Cursing In the Books

[Inziladun]

Originally Posted by skip spence

But doesn't Mandos know all that is to come? Unless that is a line is a my mind made up. But I don't think Mandos is the decision-making type, nor one to offer his opinion. He reluctantly issues dooms yes and he's never wrong, but I think that is because he knows what's going to happen and not because he makes it happen.

I think he knows everything except what is outside the Music, ie: what is still under Ilúvatar's freedom to alter.

[skip spence]

Originally Posted by Inziladun

I think he knows everything except what is outside the Music, ie: what is still under Ilúvatar's freedom to alter.

Think so too. And isn't that a good argument that Mandos is not one to deny or enable individual curses. It is not within his jurisdiction or power to do so. Mandos too is bound by the Music.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

In other words:

Originally Posted by Valaquenta

He forgets nothing; and he knows all things that shall be, save only those that lie still in the freedom of Ilúvatar. He is the Doomsman of the Valar; but he pronounces his dooms and his Judgements only at the bidding of Manwë.

Obviously I think we can apply this also to the curses. I think there is no need to add anything, the last sentence is perfectly clear.

[Formendacil]

Originally Posted by Legate of Amon Lanc

Obviously I think we can apply this also to the curses. I think there is no need to add anything, the last sentence is perfectly clear.

Not to this passage from The Valaquenta anyway--I would modify Nazgûl-King's statement, however, to remove any reference to Mandos consulting Ilúvatar. Communication with Eru from within Arda seems to normatively, if not exclusively, be the prerogative of the Elder King.

However, insofar as this nuance is sort of contained in the quoted statement from The Valaquenta, it's more of an emphasis than a disagreement on my part.

[Galadriel55]

In my opinion, the curses that come true are the ones that are fair and have meaning behind them. Sometimes people in ME cursed without really meaning what they say, or at least in the full extend of what they say. For example, when Mablung found Turin near Haudh-en-Elleth, Turin said something along the lines of "A curse on your errand! And a curse on Menegroth! May winter wither it!" No matter how touchy Turin was on the subject of Doriath, I don't think he really meant that much harm by his words.
Other curses are more "well-reasoned", and the person who said the curse knows that he really wants it to come true.
As for who decides which curse will come true, maybe none do, but "real" curses come true by themselves. I've noticed that many people, especially those of noble descent, tend to have some inner power in them. Maybe their curses are more likely to come true? And even a common person can have such power, it's just that descent helps . When Morgoth cursed Hurin, he said that the shadow of his will will follow his faily wherever they go - so maybe he's not the only one able to do things with his will?...

[Alcuin]

There certainly seems to be some cause-and-effect associated with Middle-earth curses. (cf Legate...) And there also seems to be a matter of Judgment involved – capitalized, because it appears to be of a divine nature. Thorin’s curse upon Bilbo as an affective statement rather than an effective statement seems to me to be a significant difference, however, and I’d like to deal with it immediately.

Thorin’s diatribe against Bilbo was exactly that: a diatribe. It was no different from Grishnákh’s slobbering an ineffective litany of slurs against Saruman, or the pronouncements of certain television personalities against those whom they happen to disagree (like Grishnákh, a symptom of fallen civilization) or two men preparing to engage in an drunken impromptu fistfight.

There is a distinction between “cussing” – the use of foul (Grishnákh) or profane (Thorin) language for affect – and malediction – the pronouncement of a curse, which by definition is intended to have effect, whether it does or not.

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This brings us to the proper subject of the thread, I think: maledictions. These come in several varieties.

Legate has mentioned a “curse law”. There is in fact such a “law,” set forth in Proverbs 26:2,

As the bird by wandering, as the swallow by flying, so the curse causeless shall not come.

Tied to this is the idea that such maledictions are the province of the One, exemplified by Balaam’s response to Balak in Numbers 23:8,

How can I curse whom God has not cursed? How denounce whom the LORD has not denounced?

