By Oshun
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Read Part 1 and Part 2 of the biography of Lúthien.
At the end of Part II of Lúthien's biography, Beren and Lúthien are safe and alive after destroying the walls and breaking open the dungeons of Sauron's stronghold on the Isle of Werewolves. Lúthien and Huan have freed Beren, along with other thralls imprisoned there. Arriving too late to save the life of Finrod Felagund and his brave comrades, Lúthien has used her magic to rescue Beren and drive Sauron in bat form flapping his way back to Angband in bitter humiliation.1
Our power couple then bid farewell to Huan the mighty hound of Valinor, who departs to seek out Celegorm. After so many long years and difficult choices endured with the problematic Celegorm, Huan is still loyal but no longer blind to the faults of his master. Beren and Lúthien, having removed themselves from immediate danger, journey closer to Doriath, allowing themselves a short respite before taking up their quest again in earnest.
Now Beren and Lúthien Tinúviel went free again and together walked through the woods renewing for a time their joy; and though winter came it hurt them not, for flowers lingered where Lúthien went, and the birds sang beneath the snowclad hills.2
Beren, however, cannot rest easy, having given his word to Thingol to perform this impossible task, so he raises the issue of how he intends to pick up the quest again: "Beren took thought of his vow; and against his heart he resolved, when Lúthien was come again within the safety of her own land, to set forth once more."3
Things are heating up for the Fëanorian brothers. Many Elves who had been imprisoned on the isle of Sauron are beginning to drift back home and they have a story to tell, causing a clamor that no new attempts of eloquence on the part of Celegorm can silence:
They lamented bitterly the fall of Felagund their king, saying that a maiden had dared that which the sons of Fëanor had not dared to do; but many perceived that it was treachery rather than fear that had guided Celegorm and Curufin. Therefore the hearts of the people of Nargothrond were released from their dominion, and turned again to the house of Finarfin; and they obeyed Orodreth.4
Celegorm and Curufin are driven out of Nargothrond with the clear warning that they are finished there. In fact, it took some effort on the part of Orodreth to allow them to leave with their lives. He sent them on their way while swearing that there will be "little love between Nargothrond and the sons of Fëanor thereafter."5 Incidentally, this is the moment when Celebrimbor son of Curufin refuses to follow his father and remains behind.
Concurrently with the Fëanorian brothers getting booted out of Nargothrond for good, Beren and Lúthien, back on the trail again, have been arguing over whether or not she will continue on with him or whether, as he wishes, he will drop her off safely inside of the borders of Doriath and go back and get that Silmaril on his own:
But she was not willing to be parted from him again, saying: 'You must choose, Beren, between these two: to relinquish the quest and your oath and seek a life of wandering upon the face of the earth; or to hold to your word and challenge the power of darkness upon its throne. But on either road I shall go with you, and our doom shall be alike.'6
In midst of all the momentous drama of these events, it's not too difficult for anyone who has ever been married or in a close intimate relationship to imagine the scene of Beren and Lúthien having a knock-down-drag-'em-out quarrel while stomping through the woods completely unaware of their surroundings. (One has to chuckle to oneself comparing this scene to the more famous one which Tolkien wrote while remembering his beloved Edith dancing barefoot amongst the flowers in a forest grove in the springtime. I think we get a less romantic but perhaps even more believable view of a realistic argument in the following description of Beren and Lúthien.) Apparently, Beren does not understand her as well as most readers do. For nearly everyone it comes as no great surprise that Lúthien outright refuses to return home to Doriath to await forthcoming news of his mission.
Left behind once, she will never again allow Beren to waltz off to Angband alone. And she is right to want to participate, because she has already proven, to herself at least, that she can draw upon heretofore unfathomed strength and significant paranormal skills. The point is that they disagree strongly. He wants to know that she is home safe and she will not consider the idea of him pursuing this desperate quest alone. Consequently, they are going at it tooth and nail, hard enough that they do not even notice when Celegorm and Curufin spot them and essentially sneak up on them:7
Even as they spoke together of these things, walking without heed of aught else, Celegorm and Curufin rode up, hastening through the forest; and the brothers espied them and knew them from afar. Then Celegorm turned his horse, and spurred it upon Beren, purposing to ride him down; but Curufin swerving stooped and lifted Lúthien to his saddle, for he was a strong and cunning horseman.8
Here, we are treated to a sharply focused visualization of the famous "Leap of Beren . . . renowned among Men and Elves." Beren turns away from the charging Celegorm and leaps onto Curufin's horse and grabs him "by the throat from behind, and they fell to the ground together. The horse reared and fell, but Lúthien was flung aside, and lay upon the grass." Beginning to end, this might be one of the most vivid cinematic-type action sequences in The Silmarillion. At least one might assume that was the intent of the author (he gives the reader advance notice—renowned Leap of Beren indeed!). Once Beren has Curufin on the ground with Lúthien out of the way of immediate harm, he starts beating the living daylights out of the guy. While Beren is distracted, "Celegorm rode upon him with a spear. In that hour Huan forsook the service of Celegorm, and sprang upon him, so that his horse swerved aside, and would not approach Beren because of the terror of the great hound."9 (One can mentally hear the ferocious snarl and growl. This is serious business, but there is no way one could argue with certainty that it is narrated totally without humor.)
