Letters from Faramir
Author's Letter to the Reader
Stories > Alcardilme's Page > First > Previous
Another author on another board wrote tongue-in-cheek letters from
Boromir to Faramir as he progressed along the journey with the
Fellowship. The letters began in Rivendell and finished on Amon Hen.
They were witty and delightful and I read them voraciously, being a
Boromir fan.
However, when the last letter was written from Amon Hen, it was funny –
yet incredibly chilling. Boromir stopped the letter by saying he must
get away or he would go mad. And then, of course, he does for a brief
moment - go mad that is. I was stunned by the impact of 'knowing' that
he had just written the letter and then was dead. It was
heart-breakingly real. I was reading it at work and cried a little at
my keyboard and then had to wipe my tears and get back to work.
But on the way home, the letter came to mind again and I broke down and
sobbed all the way home, thinking that I had joined Boromir in some
madness.
By the time I reached my home, I realized that I was crying over my
husband and his death and how I didn’t get to say good-bye. The letter
spoke to my heart and I felt I had to, in Faramir’s stead, reply. And
so I was going to write one or two letters.
Well, it turned into many more as I looked into the depths of my heart
and finally faced my feelings of loss and aloneness… and a bunch of
other feelings besides. My brother also had died when I was in my
thirties. He was my big brother, my love, my confidant, and I grieved
seriously when he died. I thought of Faramir and how hideous it must
have been for him, for it seemed to me, even though Tolkien writes of
Faramir being very wise, it seemed to me that the hero that he loved so
was taken from him and he would respond in like manner to what I felt.
Perhaps a totally wrong premise – but I believe the Letters came to me
to help heal me and became an opportunity to share grief with others. I
don’t know.
My daughter thinks I have made Faramir too wimpy. Perhaps I have; but
these are letters born from the pain in his heart, letters to be
hidden, letters to cry out with when he had no one to cry out to,
except his dead brother. And I hope Boromir, wherever he was at, heard
them.
Thank you for reading.
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