An Overview of The Silmarillion: Part One

Proof of purchase.

The Silmarillion is J.R.R. Tolkien’s masterwork.  Begun while Tolkien was serving in the trenches of World War One, long before he wrote The Hobbit, the author strove to see it published later along with The Lord of the Rings.  This endeavor ended in failure and it was up to his son, Christopher, to finally put the work into presentable form after Tolkien’s death.

Being an enthusiastic fan of the trilogy, I bought a first edition hardbound copy of The Silmarillion at the University of Georgia book store when it was initially published in 1977.  It is not like Tolkien’s more popular works.  It features very little dialog nor does it possess much character development.  It is more like an extended synopsis of a truly epic tale that would encompass dozens of volumes if it were fully fleshed-out like Tolkien’s story of the One Ring.

It reads like the Old Testament, which is to say it is not as accessible as his other works.  One does not simply read The Silmarillion.  One studies the fantastic saga.  It makes great demands upon the reader, more so today than when it was first published, given how literature and the world have changed since then.  Given how attention spans have shriveled.  Over his lifetime, Tolkien wrote and rewrote and rewrote again most every part of it, completing some aspects more than others, which presented Christopher with quite a challenge to choose from the various versions, edit them, and stitch them together in a consistent and understandable form.  (These drafts can be found in The History of Middle-earth series, Unfinished Tales and other books I have reviewed previously.)

Nevertheless, the work is magnificent.  The lover of Middle-earth is greatly rewarded in their effort to study it.  The book contains history of the uncounted ages before the creation of Middle-earth and of the subsequent three great Ages of time that transpired up to The Lord of the Rings, which heralds the end of the Third Age and the beginning of the Fourth, the Age of Men.  The work is filled with so many incredible characters, places, battles and events that it is impossible to cover them all in a brief overview.

Here I will begin a series of posts as I completely re-read The Silmarillion for the first time in many years.  Parts of it I have read often throughout my life but only now, in this time of the great pandemic, am I making the full journey again – from the creation of Arda to the passing of the Three Rings of Power into the West.

I am reading the second edition of the work, which I bought in paperback almost two decades ago.  Christopher corrected a few errors in the text and updated the index, which is all quite helpful.  This is the copy I have marked-up through the years.  My original first edition is unblemished of any notation, save for the weathering of the book jacket and the pages with the passage of time.

Tolkien wrote all of this with the support of many languages he invented for Middle-earth, particularly Elvish languages, which are favored in The Silmarillion and all his works.  Most of the book’s sections are demarcated in the high-Elvish language known as Quenya.  It begins with Ainulindalë: The Music of the Ainur which tells of the creation of Middle-earth out of the void – through, of all things, music.  This post will mostly concern itself with how Tolkien used music and light as central themes for the telling the tale.

I will not mention every single god-like and/or archangel-like power introduced by Tolkien.  I will stick to the essentials though some names are, of course, essential.  It all starts with Ilúvatar who made “the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought…” He gave them themes of music, which they sang alone or in small groups.  By listening to one another, the Ainur began to comprehend more fully and harmony emerged.

At the presence of harmony, Ilúvatar declared a mighty new theme which struck the Ainur with awe.  At first they were silent, but then he commanded them (if they so willed it) to make a Great Music which was perfect and harmonious.  Melkor, the most powerful of the Ainur, soon introduced his own theme which was not in accord with Ilúvatar’s.  Melkor had spent more time alone in the void than any of the others and felt that Ilúvatar neglected the void.  Melkor desired that beings should be brought forth from the void.  This interjected discord within the music and some of the Ainur harmonized with Melkor’s theme.

Ilúvatar introduced a new theme but, once again, Melkor wrought discord. A third theme was introduced, which competed with Melkor’s theme.  The third was filled with depth and breadth, sorrow and beauty.  Melkor’s was loud and vain and repetitive.  But the third theme took the loudest parts of Melkor’s theme and wove them into its own.

Then Ilúvatar ended the music and commanded that things be brought forth based upon all these themes.  For the first time the Ainur had sight whereas before they could only hear.  And they saw much (but not all) that was to come out of the themes.  The first theme was made by the Ainur in their freedom but the third theme was Ilúvatar’s alone and contained the Children of Ilúvatar (Elves and Men), which the Ainur could not comprehend.

In the next section, Valaquenta, some of the Ainur choose to enter the creation realized through the music.  They become the Valar.  Other spirits, the Maiar, who were powerful but innocent, joined them in the fashioning the fabric of Middle-earth, everything except the Children of Ilúvatar.  Melkor, which means “he who rises in might,” became their enemy, seeking to mare every aspect of creation.  Many Maiar were drawn to him by his great gifts and clever lies.  Some of these became the horrific Balrogs.  The greatest of Melkor’s servants was Sauron, who was a powerful craftsman and master of lore.

Now, we come to the heart of the book, Quenta Silmarillion: The History of the Silmarils, where the themes established in the music of the Ainur play themselves out.  The central manifestation of these themes involves light.  The first war with Melkor is fought and he flees to the outer darkness.  After this Yavanna plants the seeds of creation and Arda is illuminated with Two Great Lamps.  

