Summary
The greatest and most renowned work of Fëanor, indeed of all the Elves, were the Silmarils: three great jewels that held within them the light of the Two Trees intermingled. No one save Fëanor knew what they were made from, and no one save Fëanor knew how he made them. Varda hallowed them so no evil or mortal hand could touch them without being burned, and Mandos foretold that the fates of Arda “lay locked within them.” Fëanor’s own heart was bound in them as his life’s greatest creation. And Melkor lusted for them, and redoubled his efforts to cause a breach between the Elves and the Valar and to bring down Fëanor.
Melkor spoke to the Elves of the wide lands of Middle-earth, and the realms they could rule there if they weren’t held in Valinor. He told them of Men, which the Valar had not, and planted seeds of jealousy towards this younger, short-lived race. Fëanor, though he still refused to speak with Melkor, nonetheless heard the lies that Melkor was spreading and was infected by them. Melkor also spread lies that Fingolfin was planning to usurp Fëanor’s place, further widening the breach in the house of Finwë.
And Melkor spoke to the Noldor of weapons, which they had not conceived of before, and they began forging swords and spears and armor. Fëanor himself forged swords and helms for himself and his sons, and began to speak openly against the Valar.
Finwë was troubled by all of this, and called a council. Before it began Fingolfin approached him, and begged him to restrain Fëanor. Fëanor, fully armed, walked in on this, and saw it as confirmation that Fingolfin sought to usurp his place. Fingolfin left the hall, but was followed by Fëanor, who drew his sword and threatened Fingolfin.
The Valar were aware of the unrest among the Noldor, and called Fëanor (whom they saw as the source of the unrest, since he was the first to speak openly against them) to judgement. Once they began questioning Fëanor and the others of the Noldor, it became apparent that Melkor’s lies were the true source of the unrest. But Fëanor was not held guiltless, and for the threat against his half-brother exiled from Tirion for twelve years. Fëanor left without a word, and departed to the north of Aman. His sons and Finwë went with him.
Tulkas went to seize Melkor the moment his treachery was revealed, but Melkor had already fled, and Tulkas could not find him. But after a time he appeared at the gates of Fëanor’s stronghold, and offered friendship and aid. Fëanor was tempted, but was able to see through Melkor and see how he lusted for the Silmarils. Fëanor cursed him and closed the gates in his face. Melkor, having revealed himself, fled Aman before Oromë and Tulkas could find him.
Commentary
Where to begin with all this.
The Silmarils themselves. Greatest of Fëanor’s works, and yet based on work not his own - the light they shine with is Yavanna’s, a fact that Fëanor conveniently forgets. They also emphasize the clear difference between Fëanor and that other greatest of craftsman, Aulë. Aulë delights in teaching, and doesn’t hoard the works of his hand. Fëanor keeps his secrets, and eventually keeps the Silmarils locked away from the sight of everyone but his father and his sons.
Melkor’s lies are clever, and have enough of the truth in them to be potent. I particularly have to admire the way he used the silence of the Valar regarding Men against them. It’s also worth remembering that this is an account from ancient days, and I appreciate that weapons weren’t something the Elves had even conceived of before Melkor gave them the idea.
Yet Fëanor, as the Valar rightly judged, is not blameless in all of this. Melkor’s lies inflamed his passions, but he was working with what was already there. Fëanor himself chose to draw his sword and threaten Fingolfin, and Fëanor chose to speak out against the Valar. Remember that Tolkien was a devout Catholic. Free will: shit’s important, yo.
I’m very not impressed with Finwë during this read-through, something I don’t recall ever feeling on earlier reads. The guy is more than just ineffectual; as far as Fëanor goes, he doesn’t appear to even try to act as a father, let alone a king.
On a personal note, this chapter is the source of the flair I’ve been using on /r/TolkienFans for years now: “See, half-brother! This is sharper than thy tongue.” You’re an asshole, Fëanor, but you’ve got a way with words.
Bring a flashlight on Friday, because we’re going to learn Of the Darkening of Valinor.
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