Turin the Hopeless?

[Nerwen]

Originally Posted by davem

It certainly makes it easier for the reader - like with the little girl in the red coat in Schindler's list (etc...)

But that's not the question I asked, Davem.

Originally Posted by davem

Its also why a determination to see it as simply part of a greater tale where good wins out & everyone lives happily ever after is wrong

But I never said that; I don't think that is a fair characterisation of the "greater tale", anyway. I said it was part of that tale, and was intended as such by the author.

Originally Posted by tumhalad

And I was not, by the way, advocating that we should dismiss the rest of Tolkien's writings; I was agreeing with Davem that to only experience CoH through the prism of his other works not only cheapens the story as it is, but misunderstands its importance

If you'll review the thread, tumhalad, you'll see Davem's previously said rather a lot more than that– and I was actually referring back to some of these earlier claims as well.

Originally Posted by tumhalad

CoH is not set in this world at all; it is a world wherein hope itself is futile because there is no God; indeed, one is almost tempted to agree with Morgoth and say that there is "Nothing" beyond the void. indeed, one is almost tempted to agree with Morgoth and say that there is "Nothing" beyond the void. For all the characters in the story know, this is perfectly true. We think we know better because we have the Silmarillion, which says that Eru created the world, etc, but once again I'm not certain CoH should be read through that prism.

Which neatly settles the question of whether the author ever meant it to be a stand-alone work, doesn't it? Obviously, he didn't.

My personal view is that Turin's story, though it may stand up by itself, also works perfectly fine in the general Middle-earth context. I'm not arguing that it's invalid to prefer the stand-alone version, but to claim that that's somehow the "true" way to read it seems to me to rest on some pretty shaky arguments.

One's reaction does depend on temperament, of course: I admit freely I am basically an optimist, and so stories of total, absolute despair don't give me the sense of "Ah, yes! The truth!" that I suppose they do some people. Thus, for me, the story actually has more impact if taken as part of the greater Legendarium, because I'm not subconsciously rejecting it on some level. Does that make sense? This is not a weak preference for "happy endings", in case you think it is. It's about what feels truer to a particular person. Or, if you prefer the expression, it's about whether it "resonates" with me. Okay?

Finally, I don't see that the analogies people are giving to this story are the right ones. Turin isn't simply a passive, innocent victim of circumstance: he may have a malevolent power personally gunning for him, but nonetheless much of what befalls him can be also attributed to his own character flaws and lapses of judgement. (Unlike lmp, this does not remove my sympathy from the character– rather, I think it makes him more of a classic tragic hero.)

[Nerwen]

Now that I think about it, the question of which reading is "better" is probably not a resolvable one anyway, because clearly so much of the reader's opinion in the case depends on his or belief-system and overall world-view. So, we're going to have agree to disagree on that point.

What can be argued is whether the author intended it to be a stand-alone work, existing in a different world to the rest of the Legendarium. I just don't think he did.

[tumhalad2]

[QUOTE=Nerwen]


Which neatly settles the question of whether the author ever meant it to be a stand-alone work, doesn't it? Obviously, he didn't.

[QUOTE=Nerwen]

Obviously? I'm not entirely convinced about that. It is clear that he put most of his effort into finishing this story, as opposed to the other more hopeful ones, toward the end of his life. And he didn't write it happily, or with a sense of hope, as I said. Although he could have done so if he had felt so inclined.

As to the LOTR being a "happy ending" where everything is "happily ever after"; I don't think anyone, including Davem, is rejecting the sadness, the clear sense of loss, and the brokenness felt toward the end. Nonetheless, as I explained before, everything works out with reference to a kind of divine plan, or at least providentially. There is a big qualitative difference here, whether Tolkien intended it or not, and whether or not he intended us to read it as part of a larger trilogy. Point is, the story itself exhibits these characteristics. Now, I think there are better readings and worse readings, by no means are all "equal". In this case, to completely diss the novel's major thematic, emotive energy in favour of a kind of reading that at best seeks to mitigate or at worst ignore the utter defeat and nihilism of it is, I think, fatuous. Clearly we should read it as a "part" of a greater tale, but only to a degree; not insofar as, say, our interpretation of Beren and Luthien clouds our sense of sorrow in this story. It is clear that we are positioned not to feel hope of happiness. Just sorrow.

