In this biweekly series, we’ll be exploring the evolution of both major and minor figures in Tolkien’s legendarium, tracing the transformations of these characters through drafts and early manuscripts through to the finished work. This installment walks us through the development of Éowyn, the fierce and tragic woman of Rohan who defeats the Lord of the Nazgûl in The Lord of the Rings.
Éowyn of Rohan is one of Tolkien’s most beloved characters—especially, perhaps, by women and girls, many of whom see in her something to be admired, emulated, and loved. Few can forget that stirring moment in which the stern shieldmaiden casts off her helm, her hair like fire in the dim light, and declares with a laugh in the very face of a demon: “no living man am I! You look upon a woman.” But this scene didn’t emerge without hesitation and alterations. Perhaps unsurprisingly, given Tolkien’s penchant for continuous and extensive revision, Éowyn’s textual history is complicated and fascinating, revealing the transformation of a woman who was, originally, an even more outspoken and vital part of her community, but who becomes the woman we know, the one who goes to war in disguise and vanquishes her army’s most fearsome enemy.
In the earliest drafts of The Lord of the Rings of which Éowyn was a part (she was always there, in Rohan, even in its earliest days), we find a woman named Eowyn Elfsheen (in the early notes her name remains unaccented), daughter of Eomund (also unaccented here), who waited on King Théoden her uncle alongside the latter’s own daughter, Idis. There are several things worthy of note here. The first is that in these early drafts, there is yet no hint of the shadow that would come to darken the Golden Hall. Wormtongue, when introduced, is largely silent and it does not appear that Tolkien had yet foreseen the dramatic role he would come to play in the narrative. Secondly, in an early, sparse outline of the events to follow, Éowyn is slated to openly accompany her uncle and brother to battle before the gates of Minas Tirith “as Amazon” (VII 437). Thirdly and finally, Éowyn outshines Idis to such an extent that the latter eventually fades from the story, her disappearance apparently the result of an instantaneous, instinctive decision on the part of Tolkien.
These last two points are particularly interesting. Idis (whose name comes from ides, “woman, lady,” an anonymous appellation if ever I heard one) never speaks; she tends to be somewhat overlooked even by her father, who only speaks to her once, and at the same time as he does to Éowyn. Even then, Idis recedes to the background: Théoden addresses them thus: “Go, Idis, and you too Éowyn sister-daughter!” (VII 445). By the very next draft, Éowyn has come to such prominence that Idis slips out of the story, as silently and unobtrusively as she had taken space in it. Probably, Tolkien already had a clear conception of Éowyn’s role in the narrative, and felt it strange that the king’s niece should overshadow his own daughter—this, at least, is Christopher Tolkien’s surmise, and it seems likely (VII 447). When Théoden makes plans to take his stand at Helm’s Deep, he names Éowyn, not Idis, as “lady in my stead.” And a moment later, when Theoden refers to Éomer as the “last of the House of Eorl,” Háma responds, much as he does in the published text, “‘There are Idis your daughter, and Eowyn his [Éomer’s] sister. They are wise and high-hearted.’” Christopher Tolkien notes that “at this point […] the brief existence of Idis came to an end; for the next words that my father wrote were ‘All love her. Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.’ All references to Idis were then removed from the manuscript” (VII 447, emphasis original). It becomes clear, however, in the pages that follow and in the subsequent volume of The History of Middle-earth, that the role Éowyn was to play could not be supported if Théoden had a daughter, for that (elder) daughter would naturally take precedence over the (younger) niece. So Idis fades away, and Éowyn’s part in the story only increases.
