The Silmarillion (Book Review)

 Among Lord of the Rings nerds, there are several levels of intensity.

1. At the lowest, you have those that have only watched the movies.
2. Next you have people that have both watched the movies and read the books.
3. Then it's people that have read the books and The Hobbit.
4. Then people that have read The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and The Silmarillion
5. Then people that have read The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion, and all the additional works ie. Beren and Luthien, Unfinished Tales etc

For most of my life I've been a Level 3, but I've recently upgraded to 4. Sometimes I get criticized for being a hater due to my criticism of how Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs are portrayed. But I would argue that no genuine hater could become a Level 4.

The Silmarillion is a work by J.R.R. Tolkien that wasn't published while he was alive. It's a history of the universe he created, and mostly I think, used as a reference to help him stay consistent when writing The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Because of this, it feels a little rougher and there are times that I had to remind myself that it wasn't made for public consumption.

It eventually got published by his son, Christopher Tolkien, who edited and stitched together the notes of his father into something similar to a cohesive story.

While the title of the book is The Silmarillion, that is only the largest of a set of stories, the others being Ainulindale, Valaquenta, Akallabeth, and Of The Rings of Power And the Third Age.

A lot of these words have accents that my Canadian keyboard doesn't grant easy access to. I'm not going to learn how to make them, so this review is going to contain a lot of misspellings. There are an overwhelming and unnecessary number of names throughout the story. Not only does everything have a unique translation between the tongues of Elves and Men, but sometimes there will be words for additional races, or factions, or they change based on chronology.

J.R.R. Tolkien had two loves. One was folklore and the other was linguistics. His work was meant to bring these together, and to provide his country of England with the myth and fairytale he felt it lacked. I would say he did this successfully considering how most of modern-day fantasy set in the past is some variation of his work, and Elvish is a fully functional language. Still, sometimes it feels like he goes a little crazy with the unnecessary details.

The book starts off with the tale of Illuvatar, essentially the Christian conception of God, and the Valar, basically angels, whose actions take the form of climate change. It switches focus to be about the Elves, who are "the first children of Iluvatar", immortal beings tied to a human-like form. Eventually we get Men, similar in likeness to Elves but "gifted" with the fate of death. 

Inside this we have the Mayar, which are basically lesser Valar and the race to which the Wizards belong. They are immortal with the ability to cast spells, but they are more corporeal and can't change the climate in such grand ways. We also have the Dwarves and Orcs.

Since it begins with the eldest and most conceptual race, then moves to describe younger, more physical ones, and eventually those with finite lifespans, this book's pace slows down steadily throughout.

The first story, Ainulindale, is pretty much the Biblical Old Testiment. Iluvatar creates the Valar. Together, they create Arda, which is the world. The mightiest of the Valar, known as Melkor, becomes envious of Iluvatar and tries to become as powerful as Him. This creates a terrific rift that shapes everything.

The land of Aman is created to house the Valar and Mayar, sort of a proxy to Heaven, and Middle Earth is left to Melkor. Eventually it is learned that Elves and Men would be introduced to Middle Earth, and they decide to give the Elves the opportunity to live in Aman, safe from the dark lord's machinations.

One kind of weird element of the story is that the Elves are called the Quendi, the first children of Iluvatar, and Men (humans are referred to as such) are the second, known as  the Edain. This is because only two races that use language should ever walk Middle Earth.

It feels like there's a lot more than that though. Usually there's some loophole, but some feel inexcusable.

The Valar and Mayar are excepted because they are supposed to belong to a separate branch of life entirely, not being native to Middle Earth, and originating before Elves and Men.

The Orcs, despite technically being the second race to use language, don't count as they were created by Melkor. Since only Iluvatar can create life he resorted to twisting the bodies and minds of Elves into a mockery of their original form, afterwards known as the Orc race.

The Dwarves were crafted by Aule the Valar in anticipation of Elves and Men, but he could not grant them life. Iluvatar liked them, so he completed them under the condition that they don't count as being in the same category as the first or second children.

This covers the "humanoid" races that came before Men, but if the credential really is using language, then we also have:

The Ents, ancient trees that Yavanna granted sentience and mobility in response to Aule creating the Dwarves, so they might protect the forests from their greed. I suppose Iluvatar gave them the Dwarf treatment, but it isn't specified.

Ungoliant, who is the manifestation of Melkor's darkness, takes the form of a giant Spider and has the ability to speak. Her power is Unlight, and I must wonder, if Unlight is the opposite of Light, then wouldn't Goliant be the opposite of Ungolliant? But we never figure out what Goliant is, or why she's the opposite of it.

She has a bunch of kids, including Shelob, who we meet in Lord of the Rings. Since Melkor was able to manifest a creature capable of speach and reproduction, does this not violate the rule of him being unable to create life?

