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A review by mafiabadgers
The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien
5.0
First read 03/2021, reread 09/2024
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers: Book III seems to have been taken as a model by almost every fantasy writer since Tolkien, inspiring them, firstly, to write stories about people running around and mustering armies to hack subhuman races into little bits, and secondly, to employ a surfeit of colons, resulting in monstrosities like Shannara: Heritage of Shannara: The Talismans of Shannara. And it should be said that these events are very impressive, in a way that makes it quite unsurprising that Peter Jackson made them look so spectacular on screen. It is undeniably an exciting book. Somehow, though, I feel like Tolkien's poking around in the wrong places. The setting feels very old, with constant references to scraps of ancient lore, but I should have liked our introduction to the people of Rohan to explore their present culture a little more, and to get a better sense of the personalities of Gimli and Legolas and Éomer, which come through only in fleeting moments. Sam and Frodo don't even make it into this book, but perhaps it has enough going on already.
Book 4. If book 3 became the cornerstone of most post-Tolkien writers, it's only fair to say that book 4 is the foundation of Le Guin's fantasy. In fact, Tolkien seems to have matured in between the two books: instead of Gimli bragging about his forty-two dead orcs, we get Shagrat and Gorbag discussing their (admittedly still rather evil) retirement plans, and Shelob defeated through her own strength and, uh, the power of friendship? Not to mention Faramir dropping lines like "I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its sharpness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend". I think he beats Sam for my favourite character in the book on account of his genteel nature and maybe-mind-reading; Sam could have been brilliant, a character who is fat and unlearned but nonetheless a hero by virtue of the love he bears for his friend. Unfortunately, said friend is also his employer, so it could be argued that he's redeemed by virtue of his slavish adherence to his position in the servant class, and it leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. I do think Tolkien is rather overfond of his nobility—Merry and Pippin taking five steps into Fangorn forest and immediately running into Fangorn himself, chief of the Ents, is a good example (Faramir's introduction I forgive; he had a few hundred men under his command, two of them spotted Sam's campfire, then ran it up the chain of command. Sensible). Gollum is excellent, a perfect combination of fawning (a grotesque parody of Samwise) and truculence, and transforms the early parts of the book from a dull slog into psychological game of cat and mouse. Frodo grapples with Gollum, the externalisation of his struggle, much as Ged would struggle against the shadow fourteen years later.
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers: Book III seems to have been taken as a model by almost every fantasy writer since Tolkien, inspiring them, firstly, to write stories about people running around and mustering armies to hack subhuman races into little bits, and secondly, to employ a surfeit of colons, resulting in monstrosities like Shannara: Heritage of Shannara: The Talismans of Shannara. And it should be said that these events are very impressive, in a way that makes it quite unsurprising that Peter Jackson made them look so spectacular on screen. It is undeniably an exciting book. Somehow, though, I feel like Tolkien's poking around in the wrong places. The setting feels very old, with constant references to scraps of ancient lore, but I should have liked our introduction to the people of Rohan to explore their present culture a little more, and to get a better sense of the personalities of Gimli and Legolas and Éomer, which come through only in fleeting moments. Sam and Frodo don't even make it into this book, but perhaps it has enough going on already.
Book 4. If book 3 became the cornerstone of most post-Tolkien writers, it's only fair to say that book 4 is the foundation of Le Guin's fantasy. In fact, Tolkien seems to have matured in between the two books: instead of Gimli bragging about his forty-two dead orcs, we get Shagrat and Gorbag discussing their (admittedly still rather evil) retirement plans, and Shelob defeated through her own strength and, uh, the power of friendship? Not to mention Faramir dropping lines like "I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its sharpness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend". I think he beats Sam for my favourite character in the book on account of his genteel nature and maybe-mind-reading; Sam could have been brilliant, a character who is fat and unlearned but nonetheless a hero by virtue of the love he bears for his friend. Unfortunately, said friend is also his employer, so it could be argued that he's redeemed by virtue of his slavish adherence to his position in the servant class, and it leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. I do think Tolkien is rather overfond of his nobility—Merry and Pippin taking five steps into Fangorn forest and immediately running into Fangorn himself, chief of the Ents, is a good example (Faramir's introduction I forgive; he had a few hundred men under his command, two of them spotted Sam's campfire, then ran it up the chain of command. Sensible). Gollum is excellent, a perfect combination of fawning (a grotesque parody of Samwise) and truculence, and transforms the early parts of the book from a dull slog into psychological game of cat and mouse. Frodo grapples with Gollum, the externalisation of his struggle, much as Ged would struggle against the shadow fourteen years later.