Éowyn and Heroic Femininity, Part 1: The Desolate Maiden
The Shieldmaiden of Rohan is the pinnacle of heroic femininity.
- This post was written entirely from the brain and heart of a real, flesh-and-blood, ensouled human being, with zero ideas, input or editing from AI. All artwork is credited to the original, human creators. I will never willingly outsource my brain to AI. EVER. -
Dear friend,
As you may have guessed, the subject of this post is a bit different from my typical style. It is the first of a planned 3-part series (maybe more) concerning the entire story of Éowyn, Éomund’s daughter, shieldmaiden and sister-daughter to King Théoden of Rohan in J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic trilogy The Lord of the Rings. For years I’ve longed to write out my reflections on her character and embody my love for her story in words. So this post is exactly that.
Anyone who knows me knows full well that Tolkien, his works, and his characters hold a cherished place of honor in my heart. He has also had a formative impact on my worldview, my faith, my love of beauty and of literature. I would not be the woman I am today without the influence of dear old John Ronald. He was a genius of language, of storytelling, of philosophy…and of human nature. He understood the relationships between men and women in light of reality and his Catholic faith, and the understanding flowed through his pen to the characters he wrote.
I’ve spent many hours collecting my thoughts, rereading the books, reading articles, and watching YouTubers, all on the same subject of Tolkien, Éowyn, and femininity. She is far and away my favorite female character of all time (Faramir, of course, is my favorite male character) and her story deserves more attention and love. If you’ve only watched the movies, oh friend you have barely scratched the surface of her story. While I cherish the movies and think Jackson and his team did a great job considering the scope of the source material they had to adapt…they did not do Éowyn justice. Her movie arc is incomplete - it misses the culmination of her journey, her almost-spiritual transformation, and it only vaguely hints at her love story with Faramir (which is one of my favorite parts of the books). If you haven’t read the books you are missing out.
But I’m getting sidetracked. In this and the following posts, I will attempt to explain how Éowyn’s story perfectly encapsulates the feminine heroic journey (as distinct from the heroic masculine). Her struggles and desires echo uniquely feminine experiences: loneliness, abandonment, the fierce desire to be part of something greater than oneself, the search for purpose, despair, healing, mothering, softness, and relational connection. Of course, men deal with similar issues. But women encounter them as women.
Every woman can relate to the feminine heroic story. We see ourselves in Éowyn and others like her because they appeal to deep wounds and deeper longings within us. We desire security, love, and purpose. When those things are taken from us, we feel isolated, exposed, and confused. Then temptations creep in: bitterness, despair, defensiveness. Our hearts become hardened. We become a lost princess imprisoned in a tower. It takes some catalyst outside ourselves to set us free. Perhaps that looks like another person who pursues us, speaks into our hearts, piercing and then repairing the relational holes. Or perhaps we need to hit rock bottom, to actively seek death out of a misguided understanding of our worth and purpose. Whatever it is, something shifts in our lives. Out of that shift comes vulnerability, healing, and growth. We become the women we were designed to be, gifted with new purpose and new relationships, secure in who we are and what we are for. Freed from the tower.
That is true beauty. True femininity. That is Éowyn’s full story.
I believe many women today who are lost, broken or hardened can learn from Éowyn. She’s one of the greatest female characters of all time for a reason.
As the subtitle states, however, we must start at the beginning of Éowyn’s journey: emotional and physical desolation.
Fair and Cold
The woman turned and went slowly into the house. As she passed the doors she turned and looked back. Grave and thoughtful was her glance, as she looked on the king with cool pity in her eyes. Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river of gold. Slender and tall she was in her white robe girt with silver; but strong she seemed and stern as steel, a daughter of kings. Thus Aragorn for the first time in the full light of day beheld Éowyn, Lady of Rohan, and thought her fair, fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come to womanhood. And she now was suddenly aware of him: tall, heir of kings, wise with many winters, greycloaked, hiding a power that yet she felt. For a moment still as stone she stood, then turning swiftly she was gone.
-The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, p. 515
This is the first moment in the book that we see Éowyn, apart from a brief mention of “a woman clad in white” standing behind Théoden when he is first introduced.
We learn much about her from this first description. She is not a woman given to flightiness or flattery. She is quiet, “grave and thoughtful,” giving even her uncle, the king himself, a look of “cool pity.” She is detached, observant. These qualities might be positive traits if not for the sense we get that Éowyn is cold. Something is not right about her quiet watchfulness. We understand from Tolkien’s few yet masterful words that she sees much, thinks much, and says little. Even her movement is slow.