In fact, in these early sketches of The Lord of the Rings even Arwen’s presence does not overshadow Éowyn’s in the life of Aragorn. In fact, Arwen is noticeably absent, and the other two at this stage are destined for marriage, and the stern, hardened Ranger struck dumb by the impression left on him by the self-possessed shieldmaiden: “As they [Idis and Éowyn] went, the younger of them looked back: ‘very fair and slender she seemed. Her face was filled with gentle pity, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. So Aragorn saw her for the first time in the light of day, and after she was gone he stood still, looking at the dark doors and taking little heed of other things’” (VII 445). Indeed, even when, shortly thereafter, Tolkien realized that Éowyn “should die to avenge or save Theoden,” the idea that Aragorn loved Éowyn remained, along with the suggestion that the King of Gondor “never married after her death” (and thus produced no heirs), an unusual and thus powerful notion testifying to the extent to which Éowyn had captured Aragorn’s heart. At this early stage, then, it is Aragorn and not Éowyn who is seemingly caught in the nets of unrequited love.
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In the drafts that followed, Tolkien waffled on the exact nature of Éowyn’s position in the society of the Rohirrim. She and Aragorn are much together in these pages, subtly highlighting the potential romance, but Éowyn is also an outspoken supporter of the women of Rohan, even declaring (upon hearing that too few warriors have arrived with which to face the might of Mordor) that “women must ride now, as they did in a like evil time in the days of Brego […], when the wild men of the East came from the Inland Sea to the Eastemnet” (VIII 243). Éowyn’s advice is apparently not heeded, as no one responds and the women do not ride to war (excepting, of course, our “Amazon”). It seems from this scene that Éowyn takes a significant part in the council (whether she is listened to or not); and a moment later when either Aragorn or Éomer (Tolkien wasn’t sure) decides to take a portion of the men round to attack the enemy in the rear, she announces that she will ride also, as a representative (VIII 243).
Throughout the many drafts that follow (see primarily The War of the Ring), Éowyn’s influence is marked. Upon returning to Dunharrow, Théoden seeks her out and requests a report of the people’s journey, which Éowyn provides in a paragraph significantly longer than any uninterrupted speech she makes in the published version. Gradually, however, Tolkien began to reconsider her role, and when he abandoned the original first chapters of Book V, the result was a significant shift in the tone of Rohan. At this point, Éowyn’s vibrancy and her prominent position amongst the male leadership begins to fade.
At this stage the idea that Éowyn must ride to battle in disguise emerges. Tolkien plays with it, drops it, and picks it up again numerous times before the anonymous young warrior who shadows the king emerges (the name Dernhelm gets adopted even later). At this point, too, the number of drafts and revisions and notes begin to proliferate, and the vast number of differences are hard to juggle. At one point, Merry is allowed to ride openly to battle, and at another, is “assigned” to an anonymous warrior (clearly Éowyn) whose small stature and light weight, when compared with other Riders, will allow the horse to bear them both. Sometimes, it is Éowyn and Théoden who kill the Nazgûl, together. Sometimes, Éowyn is able to save Théoden, but dies herself. At others, Éowyn dies avenging her uncle. And still in others—and this is where the final version begins to emerge—Éowyn seems to die while avenging Théoden, but is later found to be alive.
It would be easy to see this diminishment of Éowyn’s position in Rohan as some kind of veiled sexism or as an inadequate treatment of one of the few female characters in The Lord of the Rings. But this notion seems to me to be troubled by Éowyn’s earlier textual history. Clearly, Tolkien first envisioned Éowyn as a powerful, wise, respected woman who easily took up the leadership of her people and rode openly into battle as one of the army’s more valiant warriors. It is only when Éowyn is sidelined as a political leader and relegated to serving tables and preparing pavilions that her bitterness and coldness appears.
What changes is not so much who Éowyn is, but rather the freedom she is accorded by the society she lives in. Take for example that conversation referenced above between Théoden and Hama, in which the king automatically assumes that the doorward’s reference to the “House of Eorl” meant Éomer. Théoden incorrectly refers to Éomer as “‘the last of that House,’” but Háma, who apparently has been paying attention, corrects him, saying, “‘There is Éowyn, daughter of Éomund, his sister. She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her. Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone’” (III, vi, 523). That same chapter ends not with the clash and the fervor of the departing army, but with the jarring juxtaposition of Éowyn’s isolation, highlighting the extent to which she has been excluded or forgotten by the menfolk: “Far over the plain Éowyn saw the glitter of their spears, as she stood still, alone before the doors of the silent house” (III, vi, 525).
