Everything is diminishing--except the reader's interest

Beech27

Active Member
Why Tolkien depicts Middle Earth as falling and having diminished heroes has been speculated on a great deal, by many people at many times on many forums; but I wanted to take this opportunity to apply this class' filter to that line of questioning. That is, rather than wonder why Tolkien does this, I would like to consider what Tolkien accomplishes by doing this. What does it do for the stakes and drama of the story he's telling?

At first blush, one could easily suggest this is an odd narrative choice. Why would I want to read about third-tier heroes fighting against previously vanquished evils? And yet, I obviously do want to read about that. We all do. Millions of people evidently do. But I don't think it's immediately obvious why this gambit works as well as it clearly does--so I thought to put it to the class, and the Professor. Is it that, by humbling our heroes compared to those who came before, the ultimate triumph of the hobbits--who seem humble even compared to the humbled--is all the greater? Certainly Elrond's speech fires the imagination; does the splendor and depth of imagined history count for that much? Or is it something more? Something else?

(Even after Tolkien, the elder days having greater peoples and stronger magic/power is entrenched now as a stock trope in fantasy, so other authors have been able to deploy this narrative stratagem with success. And of course many mythologies throughout history have suggested a past in which things were bigger, better, and simply more-er. But I'm digressing.)
 
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The simple answer to your question is that we are Men, and thus we are more interested in the condition and heroic abilities of Men (and Hobbits) than we are in the condition and heroic abilities of Angels (Valar) and Immortals (Elves).

So, by the construction of Tolkien's mythology, it is inevitable that earlier ages had more mighty heroes. First the Angels (Valar) contended directly with Morgoth (fallen Angel) in Middle Earth. Then, the Valar guided the immortal Elves to Valinor, but some returned and battled with Morgoth in Middle Earth. It is not surprising that immortal beings like Elves, who have also been instructed directly by Angels, are likely to be mightier than mortal Men. Not only mightier, but also perhaps more heroic (if not braver), as, if they die, they just whisk back to the Halls of Mandos, to await re-incarnation. Not the most terrible, nor most mysterious of fates.

So, the question, in Tolkien, is not why Elder Ages had more powerful heroes. It is self evident. The question is; How could Men possibly be heroes at all?

Easy for Elves. Stand up for what is right. You are very powerful. If you get overwhelmed, well, no big deal. Off to the Halls of Mandos, and, after a while, back you come. (Which has always led me to wonder why, when Thangorodrim was broken, many Elvish slaves were freed. Why did they stay slaves in torment? Why not just kill themselves, or go on hunger strike until dead? Quick trip out of torment and back to the Halls of Mandos.)

Much harder for Men (or Hobbits). You are not so powerful. If you don't succeed, and get killed in the attempt at heroism, it is not at all clear what that entails.

So, the structure of the world ensures that previous heroes were more potent.

The reason that we are interested in the stories of less potent heroes, is that they are us, whereas the more potent heroes of the past were totally different.
 
(Which has always led me to wonder why, when Thangorodrim was broken, many Elvish slaves were freed. Why did they stay slaves in torment? Why not just kill themselves, or go on hunger strike until dead? Quick trip out of torment and back to the Halls of Mandos.)

The idea of this behaviour from the Elves was anathema to Tolkien as a Catholic. The closest we see to this is Míriel (Fëanor's mother), and Tolkien tried many ways to explain her departure from Finwë's life to make room for Indis, without demonising Míriel for essentially committing suicide, or Fëanor for essentially killing his mother.

Any Elf that did this might find it difficult to satisfactorily explain to Námo their casual disregard for their Hröa, and therefore might not get a new one anytime soon.
 
Hi Anthony,

I agree with you that suicide might be against some 'laws' pertaining to Elves. There are a few (very few) mentions of 'laws' for Elves in the Silmarillion, but enough for us to know that these exist. Though I do find it odd that quite a few of the books of the Old Testament are concerned with Laws for the Israelites, but very little of the Silmarillion is concerned with Laws for the Elves.

