Summary
Fëanor was the son of Finwë and his wife Míriel. Fëanor’s spirit was so potent, and Míriel had poured so much of her’s into her son, that she became weary even of life in Aman. Her spirit departed her body for the Halls of Mandos. Finwë was deeply grieved, and devoted all of his love to Fëanor, who was brilliant and masterfully skilled. He was also stubborn and willful. He married his wife Nerdanel while still quite young, and she bore seven sons. She was more patient and understanding than her husband, and was (sometimes) able to keep his temper under control, but they eventually were estranged. Some (not all) of their sons took after her temperament, at least in part.
Finwë eventually married again, to Indis of the Vanyar, and they had two sons: Fingolfin and Finarfin. Fëanor was displeased by this, and never liked his stepmother or his half-brothers. Finwë was happy with his new wife, but grieved by the estrangement it brought with his son.
Meanwhile, Melkor has now spent three Ages confined in his pit in the Halls of Mandos, and was brought forth to plead his case again. He was envious of the bliss of Valinor, and lusted for all the wealth and beauty he saw, but kept that part of his mind hidden, and claimed to have seen the error of his ways and asked for mercy. Manwë granted him parole, and Melkor gave his teaching and council freely to both Elves and Valar (who benefited greatly from it). Ulmo didn’t buy it, and neither did Tulkas, but they didn’t act on their suspicions.
Melkor gave most of his council to the Noldor, and began planting subtle seeds of malice and discontent among them. He also claimed to have taught Fëanor much, though this was a lie told in jealousy of Fëanor’s skills. All that Fëanor did, he did on his own, and he never sought Melkor’s council or would have listened to it if offered.
Commentary
I called the previous chapter the end of the beginning. This chapter, appropriately, is the beginning of the heart of the Quenta Silmarillion: it is the deeds of Fëanor, and the malice of Melkor, that will drive everything that comes after. He’s an absolute genius, by far the greatest craftsman who ever was. Gandalf himself spoke of using the palantír
to look across the wide seas of water and of time to Tirion the Fair, and perceive the unimaginable hand and mind of Fëanor at their work, while both the White Tree and the Golden were in flower!
Not only does Gandalf consider Fëanor’s skills “unimaginable,” he rates looking at them as something as equally worthy as seeing the light of the Trees again. That’s some pretty high praise. But his ego is equally remarkable, and that’s going to be a problem.
The rift in the house of Finwë is also going to cause problems. The half-sibling relationship between Fëanor and Fingolfin & Finarfin is, interestingly, unique among the Elves. Makes sense when you think about it: Elves don’t really die. Their spirits go to the Halls of Mandos, and are eventually re-embodied. Tolkien, devout Catholic that he was, believed that marriage was truly forever. In Finwë’s case, he actually got special dispensation from the Valar to remarry, once it was clear that Míriel was never going to come back.
Another metric of just how potent Fëanor’s spirit was: he drew so much of Míriel’s spirit that she was left drained for all of time. Fëanor himself, by comparison, had such strength of spirit that he was able to father seven mighty sons (a remarkably high number for the Elves, and absolutely a metric of the strength of his spirit).
Moving on to Melkor. There are some very interesting parallels to Sauron that I don’t recall noticing before, especially Second Age Sauron. Melkor is playing a subtle game here, and a long one. He plays his part well, and the teachings he gives are genuinely valuable, but at the same time he’s sewing seeds of evil in Valinor. The parallels to Sauron posing as Annatar, Lord of Gifts, full of helpful advice for the eager Ring-smiths of Eregion, are clear.
Further speaking of Sauron, I found this passage super interesting:
it seemed to Manwë that the evil of Melkor was cured. For Manwë was free from evil and could not comprehend it, and he knew that in the beginning, in the thought of Ilúvatar, Melkor had been even as he; and he saw not to the depths of Melkor’s heart, and did not perceive that all love had departed from him for ever.
Anyone else see, in Manwë’s inability to comprehend evil, a parallel to Sauron’s inability to comprehend the rejection of power that made the destruction of the Ring a possibility?
Also interesting that the Noldor were the ones who most paid attention to what he had to say. It makes sense, though I’ve never thought about it before this read. Of all the Valar, Aulë was most like to Melkor in his abilities, so it makes perfect sense that the Noldor would be most in tune with Melkor themselves. I also find interesting how much Tolkien emphasizes that Fëanor might have been caught up in the webs Melkor was weaving, he never actually spoke to him or took any advice.
This was hard commentary to write, mostly because I kept wanting to talk about where all this is going. Luckily nothing says I can’t work ahead and start writing “Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor.”
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