bain calms down as Smaug takes another step forward…

And reveals the missing scale in the left side of his chest. Bard takes aim at the space and, as Smaug jumps into the air, fires. The shot is true and Smaug dies – conveniently landing on the Master as he tries to escape Lake-town with a boatload of gold, removing him from the film as well (fare thee well, Stephen Fry).

By dawn, the survivors of Lake-town have reached the lake shore. Bard’s daughters go into the crowd, searching for their father, as Alfrid tries to become the new Master of the Lake Men. Remembering his conduct of the night previous, when he tried to escape the town on the Master’s barge (since they needed to lighten the load to get through a particular channel, the Master tossed him overboard), the Lake Men are not going to just roll over and accept Alfrid as their new Master.

When one woman tells that to Alfrid’s face, he prepares to strike her – only for Bard to stop him. Reunited with his daughters, Bard is acclaimed the hero of Lake-town. The people begin to chant “King Bard! King Bard!” Alfrid, trying to keep himself in a good position, joins in the chanting.

The crowd goes absolutely silent, and Bard shoots him a disgusted look. That is when the people come up with the happy idea of hanging Alfrid from the nearest tree. They grab him, hoist him over their heads, and start off, Alfrid screaming for mercy as they do so.

I was looking forward to what Bard would do in this scene. I knew what he had done in the book, and I was really hoping he would behave in a similar manner in the film.

Peter Jackson did not disappoint me. Bard stops the Lake Men, reminding them that there has been enough death and counseling them to have at least a little mercy for Alfrid. However, a little mercy does not include liking him, as Bard proves when Alfrid tries to lean on him as a friend and Bard dumps him on the ground.

With that matter settled, Bard leads the people to the ruins of Dale, hoping to get them to something resembling shelter, since winter is setting in. But the ruins are little help against the cold, and the Lake Men have few supplies. Bard decides that he will go to Thorin and ask for the recompense he promised the Lake Men, so that they can get about surviving the winter and rebuilding Dale and the Lake-town. Then, just to make sure Alfrid will pull his weight, Bard puts him on guard duty.

In the morning, he discovers that this was a lousy idea. In the night, Alfrid slept, and an army of Wood Elves has taken up residence inside Dale. Not long after making this discovery, Bard meets Thranduil who, perhaps recalling Thorin’s stinging rebuke about how little he helped the Dwarves after Smaug took the Lonely Mountain, has brought supplies for the Lake Men. Bard, in gratitude for Thranduil’s aid to the Lake Men, agrees to help him get his own compensation from Thorin.

However, Bard wants to at least try to get what was promised to his people without a war. He rides up to the front entrance of the Lonely Mountain, which Thorin has had sealed off. There he begs him to remember that he gave his word, that the people of Lake-town have paid dearly for helping him and his Company, and now they need Thorin’s help.

But Thorin’s natural weakness for gold – in the film it is repeatedly called “dragon sickness” – prevents him from feeling any pity or compassion for the people of Lake-town. Nor, for that matter, does he feel any need to repay Bard for his help: first in bringing the Dwarves to Lake-town, then in sheltering Fíli, Kíli, Óin, and Bofur when no one else would.

Aggravated, Bard returns to Thranduil and reluctantly agrees to join the Elven King’s attack on the Lonely Mountain at dawn. Though Bard does not want to go to war with the Dwarves, Thranduil has helped him and his people. They owe the Elven King for that, and Thorin still owes Bard’s people the gold he promised them. He knows he has gotten mixed up in the grudge match between Thranduil and Thorin; he also knows there is no way he can get out of it without him and his people being left to die off slowly throughout the winter.

Gandalf’s arrival only makes matters worse for him. Bard learns from the wizard that an army of Orcs is headed for the Mountain; their leader wants to kill Thorin and he is willing to go through everyone in and around Erebor to do it. The situation is looking grimmer by the second when Bilbo suddenly arrives. He presents Bard, Thranduil, and Gandalf with the Arkenstone, the one treasure in the hoards of Erebor which Thorin desires above all else. Bilbo seems certain that Thorin will hand over the treasure he owes Bard and Thranduil in exchange for the Heart of the Mountain. With a bargaining chip such as this, Bard hopes they have a way of avoiding war with the Dwarves.

