Crystal Clear Tolkien

Transcript: CCT#5

silime@gmail.com — Wed, 24 Jan 2007 22:34:00 GMT

Coming at you live from the ruins of Thangorodrim, this is Crystal Clear Tolkien.

This is Silime. Welcome to Crystal Clear Tolkien. Listener Robb W. sent me an email asking if I would address the topic of the Balrog of Moria. While I would have loved to do an episode solely on that Balrog, I found it positively impossible giving how little Tolkien wrote about that particular character. Instead, I present this podcast which addresses not only that Balrog, but all Balrogs in Tolkien's world of Middle-earth.

Let's begin with the observation that 98% of all essays on the subject will point out: Balrogs are fallen Maiar twisted by their servitude to Melkor into these demonic beasts. After all, this is what it says about Balrogs in The Silmarillion(1). Some people, many people, say that's the beginning and the end of the topic. But, as with most things we look at on Crystal Clear Tolkien, there's more to it than just that. There are, in fact, quite a number of references to the Balrogs having been creations of Melkor's, and not simply perversions of existing forms(2), and that this creation occurred as early as the first Year of the Trees(3).

Melkor, like all of the Ainur, was a creator spirit. We know he had the ability to create things before he rebelled, and we know he was the greatest and first of all the Ainur. I'll be creating an entire podcast solely about Melkor, so I won't go too much into him here. The point is that there is nothing that states that as a result of his rebellion, Eru removed, stripped, or even limited any of Melkor's powers or abilities. So there is no reason why the Balrogs could not have been original creations of his. In my opinion, what finally appeared in The Silmarillion was a bit of unintentional allegory creeping in -- a play on the idea that the devil of Christian faith cannot create, only destroy or pervert. Religious themes in Tolkien will also be looked at in depth in a future podcast.

I'll come back to the question of the origin of Balrogs a little later. First I want to talk a little bit about another somewhat controversial aspect of Balrogs, that being how many were there? In The History of Middle-Earth: Volume Eleven, The War of the Jewels and in several other places throughout the Histories, Tolkien states that during the NÃrnaeth Arnoediad Melkor unleashed a thousand Balrogs(4). We also know that not one Balrog was killed in that battle. How do we know this? Because in History of Middle-Earth Volume Two, The Book of Lost Tales 2, Tolkien expressly states as much when Rog and his House attack the host of Balrogs laying siege to Gondolin.

"... [T]he number of Balrogs that perished was a marvel and dread to the hosts of Melko, for ere that day never had any of the Balrogs been slain by the hand of Elves or Men."(5)

However, that same book describes the Balrogs existing only in hundreds. We know for certain that during the fall of Gondolin, at least fifty Balrogs were killed, probably many more because we're never given an idea just how many Rog's House slew (and hell, we're given the distinct impression that Rog and his House laid waste to those Balrogs before the demons managed to get into Gondolin). But it is stated that Ecthelion slew three Balrogs with swords and then tumbled into the King's Fountain with Gothmog; Glorfindel killed one when he died; Tuor took out five; and the King's Host killed at least forty(6).

The real controversy surrounding the number of Balrogs has to do with a note Tolkien made on a typescript copy of The Annals of Aman that stated there should never be assumed to have been more than seven Balrogs(7). So how do we resolve this obvious contradiction? Quite easily, actually, when you realise that Melkor made Balrogs twice. The initial brood of Balrogs were created as it states in The History of Middle-Earth: Volume Ten, Morgoth's Ring in the first Year of the Trees. But, these Balrogs were not the same as the ones in the NÃrnaeth or sent against Gondolin. In Year of the Trees 1099, just before Melkor was imprisoned and chained the first time, he sent his Balrogs against the Valar in a last ditch save-his-ass effort, and ManwÃ wiped them out. Every last one of them. ManwÃ was pissed(8) (and I am not over dramatizing his pissiness).

After Melkor is unchained, though, despite swearing oaths of fealty up one side and down the other, he nevertheless goes right back out, rebuilds Angband, and starts making Balrogs again and adds Orcs to his bag of tricks(9). Now this has been a rather large digression, but I think it can answer elegantly the question of where did Balrogs come from. Given the quantity of Balrogs that we see in the late First Age, I find it difficult to accept there were that many Maiar loyal to Melkor by that time, let alone whether or not that many Maiar ever even existed in EÃ.

So, as Monk would say, here's what I think happened. This is only my opinion, and you can take it with a grain of salt, but I believe it incorporates both theories quite nicely without having to deal with retconning anything.

When Melkor initially fled to the East, he was accompanied by perhaps a dozen Maiar -- Sauron among them. Somewhere around half of these Maiar became the initial host of the Balrogs, their forms having become twisted and fell as a result of the evil intentions in their spirits. These Balrogs, though, were obliterated by ManwÃ just before the defeat of Melkor. Following his release, Melkor sought to recreate these creatures as part of his army. These later Balrogs did not possess the strength and power of the Maiar, but were more like cheap copies that could be produced in great numbers at the expense of quality. These Balrogs -- those that survived Gondolin, anyway -- were destroyed in the destruction of Thangorodrim, with the notable exception of the Balrog of Moria.

Now that I have taken on two of the biggest controversies surrounding the Balrogs, let's talk about another one. What did Balrogs look like? There's quite a few things we can all agree on regarding their appearance: they were creatures primarily of fire and shadow(10), they primarily wielded whips of flame(11), they had claws of steel(12) as well as fangs of steel(13), and they wore iron armour(14). What is not so agreed upon is, number one, how large they were and number two, whether or not they possessed wings.

In Lord of the Rings, the Balrog of Moria was described as "... A dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater...."(15) This is supported by a pencilled note on the manuscript of this section which says "It seemed to be of man's shape, but it's form could not be plainly discerned. It felt larger than it looked."(16) It's further supported that this Balrog was typical of the size by various references to the Balrogs during the fall of Gondolin. For instance, Ecthelion was able to wrap his legs around Gothmog's thighs. If Balrogs were, indeed, dozens of feet tall, they would have no need to climb on drakes or fly on dragons in order to enter Gondolin, and forty of them couldn't have piled into the King's Square near the end of the sack. When Glorfindel strikes with his sword during his own battle with a Balrog, he is able to reach the Balrog's shoulder. (Though here there is a contradiction of everything we know about a Balrog's size, for Tolkien states that Glorfindel's Balrog was nigh on twice his own height(17).) I don't want any of you to get the impression that the Balrog of Moria was some kind of mutant midget Balrog; all Balrogs from the First Age, after Melkor's release, were the same size, somewhere between, let's say, seven and twelve feet tall, and that most were roughly a little over the typical man-height. Glorfindel's Balrog seems to be notable in its size, since he's the only Balrog we are even given a distinct height reference for.

The power they had, and the shadow around them, though, gave the sense that they were larger than they actually were. A feeling of looming intimidation surrounded them. Another draft of Fellowship of the Ring described this as "terror seemed to go before it"(18). In any case, it seems highly unlikely they approached the size of Peter Jackson's Balrog in Moria (side note, I sometimes wonder if PJ ever read any of Tolkien's works other than Lord of the Rings before taking on this project).