However, this would be a strange law for immortal and re-incarnatible beings. So, I wonder why it might exist?
 
Hi Anthony,

I agree with you that suicide might be against some 'laws' pertaining to Elves. There are a few (very few) mentions of 'laws' for Elves in the Silmarillion, but enough for us to know that these exist. Though I do find it odd that quite a few of the books of the Old Testament are concerned with Laws for the Israelites, but very little of the Silmarillion is concerned with Laws for the Elves.

However, this would be a strange law for immortal and re-incarnatible beings. So, I wonder why it might exist?

The Old Testament contains no specific commandment against suicide yet it is considered fundamentally incompatible with Jewish law and values,
and Christians and Muslims share this general view. Buddhism is also opposed to suicide, as it destruction of life, and Hinduism is also generally opposed, with self-starvation being a potentially acceptable method as it can't be done on impulse.

If the Elves considered the Hröa a gift from Eru it could explain their reluctance to simply throw it away, but that is just a postulation on my part.

We get one (fairly sketchy) account of re-incarnation, and that is Gandalf's so possibly not totally relevant, however it does appear that the process comes at a cost. This cost might be considered too high by the Elves, and be higher in cases of suicide.
 
While on the subject of the death of Elves, but leaving the subject of suicide, consider this question:

Was the sin of the Elves in the kinslaying at Aquilonde as grievous as the sin of Cain in murdering Abel?

The kinslaying, to an apologist for both the Noldor and the Teleri, might look something like this:

Noldor: "Hey you Teleri, stop playing holier than thou! You are being just as possessive of your ships as we are of our Silmarils. We are in hot pursuit. We need the ships. Stand aside! If you don't stand aside, we will send you to a brief time-out in the Halls of Mandos, take your ships anyway, and, undoubtedly, see you later!"

OK, a 'brief time-out, in the Halls of Mandos' as the result of killing some Teleri to get their ships (and them killing some Noldor in defence), does not sound as bad as Cain murdering Abel, for no real good reason, cutting short Abel's all too brief life, and sending him off to who knows where and God knows what?

What should Elvish laws, and Elvish morality be, in the face of Elvish immortality and re-incarnation?
 
While on the subject of the death of Elves, but leaving the subject of suicide, consider this question:

Was the sin of the Elves in the kinslaying at Aquilonde as grievous as the sin of Cain in murdering Abel?

The kinslaying, to an apologist for both the Noldor and the Teleri, might look something like this:

Noldor: "Hey you Teleri, stop playing holier than thou! You are being just as possessive of your ships as we are of our Silmarils. We are in hot pursuit. We need the ships. Stand aside! If you don't stand aside, we will send you to a brief time-out in the Halls of Mandos, take your ships anyway, and, undoubtedly, see you later!"

OK, a 'brief time-out, in the Halls of Mandos' as the result of killing some Teleri to get their ships (and them killing some Noldor in defence), does not sound as bad as Cain murdering Abel, for no real good reason, cutting short Abel's all too brief life, and sending him off to who knows where and God knows what?

What should Elvish laws, and Elvish morality be, in the face of Elvish immortality and re-incarnation?
Prior to the First Kinslaying, what evidence do the Elves have for re-incarnation? With that perspective the crimes of the First Kinslaying, and Cain murdering Abel are equally bad, as Cain might not have known for certain that he would kill his brother but instead thought 'I'll make him take a nap by hitting him in the head with this rock'.

The tendency to hold the Noldor accountable for the First Kinslaying is because the first action they took was to take the ship's without asking. The Teleri had an understandably negative reaction to this idea, but didn't use deadly force to defend their ships. The Teleri used deadly force to defend themselves once the Noldor drew their swords to take the ships by deadly force.
Certainly both parties carry some fault, but it is not equally apportioned.
 
