Chapter discussion - The Passage of the Marshes: Landscape

[Ataahua]

Dry reeds hissed and rattled though they could feel no wind.

Far away, now almost due South, the mountain walls of Mordor loomed, liked a black bar of rugged clouds floating above a dangerous fog-bound sea.

... evil-smelling fens.

1. What are these descriptions setting up for the reader?

2. In our world, marshlands are valuable ecosystems (being nutrient-rich places for plants and animals, natural filters of pollution, and a breeding ground for some animals). Why are the Dead Marshes the complete opposite?

3. Just out of interest, if there was no wind, what was it that caused the reeds to hiss and rattle?


The marsh-reeks lay in heavy banks. No sun pierced the low, clouded sky. ...Far above the rot and vapours the world of the Sun was riding high and golden now in a serene country with floors of dazzling foam, but only a passing ghost of her could they see below, bleared, pale, giving no colour and no warmth.

4. What does the Hobbits' separation from the Sun indicate? What does it say about the land they are in now?

5. Is there some echo here with the two worlds that the Elves inhabit at once?

* * * * *
Invisible Extra Credit:

They had come to the desolation that lay before Mordor: the lasting monument to the dark labour of its slaves that should endure when all their purposes were made void; a land defiled, diseased beyond all healing - unless the Great Sea should enter in and wash it with oblivion.

6. Consider the landscape that you live in (be it urban or rural). What does it say about you?

 

[Ufthak]

Dry reeds hissed and rattled though they could feel no wind.

Far away, now almost due South, the mountain walls of Mordor loomed, liked a black bar of rugged clouds floating above a dangerous fog-bound sea.

... evil-smelling fens.

1. What are these descriptions setting up for the reader?

The notion that the Dead Marshes themselves are dangerous. I'm surprised by the use of the word 'rugged' to describe the Black Mountains though, as that word carries neutral connotations of toughness. I'd have expected something like 'threatening', as 'threatening clouds' would indicate a storm coming in the Simile Sea.

2. In our world, marshlands are valuable ecosystems (being nutrient-rich places for plants and animals, natural filters of pollution, and a breeding ground for some animals). Why are the Dead Marshes the complete opposite?

Because Tolkien wasn't a naturalist, and viewed them largely as relatively lifeless bogs? Besides, there's virtually nowhere on our planet that isn't a valuable ecosystem, even the deserts have a surprising amount of life. In order to have such a hostile landscape in a land with a temperate climate he'd have to alter something completely, it might as well have been a marsh. Besides, this is where the Last Alliance fought, so it was either going to be a plain or something equally flat: might as well throw some water in and make the landscape itself dangerous for a little extra drama.

3. Just out of interest, if there was no wind, what was it that caused the reeds to hiss and rattle?

SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKES. SNAKES WITH MARACAS.

The marsh-reeks lay in heavy banks. No sun pierced the low, clouded sky. ...Far above the rot and vapours the world of the Sun was riding high and golden now in a serene country with floors of dazzling foam, but only a passing ghost of her could they see below, bleared, pale, giving no colour and no warmth.

4. What does the Hobbits' separation from the Sun indicate? What does it say about the land they are in now?

That they're in marshland, and due to well-understood metrological processes the ground-based cloud known as 'fog' has appeared?

5. Is there some echo here with the two worlds that the Elves inhabit at once?

Dunno about that. They're seeing less not more.

* * * * *
Invisible Extra Credit:

They had come to the desolation that lay before Mordor: the lasting monument to the dark labour of its slaves that should endure when all their purposes were made void; a land defiled, diseased beyond all healing - unless the Great Sea should enter in and wash it with oblivion.

6. Consider the landscape that you live in (be it urban or rural). What does it say about you?
[/QUOTE]

I live in the suburbs of a small-to-medium-sized British city (about 300,000 people), which is big enough to have pretty much everything I need without being huge. So I suppose you could say that I like being within easy reach of both the city's convenience and the countryside around me. Certainly I find places like London, Manchester etc simply too large.

 

[PhantomS]

[size 2]1. What are these descriptions setting up for the reader?

We ain't in Hobbiton anymore Toto! Without Aragorn or Boromir to explain this place, the Hobbits will simply have to walk through the living nightmare of Mordor and its surroundings. We've had the plains of Rohan before this, but now it's the diametric opposite. No plains till the Evil Mountain!

2. In our world, marshlands are valuable ecosystems (being nutrient-rich places for plants and animals, natural filters of pollution, and a breeding ground for some animals). Why are the Dead Marshes the complete opposite?

