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NF-Lee's Gildor and Frodo

The Houses of Healing Pt. 1: Frodo wakes ~ jan-u-wine’s “Naught to be Forgiven”.

Posted on 2007.10.31 at 00:46
Tags: , ,
~*~


I love the moment when Frodo wakes up in the Houses of Healing. I love the conceit of letting his face in the eagles scene "turn into" the face in Minas Tirith, and the way the scene is bathed in white light. ~Frodo's face, illuminated, looks beatified. (Proofing this post, Jan-u-wine observed that the arch-shaped piece of trim in the headboard resembles a halo, further adding to the iconic effect.) ~I love the laughing exchange with Gandalf, whose laugh brings to life the laugh Sam hears in the book. And I love the smiling exchange between Frodo and Sam (to appear in Pt. 2), which implies so well the depth of understanding that has developed between the two, an understanding forged by shared, life-altering experience. There are no lines, but no lines are needed. I don't mind at all that the order is reversed, with Frodo waking after Sam, rather than before.

The Jumping Cousins are another matter. Although I think the moment is rather cute, Merry and Pippin (hadn't they grown up by then?) jumping blithely on the bed of the newly-wakened-from-near-death invalid is not a choice I would have made, were I writing a scene to take the place of the book's superb, but longer sequence in "The Field of Cormallen".

I was deeply gratified, therefore, to find poems by jan-u-wine that I had not posted previously, which are written to illuminate the Cormallen chapter. The poem for this entry is Naught to be Forgiven. It is a poetic "gap-filler", actually, depicting Frodo's waking, a moment not portrayed in the book (which only shows Sam waking). Because it imagines Frodo's waking according to the book scene, rather than the film's, I have posted it after the book excerpt, which appears after the screencaps.




~*~



Film scene:


The image of his sleeping face emerging out of the last frames of him being carried by the eagle, Frodo is shown waking up in an unfamiliar place, bathed in soft white light. It is not a tent (as if on the Field of Cormallen), but apparently a room in the Houses of Healing. His gown, the bandage on his wounded hand, the linens on the bed—all pristine—glow with the same light.

Frodo: Gandalf…?

Gandalf laughs, as does Frodo. The cousins enter and leap upon the bed, embracing Frodo. Although Frodo and the cousins are speaking, the sound of their talk is almost inaudible, the music taking the lead in setting the scene’s emotional tone.

Merry: Frodo!

Frodo: Gimli! Aragorn!

The rest make their entrances in turn, coming to stand by the bed, smiling as they watch the hobbits cavort. Last comes Sam, wearing the same sort of gown as Frodo. He does not enter, but smiles from the doorway. Frodo sees him and they exchange smiles that seem to speak over what must be the noise in the room, as the visitors speak and the cousins bounce and chatter.


~*~



































































































































































~*~







Book scene, from The Field of Cormallen:

When Sam awoke, he found he was lying on some soft bed, but over him gently swayed wide beechen boughs, and through their young leaves sunlight glimmered, green and gold. All the air was full of a sweet mingled scent.

He remembered that smell: the fragrance of Ithilien. ‘Bless me!’ he mused. ‘How long have I been asleep?’ For the scent had borne him back to the day when he had lit his little fire under the sunny bank; and for the moment all else between was out of waking memory. He stretched and drew a deep breath. ‘Why, what a dream I’ve had!’ he muttered. ‘I am glad to wake!’ He sat up and then he saw Frodo was lying beside him, and slept peacefully, one hand behind his head, and the other resting upon the coverlet. It was the right hand, and the third finger was missing.

Full memory flooded back, and Sam cried aloud: ‘It wasn’t a dream! Then where are we?’

And a voice spoke softly behind him: ‘In the land of Ithilien, and in the keeping of the King; and he awaits you.’ With that Gandalf stood before him, robed in white, his beard now gleaming like pure snow in the twinkling of the leafy sunlight. ‘Well, Master Samwise, how do you feel?’ he said.

‘But Sam lay back, and stared with open mouth, and for a moment, between bewilderment and great joy, he could not answer. At last he gasped: ‘Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?’