Hi Anthony,

If, at the kinslaying, the Elves had never encountered a re-incarnated Elf, then their perspective might indeed be different. However, I don't think we know, one way or another whether that was their experience? We do know that no Elf had ever died in Valinor before Finwe. But, in all the long years of existence in Cuivienen, in all the long years of the journey westward by the Eldar, in all that time back among the Avari, were there no Elves who perished through misadventure, or through the malevolence of Morgoth, or even those who he may have captured and attempted to be corrupted into Orcs (if that is what happened), but who perished rather than submit? And, would not those have returned to the Halls of Mandos, and some have been re-incarnated, and be there in Valinor, waiting to gladly greet the Eldar when they arrived?

I think it likely that the Eldar in Valinor knew re-incarnated Elves. Even if they didn't, surely they should have known how it worked by questioning the Valar?

As to your second point, about the relevant 'guilt' of the Noldor or Teleri; it is not correct that the Noldor took the ships without asking. Feanor asked for the ships, but was refused. It was after the refusal that the Noldor tried to take the ships by force, the Teleri resisted. Elves were thrown into the sea, swords were drawn, and many were slain upon either side before the Noldor prevailed.

Undoubtedly, the Noldor were the initial aggressors. However, there was blame on both sides that it escalated into slaying.
 
Hi Anthony,

If, at the kinslaying, the Elves had never encountered a re-incarnated Elf, then their perspective might indeed be different. However, I don't think we know, one way or another whether that was their experience? We do know that no Elf had ever died in Valinor before Finwe. But, in all the long years of existence in Cuivienen, in all the long years of the journey westward by the Eldar, in all that time back among the Avari, were there no Elves who perished through misadventure, or through the malevolence of Morgoth, or even those who he may have captured and attempted to be corrupted into Orcs (if that is what happened), but who perished rather than submit? And, would not those have returned to the Halls of Mandos, and some have been re-incarnated, and be there in Valinor, waiting to gladly greet the Eldar when they arrived?

I think it likely that the Eldar in Valinor knew re-incarnated Elves. Even if they didn't, surely they should have known how it worked by questioning the Valar?

As to your second point, about the relevant 'guilt' of the Noldor or Teleri; it is not correct that the Noldor took the ships without asking. Feanor asked for the ships, but was refused. It was after the refusal that the Noldor tried to take the ships by force, the Teleri resisted. Elves were thrown into the sea, swords were drawn, and many were slain upon either side before the Noldor prevailed.

Undoubtedly, the Noldor were the initial aggressors. However, there was blame on both sides that it escalated into slaying.
Regarding your first point: It may be true that other Elves had previously died and gone to the Halls of Mandos, but we have no evidence for or against the argument that they ever left there, or when they did if it ever happened. A desire to leave the Halls of Mandos may be one of the criteria for release, and any Avari might not be willing to leave the Halls if it meant going to Valinor.
Certainly the Valar might have explained how it worked, if any Elf ever asked.

Regarding the Kinslaying:
My recollection was incorrect, but our conclusions are the same: guilt on both sides, but not equally apportioned.
 
I agree that our conclusions are the same. That there is guilt on both sides, but not equally apportioned.

Still, I am curious as to why The Silmarillion tends to heap all the guilt on to the Noldor and apportion none to the Teleri?

Is it because the Silmarillion is largely compiled by the Noldor, and they are generously and valiantly trying to absolve the Teleri of any guilt?

Or is it from some other cause? I wonder?
 
I agree that our conclusions are the same. That there is guilt on both sides, but not equally apportioned.

Still, I am curious as to why The Silmarillion tends to heap all the guilt on to the Noldor and apportion none to the Teleri?

Is it because the Silmarillion is largely compiled by the Noldor, and they are generously and valiantly trying to absolve the Teleri of any guilt?

