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On the Oath of Fëanor
I have a lot of thoughts on the Oath of Fëanor (below from Tolkien Gateway):
Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean, brood of Morgoth or bright Vala, Elda or Maia or Aftercomer, Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth, neither law, nor love, nor league of swords, dread nor danger, not Doom itself, shall defend him from Fëanor, and Fëanor's kin, whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh, finding keepeth or afar casteth a Silmaril. This swear we all: death we will deal him ere Day's ending, woe unto world's end! Our word hear thou, Eru Allfather! To the everlasting Darkness doom us if our deed faileth. On the holy mountain hear in witness and our vow remember, Manwë and Varda!
Most interpretations of the oath assume that the oath will be fulfilled as long as one of them holds the Silmarils, but in fact, the oath does not make any exceptions. It maybe implicit, but it does not explicitly state it. I have seen (though I cannot find it now), one interpretation where it causes the Feanorians to fight amongst themselves until only Maglor is left standing, and that seems to be the most direct interpretation of the oath.
I wonder though, if the oath is binding even after they have the Silmarils in hand. Taking a very literal interpretation of the oath, anyone who hides, holds, keeps or throws a Silmaril is subject to the oath, including oneself. Is that why Maedhros threw himself into the volcano? Because he realized that he couldn’t stop pursuing violence, against his brother, and even against himself, and destroying himself was the only way he could both follow the oath and free himself from it.
As for whether the oath is magically binding or just an excuse used by the Fëanorians, if the latter, there is no effort required at all to break it of course, but if it is magically binding, what would it take to break the oath.
Semantics matter a great deal in Tolkien’s world, as we have seen with the prophecy of the Witch-King, and with the variety of creatures in Tolkien’s world (which Fëanor probably didn’t know about), there are quite a few left out - Ents, Hobbits and Dwarves, but even Orcs, Goblins and Dragons! It seems that if any of these were holding the Silmarils, the oath would not stir.
Another alternative (assuming that it is the case that if Fëanor’s kin were to hold the Silmarils the oath would be fulfilled), would be to hand them over to any of Fëanor’s kin who could hold the Silmarils. Who determines who counts as kin? Maedhros may count Fingon and Maedhros and Maglor may count Elrond (and even perhaps Earendil by extension, and Elrond’s children). All of the sons may count Nerdanel (but would Fëanor, after calling her a traitor). They may all consider Celebrimbor, though he may not consider them kin any more. And they may all consider Miriel as kin. So there are a good number of people who may be able to hold a Silmaril without being burnt, and without the oath waking.
However, neither of the two suggestions above are permanent solutions - because at any time some dark or desperate person may steal the Silmaril, and waken the oath again.
There are only two options IMO to break the oath
1. To break the Silmarils (which Fëanor was reluctant to do, as it may very well destroy him), and unravel the oath, as there is now no one who holds, takes or casts away a Silmaril
or
2. For Fëanor and his sons to say that all the world is their kin (and mean it). And how difficult that would be for Fëanor, with so much of his self tied up in hating his half-brothers and sisters! But all he has to say is “All people are my brothers and sisters”, and he would be free of the oath.
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The top 100 ships in Chinese fandom according to Lofter
Lofter is by far the most popular fandom platform in China. Fans tag their fic/art/meta posts with ships, just like on Tumblr, except that the number of views and posts for a tag are shown when you search for it. Here are the top 100 pairings on Lofter of all time ordered by the number of posts, as of today (May 1 2021):
Idle observations and link to data below.
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One of the reasons I love Jingyan, is that not only did he not bend all those years in the wilderness, but he didn’t change his goals or loyalties even after he started gaining power. I think for many people, it’s easier to hold on to one’s ideals when suffering nobly, rather than in prosperity.
So many people we see today, as they become richer and more powerful, having become beneficiaries of the system, forget that they ever wanted to change it in the first place, or at the very least, they don’t want to risk changing the aspects that would inconvenience them. We see this everyday in politicians who make promises to get elected, but set aside their promises “for a later day”.
Jingyan on the other hand, every chance he had to take the easier path, even when there would be no benefit to him, still chose the harder one - rescuing Wei Zheng and most importantly raising the case with the emperor. He could have basked in the affection of the emperor, which he had never before had; he could have said, “Wait until I am emperor, I will restore the names of the Lin Family, and Prince Qi and their supporters.”; but he made it his priority, even though it came with the risk that the emperor might shore up enough support, might be warned ahead of time (as Consort Yue tried to warn him in the novel), even though he may lose, not only his position but his life, and the lives of the few remaining whom he loves.
