I do think the differences between The Two Towers and The Fellowship of the Ring are stark, and to me they boil down to something like "Now it's really happening." The War -- the shooting war, if you will -- is well and truly started. This book has more action, put most simply, than The Fellowship of the Ring.
The theme of The Two Towers? Hmmm -- that even in the darkest times (and places!), and under the direst threat, it is still important to fight, to resist, and not to lose hope. For there is always hope. And a partial victory is not to be disdained.
The following notes, mostly about character, are just that: notes, prompted in part by questions asked during our slow read. I have note organized then into anything more. (And in a sense The Two Towers, as a middle book, is harder to treat by itself. I have said some more about The Fellowship of the Ring and The Return of the King in the pieces linked below.)
1. Boromir
The question came up in our reading group: is he redeemed at the end of his life? I think he is, in nearly a Christian sense, in that he has confessed his sins and accepted the consequences. But it in a way he did not grow -- didn't have time to be sure -- he chose (not that there was much choice) to die as he (apparently) lived -- violently. Heroically too -- yes -- but the Heroism he wanted. Not, for example, the heroism Sam embodies. It's interesting that Aragorn is Boromir's true King? Aragorn hearing his confession is in a sense his first overt act as King.
2. Treebeard
On this rereading I found myself appreciating Treebeard -- both the Ent himself and the chapter of that name -- more than I did in previous readings. I find him a fascinating character. I am also rather delighted by the bit in the letter to Auden in which Tolkien confesses to disgust at the scene in Macbeth where "Birnam wood comes to Dunsinane" -- I think Macbeth is a very great play but that scene has always struck me as almost a cheap, trivializing, joke.
I see Treebeard as very effectively a portrayal of something truly ancient. I did wonder though, at his claim to be the oldest creature in Middle Earth. Isn't Tom Bombadil of similar or even greater age? Or am I misremembering. I suppose I regard Old Willow as a sort of Ent, or a variety of Ent, perhaps a half-woken Ent?
3. Saruman
It seems to me that Saruman's desire for control is to a great extent self-centered. Even when (if) his control might be seen as in the service of good, what he wants to a personal reward -- at the very least, acknowedgement of his power, of his (self-perceived) goodness.
Of course in the end his "control", his "power", is false -- as he is unable to resist the lures of Sauron. And part of the reason for this is his desire for reward -- for Sauron (and even the likes of Wormtongue) can offer the "reward" of at least flattery. (I will refrain from making any comment on contemporary politics! -- though I should say this weakness, it seems to me, has beset political leaders at all times, as surely Tolkien knew.)
The question came up in our book group: how is Saruman "creating" Orcs different from Elves "wakening" Ents: As for Saruman's "creation" of Orcs and the Elves wakening of the Ents, I see two differences. One is that the elves merely awakened them -- they did not attempt to "create", they just activated a latent character, or so I see it. Saruman wanted to instill his "creations" with specific characteristics in service to him. It was a selfish act, and motivated by evil intent.
4. Gollum
Was Frodo's pity for Gollum appropriate? Of course! As to whether Frodo would have been justified in killing him -- I believe killing is only justified in true self-defense. And while it's a cheat, we do know if this is a reread that killing Gollum would have been a terrible mistake in the end.
I see Smeagol and Gollum as very much the same person. Two instincts in conflict. Tolkien here is literalizing a conflict many of us have between are better and worse natures -- though Smeagol's "betterness" is, I suppose, only relative.
Perhaps the most obvious way Frodo and Gollum are similar is that both are to some degree slaves of the Ring. Frodo is resisting it to the best of his ability, but if he'd had the Ring as long as Gollum, could he have resisted?
Frodo's choices are all bad, but this reflects the state of all of Middle Earth at this time. War is terrible, but war against Sauron must be waged.
It's an interesting question how differently things might have turned out had Sam been more generous to Gollum. I think Sam's attitude is fully understandable, and in essence was earned by Gollum/Smeagol. The point is, I believe, that no one is beyond repenting, and turning to God. And that the Christlike response is to believe them and accept them ... But Sam as always is the most "human" of the characters ...
5. Faramir:
It is interesting that we meet Faramir only after Boromir's death. Seeing them interact may have been intriguing. Boromir is very brave, very strong, and outwardly virtuous, it seems to me. I think his greatest weakness is a longing for power, along with a longing for praise. His bravery seemed in part a bid for approval -- he is brave because if he wasn't he fears he'd be held in contempt. Faramir is very much not looking for power, and his bravery, as evidenced in his treatment of Frodo, is not necessarily physical but moral -- indeed, he spares the hobbits even knowing that many of his fellows will feel he has done wrong.
6. A note on Tolkien's poetry:
I find is poetry a mixed bag. Some simply doesn't work for me. But some is beautiful, including many of the poetic passages in The Lord of the Rings. (I also love "The Last Ship", from his poems included in The Tolkien Reader.)
But in The Two Towers specifically, I'll just mention how much I like the poem Aragorn sings -- "Where now the horse and the rider". It is partly inspired by the great Old English poem "The Wanderer", and it truly captures the Old English style and mood -- no surprise from a scholar like Tolkien of course. But it is truly beautiful, and in many ways the mood of regret, of great things passing away, applies to the entire novel.
The line "They have passed like rain on the mountain" seems also to be echoed (maybe consciously?) in Roy Batty's famous speech at the end of of Blade Runner: "All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain."
