Okay but what of the huge door being opened by nine (normally) "invulnerable" bad guys who wield
weapons (and can be hurt by physical things like fire and water) -- do they need fear anyone without
Merry's type of dagger? Why fear
Boromir?
Elthir my friend, I believe I can answer you, and at the same time shed some light on how the Great Rings affected
Elves and
Men necromantically – for
Sauron, who led the Elven-smiths of Eregion to forge them as they were, is
The Necromancer.
Necromancy is magic concerning death and the dead. In
Tolkien’s world, this involves the relationship between the body, the
hröa, and the spirit, the
fëa. Throughout the legendarium, the natural progression for Men was for their
spirits (
fëar) to part from their bodies (
hröar) because of old age, disease, or injury, and depart
Arda. The natural progression for Elves was for their spirits (
fëar) to remain with their bodies (
hröar) from birth until the end of Arda, unless they were killed. (Some Elves also departed their
hröar from grief:
Fëanor’s mother Serindë and
Lúthien Tinúviel are two notable examples; but these are exceptions.)
The problem for Elves, particularly in
Middle-earth, was that their
fëar “consumed” their
hröar, so that the
hröa eventually became invisible (
Morgoth’s Ring, “Myths Transformed”, “
Aman”):
[A]fter the vitality of the
hröa was expended in achieving full growth, it began to weaken or grow weary. Very slowly indeed, but to all the Quendi perceptibly. For a while it would be fortified and maintained by its indwelling
fëa, and then its vitality would begin to ebb, and its desire for physical life and joy in it would pass ever more swiftly away. Then an
Elf would begin … to
“fade”, until the
fëa as it were consumed the
hröa until it remained only in the love and memory of the spirit that had inhabited it.
This
fading was of great concern to the Elves. It did not happen, or took place much more slowly, in Aman (
Valinor). But Elves in Middle-earth had begun to notice it before the middle of the
Second Age, because preventing their physical
fading seems to have been one of the temptations Sauron, disguised as “
Annatar”, offered to the Elven-smiths of Eregion: It was one of their motivations in making
the Rings of Power.
What does
Sam say of
Lórien?
[T]his is more
Elvish than anything I ever heard tell of. I feel as if I was
inside a song.
has preserved a bit of
the old world, the world that was before
fading, within her borders.
Aragorn warns Boromir,
There is … in this land no
evil, unless a man bring it hither himself.
What does Tolkien say of
Rivendell?
[S]uch was the virtue of the land of Rivendell that soon all fear and anxiety was lifted from [the] minds [of Frodo and his companions]. The future, good or ill, was not forgotten, but ceased to have any power over the present.
And in
The Hobbit,
[Rivendell] was perfect, whether you liked
food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Evil things did not come into that valley.
I cite all this to reiterate what
Gandalf told
Frodo about the Three Rings:
[T]hey were … made [for] understanding, making, and healing, to preserve all things unstained.
In
Letter 131, Tolkien goes into some detail about this (please pardon such a long citation):
[The Elves] wanted the peace and bliss and perfect memory of “The West”, and yet to remain on the ordinary earth where their prestige as the highest people … was greater than at the bottom of the hierarchy of Valinor. They thus became obsessed with
“fading”, the mode in which the changes of time … was perceived by them. They became sad, and their … efforts all really a kind of embalming – even though they also retained the old motive of their kind, the adornment of earth, and the healing of its hurts. We hear of a lingering kingdom, [Linden]; and of other[s], such as
Imladris (Rivendell)…; and a great one at Eregion … adjacent to the Mines of
Moria, the major
realm of the Dwarves… There … smithcraft reached its highest development. But many of the Elves listened to Sauron. He was still fair … and his motives and those of the Elves seemed to go partly together… Sauron found their weak point… With the aid of Sauron’s lore they made
Rings of Power (“power” is an ominous and sinister word…).
The chief power (of all the rings alike) was the prevention or slowing of
decay (i.e. “change”, viewed as a regrettable thing), the preservation of what is … loved … – this is more or less an Elvish motive. But also they enhanced the natural powers of a possessor… [F]inally they had other powers, more directly derived from Sauron (“The Necromancer”…): such as rendering invisible the material body, and making things of the invisible world visible.
Let us focus for a moment on this last sentence,
rendering invisible the material body, and making things of the invisible world visible. I strenuously argue that the Elves had
no desire to be made invisible: that contradicts what Tolkien said earlier in the passage, that the Elves “became obsessed with ‘fading’.” And those Elves who had lived in Valinor, likely including
Celebrimbor, could already see into the “invisible world,” the shadow-world, spirit world, whatever you’d like to call it: the “wraith-world,” if you will: it is Tolkien’s spirit world. But Sauron is The Necromancer. How would his powers be used to allay the Elvish obsession with “fading”?