Okay, onto wings. I'm going to state up front that I don't believe Balrogs have wings, and that's going to colour my evidence. If you disagree with me, I have no problem with that, make your own podcast and I'll listen to it. Again, my evidence is seated primarily in what occurred during the fall of Gondolin. If Balrogs had wings, they would have no need to ride the dragons or climb the drakes in order to enter the city. They would have just flown in themselves. I also don't buy the story that they had vestigial wings that didn't work; it goes against everything we know about Creation in Middle-earth to believe that such appendages would have been created without purpose. I've read all the quotes that wingers point to in order to support their point of view, but I just keep coming back to the simple question of if Balrogs have wings, why don't we ever see them fly?

And, believe me, they had plenty of opportunity to demonstrate their abilities. When Glorfindel fought his Balrog, the creature merely leapt from rock to rock and, in the end, fell to its death; why not fly to safety? Why not pick off the Elves as they ran from the air? I just don't buy that because the word 'wings' is mention in The Fellowship of the Ring in relation to the Balrog of Moria that it was referring to literal wings. In fact, the quote is "... [T]he shadow about it reached out like two vast wings."(19) That, my friends, is called a simile. You can tell because it uses the word 'like'. This does not say that the Balrog has wings. It says that the shadows around the Balrog spread out around it like wings. Only one creature of Melkor's was ever specifically stated to have been given wings, and those were the dragons.

And dragons are, say it with me, another show.

So we've looked at Balrogs as a race in general up to this point. Now I want to look at them a little more specifically, especially since Robb W. asked about a very particular Balrog. Namely, the Balrog of Moria. And I will talk about this Balrog, what little there is to be found about it... in a moment.

First, though, I want to talk about another Balrog. One we've mentioned before in this podcast, but one I want to go into more detail about. That's Gothmog, Lord of the Balrogs, high-captain of Angband. Originally, Gothmog was intended to be Melkor's son(20). (Interesting note is that Gothmog is also the only Balrog ever assigned gender.) This, of course, was discarded at the same time as all other references to the Valar having children. Gothmog, however, retained his high station, if not his origin.

We know that Gothmog was not one of the original Balrogs, or we can at least presume this since ManwÃ wiped out all the original Balrogs before the coming of the sun. Going by the theory I put for before, it's unlikely that Gothmog was a Maia, unless he was simply another Maia that fled with Melkor and hid from the Valar as Sauron did. Case can be made either way, and I am not going to pick one. This is one thing Silime does not have an opinion on; note it on your calendars.

Gothmog was a badass. In addition to the who-knows-how-many Elves who fell before him, we know he took down three of the greatest. FÃanor, Fingon, and Ecthelion, though I am loathe to give Gothmog the last one. I believe Ecthelion chose to sacrifice himself, not that Gothmog killed him.

It's interesting to note that Gothmog is the only Balrog we see who speaks, in that he gives orders to Melkor's host at Gondolin. This is in direct contradiction to a statement Tolkien makes in one of his letters that Balrogs do not speak, laugh, sneer, or make any sort of vocal sound whatsoever(21). However, in addition to Gothmog, there are examples in both The Fellowship of the Ring and The History of Middle-Earth Volume Three, The Lays of Belariand of the Balrogs vocalizing.

Additionally, there is some evidence that Gothmog was not necessarily unique in his speech ability, though we are not shown so explicitly. In The History of Middle-Earth Volume Three, The Lays of Belariand, we are introduced to Lungorthin, another Balrog lord(22). This, in addition to references later in that volume of Balrog captains leading bands of Orcs, gives the indication that there was a hierarchy among the Balrogs, something that hardly makes sense among creatures with no vocal communication skills.

Which brings us, at long last, to the answer to the actual question Robb W. had asked -- what's the skinny on the Balrog of Moria? As I said, there isn't a whole lot written specifically about this Balrog, but here's what we do know.

After the ruin of Thangorodrim, the Balrogs were believed to have been destroyed utterly. However, the Balrog of Moria escaped this fate, and hid beneath the Misty Mountains for thousands of years. It's possible that more than one Balrog slipped out this way, but whether they did or not, Tolkien does say that by the time the Fellowship pass through Moria, this Balrog is the last(23). Possibly, this is because it lay so long hidden beneath the mountains. We know that the Mines of Moria were active for quite some time before the Balrog was unleashed. It wasn't until Third Age 1980 that the Balrog drove the Dwarves out and killed, among others, Durin and NÃin(24). The most plausible explanation for this is given numerous times throughout the Histories, being that the Balrog had buried itself deep within the mountains and the Dwarves delved too deeply in their search for mithril that they uncovered it.

Beyond that, we really have no other information, save that Gandalf was the one who at the last slew the beast, ending the Balrog race forever.

I hope this answers your question, Robb, as well as offering plenty of information on the Balrogs as a whole.

You can visit the Crystal Clear Tolkien blog for transcripts and citations at http://silime.libsyn.com. Remember, if you have comments or questions about this episode, or if you have a question about Middle-Earth that you'd like me to address on a future episode, then please drop me an email at silime@gmail.com. That's S-I-L-I-M-E at gmail dot com.

Crystal Clear Tolkien is a proud member of the Lord of the Rings Radio Network. Visit us online at http://www.lotrradio.com.

Until next time, I'm Silime and this is Crystal Clear Tolkien. Namarie.

References

1. The Silmarillion, Valaquenta : Of the Enemies, pg31
2. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Ten, Morgoth's Ring, The Later Quenta Silmarillion (1), pg159
3. Ibid., The Annals of Aman, pg70
4. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Eleven, The War of the Jewels, The Grey Annals pg74
5. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Two, The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin, pg180
6. Ibid., pg214
7. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Eleven, The War of the Jewels, The Grey Annals, pg134
8. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Ten, Morgoth's Ring, The Annals of Aman, pg75
9. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Five, The Road and Other Writings, The Later Annals of Valinor/The Later Annals of Beleriand, pg135, 138
10. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., Fellowship of the Ring, The Bridge of Khazad-dÃm, pg321-22
11. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Two, The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin , pg170
12. Ibid., pg170
13. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Three, The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of Leithian, pg351
14. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Two, The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin , pg214
15. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., Fellowship of the Ring, The Bridge of Khazad-dÃm, pg321
16. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Seven, The Treason Of Isengard, The Bridge, pg199
17. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Two, The Book of Lost Tales 2, The Fall of Gondolin , pg194
18. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Seven, The Treason Of Isengard, The Bridge, pg197
19. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., Fellowship of the Ring, The Bridge of Khazad-dÃm, pg322
20. History of Middle-Earth: Volume One, The Book of Lost Tales 1, Coming of the Valar, pg98
21. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter 210, pg274
22. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Three, The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of the Children of HÃrin, pg117, 123
23. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter 144, pg180
24. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, The Heirs of Elendil, pg222

Crystal Clear Tolkien #5

silime@gmail.com — Wed, 24 Jan 2007 22:31:00 GMT

A discussion on Balrogs.

Transcript: CCT#4

silime@gmail.com — Mon, 15 Jan 2007 16:31:00 GMT

Coming at you live from the middle of the Barrow-Downs, this is Crystal Clear Tolkien.

This is Silime. Welcome to Crystal Clear Tolkien. A listener named Justin sent me an email asking that I do a podcast about the elusive and troubling character Tom Bombadil. This was actually a really difficult request, and unfortunately, there is no easy answer. But, there are several points I can raise that I hope will inspire you to draw your own conclusions based on what little we do know.