From further reading, we come to know that Éowyn has indeed seen much - most of it not pleasant. Her parents are long dead, orphaning her and her older brother Éomer when she was but seven years old. Their uncle, king Théoden, raised them alongside their cousin prince Théodred. But Théoden falls under Saruman’s sway as Gríma Wormtongue infiltrates the Golden Hall with his subtlety and lies. The king deteriorates to a shadow of his former self, held captive under a spell of dark despair. Gríma takes control of the court, whispering falsehoods in the king’s ear and working behind the scenes to execute Rohan’s fall. He even banishes Éomer, the king’s loyal son and heir after Théodred falls.
All this Éowyn, princess and White Lady of Rohan, has witnessed. In the year the story takes place, T.A. 3019, she is only 24 years old (I happen to be 24 while writing this…). A young woman, bereft of her parents, navigating the intrigues of a corrupted court while her brother is often away at war and her father-figure slowly fades to a hollowed-out shell of a man…that takes a woman’s heart to dark places.
Her fears run deep. At seven years old, watching her mother waste away from grief and a loss of will after her father’s death…I can’t imagine what that does to a child’s heart. Her mother didn’t love her enough to live for her. Her older brother spent much of his time away, fighting for Rohan, and then is banished. Her cousin dies the same death as her father. Her country falters. Her uncle took her in, but withdraws from her as Wormtongue’s mind poison overtakes his mind. She waits for him to overcome his passive inaction…but he does not. And she suffers as a result. She stares down a slow, painful and apathetic death: in her country, her uncle, and herself.
All Éowyn’s life, she has been abandoned. Forgotten. Left in the background, her duty, love and loyalty seemingly forgotten. That would wound anyone’s pride. Especially a woman, who is uniquely gifted for relational connection. Éowyn fears neither death nor pain. She fears a cage. To be alone and separated. All those whom she loves have left her, in one way or another. She thus remains without security, peace nor love. Isolated. Unwanted.
The movie emphasizes Wormtongue’s predatory, twisted pursuit of Éowyn. Not only does she have to deal with her brother’s absence and uncle’s weakness, but she must resist the perverted advances of a man who is out to destroy everything she holds dear. Movie Wormtongue perfectly identifies the desolate maiden as he weaves a dark web of seductive manipulation around her lonely heart.
"Oh, but you are alone. Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you: a hutch to trammel some wild thing in? So fair, so cold…like a morning of pale Spring still clinging to Winter's chill. "
We can see the echoes of the book quote at the beginning of this section in Wormtongue’s words. Éowyn is beautiful, yes…but her beauty is subdued, hollowed, not yet fully ripened. She is still a girl, not yet fully a woman. She cannot fully unveil herself because of the darkness she has witnessed. Hence the description: “fair and cold.” There is something unsettling and poignantly sad about her. Her beauty is great: long hair “like a river of gold,” fair face, “slender and tall…in her white robe girt with silver.” Not only fair, but “strong…stern as steel…a daughter of kings.” Éowyn is no delicate flower. She has grown up in a fierce, warrior culture. Her strength is undeniable, yet it is a feminine strength. She is noble, steadfast and deeply loyal, every inch a princess, yet darkness preys upon her, clouds her mind and numbs her heart.
Peter Jackson actally took the above quote from Gandalf in the books, shortened it, and gave it to Wormtongue. Book Gandalf utters these lines in The Return of the King, while Éowyn languishes in the Houses of Healing. He explains to Aragorn and Éomer that Éowyn has been unhappy and cold long before the Witch-King strikes her down. I could not describe her situation more perfectly than Tolkien himself:
“My friend,” said Gandalf, “you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him falling into a mean dishonoured dotage; and her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on.
“Think you that Wormtongue had poison only for Théoden’s ears? Dotard! What is the house of Eorl but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among their dogs? Have you not heard those words before? Saruman spoke them, the teacher of Wormtongue. Though I do not doubt that Wormtongue at home wrapped their meaning in terms more cunning. My lord, if your sister's love for you, and her will still bent to her duty, had not restrained her lips; you might have heard even such things as these escape them. But who knows what she spoke to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in about her, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?”
-The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, p. 867
Or how about this quote, wherein Aragorn describes his first impression of Éowyn?
“For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her. When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me that I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel. Or was it, maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, bitter-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken, soon to fall and die?”
-The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, p. 866
How utterly tragic. Such few, well-chosen words wreck the reader’s heart, do they not?
Family gone, country falling, no lovers except an insidious snake…It’s no surprise that Éowyn feels powerless. Trapped. Hopeless. Any heart would freeze under such conditions.
