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NF-Lee's Gildor and Frodo

A Life Remembered ~ last Grey Haven caps and jan-u-wine's "A Sailor's Quest"....

Posted on 2006.09.24 at 22:00
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A Life Remembered ~ last of the Grey Havens screencaps, and jan-u-wine’s, A Sailor’s Quest....


~*~


I really have no special thing to say for this entry. I merely wanted to present this long narrative poem by jan-u-wine I read a few weeks ago that I thought made a fine “Summa” of Frodo’s life from his perspective.

It opens with Frodo home from the Quest. The "Year of Great Plenty" has passed; golden-haired children such as the Shire has never seen have come into the world. It's autumn, the time of the turning of the year and the taking of journeys.

The poem offers a visionary sort of retrospective: as if Frodo, having finished the Red Book is looking back, just free-associating, watching images from his life pass before him like leaves upon the surface of the Brandywine. Leaves that are little vignettes, carefully selected from his childhood, growing-up years, the coming to him of the Ring, and significant portions of the Quest.


For illustrations, I thought the very end of the poem was set off well by the handful of caps remaining from the Grey Havens scene.

The sequence below comes right after Frodo has embraced Sam and given his kiss of blessing. The score shifts from the poignant farewell music (sustained strings over the Shire theme) to what I think of as the “Sea Music”: oboes like gull cries and mournful sailor’s pipes play spare little signatures above lower, slowly rocking chords (open fourths?), droning in the choral voices, moving back and forth like the water under the boat rocking gently at anchor.

It is just as Frodo turns that the music shifts, subliminally signaling the turning of Frodo’s focus from his friends and home to the Sea. He turns from Sam, and, as he advances towards the ship, drawing closer and closer to the camera, the Sea Music calling more and more strongly, his face becomes subtly transformed, as if he can hear in the gulls’ cries and the sea’s lisp against the quay the whispering of the West. As he moves, in the slight slow-motion the filmmakers chose, he seems to float, rising and falling as he moves toward the gang plank, as if he were already on the Sea.

That turn away from Sam towards the Sea, accompanied by the shift from the Shire theme to the Sea Music raises gooseflesh under my hair and down my back every time.

In a way, for me it’s the preparation for the burst of tears that comes when Frodo boards the boat and smiles his smile. The Sea Music draws from me a response of such depth and power, it, perhaps even more than the visuals, persuades me of the inevitably of Frodo’s sailing. How could he resist such a call? I could not.





~*~





~ Frodo turns from Sam and moves towards the Sea; RotK, full-screen theatrical version:











































A Sailor’s Quest

~ by jan-u-wine


There is
a new chain
about my neck.

(the other was

broken,
you know).

Hope holds to it,
enfolds what lies
there,
like the enveloping
hand
of the night sky
cradles the lonely
stars.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I stand beneath
homely trees,
solemn in their autumn-gold
cloaks,

and touch the promise
hidden
at my throat.


The Quest
opens
before me,
as if
it were a parchment,
and the World
a table
large enough to hold
it entire.

I see them…..

see them all…

changed…

unchanged,

memory filtering
like gentled sunlight
in my mind
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I see a Spring
when the World was new,
and the stars sang only
to themselves in its dawn.

I see an eye,
an eye -
red,
furious
with fire,
graze
field
and Home
and sky.

I see the glint of gold
falling….

falling
beneath quieting
water.

I see summer
carving
its heavy heat
upon the river,
and
hands
embracing
waiting evil.

I feel a heart-beat
flicker

and end.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I see another summer:

a night,
shimmer'd
with stars,
fire-flies like the Netted Jewels
themselves,
lying upon the still
green-gold of the river.

I see the blunt
prow
of the boat,

floating,
wrong-side up.

I see her hand,

caught
by the waxen lilies
upon the shore.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I see the Hill at Harvest:

fields, gold and orange
and earth-ribbon-brown
beneath a Sun bound for Winter.

I see the Party Tree
and the fireworks,

smelling of powder and night,
flushing sudden day across
a blackened sky.

I see…..

Evil,

lying innocent and silent
at my feet.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

More harvests,

more

Springs
of gentle green,
more spent Summers,
more Winters passed within
sheltering walls.

And voices….

voices
growing,
whispering,

beckoning

in my mind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I see casements,
flung open to the dark
and an Eastern wind.

I see gold
nesting
within the fingers
of the flame.

I see flight,
and feel the the rush
of sweet grass
springing wet against my legs
as we pass.

I see a troubled traveler in grey
turning to meet the Storm.

I see my cousins,
laughing bold
and careless,

care-free,
within the fields of Home.

I see embodied
Evil,
like the silencing of Light,
bending
even mute creatures to its will…

standing,
like a sentinel of Night
against the shrouded hill……


following me…….

ever
following me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I see the Inn.

And a Man.

A dark and dangerous Man,
silent,
a pipe's red glow held
betwixt tightening fingers.

Cries.

Voices upon the throat of the night….

voices
from
the throat of the night.

Not for the last time,

I see marshes,
creeping, stilled marshes,
filled with death,
limned in shadowed white.