The question of Bombadil is one that has been addressed by a number of scholars over the years since the publication of Lord of the Rings. There have been many suppositions as to his nature. The difficulty in identifying the proper one is that it was Tolkien's intent to leave Tom an enigma, an unanswered question(1). He says as much explicitly in one of his letters. He is unwilling to elaborate on Tom much beyond Goldberry's answer to Frodo's question 'Who is Tom Bombadil?' She replies simply 'He is'(2).

Some scholars have noted the obvious similarity between that statement and the Biblical statement of God identifying himself only as 'I am', or 'I am that I am'(3). Now, none of these scholars have supposed that Bombadil is Eru. Even they recognize the inherent contradiction in that. Tolkien, in another one of his letters, dealt with exactly this issue. He points out that Goldberry's statement was intended only as a reference to the 'mystery of names'(4).

There is a very important thing to note here. Frodo asked 'Who is Tom Bombadil', not 'What is Tom Bombadil'. Goldberry answered the question that was asked, not the question that was implied. To see the difference, try and answer the question 'Who are you' without including any unasked for information.

'I am a student.' No, that is what you are.

'I am a mother.' No, again, that is what you are, not who you are.

It's a difficult question to answer in terms of itself without defining yourself in terms of a group you belong to, which is a more accurate answer to what you are, not who. In the end, the only wholly accurate answer to 'Who are you?' is 'I am me.' You simply are.

As is Tom Bombadil.

It comes down to Tolkien's first love, which is language. You will hear me say this time and again: the world of Middle-earth exists because of language. Tolkien created the Elvish language first, out of his deep-seated love of language and his vocation as a linguist. It was only after that he created the world of Middle-earth as a sandbox or a playground in which to use and explore that language. Because of that background, it is always worth exploring the choice of words that he made in any situation. Who versus what, in this instance.

But, getting back to the focus, there have been numerous suppositions regarding Tom Bombadil. The most popular seem to be that he is a Vala, a Maia, or some form of unidentified nature spirit.

As to the first, I'm referring specifically to an essay I was directed to on the internet called 'Who Is Tom Bombadil' by Gene Hargrove. I'll include a link in the show transcript on the podcast's blog. Hargrove's ultimate conclusion, if you want to skip the reading, is that Tom Bombadil is most likely to be the Vala AulÃÂ and that Goldberry is Yavanna(5). This doesn't work for me for a couple of major reasons. First of all, we have no reason to believe that any of the Valar ever left Aman after the First Age. Secondly, AulÃÂ was a smith concerned with the fire and the forge. These are things in which Tom shows no interest. Additionally, Tom is stated to be known as 'Forn' to the Dwarves, whereas AulÃÂ was called Mahal by them. Thirdly, in 'The Council of Elrond' scene, when Tom Bombadil is discussed, Glorfindel and Gandalf note that they have passing knowledge of Tom, but give no real indication that he could be anything as powerful as a Vala. And this from two characters who had lived in Aman and walked with the Valar.

Finally, there's the statement made in that same scene that if the rest of Middle-earth were to fall, Tom would fall as well 'Last as he was First'. This gives further weight to contradicting the Tom-As-AulÃÂ theory, for if Tom were a Vala and he were the first, then he would necessarily have to be Melkor, not AulÃÂ, since Melkor was the first of the Ainur to be created in Eru's thoughts.

So it's unlikely he's a Vala. But what about a Maia?

You still have the problem here of the 'Last as he was First' statement. Unless the claim is that he was the first Maia created. But since the Maiar are just lesser Ainur, it's a fine distinction, finer than I think is implied by the choice of language. Gandalf, too, is a Maia; all the Wizards are. But again, there's no sense from Gandalf that this is a creature with power relative to his own. The idea of Tom being a member of the race of the Ainur seems, to me, to be a reach, especially given what we know of him and, more importantly, what we don't know and who doesn't know it.

Possibly the most popular theory regarding Tom Bombadil is that of him as some sort of nature spirit. Personally, and this is my opinion and I'll tell you why, this doesn't jive well with me. We're given no indication anywhere else in Tolkien's works -- Lord of the Rings to The Hobbit to The Silmarillion to twelve volumes of The Histories of Middle-earth -- of any other such spiritual creatures. The only creatures of spirit in Tolkien's world that we're ever introduced to are those of the race of the Ainur, whether Ainu, Vala, or Maia. At this point, we're presupposing an entire race of creatures never mentioned anywhere. I just... don't like doing that.

Now that we've talked about what Tom Bombadil isn't, let's talk a little about what thing we know Tom Bombadil is.

We know Tom Bombadil existed in Tolkien's mind long before Lord of the Rings was written. He actually began as a doll for one of Tolkien's children. Tolkien wrote him into poems. The concept of Tom Bombadil predates Middle-earth. By that reason alone, trying to fit him into the hierarchy of races becomes difficult if not impossible. In Tolkien's letters, he notes that he only put Tom in The Lord of the Rings because he existed already and he wanted him to have 'an adventure on the way'(6). If he has to represent something, Tolkien goes on, it is to embody the pure sciences, those concerned wholly with knowledge and 'unconcerned with doing anything with the knowledge'.

This distinction can be seen in an earlier draft of The Two Towers in which Pippin and Treebeard briefly discuss Bombadil. Treebeard makes the observation that 'We were like your Tombombadil when we were young', but that while the Ents were more concerned with herding the trees and doing something with the knowledge they had, Tom sought knowledge merely for its own sake(7). He compares it to walking in a garden versus tending a garden. What we're left with is the idea that Tom and the Ents share a common ancestry perhaps.

Where does this get us? Not much further. It's also worth looking at, though, the various names we find for Tom throughout the Histories of Middle-earth, because, remember, language was the heart of this world. In addition to 'Tom Bombadil' and 'Forn', which we've already discussed, we also can find him referred to as 'Frumbarn', 'Orald', 'Erion', 'YÃÂrÃÂ', and 'Iarwain Ben-adar'⁸.

'Forn', as he's known to the Dwarves, is a Scandinavian word that means 'ancient'. 'Frumbarn' and 'Orald', which are names used by Men, are both Old English; 'Frumbarn' means 'first-born' and 'Orald' means 'very old'. The last three names come from Tolkien's Elvish languages. 'YÃÂrÃÂ' is Quenya and means 'former days', while 'Erion' and 'Iarwain Ben-adar' are Sindarin. 'Erion' means, roughly, 'son of one', or, with a little literary licence, 'son of the One' (as in Eru). 'Iarwain Ben-adar' as translated by Elrond means 'oldest and fatherless', which seems to contradict 'Erion'. This may be why the latter was stricken from the manuscript.

All of these names have something in common in that they all recognise Tom Bombadil as something ancient. Older than old. Something that goes beyond the knowledge of the Third Age. It's very possible that Elves who existed during the time of the Two Trees in what was known as the Springtime of Arda, might have had more knowledge of a creature such as Tom Bombadil.

There is no reason not to believe that had Frodo asked of Galadriel during his time in LÃÂrien if she knew of Iarwain Ben-adar, as the Elves had named Tom Bombadil, that she might have responded, 'Yeah, I know him. You met him? Tell that sonofabitch he still owes me money.' Okay... maybe not that exactly, but the intent is all the same. She might very well have known more than the Elves at the Council of Elrond simply by virtue of having been around in the Elder Days.

