Where are we going...?

Timdalf

Active Member
As I try to make sense of the Silmarillion material -- which is what I was doing during the last -- 12/18/15-- podcast when I asked, "Is there some inherent flaw in the Valar that enables all this deterioration to happen" and Prof Corey replied, "their free will". Right, of course. But... I meant the question to go a bit deeper than that. Yes, free will is the mechanism that enables wrong choices like Melkor's and the Valar who make errors in judgement (incl. the eventual problems with the Elves who refuse to leave Middle-earth for Valinor) like Aule's creation of dwarves, or the (to me) most baffling "mistake" of the Valar: the summons of the Elves to Valinor. Baffling because I don't see why it is a mistake! I find describing that summons as a "mistake" so very problematic. If Valinor is a paradise, why is calling the Elves into it a mistake. Isn't the mistake that of the Elves who refuse to go or get distracted/detoured on the way there?

My question really was: "Why do they -- Valar now, and Elves down the road -- misuse their free will?" Is there something in their very identities that actually, concretely evokes, through free will, the realization of the potential for degeneration?

In other words, I am trying to follow the ethical logic of what Tolkien has given us... assuming there is one and that the material is not just a jumble of nice stories that have no inner consistency meant to beguile us entertainingly and further, are unfinished at that!

Or let me put it this way: OK, so free will enables wrong choices. But why are the wrong choices made at all? If we are given such superior beings as Valar and Elves, why don't they have the simple good sense to do the right thing?! Why does Melkor misuse his free will? Or Aule? Or the Elves?

Since Melkor is much in the "news" these days, the focuse of the podcasts,... yes, he is an arrogant SOB full of himself, but why does he choose to let that rule his choices? (I think this issue is at the root of Prof. Corey's drive to make Melkor, not justified, but understandable, as it were; that his choices to go it alone arise naturally, almost surreptitiously to take over his personality)?

Let me suggest this as an answer: Tolkien is not just fabricating nice stories of adventure and impressive beings. He is actually trying to create edifying thought experiments: Namely: what would it be like if we had our fondest wish fulfilled? That being: to live everlastingly. Or what would it be like if indeed instead of the All-holy Trinity with its theology of unity with diversity -- for the perfect minimal social number is three. (Just two in a relationship can get self-absorbed, but if you have three this is ontologically avoided -- I can't go into examples here, but I suggest to you the American Constitution with 3 branches, or the tragedy of Tristan und Isolde where obliviousness to the third party results in disaster)... as I say, having digressed, instead of the Trinity one had polytheism (which was so in vogue in 18th and 19th c. classically oriented academic and literary English culture that was Tolkien's milieu -- that is, a nostalgia for the Ancient Pagan world that raised it to paradigmatic status)?

In other words, the Valar and Elves are *not* ideals, but warnings. Not wish fulfillments, but caveats. In the first instance, because polytheism leads to demeaning conflicts within its "divine"... Homer and the ancient poets are full of this sort of very un-divine behaviour! And in the second instance, if we were to live everlastingly without first becoming ethically perfected, we only would find ourselves in perpetual misery. The idea here as Tolkien stated: death is a blessing, not a curse, given not just our fallibility, but the agony of the ruinousness of that fallibility. Not least because we would be still in a mortal world dying around us while we live on, and on, and on... Not to mention ontological problems with how does one deal with the cycle of generations. Imagine elvish marriages... They have a child at 600 years, 800 years, 1200 years, 3000 years.... How does this work!? Or what about the problem of simple tedium with living that long? Or the more drastic problem of how this longevity apparently is totally independent of ethical integrity (the two of which are inextricably co-dependent in the Judeao-Christian worldview!). But more importantly than these practical problems, is the real problem of the soul-body amalgamated creatures that we are; our physical law of degeneration is coinherent (loaded word!) in our ethical degeneration. We die because we morally are weak, and we are morally weak because we die: The fear of the end is the source of all lovelessness. This is core Christian (and we can never forget Tolkien was very much a Christian) tenet of our psychology, our anthropology, our humanness.

What I am saying is that I think the more Tolkien lived with his initial impulse to create the Valar and the Elves he more and more sensed these sorts of problems were just over the horizon (like Wellington's troops behind the hill at Waterloo -- result: defeat of the greatest military mind since Caesar!). This, I submit, is the real reason he did not finish and work out and make the Silmarillion more than just a prose abstract of his cultural PhD "thesis"! It couldn't be finished... just as the frame narrative attempts of the Book of Lost Tales led to insurmountable problems... or the flat-earth/straight road "trope" he foresaw would lead to astronomical problems for a modern reader... So the two most basic features of his legendarium led to such improbabilities that violated the "green sun principle" of his subcreative work: that there be an inner consistency in the imaginary world that would make it believable, and thus effective in the reader's imagination.