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elizabeth's grand theory of faramirs
(Note: I do not like Faramir in the movies, and this is mostly an exploration of their differences from that perspective. I tried to avoid bashing, but eh. It’s also really long, much longer than I originally expected. You can watch/listen to the whole thing here.)
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I think I’ve finally–after all these years–had an epiphany about movie Faramir vs. book Faramir. How the discussions generally seem to go is this:
Faramir = nice and mild, thus where movie Faramir = nice and mild, movie Faramir = book Faramir. Where movie Faramir comes across as morally unjust, movie Faramir not only isn’t book Faramir, but falls outside the acceptable range of Faramirness. These unacceptable breaks are regarded as lapses in his character, inconsistencies between mostly-like-Faramir and not-at-all-like-Faramir.
On the other hand, if we look at movie Faramir’s character as a whole, I think two critical traits emerge. One, he’s generally accommodating, good-natured, and conflict-averse (not willful or independent; also not scholarly or otherworldly). Two, he’s overpoweringly driven by the desire to earn the affection and approval of his father–it defines who he is in a very large part, and is his overriding motivation for everything.
It’s not that he’s ‘not exactly like book Faramir,’ but rather, exactly what his defenders always said: he’s a different person. He doesn’t have OOC lapses now and then; his personality is radically, and consistently, different.
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For serious, I’m very angry about the Valar’s entitlement to the Silmarils and the way in which the hallowing completely changes the meaning of the Silmarils and the context surrounding their making.
I very much doubt that Fëanor intended the Silmarils to play the role they did, to be inextricably wrapped up in the fate of Arda and be impartial judges of worthiness and moral fiber. Fëanor is not especially concerned with objective morality. His view of “worthiness” is entirely based on innovation, and creativity, and independent thought. That’s what the Silmarils meant to him. They were a symbol of artistic ingenuity and scientific progress, proof of Fëanor’s ability to push the boundaries of the possible. Their existence is entirely wrapped up in the restlessness and impatience of his mind to know and create more. They were his.
The Valar took something that was made by Fëanor, the culmination of his mental willpower, and altered it for their own means. They turned it into an indicator of their narrow view of morality, a kind of morality that I assume was repellent to Fëanor. They were threatened by the level of ability that he displayed, so they had to reshape his creation into something that was useful to them.
I hate it.
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Did the Valar have a right to the Silmarils? Should Fëanor have copyrighted them? Yes or no?
Enjoy me arguing the seemingly paradoxical point that ‘Yes, the Valar were in the wrong, but so was Fëanor.’
The Valar per se did not have a right to the Silmarils, but the world had.
One question for you all – if the world was in serious danger, and you were the only one who could save it with one of your inventions, would you not jump to the occasion? If the Sun was waning, and you could rekindle it with one of your awesome crystals, would you not do it?
The Trees didn’t shine only to the Valar. It is not as if they wanted to put the Silmarils on their mantelpiece. Fëanor was definitely projecting onto them Melkor’s motivation:
It seemed to him that he was beset in a ring of enemies, and the words of Melkor returned to him, saying that the Silmarils were not safe, if the Valar would possess them. ‘And is he not Vala as are they,’ said his thought, ‘and does he not understand their hearts? Yea, a thief shall reveal thieves!’ (Silm)
And Melkor wanted to put the Silmarils on his mantelpiece head.
However, the fact is that the stakes weren’t actually that high. Yes, the Trees were destroyed, but the Valar had the option, which they later explored, to make some other source of light, and so they, after a while, made the Sun and the Moon (I cannot force my brain to write that the Moon is a source of light).
With no significant trouble. So, the situation wasn’t so dire. They had other options available to them from the beginning.
Why were they then so hung up on Fëanor’s crystals? Did they just want to break them because of jealousy and possessiveness?
I would argue most strongly no, they were not, but here is, I think, evident a very human flaw of the Valar. The Valar wanted to break the Silmarils so that they could practically erase, revoke Melkor’s evil deed. They wanted their Trees back (which they created). I personally think they shouldn’t have wanted this. What they should have done was to immediately make a new creation (the Sun) and not stop in their tracks and try to turn back time by destroying Fëanor’s work. What they wanted to do was essentially, as Yavanna so succinctly puts it:
“(…) then our hurt should be healed, and the malice of Melkor be confounded.”
was to do something that would practically have the same effect as if Melkor’s action never had happened and they thought that this would make them feel as if the loss of the Trees never had happened.