These are the talking races to appear before Men. There weren't supposed to be any after, but we still have:

Hobbits, obviously very influential in the main works. Supposedly they are an offshoot of Men and don't count as a distinct race.

There are Trolls, but they are made in mockery of Ents the same way Orcs are of Elves.

Then there are talking Wolves, Dragons, Bats, Eagles, and Dogs.

I've got a theory about the Wolves and Bats actually.

Throughout the main works, we see modern incarnations of all the races except for the Bats, referred to as Vampires. Intelligent wolves are known as Wargs, but in The Silmarillion they are called Werewolves. They are described as intelligent souls attached to the bodies of wolves. Therefore, I think that Werewolves are the original experiments, made from life that Melkor twisted, with the Wargs being their offspring. 

Similarly, the Vampires are likely to be bats with souls sealed inside them. It's more of a reach, but the Fell Beasts that the Ringwraiths ride may be the descendants of Vampires.

After getting the descriptions of the races, I wondered if this meant that Orcs were immortal. They certainly don't give that impression, but since they were originally Elves, it doesn't make sense for them to lose their longevity. On looking it up, it appears that Orcs of the Third Age have a lifespan slightly shorter than Men, but it's noted that some of Sauron's company had seen the ancient days. It's easy to imagine here that the original Orcs were indeed immortal, but over generations their longevity slowly decreased. Some speculate that the Goblin King in The Hobbit was one of the orginal Orcs, as he appeared to have personal memories of ancient wars.

Inherited sin is a big theme in The Silmarillion. Among the Elves, also known as the Quendi, or "First Children of Iluvatar",  were the ones willing to to follow Tulkas the Valar from Middle Earth to Aman.  These would be be called the Eldar, or the Light Elves. 

However, a faction of them split off when one of the leaders, Thingol, fell in love with a Maya named Melian and they chose to stay in Middle Earth. Because Thingol had previously seen the light of Aman and because their people were established partly by a native of that land, this faction is referred to as the Sindar, or "Grey Elves".

Those that refused to follow Tulkas all together were called the "Avari", "The Unwilling", or "Dark Elves". Among these people, the ones that were taken by Melkor were twisted into Orcs. They were considered a distinct race with no hope for rehabillitation.

So you can see there's a gradiant of nobility based on the behaviours of the initial members of these factions.  Not much room for social mobility.

But it doesn't end there. Even among the Eldar, they are divided into three categories based on how quickly they made it to Aman. 

The first group would be known as the Vanyar, closest to Manwe, the Valar representing the sky, second in strength only to Melkor. 

The next group to make it would be the Noldor, closest to Aule, father of Dwarves and closest to earth. 

Then the third was the Teliri, who loved the sea and were closest to Ulmo who maintained a love for Middle Earth and shared his time between. They came within the borders of Aman, but came last and stayed on an island just off its shores. They are also the people who had a faction splinter off on their initial journey to become Grey Elves.

The whole basis of this hierarchy reeks of "The sins of the father are the sins of the son" and is a continuation of much of my complaints of The Lord of the Rings.

That being said, the Elves are much more likeable in this book. Because they are being compared with incorporeal beings, and magical people older than them. Even being compared with one another instead of with mortals makes them much more "human".

The premise of the main portion of The Silmarillion is that one of the Noldor Elves, Feanor, crafts three jewels, called the Silmarils. After Melkor destroys the light of Aman, the Valar appeal to Feanor to sacrifice his treasure to heal their land. He refuses, only to have them stolen by the same guy that caused darkness to wash over the land in the first place.

Enraged, Feanor declares war chiefly on Melkor (who he now renames Morgoth) in an effort to reclaim the Silmarils, but secondarily on all the Valar for sharing lineage with the dark lord of Middle Earth. This leads to his people committing the crime of kinslaying, and falling under a doom (curse, or dark prophecy).

In the Lord of the Rings, I only remember the Elves being treated as entities above the reproach of mortals, even when they behaved in ways I felt were insufferable. Seeing them succumb to greed and wrath, causing them to engage in scandals that have consequences makes them feel more grounded.

One of the issues of having much of this drama occur on Aman, an allegory for heaven, is that nothing is supposed to ever die there. So Ungoliant killing the trees of the sun and moon, and the Noldor killing the Teliri for their ships feels awkward. We're told that Elves, after being killed get reincarnated back in Aman, but at a time they cannot control. It still lessens the severity of the kinslaying a bit.

J.R.R. Tolkien definitely has a thing for dominant women. He has Thingol, the original Grey Elf, marry Melian, a Maya. Then his daughter Luthien marries a mortal Man named Beren. 

