Season 1 of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power promised a balrog, and while the tragic sacrifice of King Durin in the mithril-rich depths beneath Khazad-dĂ»m might have been brief, it was certainly spectacular. But thereâs one thing it didnât do, and thatâs give Rings of Powerâs answer to a simple question: Can balrogs fly?
At this point, you might wonder if Iâm joking. Of course balrogs can fly; they have wings. Theyâve always had wings. The one in the Peter Jackson movies has wings. But what if I told you that when Peter Jackson and crew chose to depict the balrog with wings, they were making a somewhat controversial choice?
What if I told you that the question of whether balrogs have wings at all has been vexing Tolkien scholars for decades?
The source of the problem is that all of the language that Tolkien used to refer to the âwingsâ of balrogs and their âflightâ is open to interpretation.
The first description of a balrogâs form comes in the Moria sequence of The Fellowship of the Ring. And the first reference to it having âwingsâ comes after several paragraphs that simply describe it as an enormous, maned, man-shaped figure, wielding a sword in one hand and a whip in the other, obscured in fire, shadow, and smoke. And in this first mention, Tolkien explicitly doesnât say that the balrog has wings. He says the darkness around it looks like wings: âthe shadow about it reached out like two vast wings,â as the balrog squares up with Gandalf on the bridge of Khazad-dĂ»m.
The next reference, two paragraphs later, describes the balrogâs fire dying down, and the shadow around it increasing, until âsuddenly it drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall.â In isolation, this language is more literal. But taken with the first reference, it can be argued that Tolkien is simply elegantly referring to the previous simile, without intending a literal meaning â which is a generally observable pattern in the descriptive writing through his novelistic work.
A few paragraphs later, the bridge crumbles under Gandalfâs staff, and the balrog falls into the abyss. Tolkien writes: âits shadow plunged down and vanished.â Which raises other good arguments for flightless balrogs: If the balrog could fly, why couldnât it fly up out of the chasm? Why would Gandalf have even tried smashing the bridge under its feet in the first place, if he knew it was capable of flight?
And not to get too deep into textual analysis, but suffice to say, for every time Tolkien referred to balrogs in The Silmarillion as âflying with winged speedâ or âpassing overâ a great distance, there is a counter-example of him using âflightâ simply to mean âescapeâ or referring to whole land-bound armies as âpassing overâ a country. And there are many references, in Tolkienâs early writings that include balrogs, to balrogs being part of ground-bound armies, of the powers of evil containing no flying monsters to match the Great Eagles, etc.
But on the other hand, The Silmarillion was published posthumously, as compiled from Tolkienâs most complete writings, not necessarily his most up to date. And we could keep going around in circles in this way for hours.
The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, a show that seems to want to align itself visually with the Peter Jackson movies, has a balrog that looks a dead ringer for the one in Jacksonâs Moria, complete with curved horns, a skull-like face, and great winged appendages covered in cascading smoke. But can it fly? The show has not yet clearly put a foot down in that arena: We donât see it fly in its brief appearance, but we do see it fall, flapping its wings in either an unsuccessful attempt to rise into the air or in a successful attempt to control its descent. So it too is open to interpretation, at least for now.
People will debate whether balrogs have wings and can fly until humanity is a fairy tale in books written by rabbits, because there are compelling textual arguments for both sides and the ârealâ answer will never be known. Itâs the âIs a hot dog a sandwich?â of Tolkien studies/fandom, the âDo you say it gif or jif?â Itâs a question thatâs fun to consider, so long as you take it with the weight of a Buddhist koan, and not the greatest thread in the history of forums, locked by a moderator after 12,239 pages of heated debate.
The most open truth is that Tolkien wrote a lot of descriptions of balrogs that could be interpreted as giving them wings and the ability to fly, but he also never explicitly stated that they have wings and can fly, not in any material that he himself saw all the way to publication. Both sides are potentially right and potentially wrong in equal measure.
You can even hold both ideas simultaneously, like this: âYeah, the textual support is limited in certain ways, but, in all earnestness, the wings look cool as hell, and itâs all made-up fantastical mythopoeic opera anyway, so why not? The balrog in The Fellowship of the Ring isnât described as having horns, either, and they look great. Maybe the chasm under the bridge of Khazad-dĂ»m was too narrow for the balrogâs wings to work?â
Anyway, thatâs my take on it. Now to take a nice leisurely sip of this delicious water, and look at the comments sectionâŠ