[davem]

Well, I haven't re-read this whole thread (As a dog returneth to its vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly - & there is no real going back: the thread may be the same, but I am not the same, ect, ect...) so I may or may not be repeating earlier points here...

I do think its possible to view CoH as a counterbalance to LotR/The Sil as a whole. Tolkien wrote it as it is - & unless we want to accuse him of 'lying', or at least of attempting to mislead, it is equally as 'true' in & of itself, as the more 'hopeful' works. LotR & CoH are both tales set in an invented world, but that's no reason to reduce one of them to being merely a 'part' of the other. They are both equal, but in a moral sense, opposites.

Many people do live desperate, pointless lives, devoid of hope & purpose - & see Tolkien's own comments on Simone de Beauvoir in this documentary http://www.bbc.co.uk/archive/writers/12237.shtml

“There is no such thing as a natural death. Nothing that happens to [a] man is ever natural, since his presence calls the whole world into question. All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident. And even if he knows it and consents to it, an unjustifiable violation.”

Well, you may agree with the words or not, but those are the keyspring of The Lord of the Rings.

"All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident. And even if he knows it and consents to it, an unjustifiable violation.”

I'd argue that they are not the keyspring to LotR (well, maybe a bit), but they are the keyspring to CoH - & they are definitely essential to an understanding of Tollkien's worldview.

Both LotR & CoH are true reflections of the vision of Tolkien, & ultimately true of the world we inhabit. I think to only read CoH in the light of LotR/The Sil is as wrong as to only read LotR/The Sil in the light of CoH. Just because the stories are set in the same world doesn't make one of them less true - or even dependent on each other. And it certainly doesn't mean we should see one of them as untrue if read alone.

[tumhalad2]

Originally Posted by davem

I do think its possible to view CoH as a counterbalance to LotR/The Sil as a whole. Tolkien wrote it as it is - & unless we want to accuse him of 'lying', or at least of attempting to mislead, it is equally as 'true' in & of itself, as the more 'hopeful' works. LotR & CoH are both tales set in an invented world, but that's no reason to reduce one of them to being merely a 'part' of the other. They are both equal, but in a moral sense, opposites.

In a moral sense, opposites. This is the crucial distinction between the two works, I think. As Andrew O'Hehir wrote in his review on Salon.com, "I came away from "The Children of Húrin" with a renewed appreciation for the fact that Tolkien's overarching narrative is much more ambiguous in tone than is generally noticed" However, O'Hehir grants that this change in tone is a result of Tolkien's "imperfect success" trying to "harmonize the swirling pagan cosmology behind his imaginative universe with a belief in Christian salvation". This begs the question, is Tolkien trying, in CoH, to "harmonize" these two worldviews, which are morally and eschatalogically at variance?

O'Hehir continues: "Salvation feels a long way off in "The Children of Húrin." What sits in the foreground is that persistent Tolkienian sense that good and evil are locked in an unresolved Manichaean struggle with amorphous boundaries, and that the world is a place of sadness and loss, whose human inhabitants are most often the agents of their own destruction." We've certainly identified here that "salvation feels a long way off". Yet it's interesting here that O'Hehir assigns the epithet 'persistent' to the idea that good and evil are "locked in an unresolvable...struggle" This seems to be quite at odds with the usual critical stance, which (half rightly) suggests that good will triumph over evil eventually. Usually, this is a kind of boxing bag for some critics, who perceive this as a kind of existential flaw in Tolkien's mythos. All the same, does CoH afford a sense of "unresolvability"? As I wrote in my last post, I'm drawn to the idea that CoH is in some ways not merely a backdown from but a moral repudiation of the doctrine of "eucatastrophe". When the story ends, Hurin knows that his wife "had died" in his arms. No more is said, and no more need be said.

