“So it shall be, Your Highness”.
Indeed, a ponderous tome, containing the code of law of Pilannard Riel, was brought to the palace from the library, and a reader was named who might read them for us in a loud voice. Among the rules there listed, there was a page dedicated to gifts, stating something along the lines of:
“Foreign peoples are prone to exchange between them gifts the practical use of which is dubious, or even null, serving the only purpose to embellish and decorate, adding to what instead calls for subtraction, and pleasing and distracting those who are in need of composure and restraint. Our citizens, instead, shall be able to choose gifts fulfilling the requirements of being admirable and reputable. Such requirements are thus defined: a gift must be sober, never to flaunt wealth nor frivolity. Its function shall not be of wasting time, but earning some. It shall not be fashioned under the rule of excess, but of modesty, since excess is an enemy of well-being, whereas simplicity brings about happiness. Nor shall it be cumbersome, since any encumbrance prevents a rational application of the space a citizen might occupy. It shall not splurge extravagant shapes, nor bright colours, which are immoral in their eye-catching quality, interrupting the execution of the regular activities of a citizen. Nor shall it lead the citizen to practise useless vices, since games and frivolity lead peoples to ruin. It is questionable to make gift of furniture which is comfortable and pleasing, therefore leading the citizen to indulge lazy tendencies. It is adviced against making gift of books, except manuals teaching how to improve oneself in performing one's job, since any other book, and particularly romances concerning adventures and wonderful realms, lead the citizen's mind astray, perilously disregarding one's focus and presence of mind in everyday activities, hindering their work, or inculcating awkward pretensions. It is advised also against making gift of jewels and trinkets, in order to prevent the admiration and envy of others, both of them causing social inequality and the corruption of morals. It is furthermore disapproved to make gift of dresses the fashion, or material, of which is remarkable or extravagant...”
The list went yet on, and the more we went deeper into our reading of their rules, all the more our perplexity grew concerning the proper choice of gift to the city of Pilannard Riel, not to violate the custom of their people. A minister then interrupted our reading by exclaiming: “Milord, please, put an end to this absurd enumeration! The list is long and does not seem to end. Is it really your wish to waste the entire day in this fashion? I assume Your Majesty is wise enough to choose a gift without having to become an expert in foreign laws and custom first!”
I let him speak, then to reply: “Honourable minister, I appreciate your display of trust toward me, yet you should learn how a gift is always to be carefully chosen. It is foolish, indeed, and a cause of discomfort, to make gift of a jug to a learned man, or a book to a drunkard, as much as it is foolish to throw seeds into a panther's cage and meat into a sparrow feeder. One does not make a gift to oneself, but to others. Otherwise we would be as a surgeon bandaging their own leg instead of the patient's”.
Another minister intervened: “Sire Helewen, you speak wisely. Nonetheless, a gift must mirror the giver, in order to provide the receiver with something they lack. Otherwise, we would be like a man pouring water into the lake, or bringing leaves to the wood. A gift is all the more appreciated as long as the receiver was lacking anything similar. Therefore, rather than attempting to follow the custom of the foreign country, it would be wiser to show the foreigners a glimpse of what we solely possess, which they shall never find elsewhere nor receive from others”.
I listened carefully to that second opinion and replied: “Honourable minister, you spoke too in a reasonable and wise fashion. Nonetheless, it is also true that sometimes what is foreign and unknown to us may offend, or disturb, therefore it is not understood nor appreciated. A gift has been wisely chosen when fit to its receiver. It is unconsiderate to do as the one who tosses snowballs at a wood on fire, or lights a torch in the open air in broad daylight. What would you think of someone who donates a comb to a bald person, or a ring to one who is handless, or a carpet to the homeless, a saddle to one lacking a horse, or a painting to a blindman? Would the giver be respectable and worthy of acclaim? Or, rather, laughable and deplorable?”
The second minister fell back upon his chair, silently nodding.
Here, then, is what I choose to do: I commanded a shovel be brought to me, one of those farmers use to dig the ground, and had a master carver be summoned, who was capable of realizing the most detailed carvings into wood. As soon as that was done, I explained them: “The citizens of Pilannard Riel love simple, fanciless items which are useful and sober, helping workers carry out their duty and letting them spare some time. Nonetheless, I wish this shovel to be rendered different from any other, being characterized by the art, and bearing the unmistakeable mark of the mastery of our people. That is why I had a master carver being summoned. I wish him to carve the handle of the shovel according to his skills, encarving there an inscription in the fair characters of the alphabet of Lothriel. The writing shall recite the words: 'Unflinching, I put off'. Since the shovel is similar in everything to the citizens of Pilannard Riel: without ever pausing, they are always busy putting off the excess”.
