[Lalwendë]

Originally Posted by Lhunardawen

With these words, Saruman exerted such a great effort for it was no mere Man he was tempting. With his offer of friendship and counsel comes the choice for Gandalf to forsake his task the way Saruman did. It came as a surprise to the Men around, even to Theoden, that Gandalf declined.

When Saruman speaks to Gandalf he does seem to have to exert more effort into it. Perhaps this hints again at the use of osanwe and that Gandalf would be all too well aware of the need to exercise unwill, to close his mind to these words. In his final struggle with Gandalf he seems to put all his might into his words:

So great was the power that Saruman exerted in this last effort that none that stood within hearing were unmoved. But now the spell was wholly different. They heard the gentle remonstrance of a kindly king with an erring but much-loved minister. But they were shut out, listening at a door to words not meant for them: ill-mannered children or stupid servants overhearing the elusive discourse of their elders, and wondering how it would affect their lot. Of loftier mould these two were made: reverend and wise. It was inevitable that they should make alliance. Gandalf would ascend into the tower, to discuss deep things beyond their comprehension in the high chambers of Orthanc. The door would be closed, and they would be left outside, dismissed to await allotted work or punishment. Even in the mind of Theoden the thought took shape, like a shadow of doubt: "He will betray us; he will go--we shall be lost."

Then Gandalf laughed. The fantasy vanished like a puff of smoke.

In this instance everyone listening is held under the control of what Saruman says, to the extent that they cannot really hear or understand his words. It makes me think that if you were to hear this yourself it might even seem as if Saruman were speaking in another tongue. I like the image that Tolkien uses here, of being shut out on the other side of a door. Those listening feel as though they are eavesdropping and such an endeavour rarely brings the listener the full story, just as happened to Sam when he was eavesdroping on Frodo and Gandalf at Bag End. The listeners cannot comprehend what is said so a 'shadow of doubt' forms in their minds and would possibly remain had Gandalf not broken the spell.

Originally Posted by Child

The palantiri are not inherently evil objects, like the ruling ring or the other rings that fell under its dominion. Yet it often seems dangerous for a mortal to get near any 'magical' object crafted by Elven hands, whether or not the original intent was ill.

Originally Posted by davem

Perhaps its more a question of 'right'. Only certain individuals hava a 'right' to use 'magical' implements. Certainly we have Aragorn's warning in reference to Anduril:'Death shall come to any man that draws Elendil's sword save Elendil's heir.' The question arises as to whether Saruman himself had a 'right' to use the Palantir. I wonder whether there is more to this issue of 'right' - what constitued such a 'right' & how was it conferrred & by whom?

I think that the answer could lie in intent. The only object portrayed as inherently dangerous is the One Ring, and possibly the Nine to Men yet presumably not to other races. Other objects are not obviously inherently evil, they just seem to have been used for evil intent, or even simply the wrong intent, as with Pippin and the palantir. Tolkien may be saying that to dabble with things without a clear mind and a clear purpose would and could be dangerous, but I don't think he is saying that every such object is inherently evil.

The interesting thing here is how would anyone know what was and what was not evil? And if it was not evil then how would anyone know how to use an object correctly? If you saw a gold ring in a cave you would never suspect it as evil, just as if you might not think there was anything wrong with playing with Anduril if you saw it propped against a wall outside Meduseld.

The palantiri were not made with evil intent, so I would say that to use them with evil intent would be to turn their very nature on its head and risk evil coming from their use. To use them with goodness of heart, which Pippin was not doing, should mean that they would react and respond in the correct manner. If the weapons found in the Barrow were made with the intention of doing great or good deeds, then to use them in this way should also protect the bearer from any possibility of being harmed by their 'magic'.