[Puddleglum]

Originally Posted by tumhalad2

[I]
I'm drawn to the idea that CoH is in some ways ... a moral repudiation of the doctrine of "eucatastrophe". When the story ends, Hurin knows that his wife "had died" in his arms. No more is said, and no more need be said.

While CoH has (posthumously) been published as a separate book and can, to some extent, be enjoyed in its own right, I think its purpose and meaning can really only be interpreted or understood in the context of the world and mythos in which it is set.

Tolkien's concept of eucatastrophe relies on an appreciation of how bad and hopeless things are before the eucatastrophe occurs. Eucatastrophe refers to the sudden, joyous, turn which cannot be anticipated from what has gone before.

Thus, if good is gradually winning over evil and finally achieves victory, that is not a eucatastrophe. The war of wrath *was* a eucatastrophe because, while the elves and men might wish for divine intervention, they had no basis for expecting it based on anything that had gone before. The Valar had turned a deaf ear to all the destruction and killing of elves and, even, of Men (who had not been involved in rebellion).

Similarly, if there had been no death and destruction (if the Elvish kingdoms had simply managed to continue the siege of Angband indefinitely) the divine intervention and defeat of Morgoth would not be that special. Most Elves might just feel "we had things sorted just fine, thank you. We had our realms and here you come sinking our realms under water - destroying all we built. why didn't you just let us handle it."

In this context, the value of the eucatastrophe is proportional to the defeat and destruction and failure that preceded it. CoH (the Narn i hin Hurin) is one (the longest and most poignant) story of that evil - played out very personally in the lives of (in the mythos) real men and women with real egos, and loves, and strengths and faults.

The more we grieve at the evil of Morgoth (felt personally in CoH more than in any other tales of those days), the more we cheer or weep with joy at his eucatastrophic defeat.

[Nerwen]

Originally Posted by tumhalad

Obviously? I'm not entirely convinced about that. It is clear that he put most of his effort into finishing this story, as opposed to the other more hopeful ones, toward the end of his life. And he didn't write it happily, or with a sense of hope, as I said. Although he could have done so if he had felt so inclined.

Let me quote you again, tumhalad:

CoH is not set in this world at all; it is a world wherein hope itself is futile because there is no God; indeed, one is almost tempted to agree with Morgoth and say that there is "Nothing" beyond the void. For all the characters in the story know, this is perfectly true. We think we know better because we have the Silmarillion, which says that Eru created the world, etc, but once again I'm not certain CoH should be read through that prism.

1. Tolkien was a deeply religious man. While I certainly don't think his work is just a Christian allegory, I would highly doubt he'd write something overtly athiest as a stand-alone work.

2. We "think" we know better? Um... it does rather appear to be set in the same world as the rest, doesn't it? You know, names, places, and all that? If you think Tolkien meant it to be set in a separate world, one with a different background as regards history, the nature of the supernatural, etc. then I rather think the burden of proof is on you.

Once again, I'm not saying the book can't be read, or doesn't work, on its own. What you're saying here actually goes considerably beyond that:

Originally Posted by tumhalad

Now, I think there are better readings and worse readings, by no means are all "equal". In this case, to completely diss the novel's major thematic, emotive energy in favour of a kind of reading that at best seeks to mitigate or at worst ignore the utter defeat and nihilism of it is, I think, fatuous.

"Fatuous". I see. You know, I could find some equally colourful ways to describe what I consider to be your leaps of logic (see above)– but heck, that's not how I play, my friend

Originally Posted by davem

Many people do live desperate, pointless lives, devoid of hope & purpose

And many people– almost all people, in my personal experience– don't. I don't. Thus, a world without hope altogether does not and cannot convince me.