But where does this all leave us? For myself, it leaves me with two final trains of thought. Maybe Tom isn't really that special of a creature. Perhaps he's only unique in that he was the first creature born in Arda. It's a very important distinction to make because the Elves, the Dwarves, and the Men -- the three primary races of Arda -- were all created and awoke at an appointed time. They were not born. There were, of course, Elves, Dwarves, and Men born later, but the initial population was created. Tom being the first born creature could be his only claim to significance. He could be a forerunner to the race of Hobbits. He could be an offshoot of the Dwarves. He could be a rebellious Ent who never paid enough attention to the trees in order for his form to evolve with his kin. He could even be the sole surviving member of a wholly separate race long since wiped out (though this means we're inventing races again).

Or he could be something beyond. Let me elaborate.

We know that Tolkien was great friends with another fantasy novelist who you may have heard of named Clive. Clive Staples Lewis wrote a series of books that took place in a quaint little fantasy world of his own called Narnia. I make this observation because Tolkien and Lewis together founded a literary group at Oxford where they would often meet, share samples of their works in progress, and have scholarly discussions. This kind of interaction doubtless would lead to correlations between contemporary works. In particular, in this case, what I'm referring to is the concept in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe of the difference between the Deep Magic and what Aslan calls the Deeper Magic. It's the idea that there is a level of magic, of spirituality, whatever you want to call it, that the general population of a world is aware of, or at least willing to accept. And then, there is a level beyond. There is magic that only a few know, or are even aware of.

Tom Bombadil could be a part of that, the Deeper Magic of Middle-earth. The Ring has no power over him, it is said, and he would not understand the necessity of keeping it from Sauron. Could it be that this is because he transcends Middle-earth and the problems and perils contained? He is in the world, but not truly of the world. He is simply beyond.

I know this sounds like something of a cop out, but in the final analysis, I really believe it comes closer to the heart of Tolkien's intentions for the character than any of the other theories put forth here. When all is said and done, all we're left with is Goldberry's simple answer.

Who is Tom Bombadil?

He is.

And on that rather existential note, I'll bring this podcast to a close. You can visit the Crystal Clear Tolkien blog for transcripts and citations at http://silime.libsyn.com. Remember, if you have comments or questions about this episode, or if you have a question about Middle-Earth that you'd like me to address on a future episode, then please drop me an email at silime@gmail.com. That's S-I-L-I-M-E at gmail dot com.

Until next time, I'm Silime and this is Crystal Clear Tolkien. Namarie.

References

1. The Letters of JRR Tolkien, Letter 144, pg174
2. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., The Fellowship of the Ring, In The House of Tom Bombadil, pg122
3. The Bible, Exodus 3:14
4. The Letters of JRR Tolkien, Letter 153, pg191
5. Who Is Tom Bombadil?, http://www.cas.unt.edu/~hargrove/tombomb.html
6. The Letters of JRR Tolkien, Letter 153, pg192
7. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Seven, The Treason Of Isengard, Treebeard, pg416
8. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Seven, The Treason Of Isengard, The Council of Elrond (2), pg152

Crystal Clear Tolkien #4

silime@gmail.com — Mon, 15 Jan 2007 16:29:00 GMT

An exploration into who and what Tom Bombadil is.

Transcript: CCT#3

silime@gmail.com — Thu, 30 Nov 2006 18:54:00 GMT

Coming at you live from the Mirkwood racquetball court, this is Crystal Clear Tolkien.

This is Silime. Welcome to Crystal Clear Tolkien. For today's show, I'm going to address two topics, since they're relatively short and easy to cover. First of all, we're going to talk about the common misconception that Thranduil was a cold, abusive drunkard. Then, we're going to learn about who the hell Gildor Inglorion was.

Thranduil, as you probably know, was King of Mirkwood throughout most of the Third Age. Most of what we know about Thranduil comes from The Hobbit, as he plays an important role in the goings-on in that book. Because he is something of an antagonist toward Bilbo and his party, there are a lot of people who paint him in their essays and fiction as a tyrant. But this doesn't tell the whole story.

The Hobbit is not the only place Thranduil is mentioned. He is also spoken about in Unfinished Tales under the Appendix of Of Galadriel and Celeborn(1). There it speaks of Oropher, of the War of the Last Alliance, and what followed. It tells that the Silvan Elves were a hardy and valiant lot, independent of Gil-galad (which was what caused their great loss in the war)(2).

It also speaks of what followed the war, how Thranduil and his Elves were anxious and unquiet, feeling the change to the world that the Third Age would bring. Men were growing in numbers and slowly spreading, closer and closer to LÃrien and Greenwood. Thranduil also knew that the Wild Men -- Men of the east -- were now restless. They were free of Sauron's rule, but the evil still held them captive, and they waged cruel wars; they kept moving westward, slaying anything in their path. The last sentences dealing with this change following Sauron's defeat in the Second Age shows a foresight and sorrow in Thranduil that is given nowhere else:

"But there was in Thranduil's heart a still deeper shadow. He had seen the horror of Mordor and could not forget it. If ever he looked to the south its memory dimmed the light of the Sun, and though he knew that it was now broken and deserted and under the vigilance of the Kings of Men, fear spoke in his heart that it was not conquered for ever: it would arise again."

The Histories of Middle-earth also discuss Thranduil's retreat as the Shadow fell upon Greenwood; how he finally settled in the north-east of the wood and delved his halls there. The writings give a reason for his hatred of the Dwarves -- he was related to Thingol. He built his halls in the way Thingol had created Menegroth, and for those who have not read The Silmarillion, Thingol was slaughtered by the Dwarves after they created the Nauglamir for him out of a Silmaril. It created great enmity between the Sindar of Doriath and the Dwarves forever more. When Oropher brought his son and the handful of Sindar with him from Lindon, they adopted the language of the Silvan Elves, names, mannerisms, and culture -- they wished to never leave Middle-earth, or to be merged with the Sindar of Beleriand (which was dominated by the Noldorin Exiles, whom the Sindar of Oropher had no great love of). They wished to become Silvan and "return to the simple life natural to the Elves before the invitation of the Valar had disturbed it(3)."

So, Thranduil's reaction toward the Dwarves in The Hobbit is not representative of his attitude as a whole. He had very personal reasons fuelling his dislike for Dwarves. In no way should this be translated to the way he treats his own people or even other races.

A second major mischaracterization of Thranduil is that he is a drunkard. Those who put forward this view point to a line in Chapter 9 of The Hobbit.

"Wood-elves, and especially their king, were very fond of wine..."

Now, let's face it. Many humans out there can be described as being "very fond of wine," but that doesn't make them drunkards. They simply enjoy wine. There is a fanon assumption that Thranduil had to be this mean, hateful drunk because he enjoyed wine and collected treasures. The more complete picture, though, is that he merely follows the example Thingol himself set for his people long before the Exiles returned to Middle-earth and the Moon rose for the first time. And no one accuses Thingol of being an abusive drunk.

Tolkien himself stated the Elves were his perfect beings -- they were far above the crudeness of Men. They had long, long lifespans, great knowledge, foresight, and talents Men were never able to mimic. Very few of them exhibited the failings of Men, and those failings they did exhibit were such great feats that they were written into legend. Among Tolkien's Elves, you won't find pickpockets, muggers, wifebeaters, rapists, paedophiles, or any of those seedier sides of humanity that we'd just as soon forget. What few notable villainous characters we find are merely the exceptions that prove the rule -- such acts are so rare and unheard-of that those few times they occur are noteworthy.