We can, however, see the Éowyn of earlier drafts in one of her conversations with Aragorn as he prepares to ride away on the Paths of the Dead. When Aragorn repeatedly urges her to accept her decentering and to be resigned to always staying behind, she retorts: “‘All your words are to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.’” And when Aragorn, appropriately cowed, asks what she does fear, she responds: “‘A cage […] To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire’” (V, ii, 784).
(I here encourage you to stop and revisit Éowyn’s defeat of the Lord of the Nazgûl, as no secondary description can quite capture the glory of that moment.) After her challenge of the Nazgûl and her victory over the Witchking of Angmar, Sauron’s captain, Éowyn is brought to the Houses of Healing, near death. It is here that she meets Faramir, the erstwhile Steward of Gondor, as both are convalescing.
Éowyn’s healing and her acceptance of Faramir’s marriage proposal has been problematized by numerous feminist readings of the text, and rightly so: I don’t wish to undermine those readings and indeed agree that in some respect, Éowyn’s own will and choices are overshadowed by Faramir’s. Éowyn’s sudden “conversion,” as it were, makes little sense logically, and no reason beyond the emotional is given for it; but it is also clearly a moment of epiphany. It stands in for the moment in which the soul is literally enlightened by the salvific light of the spiritual. Not insignificantly, the couple stands in a high tower, named after the greatest of Arda’s lights, when this “conversion” takes place: “‘I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun,’ [Éowyn] said; ‘and behold! the Shadow has departed! I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren’” (VI, v, 964-965).
Critics have further taken issue with the seeming illogical nature of Éowyn’s decision to give up her inclination towards war, but I would encourage us to read this as (in this context) the appropriate and even expected response of a soul that has been brought out of darkness. Faramir, significantly, makes the same decision along with her: together they turn their backs on war (a specific form of violence which desecrates and even denies connections and communion with others and with the earth) and jointly dedicate their lives to cultivating a healthy and evolving relationship with their environment.
Éowyn’s original desire to be queen, as Faramir recognizes, was a desire “‘to be lifted far above the mean things that crawl on the earth’” (VI, v, 964). It was a misguided understanding, in other words, of exactly what the soul’s ascent (glorification, perhaps) means: her desire was appropriate, though it found expression in an unethical relationship with the world and those around her, influenced by the world and society she had always known. When Faramir explains to the Warden of the Houses of Healing that “‘now [Éowyn] is healed’” (VI, v, 965), then, he is referring to a healing that is profoundly both spiritual and material, a healing that takes the form of ethical communion with the world. Once Éowyn desired “‘to be lifted far above the mean things that crawl on the earth,’” a natural expression of her culture’s values and social structure; now, healed, she becomes a gardener and a pacifist, working among the things of the earth, loving them and caring for them in a way that is all her own.
Éowyn is, to be honest, one of my favorites of all Tolkien’s characters, and this journey has only deepened my appreciation of her role in The Lord of the Rings. What seems to be most significant about her transformation over the course of the many and complicated drafts is its harsh lesson about society’s tendency to box people in, to demand that they fill certain roles and not others. Éowyn’s story illustrates clearly what can happen to a person when they are “caged”: the wounds it can inflict and the scars it can leave behind. Again, if Éowyn’s wisdom, self-confidence, and influence are diminished in the final version, it can only be because her society constructs the cage which trammels her. Gandalf recognizes this. “‘[Y]ou had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields,’” he tells Aragorn and Éomer; “‘but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours’” (V, viii, 867, emphasis mine). In response to his words “Éomer was silent, and looked on his sister, as if pondering anew all the days of their past life together.”