Originally Posted by davem

Just because the stories are set in the same world doesn't make one of them less true - or even dependent on each other. And it certainly doesn't mean we should see one of them as untrue if read alone.

But davem, that's not what I said. I say that I find the story of the Children of Hurin more satisfying if read as part of the greater story. This is partly because of the general richness of the background, the sense of past and future history, and partly because for me a tale of total despair, presented as the last word on life, the universe and everything, does ring essentially false. (Once again, this is my temperament and my experience of life, neither of which we get to choose, I think.) For me, both these considerations make the "in context" version more real, and thus more emotionally affecting. I also think that the story is in its turn an integral part of the greater work, which would be diminished without it. Again, just my reaction.

Now, look, guys, I don't have a problem with anyone who prefers to read it as a stand-alone work. What I am disputing is that a.) this is an inherently "better" reading, b.) that it's what the author intended, c.) that reading it in the context of the Legendarium necessarily "cheapens" or "disses" it, and d.) that wishing so to read it is a sign of weakness or moral failing (or– in tumhalad's words, is "fatuous"). I don't know if you all intended this last, but that's kind of how it's coming across.

Can't you see this is a matter of personal taste, and nothing more?

[Nerwen]

Also, since having an overall happy(ish) ending does not erase individual suffering– what's the problem? I quite agree, for instance, that Turin & Co. had no way of knowing Morgoth would be eventually defeated. Therefore I don't see why reading the whole thing– or reading CoH with the rest in mind– somehow "invalidates" Turin's anguish.

My guess– though this may be way out, and possibly offensive, for which I apologise in advance– is that the answer perhaps lies in what some of you imagine is taking place in the minds of people reading it the "wrong" way. I mean all this talk of "shoving it into the world of LOTR to 'make it fit in'", of people having a "determination to see it as simply part of a greater tale where good wins out & everyone lives happily ever" of the in-context reading being "easier on the reader". It is my belief that in saying this you're attributing "bad" (as you see it) motives to other people which aren't necessarily there.

Once again, you are all free to read any book any way you like. If you don't like one of the author's concepts, why, then, reject it. One is not obliged to take a writer's whole philosophy onboard, anyway. I never do.

[Vultur]

I agree that the omission of any mention of Turin's return from Mandos (whether to slay Ancalagon at the War of Wrath or to slay Morgoth at the Dagor Dagorath) changes the feel of the story dramatically.

I'm not sure what other choice CT had, though, as Tolkien never settled on a final version of that bit. I think it was a matter of the original Turin story being incompatible with the universe of Arda as it developed, with Turin and Nienor becoming Valar, as the Doom of Men became a central element of the legendarium (as it wasn't in the Book of Lost Tales era, where 'Turin and Nienor become Valar and Turin kills Morgoth' came from) -- but Tolkien wasn't willing to discard the conception of his return in some form at least.

In a way, Tolkien thoroughly changed his views of the role of Men in relation to Elves in the final fate of Arda. In the early texts it's said that the fate of Men after the end of the world is not spoken of in the prophecies of Mandos "save of Turin only, and him it names among the Gods"; but later that is changed to it being said that Men will participate in the Second Music of the Ainur, and the fate of Elves is not spoken of. And then there is some discussion in Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth about Men healing Arda in the end.

Essentially, the role Turin was meant to play (as representative of Men in the end of Arda's evils) became both irrelevant and impossible with later developments in the legendarium. So I'm not sure there was really any better solution than to leave the matter entirely out of Children of Hurin -- though it does seem crucial to his story.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Gotta say I've never understood the point of view which holds that LOTR ends on a "hopeful note"...the Elves have departed Middle-earth and taken with them all that remains of the light of the Eldar, the power of the Rings to preserve and inspire is gone, the Dwarves are still dwindling, Gondor is restored but explicitly only for a time and as a lesser reminder of past glories, the Hobbits have retreated even further into their realm and into their hopless parochialism unable to appreciate even the heroes in their very midst, the Ents have no Entings...in short, the Age of Man has begun, which is our own age. Having fallen so fully for the enchantment of Middle-earth (which you would have had to have done to reach the end of LOTR at all) that is the most depressing part: that world is gone, replaced by our own, and in particular by the 20th century.