I see the spill of rock
where once dwelt
Light.

I hear the lilt of Pip's
small voice.

I see a form without face,
ragged garments flowing against
the tide of the night,

I feel the ice of his hate,
the heat of his malice
before even the blade touches me,
sends me to dreams of dread and desire.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I see Light and an autumn caught
ceaseless
in a stilled current of Time.

I see a circle of the great and small.

I see a choice.

My heart slows,
stills
within me:



I see

no

choice.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I see the pour'd gold
of dying day
as we cross the bridge,

see the Light
turn to somewhat
else
as the valley becomes
as memory behind us.

I see the proud, bitter head
of the snow-held mountain….

and doors bound by silver runes
standing open to the lemon moon.

I see black shadow laid upon ever-darker dreams,
night,
endless,

timeless,
dealt out within chill caverns of stone.

I see fire -
ancient,
unbanked,
undying
fire.

I see

a bottomless chasm -
a broken span

and you

falling
to unplumbed death.

I cannot see more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Time
resonates

here.

It slows and stops and starts anew
like the errant flutter of the golden leaves,
singing with each breath of what must
pass, in this land beyond dreams,

as wind.

And yet…..

and yet,
still,

I see.

I understand, at last,
I must see.

I see the Lady.

There is a star
upon her pale finger.

A Ring,
such as mine.

She will not,
can not
take this evil from me.

I see what must,
what will
be.

Even,
I hear her voice,
soft Elven words
running like silk threads
inside my mind.

Threads of silver air,
drawn from shores made distant by time….

I see her lips do not move
when she speaks to me thus,
nor mine, in answer.

I see a morning kept close in gold-grey fog,
and feel her lips in blessing upon my brow.

I see we may no longer stay here,

no longer
linger
where time does not flow outward
to meet its ending.

My hand finds her parting gift,
folds it against the tight beat of my heart.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I see the mighty river of Kings.

Like a highway it is,
running broad and blue
beneath a sun-swept sky.

I see fear.

Fear in the face of my King.

Fear of him….
fear for him.

My thoughts run like clear water:

I see what I must do.

The boat, fretting on its line,
and the swift-run of the river
lie before me.

I see a lonely way,
and a Road
that I shall travel,
unseen.

I see the eastern bank
sliding close before me.

I see….

No.

I see Sam.

But he

sees only
a boat,

not
drifting,
as it should,
downstream.

I see I am not
invisible

to my Sam.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

How dark it is upon this shore.

It is darkness hardened,
driven by a world
which might never have known Light.

Here, I can not see.

And the Voices…..


the Voices born
of this small golden circle,

they rise.

They….
speak
to me.

And I see.

I see a Man,
pinned by arrows,
dying in shadowed Sun.

I see great battles,
and the dead clamouring
within the realms of the living.

I see madness,

terror,
and a Lord I do not know
pulling his House down about
him in fire and despair.

I see my cousins.

They are young no more,
but frightened yet.

I smell blood and fire

and

death.

I see Merry fall.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam is helping me stand.

It must not be much further,
now….

it must not be,

for the food and the water are gone,

as soon we shall be.

I really cannot see any longer,
Sam,

nor remember why it is that I hurt so,
nor why these strange clothes cover me.

I do not remember why I should struggle more…..
only that I must.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Pain,
bright as sunlight.

I see…..

my own finger,
bone glistening white
against petal-sprayed blood.

I see
him.

My heart beats in my ears.

I see It.

Desire.
Fear.
Hatred.
Love.

Before even my mind can form thought,
he has gone.

And taken something I can never name,
(at least, not as he did),
with him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
And now,

I see again.

and I remember all those simple things
that led me to this place.

My hand does not hurt any longer,
and the fire that swirls red about us
puts me in mind of the strawberries
you spoke of, Sam.

not that I am hungry, mind you.

I should just have liked to have seen them.

and the fields, pearl'd with barley.

I should have liked to have seen them, too.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was a very long journey,
there

and back again.

A very long journey.

But now,
at last,
I am Home.

And all the little rivers still run,
swiftly,
as if naught had e'er changed…

and the fields ripen in summer
and fall to silence in the depths of winter.

And the children.

Golden-haired and Elven-lithe.

The Shire has never seen such children.

I see them.

I see the Shire.

But mostly,

I see,
in the grey-rough bark of the tree,
in the endless blue of the sky,

in the green-gilt call of the river….

mostly I see

her.

At the beginning and the end of the parchment which is my life,
she waits.


The Sea.




~*~





Jan-u-wine's Lord of the Rings-based poetry may be found at LotR Scrapbook.

Previous entry (“Frodo Waits for Sam Across the Sea” ~ Anduin caps, jan-u-wine’s “Soon” ) HERE.

Listing of all Frodo Screencap entries HERE.