Tolkien wasn't someone who liked the forest scientifically, his writings on trees, forests and whatnot sound more spiritual and ethereal rather than "this tree exudes sap that is used by various insects to attract spawning mates...." (cue David Attenbrough or some other whispering nature person). The Dead Marshes are well, dead. There are few animals than there should be in a marsh- no real fish schools, no crocodiles, birds or even snakes. We've seen how evil and angry plants can get, so now the reader can't trust even the grass under their feet. Tolkien wrote how the Marshes feel to us, not what kind of good they're used for.

3. Just out of interest, if there was no wind, what was it that caused the reeds to hiss and rattle?

Orodruin is humming in the background, so a little jiggle would be nice.

The marsh-reeks lay in heavy banks. No sun pierced the low, clouded sky. ...Far above the rot and vapours the world of the Sun was riding high and golden now in a serene country with floors of dazzling foam, but only a passing ghost of her could they see below, bleared, pale, giving no colour and no warmth.

4. What does the Hobbits' separation from the Sun indicate? What does it say about the land they are in now?

Like in Lothlorien or the Old Forest time is a little skewed here, but here it's completely due to nature (albeit tampered nature) due to the sun being blocked by fog from the marsh. Hobbits in particular use clocks or a clock system to tell time, so this will disorient them somewhat.

5. Is there some echo here with the two worlds that the Elves inhabit at once?

The Elves feel more akin to the shades and things Men can't see, but this isn't something they would like very much either.

* * * * *
Invisible Extra Credit:

They had come to the desolation that lay before Mordor: the lasting monument to the dark labour of its slaves that should endure when all their purposes were made void; a land defiled, diseased beyond all healing - unless the Great Sea should enter in and wash it with oblivion.

6. Consider the landscape that you live in (be it urban or rural). What does it say about you?

It's a developing country where forest is still the majority of land area but where people live, it's usually huge settlements with identikit houses and plenty of cars. people here are more ignorant of the forest than ever before and fear things like insects and disease more than they used to.

Says nothing about me- it ain't my house!

[/size]

 

[Ataahua]

SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKES. SNAKES WITH MARACAS.

Ah, the evil.

 

[CuriousG]

1. It's not a nice place to be, and it's going to get worse.

This is a curious phrase: something solid (mountains) is being compared to things that are gaseous and liquid: "the mountain walls of Mordor loomed, liked a black bar of rugged clouds floating above a dangerous fog-bound sea."

It was in a previous posting (I forget which chapter) that someone pointed out that Tolkien likes to cover the various elements together. Here it is again, intentional or not: earth, air, sea.

2. I think he was going for the sense of decomposition in a swampland where things are dead and/or decaying. He left out the part that they can be a nice habitat for birds. But if Sauron found out he had any songbird-friendly habitats on his borders, you can be sure he'd wipe them out.

3. Good point. I'd say it was the area's malice and creepiness that made the reeds hiss and rattle.

4. No Sun: well, I guess they don't need sunblock anymore. But it means they're cut off from hope, life, warmth, just about everything good and homely that you'd find in the Shire, and this is far worse than any swamp would be in hobbit-country. Even the one near Bree was vexing but didn't have a feeling of evil to it. Or dead people in the waters, just Neekerbreekers.

5. I'm not sure I pick up on this comparison, but I'm known to be dense.

6. Mine fits me pretty well: I live in a dense old neighborhood of Boston with a large open park across the street that's close to the Mystic River, so I get the best of both the urban and rural worlds. Nothing extreme like what's described here.

The "diseased beyond healing" builds up the ongoing sense of despair. Only a cataclysm could wash Mordor clean, and the likelihood of the Great Sea crossing over the mountains is unlikely unless Eru is behind it. It seems logical that as the quest continues, Frodo will despair. Sam doesn't, however. Is that because he's illogical?

 

[squire]

Dry reeds hissed and rattled though they could feel no wind.

Far away, now almost due South, the mountain walls of Mordor loomed, like a black bar of rugged clouds floating above a dangerous fog-bound sea.

... evil-smelling fens.
1. What are these descriptions setting up for the reader?
Well, there’s a lot of atmosphere in those excerpts, although they don’t all use the same literary devices. And the atmosphere is threatening, bleak, hostile, and frightening.

2. In our world, marshlands are valuable ecosystems (being nutrient-rich places for plants and animals, natural filters of pollution, and a breeding ground for some animals). Why are the Dead Marshes the complete opposite?
I don’t agree that the Dead Marshes are the “opposite” of a valuable ecosystem. Rather, that aspect of the landscape is not what Tolkien is focusing on. If you mean, that our world “perceives” wetlands as valuable and Tolkien’s generation did not perceive them that way, you might be closer to the mark.


