Settings function as more than backdrops in this novel—they embody the themes of decline, resilience, corruption, and renewal. Tolkien’s geography mirrors the moral landscape, with each place carrying symbolic weight and the map itself underscoring the vast scale of war and the return home.
The Beacon Hills highlight alliance and urgency, as Gondor depends on others for survival:
Pippin became drowsy again and paid little attention to Gandalf telling him of the customs of Gondor, and how the Lord of the City had beacons built on the tops of outlying hills along both borders of the great range, and maintained posts at these points where fresh horses were always in readiness to bear his errand-riders to Rohan in the North, or to Belfalas in the South. ‘It is long since the beacons of the North were lit,’ he said; ‘and in the ancient days of Gondor they were not needed, for they had the Seven Stones.’ Pippin stirred uneasily.
The beacons symbolize both grandeur and decline: they embody coordination and preparedness but also the loss of greater powers, since fire signals replace the lost palantíri. Pippin’s unease reflects Gondor’s fragility and dependence on others.
By contrast, the Grey Havens serve as a quiet shore of farewell, marking the passage from struggle to peace:
And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed on into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water.
Here, setting becomes a metaphor for closure. The fragrance and song convey transcendence, while the sea voyage marks both ending and beginning. The Havens remind the reader that even in victory, there is loss, and that renewal comes with parting.
Taken together, these settings illustrate Tolkien’s symbolic use of place. From the beacons signaling fading strength and fragile alliance to the Havens embodying peace tinged with sorrow, landscapes in The Return of the King deepen the themes of decline and renewal, ensuring that geography itself carries the emotional weight of the epic.
Settings function as more than backdrops in this novel—they embody the themes of decline, resilience, corruption, and renewal. Tolkien’s geography mirrors the moral landscape, with each place carrying symbolic weight and the map itself underscoring the vast scale of war and the return home.
The Beacon Hills highlight alliance and urgency, as Gondor depends on others for survival:
Pippin became drowsy again and paid little attention to Gandalf telling him of the customs of Gondor, and how the Lord of the City had beacons built on the tops of outlying hills along both borders of the great range, and maintained posts at these points where fresh horses were always in readiness to bear his errand-riders to Rohan in the North, or to Belfalas in the South. ‘It is long since the beacons of the North were lit,’ he said; ‘and in the ancient days of Gondor they were not needed, for they had the Seven Stones.’ Pippin stirred uneasily.
The beacons symbolize both grandeur and decline: they embody coordination and preparedness but also the loss of greater powers, since fire signals replace the lost palantíri. Pippin’s unease reflects Gondor’s fragility and dependence on others.
By contrast, the Grey Havens serve as a quiet shore of farewell, marking the passage from struggle to peace:
And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed on into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water.
Here, setting becomes a metaphor for closure. The fragrance and song convey transcendence, while the sea voyage marks both ending and beginning. The Havens remind the reader that even in victory, there is loss, and that renewal comes with parting.
Taken together, these settings illustrate Tolkien’s symbolic use of place. From the beacons signaling fading strength and fragile alliance to the Havens embodying peace tinged with sorrow, landscapes in The Return of the King deepen the themes of decline and renewal, ensuring that geography itself carries the emotional weight of the epic.