Placemaking in Middle Earth and Earthsea - John B. @johns-adventures-in-placemaking - Tumblr Blog

Horses and Time

This week we dived into the aspects of Pazyryk culture shared by humans and horses. As someone who grew up around horses and animals in general, I found the author’s views of human-animal codependence to be very relatable. The discussion of stages of life being tied to ones horses was also very interesting. The idea of transitioning from the horse who trained you to an eventual horse who is your partner is a very interesting one, and something I thing more people relate to then then would initially think. Many of us have animals, if not horses likely cats or dogs. I think that these too can fill these roles of mentor and partner throughout life. I definitely had pets growing up that mentored and watched over me. I also found the ideas of life and death the author believes are imbedded in the horse tattoos to be extremely fascinating. Argent writes, “The horse is dead, but he is also always alive--and memorialized playfully, happily so--his memory and power always with the person and visible to the community” (pg. 187-188). I think this idea of persistence beyond death in a way through time is something that many of us share when it comes to our animals. I know at least that I feel like the cats and dogs of my past are still with me due to the way they’ve shaped my life no matter how long they’ve been gone. Time changes lots of things, but somethings seem to resist its influence completely.

Mentors and Trust

While there are many similarities between the relationship between Ged and Arren, and that of Gandalf and Aragorn, I am most interested in their differences. Yes, both involve wise wizards and men who lack magic, and both pairs go on perilous journeys to save the world, the way they interact with one another is starkly different. I think the root of this difference is in Gandalf’s own sureness in his own powers and limits. At any given time he knows exactly what he is capable of and how he can help. Aragorn trusts Gandalf completely, without question, in part because of this. While he may not understand everything that Gandalf says must be done or will come to pass, he knows that Gandalf is doing everything within his power to make things right. This trust has been built up over years of familiarity, as the two met long before the events of The Lord of the Rings, when Aragorn was much younger, only 25, some 50-60 years prior. Arren on the other hand barely knows Ged, and knows much more about his position as Archmage and the tales of his deeds. Much of the trust Arren does place in Ged is blind. Even Ged himself is much less sure of himself than Gandalf. Not being a being that has existed outside of the universe and time himself he still needs to find the limits of his own powers. As they sail towards their final confrontation Ged says, “A goatherd to set the heir of Morred on his throne! Will I never learn?” (The Farthest Shore pg. 200). Even at the end of his journey as the greatest wizard of all time, he is still surprised at what he can accomplish. Reflecting on it, its honestly no wonder that he doesn’t inspire the same trust in Arren that Gandalf does in Aragorn.

Lorbanery and Life Without Luster

This chapter really highlights what life looks like without any meaning or deeper purpose. While the landscape is lush and green as Sparrowhawk and Arren approach Lorbanery, the town seems to be completely mired in problems, all of which stem from the fact that no one has any desire to do anything. The buildings are faded, the paths are unkempt, general disarray abounds. The most striking example of this is when the duo visits the dye-makers. “The house stood apart among its own orchards, a fine building of stone, but it and all its acreage had gone long uncared for. Cocoons of ungathered silkworms hung discolored among the ragged branches, and the ground beneath was thick with a a papery litter of dead grubs and moths. All about the house under the close-set trees there hung an odor of decay” (pg.105). The general state of the island reminds me very much of spouts of depression, where even maintaining basic upkeep becomes an insurmountable task. It will be interesting to explore the cause of this effect on people, and whether or not it can ever be reversed. Can they regain their purpose and names the way that we can survive through depression? I certainly hope so.

Power Through Belief

The Kargad God-Kings seem to be almost ripped directly from the God-kings of Ur, and they attempt to control power in much the same way. Dickson writes, “their god-kings needed both continuous contact with the supernatural and constant affirmation of their divinity. These requirements obliged their rulers ceaselessly to practise theatrical rites of public mystification, including acts of calculated cruelty” (pg. 124). This is exactly the behavior we see in The Tombs of Atuan, where the God-King sends prisoners as offering to the Nameless Ones, and promotes rituals to honor them. In reality though, any honoring of the Nameless Ones seems to be for the sole purpose of aligning themselves with godliness and godhood. In much the same way that the Nameless Ones’ power depends on how much people believe in them, the same is true for the God-Kings of Ur and Karg. By creating mass spectacles of death, they foster this belief by showing that they can control life and death, which is certainly a godly power. Of course it is much easier to take life than to create it. I wonder if the influence of the Kargad God-King will be lessened now that the temple of the Nameless Ones has collapsed and he no longer has their power and authority to align himself with.

The Tombs of Atuan: Ancient Egyptian Vikings?