However, this is impossible and definitely something which I would argue was a mistake on the part of the Valar, but not necessarily a malicious mistake, more a mistake of perception. Emotionally tied to a world which was their (sub-)creation, they forget in this moment that:
(…) it (is) the essential mode of the process of ‘history’ in Arda that evil should constantly arise, and that out of it new good should constantly come. (HoME 10)
However, and here we come to the interesting part of this argument, I do think that Fëanor should have said yes to them. I think he should have been willing to give the Silmarils over because believing that he will do something even greater than the Silmarils in the future would have been psychologically beneficial to him. Fëanor too, as the Valar at this point in the story, is stuck in time, in the moment of creation of the Silmarils about which he thinks:
For the less even as for the greater there is some deed that he may accomplish but once only; and in that deed his heart shall rest. It may be that I can unlock my jewels, but never again shall I make their like; and if I must break them, I shall break my heart, and I shall be slain.
This line is extremely cool and it left quite an impression on me when I first read it (and the fifty times after that), but Fëanor is here actually selling himself short. He thinks of the Silmarils as the peak of his creation and this is his greatest mistake. He became rigid, lost the incentive to create more and this rigidity is the precursor of his death. He deserted his future creations by going after Morgoth.
However, what is most interesting in this whole story is, if Fëanor had said ‘yes’, the Valar’s intent to break the Silmarils to revive the Trees would have still not be possible, because Melkor had already stolen them. The story does not allow the Valar to revive the Trees in this manner, but Fëanor would have been saved because, by being ready to give the Silmarils to the Valar, he would have freed himself to do new creative works, would have admitted to himself that his heart did not lie in any of his work, but in the constant motion of creation.
And the text seems to imply this:
The Silmarils had passed away, and all one it may seem whether Fëanor had said yea or nay to Yavanna; yet had he said yea at the first, before the tidings came from Formenos, it may be that his after deeds would have been other than they were. (Silm)
Thanks to all who read this, and if you have any questions or any kind of input, don’t be shy! I’m always ready for debate, especially now when I have (somewhat) more free time! Asks, anonymous or otherwise are also quite welcome.
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“Therindion”
Sometimes I think we underestimate how important Miriel is. We attribute a lot of Feanor’s characterization to Finwe. We say he has “daddy issues”. We tend to portray a lot of his personality as something inherited from his father in one way or another. His mother isn’t brought up as often, it occasionally seems.
Miriel makes up so much of Feanor’s identity. Her name is his name. He’s even used as an example in the part of LaCE where the Noldorin concept of linguistic and personal identity is discussed:
“But every child among the Noldor (in which point, maybe, they differed from the other Eldar) had also the right to name himself or herself. Now the first ceremony, the announcement of the father-name, was called the Essecarme or ‘Name-making’. Later there was another ceremony called the Essecilme or ’Name-choosing’. This took place at no fixed date after the Essecarme, but could not take place before the child was deemed ready and capable of lamatyave, as the Noldor called it: that is, of individual pleasure in the sounds and forms of words. The Noldor were of all the Eldar the swiftest in acquiring word-mastery; but even among them few before at least the seventh year had become fully aware of their own individual lamatyave, or had gained a complete mastery of the inherited language and its structure, so as to express this tyave skilfully within its limits. The Essecilme, therefore, the object of which was the expression of this personal characteristic,’ usually took place at or about the end of the tenth year. (…)
* This lamatyave was held a mark of individuality, and more important indeed than others, such as stature, colour, and features of face. (…)
Renowned examples of these things are found in the early histories. Thus Finwe, first lord of the Noldor, first named his eldest son Finwion; but later when his talent was revealed this was modified to Curufinwe. But the name of insight which his mother Miriel gave to him in the hour of birth was Feanaro 'Spirit of Fire’; and by this name he became known to all, and he is so called in all the histories. (It is said that he also took this name as his chosen name, in honour of his mother, whom he never saw.)”
To the Noldor, language is identity. It’s more important than any other facet of identity. Feanor identifies himself with Miriel so much that his chosen name, which represents his understanding of himself, is the one Miriel gave him. He identifies with her so much that he calls himself “son of Miriel”. Consider how unusual it is for someone to name themself their mother’s child, specifically. How many other elves can you think of who identify themselves that way? As the heir of their mother rather than just as the heir of their father?
He identifies with her so much that his very speech patterns revolve around her. I’ve seen some people characterize him as resistant to linguistic change in general, but his resistance is to one change in particular, and that resistance is a “shibboleth”. It’s a social and personal identifier. It shows everyone who he is, and that is his mother’s heir.