~ Mechtild

Comments:


sams_star
sams_star at 2006-09-25 03:42 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you so much for the last several posts of screencaps and your insightful commentary--I've really enjoyed them all!
Mechtild
mechtild at 2006-09-25 05:21 (UTC) (Link)
You are welcome, Sam Star!
aredhelebenesse
aredhelebenesse at 2006-09-25 10:51 (UTC) (Link)
OMG! That's the most sad and touching part of the book. I must always cry when I read it and also when I see these pictures or hear the music of the film. And now you shared this poem with us!
I read it this morning before I went to work, which was wrong as I know now. It's adorable but it's also incredibly touching and sad!
Thank you so much for sharing these lines with us, dear! I don't know what else to write now. I'm just too touched.
Mechtild
mechtild at 2006-09-25 13:38 (UTC) (Link)
Oh, Aredhelebenesse, I'm so glad you got to see the caps and read the poem. I was afraid few would read it. Because of the way Jan-u-wine formats her poems (which is integral to the way they scan), althought they really don't have that many words, they look really long. And, to read them with appreciation, they do take a little time, since pauses and breaths are so important to the way they "read". I think it's a touching poem, too. The first time I read it, for some reason I was quite unprepared for the end, when, after following the Shire to the river, Frodo sees "her". Who is "her"? I remember wondering for the split second it took me to read, "the Sea." Whaaaaaah!
aredhelebenesse
aredhelebenesse at 2006-09-26 19:50 (UTC) (Link)
Yes, the end was amazing, wasn't it? This poem is perfect with all the breaks and the single words. It's right what gives the special mood in it, what makes it so touching and let us see Frodo's confusion. His thoughts and his longing for his home and all the little things he learned to love after he came back home and he survived this quest. But most of all his longing for her! Poor sad Hobbit!
He's obsessed with this thought, but as soon as he's gone he has another wish! I see it come as it is ...
(Deleted comment)
Mechtild
mechtild at 2006-09-25 14:56 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you, Mews. You are generous in your comments. I do think the music for Lord of the Rings was not only superb as music, but the most impressive scoring I've ever seen (heard?).

I thought it was just good fortune that the music fit the scenes so well, but in the music portion of the Extras - for The Two Towers, I believe -- there was footage and interview with Shore and Jackson. Not in every scene, but in important ones, they worked together to fine-tune the scoring so that it supported a scene almost from one expression to the next. The example they showed was PJ and Howard going through the reaction shots of Frodo and Gollum to Sam doing his "U.N. Speech" at the end in Osgiliath. Pete talked Howard through what he wanted in terms of shifts in tone, since he's not a musician; what he wanted emphasized, what he wanted tone-done -- it was amazing to me to think what went into the scoring of these films.

I don't know if the scoring work will ever be equalled. I doubt that Shore will ever do finer work, since he is unlikely to ever work on a similarly juicy and challenging project. One of my big pleasures during all of this was to see him conduct the LotR Symphony in Pittsburgh. It was an excellent performance. I was worried I would be disappointed. I wasn't. We were very close, in the fifth row. He was wonderful to watch.
Summer aka Summershobbit
summershobbit at 2006-09-25 16:43 (UTC) (Link)
That ending always makes me cry. No matter how many times I see it.
Mechtild
mechtild at 2006-09-25 19:27 (UTC) (Link)
And all of the rest of us! :)
taerie
taerie at 2006-09-26 00:53 (UTC) (Link)
That was really lovely. Both the poem and the caps of Frodo. I am in awe.
Mechtild
mechtild at 2006-09-26 01:29 (UTC) (Link)
Wow, I'm so glad you got your computer back!

Your pic is framed and on my wall, you know. It's so BEEEEEYOOOTIFUL!
Estë   (or ST for short)
este_tangletoes at 2006-10-02 09:22 (UTC) (Link)
I love this essay of yours Mechtild - both moving and informative. I enjoy reading about music, not only listening to it. I have never noticed the slight slow motion sequence before. Even without watching that scene anew I know exactly what you mean. It goes without saying that I love the screen-caps.

Jan-u-wine's poetry - WOW! It pulsates - it has a life of its own. It is so beautiful.

I read it through at a slow pace, absorbed it as it absorbed me, enjoyed it immensely. I felt as if I was drowning and my favourite book was flashing before my eyes. I can hardly wait until I can read it again.

It is difficult to pick out favourite verses because the whole piece is brilliant.

I feel the ice of his hate,
the heat of his malice
before even the blade touches me,
sends me to dreams of dread and desire.


This gave me a sense of great fear.

Time
resonates

here.

It slows and stops and starts anew
like the errant flutter of the golden leaves,
singing with each breath of what must
pass, in this land beyond dreams,

as wind.

And yet…..

and yet,
still,

I see.


I love the images this conjures up.

And the last verse - sigh!




Mechtild
mechtild at 2006-10-02 12:42 (UTC) (Link)
Beautiful, thoughtful comments, Este. If you were the only poetry reader in the world, writers would find you worth writing for. *pets you*
Mariole
mariole at 2006-10-05 17:12 (UTC) (Link)
What I like about Frodo's expression as he walks away is that he looks almost mesmerized. It's like he's a spirit, being pulled to another sure.
Mechtild
mechtild at 2006-10-05 20:29 (UTC) (Link)
Yes, mesmerized; called; enchanted. All of those. The Sea will do that. Not to mention Howard Shore's sound track. :)
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