Another major sticking point about Thranduil concerns his relationship with his son, Legolas. There exists any number of fanfics out there that show Thranduil as being a seriously abusive father, either verbally or physically, or both. And while we have no specific instances that ever show Thranduil and Legolas together, we can infer from elsewhere in the Histories of Middle-earth that child abuse just isn't something that happens among the Elves.

The biggest piece of evidence we have comes from the Laws and Customs of the Eldar. Now, I could do an entire show that does nothing but points out inconsistencies between the Laws and Customs of the Eldar and the actual examples we are shown throughout the rest of the canon... and maybe I will sometime soon. But, for now, there are some points to be made about children that are borne out by the examples we have, and they are particularly relevant here. Let's look at some quotes.

"The Eldar wedded for the most part in their youth and soon after their fiftieth year. They had few children, but these were very dear to them. Their families, or houses, were held together by love and a deep feeling for kinship in mind and body; and the children needed little governing or teaching."

Granted, saying that in general, children were very dear to their parents doesn't prove that every single child was adored by their parents. The same can be said of humans -- that, in general, parents love their children. But there are a saddening number of exceptions to this. However, we have to go back to Tolkien's intent for the Elves to be ideals, to be what humans could only aspire to be without the trappings of vice and villainy that weigh us down. Even EÃl, arguably the most villainous figure among the Elves, is never shown to be abusive to his son(4).

Perhaps a better point for discussion, though, is this quote a little further down.

"Also the Eldar say that in the begetting, and still more in the bearing of children, greater share and strength of their beinzg, in mind and in body, goes forth than in the making of mortal children."

When Elves have children, they don't just pass on their genes, but they also imbue their child with a piece of their own spirit. In MÃriel's case, she imparted so much to FÃanor that it left her own spirit too weakened to fully recover. So, among the Elves, having a child is a serious commitment. Elves never conceive unless both parties are willing and make the active choice to make that kind of sacrifice to create a new spirit. There are no accidental or unwanted pregnancies for them.

Put all this together, and the possibility of child abuse by Elves seems remote. Every child born to Elves is not only wanted, but was actively sought. They are reflections of their parents in more than just genetics; they represent the merging of the best parts of husband and wife. This isn't to say that family life was always the idyllic Norman-Rockwell-Ozzie-and-Harriet picture of perfection. Disagreements, even arguments, were not necessarily uncommon. But actual abuse? Highly, highly unlikely.

"Oh-ho-ho!" I hear you naysayers. Or I would if this were a two-way broadcast. "What about the Kinslayings? They prove that Elves have a dark side. If they can do that, why can't they be just as bad as us in everything else?"

So, okay, let's talk about the Kinslayings for a bit. The first Kinslaying was driven not by evil or malice, but by one Elf's grief over the murder of his father and the anger he felt at the Valar's refusal to act. Not right by any definition of the word, but hardly the kind of deep-seated villainy that can condemn an entire race. The other two Kinslayings were driven solely by the Oath that the Valar enforced upon the sons of that one Elf who, after FÃanor's death, continued to uphold his legacy even to their doom. If anyone has a dark side in this story, it is the Valar themselves, who chose to "teach a lesson" to the FÃanorians, and so to all Elves.

Outside of the Kinslayings, did you ever see Elf raise arms against Elf again? After the destruction of the Silmarils, it ended. The Valar set into motion the events of the history of Middle-earth. Had they acted against Melkor after the death of FinwÃ and the destruction of the Two Trees, the Kinslayings would never have occurred. (But of course, neither would anything else of import.)

Bringing this back to Thranduil, what have we worked out? The way he treated the Dwarves is not the way he treats everyone; liking wine doesn't make you an alcoholic; and Thranduil had to have actively desired to have Legolas, so the idea of him abusing his son is hard to swallow, especially in light of the inferences we can make about Elven family life and Elven attitudes in general, both from the Laws and Customs of the Eldar and from Tolkien's letters and other writings.

So, moving on.

Letâs talk about Gildor. In The Fellowship of the Ring, we â in the form of Frodo and Sam â meet an Elf heading for the Grey Havens(5). Gildor Inglorion, of the house of Finrod is how he introduces himself. Which poses a really interesting conundrum.

You see, the '-ion' ending to that name means 'son of'. Gildor Inglorion is therefore Gildor, son of Inglor. The problem with this is that there is no Elf named Inglor. At least, not anymore. Now, in the original drafts of Tolkienâs works, Inglor's full name was Inglor Felagund -- that's right, Felagund. During one of Tolkien's revisions, though, Inglor Felagund became Finrod Felagund. Presumably, all references to Inglor therefore should now refer to Finrod. Similarly, that same initial draft referenced an Elf named Finrod, who, in this same revision, became Finarfin.

Christopher points out that "Gildor Inglorion of the house of Finrod" is an anomaly -- the only remaining anachronistic reference to Inglor-who-is-Finrod and Finrod-who-is-Finarfin. By this reasoning, the passage should read, "Gildor Finrodion, of the house of Finarfin".

So, Gildor is actually supposed to be Finrod's son. Case closed, right? Well... yes and no. The Histories of Middle-earth also say that Finrod had no wife and no child. However, if references to 'Inglor' became references to 'Finrod', then clearly, Gildor was intended to be Finrod's child.

The other major piece of data that can be used to help (or hinder) us is when Gildor was born. Many people assume he was born in Aman and fled with the Noldor after the Darkening of Valinor. However, in The Lays of Belariand, there is recounted the tale of how Barahir saved "Inglor Felagund" (who, as we know, became Finrod Felagund) during the Dagor Bragollach. One of Barahir's companions was a mortal named Gildor. Tolkien was very good about not reusing names without a purpose. So, is it merely coincidence that Inglor (who is Finrod) had a son named Gildor and then, many years later, was saved by a Man also named Gildor? Or, was he saved by a Man named Gildor, and then, to honour that deed, named his only son -- who was born perhaps some years later -- after the brave Man?

I tend to go with the latter theory because the first theory is just too... un-Tolkien-like. The coincidence of the same name existing at the same time in members of different races just doesn't sit well with me. So, by my reasoning, Gildor Inglorion had to have been born after the Dagor Bragollach, in Middle-Earth.

Therefore, four main schools of thought exist that you can use when approaching the topic of Gildor.

1. Gildor is Finrod's child, of the house of Finarfin. (This discards the concept of Finrod having no children, and recalls a little-recognized footnote that gave Finrod an unnamed wife in Middle-Earth following the Return of the Noldor(6).)

2. Gildor is Inglor's child, of the house of Finrod. (This, too, discards the concept of Finrod having no children since "Inglor" would have to have been Finrod's child or descendant to begin with.)

3. Gildor is Inglor's child, of the house of Finarfin. (This avoids the Finrod problem altogether, but requires the creation of an Elf named Inglor somewhere in the line of Finarfin who was born before Elrond and Elros -- because it is explicitly stated that they were the last of the house of FinwÃ born during the Eldar Days.)

4. Gildor just is. (This chucks the whole mess out the window and just hangs Gildor out in some long-forgotten branch of the Eldar. Also known as the "la-la-la not listening" defence.)

All right.