Sure individual characters have happy endings, but on the whole things look really bleak. Sauron is gone, but we know from history and precedence that something will be back to replace him, as he replaced Morgoth. And sure, it won't be as 'bad' but neither is there anything as 'good' left to confront him: Aragorn is the last of his kind; Arwen is the last of her kind; Frodo has left Middle-earth; Sam can no longer go adventuring; Merry and Pippin are old soldiers reliving their past glories for an increasingly amused progeny.

Sorry if I'm a bit of a downer. (Get it: Downer? )

[Morthoron]

Originally Posted by tumhalad2

What Usually, this is a kind of boxing bag for some critics, who perceive this as a kind of existential flaw in Tolkien's mythos. All the same, does CoH afford a sense of "unresolvability"? As I wrote in my last post, I'm drawn to the idea that CoH is in some ways not merely a backdown from but a moral repudiation of the doctrine of "eucatastrophe". When the story ends, Hurin knows that his wife "had died" in his arms. No more is said, and no more need be said.

How is the plight of the House of Hurin any different than the House of Feanor? The dire consequences of Feanor's oath lasts into a third generation (if you consider Celebrimbor to be the grandson of Feanor). Maedhros commits suicide, Maglor ruefully roams the shores of the Belegaer for eternity, and the rest of Feanor's sons die in battle as traitors and kinslayers (including infanticide). Maedhros and Maglor's sorry ends happen concurrently with a eucatastrophic event: the coming of Eonwe and the armies of Valinor and the final defeat of Morgoth. The House of Feanor's doom is no less dismaying than that of Hurin or Turin. The only difference is that CoH is a bit more developed, and follows the formula of a Greek tragedy more consistenly than in the case of the House of Feanor, although there is certainly hamartia in the making of an unbreakable vow, and anagnorisis, the sudden awareness of the tragic hero's folly, in the final actions of Maedhros and Maglor.

Contextually speaking, the fall of the House of Hurin is completely compatible with the long defeat of the Elves. Just as Hurin is forced by Morgoth to watch the hideous doom against his family unfold, so too did Morgoth chain Maedhros by the wrist atop Thangorodrim for many years. The Valar, the angelic intermediaries of Eru (whose hands-off attitude towards his creation is completely at variance with the Judeo-Christian god of the bible), simply do not interact with Middle-earth save for extraordinary circumstances. The Valar's seeming indifference causes untold suffering for nearly an entire age of Middle-earth, and Hurin's family, just like countless other families, are left to the diabolical whims of Morgoth, including captives the Dark Lord released to cause further pain to both those he had freed as well as the relations they returned to.

Therefore, to say that CoH is incongruous or better as a stand-alone tale separate from the rest of the history of the 1st Age is spurious. Hurin valiantly cries out, "Day shall come again!" seventy times as he hewed down trolls. Unfortunately, the day that dawned came too late for Hurin and his family, but that does not mean that he was not prescient in what he said. Very few prophets live to see the outcome of their revelations.

[tumhalad2]

Originally Posted by Morthoron

How is the plight of the House of Hurin any different than the House of Feanor? The dire consequences of Feanor's oath lasts into a third generation (if you consider Celebrimbor to be the grandson of Feanor). Maedhros commits suicide, Maglor ruefully roams the shores of the Belegaer for eternity, and the rest of Feanor's sons die in battle as traitors and kinslayers (including infanticide). Maedhros and Maglor's sorry ends happen concurrently with a eucatastrophic event: the coming of Eonwe and the armies of Valinor and the final defeat of Morgoth. The House of Feanor's doom is no less dismaying than that of Hurin or Turin. The only difference is that CoH is a bit more developed, and follows the formula of a Greek tragedy more consistenly than in the case of the House of Feanor, although there is certainly hamartia in the making of an unbreakable vow, and anagnorisis, the sudden awareness of the tragic hero's folly, in the final actions of Maedhros and Maglor.