Image: “Éowyn” by Sempern0x
Megan N. Fontenot is a hopelessly infatuated Tolkien fan and scholar who does not at all apologize for the immense joy that researching writing about her favorite Tolkien characters bring her.
Oooo…………..I really like this.
Your comments, more than any other explanations I’ve ever read, have soothed my resentments about Éowyn’s (1) turning from Aragorn to Faramir, and (2) turning from shieldmaiden to pacifist. For one thing, I now understand why I had always rooted for her place at Aragorn’s side: it is because the remnants of Tolkien’s original plan are still there, embedded in the dialogue and narration of their interactions. It was years, I think, before I even read the Appendices (I assumed they were dry and boring reference works), where we finally find the “Tale of Aragrorn and Arwen.”
But in addition, Megan, your description of her spiritual transformation, her being set free from the “cage” of her society’s expectations, have unfolded for me insight into this transformation I had never considered. Her “turning’s” now hold a profound depth of character development I had misinterpreted before. Thank you!
Thank you for the insight on Eowyn’s textual history. I’ve only read LOTR, The Hobbit, and (most of) The Silmarillion, so most of these insights were unknown to me. A reread may be in order. <3
I saw the movies first and was immediately taken by Miranda Otto’s very pale, moon-bright skin. Then I read the source materials and found her to be even more awesome. Definitely one of Tolkien’s best characters.
Aragorn points out, correctly, that a man assigned as Lord of the Eorlingas left behind would have no right to lay down that duty and go adventuring. It is Eowyn who insists on making this all about her sex.
The first draft of Eowyn as accepted Shield maiden and leader was interesting but am I the only one who finds the later Eowyn in rebellion against her societal role even more interesting? And don’t forget by rejecting those standards she pretty much saves the day and performs the greatest feat of the Battle of the Pellanor fields. Her rebelion is justified by events.
As for the Faramir issue I’ve always seen that as the same ‘hammering swords into plowshares’ that all the other heroes of the War are doing. Of course Eowyn settles down to build the peace just as Aragorn and Faramir and the Hobbits do.
Your analysis is why I abhor Jackson’s treatment of the character in the film. Not only does he junk her romance plot, he undercuts the severity of her decision to challenge the Witch King. It’s not the desperate act of someone bent on forcing a role for herself in society, but a hapless sort of bumbling from which she must be saved (especially the additional scene in which potato-head orc comes after her and she’s rescued by Aragorn without him realizing).
Also, the repeated “fakeout” deaths of other characters in the film trilogy undercut the power of her apparent sacrifice and resurrection.
I liked the bulk of Otto’s portrayal but that scene fills me with gall every time.
@1 Eowyn does not change from shieldmaiden to pacifist. She changes from shieldmaiden to former shieldmaiden. Not the same thing.
And she changes from despair, intending only to die gloriously, to hope.
Of course, the entertaining side of this is that she was able to kill the Witch-King only because she was in despair; desiring to commit suicide-by-eldritch-abomination. The sorcery that drove others to flee from him in fear could only attract her. The most terrible fate he could offer was attractive to her, so long as it came from his hand. The very fact that it came from his hand would, in the eyes of herself and her countrymen, raise her “far above the mean things that crawl on the earth”.
I don’t think Tolkien tried to diminish Éowyn’s role in the story at all. I think the corruption of Théoden diminished everything around her and her “marginalization” was a symptom of being one of the few remaining incorruptable characters. She represents the ideal from which Rohan has fallen.
I read somewhere that Tolkien intended Eowyn as a character his daughter could identify with. Could Eowyn’s resistance to social expectations have had something to do with that? Eowyn defied the norms of her culture and sex and achieved something great. But with the Fall of Sauron she had to find something more to life than chasing glory. Settling down again to a relatively mundane life is something all our heroes do. Everybody who doesn’t go over sea gets married and raises a family while working to heal the world.