This brings us to the conclusion of this show. I know it's late, but I hope it was worth waiting for! Remember, if you have comments or questions about this episode, or if you have a question about Middle-Earth that you'd like me to address on a future episode, then please drop me an email at silime@gmail.com. That's S-I-L-I-M-E at gmail dot com.

Until next time, I'm Silime and this is Crystal Clear Tolkien. Namarie.

References

1. Unfinished Tales, Appendix B, The Sindarin Princes of the Silvan Elves pg270-273
2. Unfinished Tales, Appendix B, The Sindarin Princes of the Silvan Elves pg271
3. Unfinished Tales, Appendix B, The Sindarin Princes of the Silvan Elves pg272
4. The Silmarillion, Of Maeglin pg133-134
5. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., Fellowship of the Ring, Three Is Company pg79
6. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, Of Dwarves And Men pg317-318
History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, The Shibboleth of FÃanor pg350

Crystal Clear Tolkien #3

silime@gmail.com — Thu, 30 Nov 2006 18:47:00 GMT

In this podcast, we discuss the topics of who Thranduil and Gildor are.

Transcript: CCT#2

silime@gmail.com — Fri, 10 Nov 2006 17:16:00 GMT

Coming at you live from the throne room of the Halls of Mandos, this is Crystal Clear Tolkien.

This is Silime. Welcome to Crystal Clear Tolkien. Today's topic is taken from an email sent to me by a listener named Kris. In her email, she asks "I've read various rants and heard different opinions on "How to Kill an Elf", and questions always came up in conversation of how elves live to be so old without growing ill or getting food poisoning (or some other ailment ^_^). Perhaps you could do a podcast on how elves CAN die, as well as how they CAN'T die; giving the facts about the whole "fading" misconception along with information about the level of mortality the elves do possess."

That's a tall order, Kris, but let's give it a try!

Let's begin with how Elves die. It's not as easy as it sounds, since Elven lives are tied to the life of EÃ. The fact of the matter is, Eru created the Elves to be immortal. Not just unaging, but immortal. They weren't supposed to die at all. It's one of the reasons why Aman is referred to as 'The Undying Lands'.

But, when you give creatures independent thought and free will, shit happens.

As with most of the shit in the early stages of Middle-earth, this one can be traced back to Melkor. Death didn't come to Aman until he brought it with him. After Ungoliant killed the Two Trees, Melkor high-tailed it to Formenos and slaughtered FinwÃ on his way to the Silmarils. FÃanor returns to Formenos, finds FinwÃ dead and the Silmarils gone. Instantly, he blames the Valar, and this blame is two-fold. One, because Melkor himself is a Vala, just like them, and two, because the Valar were the ones who released Melkor from his chains.

FÃanor renounces the Valar for their inaction, and vows to take matters into his own hands. He gathers the Noldor, riles them up and they take arms, and set off after Melkor, who has, by now, fled Aman. The Noldor come to the shores of AlqualondÃ and ask the Teleri for their ships so that they can cross the sea. The Teleri, still loyal to the Valar and very proud of their ships, stupidly refuse to help the armed Noldor.

The result is the same, as it always has been, when people without weapons stand up to people with weapons. The Noldor slaughter the Teleri, take their ships by force, and set out for Arda.

The point of telling you all of this is to set up the context of what I am going to telling you next, which actually has something to do with our topic.

When the Noldor reach the far north of Arda and stop to debate their course, NÃmo -- aka Lord Mandos -- appears before them, and is not happy. He pronounces the Doom of Mandos, which among other things, details the manner that they can die: by weapon, by torment, and by grief.

Now, we know they can be killed by weapons because they are. Frequently. Torment includes things like torture, poison, beatings, etc, which we also have evidence of. Grief... not so much. There is actually not a single, canonical example of an Elf who has died of grief. As a result, we don't really know what this means except that what we as humans consider grief is insufficient considering what the Elves suffer throughout the First Age without a recorded death caused by grief.

It's important to note here that the Doom of Mandos was pronounced upon the Noldor. In fact, the Doom of Mandos is often referred to as the Doom of the Noldor. This begs the question, do these methods of death apply to all the Elves, or just to the Noldor?

Well, let's look at what we know.

We know that Sindar can be killed by weapons, because they are. Frequently. We know that the Teleri can be killed by weapons, because the Noldor performed that little experiment for us. We know that even before the Doom of Mandos was pronounce that the Noldor could be killed, because FinwÃ was and, presumably, some of the Noldor fell in the battle against the Teleri. So all of this points to weapons as a universal cause of Elven death. You stick a sharp, pointy thing into an Elf in the right spot or the right number of times, they'll fall down and not get up.

Or will they?

Because, you see, there is one group of Elves that is left out here that we know nothing about. No, I don't mean the Avari. Those count as Sindar. I mean, the Vanyar. The only record we have of the Vanyar in battle is when they came with the host of the Valar during the War of Wrath. We're told how the armies of Morgoth fell under the might of this army, how the Balrogs were destroyed, the Orcs slaughtered, the dragons repelled. What we're not told is whether any of the Vanyar were killed in the battle itself. Does this mean that none of them were? Either because they were just that bad-ass, or because they literally couldn't be killed?

It's interesting to note that there is an earlier draft of the account of the War of Wrath in the History of Middle-Earth: Volume One, The Book of Lost Tales 1. In that draft, IngwÃ, who is Vanyar and the High King of the Elves of Aman, is explicitly stated to have died(1). However, the final published version of The Silmarillion leaves this out, and IngwÃ never returns to Middle-Earth and remains the High King throughout all the Ages of Aman. The question is whether this was simply cut for reasons of length, or if Tolkien didn't intend for any of the Vanyar to die? We don't know, and it's a matter of personal interpretation at this point, whether or not the Vanyar can be killed.

My belief is no, they can't. They stayed true to the Valar, served them and worshiped them, and their reward was what Eru had intended for them, which was not to die while EÃ existed.

So that covers weapons, and we have no proof that any Elf canonically died of grief. This leaves torment.

The best example we have of a non-Noldorin Elf who had to deal with torment is CelebrÃan, and even she is technically half-Noldor through her mother. She was captured by Orcs, she was tortured and received a poisoned wound(2). Some people like to claim she was sexually assaulted by the Orcs, but there is no canon proof of this and there is no canon support that Orcs are sexual in nature or understand it as a form of torment. So, this is fanon, and I digress.

CelebrÃan took a poisoned wound and endured torment at the hands of the Orcs for an undisclosed amount of time, and she did not die from it. Many people screw this up all the time, and I think it's due to one early draft of The Tale of Years of the Third Age where Tolkien wrote that she did die(3). However, in the subsequent versions of this section, as well as in the published Appendices, CelebrÃan did not die. She lost all joy in Arda and left of her own volition under her own power. Got on a boat and sailed back to Aman in hopes of rekindling her love for life. If anyone had the right to death by torment or by grief, it would have been CelebrÃan, but she didn't.

On the other hand, Aredhel, who was full-blooded Noldor, took a poisoned wound and died from it that very night(4). Does this mean that non-Noldor can't be poisoned to death? We don't know, since these are the only two examples that we have. But, I am of the opinion that Elves who did not have the Doom pronounced upon them can't die in that way.