This, I believe, is what strips Saruman’s threatened curse against the Hobbits at Bag End of its effect: they were not cursed because they were in fact blessed. It was Saruman who was under the curse, who “perished at last by the hand of an oppressed slave”. (Unfinished Tales, “The Istari”)

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The Dead Men of Dunharrow, the Oathbreakers, had sworn their oath to aid Isildur upon the Stone of Erech brought from Númenor. Several things are brought to mind here, and I would like to enumerate them.

• The stone came from Númenor; but why would Isildur bother to haul such a large, bulky and heavy item to Middle-earth in a desperate bid to escape murder by Ar-Pharazôn? I strongly suspect the stone came originally from Valinor: that would make it worth the effort.
• The oaths that Cirion and Eorl took (Unfinished Tales) called Eru to witness. Such an oath could not be broken. (Cf. the debate between Maedhros and Maglor in Silmarillion about the two Silmarilli in Eönwë’s keeping.) If the Men of Dunharrow called Eru to witness, but then betrayed the Faithful Dúnedain to serve the Dark Lord, surely that would leave them open to the requirement that they fulfill their oath.
• The curse laid upon them by Isildur was none other than this: they could not depart Middle-earth until their oath was fulfilled. This was not some terrible, horrible, bone-rattling curse: it was the fulfillment of a solemn and sacred agreement to do what was good and right into which they had freely entered but then reneged.
• Besides, without them, Aragorn could not have turned back the Corsairs raiding Lebennin.

In permitting this outcome, Eru could accomplish many goals:

• reminding everyone of the seriousness of a sacred oath (both the Dúnedain and the Rohirrim regarded their kept word a solemn duty);
• punished the Oathbreakers for adhering to Sauron;
• provided Aragorn an army at direst need;
• set Aragorn apart as the unquestioned Heir of Isildur and hence a proper King of Gondor (Isildur entered into his oath with the Men of Dunharrow as King of Gondor); and
• provided for the eventual redemption of the Men of Dunharrow despite their rebellion.

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Next consider the curse of Morgoth upon the Children of Húrin. This is pure evil, and as has been mentioned, has the character of an evil spell. Morgoth’s purposes in this were several:

• Húrin defied and mocked him in the presence of others. It was important that Morgoth make a public example of him to ensure that all others feared him: in this sense, Morgoth acted like any gangster or tyrant.
• Morgoth’s injured pride demanded Hurin’s punishment, and the primal sin of pride was Morgoth’s in Tolkien’s world.
• Upon his release, Húrin in his bitterness unleashed the tension that led to the ruin of the Second House of the Edain.
• Also out of bitterness, Húrin brought the Nauglamír to Menegroth, setting in place the items used to bring about the Ruin of Doriath.

To carry through, however, Morgoth’s curse required considerable effort.

• Pestilence out of Angband took Lalaith, Turin’s first sister.
• The malice of Saeros drove Turin from Doriath because of Turin’s unfounded fear of injustice before Thingol.
• Whether the malice in Anglachel had a part in the death of Beleg is unclear, but I think it did: a darkness from Eöl in the darkness of Middle-earth outside the Girdle of Melian.
• It took Glaurung, whose development required considerable effort on Morgoth’s part, to effect the disaffection of Turin and Finduilas and replace it with the incestuous relation with Niënor Níniel.
• All this time, Morgoth’s incessant evil will beat down upon Turin and Niënor from afar until in despair both of them committed suicide.

At no time was Morgoth’s curse anything less than action on his part against Húrin’s children, whether directly or indirectly by Morgoth or his monstrous minions. It seems a straightforward issue: Morgoth actively and consistently used his considerable powers to bring about the misery and woe that Húrin’s family suffered.

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Let us consider for a moment the Oath of Fëanor, in which Fëanor and his sons called Everlasting Dark upon themselves if they should fail to wrest a Silmaril from any who withheld it. This they spoke in the name of Ilúvatar, and called Manwë and Varda as witnesses. That after this and the deeds that came of it any of them were just held in Mandos until the end of Arda rather than be consigned to the Outer Darkness was mercy: they summoned their curse upon themselves, naming their Creator and the regency of Arda as witnesses. Again, this seems a straightforward issue: why speak such a blasphemous oath or call upon oneself such a dreadful doom?