Had Tolkien kept to the Amazon/Valkyrie-style first draft, Éowyn would quite possibly have ended up more of a flat archetype. Like all of the main characters in LotR, she faced enemies on the battlefield, but giving her another antagonist in the form of oppressive societal expectations made for much more compelling character development. In reducing her (overt) role and responsibilities in-universe, the author probably ended up increasing her impact on the story and readers.
I think it is notable that the raw deal she got from her society is not merely subtext, but something recognized—in some cases explicitly—by major characters like Gandalf, Aragorn, and Merry (even if none are willing or able to do anything about it). Her arc with Faramir may be somewhat rushed and clichéd in the way it is written, yet at its conclusion we see her choose a role for herself, more or less on her own terms, in contrast with the various social roles which she previous could only accept. This contrasts sharply with many of the other characters, particularly Galadriel and Arwen; arguably, what helps Éowyn stand out is that she is one of the few characters who seems to be genuinely happier and better off as a result of her experiences during the War of the Ring.
A few random thoughts. First Eowyn is in one of the few Tolkien couples where the woman marries someone far higher in status. Second Eowyn won’t necessarily have an easy time as Faramir’s wife. As she points out most of the Dunedain of Gondor look down on the non-Dunedain people of Rohan (though Eowyn does presumably have some Dunedain ancestry through her maternal grandmother). Third Tolkien makes it clear that war should not be loved for its own sake, Eowyn is not choosing something lesser. Fourth I think somewhere that it is stated that King Elessar and King Eomer often rode to war together to safeguard the borders of their realms (one wonders how much of Harad Elessar ends up controlling). This implies that Faramir stayed back as the Steward something that he prefers doing and often would have been the only ruler while the king was away. Eowyn presumably aids him and maybe takes the lead role in Ithilien, their princedom. (It does make me wonder that if Boromir had survived and become Steward whether Boromir, who much preferred war, would have led the armies while Elessar stayed home).
@10 Erp
“First Eowyn is in one of the few Tolkien couples where the woman marries someone far higher in status.”
I don’t see the status difference. Eowyn is niece of King Theoden and sister of King Eomer. Faramir is younger son and (after Boromir’s death) heir of the Steward of Gondor (who is king in all but name until Aragorn’s return). They’re both younger children of the ruling class. In many ways, they are well-matched and might have ended up in an arranged marriage for the purpose of strengthening the alliance (or even a love match) if the Ring had stayed hidden for another hundred years.
Eowyn has always seemed to me to be the most psychologically complex characters in the books. She feels trapped, she has been pushed into depression by Grima, she falls in love with the hero-figure at first sight, she is physically and spiritually damaged at the exact moment she claims her power as a woman, and she falls for the smoothest pick-up line in all literature (“Darkness Everlasting is coming. Hold my hand, please!”).
I have always been troubled by the people who say that she betrayed feminism by stepping back from being a warrior and becoming a healer. Personally, as a physician, I see that as a promotion (and an exact match for Faramir’s personal philosophy about the proper role of war…)
Thank you for this! Your exploration definitely reflects my evolving feelings on the character. As a kid, I loved her. Reading it a bit older, I felt a bit miffed at her renouncing her warrior ways. But as an adult I see that as something else – I don’t think she became a pacifist, per se, nor do I think she suddenly became mild and passive. But – like Faramir always knew (and likely Tolkien himself) – she is recognizing that glorious deeds in battle aren’t glorious for their own sake and there is a certain kind of valor and value in building society.
I also think she is one of the more multi faceted characters, as I think she struggles with what seems to me like depression. Even when she wants the right things (such as going out to battle) she doesn’t always want them for the right reasons as she is also trying to escape (or maybe seek out) her own darkness. I also viewed her ‘crush’ on Aragorn as more of a crutch – just something she saw as a means to escape, but wouldn’t have actually made her happy.
