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Originally Posted by Galadriel55
I often wondered that Gondolin did not realy achieve its purpose. It was meant to be a secret deadly weapon to Morgoth. But when Turgon came out, he gave some hopes, but didn't give victory. And later on, he decided not to go out at all, and the whole kingdom was destroyed. This was because he did not heed Ulmo's warning.
Didn't this make everything futile? The secrecy, training the warriors, etc? Gondolin bothered Morgoth only in his thoughts. In reality, it didn't really make a difference.
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No, it did. Remember Huor's words to Turgon when he urged the king to retreat, that from the two of them should rise a new star?
That's the whole and only purpose of Gondolin in the long run (and never mind that Turgon had different ideas) - a place which would stand long enough for Eärendil to be born there and grow. Ulmo knew all along that the Noldor had no chance against Morgoth; the only hope they ever had was a messenger who would finally reach the Valar and move them to intervene.
But still:
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Originally Posted by Formy
I think the difference for me lies less in the fact that the two have different narrative content and more in the fact that I find myself hoping against hope in reading the Silmarillion that the Elves will be successful, whereas I know in The Children of Húrin that this defeat is a necessary precondition for all the sorrows of Túrin that follow. This probably says something about Tolkien's ability to project the hope of the Elves even in the middle of their doom, and possibly something less flattering about me.
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Me too, everytime I read Fingon's cry before the battle:
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"Utúlië 'n aure! Aiya Eldalië ar Atanatari, utúlië 'n aure! The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!"
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This is one of the most heart-wrenchingly moving moments Tolkien ever wrote, along with
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"Great horns of the North wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last."
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- and doesn't it make you sooo wish for it to come true? But where in LotR the arrival of the Rohirrim is the point where the battle starts to turn, in the Nirnaeth it all comes to ruin.
But the most poignant passage in this chapter (at least for me) is the one at the beginning of the battle, when Gelmir, taken captive in the Bragollach, is chopped to bits within sight of his brother Gwindor (yes,
that Gwindor) in order to provoke a premature attack; and Gwindor, disregarding all tactical considerations (and who can blame him?), charges, and Fingon follows suit, and they march over Anfauglith, scattering Morgoth's troops, right up to the walls of Angband (
Go!, I cheer them, while rereading it); and Gwindor and his troop, fighting foremost, break through the gates and reach the stairs inside and hammer on Morgoth's doors (
Go Gwindor go!), and Morgoth himself trembles hearing them, and -
- and of course they're trapped and slain to the last man, except Gwindor. He's taken alive.
You need to let that sink in. This is a fate you wouldn't wish on your worst foe, if you have one. Being slain in the Nirnaeth would have been a mercy. And when he escapes after long years of slavery and torture,
a bent and fearful shadow of his former shape and mood, does he find peace and healing? No, he has to run into Túrin, and we all know the rest of the story.
Yes, I have a very weak spot in my heart for this guy. Somehow his life story is all the tragedy of the Silmarillion
in nuce.