But Bilbo’s plan, while not worthless, has the undesired effect of making Thorin even more determined to go to war. This is made apparent when Thorin’s cousin, Dain Ironfoot, arrives with an army of five hundred Dwarves from the Iron Hills. War among the three races is about to commence when the Orcs arrive. Instead of turning against each other, however, the would-be enemies turn to face the Orcs whom they all recognize as a threat greater than their grudges and broken promises.

When Azog sends an Orc battalion into Dale to attack the Lake-town survivors, Bard’s first thoughts are for his people and, most especially, for his son and daughters. He leads his men into battle against the Orcs and still manages to come to the direct defense of his three children. Throughout the rest of the Battle of the Five Armies, Bard holds the Orcs who enter Dale within the ruined city, eventually destroying them all while preserving the lives of his children and most of his people.

Nothing more is mentioned about Bard in the film, unfortunately, but I do know a few details from the book(s) which may interest you, readers. After the Battle of the Five Armies, Bard and his people did receive the recompense from the Dwarves that they were promised.   Dain, who became the new King under the Mountain after Thorin’s death, honored his cousin’s promise to the fullest extent. Bard gave some of the jewels Dain returned to him – emeralds which were heirlooms of his family – to Thranduil in gratitude for his help during the Lake Men’s time of need.

With all this new wealth, Lake-town was rebuilt, and its new Master “was of wiser kind” than the former. Trade between the Woodland realm, Dale, Lake-town, Erebor, and the people to the South resumed – pretty soon, gold was running as thick as the river was deep! The people were all rich beyond imagining. Bard became king of the rebuilt Dale, and Bain succeeded him when his time came. Bain was then succeeded by his own son, Brand, who ruled Dale up to and during the War of the Ring.

A few months prior to the War of the Ring, messengers from Sauron came to Dain and Brand, asking them to find the One Ring, since they were acquainted with Bilbo at one time. Neither the King under the Mountain nor the King of Dale gave Sauron’s messengers a satisfactory answer to this “request.” When the messengers left, they promised retribution if the two kings did nothing to aid Sauron.

The reprisal came during the Fellowship of the Ring’s travails. Dale and the Lonely Mountain were both attacked several times. In one of the final engagements, Dain and Brand were killed where they fought side by side against the Orcs. Thorin III (Thorin Oakenshield was Thorin II) and Bard II, Dain’s and Brand’s sons respectively, then became the King under the Mountain and the King of Dale, after leading the final assault against the Orcs. At the same time Dale and Erebor were under attack, Thranduil’s realm was also assailed a number of times, but each attack was successfully repulsed. With the fall of Sauron, Mirkwood was renamed Eryn Lasgalen (which means ‘wood of green leaves’), and life in the North went back to normal.

But this normal would not have existed if thirteen Dwarves and one Hobbit had not driven the great dragon Smaug out of the Lonely Mountain; and if one Man had not taken aim at the dragon and found his one weak spot. Without Bard, even driving Smaug out of the Mountain would not have been enough. If Smaug had been allowed to remain in Erebor, all the North would have become his domain while he was under Sauron’s control. As Gandalf said at the beginning of The Desolation of Smaug, the dragon had to go, or Middle-earth would pay dearly for his staying under the Mountain.

Well, readers, as you can see I was very pleased with Bard’s portrayal in The Hobbit films. The only thing I would have done differently, had I been filming the movies, is that I would have shown him paying Thranduil for his help, with the mention that he would be the new ruler of Dale henceforward. But maybe the Extended Editions of The Hobbit films will have a scene or two showing us some of what happens to Bard after the Battle of the Five Armies. We shall have to wait and see.  😉

Until next time!

The Mithril Guardian

http://borg.com/2012/08/02/jackson-confirms-division-of-the-hobbit-into-three-films/

http://borg.com/2014/12/18/a-battle-of-two-reviews-examining-peter-jacksons-the-hobbit-the-battle-of-the-five-armies/

http://borg.com/2014/08/02/cloaks-daggers-new-book-offers-unprecedented-access-to-movie-costume-props-and-sets-of-the-hobbit-series

http://borg.com/2013/12/25/movie-review-an-amazing-adventure-awaits-in-the-hobbit-the-desolation-of-smaug/

http://borg.com/2012/12/25/the-hobbit-argo-and-arrow-lead-off-our-list-of-the-best-of-2012/

http://borg.com/2012/12/15/opening-weekend-review-the-hobbit-a-masterpiece-of-fantasy-perfection/