The Siege of Gondor
Whoah, but this hits so differently reading it at fifty nine than it did at nine.
When I read it as a child, it was a great military action, which I modeled and remodeled in my play. One day, my uncle and I made an entire sand nation at the beach and then destroyed it “Siege of Gondor” style. Of course, the food guys won. The good guys always win.
Now, I realize it’s not a military scene at all. The defence of Gondor is a bloody rout. Faramir is left for dead, the men take 33% losses. Cair Andros falls. Rohan has not come. The southern provinces have not sent enough aid. The siege works go in like clockwork and the lower ring of the city is quickly set ablaze. Dol Amroth and Gandalf are the only sparks of hope, but they can’t be everywhere at once. The Lord of the Nazgul expects Gandalf and fully thinks he can best him, or at least drive him back to Valinor, as the Balrog did. The Dark now knows he’s far from unbeatable.
It’s a tidal wave of despair. Every plan has come to nought and even Gandalf is swearing bullets, thinking the Darl may indeed have captured The Ring.
Denethor has seem ALL of this and Sauron has shown him, probably, Bilbo’s mithril shirt. Denethor isn’t mad: he KNOWS a sexond great dark is coming.
And then a cock crows and Rohan rides out of the north.
The figure of Denethor really speaks to me now, as I look at how everything is failing and authoritarianism is advancing everywhere. I, too, want to just turn away and wait for the end. Nine year old me would have never conceived of this. I now have much, much more sympathy for Denethor: I understand what he’s going through. He’s played every card, even spent his son’s, and it didn’t delay the Dark Lord for a second. Plus, he “knows” there’s no hope.