Lúthien then intervenes to forbid the slaying of Curufin. Beren, however, does relieve him first of his gear and weapons, including a truly exceptional knife—Angrist, made by the famous Telchar of Nogrod.10 Beren literally picks him up and flings him aside, ordering him to walk back "to his noble kinsfolk, who might teach him to turn his valour to worthier use. 'Your horse,' he said, 'I keep for the service of Lúthien, and it may be accounted happy to be free of such a master.'"11
Celegorm pulls Curufin up onto his horse and makes as though to ride away. Fed up, Beren turns his back on them: "But Curufin, being filled with shame and malice, took the bow of Celegorm and shot back as they went; and the arrow was aimed at Lúthien. Huan leaping caught it in his mouth; but Curufin shot again, and Beren sprang before Lúthien, and the dart smote him in the breast."12
Then the enraged hound Huan takes off after them as they flee in terror before him. Huan returns shortly, bearing with him a healing forest herb, which Lúthien combines with love and curative magic to treat Beren's wound.
Finally, the three of them arrive within the boundaries of Doriath and are able to rest without fear. While Lúthien is sleeping, Beren, still not wanting to expose his beloved to the dangers lying before him, leaves her in the care of Huan and slips off alone into the night.13
One might question his judgment. Together they might succeed but the outcome is far more problematic for either of them alone. Scholar and author Melanie Rawls notes, "Lúthien achieves feats of greatness for love of Beren, just as he is inspired to deeds far beyond the power of mortal men for love of her." Together they may "escape the Curse of the Silmarils because they are prompted in their actions by love for one another, rather than hoard-desire for the Silmarils."14
Clearly he does not get very far without her to help him before he is running low on emotional resources if not determination. He basically decides that he is making one last deliberate, Kamikaze-like assault upon an enemy target, based more upon principle and honor than any concrete hope of success. So, he releases Curufin's horse from "dread and servitude" to "run free upon the green grass in the lands of Sirion."15 Then he sings a parting song, loudly enough for anyone listening to hear, believing, however, there is no one nearby:
Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,
for ever blest, since here did lie
and here with lissom limbs did run
beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,
Lúthien Tinúviel
more fair than mortal tongue can tell.
Though all to ruin fell the world
and were dissolved and backward hurled
unmade into the old abyss,
yet were its making good, for this—
the dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea—
that Lúthien for a time should be.16
Who should appear at the dying notes of his last lonesome song, than Lúthien herself and the trusty Huan? Tolkien scholar Sarah Beach notes that "[o]ften, the traditional Heroine is acted upon rather than initiating action. Also, given whether the tale is heading toward a happy or tragic ending, the Heroine may be a good or a bad influence on the course of the Hero's quest."17 In this tale we are already well aware that Lúthien is no traditional heroine. She is certainly equal to our hero, arguably superior in resourcefulness and skill. And tragic or happy be the end, there is never any question in the reader's mind that Beren and Lúthien's choice will prove to be one that has been made for a greater good.