Faramir is my favorite, so I don’t mind at all that they ended up together :)
The status difference is huge. Faramir is the son of the Steward of Gondor, and Éowyn is the illiterate barbarian niece of a tribal chieftain.
Jackson is partly responsible for the misunderstanding, giving the Rohirrim letters in the film when Tolkien is clear they are “unlearned, writing no books”, and having Háma refer to Edoras as a city, when it isn’t. Saruman is a meany, but he’s got a point about the House of Eorl. His gibe hits home.
The setup is Tolkien’s version of Rome or Byzantium vis a vis the Ostrogoths, Lombards, or Franks.
@14/Del: Er, what? That the Rohirrim didn’t write as a matter of culture, preferring their oral histories, doesn’t necessarily mean that all of them couldn’t.
And your historical references undercut your argument. Theodoric may have died illiterate, but he encouraged literacy among his people; the elites among the ‘barbarian’ realms of medieval Europe became literate relatively quickly to establish their bona fides—an attitude Tolkien explicitly mentions as being shared by (the clearly non-elite) Barliman Butterbur. If Rohan followed a parallel path to its European analogues, then Eorl would probably have remained illiterate but at least some of his descendants would have learned their letters within a couple of generations. I for one find it hard to believe that literacy would be widespread in The Shire and Bree yet completely missing from Théoden’s hall.
@14, 15 Regarding literacy, in The Battle of the Pelennor Fields it is recorded that the Rohirrim carve an inscription in both the language of Mark and the language of Gondor on a stone that marks Snowmane’s grave.
@10 Regarding the status difference, I think it is important that Eowyn is royal while Faramir is not, even if Faramir’s family might be more powerful. (Though even that is not clear when Aragorn has returned.) We know Boromir felt the absence of the royal title was important, even if the Steward ruled as a king. We also know that in Tolkien’s society, formal titles mattered even if they did not always correspond to power. No one would give the prime minister of the UK, the practical ruler of the largest empire in the world, social precedence over a minor king.
As for the gender role thing, I guess that for Tolkien Eowyn’s settling down is especially appropriate for a woman. (Though seemingly she will be a career woman, with her talk of being a healer, and not a housewife.) Faramir does not love war, but I imagine he still will have to fight a few battles or at least be ready to do so as Steward, so I don’t think he abandons a previous identity in quite the same way Eowyn does. But I don’t think Tolkien clearly put his anti-feminist views into the text, so those that would be bothered by them can ignore them.
The Rohirrim are presumably being analogous to the Old Germanic peoples, who had runes but only seem to have used them for various types of markers-grave markers, marking a sword to show who owned it-rather than writing books or poetry in runes.
By the way, I totally agree that nothings suggests she becomes a pacifist. I would make a comparison with Frodo, who does not personally use violence in the scouring of the Shire, but who does acknowledge it has a place for others to use. I would also point to the comment in the book that it is unusual for someone to be a healer and soldier at the same time, something which Tolkien elsewhere also describes as being true of the Elves. Eowyn we remember announced her intention to become a healer.
I think she concludes violence is not for her in the future, but nothing suggests to me that she thinks everybody should renounce violence.
Carl @18, yes, or the Britons who, before Caesar came, were already issuing coins stamped with British names in Latin letters, or the Tartessians who used Phoenician letters to inscribe stones in their own language. Tolkien of course was aware of the long history of using other people’s letters for marking important artifacts.
Eowyn has been through the mill in a way we can understand and identify with. Her uncle and foster father is falling into senility, a tragedy in itself made worse by the fact he is simultaneously falling under the influence of an evil counselor endangering their kingdom.
Theodred and Eomer are equally alarmed and concerned but as Gandalf points out they can ride around and do something about it. Eowyn is stuck at home in the stressful role of caretaker with Wormtongue gaslighting her. Theoden’s healing and Wormtongue’s disappearance from her life does not fix everything, damage has been done and nobody has the time to address it. Eowyn herself doesn’t recognize she is still suffering. She thinks her despair and death wish are a rational response to what is happening around her.