Contextually speaking, the fall of the House of Hurin is completely compatible with the long defeat of the Elves...The Valar, the angelic intermediaries of Eru (whose hands-off attitude towards his creation is completely at variance with the Judeo-Christian god of the bible), simply do not interact with Middle-earth save for extraordinary circumstances. The Valar's seeming indifference causes untold suffering for nearly an entire age of Middle-earth, and Hurin's family, just like countless other families, are left to the diabolical whims of Morgoth, including captives the Dark Lord released to cause further pain to both those he had freed as well as the relations they returned to.

Therefore, to say that CoH is incongruous or better as a stand-alone tale separate from the rest of the history of the 1st Age is spurious.

I pretty much agree with all of this, but I would reiterate a difference between the LOTR and CoH again: while it is certainly true, and clear, that neither Eru or the Valar intervene much in Middle-earth, the narrative of the Lord of the Rings is nonetheless resplendant with a sense of providential purpose. This is something that is not only lacking in the Children of Hurin, but the possibility of it is mocked by Turin, and the conversation between Hurin and Morgoth ends ambiguously. The wider Silmarillion too is repleat with much suffering, of course, but the Valar are nonetheless shown to be active participants in thought or deed. In the novel, the Children of Hurin, they are distant, amourphous and almost entirely unkown entities, especially to humans. For example, when Turin asks Sador where his deceased sister ends up, he has no answer. Now, we know that the Valar don't either, but the point is that neither Sador nor anyone else has any authority to turn to. In the Lord of the Rings, by contrast, characters appear to have faith. Turin has no faith. Sador has no faith, precisely because there is nothing to have faith in, except the drive to defend one's family and House. This is, after all, Turin's motivation throughout the novel. There is a diabolical force to the north, with which his people are at war; Turin perceives it as his duty to defend his family and the free realms against it. Unlike Frodo, he is not on a divine quest, and unlike Feanor, he has not held personal recourse with the Valar. As Morgoth asks Hurin: "Have you seen the Valar? Or measured the power of Manwe and Varda?" to which Hurin replies "I know not." He guesses, perhaps, that should they will it they could protect him and his family, and he asserts the primacy of Manwe, but Morgoth scoffs at this, and names himself the Elder King.

For all Hurin knows, and for all we should care, Morgoth is telling the truth. Manwe doesn't deign to intervene until the very end of the war, when the Noldor are utterly defeated and Hurin and his family have all died. Yes, the War of Wrath constitues a eucastraphe, an underserved episode of grace. But still, I'm uncomfortable with the notion that we should be complicit in it. As Nerwen pointed out, it is completely acceptable to see the suffering of Turin's family in the context of a final victory against Morgoth without diminishing it. However, I think where I'm getting at is that CoH, in its novelistic form, seems to undermine this construction; it seems to make eucatastrophe gratuitous. Now, I'm not saying we should take this interpretation because our own lives are bleak and nasty; I don't have such a life either, but I am saying that to my eyes the text itself seems to lend weight to such an interpretation. Now, we then have the issue of interpreting it along side its peritexts, the Silmarillion and the Lord of the Rings.

Should we then, treat Middle-earth as a kind of ontologically consistent history? Or should the novels absolutely stand on their own? Well, I think a balance is required. Certainly, CoH is set in the same world, as Nerwen points out, in so far as names, places and people are familiar. But it is this qualitative difference, this much terser, less aesthetic use of langauge that characterises CoH that worries me. It is entirely unlike either the LOTR or the Sil. It brings to bear its own style, and thereby its own unique tone and atmosphere. How is this to be understood?