‘A great Shadow has departed,’ said Gandalf, and then he laughed, and the sound was like music, or like water in a parched land; and as he listened the thought came to Sam that he had not heard laughter, the pure sound of merriment, for days upon days without count. It fell upon his ears like the echo of all the hours he had ever known. But he himself burst into tears. Then, as a sweet rain will pass down a wind of spring and the sun will shine out the clearer, his tears ceased, and his laughter welled up, and laughing he sprang from his bed.

‘How do I feel?’ he cried. ‘Well, I don’t know how to say it. I feel, I feel’—he waved his arms in the air—‘I feel like spring after winter, and sun on the leaves; and like trumpets and harps and all the song I have ever heard!’ He stopped and he turned towards his master. ‘But how’s Mr. Frodo?’ he said. ‘Isn’t it a shame about his poor hand? But I hope he’s alright otherwise. He’s had a cruel time.’

‘Yes, I am alright otherwise, said Frodo, sitting up and laughing in his turn. ‘I fell asleep again waiting for you, Sam, you sleepy-head. I was awake early this morning, and now it must be nearly noon.’

‘Noon?’ said Sam, trying to calculate. ‘Noon of what day?’

‘The fourteenth day of the New Year,’ said Gandalf; ‘or if you like, the eighth day of April in the Shire reckoning. But in Gondor the New Year will always now begin upon the twenty-fifth of March when Sauron fell, and when you were brought out of the fire to the King. He has tended you, and now he awaits you. You shall eat and drink with him. When you are ready I will lead you to him.’

‘The King?’ said Sam. ‘What king, and who is he?’

‘The King of Gondor and Lord of the Western Lands,’ said Gandalf; ‘and he has taken back all his ancient realm. He will ride soon to his crowing, but he waits for you.’

‘What shall we wear?’ said Sam; for all he could see was the old and tattered clothes that they had journeyed in, lying folded on the ground beside their beds.

‘The clothes that you wore on your way to Mordor,’ said Gandalf. ‘Even the orc-rags that you bore in the black land, Frodo, shall be preserved. No silks and linens, nor any armour or heraldry could be more honourable. But later I will find some other clothes, perhaps.’

Then he held out his hands to them, and they saw that one shone with light. ‘What have you got there?’ Frodo cried. ‘Can it be—?’

‘Yes, I have brought your two treasures. They were found on Sam when you were rescued; the Lady Galadriel’s gifts: your glass, Frodo; and your box, Sam. You will be glad to have these safe again.’


[…the reception of Frodo and Sam by the King on the seats of turves…]


And at the last, as the Sun fell from the noon and the shadows of the trees lengthened, he ended. ‘Praise them with great praise!’ he said and knelt. And then Aragorn stood up, and all the host arose, and they passed to pavilions made ready, to eat and drink and make merry while the day lasted.

Frodo and Sam were led apart and brought to a tent, and there their old raiment was taken off, but folded and set aside with honour; and clean linen was given to them. Then Gandalf came and in his arms, to the wonder of Frodo, he bore the sword and the elven-cloak and the mithril-coat that had been taken from him in Mordor. For Sam he brought a coat of gilded mail, and his elven-cloak all healed of all the soils and hurts that it had suffered; and then he laid before them two swords.

‘I do not wish for any sword,’ said Frodo.

‘Tonight at least you should wear one,’ said Gandalf.

Then Frodo took the small sword that had belonged to Sam, and had been laid at his side in Cirith Ungol. ‘Sting I give to you Sam,’ he said.

‘No, master! Mr. Bilbo gave it to you, and it goes with his silver coat; he would not wish anyone else to wear it now.’

Frodo gave way; and Gandalf, as if he were their esquire, knelt and girt the sword-belts about them, and then rising he set circlets of silver upon their heads. And when they were arrayed they went to the great feast; and they sat at the King’s table with Gandalf, and King Éomer of Rohan, and Prince Imrahil and all the chief captains; and there also were Gimli and Legolas.