We also have some evidence of other forms of death. We know at least three Elves died from falling off cliffs. Well, actually we know they died because they hit the ground after falling off a cliff. The fall didn't kill them, the sudden stop at the bottom is what did them in. We also know that can drown. This happens on two occasions, one prior to the Doom. Following the slaughter of the Teleri, Ulmo made the seas rise and smash as many ships as possible, and many of the Noldor on those ships drown. Additionally, after the Doom, as the Elves were crossing the HelcaraxÃ, the ice would crack, the Elves would fall into the water and be carried away by the current, trapping them under the ice where they would drown(5). We can speculate that suffocation would work just as well as drowning, which is to say Elves must breathe, but we don't know this for absolute certainty. It's also entirely possible you could lump all of these methods under torment, or weapon if you're using a really liberal definition of the term. Cause of death: cliff.

Now we know what kills Elves. Let's look at what doesn't, cause this is where people go WAY off the beaten path.

1. Age will not kill an Elf. This should be obvious. Look at Galadriel, CÃrdan, Maglor. They get really, really old, but it doesn't slow them down, they don't get infirm, and they don't die simply because they're old.

2. Elves don't die in childbirth. We'll get into reproduction and childbirth in another episode, but it is important to note in this one Elves don't have complications in their pregnancies and they don't die while giving birth. Not even MÃriel died in childbirth or because of giving birth. Her death was caused by imparting too much of her own spirit into the spirit of her son, thus exhausting her to the point of death some years later. She is also a stand-alone case where bearing a child contributed to her ultimate demise.

3. Exposure to extreme elements can't kill an Elf. We have three major examples of this. The Elves crossing the HelcaraxÃ didn't pack for a winter vacation, and they didn't freeze to death. The Elves that died drowned from falling under the ice, and even the instances we have where Elves fell in and were pulled out of the freezing water into the freezing wind, they did not develop frostbite, they did not develop hypothermia, and they did not die. Second, we have Legolas on Caradhras. The rest of the Fellowship is bundled up, shivering, and neck-deep in snow, Legolas is wearing the same light, warm-weather gear he left Imladris in, trotting on top of the snow like it wasn't even there. On the other temperature extreme, we have Maedhros chained to Thangorodrim. He endured every sort of seasonal change you could imagine for years and suffered neither heatstroke nor frostbite.

4. And while we're on the subject of Maedhros, I'm pretty sure Melkor didn't feed or water him like a good captor. Likewise, the Elves crossing the HelcaraxÃ didn't have sufficient rations for the length of the journey and the number of people, neither of which they had anticipated when they set out. So, hunger and thirst are two extremes that don't kill Elves.

5. Sickness and infection. This is a bone of contention within the realm of Tolkien discussion. It is true that they cannot die from illness. That is part of the Doom of Mandos. "No sickness may assail you." The controversy comes over the choice of words Tolkien used. 'Assail' specifically means 'to attack violently' or 'to assault'. It comes down to whether or not this was meant to mean only they could not die from sickness or if they could not become sick at all. We never see an Elf catch a cold or come down with pneumonia, but we don't hear about any of the Men in his tales contracting the flu. You can look at it as sickness is such a minor worry that Tolkien didn't ever bother to write about it (I mean, who really cares if Boromir caught yellow fever as a tyke or if Elladan was laid out with the measles for three weeks as a child?), or you can look at it as sickness was a part of life for Men and not for Elves. It's a matter of personal interpretation at this point.

You also have to decide, if the Elves do get sick, is it only the Noldor who don't as part of the Doom or if all Elves fall under the sickness rule.

6. Finally, we have the question of poison. We know that CelebrÃan was sick from her poisoned wound, and that Aredhel died of hers, but we don't know about ingested poison or topical poison or inhaled poison. There was herbal knowledge all throughout the tales, of which plants you could eat, which ones you could smoke, which ones, when ingested, could cure an ailment, so it isn't beyond the knowledge of the races of Middle-earth that one could give a known poisonous plant to someone to eat and that there would be ill effects. It's just never shown if anyone did this. This is yet another area you need to make your own call. My opinion is that a toxin, no matter its mode of delivery, is going to have the same effect on an Elf, but can't say it for absolute fact because we simply don't know.

So, we know how Elves die, and how they don't die. Let's now look at the final part of Kris' question, and that is 'fading'.

For those of you listening who are not part of the Tolkien fanfiction world, let me to explain to you why Kris even asked me about this. There is a fanfiction author by the name Ilye. She wrote a beautiful, sweeping story year ago when she was, perhaps, fifteen, and she will admit that it is a little on the immature, and noncanonical, side of things. The plot device of this trilogy of stories has become infamous, because it redefined what canonical fading is. This misuse of the term has been picked up by many, many other fanfiction authors and has been perpetuated as a fanon concept that most believe to be canonical.

It's not.

What Ilye essentially did in her story was to use the term 'fading' to mean 'death by grief', a concept, as we've discussed, we know nothing about. Death by grief is not what fading means. Fading is not a slow, physically withering death where the internal flame of an Elf dims. In fact, fading is not death as we mortals think of the term. Fading is the fate reserved solely for those Elves who refused to heed the call of the Sea after the ending of the Third Age(6). As time moved on, and Arda became the domain of Men and the time of Elves had come to an end, it was fated for those Elves who remained to fade from the sight of Men. They would slowly become incorporeal spirits, in the world but not of the world.

It's stated that they could, through force of will, become visible for short times to those they desired to see them, but it's obvious this isn't something that would happen often. The only way to escape this half-life was to follow the call of Mandos and journey to the Halls of Waiting. Needless to say, we're given the impression that not many Elves chose this fate. It's speculated this is the fate of Maglor, but we have no evidence to support either his return to Aman or his fading in Arda.

My point in this is that fading is not a form of death, and it is especially not death by grief.

So, Kris, I hope that clears everything up for you, and for everyone else out there. Remember, ff you have comments or questions about this episode, or if you have a question about Middle-Earth that you'd like me to address on a future episode, then please drop me an email at silime@gmail.com. That's S-I-L-I-M-E at gmail dot com.

Until next time, I'm Silime and this is Crystal Clear Tolkien. Namarie.

References

1. Book of Lost Tales 1, The Cottage of Lost Play, p18
2. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., Appendix B, The Tale of Years, p1062
History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, The Tale of Years of the Third Age, p235
History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, The Making of Appendix A, p264
3. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, The Tale of Years of the Third Age, p226
4. The Silmarillion, Of Maeglin, p138
5. The Silmarillion, Of the Flight of the Noldor, p90
History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, The Peoples of Middle-Earth, The Shibboleth of FÃanor, p346
6. History of Middle-Earth: Volume Ten, Morgoth's Ring, p212

Crystal Clear Tolkien #2

silime@gmail.com — Fri, 10 Nov 2006 17:05:00 GMT

In this podcast, we discuss causes of Elven death, as well as Elven sickness.

CCT#1

Mon, 6 Nov 2006 17:21:00 GMT

Coming at you live from the bathroom of the House of the Golden Flower, this is Crystal Clear Tolkien.

This is Silime. Welcome to the premiere episode of Crystal Clear Tolkien. In this podcast, I'm going to take some of the myths, misconceptions, and muddlings surrounding Tolkien's Middle-Earth and attempt to clarify them.

Today we're going to look at a question that comes up frequently in online debate, and that is whether Glorfindel of Gondolin and Glorfindel of Imladris are the same person.

First of, I want to go into a little aside here and talk about the pronunciation of his name.

