The First Meeting of Aragorn and Arwen. Or is it Beren and Lúthien?

Last week’s post ended with the words:

“And so Aragorn the King Elessar wedded Arwen Undómiel in the City of the Kings upon the day of Midsummer, and tale of their long waiting and labours was come to fulfilment.”

And for the next few weeks I wish to leave the main text of The Lord of the Rings, just for a little while, and turn to the story of their labours as Tolkien recounts it in the appendices to The Return of the King. In my copy published by Collins Modern Classics in 2001 it is entitled Here Follows a Part of the Tale of Aragorn and Arwen and can be found on page 1032.

The tale tells how Aragorn’s father, Arathorn, and grandfather, Arador, were both slain in conflict with orcs and with trolls in the wilds of Eriador and how Aragorn was taken with his mother, Gilraen, when still a small child, to be raised in Rivendell. It tells how Elrond took the place of his father and named him Estel, meaning Hope. Soon he was riding as a young brave warrior with Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond and he “was fair and noble”.

Then came a day that would change his life for ever. Elrond called him to tell him who he really was. He gave him his true name and told him that he was the heir of Isildur and Elendil and he gave him the ring of Barahir and the shards of Narsil. Already Aragorn knew the stories of these heirlooms. He knew that Barahir had been given the ring by Finrod Felagund of the House of Finarfin of the Noldor as a symbol of eternal friendship, and how, after Barahir had been slain by orcs his son, Beren had recovered his father’s body, slaying his killer, and after laying his father to rest had kept the ring. And he knew that Narsil had been shattered in battle between Elendil and Sauron and how Isildur had seized the broken shards and with them cut the Ring from Sauron’s hand.

One heirloom only did Elrond withhold and that was the sceptre of Annúminas. Only the king of Arnor could hold this and Aragorn was but a chieftain of the Dúnedain and no king.

Elrond in his wisdom did two things in this giving and withholding of gifts. He gave a mighty father’s blessing to the young man. He bestowed the first fruits of glory upon him. The Gospels show this essential principle in the story of the baptism of Jesus who hears the Father’s voice declaring that he is the true and beloved son of the Father and that the Father loves him. Every young man needs to know his glory as he begins his journey to mature manhood. If a father, or one who takes the father’s place, withholds his blessing, or there is no-one able or willing to give the blessing, then the young man feels himself still to be a boy and not a man who can stand alongside his father. But Elrond does another thing. By withholding the sceptre he gives Aragorn his task in life. Only by becoming the king can he receive this gift. He knows what he must do.

It is with the joy of tasting his own glory and knowing his vocation that Aragorn leaves Elrond. Tolkien says that “his heart was high within him” and that is how it should be with a young man. He is singing a part of The Lay of Lúthien the song of the love of his glorious ancestor, Beren, and of Lúthien Tinúviel, a song that he now feels to be one of which he is a part, sharing its glory, and when he sees Arwen Undómiel for the first time it is as if the very story that he has been singing comes to life before him and he calls her, Tinúviel! He learns who she is and why he has never seen her before. She has been with Galadriel in Lothlórien. Immediately his heart is lost to her and I rather think that she likes his comparing of her to her foremother, Lúthien, the most beautiful and most celebrated of all the women of the Eldar.

And so their tale begins. And if it starts with glory and delight then it will be tested to the limit and beyond the limit of their endurance. All love must be tested thus as in a fire so that what is left is what is true. Now begins the labour. Now begins the waiting.

Last week’s artwork came from the Hildebrant brothers and stimulated some conversation on social media. Think week’s is by Cathy Chan and I found it on Pinterest. I think it delightfully captures Aragorn and Arwen in their youth before their labours. I hope that you enjoy it.

 

Sam asks “Don’t the Great Tales Never End?”

Ever since I first encountered it I have loved and been enriched by the work of John O’Donohue, Irish poet, philosopher and some time priest who died in 2008. When I began to think about this week’s blog posting I was drawn back to other pieces that I have written and to a poem entitled, Fluent, that O’Donohue wrote and published in his 2000 collection entitled Connemara Blues.

“I would love to live / like a river flows,/ Carried by the surprise/ Of its own unfolding.”

In just a few words O’Donohue describes a way of life that is characterised by surprise. O’Donohue loved to laugh and the unexpectedness of the present moment would be the cause in him of delighted merriment. I have just returned from driving my daughter to the local railway station for a day’s classes in college and as I drove back I listened to a mathematician say that when he finds beauty in a mathematical equation it is because of a fundamental human desire for order and predictability. Oh how O’Donohue would have chuckled with amusement if he had heard that! Of course the woodland stream by which I pray each morning is capable of  being reduced to a mathematical description but once we begin to speak of beauty then it is not predictability that delights us but the endless surprise of the play of light upon the water, the way the way the stream dances about ever shifting obstacles in its path or in one heart stopping moment by the flight of a kingfisher along its length. Something much greater than mathematics has entered our hearts.

So it is that when Sam thinks of great tales he remembers the story of Beren and Lúthien taking the Silmaril from the Iron Crown of Morgoth in the terrible fortress of Thangorodrim. “That was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours,” he says, and then goes on to remember the bringing of the Silmaril to Eärendil and in surprise and wonder he cries out, “And why, sir, I never thought of that before! We’ve got- you’ve got some of the light of it in that star-glass that the Lady gave you! Why, to think of it, we’re in the same tale still! It’s going on. Don’t the great tales never end?”

A year ago I wrote a piece in this blog entitled On Hearing The Music of the Ainur https://stephencwinter.com/2014/12/31/on-hearing-the-music-of-the-ainur/ where I reflected on Frodo’s “dream of music that turned into running water, and then suddenly into a voice” and the voice is that of Bilbo telling, chanting the story of  Eärendil in the halls of Elrond in Rivendell. In his dream an “endless river of swelling gold and silver” flows over him. Later in the evening he tells Bilbo that Bilbo’s song seemed “to fit somehow” with his dream. Frodo has for a moment been given an insight into the nature of the story of which he is now a part and it is dream and flowing river and it is music and verses chanted. Sam now glimpses what Frodo experienced that night. Like Frodo he is in the same story. (Do read it and if you have time please read the Comments that followed it. They are deeply moving and enriching.)

It was G.K Chesterton, a writer who exercised great influence over Tolkien, who said that the reason we need to be told of rivers of gold and silver or trees with golden leaves and fruit is that we have forgotten the wonder of the rivers that we know or the astonishing moment when we first knew that a leaf was green! Sam touches upon the wonder that transforms the tale of which he is now a part. He speaks in the shadow of the Ephel Dúath the outer fence of Mordor, wearied by the climb up the Great Stair from the dead vale of Minas Morgul. He is hungry and the sweat of his effort has been chilled upon his body as he rests. So a parent may wearily change a nappy or feed a hungry baby in the long dark hours of the night and forget for a moment the wonder of which she is a part and then be caught up in delight once again. Perhaps she may catch a glimpse of the story of which she is a part.