For the Love of a Princess
Galadriel and Her Personal Resonance for Me
It causes my sister no end of distress that, for the most part, my favorite books are all historical nonfiction. Indeed, as I am writing this I am currently halfway through Assassin’s Apprentice by Robin Hobb, a fantasy novel she swears by. But I could probably have been done with the book twice over if I also hadn’t started volunteering at my local library, which is blessed with an entire floor dedicated to historical nonfiction. And as a history major, many of my personal heroes are drawn from the pages of history: Baldwin the Leper King, Joan of Arc, Richard III, Isabella of Castile, Philip II of Spain, Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa, George Washington, Archduke Charles of Austria, Ulysses S. Grant, George Henry Thomas, Charles I of Austria-Hungary, Sir Andrew Cunningham, George S. Patton, Chester Nimitz, Frank Jack Fletcher, William Halsey Jr…I think you get the point. But that doesn’t mean I actively hate fiction, of course. And not just historical fiction either. Uhtred of Bebbanburg may have been based on a historical character, but Jack Ryan wasn’t. Richard Sharpe may have fought in the Napoleonic Wars, but Matthias the Warrior certainly didn’t; for one thing, he was a mouse, and probably not even a 2-foot one like Reepicheep. And yet they all are part of great stories, compelling character arcs, and qualities that I relate to and appreciate. Same story with Rosa Diaz, Jim and Pam, Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker, Miho Nishizumi, Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, Britta Perry, Frodo Baggins, Aragorn, Eowyn…
And Galadriel. In particular the flawed, striving, but ultimately heroic and inspiration character that we meet in Unfinished Tales and some of Tolkien’s letters, and which Morfydd Clark has brought to life in The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power. If you’ve followed my work for any length of time, dear reader, you’ll recognize that the defense and appreciation of Morfydd and her portrayal of Galadriel is part of my “brand” here at the Tales That Really Matter. Two of my most intense essays, “The Sunne in Splendour” and “Triumphant Leader” represent only the most “academic” of my defenses of our dear Nerwen based on Tolkien’s texts; and they certainly won’t be the last. But that’s not what I’m going to do today. Today, I’d like to take a step back from how Galadriel in Rings of Power is faithful to Tolkien's writings about the character, and instead touch “briefly” on something else: why do I love the character as we meet her in the show so much? After all, Robert Aramayo’s Elrond is potentially even closer to Tolkien’s description as "noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord…strong as a warrior…wise as a wizard…venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer." And Maxim Baldry’s Isildur is very much a walking disaster who means well and his trying so hard to do his best; he even looks a bit like Chuck Bartowski from Seasons 1 and 2, and is a Sea Cadet to boot. So why Galadriel?
Put quite simply: it's because I see myself in her, both in how I am now and in who I want to be. To an extent that I don’t in other characters in the show. Independent of how her characterization is faithful to Tolkien’s extended lore concerning the character, I find who she is, her story, and her character arc throughout Season 1 to be deeply relatable to who I am, to what I have experienced in my thirty years on this earth, and to who I hope to be. And who is she? A good person. Kind, insightful, generous, courageous, driven, loving, selfless and compassionate, but also struggling with great darkness, both from without and within. The loss of her home, her family, and thousands of her friends; isolation; sorrow, trauma, anger, creeping despair; carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders…She’s gone through a lot, and by the time Season 1 ends her trials are not quite over, even if she has gotten better at dealing with them. But she has cannot be defined by her sorrows, her trials, and her sins. Sometimes she may let them influence her actions, with embarrassing or unpleasant consequences, but they are not who she is deep down. And when she remembers who she is and acts upon it are some of her finest moments in the season. Alas, too many people only see the Galadriel who is single-minded in her crusade to the point of obsession, who is given to flashes of anger and wrath, who can be impatient with her friends, who can toy with and at one point allow herself to be gripped by some very dark impulses, and thus write her off as evil, or flawed, or somehow “not Galadriel”. And this cannot stand; for whatever reason, these people are cutting themselves off from the “real” Galadriel that the show offers us.
But where can we find this “real” Galadriel? Allow me to illustrate a few examples of her at her best, her exhibiting the nobility and virtue that I believe are who she truly is, and her being an example to me both how I relate to her and how she is a vision of who I hope to be.