I propose that the necromancy of the Rings of Power was to
prevent the fading of the
hröar of their Elvish wielders. It interrupted the
natural progression of Elvish physical development in Middle-earth: It
stops the consumption of the
hröa by the
fëa (i.e., it
prevents physical decay) in Elves. This would be most enticing to an Elf!
But what is their effect on mortal Men? Well, it still halts the natural progression of the relationship between the
hröa and the
fëa, but in this case, it
prevents physical death. That’s a variation of necromancy, but in this case, instead of inducing death, it holds the
fëa, the spirit, to the
hröa, the body. You can get
hurt, really badly hurt, but you can’t
die. And if you consider this, it could become a kind of living hell.
No doubt their Rings of Power gave their nine mortal keepers enhanced powers in combat, strength, command, sorcery. It made them effectively “immortal” in the eyes of other Men – warriors and commanders who (seemingly) could not be defeated, could not be overcome, particularly if the wielder of a Ring took some precautions. (Like not sticking your head in a guillotine: that could be messy, carrying your head under your arm!) But they could be hurt, and like anyone else who is injured, you have to heal. As Tolkien says in
Letter 210,
[The Ringwraiths] have no great physical power against the fearless; but what they have, and the fear that they inspire, is enormously increased in darkness.
But what happens to an injured Man when
the Ring finally reaches its Elvish goal of arresting
change? Well, he remains a injured Man! Unless he is a competent enough sorcerer or conjurer to heal himself – or Sauron helps him heal. And this explains an odd thing Tolkien writes in “The Hunt for the Ring” (
Unfinished Tales): After the
Ringwraiths returned from their unsuccessful hunt for “
Shire” and “
Baggins” in the Vales of
Anduin,
[T]hey met messengers from
Barad-dûr conveying threats from their Master that filled even the Morgul-lord with dismay.
Why would the
Witch-king be “filled with dismay”? One good reason could be that Sauron could torture a
Ringwraith without lessening his usefulness as a minister of his will. And by the same token, why would the Witch-king be afraid of
Gondor’s Steward Boromir I? Because Boromir had control of his fear, he was a great commander and personally an outstanding warrior, and thus he had the ability to injure even the Witch-king.
Why would five
Nazgûl run away from Frodo at
Weathertop? Because Frodo had a Barrow-blade, and even though he was terrified, he tried to stab the Witch-king with it! The
Barrow-blades could break the spell that bound a Nazgûl’s
hröa to his
fëa – his
hröa could really and truly be killed like any normal Man’s body, at the least leaving that Nazgûl “houseless” like an Elf that had lost its body but refused the summons to
Mandos, but at worst consigning him immediately to his eternal doom. (We are not told which: I am on the side of the Witch-king’s spirit, his
fëa, becoming “houseless” until the destruction of the
Ruling Ring, when it passed on to its eternal doom.)
Submersion in water might be unpleasant for a Nazgûl: he’d have to hang upside down to get the water out of his lungs, and I personally find water in the lungs
most unpleasant! Fire injuries are extremely painful, and the magic needed to heal them might be unpleasant, too. A Morgul blade drew a Man’s body into the wraith world, while
a Barrow-blade drew a Ringwraith’s body back into the real world, making him vulnerable to having his body severed from spirit.
This explanation allows the Rings of Power to do the same sorts things to both Elves and Men:
upset the normal equilibrium between their bodies and their spirits, their hröar and fëar. But the
outcome of upsetting that natural balance (or progression) is different depending upon whether the wearer is an Elf or a Man. For the Elf, it means his body doesn’t
fade. For the Man, it means his body doesn’t
die – unless the spell is broken by one of what we call the Barrow-blades made by the Dúnedain of
Arnor. The natural powers and abilities of Elves and Men alike are enhanced by
the Nine Rings. But while they may lessen the degree of injuries, or reduce the likelihood of injury, they should not be seen as proof against injury.
And yes, this does imply that one or more of the Nazgûl could be stitched up like Frankenstein’s monster due to treating old injuries.
By the way, I don’t think Tolkien ever refers to the Nazgûl as “invulnerable”.
───◊───
[W]hat of this [quote] (letter 210):
"There is no fight. Sam does not "sink his blade into the Rinwraith's thigh", nor does the thrust save Frodo's life. (If he had, the result would have been much the same as in III 117-20 the Wraith would have fallen down and the sword would have been destroyed.)"
The Wraith falls down. One doesn't
necessarily fall down from being stabbed in the thigh with a dagger, but I might fall too if I could no longer will my limbs to do what I wanted them to do.
When Merry stabbed the Witch-king in his contest with
Éowyn, I think he took out one of the Witch-king’s tendons behind his knee, so that he was injured (he cried out in pain), he no longer had stability to remain standing, and the swing of his mace went wide of his target: to wit, Éowyn’s head. Even if Sam (in Zimmerman’s proposed alteration of Tolkien’s tale) missed any major tendons and only stabbed into muscle with a Barrow-blade, I expect it would still have been a painful experience like none other the Witch-king had encountered since becoming enslaved to his Ring: I think that was Tolkien’s point; besides, Tolkien was immensely annoyed with Zimmerman’s proposed alterations of his tale.