Or is it from some other cause? I wonder?
Perhaps the few remaining Noldor in Middle-Earth are trying to put the blame on Fëanor and sons. After all, the second group of Noldor are also portrayed as unwitting villains.
 
The simple answer to your question is that we are Men, and thus we are more interested in the condition and heroic abilities of Men (and Hobbits) than we are in the condition and heroic abilities of Angels (Valar) and Immortals (Elves).

The reason that we are interested in the stories of less potent heroes, is that they are us, whereas the more potent heroes of the past were totally different.
I understand the world's cosmology, history, etc., and how it makes it so the events of the story could not have been other than were written. This is doubly true, considering Tolkien's preference to keep extant text. But I don't think it's especially relevant to the question here. Elrond's speech, within the text, doesn't tell us all that much of this broader context. A first time and/or non-Silmarillion reader certainly won't have your extensive knowledge.

I agree with the gist of your final line here in a general sense--though I think it bears mentioning that Tolkien's work is not primarily enjoyed for "relatable" (I know that's a loaded term in this class) characters. The lack of them is, if I'm allowed an anecdotal reading of the internet's prevailing opinions, mostly why people bounce off of LOTR, when they do.

It is also worth noting, I think, that many of our heroes are not Men (or Hobbits). Gimli isn't. Legolas isn't. Gandalf isn't. (To say nothing of Elrond himself, Glorfindel, Galadriel, etc.) Aragorn is, but... well he's more Superman than Man. Boromir is probably the most "human"--that is, flawed in a way we can recognize in ourselves and others--and even Frodo ultimately succumbs. But even still, LOTR is I think notable for a lack of reader self-inserts--or to use modern critical jargon, characters you feel like you have met (or could).

Which is to say, I'm not sure it's all so simple as "Elrond's context makes the heroes seem more like us, and so we care more." I think that is an element at work, and certainly it makes the stakes clear: "No previously unmet hero is going to whip the bad guys for us. We have to achieve success on a level that our betters, ultimately, never could." But even still, I maintain it's a fascinating and slightly counter-intuitive narrative choice.
 
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Hi Beech,

Good post. To try to address it:

Great fiction can be 'truer' than fact. That is because it can convey 'truth' through story and archetypes in a way that is more powerful and more profound than explanation and articulation.

The Lord of the Rings is great fiction - proved so by the test of time.

So, I suggest, that the truth that the heroes of the past are greater than we, is a universal human constant.

Let's take one hero as an example. Publius Horatius Cocles the Captain of one of the Gates of Rome in the time of the early Roman Republic. We will look at him as seen through Macaulay's poem 'Horatius'.

The Etruscans have launched a surprise attack in overwhelming force against Rome. The city will be taken unless the bridge before the gate can be destroyed. But, the enemy is too near. There is not time to cut down the bridge.

Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods."

So Horatius and two more volunteers stood and defended the narrow approach to the bridge, fending off attack after attack, and cutting down the leaders and greatest warriors of the Tuscans, who hurl themselves against them, until the Romans chop down the bridge behind them. Horatius is left alone on the enemy bank as the bridge falls, but he leaps into the Tiber, and despite his armor swims it to safety. Rome survives!

Horatius, and all the great heroes of the past are greater than we are. Or so, at least we each must fear. Would we have held the bridge? Would we flee? Would we at least grab an axe and help to cut the bridge down?

Most of us don't know. So, the heroes of the past always seem mightier than us. We have not been tested, and we don't know how mighty we might or might not be.

I think that is the Archetype here. :

Of course the heroes of the past seem mightier than us, and braver than us, and superhuman, but, not so. We have it in us to be heroes even as they.
 
Just saw this the other day. Great discussion.

Horatius, and all the great heroes of the past are greater than we are. Or so, at least we each must fear. Would we have held the bridge? Would we flee? Would we at least grab an axe and help to cut the bridge down?

Most of us don't know. So, the heroes of the past always seem mightier than us. We have not been tested, and we don't know how mighty we might or might not be.