But when, after the Standing Silence, wine was brought there came in two esquires to serve the kings; or so they seemed to be: one was clad in the silver and sable of the Guards of Minas Tirith, and the other in white and green. But Sam wondered what such young boys were doing in an army of mighty men. Then suddenly as they drew near and he could see them plainly, he exclaimed:

‘Why, look Mr. Frodo! Look here! Well, if it isn’t Pippin. Mr. Peregrin Took I should say, and Mr. Merry! How they’ve grown! Bless me! But I can see there’s more tales to tell than ours.’

‘There are indeed,’ said Pippin turning towards him. ‘And we’ll begin telling them, as soon as this feast is ended. In the meantime you can try Gandalf. He’s not so close as he used to be, though he laughs now more than he talks. For the present Merry and I are busy. We are knights of the City and of the Mark, as I hope you observe.’



~*~




Naught To Be Forgiven

~ by jan-u-wine


'Frodo'

the gentl'd spill
of his voice

slices,

imagined
sunlight,
through the edges
of my dremes....

drifted dremes
of Shadow

and Light,
red-hazed fire,

green-curved leaves...

I remember
this voice.

This voice,
an age ago,
asked me,
in just this
quiet tone,

how my shoulder
might be.

This voice
told me
to trust
to myself.

This voice

bade me
flee.

And so I did.

And so I do.

At the roughened
edges
of my sleep,
where fire
waits
and weights my eyes,
I know it cannot
be he
who says my name
as if
it were
the only word

left
to an echoing
world.

It cannot be.

I do not wish
to wake
and find that
only emptiness
has called me back.

In my mind,
I seek
the Sea,
hold
to its slow-cadenced
music,

smoothing its waves
like a soothing hand
over the corners
of my fear.

No matter
that I do not
desire
any longer
the world
that will greet
my opening
eyes:

light and sound
are before me,
pulling me forward
to where
dreme meets waking.

The unspoilt sky....

a shock of wide,
fierce blue,

marbled
by gentle clouds,
holds me silent.

I feel my heart
beating
in my throat.

A form,
sparking brilliance,
like the snow of long-ago
Caradharas,
stands sentinel
against the sky,

against the poured gold
of the Sun.

It is true.

We are both here:
both

alive.

I cannot speak
for the tears
tightening my throat.

I am no longer
a simple Hobbit,
nor he a wizard
of the second degree.

My mind fills
with all the Ages
of Light and Shadow
he has known,

all the little joys,
all the wearing despair.

In truth, I see there was
no other way.

He takes my hand.

It hurts, still.

It desires,
still.

After all his long years,
after all his wise eyes
have seen,

he can still cry.

He is saying
he is sorry.

I turn my head away.

I have forced myself
(and been forced)
to bear much.

This
oh, this
I cannot bear:

the still body
a mere breath,

a step
from mine,

ragged hands....

feet bound by red-tinged
linen.

My eyes take account
of every hurt,

every breath that
struggles
there.

He knew.

From the beginning,
he knew the end
of this Road.

Like poison,
anger rises
and shakes me.

Bitter knowledge
joins it.

What else,
who else,
was there?

We are here,
we are alive.

It is wondrous
Spring.

Our hurts will heal.

I turn and meet his eyes.

They are an old man's eyes,
soft with begging sorrow.

Just for this little moment, out of all time,
I must be the wise one.

I make my mouth smile, and take his hand
in return.

It seems strange to stand again,
to breathe air

minted with Spring,
to

accept his embrace,
as if I were yet
a child of the Shire.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


When he has gone,
blinding whiteness
bleeding into
the sunlight beyond
the canopy,
I am happy
to sit by your side,
quiet
upon the dead whisper
of grass that covers the ground.

Maybe
I will sleep a bit,
my head at rest upon the arm
that held me safe through many
a dark hour.

Maybe
you
will forgive me
when you wake.

Maybe
you
will help me see
there is nothing
to forgive.





~*~







Recent entries:


~ The Houses of Healing Pt. 1: Frodo wakes, plus jan-u-wine’s “Naught to Be Forgiven”.

~ The Houses of Healing Pt. 2: Frodo sees Sam, plus jan-u-wine’s “Harthad Uluithiad” and “Bronwe Athan Harthad”.




Other Tables of Links:


~ Entries with jan-u-wine's poems.