The deeper one delves into their story, the more one realizes that Beren has his own strengths: personal courage and honor, as well as remarkable skills as a seasoned warrior, but not least of all the courage to love Lúthien and to enter into a collaborative relationship of equals with her. Finally, with no further argument, he gives in gracefully to Lúthien, realizing that he cannot shake her off, nor should he want to. His best judgment persuades him to take the advice of the dog (yes, Huan even does couples' counseling):
Then for the second time Huan spoke with words; and he counselled Beren, saying: 'From the shadow of death you can no longer save Lúthien, for by her love she is now subject to it. You can turn from your fate and lead her into exile, seeking peace in vain while your life lasts. But if you will not deny your doom, then either Lúthien, being forsaken, must assuredly die alone, or she must with you challenge the fate that lies before you—hopeless, yet not certain. Further counsel I cannot give, nor may I go further on your road. But my heart forebodes that what you find at the Gate I shall myself see. All else is dark to me; yet it may be that our three paths lead back to Doriath, and we may meet before the end.'18
Parting with Huan once again—no doubt, regretfully—the intrepid couple set off for Angband. They assume the disguises of bat and werewolf—"he was arrayed now in the hame of Draugluin, and she in the winged fell of Thuringwethil."19 Cami Agan notes in Perilous and Fair that "Lúthien's ability to transform her body and Beren's into fell creatures—Thuringwethil the vampire and the wolf Draugluin—suggests an ironic inversion of Morgoth and Sauron's power to corrupt through bodily perversion."20 The idea and execution of these disguises were said to have been accomplished as result of Huan's counsel and Lúthien's magical arts:
Beren became in all things like a werewolf to look upon, save that in his eyes there shone a spirit grim indeed but clean; and horror was in his glance as he saw upon his flank a bat-like creature clinging with creased wings. Then howling under the moon he leaped down the hill, and the bat wheeled and flittered above him.21
The description of "grim but clean" is one of many references to the wholeness and purity of the heart of Beren that provides an affecting foreshadowing of why the Silmarils will be denied to Maglor and Maedhros after they have sacrificed so much to win them. (The Silmarillion is in part so beloved because its heroes are relatably imperfect while these so-named kinslayers pull at the heartstrings of many readers.) We learn why the Fëanorian claim to their patrimony will be rendered void and their oath will have been kept in vain because of their many and merciless deeds performed while they were blinded by their oath, a relationship to the Silmaril they seek that differs markedly from Beren and Lúthien's.
In the actions of Curufin and Celegorm throughout this tale, we can observe how corrupted they have already become. But that is another topic for another time. Perhaps in Beren's upcoming biography we can examine more about how the Oath becoming dynamic determined the course of his life and his choices (or more likely vice versa—can we blame Thingol?). One could discuss the personification of the Oath—the concept of how the Oath sleeps or the Oath awakens—which is relevant throughout this quest. The point for here and now is that once the Oath has awakened it pushes this story inexorably forward.
Meanwhile, returning to the main narrative, we find the foul-appearing but fair Beren and Lúthien wending their way across the countryside to meet the Dark Vala in his own stronghold. At last they enter into the noxious and terrifying landscape that makes up the approach to the Gates of Angband:
Black chasms opened beside the road, whence forms as of writhing serpents issued. On either hand the cliffs stood as embattled walls, and upon them sat carrion fowl crying with fell voices. Before them was the impregnable Gate, an arch wide and dark at the foot of the mountain; above it reared a thousand feet of precipice.22
They made it through all that only to encounter a terrible monster. Jeff LaSala draws on a comparison with Classical myth at this point in the tale: "But here our heroes are stopped in their tracks when they see a creature guarding the gate like Cerberus at the gates of Hades."23 Morgoth, with his side having been thwarted once already by the combination of Lúthien and Huan and not knowing if or when he will be confronted again by the great hound, has taken into consideration the rumor that Huan can only be killed by the greatest wolf that ever lived and decides to breed exactly such a creature:
Morgoth recalled the doom of Huan, and he chose one from among the whelps of the race of Draugluin; and he fed him with his own hand upon living flesh, and put his power upon him. Swiftly the wolf grew, until he could creep into no den, but lay huge and hungry before the feet of Morgoth. There the fire and anguish of hell entered into him, and he became filled with a devouring spirit, tormented, terrible, and strong. Carcharoth, the Red Maw, he is named in the tales of those days, and Anfauglir, the Jaws of Thirst. And Morgoth set him to lie unsleeping before the doors of Angband, lest Huan come.24