I see a person who can connect to people on an emotional level and help them there with mercy and generosity, who is constantly trying to inspire people to be their best selves, to be a force for good. Be they a nervous Princess-Regent of Numenor concerned that one wrong step will trigger the apocalypse, a young Sea Cadet trying to find himself, a troubled teenager for whom a brush with darkness has cut too close to home, even a fallen Maia who still has some small spark of potential goodness buried within him. And it’s always because it’s the right thing to do. Of course, it will help Galadriel in her crusade if Halbrand and Miriel are in the right headspace, but with her common-sense and perception, she can also see that these are two souls in need of saving for their own sakes, regardless of her own needs. And did she have to take the time to talk with Isildur on the deck of their flagship, or to bare her soul to Theo on the long retreat back to friendly lines? I love this aspect of Galadriel, not least because it’s something I have tried to do myself. Whether as a college junior and respected member of the Purdue Catholic Students community, as an aspiring Tolkien influencer, or just as a friend, I always tried to be a rock of good sense whenever I felt that the situation was one where I could offer meaningful help. This could be on a big picture level as a member of an organization, or on a more personal level where I just needed to be still and listen. And the best parts are when I wasn’t even aware it was happening, and only found out later that I had exerted a positive influence.
I see a person whose “negative” emotions do not just include anger, pride, vengeance and hauteur, but also pain, sorrow, loss, hurt, rejection. Especially in cases when she’s trying so hard to do the right thing, but gets hurt almost as a direct result of it. This is most apparent in the course of her interactions with Halbrand, who although she cannot see who he really is can see a certain potential for good buried deep within and tries so hard to bring it out. And for her efforts she gets betrayed, twice. The first time Halbrand sells her out to Pharazon in exchange for the guild crest that will allow him to work as a smith; as she calls him to the carpet for it, you can see that she’s practically holding back tears. Just because she has been betrayed before, as she has been by Feanor and even Elrond, doesn’t mean she has to like it. And then again later, when Sauron reveals himself as having made his choice for evil. Not only is she heartbroken that all her efforts to save his soul have come to naught, but then he tries to turn her good intentions against her, to use them as a weapon to terrify her into joining him. It’s enough to make a person weep, and indeed she does. And it’s not only Halbrand/Sauron. Later as she tries to offer counsel in the Finale, the tense and agitated High King Gil-galad brusquely reminds her that she shouldn’t even be in Middle-earth at all; she says nothing, but her face is just so sad. Here she is, having chosen to forego the bliss of Valinor and persevere in the fight, only to be told that she has no place with the rest of her kin and friends who are persevering in the struggle. I cannot tell you, dear reader, how many times I’ve been in similar cases. How many times I’ve tried so hard, indeed given something my all, but have been told that it’s not enough. How often my failings and weaknesses have not been occasions of solidarity and instructions, but have been used as weapons to cut deep. How in many cases people to whom I’ve laid bare my very soul have ultimately forsaken me, sometimes to the point of turning my heart against me. You would think I’m used to it by now, but no, it still hurts.
I see a person who can take pleasure in the simple things of life, indeed who can find real transcendent and mystical levels of joy in them. Be it when she is joyfully reuniting with her best friend Elrond both in the Pilot and the Finale, or when she is at one with the free spirit of her horse on the beaches of Numenor, or when she is being a whirlwind of Amazonian joy while training Numenorean recruits in swordsmanship. These scenes are a window into who we all are meant to be, people of joy and light and warmth. And these are only a few of the more significant moments. Listen also to how her voice breaks a little in gratitude when she thanks Elendil for bringing her to the Hall of Lore, or see how she allows herself a small smile after dodging the palace guards and as she and Arondir take in Halbrand’s acclamation as King of the Southlands. Just as I do. Be it playing with my cats, or reading an excellent example of that historical fiction or biography or nonfiction narrative that I mentioned in the introduction, or taking in an unseasonably warm and clement fall and winter, or taking a step back to regard a completed essay for my Masters program or a construction/landscaping project, or waxing poetic about Tolkien or military and political history, or even smiling with joy at the newest images of Morfydd Clark at a public function. Joy is real, joy is wonderful, joy can be found even in the most modest and simple occasions.