~ Frodo & Elijah Wood screencap entries



~ Mechtild

Comments:


Shirebound
shirebound at 2007-10-31 11:46 (UTC) (Link)
Fascinating choices were made in the lighting and filming of that scene. And ohhh, that look between Frodo and Sam! I'm still enchanted by it.
Mechtild
mechtild at 2007-11-01 01:04 (UTC) (Link)
You will like the next post even better, since "the look" is featured in it. :)
(Deleted comment)
Mechtild
mechtild at 2007-11-01 01:05 (UTC) (Link)
I am sure you are right, Mews. It was meant to express their happiness. But.... The rest of the scene is exquisite. Thanks for commenting!
Map-Maker, Lighthouse-Keeper
marinshellstone at 2007-10-31 17:24 (UTC) (Link)
love this scene. LOVE LOVE LOVE it. That look on Gandalf's face in the first frame - what is it? And then the minute changes in his face turning into laughter.

As a composer, the music in this cue is incredibly dear to me. Howard Shore really knew what he was doing in driving the emotional impact home, combining with the images we're seeing in that sort of pseudo-slow motion.

Jan-u-wine is amazing. I want to add her!!!

Thank you again, I may not have been commenting but I have been thoroughly enjoying all of these posts and intend to go back through and comment soon.
Mechtild
mechtild at 2007-11-01 05:08 (UTC) (Link)
Hadara, I so agree with you on Howard Shore's work for this scene.

Howard Shore really knew what he was doing in driving the emotional impact home

He was a master at this in these films, a master.

Thanks for commenting!
telstar109
telstar_gold at 2007-11-01 10:42 (UTC) (Link)
Mechtild, I have just discovered your LJ (via Mews's rec), & I am just blown away by your glorious screencaps, jan-u-wine's lovely poems, & the very perceptive discussions that arise from them. Can I friend you, so as to be sure not to miss anything? Especially when you do "that look" between Sam & Frodo, which is probably my favourite moment from the whole trilogy.
Mechtild
mechtild at 2007-11-01 13:22 (UTC) (Link)
You may certainly friend this journal, Telstar, although this project is nearly finished, so you might as easily bookmark the main screencap table of links, and it would accomplish the same thing. I update the links list right after I post.

Thank you for commenting!
nearly finished - (Anonymous) Expand
pearlette
pearlette at 2007-11-01 11:42 (UTC) (Link)
Film observations
This is such a lovely scene, and it also mirrors the scene in which Frodo wakes up in Rivendell. :)

I love how they showed Frodo waking up rather than Sam. Not because I don't love Sam, but because in the book Tolkien has already shifted to a Sam-centric POV in the narrative, as Frodo becomes more distant and withdraws from the reader.

I don't mind the bouncing hobbit-boys. Tolkien often portrays the hobbits as somewhat childlike too.

I do find Gandalf's laughter rather cheesy (I feel the same way about his first scene with Frodo in FotR!) But I love his first, enigmatic, rather sorrowful expression when we first see him. Yes, he knows exactly what Frodo has been through.

Although I'm not a F/S slasher, I have to say that Sam's dreamy look at Frodo is incredibly slashy! Or, at least, it gives the F/S shippers much to indulge themselves with, heh. Of course, it can be read either way: as a beautiful friendship or as something more. Whatever. Who cares? It's lovely. I look forward to your next screencaps post. :)

Jan's poem
So incredibly evocative, as always, and such crisply delicate imagery. I love how she portrays the conflicted emotions here. It's good to see Gandalf filled with remorse for what Frodo has been through. It's also really refreshing to see Frodo struggling with some anger about it - I should think so too! But he, always innately wise, has grown VERY wise. And he truly sees that there was no other way.


My mind fills
with all the Ages
of Light and Shadow
he has known,

all the little joys,
all the wearing despair.

In truth, I see there was
no other way.


Beautiful. :)

In any case, I look on the Gandalf-Frodo relationship with a far kinder eye since the advent of 'Deathly Hallows'. :p
Mechtild
mechtild at 2007-11-02 02:26 (UTC) (Link)
Hi, Pearl! Sorry I'm late responding. I was trying to get Pt. 2 done this morning, then it was off to work and then to sing for All Saint's after that.