But there is a within this conundrum a surprising resolution of it:

You see, if this is really what Tolkien is about (perhaps unconsciously? intuitively), then the very problematics of everlasting existence and polytheism are not obstacles, but very point of the exercise. Such a world cannot exist for us because it violates our most central premises of our ethical criteria.

My point, then: Until we have resolved these implications -- either that we want to embody the problematics of the thought experiments, or we want to resolve the problems generated by the nature of the Tolkien subcreated world, these both overarching and fundamental problems, we cannot even begin to render The Silmarillion material into a coherent and believable world that is anything more than just a haphazard, serialized episodic adventure yarn, as entertaining as that might be. This was the problem with the Medieval Romances (which were the mini-series, I guess, of the courts of their day). They just rambled on and on (like the comic strip Prince Valiant does after 75 years of King Features Syndicate)!! Getting no where, really. And no matter how detailed we get with a "close reading of the text", which is perhaps fascinating, but tends to end up wandering forever in the fogs of the Barrow Downs or the ravines of the Old Forest in need of a Tom Bombadil to get back into an ethically coherent plot.

I am not, by the way, saying we should devolve into a "Pilgrim's Regress" or Narnia Chronicles sort of allegorization... That is the other extreme. But (to pun) there has to be coherent thread (!), a guiding star, a "through composed" standard around which our forces can rally and lift us out of the fog of war, the chaos of detail, and into a genuinely meaningful arc of the development of the character of Middle-earth itself, of its Valarian "guardians" and its Elvish "inhabitants" if there is to be any aesthetic unity to the end result.

And we have to face the reality, that this has to be (however flexibly) somehow established before all else can be worked out and the result be a really effective work of art.
 
I think a lot of what you are saying hits the nail on the head. What would you do if you were going to live forever?

A lot of our progress in the medical field goes towards extending the human lifespan. We put tons of man-hours and treasure into living just a little bit longer. Judeo-Christian tradition gives us a clear reason as to why our lives are limited. The world we live in is now flawed. It is not merely a punishment that we leave it, but a gift, as Tolkien famously pointed out in his letters.

Are the stories of the Valar (who are not perfect in that they are not omniscient and sometimes make errors in judgement), or the Elves setting us up to understand the gift of Death to Men. The Elves are stuck here. Forever. So are the Valar. Doomed to remain here and to diminish in power and glory until the end of the world.

In a world marred, to a degree, by their own mistakes.
 
The point of view of the Quenta Silmarillion (the History of the Elves) is, of course, elvish. The transmission of the story, however, allows for some mitigation of that as the story is exposed to a mortal audience (both young Estel in our Season 1 frame story, as well as Tolkien's use of Bilbo's 'Translations from the Elvish' and the Red Book...but also us, the actual audience!). Elves want to escape from Deathlessness as much as we seek to escape from our mortality. The crowning story of the Silmarillion, the one filled with the most hope and having the brightest star shining in the darkness....is the story of Beren and Luthien. Sure, it's a love story, but more significantly than that, it's a story about an immortal escaping the Circles of the World - only Luthien 'dies indeed.' The trick is to make a human audience view that as a triumph rather than a tragedy.

It is very possible that making the story of the Valar 'history' that we see enacted in real time by real people will destroy the possibility of certain interpretations of the narrators. This early material is straight-up mythic. It's not meant to feel like history - it's meant to feel mostly timeless. The characters are all archetypes, not 'people'.

The more thought I give to this, the more I think that it might be a serious mistake to attempt such a straight-forward telling of the history of the Valar. I mean, yes, on one level, we get to know them as we don't in their brief appearances in the Valaquenta, so that is positive. We'll understand why they do what they do, and Manwë will look compassionate rather than a fool. Great! But...

But we lose something this way, too. We lose the entire feeling of everything Tolkien did - he always gave us glimpses of unexplored vistas, and his stories have a weight of a very long and rich history behind them. Tolkien's stories don't occur in a vacuum! Middle Earth feels very 'real', not just because he meticulously gave us languages and an entire line of kings, but because it's clear that there's yet more we just don't know, but it is still...there.