The ease with which Lúthien's magic is able to overcome this terrible beast—the terrible Red Maw and Jaws of thirst!—is almost anticlimactic. That is, it might have been, were it not for the acknowledgement of the source of her power and how unique it is. One needs to remember she is only half-Elven and the other half, in ordinary parlance, is divine. This is not simple Elven wisdom and skill combined to create something special which resembles the magical to the likes of us, but something far stronger and more profound:
But suddenly some power, descended from of old from divine race, possessed Lúthien, and casting back her foul raiment she stood forth, small before the might of Carcharoth, but radiant and terrible. Lifting up her hand she commanded him to sleep, saying: 'O woe-begotten spirit, fall now into dark oblivion, and forget for a while the dreadful doom of life.' And Carcharoth was felled, as though lightning had smitten him.25
Morgoth's intent when he prepared for their coming was to, in short order, capture and kill them both. But, although he was concerned about Huan and made a plan, he completely underestimated Lúthien. Beren and Lúthien are able to pass through the Gate and down the labyrinthine stairs to the lowest level, where they would find Morgoth's throne. As The Silmarillion describes it, they "together wrought the greatest deed that has been dared by Elves or Men."26
The terrible hall they entered is "lit by fire and upheld by horror"—strong language. And it was "filled with weapons of death and torment." Well, Lúthien has balls of steel and is able to enter without turning into a mindless puddle of fear but, assuming some of the servile spirit of his lowly form, poor "Beren slunk in wolf's form beneath his throne." (This was just as well, because he goes unnoticed for the moment while Lúthien prepares herself for a faceoff with the Dark Lord.) Despite the fact that Morgoth strips Lúthien of her disguise in short order and "bent his gaze upon her. She was not daunted by his eyes; and she named her own name, and offered her service to sing before him, after the manner of a minstrel."27
Now the story gets dark really fast and fairly explicitly so (disturbing sexual imagery anyone?). One's mileage may vary on how truly dark it is but when Morgoth looks upon her beauty and is overcome by an "evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor," one might wonder how much intent on Lúthien's part might have been involved in using his fascination with her beauty against him. Tolkien says, "Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for a while, and taking secret pleasure in his thought" (emphasis added)28 But who actually is the horse and who is the rider in this instance? Cami Agan forthrightly pursues this line of speculation and answers that it is Lúthien who takes control:
[S]he powerfully meets Morgoth's eye and offers him what he has desired: the possession of her body, identity, and song. We might also read the self-declaration and proposal of performance as a kind of concealed exchange or even as spell; Lúthien appears to offer "service" out of a position of weakness—and this is what Morgoth "sees"—when in reality she has worked through his bodily desire to create a space and time wherein she might take mastery of Angband.29
Lúthien here is not a delicate little violet; she is a strong woman and aware of all of her powers. She is conscious of his rare recognition of his own physical desire and exploits and uses it as a weapon against him. When she has thoroughly enthralled him, she suddenly disappears from his gaze and
out of the shadows began a song of such surpassing loveliness, and of such blinding power, that he listened perforce; and a blindness came upon him, as his eyes roamed to and fro, seeking her. All his court were cast down in slumber, and all the fires faded and were quenched; but the Silmarils in the crown on Morgoth's head blazed . . . .30
Through the enchantment of her song Lúthien is able to hold the entire court in a sleeping trance. And the Dark Valar himself is ensnared within "a dream, dark as the Outer Void where once he walked alone. Suddenly he fell, as a hill sliding in avalanche, and hurled like thunder from his throne lay prone upon the floors of hell. The iron crown rolled echoing from his head. All things were still."31
The fascinating thing about Lúthien is, although she outsmarts him, she does it by allowing him to defeat himself. She does not out-evil him; her insight permits her to disarm him and let his own malice do the job for her:
Lúthien's exhibition in Morgoth's throne room provides critical insight into the operation of her power, which is predicated on her own inherent goodness, grace, purity, and beauty. Her power inspires virtue in characters like Beren or the mighty wolf hound Huan, and disarms the intentions of wicked characters, rendering fearsome opponents from Sauron to Carcharoth to Morgoth and his entire court powerless. Lúthien's power, in fact, causes evil to founder on its own intentions: as Tolkien informs the reader, Morgoth failed to stop Lúthien and Beren from taking a Silmaril because "he [Morgoth] was beguiled by his own malice" (180).32
Beren in his wolf form falls asleep along with Morgoth and all of his fell beasts and minions. But Lúthien hurries to awaken him, having no idea how much time they might have to take care of their business.