Disguising herself as Dernhelm was not an act of justifiable rebellion but motivated by despair or in modern terms severe PTSD. Furthermore Eowyn deserted a post of importance and authority to do it. She abandoned people depending on her for leadership and protection. I cannot believe she would have done such a thing in her right mind however much she yearned to be where the action was.
The more I think about it the more it seems to me that Eowyn’s story changed because the Professor specifically wanted to address the social expectation laid on women that his daughter as well as Eowyn would have to face. His message seems to be that yes the constraints are unfair, yes defying them comes with a price but it is possible to achieve a great thing and find happiness in spite of the obstacles.
Hi everyone,
All your comments are fascinating, and since good scholarship is supposed to generate conversation, I’m considering this article a success!
I’m noticing, though, that a number of people disagree with my reading of Éowyn and Faramir as pacifists, so I wrote up a blog post on my own blog explaining exactly how I reached that conclusion. You don’t have to agree; just hear me out. Here it is:
https://megannfontenot.hcommons.org/2019/04/07/faramir-and-eowyn-as-pacifists/
I enjoyed reading that Megan, and came away enlightened. Thanks for writing…and for posting the link.
When reading LOTR I found it implausible that Eowyn could wield a Sword without having had practice doing so. So I gave her a backstory of my own: in their previous days in the North, there had been a fair number of female warriors among the Rohirrim, just as with the Vikings. When they settled in Rohan, there was less need of this as the Rohirrim became more secure and slightly more “domesticated”. Eventually only female members of the Royal Houses took up Swordplay, and even this became mostly ceremonial. Even so this had lasted until Eowyn’s time, so that she had practice from childhood at hunting, riding a horse, use of the bow, and even Sword Practice.
I also saw her attraction to Aragorn as an attraction to optimism, heroism, and courage themselves, and not specifically to the Man. I wouldn’t even bother to point this out, but I have come across many commenters in other places treating her as a jilted lover, nothing more.
I consider there to be a great flaw in how Tolkien handled this, though. Why does Aragorn not tell her what he intends to do, or if that is too much to reveal, at least tell her that what he does is out of hope and not despair, or even simply “duty” (to what?). If he had done so then I could still see her deciding to ride with the Rohirrim – not out of despair, but rather with more than ordinary courage.
I have always assumed she had sword training. I think there are traces left in the book of Tolkien’s earlier conception of a more Amazon-like culture in the Mark, and have always assumed that if she wanted to participate in sword training with her brother, that would be accepted in her culture.
Eowyn calls herself a shieldmaiden and everybody seems to know what she means and be totally unfazed. It’s clearly a perfectly respectable status, if uncommon, I wonder if Eowyn would have been an acceptable regent if she hadn’t been capable of defending her people in her own person.
Right, “shieldmaiden” is clearly a known concept, but what that says about their actual occurrence is debatable. (We are familiar in our culture with words for rare or indeed purely imaginary occupations and roles.)
The sentences cited in the OP “But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death” is clear evidence for her having trained in fighting, and rather suggests that might be common in her house at least. Their is also the fact that Faramir at some point talks about the valiant men and women of Mark. (Can’t remember the exact words.) This might not mean valiant in battle, but it is tempting to read it that way.
On the other hand, she seems to be the only woman who actually goes into battle, and the people of Gondor, Rohan’s close allies, are amazed to see a woman in battle at all. Perhaps training in fighting is reasonably common among the women but they rarely join the army as such.
The suggestion that shieldmaidens might have been more common in the past, so people have heard of the role but don’t expect to meet a living one, is a good one.
The Chief of the Ringwraiths was a King of one of Arnor’s successor-nations, and he was utterly astonished to encounter a female warrior. That trope might go back to Numenor itself. Didn’t Ar-Pharazon rebel partly because he couldn’t tolerate the idea of a ruling Queen? Westernesse may have been really sexist even by Tolkien’s post-Victorian standards.