This is a very insightful observation, @Flammifer ; I know for myself when I study history, I look at the people in the American South organizing to end segregation in the 50s, 60s, and 70s, or the people who harbored escapees from slavery in the 19th century, or harbored Jews in Nazi-controlled parts of Europe in the 30s and 40s - and I ask myself if I would have the courage to risk imprisonment, torture, and even death the way they did. I suppose we never know for sure until we find ourselves in such a situation, but most of the time I suspect I wouldn't.

And, indeed, we see the protagonists in Lord of the Rings explicitly compared to the great heroes of previous Ages. I'm especially thinking of the Hobbits, such as the way Elrond thinks Frodo will be remembered alongside legendary elf-friends like Beren and Turin, or how Sam's prowess in fighting off Shelob is at one point compared to the might of Turin Turambar. Most saliently to this discussion, I'm thinking of a scene, I think it's in book 4, where Sam compares his and Frodo's situation to Beren sneaking into Morgoth's fortress to steal a Silmaril, noting that Beren's peril was even greater than their own. Sam knows that what Beren had to contend with was objectively worse than what he and Frodo are facing; but of course, they and well also know that they are not larger than life heroes, as Beren appears in hindsight. (Also, the fact that Beren prevailed in the end, kinda, doesn't change the fact that his chances of success were microscopic. Just because it happened once doesn't make the odds against Frodo and Sam succeeding any lower - especially since they have no Luthien to ride in to their rescue.)


However, I'm not convinced that's the reason the Lord of the Rings works so well, despite the heroes being lesser than the ones who already vanquished the villain last time. The references to the Elder Days in Lord of the Rings are mostly vague and ephemeral, giving them a mythological feel even in-universe. Whereas the Last Alliance is described in more specific detail, making it more historical and less mythological in-universe (I'd say still mythological to an extent, but less so). And, indeed, up until just a few years ago I presumed the victory of the Last Alliance was a very close thing. Like in a straight up battle of force vs. force, Sauron's side would've crushed them nineteen times out of twenty, and this happened to be the one remaining time where they (barely) defeated him.

I have no idea why Tolkien decided to tell his story this way, but I suspect the reason it works for us so well, despite the heroes being less mighty than their predecessors who defeated Sauron in the past, is indirectly pointed to in that scene with Sam musing about Beren and the quest for the Silmaril. I contend the weakening of the antagonistic force vis-a-vis its earlier incarnations is balanced out by the weakening of the heroes.

When it comes to hooking in a reader, the most important point is to establish a sympathetic bond with someone or something (or things) in the story, and then establishing the antagonistic force as a credible threat to that someone or something. The more dire the threat, the greater the tension, and the more the reader will be drawn in. The secret is that the direness of the threat actually has very little to do with the absolute values of the antagonists' and the protagonists' respective powers, but in how well they are calibrated against each other.

Sauron may be less powerful than before, but he still has the ability to cover the world in a second darkness, so his threat is still great, and the heroes are in a much worse position to fight him than were their predecessors. Throughout the trilogy, Tolkien does a masterful job (better than most of his literary descendants) of demonstrating for the reader how overwhelming Sauron's power is in relation to the heroes, and how puny their own is against him. Power on both sides may have decreased in absolute terms since the last confrontation, but Sauron's power relative to the free peoples has greatly increased, making the tension even greater.


This point about the relative strengths of protagonists and antagonists occurred to me some years ago, when contemplating another incident from Lord of the Rings - I trust few will be surprised it also involved Sam Gamgee. Specifically, I've always thought one of the greatest and most emotionally affecting moments of heroism in all of Tolkien's Legendarium (one which the Boyens-Jackson-Walsh trilogy portrayed superbly) is Sam carrying Frodo up the slope of Mount Doom in Book 6, when Frodo becomes too weary to continue on his own.