I see a person who’s never afraid of backing down from a fight when she knows that the cause is right. It’s true, the scene where she stands proud and defiant before the hostile court at Armenelos isn’t her best moment. But there is still something to be proud of and to be inspired by in this scene. She may be a wet, sunburned dishcloth, who’s only average height in Numenor and indeed is a bit smaller, utterly alone, and hated by all who see her. Yet she does not cower in fear, but continues to exude grace, nobility and strength. She remains proud of her lineage (which is not only one of Elvish royalty, but which also means she is more closely related to the founder of the House of Elros than even Princess-regent Miriel herself), committed to her mission, and with a clear eye on what she needs at the moment, even it does lead her to a flash of injured pride later in that same scene. Or when she and only one other soldier are the last ones standing in the face of a surprise attack of a troll, but immediately go on the attack as soon as they have a grasp of the situation. Far from being a scene where a Mary Sue does woke feminist things, as it’s been constantly portrayed on Twitter and Youtube, here is a brave warrior and commander reacting swiftly to a crisis, taking in the situation, and acting decisively alongside her comrades to resolve it. Leading cavalry charges or fighting deadly mind duels with the Dark Lord, Galadriel may not look as though she wants to drive her head through a brick wall (as was said of General Ulysses S. Grant), but when the cause is right, she will do it. And this is always something I try to do. Usually with more assurance online where my opponents are faceless and nameless, I admit. But sometimes I do try on a more personal level. And sometimes, just being myself is the bravest thing I can do. Provided that the version of myself that is here at the moment is something to be proud of.
I see a person who has a holy sense of wonder and awe at the mystery and beauty of the world and the people who live in it. As we can see in Galadriel’s eyes, both as the grey rain-curtain of the world rolls back and she sees her first glimpse of the holy light of Valinor, a light she knew in her childhood and which she yearns for, but which she knows that she is not yet worthy of; this is one area where Galadriel of the show is actually improved from her book counterpart, who was also homesick for Valinor but was also jealous of it and sought to recreate it in Middle-earth, with her as the great power. Or as she beholds the might and majesty of Numenor for the first time; despite having seen beauty and majesty on a truly “otherworldly” scale, in Valinor and the Elven kingdoms of Beleriand in the Elder Days, she still is completely captivated by what the Dunedain have accomplished with their island home, and mourns that such a race, which was once as kin with the Elves, has fallen so far apart from their old friendships. I can relate to Galadriel. I am old enough to remember seeing St Peter’s Basilica in Rome for the first time, or the mighty cathedrals of Burgos or Toledo, or the Doge’s Palace in Venice, or the King of Spain’s household lancers and cuirassiers parading through the streets of Madrid; and it was awesome, in the literal sense of the word. Even getting my blood pumping reading Allen Guelzo’s account of the charge of the 1st Minnesota on the second day of the Battle of Gettysburg, or seeing the splendor of Themyscira in theaters, and yes, seeing Numenor through Galadriel’s eyes. Awe and wonder can come upon a person in many ways. And it is good to embrace awe and wonder.
So, to quote Emperor Joseph II from Amadeus, the overrated son of the mighty Holy Roman Empress Maria Theresa: “Well, there it is.” Here, friends, is why I love Morfydd Clark’s depiction of Galadriel as we meet her in The Rings of Power, independent of how well she interprets the character that we meet in Tolkien’s legendarium (and by now, it should be no surprise that I believe she is faithful in spirit to Tolkien’s writings, if not perhaps in every exact detail). Because of my own lived experience, and thanks to her powerful performance, here is a heroine whose story contains echoes of my own life, both in its sorrows and in its joys, in its hopes and in its fears, in its past and in its future. Thank you, dear Morfydd, for showing me a heroine who I can relate to, both in fighting the long defeat and in seeing traces of everlasting glory. May many others draw joy and comfort from what you bring to the world of Tolkien and to the pantheon of heroic female characters in fiction. The vitriol and hatred to which you and Nerwen have been subjected will doubtless go on, but for every hateful Youtube video and tweet, there are many who love you. As for me and my house, we will always be grateful, and we look forward to Galadriel’s continuing journey.
All images ©2020, Amazon Studios, unless otherwise noted.
The art of praise is much neglected nowadays--but not by you! Well done.