Having never read The Tombs of Atuan before I was struck by how different of a culture the Kargs have compared to the people of Gont and the rest of the Archipelago. To me, the Kargad culture reminds me very much of what I know of ancient Egypt, and how the pyramids were constructed. Le Guin describes the Temple of the Godking as “with a high portico and a row of thick white columns with painted capitals--each one a solid log of cedar, brought on shipboard from Hur-at-Hur where there are forests, and dragged by the straining of twenty slaves across the barren plains to the Place” (The Tombs of Atuan, pg. 14). This imagery of monuments to Gods long dead and mostly forgotten fleshed out the harshness of the Kargs, but also made them feel less primitive and barbaric, but much more sinister. While they don’t use magic, and view it as trickery, they seem very much in tune with the Nameless Ones, which seem to be a far older power, one likely magical in nature. Above all, the Kargad culture seems harsh. Love and kindness are not things ever found at the Place. There is no time for fun or joy. Existence is simply learning tradition and maintaining the rituals required by the Nameless One’s. I can’t help but hope that most of this culture is limited to the Place, and that the rest of the Kargad Empire is more like the rest of Earthsea, with culture that is much less brutal.

Shadows and Balance

Often, as Ursula Le Guin Suggests, we think of good and evil as black and white. Things are always one or the other. In her discussion of The child and the Shadow, she goes on to suggest that we consider how this is not usually the case. It turns out that almost everything ends up being shades of grey. She also goes on to discuss at some length the Jungian concept of “The Shadow”. While she does a great job of distilling the concept I think there are a few more points that can be highlighted. Mainly that the Shadow consists of the aspects of a person that are not clearly known to them/their ego. This means that most people tend to think of the Shadow as a collection of mostly negative things about humanity and themselves. In reality, the Shadow can contain. positive qualities as well. Jung remarks “Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” (Psychology and Religion, pg. 131). This suggests that regardless of the nature of the Shadow, the more it is ignored and separated from the conscious mind, the more evil it is. Jung’s psychology also discusses merging with one’s Shadow, an event where the Shadow overwhelms the person and controls their actions, temporarily superseding the ego. This is very reminiscent of Ged’s multiple encounters with his Shadow, where it overpowers him. Finally, however, Ged merges with his shadow, accepting it as a part of himself. Jung calls this Assimilation, where the person retains awareness of their Shadow and how it influences and shapes them as a person. I think it is very clear from these comparisons that Ged’s shadow is indeed a representation of Jungian Psychology, and its connections to the ideas of balance. I’m very interested to see if she explores more psychology in the sequel Earthsea books.

Interconnected by the Sea

One of the most fascinating things about Earthsea to me is how much the sea dwarfs the land. Even on Earth, the sea greatly out-scales the land, but on Earthsea, there is almost no land compared to the vastness of the sea. One of the things that struck me as so different about how the denizens of Earthsea must live their lives is the dependence on the weather. Because much of our travel and small scale trade takes place over land, we often don’t need to consider weather overly much, and even when we do, we have ways of combating the weather. The sea, however, can become completely impassible if you don’t have large enough ships (Which I’m sure Earthsea does not). All of your plans hinge on the seas being calm enough to travel, meaning that seasonal affects are a huge concern. We see this in chapter 8 when Ged seeks out a ship on Gont. “All answered him that no ship would be leaving Gont Port now, so near Sunreturn, and at the Sea-Guild they told him that even fishingboats were not going out through the Armed Cliffs in the untrusty weather” (A Wizard of Earthsea, pg. 154). So it is not just travel or leisure that is affected, but peoples livelihoods as well. Not even the fisherman dare to test the wrath of the sea. We also see that protection against the sea is considered a highly valuable commodity, with a man eventually agreeing to sell Ged an old boat in exchange for a spell of sea-safety. In our world, weather never poses more than an inconvenience. Perhaps it may cause a small delay or a missed flight, but almost no one alters important plans just because of weather. But when the sea becomes the roads that connect the world, people have little choice.

Vikings and Fridays

While I have always known Vikings as raiders and pillagers, their involvement in the slave trade was never something I thought about. Clearly due to their frequent use of the sea, they would be one of the early cultures most suited to slave transport. In regards to the evidence for Viking slaving, Raffield writes, “it is important to recognise that the evidence for slaving derives entirely from non-Scandinavian sources” (pg. 685). This is extremely interesting to me, as I would imagine that slaving would be more present in Viking texts if it were an important part of the culture, which it clearly seemed to be. It is almost as though the Vikings did not view their raiding and abduction of peoples to be slavery. I wonder if they somehow believed that by ripping people away from their homes and lives they were exposing them to a better way of life, one where they could potentially rise up in society depending on their abilities. Obviously this is conjecture, but it seems possible. From the evidence Raffield presents, it seems that the Vikings were more likely to keep as slaves those they viewed as valuable or useful. By comparison, at this point in Earthsea, the Kargs have shown basically no interest in slaves, only in pillaging. I am very curious to see how their culture develops over the series, and if it will further mimic real Vikings.