And Feanor was most like his mother as a child, in appearance and personality, but even as he grew and became more like Finwe his personality remained most like hers. Miriel is described as incredibly strong-willed more than once, and is said to be the type of person who makes their words a law unto themselves. Feanor gets his incredible will from her; he’s her “Spirit of Fire”. Finwe may be fiery - he is a Noldo - but it’s never made sense to me to attribute this quality of Feanor’s to him alone. It feels almost like discrediting Miriel.
Likewise it seems usual to assume that Feanor’s issues with the Valar are entirely his own, but I don’t think that’s the case. After Miriel’s death, the Valar debate who is more at fault: Miriel for leaving her family, or Finwe for not waiting for her forever. Feanor doesn’t seem inclined to blame either of his parents. Nor does he seem to entirely blame Indis, though he obviously doesn’t like her or her children. No, he blames the Valar. The Valar who decided that no elf may have more than one spouse living and thereby doomed Miriel to eternal death. The Valar who would prevent her from returning to life with her family, who will always prevent her from being with Finwe again no matter what. The Valar who sentenced someone to imprisonment unending for being tired, and another to the same for being lonely, both of them separated against their will until the end of the world.
So often we only see Feanor as fighting for his own personal freedom, but that’s not all of it. He’s fighting for Miriel’s freedom; For her rights, for her choices. It was her choice to be called “Therinde” rather than “Serinde”, and Feanor would see that choice respected. He would tear himself apart, he would die, before he allowed anyone to violate her rights.
I just have a lot of feelings about this, okay?
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For serious, I’m very angry about the Valar’s entitlement to the Silmarils and the way in which the hallowing completely changes the meaning of the Silmarils and the context surrounding their making.
I very much doubt that Fëanor intended the Silmarils to play the role they did, to be inextricably wrapped up in the fate of Arda and be impartial judges of worthiness and moral fiber. Fëanor is not especially concerned with objective morality. His view of “worthiness” is entirely based on innovation, and creativity, and independent thought. That’s what the Silmarils meant to him. They were a symbol of artistic ingenuity and scientific progress, proof of Fëanor’s ability to push the boundaries of the possible. Their existence is entirely wrapped up in the restlessness and impatience of his mind to know and create more. They were his.
The Valar took something that was made by Fëanor, the culmination of his mental willpower, and altered it for their own means. They turned it into an indicator of their narrow view of morality, a kind of morality that I assume was repellent to Fëanor. They were threatened by the level of ability that he displayed, so they had to reshape his creation into something that was useful to them.
I hate it.
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I Grieve for Manwë
I really do. I know I can’t be the only one who can’t help but think of Manwë during that moment in the Máhanaxar during Fëanor’s trial. You know, during Námo’s interrogation when Fëanor confesses the source of the accusations he’s reciting about Fingolfin and all the discontent and whatnot? I know all the focus is on Fëanor, turning then to Melkor as the truth is finally revealed, and then additionally on Tulkas when he takes off then and there to hunt down their wayward Brother, and then again to Fëanor as Námo redirects everyone’s attention back to the purpose of the trial.
But am I the only one who can’t help but think of Manwë in that scene?
Manwë’s reaction to Fëanor’s confession was never told, and I imagine that he was as stoic-faced as at any other time during the trial (or serene-faced or beatific-faced or whatever regal and patient bearing Manwë has). But what must have been going through his mind when he heard that? How must he have felt? Here Manwë is, up until this day, believing that his older brother has been cured, has corrected his ways, that things had returned to the way they were in the Timeless Halls before they had ever entered Eä. Only to find out that it wasn’t true, that he had been deceived just as much as (if not more than) the Elf who stood in the Ring.
He must have been heartbroken.
Manwë wasn’t the only one of his Brethren Melkor deceived during his time of repentance. But when all others had at one point or another forsaken any and all hope in their Eldest, Manwë was the only Being on record who had never given up on Melkor, even at his lowest and most disgraceful. He still loved him so greatly that he sincerely believed Melkor was not beyond redemption. Maybe he had too much faith, gave too much benefit of the doubt as to be blindsided. And the fact that Melkor knew how to manipulate his little brother and the realization that he’d perfectly played him like a well-tuned harp had to have only twisted the knife further.