Looked at in terms of absolute power, this is hardly a remarkable feat. Apart from Merry and Pippin, any other member of the Fellowship could accomplish the task with little effort, as could most of the friendly people they meet outside the Shire over the course of the trilogy, except for Bergil, since he's only 10 years old. But that doesn't matter, because none of them are in a position to carry Frodo, only Sam is, and the fact that it's an incredible undertaking for Sam (rather than it being an incredible undertaking for anyone), is one of the things which gives this part of the story such immense narrative impact.
 
Hi Lincoln,

Love your post.

I would just suggest one thing. A hero is a hero. The relative 'mightiness' of their prowess is not very important. Heroes are very rare.

You reference people who sheltered Jews in Nazi Europe. Well, how many Schindlers stood up to be heroes in the face of all the risks and dangers. Not many. Maybe a few dozen. How many joined in the Nazi party or actively collaborated in atrocities? Millions. How many turned a blind eye and remained silent? More millions.

Heroes are very rare. Most people are conformists. It is easy to slip into evil one step at a time. Most of us would probably do so.

So, it does not really matter if the heroes of the past are mightier than we. (Though I suspect there is always a tendency to think that they were, whether true or not.) The fact is that heroes of any might should be celebrated. And, if people can draw inspiration to be heroes now, due to the influence of tales of heroes past, then that is wholly good.

The world has never had enough heroes.
 
To a large extent, I agree, although I think practically everyone has the potential to be a hero under the right circumstances. Martin Luther King Jr. didn't set out to lead a great movement for liberation - he was appointed to lead the bus boycott by the membership of the Montgomery Improvement Association, and things took off from there. I also think of all the rank-and-file freedom workers who formed the social movements that ended formal segregation in the US South, or apartheid in South Africa, or removed dictators in Chile, the Philippines, and the former Soviet bloc.

I think we can see this at work in Lord of the Rings, in a passage from "Fog on the Barrow-Downs" I'm sorry we didn't explore further, despite taking an awful long time on that chapter. Even though we readers are humans (Men, in Tolkien's lexicon), I think our closest parallel in the trilogy is with the Hobbits, and in "Fog on the Barrow-Downs," Tolkien writes: "There is a seed of courage hidden (often deeply, it is true) in the heart of the fattest and most timid hobbit, waiting for some final and desperate danger to make it grow."

I'm certainly not the first person to draw this hobbit connection. Five years ago, Srdja Popovic, a leader of the student group Otpor! which brought down Serbian dictator Slobodan Milosevic, published an article in the Guardian reminding us, among other things, that "Hobbits [i.e., ordinary, unassuming individuals] can save the world."

"if people can draw inspiration to be heroes now, due to the influence of tales of heroes past, then that is wholly good."

I think both Tolkien and Popovic would agree with that.
 
The world has never had enough heroes.
There's a line in David Brin's novel Earth (if I'm remembering correctly) to the effect that we may eventually eliminate war and soldiers, but the world will always need heroes.

One of the great heroes of the twentieth century was the Tianamen Square "tankman" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tank_Man .
We don't know who he was, what happened to him, or why he did what he did. And very few young Chinese men or women have ever heard of him at all.

[edit] and now I'm adding a quote from a Harry Potter fan fic to this post:
Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality said:
Most books didn't say 'And then they refused to give up, no matter how sensible it would have been, because that would've been too embarrassing'; but a great deal of history made a lot more sense that way.
 
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Great example. Although - and I feel this is relevant, but I'm not sure how - that article reports claims that, actually, a lot of people were blocking tanks in a similar manner at the time, and Tank Man was just the only one to be caught on film doing so. (This claim was also reported by US journalist and author Philip Cunningham in an interview about Tiananmen Square I saw several years ago.) Again, not sure how that fits into the conversation, and certainly not intending to diminish the heroism of the guy in any way, but I feel like it's pertinent that he may not have been the only one.
 
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