The reader may recall the knife Angrist that Beren lifted from Curufin. Turns out it is hard enough to free a Silmaril from Morgoth's fearsome iron crown, but not enough to pry two loose. It breaks on the second Silmaril but, no matter, Beren only needs one. Scrambling to get out of the throne room before everyone wakes up, they reach the front gates again only to encounter Carcharoth awake, aware, and barring their escape. Lúthien, however, despite all of her magical resources is not indefatigable. Holding Morgoth and his entire court under her spell has drained her of all of her strength, and she is completely incapable of engaging in any further struggle against the monstrosity of a werewolf. She must leave this fight entirely in the hands of Beren. Without the aid of Lúthien, Beren must think fast and holds up the hallowed jewel to ward off the beast:
Lúthien was spent, and she had not time nor strength to quell the wolf. But Beren strode forth before her, and in his right hand he held aloft the Silmaril. Carcharoth halted, and for a moment was afraid. 'Get you gone, and fly!' cried Beren; 'for here is a fire that shall consume you, and all evil things.' And he thrust the Silmaril before the eyes of the wolf.33
But the ravening beast, mad with the devouring spirit that has been bred into him, cannot be stopped even by the unadulterated light of that sacred jewel. Undaunted, he leaps forward and snaps off Beren's hand at the wrist, Silmaril and all. However, because the Silmarils are hallowed stone, blessed by Varda, they will not bear the touch of any unclean flesh. The beast's entrails are set afire from within, and he charges off to the south, howling in excruciating pain. Carcharoth launches a rampage of terror crossing over the border into Menegroth heading in the direction of Doriath:
So terrible did he become in his madness that all the creatures of Morgoth that abode in that valley, or were upon any of the roads that led thither, fled far away; for he slew all living things that stood in his path, and burst from the North with ruin upon the world. Of all the terrors that came ever into Beleriand ere Angband's fall the madness of Carcharoth was the most dreadful; for the power of the Silmaril was hidden within him.34
Lúthien is left holding Beren in her arms, unconscious and at the point of death. Her powers have been depleted almost to the point of nonexistence: "Thus the quest of the Silmaril was like to have ended in ruin and despair; but in that hour above the wall of the valley three mighty birds appeared, flying northward with wings swifter than the wind." You guessed it! The Eagles are coming! As well they should be—Lúthien has earned this deus ex machina: "High above the realm of Morgoth Thorondor and his vassals soared, and seeing now the madness of the Wolf and Beren's fall they came swiftly down, even as the powers of Angband were released from the toils of sleep."35
The Eagles return them to the exact spot where Beren set off alone without Lúthien:
There the eagles laid her at Beren's side and returned to the peaks of Crissaegrim and their high eyries; but Huan came to her, and together they tended Beren, even as before when she healed him of the wound that Curufin gave to him. But this wound was fell and poisonous. Long Beren lay, and his spirit wandered upon the dark borders of death, knowing ever an anguish that pursued him from dream to dream. Then suddenly, when her hope was almost spent, he woke again, and looked up, seeing leaves against the sky; and he heard beneath the leaves singing soft and slow beside him Lúthien Tinúviel. And it was spring again.36
Relieved to be alive and badly in need of rest, the trio is not in a great rush to move. But it is Beren again who most craves a sense of resolution. He does not fancy Lúthien living on-the-lam so to speak:
[I]t seemed also to him unfit that one so royal and fair as Lúthien should live always in the woods, as the rude hunters among Men, without home or honour or the fair things which are the delight of the queens of the Eldalië. Therefore after a while he persuaded her, and their footsteps forsook the houseless lands; and he passed into Doriath, leading Lúthien home. So their doom willed it.37
He still, of course, remembered his words to Thingol and is anxious to report that he, in fact, has carried out his quest to its end.
In the meantime, Carcharoth, the Wolf of Angband, still runs "ravening from the north, and passing at length over Taur-nu-Fuin upon its eastern side he came down from the sources of Esgalduin like a destroying fire."38 Thingol's messengers encounter news of Carcharoth's rampaging reign of blood and terror when they go abroad from Menegroth to try to find word of Lúthien. Thingol has gone so far as to try to send a request to the sons of Fëanor to ask them to help him find his daughter, whom Celegorm has been wholly unable to protect and yet who has not returned home. This situation greets Beren and Lúthien when they enter Menegroth: "Even in that dark hour Beren and Lúthien returned, hastening from the west, and the news of their coming went before them like a sound of music borne by the wind into dark houses where men sit sorrowful."39
The joy and relief that their return engenders does not dissuade Thingol from immediately demanding a report from Beren on the outcome of his quest:
. . . Beren knelt before him, and said: 'I return according to my word. I am come now to claim my own.'
And Thingol answered: 'What of your quest, and of your vow?'
But Beren said: 'It is fulfilled. Even now a Silmaril is in my hand.'
Then Thingol said: 'Show it to me!'
And Beren put forth his left hand, slowly opening its fingers; but it was empty. Then he held up his right arm; and from that hour he named himself Camlost, the Empty-handed.