I’m pretty sure Are Pharazon just wanted power for himself. After three previous ruling queens the opposition to Tar Miriel was almost certainly about the King’s men and Faithful conflict not Miriel’s sex. Female warriors do not seem to be a Numenorean tradition however despite the Lady Haleth.
I get the impression that the riders who sneak Merry into the baggage are perfectly well aware of Dernhelm’s true identity. While their assistance (and silence) could simply be deference to the will of a royal princess, their behavior is also consistent with the idea that shieldmaidens were a rare but acceptable role among the Rohirrim.
@28: The Witch-King is astonished that a mortal is challenging him, but he makes no other comment to Éowyn. As it was his last recorded utterance, we’ll never know if any further thoughts regarding her sex, and its suitability for the battlefield, went through his mind before her sword did.
Military veteran here – Eowyn fights and defeats Sauron’s chief lieutenant on the field of battle. Aragorn struggled against him in the wild and Ford – it took Glorfindal (my personal favorite) to dispatch him ( and the 9). Eowyn achieved the greatest feat of battle on the Pellanor Fields – and the greatest individual feat n the recent history of the Rohirrim. Whether in depair or out of love and courage ( my opinion) she defeated the Witch-King.
Becoming a healer – coming from her trapped responsibility (covered well in the OP and other commentors) what this highlights is having paid a great price (near death), achieving great deeds, she has the CHOICE to lay down the sword and heal. Her sacrifice, pain & heroism gave her freedom to chose. Why do you think so many veterans choose lives as police, EMTs, teachers and counselors?
Status: Eowyn may be more officially royal, but the Rohirrim are not-quite-vassals of Faramir’s Steward ancestor, Cirion, and Faramir harks back to old Numenorean phenotypes, like his father and Aragorn. I just found myself wondering how long he and she lived.
“I can ride and wield” does raise the question of who trained her.
Training your women to help in defense, especially if the men are away, while not expecting them to go risk themselves in battle afar, has always made military-demographic sense to me.
I was looking for something unrelated when I stumbled upon this;
I would argue that something quite different happens as Faramir and Éowyn talk together. All true encounters with goodness are healing because they connect us with a reality that is deeper than whether we emerge from something in triumph or failure, even than whether we live or die. In encountering true goodness we realise that we have met something that transcends such things and in falling in love we sense that this transcendence is profoundly personal. Goodness, Truth and Beauty are not simply ‘out there’ to be admired but lie within, both within the one who loves and in the beloved, centre to centre, subject to subject. When this happens we may not stop to reflect on it, unless such reflection is our normal practice, but we most certainly feel it. The feeling of wholeness and glorious aliveness that we experience when we fall in love is for most of us the most profound thing that we shall ever know.
At this site:
https://stephencwinter.com/2018/01/08/7249/?wref=tp
There is love and there is love. What a lover experiences depends on the lover’s capacity. Goodness, Truth, and Beauty are always available. Not everyone can bear them.
Faramir and Éowyn were able and ready.
I think it makes complete sense that Eowyn has a change of heart after what she went through. She realized the truth behind war and violence and learned that nothing worthwhile comes from it. And no you don’t have to be a woman to understand or value peace and life. Having a near death experience and witnessing the death of her uncle (who was a father to her) forced her to come to terms with a lot in a very short time. I think it’s beautiful that Eowyn then dedicated her life to actual life, not to glory or pride or accomplishment, but to growth and healing. If she continued to be interested in Aragorn, she could not truly be living in this new found way. No growth could be born of it since he would never return the feelings. Eowyn and Faramir were destined to be together, having somewhat similar experiences. And who better to share your life with than a man who values life so much? People aren’t willing or able to understand the spiritual connection that the two shared, therefore they think she just copped out and regressed to her role as a woman. But I don’t see it that way. Eowyn embraced her role as a woman- a healer, a giver of life, with an open heart and hope for the future of the world.