The assembly of ministers, after keeping a little while silent, bursted off in a roaring laughter, eventually to end up, as soon as they managed to get quiet once more, praising my choice. One of them rose from his seat and said: “Lord Helewen, our excellent Sire, your wisdom is great! I believe I am talking in everybody's name here, in saying how pleased, and immensely thankful to the Gods, we are to have a keen, perceptive sovereign such as you. The foreigners shall not be able to keep from envying us”.
The two speakers
CHAPTER VII
There was another issue to face at that time... two philosophers, renowned and important in Lothriel, came before me, in the audience hall. Both of them were due to give a public speech concerning a difficult, profound subject, and each of them should flaunt his own wisdom, disserting and debating such questions as animate a learned person's mind.
The two speakers were called Vanlimir and Tiagbaro. Their public speeches would be given under the great dome of the Courts, on the southern side of the royal palace. Now, what the philosophers were complaining about, was that none of them would allow the other to have the final say in the occasion of their confrontation. Some may think it a trivial matter, but the two speakers thought their last word to be as the foundation stone to the builder, the harvest to the farmer, the sieve to the gold seeker.
Well, here is how Vanlimir spoke that day before me: “Milord, magnificent Helewen, you know too well how the rhetorical art is as powerful and influential, in a country filled with keen minds and wise souls as ours, as weapons, or a nice feast, are to Barbarians. In a Kingdom the arsenals of which have long been silent, and the tables are always spread with food, it is our minds that are ready to fight, and their battle is fought by pen and speech. Victory or defeat is not measured according to the number of the fallen who are prey to the carrion-crows, but by the agreement, or denial, by the readers, or listeners. You also know, my worthiest Sire, how an undeniable advantage in such a word-fight, where the winner is decreed by persuasion, is given to the person who has the last say, since, as a strategist from a tower-top, that person is allowed a view over the whole battlefield, meaning a chance to plan his final attack. On the contrary, the adversary is like the man who has to fight in the melee: amid such a mess of weapons and clamour, he cannot think straight about his next move, since he has to follow his guts. If, sometimes, his instincts may guide him well, it is also true that such things are rarer upon the battlefield of eloquence. A good speaker, indeed, should doubt his own guts and passions, as much as he would the idea of venturing through the woods at night, instead to chase, as a hat stolen away by a sudden gusp of wind, the sublime supremacy of the long-pondered speech”.
I invited the philosopher to go on, and he did not wait before doing so, not even a second: “Now, the thing is, many esteemed thinkers live within the fair Lothriel of the bright domes, and yet, among these people, the here-present Tiagbaro and I are thought by many to be two of the keenest and most authoritative. How could one of us hand over to the other what any speaker craves as much as one late at night desires the sweet comfort of a soft bed?
You shall know, Sire, we wish to entrust you with the final decision, and yet the one who is not accorded the last say shall feel offended and diminished”.
Before issuing my pronouncement, I asked Tiagbaro whether he wished to add or specify any other word concerning the statement of his esteemed colleague, and he replied:
“Milord, thank you for the attention that is given to us. Actually I would like to clarify how, in my opinion, it is not the last word what matters the most. If only it was up to me, I would not even ask for it. If today I am here, in order to ask you to have the last say in the public confrontation I shall have with my colleague, it is because he asked for it, assuming it is the meter according to which the worth of the speaker to whom it is allowed would be measured. As long as he puts such an assumption as the basis of his complaint, I cannot avoid coming here as well, advancing the same request. Otherwise, I shall be doing nothing more than conceding an advantage to proud Vanmilir's pretence to be the best speaker among us. Therefore, my admirable Sire, I also leave the matter into your wise hands”.
The matter was complicated. I certainly could not pronounce myself lightly. Therefore I dismissed the two complainants, asking them to return the next day in order to hear my sentence. Once the hour of our second audience had come, I thus expressed my intention: “I considered thoroughly the case concerning your public speech, and I decree that... none of you shall have the final say”.
“How can it be, Your Highness? Would you take our right of expression from us? Or do you mean to assign a third speaker to us, someone more skilled?”
“No, no, do not worry. I do not wish to take anything from you, nor to intervene in any fashion, and the adding of a third speaker even less so. Instead, I have simply realized how between two minds whose brilliance is unquestionable, such as both of you, I do not wish to forbid anything nor to set limitations unto any of your rights, thereby deciding myself who the winner is. Therefore I give you my permission to speak as long as you wish or feel like it. None of you, excellent speakers, shall give the other the final say, unless he so wishes. Naturally, the audience shall be free to leave as soon as they see fit, if they deem to have heard enough. But the two of you may continue to debate as long as you wish, and if anybody has anything yet to add, the other may well reply, and the former refute him, without any limitation of sorts. When, eventually, you are both persuaded to have spoken everything that might have been told, being both satisfied by the outcome of your confrontation, you shall come and inform myself. Thus I rule”.