That said, it may be that Tolkien was musing about this make-you-vulnerable idea in the quote you provided, but (and not that you said otherwise) I don't feel it's a necessary conclusion based on what happens in the published text, including the description of the blade that follows the stab…
I can’t prove my position. I can only offer what seems to me a sound and reasonable explanation that, to my mind, works well with what most of us can agree is material Tolkien presents in the rest of his legendarium.
Tolkien illustrates a "necessary" concern with respect to the Oath-breakers, or at least (I think wisely) acknowledges to the reader that they were not necessarily a "ghost force" that yet could kill the living…
I think the situation with the Oath-beakers is entirely different from that of the Nazgûl.
Gollum,
Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam could all attack and injure others while wearing
the One Ring, and they could also be injured while wearing it. I don’t know that the
Dead Men of Dunharrow did more than terrify the mariners and soldiers of
Umbar:
Gimli remarked that at Pelargir,
Pale
swords were drawn, but I know not whether their blades would still bite, for the Dead needed no longer any
weapon but fear.
As I say, even Sauron can't slip into Gondor in spirit-form and slay
Kings or
Stewards willy nilly. He's incarnated, and he fears being "de-bodied"
First of all, I don’t think Sauron still possessed the ability to shift shape. I think he and the
Balrogs were stuck in the incarnations they wore. (The same had become true for
Melkor Morgoth by the end of the
First Age, and he was a
Vala!) Before the destruction of his first avatar in the Downfall of
Númenor, Sauron could change his appearance at will, as we see in the fight with
Huan at the Bridge of Tol Sirion, or when he disguised himself as Annatar to deceive the Mírdain of Eregion. I think this ability was lost after Númenor.
I certainly agree that Sauron feared being unhoused: thus his reaction at seeing Aragorn in the
Orthanc Stone with the Sword of
Elendil: it scared him! and that’s exactly what Aragorn meant to do: frighten him, put him off balance, in order to draw his military might out of
Mordor so that Frodo could more easily enter and accomplish his mission.
[W]e don't (or at least I don't) get the impression that this magic type of "make you vulnerable" weapon is the norm in Gondor,
Rohan, or Imladris, for examples.
I absolutely agree with you, Elthir. I think the Barrow-blades are most unique! I believe it’s significant that
Tom Bombadil chose them for the
Hobbits, knowing that they would sooner or later have to face the Ringwraiths: he clearly knew what they were and why they were made. I think Frodo used one on the Barrow-wight, but all it did to the Barrow-wight was sever its hand at the wrist, splinter immediately (I suspect that’s a property of the blade’s striking a creature in the “wraith world”), and piss it off mightily: It cried out, then snarled. The spell that allowed an evil spirit to inhabit a corpse in the barrow (perhaps that of the last Prince of Cardolan) was different from
the one that bound the
hröa of the Witch-king to his
fëa.
Bombadil broke the Barrow-wight’s binding spell.
Like their counterparts the Morgul blades, the Barrow-blades are special purpose weapons. (Seeing the effects of Morgul blades might well have inspired the forging of Barrow-blades.) I imagine all of them were crafted by the same smith before the Great Plague that wiped out the inhabitants of Cardolan. I think they were forged in Cardolan (and were thus in the graves there), and I cannot see how they were made without the assistance of either Tom Bombadil (which would immediately explain his recognition of the weapons and their purpose) or one or more of the surviving Mírdain in Imladris. (Some of the Mírdain apparently remained in Rivendell until the end of
the Third Age; I think it was they who reforged the shards of
Narsil into
Andúril.) Somehow the
Dúnadan who forged those blades came to know how to terminate the power of a Great Ring to hold together the
hröa and
fëa, and I think that knowledge could only come from one of the smiths who had worked on the Rings of Power or from Bombadil, assuming he understood how Rings of Power operated. With that in view, I’d have to say the more likely source of information is one of the Mírdain. But I whole-heartedly agree with you that these are unique weapons. By the way, it’s notable that while Bombadil recognized their usefulness, neither Aragorn nor Gandalf nor
Elrond makes any comment on them: I don’t know that they realized what they were. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, but it is suggestive.
───◊───
I can’t prove my proposition. I offer it as an explanation because I think it makes sense, I think it fits together well with other things we know about Tolkien’s works, and I don’t believe it contradicts anything he wrote either in canon or in his private musings (that have so far been published). I’ve spent over 10 hours working on these two posts and written well over five thousand words: I cannot justify spending any more time on this. I hope some of you find it useful, but if you disagree, that’s certainly your prerogative.