I understand the difference in consequence between these two relationship dynamics. In the first generation there is a power imbalance, and the sacrifice is that the Teliri don't get to see Aman. For the second generation, Melian has to relinquish her immortality, which for the Elves is tantamount to a death sentence. Still, I wish it were acknowledged by Thingol that his daughter, like he, wished to enter a mixed relationship, even as he renounced it.

In The Lord of the Rings, we see this dynamic again with Aragorn, a human Man, and Arwen, a half-Elf that becomes mortal for love. I can't think of an instance where the male gives up status for the female.

Finrod Felagund is the coolest Elf by far. He's the only one to visit the halls of the Dwarves, and leans heavily on their aid in crafting the city of Nargothrond. Originally just named Finrod, the Dwarves gifted him with the title "Felagund", and their great necklace Nauglamir, both of which he wore proudly even among his Elven peers.

Despite Dwarves being the race known for their craftsmanship, I think this is the only example of a named item not made by Elves. The Silmarils, all the Rings of Power, and all the named blades are Elvish.

Finrod Felagund was also the first to encounter Men. He was brought to tears by their beauty, approached them, and sang them songs about the world. Other Elves were not so welcoming, worried about being "replaced by an inferior race".

Eventually, he finds himself caught between two contrasting oaths, one for the Elves, and one of Men. He decides that his obligation to Men is greater, and accompanies Beren on his quest to retrieve the Silmarils from Morgoth.

He meets his doom after being imprisoned on this journey. Breaking the chains binding him, he wrestles a Werewolf to death, becoming mortally wounded in the process but allowing Beren to continue his journey.  A very strong final showing for the least xenophobic Elf ever.

Although we shouldn't reserve xenophobia as a purely Elvish trait. I want to talk a little bit about the story of Mim. He's a minor character within the saga of Turin, but I felt the way that he was represented was pretty strange.  When Turin and his crew come upon three small Dwarves, they capture one and shoot arrows at the other two. In exchange for his life, the captured Dwarf Mim offers to bring his captors to his home.

When they reach their destination, his two fleeing companions, now revealed to be his sons, have also returned. One of them has been mortally wounded by an arrow. Touched, Turin offers his services to what remains of the little Dwarf family.

The way I described it sounds like it should evoke sympathy for Mim, right? But the book speaks offhandedly of his capture, the fact it was unprovoked, done with intent of thievery, and that his son is murdered. Mim expressly offers passage to his home under fear of death, presumably thinking that he would be robbed further.

What the book does emphasize is how gracious Turin is for apologizing and offering his services. That he reminds Mim of the nobility of ancient Dwarf Lords and wins his favour. But what does he actually give? It sounds like his company freeloads off the Dwarves, living in their quarters, using it as a home base and essentially holding them hostage.

Mim winds up leading a gang of Orcs back to his halls who slaughter most of the company. After the dust settles, he tries to finish off a wounded Elf that was part of the group, although he's unsuccessful. His actions do not depict someone filled with gratitude.

Later, Turin's father Hurin returns to rob the little Dwarf. He reveals that he knows of what had transpired. Despite Turin surviving the encounter, he kills Mim as revenge, almost as an afterthought.

I just can't get behind the behaviour of the Men, treated by the book as anti-heroes. This is likely due to their noble heritage and our knowledge of the tragedies they've suffered. But I think the so-called "Petty Dwarves", depiction as weak, ungrateful and dishonest was disrespectful on behalf of the book to say the least. By far the greater share of guilt should be given to Turin and Hurin, who behaved as nothing better than thieves and murderers.

I don't want to give the impression that I will always side with Dwarf over Elf, though. In The Lord of the Rings, it's well-known that the tension between Legolas and Gimle is based on some ancient, ancestral grievance. In The Silmarillion, we learn of its origins.

After a Silmaril comes into Thingol's possession, he hires a host of Dwarves to attach it to the Nauglamir. After completion, the smiths claim it for themselves, arguing that the necklace was originally Dwarven. Rightly, Thingol protests that The Silmaril belongs to the Elves and that they had not made this claim before taking the job. Impulsively, the Dwarves slay the Grey Elf and claim the treasure for their own.

So while I generally favour Dwarves, in this case the ancestral feud is pretty much solely their fault.

Some context may be lost due to the detached writing style of The Silmarillion. The degree to which this is true struck me when it finally got to the part that covered all of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Despite being four massive books in their own right, in this book's historical voice, all of its content only counts for four of its 366 pages. By comparison, Beren and Luthien's adventure was worth 34. Sauron the wicked Maya and his Rings of Power are small potatoes compared with Morgoth the Valar and the Silmarils. 

I was sad to see that, despite Frodo assuring Sam that history would hold him in just as important standing as he, in The Silmarillion, he is only briefly mentioned as a servant and not named.