The Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien
Hello, Stranger.
Primary Driver: (Plot, World, or Character)
Bechdel Test: Pass
Technobabble: N/A.
Review: This is epic fantasy in its purest form; it is myth and legend, at times obtuse, but absolutely riveting. Tolkien's world is fully immersive. Had the physical book to follow the story, the audiobook for pronunciation, and laptop for family trees. Absolutely worth it - even as a casual LoTR fan.
Therefore the march-wardens said to Aredhel: ‘To the land of Celegorm for which you seek, Lady, you may by no means pass through the realm of King Thingol; you must ride beyond the Girdle of Melian, to the south or to the north. The speediest way is by the paths that lead east from the Brithiach through Dimbar and along the north-march of this kingdom, until you pass the Bridge of Esgalduin and the Fords of Aros, and come to the lands that lie behind the Hill of Himring. There dwell, as we believe, Celegorm and Curufin, and it may be that you will find them; but the road is perilous.’
New names and places are constantly introduced, old ones become relevant again after 100 pages, and ancestors are often critical knowledge. The copy I have includes maps and family trees, but constantly flipping back and forth breaks the flow of reading beyond repair. And doesn't help with pronunciation.
Deciding to listen to this as an audiobook changed the experience completely. I was no longer locked in with an indecipherable mass; I was listening to an epic tale. I still had to follow in the book and reference materials, but it was suddenly worth it.
There are an astounding number of different stories in here, interrelated, but don't expect much about the One Ring and topics related to the Lord of the Rings. This is also not background; it is its own epic, and judged as such it passes beautifully.
Writing is crisp but fantastical. Tolkien pulls you deep enough into his world that outrageous things can happen and you can say nothing but, "Indeed, it must be so, for it flows from the folly of Fëanor." And that sentence makes sense! It is a world that follows its own rules, and you can't help but follow as well.
This book is an astounding piece of literature. There are certainly those for whom this just won't do it. It's too obtuse, it's too dense, impossible names are everywhere. And don't get me started on those who have one name for some races and another for others, or have a name, then take on another... looking at you, Camlost.
But if you're willing to put in a bit of work, this book is really, really something. I had the occasional "A ha!" moment of knowing a name or two. Most of this was all new to me. And dang is it cool. In a couple weeks I won't be able to tell you much about Fingolfin and the duel at the gate, or how Morgoth tricked his captors, or which of the humans fought for the Valar. Right now, however, it is all abuzz in my head. I keep replaying scenes, going back to double check families
The sons of Hador were Galdor and Gundor; and the sons of Galdor were Húrin and Huor; and the son of Húrin was Túrin the Bane of Glaurung; and the son of Huor was Tuor, father of Eärendil the Blessed. The son of Boromir was Bregor, whose sons were Bregolas and Barahir; and the sons of Bregolas were Baragund and Belegund. The daughter of Baragund was Morwen, the mother of Túrin, and the daughter of Belegund was Rían, the mother of Tuor. But the son of Barahir was Beren One-hand, who won the love of Lúthien Thingol’s daughter, and returned from the Dead; from them came Elwing the wife of Eärendil, and all the Kings of Númenor after.
It really is incredible. I don't know what else to say. Listen to it, be ready to cross-reference, and enjoy it.
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One link to rule them all!
Usually, at this point, I would shift to the review with spoilers. There's just too much to talk about and nothing that I can really add. It's like running into someone you were once friends with and haven't seen in a decade. Far too much to say for any of it to make sense, and instead you just kinda awkwardly stand on a street corner in Berkeley looking at each other and trying to make it seem like you have any interest in one another anymore, which doesn't last long, because sure you were friends in high school but not like close, and the light just won't change so there you both are, secretly hoping the other will decide to go a different route, then both turning at the same time to go the same different way, and jamming yourselves back into the same spot, until eventually you just say, "Look, Claire, I'm glad you're doing okay, but this is awkward as hell," and then to add insult to injury one of you goes for the hug and the other for the handshake and you decide to never return to Berkeley again which is a shame because you love the burritos.
I guess what I'm saying is that if we had both read The Silmarillion we would have had something to talk about.
Hypothetically.
Well, this was cathartic. Thanks, Stranger.
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