Ten Alders and the Shire

To me, the biggest similarity between the mountain folk of Gont and the hobbits of the Shire is their peaceful and reclusive nature. Both cultures seem very content with living simple lives unconcerned with the doings of others, or war and conquest. As the people of Ten Alders prepare for an attack by the Kargs Le Guin writes, “... for the mountain folk of Gont are not warlike; it is not warriors they are famous for, but goat-thieves...” (A Wizard of Earthsea pg. 9). However, they differ hugely in their respect for magic. In the shire, Gandalf is seen as a disturber of the peace, and is largely distrusted by everyone except for the Bagginses and those who remember his firework displays. In Gont however, wizards, witches, and all those who have magical power are respected to a very high degree. When Ogion appears to help heal Sparrowhawk, the boy’s father immediately listens to his council and agrees that his son should be the Wizards apprentice, even though that likely means sending him away forever. This similarity and difference in culture leads me to believe that while both cultures appreciate a simple life, they have different definitions of what that means. To the people of Gont, magic is very much a part of their everyday life and not entirely strange or out of the ordinary, while to the people of the Shire, magic is a direct opponent to everything they hold dear. I also believe that is this distinction that is the cause of many of the other differences in their culture.

Liminal Spaces and the Fear of Death

As Frodo, Sam, and Gollum venture into the dead marshes they reach an important part of their journey. In this liminal space where they have left all friends behind and yet still have so far to go, Frodo comes to terms with the fact that he will likely not survive his task. In his discussion with Sam about this fact he comes across as very calm and accepting, as if his heart has known for some time, but his mind is only just catching on. I think there are deeply similarities here to the journey of Dante, and his realization of where he is.

“Looks back at the deep he has escaped, my thought

Returned, still fleeing, to regard that grim defile

That never left any alive who stayed in it. “ (Dante: The Inferno Canto 1)

At this point his terror has left him, and he is able to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation he finds himself in. Stuck in a liminal space for those after death. I find it very interesting that both Frodo and Dante have seemingly no fear during these realizations. Despite the fact that coming face to face with the reality of ones own demise is likely one of the harshest realizations one can have. I can’t help but wonder if their calm is at least partially what allows them to continue the journey ahead?

The Transitory Kingdom of Rohan

Throughout this course we have looked at many unique places and how they differ through the eyes of those who view them. However up until now the key differences in how our heroes experience place is largely due to their knowledge of that place, and any unfamiliarity with it. When Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli come to the land of the Golden Hall, the key difference in their experiences can be attributed to the short nature of the lives of men. Upon reaching the barrows of the kings of Rohan Aragorn comments that many lives of men passed since the hall was made. Legolas responds by saying “Five hundred times have the red leaves fallen in Mirkwood in my home since then, and but a little while does it seem to us” (Two Towers, pg. 507). To the mortal races of middle-earth, Théoden's hall stands as a great monument to the history of men, but to Legolas, it might as well be a newly constructed suburb. Even armed with the knowledge of the history of the place, and likely dealings with its inhabitants in the past, his perceptions are completely contextualized by his experience of time.

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Weathertop by mithrialxx

Weathertop and the Witch-king

Once one of the strongholds of the men of Arnor and the seat of one of their palantíri, Amon Sûl or Weathertop was a place of extreme importance. It was the location of the meeting of armies during the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. When it was destroyed by the Witch-king over 1000 years later, it was a crucial victory for him and a sign of the downfall of men. Thinking about how he and the rest of the Nine must view this place leads to some particularly interesting conclusions. Due to their previous victory here I am almost certain that they view this as a reminder of the weakness of men, a stubborn mousehole that simply needs to be cleared out whenever their enemies might decide to take refuge there. Perhaps one of the reasons it was never completely destroyed was so that it could be utilized as a trap. The high vantage point and deceptive sense of safety Weathertop provides makes it a highly attractive stopping point for nearly any traveler. This view shifts dramatically with the wraiths encounter the hobbits and Strider of course. Being driven back by Aragorn and failing to reclaim the ring after coming so close must have greatly angered the Witch-king. I would imagine that the night and place would haunt his memories ever after. A striking reminder of his power over men forever reduced to a eternal reminder of his failure.

Sutton Hoo and the Barrow-downs

Initially after reading through the article on the Occular Effects at Sutton Hoo, I had the impression that the barrow-downs and Sutton Hoo had very little in common in terms of their artifacts beyond the basics. Clearly both valued armor, weapons, jewels, but beyond that I struggled to see any connections. The artifacts in the Lord of the Rings aren’t anthropomorphic, zoomorphic, nor do they focus heavily on eyes. There are however, two key similarities that I noticed after thinking for a while. Firstly, the artifacts from Sutton Hoo were inspired by other cultures, and adapted their styles. This is also true for the things the hobbits find in the Barrow-downs. Many of the weapons and pieces of jewelry are inspired by other kingdoms of men and elves. Beyond that though, and perhaps more elusively, both cultures wanted to clearly be seen after their passing. The artifacts from both sites seem to place a great deal of importance on showing the strength and nobility of the owners of the artifacts. In the article, Williams says, “ this was a discourse that was constitutive of aspired identities in death” about Sutton Hoo. These aspired identities are very similar to those of the men of the Barrows, who surely aspired to be remembered as the noble defenders against the men of Angmar. I think that almost all cultures would like to be remembered, but its interesting that in both of these cases, there is such emphasis placed on “how” they will be remembered.