The Valley of Shadow
One of the trilogy’s major themes is the sojourn through the valley of shadow. This valley comes in many forms. Perhaps it is literal, such as Gandalf’s descent into the chasm of Khazad-Dum, or Mordor itself. Other times, it is more figurative or internal. Éowyn experiences the latter: a darkening of her mind and heart as her external circumstances worsen.
Every human heart experiences this. Whether internal or external, something happens in a person’s life that brings darkness and suffering. The theme runs through the story of the human condition. For example: Dante begins Canto I of his Divine Comedy by finding himself (and all humanity by extension):
“Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
Which in the very thought renews the fear.So bitter is it, death is little more.”
In John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, Christian must pass through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Edmund in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe wanders wrongfully into the White Witch’s dark and ice-cold castle, where she casts him into a dungeon and he must there reflect upon his bitter mistakes.
Every hero faces the valley, a low point in their journey where hope seems lost, evil triumphant, and despair the only option. Every human faces this same darkness. So often, what haunts us and threatens to keep us in this place is our fear.
For Éowyn, she fears, above all else, to experience the same fate as her uncle. To be trapped, left behind to waste away with no meaning or purpose to her life. That is her valley of shadow. She would rather ride to certain death and go out with a bang than meet a long, slow and meaningless end. “So bitter is it, death is little more” indeed.
She sees little to no purpose in her life so far, refusing to stay behind in the house like a serving-woman. She sense she was made for greater adventure, for something more than this.
Now, this does speak to one of Éowyn’s blind spots. Just because she sees no point in her unremarkable, dutiful existence…that does not mean what she sees is the truth. On the contrary: as Aragorn tells her, there is great honor in the small deeds done at home with nobody there to see or praise.
“A time may come soon," said he, "when none will return. Then there will be need of valour without renown, for none shall remember the deeds that are done in the last defence of your homes. Yet the deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised."
-The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, p. 784
Aragorn is right here. Nothing about his words is sexist or belittling. But Éowyn is too lost in bitterness (understandably so) at this point in her life to understand what he means. She rejects it, seeing only condescension and misunderstanding in his words. There is immeasurable worth and adventure in the mundane, the small and the forgotten. Great deeds are not great because they are seen: in fact, one of the core themes of Tolkien’s work is the immeasurable importance of small, ordinary, humble, unseen acts. They are what really keep evil at bay. Everything about the hobbits shows us this truth. But Éowyn is not yet able to grasp it. She has been so beaten down by bitterness and depression that she can’t see past her fears. Until she undergoes her own trials, passes through her own fire, she will not be able to accept Aragorn’s well-intentioned advice.
Our heroine is lost in her dark wood. The air is heavy, the shadows deep, the briars thick. She is alone, desolate. Longing for a change, but unable to attain it. This is where Éowyn begins. It’s where many of us women find ourselves as well, at the start of our heart’s journey to true heroism, which is true virtue. The shadowy, wooded valley is filled with unknowns and dangers, temptations and trials. But it is the necessary - the only - path to take. We begin in the valley, but we cannot remain there. To remain there is death. Only by journeying through the valley, bravely and wisely, will we be transformed into true heroes. It’s no different for Éowyn.
Most of us probably haven’t experienced the same tragic external circumstances as Éowyn. But even if our lives look put together on the outside…many women are aching on the inside in the exact same way. We long for relational connection. To be wanted, valued, important. For adventure and meaning. But our hearts are trapped. Lost in the darkly wooded valley, imprisoned in the high tower. We have been hurt before, and we don’t want to deal with that pain again. So we harden our hearts to ice. Like Éowyn, we nurse bitterness and hopelessness. What is inherently good, such as duty and giving ourselves for another, turns sour in our eyes. We turn to solutions that we think will give us meaning…but deep down, they only aggravate the wound. Our hearts are barren. Nothing grows. Whether we admit it or not, it is the truth.
Who knows what you, my dear sister, have spoken to the darkness, in the bitter watches of the night?
I know I’ve spoken many things. I’ve wandered the valley of shadow just as you have.
If you’re still in the valley, if layers of ice linger around your broken heart, I encourage you to dive into Éowyn’s story. Get to know her. Let her story speak to yours.
And stick around. This is only part One of Three. Éowyn does not remain the Desolate Maiden…and neither must we.
“But seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you as well.” -Matthew 6:33
-Laura
Sources used to aid me in this series:
Éowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan - Epic Character History by Men of the West
Strong Women Done Right: Éowyn by Master Samwise (he says everything far better and more eloquently than I ever could)