I am also interested in Tolkien’s comment that the Dead of the great Battle have been inundated by the rising or moving Marshes over the previous age of years – a few thousand years, in fact. I feel sure he is basing his statement on the known differentiation of the wetlands of East Anglia between medieval times and today, but I wish I understood the mechanism a bit better. Is the runoff soil from the Emyn Muil slowly filling the Marshes’ basin, so that the water level is displaced upward and onto slightly higher ground to the north? Why does the lifted water table not drain off more efficiently instead, as marshes are supposed to do in their progression towards becoming solid soil?

Where do the Marshes drain to, anyway? Tolkien’s maps show an adjacent wetland, presumably lower in elevation, in the Wetwang on Anduin, opposite to the inflow of the Entwash. But he does not draw or mention an actual hydrographic connection.

Or are they in a true basin, where evaporation balances inflow? If so, it would take a wetter climate to fill them to a greater depth in order to inundate the battlefield – why would the climate near Mordor become wetter during the Third Age?

3. Just out of interest, if there was no wind, what was it that caused the reeds to hiss and rattle?
This phenomenon is mentioned twice, both in the line you cite above,

Dry reeds hissed and rattled though they could feel no wind.​

and a little later on:

…broken grass-blades trembling in small air-movements that they could not feel.​

I have never had a problem with this; it’s eerie in effect, but not inexplicable even to the hobbits. They are small, and crouched down below the height of the grasses. The wind is blocked at their level, but not a few feet higher where the open air begins.

The marsh-reeks lay in heavy banks. No sun pierced the low, clouded sky. ...Far above the rot and vapours the world of the Sun was riding high and golden now in a serene country with floors of dazzling foam, but only a passing ghost of her could they see below, bleared, pale, giving no colour and no warmth.
4. What does the Hobbits' separation from the Sun indicate? What does it say about the land they are in now?
The separation from the sun is not total. The image is quite distinct from there being no sun at all. They see “her” through the mists, but get no benefit from her, aside from the mere light of day. We saw a similar image earlier on, in the Barrow-downs:

The sun, a pale and watery yellow, was gleaming through the mist just above the west wall of the hollow in which they lay… the fog was thick, cold and white. The air was silent, heavy and chill.​

The descriptions remind us what we know from experience: fogs and mists are creepy, even in day time. And such landscapes occur in many places in Middle-earth, not just on the borders of Mordor. It’s all about perception, not reality. To put a finer point on it, we must admit that in a way the hobbits are carrying these landscapes with them, because of the nature of their quest.


The image I find more interesting, because it strikes me as more modern than the text can sustain, is this:

Far above the rot and vapours of the world the Sun was riding high and golden now in a serene country with floors of dazzling foam​

“Floors of dazzling foam” is what clouds or mists look like from above. Now, there are in England and elsewhere high places, that are steep enough and near enough to wet low places to reveal, at times, the bright and foamy tops of vapor clouds. But we of this century are most familiar with the view down from an airplane or a very high mountain. To me this image, which the hobbits cannot possibly have witnessed, is a particularly egregious interjection by the modern narrator.

5. Is there some echo here with the two worlds that the Elves inhabit at once?
It’s a faint one: we read that Frodo perceives a “mist” between him and the world during the Flight to the Ford chapter, when he is drifting toward wraithdom due to the Morgul-wound. Gandalf later says that Frodo was becoming able to see as Elves do, “both the Seen and the Unseen”. But that mist is described as dark and unnatural, not light and grimly natural as this one is.

Invisible Extra Credit:
They had come to the desolation that lay before Mordor: the lasting monument to the dark labour of its slaves that should endure when all their purposes were made void; a land defiled, diseased beyond all healing - unless the Great Sea should enter in and wash it with oblivion.
6. Consider the landscape that you live in (be it urban or rural). What does it say about you?
I live in a suburban woodland of the Northeastern U.S.

Woods are the natural vegetation here, and any land that is cleared and then abandoned soon returns to the forest. Much of the county was farmed intensively over a century ago, but the poor glacial soils in the highlands and poor drainage in the bottoms long ago caused the farms to be abandoned, in favor of settlement further west in the Mississippi valley. So a common sight here, where the land has not been redeveloped as housing lots, is the long lines of stone fences in the midst of the trees, with gate openings and the occasional cellar hole. I often think of the lifetime’s backbreaking labor that these remains represent. I think of the grazing cattle and pigs moving from field to field, fence to fence, where my dog now races after the squirrels in the shade of tall beeches and maples, amidst brambles and dry leaf cover.

What does it say about me? Mostly that I live far enough away from the city that the town can afford to develop at a low density – single family homes on two acre lots. That leaves lots of room at the edges of properties for the trees to shade and separate us from our neighbors; and one must drive everywhere, because the distances to town and shopping are too great to walk. Without casual social interaction with near neighbors, except on the daily dog walks, I find that I most often seek out human conversation online.