Silmarillion - Chapter 21 - Of Túrin Turambar

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

Would you care to elaborate? Do you mean there is something in the depiction of Morwen that involves his own personal relationship with his mother? Or do you mean something more general about his ideas concerning pride?

I hadn't thought very deeply about it. The idea came to me as an afterthought at the end of my post. I think it's more likely that Tolkien identified a certain tendency in that direction in himself, although he was quick to deny it. This would explain his preoccupation with tollkühn, and his use of its anglicised form Rashbold in the Notion Club material at least twice (although it should always be noted that he was forever using translations of or punning references to his name in other languages). Certainly I detect an uncertainty at several points in his literary career over the rightness from a Catholic perspective of his continued sub-creation, which he may have sometimes seen as presumption. Such second-guessing tempts fate to say the least, so I preferred to leave the question open to suggestions. It seems unlikely to me, though, that Morwen embodies Tolkien's opinion of his own mother. If that were the case I would expect far more sympathetic a character, to judge by the references he makes to his parents in his published letters.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

A quick question - there's so much material to discuss in this chapter, plus the further versions of the story - would you all like to continue for the next week? If all's been said, I'll go on to the next chapter as planned tomorrow.

[Bêthberry]

Time now only for an announcement rather than a response to anything, which will come later.

I've just noticed there's an article with an interesting title in the current issue of Mythlore that could touch on discussion here. If anyone subscribes, perhaps said Downer could provide a summary or review?

Article is titled "Turin and Aragorn: Embracing and Evading Fate", by Janet Brennan Croft.

[Aiwendil]

For the sake of completeness, here are the brief notes on the history of the story I had originally put together for these discussions:

The tale of Turin is probably, of all the stories of the Silmarillion, the one that Tolkien spent the most time on, and it exists in myriad forms. It appears first as the tale of 'Turambar and the Foaloke' in the 'Book of Lost Tales'. Then it was the subject of one of the long lays Tolkien worked on during the 1920s - which, though it extends for more than 2,000 lines, goes no further than Turin's living in Nargothrond. Short synopses of the story appear in the 'Sketch of the Mythology' and the 'Quenta Noldorinwa'. Based on these and on the 'Lay', a longer prose version was begun for the 1937 'Quenta Silmarillion', but this version breaks off after the death of Orgof/Saeros.

After the completion of The Lord of the Rings, the story of Turin was one of the first pieces of the Silmarillion that Tolkien returned to, writing a long prose narrative beginning with Turin's arrival in Brethil and continuing to the end of the story. Then the full story was told again, in briefer form, as part of the 'Grey Annals'. Finally, in the later 1950s, Tolkien wrote a long prose form of the earlier parts of the 'Narn', petering out before the battle on Amon Rudh. This, together with the long form of the later ports of the story mentioned above, constitutes the 'Narn i Chin Hurin'.

Additional readings
HoMe II - 'Lost Tales' version
HoMe III - The 'Lay of the Children of Hurin'
HoMe IV - Short versions in 'Sketch of the Mythology' and 'Quenta Noldorinwa'
HoMe V - Unfinished 'Quenta Silmarillion' version
HoMe XI - 'Grey Annals' version and several variant endings
UT - The 'Narn i Chin Hurin' and associated fragments
The Children of Hurin - A polished and prettified presentation of the 'Narn'.

[Galadriel55]

It is interesting how much detail and weight and importance Turin's story has both in the history of Arda and in Tolkien's mind (as evident from Aiwendil's post), even though it is like an aside in the history of the Silmarilli, bing unconnected to them(at least directly). It of course deserves to be such, but it does makes me wonder.

[Inziladun]

Since we're still technically on this chapter, I thought of another reason to feel little pity for Túrin.

The man was warned of Morgoth's special hatred of his family, and the curse thereof.

When Túrin had been healed at Eithel Ivrin after accidentally killing Beleg, Gwindor told him that his father Húrin lived, and that

'.....rumour of him runs through Angband that he still defies Morgoth; and Morgoth has laid a curse upon him and all his kin.'
'That I do believe,' said Túrin.

You'd think being told that an incarnate evil Vala has it in for you might cause one to be especially mindful of one's conduct, and to seek the advice of the wise. Yet Túrin still found it in himself to scorn Gelmir and Arminas in Nargothrond, spurning the counsel of none other than Ulmo.

Nah. Túrin had it rougher than many, but still the road laid out for him by Morgoth had many branches. Túrin had many opportunities to turn aside, and ultimately the blame is his that he did not.