[Morthoron]

Originally Posted by tumhalad2

I pretty much agree with all of this, but I would reiterate a difference between the LOTR and CoH again: while it is certainly true, and clear, that neither Eru or the Valar intervene much in Middle-earth, the narrative of the Lord of the Rings is nonetheless resplendant with a sense of providential purpose. This is something that is not only lacking in the Children of Hurin, but the possibility of it is mocked by Turin, and the conversation between Hurin and Morgoth ends ambiguously. The wider Silmarillion too is repleat with much suffering, of course, but the Valar are nonetheless shown to be active participants in thought or deed. In the novel, the Children of Hurin, they are distant, amourphous and almost entirely unkown entities, especially to humans...

... However, I think where I'm getting at is that CoH, in its novelistic form, seems to undermine this construction; it seems to make eucatastrophe gratuitous. Now, I'm not saying we should take this interpretation because our own lives are bleak and nasty; I don't have such a life either, but I am saying that to my eyes the text itself seems to lend weight to such an interpretation. Now, we then have the issue of interpreting it along side its peritexts, the Silmarillion and the Lord of the Rings.

Should we then, treat Middle-earth as a kind of ontologically consistent history? Or should the novels absolutely stand on their own? Well, I think a balance is required. Certainly, CoH is set in the same world, as Nerwen points out, in so far as names, places and people are familiar. But it is this qualitative difference, this much terser, less aesthetic use of langauge that characterises CoH that worries me. It is entirely unlike either the LOTR or the Sil. It brings to bear its own style, and thereby its own unique tone and atmosphere. How is this to be understood?

I agree with many of your points, T2. CoH is very bleak, without redemption and lacking in providence. However, taken in context with the overarching storyline -- and this is why I have emphasized the necessity of CoH remaining within the overall tale -- isn't the story of Hurin/Turin the antithesis of their kinsmen Hour/Tuor? Particularly in the case of the cousins Turin and Tuor. Tuor implicitly follows the directives of the Valar (even though his message to the prideful Turgon is ignored, to the utter ruin of Gondolin), while through Turin's arrogance, Nargothrond is destroyed. Bitterness, pride and folly follow Turin through the choices he makes, and his line ends abruptly; whereas Tour accepts his mission and through him the great line of Middle-earth heroes spring. We see the positive and negative effects of human nature and faith within the divergent plots.

[Formendacil]

One thing that has occurred to me in reading through the recent discourse here, is to what extent it is fair to say that Tolkien always considered CoH as a part of the "The Silmarillion" and not as an independent story. Obviously, I think, you cannot divorce it from the wider Legendarium (and I would consider anyone who attempted such an endeavour to be a fool). At the same time, however, "The Silmarillion", as it stands, is not really a single tale, but a compendium of related tales. It is somewhat like the Bible, in that respect, the Bible being a collection of books (a library) rather than a single book.

It's more complicated than just saying "The Silmarillion" is just a library of tales, however. Like the Bible, there is a single story throughout, and unlike the Bible, it is the work of a single human editor, who was specifically interested in following a specific story. It is worth noting that I am not speaking of "The Silmarillion" here as the 1977 volume published posthumously, and including "The Ainulindalë," "The Valaquenta," etc. Rather, I mean the "Quenta Silmarillion," considered as a single narrative tale. "The Silmarillion," then, considered as a single narrative, is really the story of the Silmarils, the story of the Noldor, the story of the House of Fëanor, and the story of Morgoth. It intersects with the stories of the House of Húrin, of Gondolin/Eärendil, of Beren and Lúthien, and so forth... but these other stories are, for "The Silmarillion" really only chapters, and not fully considered tales in their own right.

