Mechtild's

~ detail from a manip by Bandwench.



It was marked on my kitchen calendar. March 25: "Fall of Sauron". The destruction of the Ring and the Tower of Barad-dûr, the rescue of Frodo and Sam, the 'eucatastrophe' from which the hopes of the Free Peoples rose out of the smoke and ash of the Dark Lord's ruin. Of course I would have to celebrate it. Jan-u-wine agreed. But I'd screencapped every bit of the film scenes. In image and verse we'd pored over the destruction and fall and the rescue by the Eagles and the recovery in Ithilien.

It was another, quieter but no less pivotal event that captured my imagination this year, jan-u-wine's too . Re-reading the draft of a letter Tolkien wrote in 1963 to Mrs. Eileen Elgar (who had questions about whether Frodo failed or not), the matter of Arwen's gift of the jewel and her passage to the Undying Lands caught my attention. I sent it on and it provided the catalyst for a new and beautiful piece of jan-u-wine poetry.

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The primary illustration for this piece is a manip Bandwench made several years ago, which she called "Prince Elijah". Although the source image was a photo of Elijah Wood, to my mind it was an image of Frodo, but Frodo no longer living in the Shire. To me it was Frodo as imagined across the Sea, dressed in foreign clothes (the Gaffer, surely, would not approve), yet clothes appropriate to one whom Gandalf called Bronwe athan Harthad, who was the King's friend, sung by minstrels, and hailed by armies. Bandwench had made the manip in an array of colour effects, but the one she did in 'gray scale' had the most magic for me, with its soft diffuse glow, revealing a bit of the inner light Gandalf had seen in Frodo as he recovered in Rivendell. I showed it to jan-u-wine and she, too, thought it was stunning, worthy of a poem.

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Happy 120th Birthday!


I am so grateful this man lived and created such wonders for so many to enjoy and cherish. And I love the photo below. It's from the cover of Tom Shippey's fine Author of the Century. The mood, the look of the sea, the time of day -- this is very much the way I picture the end of "The Grey Havens", Sam standing on the shore, looking long at the grey shifting sea over which Frodo has gone.

What Tolkien wrote, even if categorized 'Fantasy', always had the ring of 'been there, done that', from the external settings to the deepest experiences of the characters. He'd stood by the sea, he'd known irreparable loss. And turned it into unforgettable art.

Jan-u-wine, inspired by the photograph below, has written a beautiful tribute to the Professor for his birthday. It is posted below the image.


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What better way to celebrate The Birthday than with [manipped] photos by the late, great Pierre Vinet and a new poem from jan-u-wine. Happy Birthday, dear Bilbo and Frodo, our most beloved Bagginses.


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Thanks to antane, over a dozen jan-u-wine poems have been nominated in this year's MEFA's, and I'm finally getting around to making an announcement. This journal has featured more than a hundred of Jan's poems, so you won't be surprised when I say I'm exceedingly pleased. :) All of the nominated poems have appeared in posts here, and a linked list is provided below, if you'd like to re-read any of them in my format.

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I couldn't celebrate the anniversary of the fall of Barad-dûr without a positive end note. Here is the last of the three anniversary posts. In this poem, jan-u-wine imagines Frodo, semi-conscious, literally transported, as he and Sam are rescued by the eagles, carried to the safe haven of Ithilien.

To set off the piece, I made some new screencaps of Frodo being borne by the eagles. These were made from the standard widescreen edition of ROTK EE. Thank you, Blossom, for advice on better tweaking screencaps.

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March 23: Frodo and Sam in the wastes of Gorgoroth.

The poem:

Written from Sam's point of view, jan-u-wine's 'Report From the Road' takes readers to Sam in near-despair. On March 14, Sam rescues Frodo from the tower-dungeon of Cirith Ungol. Clothing themselves in the armour of dead Orcs, they escape, only to be over-taken on the road and forced to march north, away from their goal, with a group of soldiers headed for Udûn, and its fortress, Durthang. In the tangle which follows the simultaneous arrival of several companies of Orcs at a cross-road, Frodo and Sam manage to escape, leaving the road and turning east once more to face the smoking wastes of Gorgoroth. Frodo, his burden heavier with each step he takes toward the Mountain, grows weaker and slower every day. On March 23, he is unable to carry extra weight any further and casts the hated Orc gear away. Sam throws away his beloved pots and pans. Lightened, Frodo recovers some strength, but by the end of the day he is worse than ever. It is at this halt, Frodo collapsed and Sam falling into dark thoughts, that Jan's poem takes place.*

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While it is still winter, here, anyway (it was -7 F this morning), I thought it would be good to present a couple of jan-u-wine poems set in that season.

The poem below contrasts the warm home of Frodo and his parents with the frigid cold outside. It is full of just the right details to create a wonderful atmosphere. The world of the poem seems as real as the room I'm sitting in, perhaps even more real. I feel I am snuggled inside with Frodo, wrapped in familial love and savouring all the good things. Winter presses against the glass and shoulders the door, but it can't get in.

I chose two paintings to set off the poem. ( Read more... )

~ detail from Monet's "The Pond at Montgeron"


Here we have another splendid "parent poem" by jan-u-wine, its sombre beauty flowing down the page like the river it describes, its joys and sorrows flowing through the consciousness of the boy who lived by it, both its bright surface and unplumbed depths. To accompany the poem, I chose a painting by Oscar Claude Monet (1840-1926).

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~ from Gustav Klimt's "The Three Ages of Woman", 1905.

It's been a while, hasn't it? Real life has taken its toll, not to mention writerly inertia. But how could we not celebrate the Bagginses' birthday? I know it's not till tomorrow, but it's already the 22nd in England, so why not? I am afraid Bilbo will get left out this time, since the poem I'm posting has to do with Frodo and his mother, not Frodo and Bilbo, but I think he will forgive me.

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I've wanted to make a Frodo manip out of this painting for a long time. It's been in my "possibles" file for years. But I never found a face that I thought fit with it. Finally I think I have.
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