A feast is held to celebrate the work of creation.  Melkor secretly returns at this time and builds the mighty fortress Utumno deep underground in the north.  He attacks and destroys the two lamps and Arda is forever changed by the cataclysmic fall of the two gigantic towers upon which the lamps are mounted.  The Valar are saddened by this and leave Middle-earth, fashioning Valinor, a safe place for them away from Melkor.  There Yvanna grows Two Great Trees of light, one of shining silver, the other with leaves of bright golden tips.  These bring splendid light to Valinor and are considered the greatest of all things created by the Valar.

For all their power, the Valar are surprisingly naïve and, at times, unruly.  One of the Valar, impatient to teach crafts to someone and unable to wait from the Children of Ilúvatar (only Ilúvatar knows when and where they will come), creates the seven fathers of the Dwarves.  But Ilúvatar will not sanction this, of course.  The seven fathers are put to sleep and placed in the ground until the firstborn Children arrive.  So, interestingly enough, the Dwarves are the first beings created on Middle-earth.  This, in part, is the source of animosity between them and the Elves later.  It also explains the Dwarves innate preference for mining and digging into the ground.

Yvanna grows nervous about the fate of her creation of plants and animals once Elves, Men and Dwarves start roaming Middle-earth.  She turns to Manwë, Melkor’s brother, for help.  Manwë grants Yvanna’s natural realm (through the power of her own thought when the time comes) the protection of the Eagles and the Ents after the Children arrive.  So this is the origin of those magnificent creatures that play such an important role in Tolkien’s other books.

While there is light in Valinor, Middle-earth remains dark for uncounted time.  Most of the Valar stay away but Yvanna continues to visit there.  She casts a sleep upon all things so that the Spring of Arda will not age or die.  Drops from the silver dew of one of the Two Trees are placed into the sky and thus the brighter stars are created.  Shortly after this the Elves finally emerge near a lake formed by the crash of one of the towers of the Great Lamps.  Because they are born at a time when there was nothing but starlight by which to see on Middle-earth, the Elves are gifted with superior eyesight.

But it is Melkor who finds them before the Valar or the Maiar.  He corrupts many of them.  Shockingly perhaps, it is out of Melkor’s malevolence with the Elves that the race of Orcs is first bred.  Many Elves are terrified and flee and are tragically lost.  But the most noble ones are drawn to the Valar who visit them.  This brings about the second war with Melkor, at which time he is captured and imprisoned for three ages.  (These ages should not be confused with the the keeping of time that begins with the First Age.  This is before time had such meaning.)

Afterwards the Valar are divided about the fate of the Elves.  Some want them to remain in Middle-earth.  But the majority prefer that they come to Valinor and be protected from Melkor’s malice.  At this point the story becomes very complicated.  There are many different kinds of Elves (Vanyar, Noldor, and Teleri) with multiple tribal names and leaders, with multiple names for each leader according to the various languages.  Each tribe settles in different places.  The ones that go to Valinor at that time are known as the Eldar.

Thingol (also known as Elwë) leads one faction of Elves who settle in the woods of Beleriand.  He falls in love with Melian, one of the Maiar, and they are married.  In this way, unprecedentedly, one of the Maiar becomes intermingled with the blood of Elves.  This will play prominently in the story later on.

Perhaps the most skilled Elf of all is born at this time, Fëanor.  His mother dies giving him birth.  His father remarries and has children, which is a source of resentment for Fëanor.  His skill is so glorious that, after long labor, he crafts three jewels - the Silmarils – containing the precious light of the Two Trees.  Even the Valar are amazed at Fëanor’s creation which he wears as a crown and make him even more prideful.

The three ages pass and Melkor is pardoned by Manwë, who does not understand the nature of evil.  Melkor initially feigns helpfulness and gives much useful knowledge to the Elves, who are eager to learn from this great master.  But he is subtle and sows the seeds of many lies.  He encourages the dissent between Fëanor and his half-brothers.  He whispers to the Elves that the Valar want to rule Middle-earth whenever Men come forth.  The Valar failed to mention Men to the Elves.  This makes the lie more convincing.  Fëanor begins to contemplate rebellion against the Valar lest they attempt to rule him and take his Silmarils, which he knew they all admired above all else save the Two Trees.

Finally, Melkor teaches the Elves how to make swords, spears and other weapons of battle.  When Fëanor threatens to kill his half-brother, the Valar mistakenly believe Fëanor is the cause of all this weaponry and deceit.  But the treachery of Melkor becomes known at Fëanor’s trial.  Melkor avoids capture, this time heading south where he finds the giant spider Ungoliant, the ancestor to Shelob of The Lord of the Rings, who has dwelt there unknown to the Valar.  While the Valar are attending yet another one of their festivals, Melkor leads Ungoliant (who possesses the power of Unlight) to Valinor where she kills the glorious Two Trees.  Again, Melkor escapes, this time with Ungoliant.  Again, light fades, this time never to return to its former glory for the Two Trees cannot be replicated by any power.

(to be continued)