[Galadriel55]

But again, we as readers know that following Ulmo's, Gwindor's, Beleg's, and etc's advice would have done Turin good. But in Turin's place that choice is not as obvious. It is a choice between honourable and fair battle, and hiding like a coward; a choice between taking another step to your goals, and going back on your decisions and giving up everything that you've done to reach your goals.

And yet again, the fall of Nargothrond, Doriath, and Gondolin brought many tears, but they also brought the only hope. If they stood, Earendil wouldn't have met Elwing, who wouldn't have given him the Silmaril.

Moreover, we don't know how the story would have been if Turin took a different course of action. We think that if he fought his pride and stayed in Doriath he would meet Morwen and Ninenor and later Hurin and live "happily ever after". Well, not really, but he would have a happier end. And what if something happened that would cause disastorous events in Doriath? Such as the sac of Doriath being before Elwing got the Silmaril? That would have been a worse end in my opinion. The same goes to other "opportunities".

And finally, from a story point of view, it just wouldn't work. For a tragic story, you need tragic events and a tragic flaw. Logical.

[Bêthberry]

Originally Posted by The Squatter of Amon Rûdh

I hadn't thought very deeply about it. The idea came to me as an afterthought at the end of my post. I think it's more likely that Tolkien identified a certain tendency in that direction in himself, although he was quick to deny it. This would explain his preoccupation with tollkühn, and his use of its anglicised form Rashbold in the Notion Club material at least twice (although it should always be noted that he was forever using translations of or punning references to his name in other languages). Certainly I detect an uncertainty at several points in his literary career over the rightness from a Catholic perspective of his continued sub-creation, which he may have sometimes seen as presumption. Such second-guessing tempts fate to say the least, so I preferred to leave the question open to suggestions. It seems unlikely to me, though, that Morwen embodies Tolkien's opinion of his own mother. If that were the case I would expect far more sympathetic a character, to judge by the references he makes to his parents in his published letters.

I would think that as well, about Morwen, although her pride and stubbornness is probably as strong as her son's and the story of multiple homes or residences and the dependence on others do have some echo in Tolkien's own life. Tolkien's actions "against willful pride, against action without counsel, against unilateral decisions"--as you wrote in the earlier post--strike me as being more significant, as it seems to me that so much of what he saw in his life came up against those very traits, in his personal life, in his professional life, and of course in the terrible historical events which he lived through in his life.

Originally Posted by Aiwnedil

To touch on another point that I don't think has been mentioned in this thread yet, one of the interesting things about the Turin saga (and there are lots of interesting things about it) is that it is a rare case where Tolkien, though somewhat grudgingly and disapprovingly, seems to have endorsed the game of 'source-hunting' - that is, of looking for literary or mythological antecedents to his stories and characters. In his letter to Milton Waldman he even names some sources himself:

It seems that the character whose story Tolkien spent the most time working on was also perhaps (in a sense) Tolkien's least original character. And yet, in a different sense, Turin is undeniably an original character, notwithstanding his explicit connection with those three sources. Here we have one of the best examples of Tolkien's ability to take myths and ancient stories and not simply to rework them or reinterpret them, but to use them as building blocks (and very solid building blocks they are) in the creation of something altogether new.

This passage from Tolkien's letter to Waldman is very interesting, particularly in light of what Tolkien has to say about sources in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
Here's some of his thoughts from the essay on the medieval story:

Originally Posted by Tolkien, "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight"

For it belongs to that literary kind which has deep roots in the past, deeper even than its author was aware. It is made of tales often told before and elsewhere, and of elements that derive from remote times, beyond the vision or awareness of the poet: like Beowulf, or some of Shakespeare's major plays, such as King Lear or Hamlet.

It is an interesting question: what is this flavour, this atmosphere, this virtue that such rooted works have, . . . . I am not concerned at this moment with research into the origins of the tale or its details, or into the question of precisely in what form these reached the author of this poem, before he set to work on it. I wish to speak of his handling of the matter . . . the movement of his mind, as he wrote and . . . rewrote the story, until it had the form that has come down to us. . . . His story is not about those old things, but it receives part of its life, its vividness, its tension from them. That is the way with the greater fairy-stories--of which this is one.

Given how closely some of his lines echo the Kalevala (particularly the lines where Turin addresses his sword), I would think that Tolkien in his letter might be attempting to minimise his debt or dismiss the significance of it. It would be ineresting to compare the dates of composition of the Gawain essay and the letter to Waldman.