Tied directly to this is the Curse of Mandos. Also called the Doom of Mandos or Prophecy of Mandos (or Prophecy of the North), the words of the Doom prophesy the outcome of the treachery in which Fëanor began: the Kinslaying of Alqualondë.

Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains. On the House of Fëanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever.

Ye have spilled the blood of your kindred unrighteously and have stained the land of Aman. For blood ye shall render blood, and beyond Aman ye shall dwell in Death's shadow. For though Eru appointed to you to die not in Eä, and no sickness may assail you, yet slain ye may be, and slain ye shall be: by weapon and by torment and by grief; and your houseless spirits shall come then to Mandos. There long shall ye abide and yearn for your bodies, and find little pity though all whom ye have slain should entreat for you. And those that endure in Middle-earth and come not to Mandos shall grow weary of the world as with a great burden, and shall wane, and become as shadows of regret before the younger race that cometh after. The Valar have spoken.

That is a proper malediction:

• In its origins, Fëanor and his sons brought their curse upon themselves through their own rash words full of hate and malice;
• Inevitable because its fulfillment was the logical outcome of their iniquities; and
• Of proper authority, because Mandos was speaking as a Vala and so as one of the rulers of Arda.

What followed were the unavoidable consequences of the sins of Fëanor and his sons, whom no one trusted ever after, and who were cut off from mercy until they repented, which they never did.

Even Celebrimbor might be seen as caught up in the residual of the Curse of Mandos in the Second Age: Sauron dispossessed him of his Rings and his kingdom.

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In the case of Mîm, Turin acted with mercy and pity toward Mîm, and Mîm released him from responsibility. I do not recall that Andróg ever showed any pity or remorse for killing Khîm. Turin however was already under an active curse from Morgoth, and it may be that Mîm unwittingly tapped into the power of Morgoth’s malice when he spoke against Andróg. This seems to me a more complicated malediction: I am not certain we can untangle any just vengeance on the part of Mîm upon Andróg from unjust malice on the part of Morgoth against Turin and all his compatriots. I do not believe Mîm the Petty-dwarf had native power or authority to pronounce an effective curse upon another being.

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In this same vein as Mîm is a strain that has so far been neglected in this thread: Frodo used the One Ring to bind Gollum. The Ring gave power to its user in proportion to his stature: Frodo used its power, something often overlooked. First he invokes the Ring-spell itself, harnessing the very Power that made it and inhabited it (TT, “Taming of Sméagol”):

“…On the Precious? How dare you? Think!

“One Ring to rule them all and in the Darkness bind them.

“Would you commit your promise to that, Sméagol? It will hold you. But it is more treacherous than you are. It may twist your words. Beware!”
...
“We promises, yes I promise!” said Gollum. “I will serve the master of the Precious…”

It is worth noting that just before Frodo spoke this invocation, he spoke to someone else, someone Sam (from whose point of view this part of the story is told) could not see. He first invoked not Sauron’s power, but someone else’s, whether Gandalf’s, the Valar, or Eru himself:

“Very well,” he answered aloud, lowering his sword. “But still I am afraid. And yet, as you see, I will not touch the creature. For now that I see him, I do pity him.”

Sam stared at his master, who seemed to be speaking to some one who was not there. Gollum lifted his head.

Later Frodo again invokes the Ring, using Gollum’s broken promise to bring upon Gollum his own end (RotK, “Mount Doom”):

Begone, and trouble me no more! If you touch me ever again, you shall be cast yourself into the Fire of Doom.

That, I think, is very like the Doom of Mandos: at once a prophecy and a curse. As in the case of Mîm, it was not in Frodo’s native power or authority to pronounce a malediction upon Gollum. Unlike Mîm, Frodo has not called down an active curse upon Gollum: he has left Gollum an out: Gollum can repent and refrain, and so avoid his doom, but does not.

As for whether the speaker in this last case was Frodo or the Ring, the Ring was seeking to return to Sauron. Gollum would use it and be quickly discovered; Frodo carried the thing all the way inside the Sammath Naur before he succumbed. And there the malice of the Ring and its maker was turned upon itself, fulfilling the curse (or prophecy) Frodo spoke.