Whenever I reread Fëanor’s trial, I often come back to Manwë and how I just can’t get over the sad feels for him and the big, comforting bear-hug I want to give him. Because what in the world must he have been thinking and feeling when Fëanor revealed Melkor’s treachery out of nowhere like that? Revealed that Melkor never actually had returned to his side as Manwë prayed he would for all those Ages? How must he have felt? It was the only thing he ached for.
I mean, he just wanted his big brother back.
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How long has it been since I’ve ranted about Fëanor and the narrative double standard? Reading the silm, it seems like consensus is that he’s solitary and arrogant and ambitious and unstable and generally weird, but that’s okay, because his works benefit everyone. And it’s okay as long as his works benefit everyone.
The Valar, at least, have been doing it since he was a small child. Just look at Aulë’s statement on Míriel’s death:
‘But did this matter indeed arise out of Arda Marred?’ heasked. 'For it seemeth to me that it arose from the bearing ofFëanáro. Now Finwë and all the Noldor that followed him were never in heart or thought swayed by Melkor, the Marrer; how then did this strange thing come to pass, even in Aman the Unshadowed? That the bearing of a child should lay such a weariness upon the mother that she desired life no longer. This child is the greatest in gifts that hath arisen or shall arise among the Eldar. But the Eldar are the first Children of Eru, and belong to him directly.
Aulë likes Fëanor more than any of the other Valar - Ulmo’s about to say that the whole incident, including Fëanor’s birth, is a result of the marring of Arda- but this is still very disturbing. He’s saying that Eru must have wanted Míriel to die, and because [Aulë’s operating under the mistaken assumption that] Eru isn’t evil, it can only be because Fëanor is so extraordinary he can make up for it. My life has gone out into Fëanáro, my son.
Is anyone, honestly, surprised that Fëanor is arrogant and insecure? He’s heard his whole life from literal deities that he has to be the best, at everything, all the time, because anything else means he’ll have caused unconscionable suffering just by being born. Everyone expects him to be the most special, pretty much from birth, and it’s play along or accept that by existing you destroyed the happiness of everyone you care about. And as he gets older and smarter and stranger, he starts having to make up for more and more.
This transitions into the general sense that he’s public property. Pengolodh mentions his tendency toward self-isolation several times, and it’s always pejorative. He chooses to live apart from his step-family as a young adult, and it’s immediately tied to their later feud. He prefers to work alone, because he’s arrogant and stubborn. It’s not just about Míriel anymore. He’s expected to be a paragon, and he’s expected to be a paragon in a very public way. He has to keep creating, and keep creating, and keep creating. He’s the best, but Eru forbid he take any credit for it. It’s because god made him that way, it’s because the music said so.
The Valar’s reaction to the darkening, the first kinslaying, the flight of the Ñoldor, etc. is where this reaches its most disturbing.
And they mourned not more for the death of the Trees than for the marring of Fëanor: of the works of Melkor one of the most evil. For Fëanor was made the mightiest in all parts of body and mind, in valour, in endurance, in beauty, in understanding, in skill, in strength and in subtlety alike, of all the Children of Ilúvatar, and a bright flame was in him. The works of wonder for the glory of Arda that he might otherwise have wrought only Manwë might in some measure conceive.
Obvious concerns aside - hundreds of people (at least) are dead, Morgoth is loose, and this is what you choose to focus on what the hell Manwë - it’s alarmingly revisionist. Notice how Fëanor suddenly isn’t responsible for any of the aforementioned mass murder? And, I mean, not that Melkor isn’t - but the Valar are incapable of conceiving of someone who’s genuinely brilliant and talented and creative and visionary and still fucks up. Under his own power. Badly. He’s not a real person. He’s a symbol, he’s the common good, and that attitude leaks down insidiously. We see it in Pengolodh, we see it in Gandalf in the third age.
They’re not grieving Fëanor for Fëanor. They’re grieving Fëanor for themselves, and for Valinor, because their paradise is short one star attraction. They’re mourning everything he could have done for them.
And that brings me to what I actually want to talk about, which is the silmarils.
Of course, I think Fëanor had a right to them. And I’m convinced that his purpose for them was admirable, which is a different screed. But I’m mostly interested in why he wanted them so badly, and why I get so worked up over that desire being respected.
They’re his. And, much more importantly, he’s his. Everything he creates, everything accomplishes, everything he does and says and is, is for him and for him first. He doesn’t have to fulfill a series of impossible standards to be a person, he is one. He doesn’t have to be the most brilliant person ever to live for his family to love him, they do. And he doesn’t have to smash his greatest works and let the light he captured leak into the ground because he wasn’t an inhuman monster to begin with.
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