By telling this 'first history' directly, we burn away the mists and look directly at the most basic underpinning layer. That is dangerous, and potentially *extremely* disappointing.

I'll have to think on this, to see if there is some way to salvage what I'm worried about losing here.
 
Let me see if I can help.

I think you may be seeing myth and history as different in a way that I don't think Tolkien ever did. Does the story of Hercules diminish by a direct telling? The Trojan War? The ring sagas? The Exodus?

The stories of the Valar are part of what gives Tolkien's world so much weight. They must be included in some way, and to limit it to a brief exposition... I think does them a disservice. I think that with clever use of the frame setting, we can avoid the feeling that we know everything that is and has happened. There is still a great deal that we don't know, and even if we fill in some of the white space, we won't be filling it all in.

Why does Eru make the Ainur? Why the Music? Why Ea?

Telling the mythic stories fulfills the same impulse that brought us the Lord of the Rings, and then the Silmarillion. If telling a tale takes something away from it, why have tales at all?
 
A very interesting and important discussion. My thoughts have been going along the same lines as MithLuin's. Of course, you are right Nicholas, we don't take away anything from a tale by telling it. But there are different ways of telling a tale. A storyteller conjures images in the minds of the listener. A film shows almost all pictures that make up the story. Luckily we will never actually make a Silmarillion film, only a great fantasy about one, but still, there is something about what we're doing that sometimes- not all the time - gives me the feeling that when we are defining the exact particular details, when we're catching the dreamy parts of the myth, that they sort of stiffen, lose colour and die. Our struggle to make every event logical and concrete - maybe it's not suitable for these early parts of the tale. I'm not extremely concerned but maybe we should treat the stories with a slightly lighter touch. Or is the way we are creating the frame a mistake?
Oh I realise this has nothing to do with your initial question Timdalf. Sorry.
 
I think there are so many things that we won't see, that visually representing the key events will not diminish the wonder in them. I suppose that it all depends on how you view film depiction, though. If you do see it as something inherently magical or not. Also, I think that the case you are making could be applied to the level of scrutiny under which we are putting the material. There is something to the idea that one should not look _to_ closely at art, but I feel that the insights gained outweigh any potential loss of wonder.
 
Back to Timdalf's original point (before I derailed the discussion with 'unexplored vistas' and an illusory sense of depth and history), I think that Laws and Customs of the Eldar is important background reading for those 'inventing' scenes from elvish life. Yes, true, we are *not* going to take any material directly from there. But...we should be aware of Tolkien's thoughts on these topics.

For instance - no, it would be very unusual for an elvish couple to have children thousands of years apart. Elves typically married shortly after they reached full maturity (in the 50-100 year range for 'coming of age'), though they could delay for various reasons if they wished. Both marriage and childbearing were saved for times of peace (like in Valinor) and were not considered appropriate during times of war (like in Middle Earth during the 1st Age). The 'time of the children' was limited to one portion of the marriage; after that time passed, no more kids. Arwen is about 100 years younger than her brothers, so that is about as much of a gap as can be expected. There is also a strong implication that elves are only fertile if they want to be, having a much different body-mind connection than humans.

[As a note, the half-elven often mature at the rate of mortals, so can reach maturity (and thus marry) at the age of 20-25. See Earendil and Elwing.]

Elvish culture, elvish concerns....we have the problem of Deathlessness, not the problem of Death. An elf does not remarry after the death of a spouse, but merely(!) awaits the spouse's rebirth and subsequent reunion. Elves are immortal beings stuck in a changing world, watching all the mortal creatures around them growing and dying repeatedly, and all their work crumbling away. The weariness and fading of the elves is where you work in that moral failing that you are accustomed to tying to mortality in a human-centric Judeo-Christian story.

They can fear the end - when Arda ends, do they end, too, facing complete annihilation? Or is there some hope and existence for them beyond the Circles of the World? They don't know, and that...is more than a bit scary. There is also the Void - they are aware of it, and it makes an appearance in Fëanor's oath.

I think there are valid 'theological' concerns in the material, but I also think that with a bit of effort, we can address them creatively as needed.
 
the more powerful you are the deeper you may fall...

and Elves can be quite very powerful. I think of them as more extreme humans... more intelligent, more wise, more creative, more passionate, but also maybe more outrageous, more vengueful, more scornful... feanor for example is a fire-spirit indeed.
 
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