Barrow-downs

The hobbits’ trek through the Barrow-downs is one of a scary story come to life. We know that the hobbits new at least a little of Barrow-downs and wights from their conversation with Tom Bombadil. “Even in the shire the rumour of the Barrow-wights of the Barrow-downs beyond the Forest had been heard” (Fellowship pg. 130). Tom’s story enchants them with visions of fallen kingdoms and buried treasure, guarded by fierce entities forever bound to their hoards. They do their best to skirt the bounds of the downs, knowing that they are dangerous, but fail to realize the spot where they stopped for lunch bore a marker; a large standing stone, a warning they ignored. “It was shapeless and yet significant: like a landmark, or a guarding finger, or more like a warning” (Fellowship pg. 137). The hobbits’ rest here allowed them to begin to fall under the spell of the Barrow-wights. Suddenly, they wake up inside of a barrow, to be rescued by Tom Bombadil just in the nick of time. All of the hobbits here, but Frodo especially, likely gain a greater appreciation for the dangerous of the world and the importance of the boundaries of dangerous spaces. Suddenly the fears of the imagination have become very real, and the line is suddenly blurred between nightmare and reality.

Shifting Tides

The Lake had always been a stalwart protector. The frozen winds of winter lost their bite once they reached the shore nor could the summer sun overpower the soothing presence of the water. Outsiders were never a concern either. Those who approached the lake had a single path, one that was easily watched and guarded. The people of the Lake had grown accustomed to safety. After all, the security of the water had shielded them since time immemorial, there was no reason to think that would ever change.

Until it did.

At first the people were glad at the coming of the summer rains. A welcome respite from the heat, or so they thought. However, the rains failed to cease. What at first was an enjoyable reprieve suddenly became a constant nuisance. Fishing became perilous with the stormy waters refusing to settle. The young and old alike became ill; the constant moisture filling their breath.

Soon the supports of the village faded from sight, lost to the perpetually murky depths. The walls that were supposed to keep the water at bay were soon swallowed. It was seeming more and more likely that they would never be seen again.

As the Lake began to consume the village itself, people began to leave. No amount of hoping or waiting could save them from the anger of their once benevolent guardian. Some stayed in their homes as the water continued to rise. Leaving their homeland was a fate worse than death. Fishing was their trade. Without animals to raise or crops to plant, what hope did they have of starting anew? The Lake had always given, perhaps it was its right to take in return. Who were they to refuse.

Eventually the lake was sated. once again calm and welcoming. Those who had fled never returned. No serene shore could make them forget the sight of their home being lost. As peaceful as the water was, it still held the bones of the village in its depths. A hidden reminder of a tragic past few are left to remember.

Dangerous Spaces

Across both the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings Tolkien uses tried and true practices to convince us of the danger of Mirkwood and Cirith Ungol. Right from the start, each place is described as being dark and oppressive. “The path itself was narrow and wound in and out among the trunks. Soon the light at the gate was like a little bright hole far behind, and the quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened” (Tolkien TH, pg.130). “In a few steps they were in utter and impenetrable dark. Not since the lightless passages of Moria had Frodo or Sam known such darkness, and if possible here it was deeper and denser”. (Tolkien LOTR, pg. 717) The call back to Moria here is interesting as well, immediately implying that since Shelob’s lair is darker than Moria was, that it might be more dangerous as well, which is quite something considering Durin’s Bain.

Both of these places feel dangerous mainly due to darkness, or lack of sight. Things in our world that disrupt or invalidate our senses are are almost always considered dangerous. If you were to stumble into an old, abandoned mineshaft, you would likely immediately be concerned due to the darkness and your inability to see any potential dangers. Even places that in the day seem safe are suddenly a cause for concern in the night, which makes the sense of foreboding Tolkien inflicts in these chapters make perfect sense.

The restriction of movement also plays a key role. The inability to escape from potential threats is an immediate cause for concern in real life, which is why we avoid places such as alleys. The hobbits and dwarves being forced into claustrophobic conditions causes this same sense of discomfort.

Its interesting to think about how even though giant spiders aren’t a threat we ever face, that the situations in the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings feel real because of how they play to our primal fears and senses.

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Placemaking in Middle Earth and Earthsea - John B.