Usually I hear this in one of two ways. Most people say GLORfindel, emphasis on the first syllable, but there are people who say GlorFINdel, emphasis on the second syllable. According to the general rules of Sindarin pronunciation (and his name is Sindarin), the first way is correct because the emphasis on a word of three or more syllables goes on the third syllable from the final one.

Got that?

Good!

There are, however, exceptions to this. I mean, aren't there always?

One of these exceptions says that when the second to last syllable has a vowel followed by two or more consonants, it takes the emphasis instead. This is where people get GlorFINdel, due to the ND following the I; that two consonants, count them, following one vowel.

Now here's where it gets tricky. Yes, it's true that N and D are separate consonants in Sindarin, unlike combinations such as CH, TH, and DH, which are two letters in English but are always represented as a single character in the Tengwar. N and D, on the other hand, are each distinct characters.

Funny thing happens though, when an N is put in front of other consonants, D and G being the more common examples. They combine to form what is called a nasalized consonant(1). In the Tengwar, a nasalized consonant is denoted by showing the second consonant with an additional theta above it. This means that in the Tengwar, ND would be written as the D with the nasalization symbol above it. In other words, the consonants are treated as a single entity.

This brings us back to the general case. If the ND is treated as a single entity in the Tengwar, then the I is not followed by two distinctive consonant sounds, so the exception doesn't apply and the emphasis goes on the first syllable after all, giving us the name GLORfindel.

Okay! Now that we've got that out of the way, let's return to the topic at hand.

Before we get deep into whether the Glorfindel we see in Lord of the Rings is the same Glorfindel as we meet in The Silmarillion, we need to address a whole separate issue: Tolkien's reuse of Elven names. I do specify Elven, because we're not too concerned with the naming conventions of Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits at the moment.

One of the issues that crops up is whether or not Tolkien simply reused dead Glorfindel's name for a new Elf born centuries after Gondolin fell. Yes, Tolkien did reuse names among his Elves. Not often, and the examples are pretty easy to locate, but for this podcast, I'm going to only present you with two of the most common, neither of which is Glorfindel himself.

Legolas of Gondolin and Legolas of Mirkwood are our first examples. There are two main reasons we know that these two characters are not the same Elf. Legolas of Gondolin is Noldorin while Legolas of Mirkwood is Sindarin, and Legolas of Gondolin was alive and well in Tol Eressea long before Legolas of Mirkwood made his first appearance in the late Third Age of Arda.

Our second example is RÃmil of Tirion and RÃmil of LÃrien. RÃmil of Tirion was a great loremaster, the creator of the written word for the Elves, and he lived in Aman. RÃmil of LÃrien showed up in Lord of the Rings as the brother to an Elven sentry named Haldir. RÃmil of Tirion is obviously a Noldo; RÃmil of LÃrien is of Sindarin origin because of what we know of LÃrien and the Elves that populated that Elvish realm.

In both the examples of the Legolases and of the RÃmils, we see a distinct pattern emerge. Neither of the Legolases, and neither of the RÃmils, were either both in Aman or both in Arda at any point in time prior to the Fourth Age. We have no examples of two Elves with the same name living in the same lands at the same time.

Going by this statement, though, is it possible that the Glorfindel of Gondolin never returned to Middle-earth and the Glorfindel we meet in Imladris was merely someone named after the great warrior? Yes, it quite possibly could be.

But...

Yes, there's always a but. Just like those exceptions.

We have many canonical reasons to believe that Glorfindel of Imladris is the same Elf who died protecting the city of Gondolin thousands of years before we see him in Lord of the Rings.

Glorfindel of Gondolin died. Unlike the Legolases and the RÃmils, there was a period of time where there was no Elf named Glorfindel. The next chronological reference we find with anyone using the name Glorfindel is in Third Age 1975 when the Witch King of Angmar (who you will recall Eowyn put the smackdown on) had a run-in with him(2). One look at this Third Age Glorfindel astride his white horse, and the Witch King high-tailed it the hell out in the other direction. This Glorfindel even pronounced the doom that no Man would defeat the Witch King.

So we have to wonder, would the Witch King have been afraid of some young upstart who just happened to have the name Glorfindel, despite the fact that he had shown no fear for any other Elf during the Battle of Fornost? It seems more likely that it would take an Elf of the calibre of Glorfindel of Gondolin who had faced dragons and Orcs and Balrogs, to elicit that sort of reaction from the Witch King.

Both Glorfindels are Noldorin. We know this because Glorfindel of Gondolin lived in Gondolin, a chiefly Noldorin settlement, and he came over the HelcaraxÃ with Fingolfin and Turgon, and Gandalf told Frodo in Lord of the Rings that Glorfindel of Imladris was of a house of princes. There is only one royal line that Gandalf would speak of that would make any sense in this, and that's the line of FinwÃ, which would make Glorfindel of Imladris a Noldo.

Glorfindel of Gondolin dwelled in Aman, and in Many Meetings, Gandalf says that Glorfindel of Imladris also had dwelled in Aman. This is the second instance where the reuse of names breaks down. They both lived in Aman during separate time periods, and both came to Arda during two different times.

All of this, really, is only speculation. This does not conclude that Glorfindel of Gondolin and Glorfindel of Imladris were the same people. It just shows that both were Elves of Aman who eventually made their ways into Arda.

But I do have definitive proof for you, dear listeners.

In The History of Middle-Earth: Volume Twelve, Peoples of Middle-Earth, there is an essay Tolkien himself wrote about the two Glorfindels. It can be found on page 379 and is entitled "Glorfindel II". Tolkien explains that yes, both Glorfindel's are the same Elf; Glorfindel of Imladris having satisfied his penance in the Halls of Mandos, reborn into Aman to grow hale and powerful, near-equal in power to the Maiar, and sent back to Middle-Earth in the middle of the Second Age to again serve the line he once died protecting.

Christopher Tolkien also provides an additional piece of information in The History of Middle-Earth: Volume Six, The Return of the Shadow, on page 214. During the discussion of the original draft of The Council of Elrond, Tolkien had written into the margin to address the story of Gil-galad, answer the question of who Trotter was, and Glorfindel telling his ancestry in Gondolin. Tolkien explains that, originally, the reuse of the name Glorfindel in Lord of the Rings was one of the random uses of names found in the legends and it escaped revision prior to publication, but later he came to the conclusion that they were the same Elf.

So, we have two canonical instances where Tolkien's own words state that they are the very same person. Could I have saved you all several minutes of listening time if I'd just come out and said that to begin with? Of course I could have, but then I wouldn't really have much of a show, now would I? Besides, don't you feel more enlightened by knowing that even without the Professor's own words, you have all the evidence to have an informed discussion? That's what I thought.

Well, that's the show for today. I hope you enjoyed it. I hope that you keep coming back for more episodes. If you have comments about the show, or if you have a question about Middle-Earth that you'd like me to address on a future show, then please drop me an email at silime@gmail.com. That's S-I-L-I-M-E at gmail dot com.

Until next time, I'm Silime and this is Crystal Clear Tolkien. Namarie.

References

1. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., Appendix E, Section I, The FÃanorian Letters, p1096
2. Lord of the Rings, 1994 ed., Appendix A, Section iV, Gondor and the Heirs of AnÃrion, p1026-1027

Crystal Clear Tolkien #1

silime@gmail.com — Mon, 6 Nov 2006 06:26:00 GMT

Addressing the question of Glorfindel