King Théoden as a Heroic Figure
As a lifelong fan, there are many scenes and stories within J.R.R. Tolkienâs The Lord of the Rings which I find beautiful and moving. Yet even in a world with so many fantastic characters one story stands out to me as the most compelling. That story is the story of King ThĂ©oden, perhaps the most heroic character in the entire War of the Ring. He is a legendary hero like those found in the Norse Sagas, with a tragic and heroic destiny. His salvation and his triumph make him a great role model for those who wish to live a glorious life.
To set the scene, in The Two Towers we find King Théoden a sad figure. He is a weak king with modest achievements. He has grown old sitting in his chair, watching helplessly as the Uruks of Saruman and the wild men of Dunland run rampant in his lands. All his life he has ruled with a soft hand and has watched the power of his own house and of Rohan itself diminish. In fear and timidity, he sits and waits as his death approaches, clinging to false hope and shying away from risk and open war with the enemy. He is "a lesser son of greater sires" who lives his life in the shadow of his legendary forefathers. He is an important man, but no hero.
As the threat from Isengard grows, he is faced with the uncomfortable reality of the danger to Rohan. He is forced to abandon his hall and to flee to the protection of Helmâs Deep. Once there, he mounts a desperate defense as the armies of Isengard come crashing against the walls. ThĂ©oden and his people cling to false hope and put faith in their fortress, and when the Uruks breach the wall they shut themselves inside the Hornburg. Remembering the words of Gandalf, the Riders of Rohan ride forth from the keep and are saved just in time by Erkenbrand of Westfold (Eomer in the films). With these reinforcements, the people of Rohan survive the battle of Helm's Deep. At this point ThĂ©oden is a fortunate man, a man of necessity, and perhaps a man of good faith, but still not quite heroic.
The King, who up to this point had been a desperate man who had just escaped death by good fortune and pragmatism, has a change of heart. Théoden recognizes at last that the great destiny of his era is at hand. The forces of Mordor are on the move, and the ensuing battle will decide the fate of the world and will mark the beginning of the Fourth Age. He recognizes further that his own doom (destiny) is at hand, and that his choices now will define his legacy for all time. If he were to retreat to his hall, fortify his town, and defend his people to the end, he would eventually be overrun by the might of Mordor. But should he ride out to meet the hosts of darkness, he would likely find death sooner, for he is an old man and Mordor is a mighty enemy. His destiny is clear: this will be his last great task and his last war; his doom is upon him. He has no choice but how he will meet it: will he die at home, putting it off a little while, or will he ride out to face it?
Resigned, determined, and hopeless, ThĂ©oden resolves to ride to war. He rides without hope, but resigned to his fate. What else can he do? The six thousand riders form lines and prepare to charge into the enemyâs spears. What else can they do? Go home and wait for the same Orcs to come to them? The King speaks:
"Arise, arise, Riders of ThĂ©oden! Fell deeds awake, fire and slaughter! spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!â
As spoken in the films:
"Ride! Ride to ruin and the worldâs ending! Death! Death! Death!"
This is not bravado, but resignation. King ThĂ©oden and the Riders of Rohan are face-to-face with death, at the great battle of their era, the worldâs ending and the ruin of all. They have accepted their fate and are charging to meet it. Against all odds, against the absurd, against nihilism, they confront the evil which they are duty-bound to fight to the death. âDeath! Death! Death!â they cry as the King leads the charge.
It is this tragic resignation that makes ThĂ©oden a heroic figure. The acceptance of fate, the choice to meet oneâs doom bravely, without hope for survival but with hope for honor and glory in the face of the greatest evil, upholding oneâs virtues when nihilism and cowardice are the easier choice- that is the heroic mindset. Like the Norse Gods riding to their doom at Ragnarok, like Sisyphus continuing to role his stone, like the Roman soldier who died at his post in Pompeii because no one came to relieve him. ThĂ©oden goes to his own doom in glory and triumph, not against his adversary but against himself and his own fear. And when he finds his doom on the battlefield, we are happy for him.
Unlike Greek tragic heroes, who we pity due to their unfortunate ends, heroic heroes die the kinds of deaths that we wish we could. When Théoden meets his death on the field, we feel sad but we do not weep for him so much as for ourselves, for we have been robbed of a great man. But for Théoden we feel a sense of closure, for he has met his destiny as well as any person could dream of doing. He has died as a hero and his tale will be sung until there are no men of Rohan left to sing his praises.
"I go to my fathers. And even in their mighty company I shall not now be ashamed."
//Suddenly the king cried to Snowmane and the horse sprang away. Behind him his banner blew in the wind, white horse upon a field of green, but he outpaced it. After him thundered the knights of his house, but he was ever before them. Ăomer rode there, the white horsetail on his helm floating in his speed, and the front of the first Ă©ored roared like a breaker foaming to the shore, but ThĂ©oden could not be overtaken. Fey he seemed, or the battle-fury of his fathers ran like new fire in his veins, and he was borne up on Snowmane like a god of old, even as OromĂ« the Great in the battle of the Valar when the world was young. His golden shield was uncovered and lo! it shown like an image of the Sun, and the grass flamed into green about the white feet of his steed. For morning came, morning and a wind from the sea; and darkness was removed, and the hosts of Mordor wailed, and terror took them, and they fled, and died, and the hoofs of wrath rode over them. And then all the host of Rohan burst into song, and they sang as they slew, for the joy of battle was on them, and the sound of their singing that was fair and terrible came even to the city.//