From the point of view of "The Silmarillion," the real chief characters of "The Lay of Leithian" are Celegorm, Curufin, and Morgoth--they are the continuing characters of the previous chapters, who are now jointly spited by the interloping lovers. From the perspective of "The Silmarillion," Beren and Lúthien only start becoming really important AFTER they have the Silmaril--in other words, when they become entangled in the Doom of the Noldor, and avenge Thingol's killers, and thus set up Doriath for both the creation of the Nauglamír and the revenge of the Sons of Fëanor--and the deaths of Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin.

What about the love story, however, of the Man and the Elf, and the doomed romance of death and inevitably sundered destinies and the eucatastrophe of Mandos bending Lúthien's doom? This barely plays from the perspective of the main narrative in "The Silmarillion," because it is not the point there.

I think this difference of focus is even stronger with CoH, because CoH features even fewer of the main players of "The Silmarillion" story, and is an even more insignificant chapter in that narrative. The Nirnaeth, which is the biggest "Silmarillion" event in CoH is given a separate chapter and treatment in "The Silmarillion," and within the context of the wider work, is not really seen as a part of the story of Húrin so much as of Maedhros.

And after that? Well... Nargothrond falls, and Morgoth eventually loses his new prototype weapon, after having proved its effectiveness--and Glaurung will soon be replaced by Ancalagon and the winged dragons anyway, so perhaps it's best that he was put out of his misery by Túrin. It's only once Túrin is dead, and Húrin can then be released, that Morgoth starts getting what he's looking for: the approximate location of Gondolin, the other shoe falling for Thingol having taken the Silmaril.

My point is not that CoH--or "The Lay of Leithian," or the Gondolin/Eärendil saga, for that matter--is insignificant in and of itself, nor that "The Silmarillion" can go on without it. No story can go on as if some of its chapters, in which the plot is advanced, were not written. My point, however, is that the emphasis on what is more broadly "important" changes depending on whether one is following the story of the Silmarils in the chapter on Túrin, or whether one is following the tragic tale of the Children of Húrin from beginning to end. In the former, it is crucially important that Nargothrond fall and Húrin be broken to Morgoth's will. In the latter, the emphasis is on Túrin and Nienor, and their own, personal tragedy. Morwen is of very little consequence to "The Silmarillion" narrative--she is too far from the main events to really matter as the source of crucial action--but in CoH, she is at its very heart, and it could not be understood without her.

I have one last point before I end, and since my copies of the HoME are boxed away somewhere in my van, I cannot offer any proof of what I am about to say, so bear with the possible misremembering. However...

As far as my memory goes, the Fall of Gondolin, the Lay of Leithian, and Turin and the Dragon are the oldest components in the Book of Lost Tales, the first "Silmarillion." "The Book of Lost Tales," by itself, is a more compartmentalised account than the "Quenta Silmarillion," and the focus is much more on the individual tales than one the broader arc. What is more, we really only have these three tales in their later Lost Tales form, and not in the very germ of story-thought in which they were conceived. Knowing the source of "Beren and Tinúviel" in Tolkien's own marriage, and more strongly of "Turin and Glómund" in the Finnish Kallevala, it seems to me entirely possible that these three tales were NOT, in origin, conceived as part of a cohesive whole--possibly part of a related mythology, but that is several steps from the united tale of "The Silmarillion."

I think, if I am right here, that this original conception of these tales as independent, and less as part of the cycle, gives them a tenser relationship with the rest of "The Silmarillion" than, say, "The Account of the Sun and Moon." Tolkien continued to work on larger, "independent" accounts of these tales from the 1920s through the 1950s, the same period that saw the formation of "The Silmarillion" largely as we know it. This gives us the abortive tale "Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin," the text of CoH as we have it, and poetic accounts of both Túrin and Leithian.

In short--if I can be short--there is a back-and-forth between inclusion in "The Silmarillion" and their own stand-alone qualities, which goes back through their whole history of creation, and is, I think, quite deliberate on Tolkien's part. From this, I hardly think it is legitimate to either separate the tales totally from this context, or to attempt to examine them exclusively within this context. Depending on the situation, and the need or the desire, either or both approach is valid.