I'm so glad you enjoyed "Naught to Be Forgiven". I often thought about it, having read it months ago, reading your HP discussions. It gives a deep reading of the relationship between the two, the nature of sacrificial service-asking it and acquiescing to it both.

You thought the laugh cheesy? I did find it wonderful, I confess. I always thought of the line quoted above, from Sam's POV:

‘A great Shadow has departed,’ said Gandalf, and then he laughed, and the sound was like music, or like water in a parched land; and as he listened the thought came to Sam that he had not heard laughter, the pure sound of merriment, for days upon days without count.

And, yes, the look exchanged, especially Sam's positively melting smile, is perhaps the slashiest thing in the three films, but it is honest and beautiful. It's refreshing, to me, to see that the filmmaker's included it. Although they have said repeatedly, actors and director, that they did not mean to portray Sam and Frodo in love with each other, they had to have known the prolonged shot of their mutual smiles would be perceived by many as lover-like. No, they bit the bullet and went ahead and portrayed two people of the same sex who loved each other with a devoted, even tender, love, who had been through hell together and did not care if the world knew. They did not try to water their affection down, or cover it up, with lots of slaps on the back. I thought that was super, and still do, although it surely is a scene that must have launched a thousand slash fics. If I were an S/F slasher, this would be my favourite scene in the film! Even without being a slasher, I think it's absolutely beautiful and thank the film gods that it was included in the final cut.
Estë   (or ST for short)
este_tangletoes at 2007-11-02 15:24 (UTC) (Link)
Gosh! I love this scene in both book and film.

Jan’s poem goes straight to my heart.



This
oh, this
I cannot bear:

the still body
a mere breath,

a step
from mine,

ragged hands....

feet bound by red-tinged
linen.

My eyes take account
of every hurt,

every breath that
struggles
there.


This reminds me that part of Frodo’s guilt stemmed from what Sam had suffered.

*Estë gets very weepy and decides to cheer herself up by treating herself to another long session of cap-gazing*

(((((Mechling))))) Thank you!

Mechtild
mechtild at 2007-11-03 00:19 (UTC) (Link)
You are welcome, Estë! Yes, for me too it was this poem that reminded me of how Frodo would probably have felt responsible for Sam's suffering--even though Gandalf had ok'd Sam's coming, and even though Sam had absolutely insisted.
frodosweetstuff
frodosweetstuff at 2007-11-15 20:38 (UTC) (Link)
I'm bad. I'm saving all the bed screencaps in the hope to be inspired to write some hobbit smut... *blushes*

Thank you for enabling me! :)
Mechtild
mechtild at 2007-11-15 21:09 (UTC) (Link)
You are welcome! (I only make the caps, I don't tell people how to appreciate them. *whistles innocently*)
julchen11
julchen11 at 2008-08-06 10:54 (UTC) (Link)
I love this scene in the book and in the film.
It’s one of the Schlüsselszene – for my part – Frodo slowly wakening, the first (blured) face he sees is Gandalf’s with so much love in his eyes and heart for Frodo.
Jan’s poem is heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

“After all his long years,
after all his wise eyes
have seen,

he can still cry.”

This makes me weep… it goes straight to my heart.

The guilt Frodo feels for Sam … “How could I do this to him…”
I’m sure he feels responsible for all what happened to his friend.
“Maybe
you
will help me see
there is nothing
to forgive.”

Reading you post, looking at the caps, dreaming in Jan’s poem –
There’s nothing else I and my mind want to say.

The pictures of you both are drawn with of words not of colors.
Just beautiful.

You made my day, my dears.
Thank you for this very “speaking” post.

Love,
Julchen

Mechtild
mechtild at 2008-08-06 12:33 (UTC) (Link)
Thanks, Julchen. I loved the way Jan nuanced this poem. She really deepened my thought and heart in relation to what Gandalf might be feeling towards Frodo, what he had asked of him without asking. He would feel these hard things even if it was the necessary choice, and Frodo accepted the choice, just as Frodo would feel these things towards Sam, even though it was the necessary choice (that the Ring-bearer should be accompanied by his capable, faithful servant), and accepted that choice.
(no subject) - (Anonymous) Expand
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