Living in the North Country, Boundary Effects is a blog by Austin Jantzi. Though a physicist, I write mostly about books, sometimes about music, but generally about whatever I find interesting.

Théoden, Dune, and Savior Narratives

Théoden, Dune, and Savior Narratives

I want to return to an aside about King Théoden in my article about us all being wizards. The idea that “everyone is a wizard” is a theme I’ve been developing for a while and the work of Owen Barfield has helped it grow. As I've said, our perception is the interplay of both what we expect (from our ideas, beliefs, and previous experience, which I’ll call the symbolic meaning) as well as what’s actually there (which I’ll call the literal meaning). Usually, we emphasize what is actually there (and call that the ‘truth’ or ‘reality’) but increasingly, people are becoming aware of the impact of expectations on perception, and use tools to shape those expectations in ways that don’t necessarily align with ‘reality’. This comes up in both cognitive science (where brains are often referred to as ‘expectation machines’) and in political science (referred to as ‘post truth’). According to this new consciousness, the symbolic meaning of events, objects, and people may be, and often is, more important than their literal meaning. And this is why we’re all wizards. We take active roles in shaping the symbolic meaning, which, in turn, literally changes perception. With our words we can change reality. If that’s not wizardry, I don’t know what is.

A scene from the end of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Two Towers captures the essence of our current political and perceptual era, as well as being a microcosm of the larger narrative of the Lord of the Rings. After narrowly winning (with the help of a lot of trees) a battle against the wizard Saruman’s forces, Théoden marches on Saruman’s citadel at Isengard. Gandalf, the White Wizard, is deeply apprehensive about this encounter. Gandalf knows better than anyone that Saruman’s true power resides not in the strength of his arms, but in the power of his Voice. Théoden may be a king, but he’s just a man. Like all men, Théoden is strong and weak, noble and corruptible. It has not been long since Théoden was freed from Saruman’s Voice, and Gandalf fears that the wizard’s words will undo all that they had achieved. The way to confront a wizard is not with mere words, but with greater power or violence. You cannot bandy words with wizards and come away unscathed. 

This is exactly how we treat politics. We don’t (usually) consider politicians to be wizards, but we approach them like Saruman. Dangerous Voices cannot be allowed to speak. All politicians have a Voice (which we call a Platform) and the way to defeat other politicians is either to remove their Voice or increasingly with threats of violence. However in the Two Towers, Gandalf is wrong about Théoden. In this scene, Théoden shows his true heroism. Despite his weakness, Théoden hears Saruman’s Voice and does not give in. He calls Saruman a liar and declares that his “voice has lost its charm.” Théoden rejects the flawed notion that wizards can shape reality with their words. Even though I treat it pretty seriously because I think it has explanatory use, when I first thought of the idea that “everyone is a wizard” I wanted it to be absurd. Obviously, we’re not wizards in the way that Saruman or Gandalf are (I, for one, cannot shoot heavenly beams of light at Nazgul). The literal meaning of an object doesn’t truly change when our perceptions change. Perception and reality are not the same, as the plot of every single Jane Austen book reminds us. Théoden is heroic because he refuses to believe that power is the only operating force in the world; power alone does not govern existence. While Théoden can see this, Saruman cannot. When Saruman sees from afar the overwhelming power of Sauron, he believes he has no choice but to join the Dark Lord. Théoden, on the other hand, knows that Saruman, even in his defeated state, is more powerful than he is, yet he has the courage to hold to what is true. Likewise in the Return of the King, Théoden knows that when he musters the Rohirrim, he rides against the superior power of Mordor and to his likely death. Yet, Théoden rides anyway, shouting down the power of evil and death, because he sees that there is good in the world, and he has the courage to fight for it. And though Théoden dies, he does not give into the lie that power is the ultimate goal or that might makes right.

I think this provides an interesting contrast to the novel Dune, by Frank Herbert. I have read that Frank Herbet is skeptical of savior narratives, where one man gains more and more power and is able to wield that power to save his people, and that this skepticism is more explicit in the subsequent Dune novels. However, Dune itself is one of the quintessential savior narratives. Paul, the young protagonist, is able to narrowly escape the doom of his father and House. On the run, he gathers ‘desert power’ through the support of the local population, the Fremen, as well as honing his ‘weirding’ powers. This includes the Voice through which he is able to compel people to do his will. Having mustered an unstoppable force, Paul is able to overthrow the House that killed his father, lead a galactic war of conquest, and bring the emperor himself to heel, eventually becoming the God-Emperor. Paul’s story is much more like Saruman’s dream of global domination than Théoden’s rejection of the power of Saruman’s Voice.

Rejection of the temptation to wield power is the critical heroic action of the characters in the Lord of the Rings. The Ring, the great weapon of the Enemy, falls into the hands of the free peoples of Middle Earth. The temptation is to use that same weapon for good. When offered the Ring, Gandalf states he would use the power from an intent to do good, but the act of wielding the power of the Ring would turn him into a figure as fallen as Sauron. Galadriel makes the same refusal when Frodo offers her the Ring. Aragorn refuses at Amon Hen. Faramir, too, rejects the power of the Ring, defying the orders of his father Denethor. Again and again, the heroes of the Lord of the Rings are offered nearly unlimited power to achieve their goals, but they are able to recognize the danger of matching power with greater power. They see that might does not make right, and they commit to what is truly right, even when they can’t see a way that goodness and right can ever succeed.

In this way, the structure of the Lord of the Rings is much more skeptical of savior stories than Dune. It is not through one man gaining power, but many men and women refusing to claim power that evil is ultimately defeated. And in this way the Lord of the Rings is more like the archetypal savior narrative: Jesus. Jesus is very skeptical of a savior story like Dune’s and time and time again he refuses to take up the power that is offered him. After feeding the five thousand, Jesus flees because he can see that the people will try to make him their king. He refuses to wield power and teaches his disciples that his Kingdom is of a different type, “You know that the rulers of the Nations lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you.” In the desert, Satan offers Jesus all of the kingdoms of the world, and Jesus refuses to rule them. And when he stands trial before Pilate, about to be condemned to death, Jesus and his followers do not fight. He reiterates that his Kingdom is not like Paul's empire or the Roman empire, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.” Jesus does not lead a war of conquest. Instead, he offers his followers peace that the world cannot give. And when Jesus is killed, by a miraculous validation of all Jesus did and taught, God raised him from the dead, assuring us that even when all the light is lost, the world can still be redeemed. 

I, like Théoden, can’t always see how the good can win. So often, what is right falls to those who have power, strength, and prestige. Yet Théoden maintains a wild hope that despite the might of Sauron, the good will prevail if he has the courage to raise his banner and stand against lies, evil, and death. And he rides out, and fights, and dies, but his hope is not in vain. Goodness, by the refusal to power of Gandalf, Galadriel, Aragorn, Faramir, Sam, Frodo, and in the end a miracle, prevails. And the kingdom that comes is not one of military prowess and global domination, but the Shire, home of the simple hobbits, content with life and full of peace. Having the hope and courage of Théoden to face the superior might of Saruman requires me to trust the promises of God, that he is with the lowly, the poor, the hungry, and weak and that He will be their refuge, salvation, comfort, peace, and joy. This is a reality that’s hard to see and often hard to trust, but ultimately I believe; help my unbelief.

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