Then Thingol's mood was softened; and Beren sat before his throne upon the left, and Lúthien upon the right, and they told all the tale of the Quest, while all there listened and were filled with amazement.40
At last Thingol gives the hand of his daughter to Beren willingly:
And it seemed to Thingol that this Man was unlike all other mortal Men, and among the great in Arda, and the love of Lúthien a thing new and strange; and he perceived that their doom might not be withstood by any power of the world. Therefore at the last he yielded his will, and Beren took the hand of Lúthien before the throne of her father.41
But the joy of the moment, however, could not endure as long as the threat of Carcharoth's bloodthirsty marauding hangs over Thingol's land, people, and Menegroth itself.
Determined to protect Doriath, Thingol, Beren, Mablung, and Beleg Cúthalion organize what becomes known in all of the legends and histories as the Great Hunt for the Wolf. Huan joins in, successfully tracking Carcharoth.
It is irresistible to lift language from Jeff LaSala again here because it is both economic and vivid: "Beren jumps in the way, saving his new father-in-law, and gets mauled horribly by Carcharoth . . . the wolf is tackled by Huan and the two engage in a titanic final battle that churns the earth and 'choked the falls' of the river itself."42 Beren acquires his mortal wound in the act of bringing down Carcharoth. Huan continues to fight the wolf to the death, almost certainly knowing that this will be his last act. The reader has been repeatedly warned of the prophecy that Huan can only be killed by the greatest wolf that has even lived. When Huan at last prevails over this massive werewolf, it is only after he has been mortally poisoned in the process.
Huan's third and last use of his ability to speak is expended in bidding good-bye to Beren before dying:
Huan in that hour slew Carcharoth; but there in the woven woods of Doriath his own doom long spoken was fulfilled, and he was wounded mortally, and the venom of Morgoth entered into him. Then he came, and falling beside Beren spoke for the third time with words; and he bade Beren farewell before he died. Beren spoke not, but laid his hand upon the head of the hound, and so they parted.43
Mablung, the captain of Thingol's security forces, cuts open the wolf and finds the fire of the Silmaril has consumed most of the entrails of the beast and
lay there unveiled, and the light of it filled the shadows of the forest all about them. Then quickly and in fear Mablung took it and set it in Beren's living hand; and Beren was aroused by the touch of the Silmaril, and held it aloft, and bade Thingol receive it. 'Now is the Quest achieved,' he said, 'and my doom full-wrought'; and he spoke no more.44
After nightfall, the hunting party returns to Menegroth, bearing the body of Huan and the grievously wounded Beren, victorious but weighed down with grief at the tremendous cost of the venture. The monstrous wolf has been slain and the Silmaril recovered, but Huan is gone and Beren will soon succumb to fatal wounds. As soon as Lúthien hears, she begins to waste from grief. But even still she will not give up easily:
There she set her arms about Beren, and kissed him, bidding him await her beyond the Western Sea; and he looked upon her eyes ere the spirit left him. But the starlight was quenched and darkness had fallen even upon Lúthien Tinúviel. Thus ended the Quest of the Silmaril; but the Lay of Leithian, Release from Bondage, does not end.45
There will be more to their story.
Meanwhile, this may be a good place to pause and note that Lúthien did far more to achieve the quest of the Silmaril than even Beren, "urging him on when he was ready to abandon it rather than put her at risk."46 She could be called Tolkien's only true superhero—a warrior in spirit embodied in the person of a magical fairy-princess. She was not a builder of great cities nor a skilled administrator and leader. She had none of Galadriel's ambitions to rule a land of her own. Yet her supernatural attributes—superpowers—are obvious:
As the child of Melian the Maia, Lúthien's significant powers allow her to pursue a heroic purpose that even Galadriel's narrative does not match, but equally powerful are the episodes wherein Lúthien acts as a physical and (potentially) sexual agent not only to alter her personal narrative, but also to act against annihilating forces and thus reframe the larger Story of Middle-earth.47
Tolkien writes of Lúthien in a letter to publisher Milton Waldman:
As such the story is (I think a beautiful and powerful) heroic-fairy-romance . . . . also a fundamental link in the cycle, deprived of its full significance out of its place therein. For the capture of the Silmaril, a supreme victory, leads to disaster. The oath of the sons of Fëanor becomes operative, and lust for the Silmaril brings all the kingdoms of the Elves to ruin.48
Lúthien herself is unable to save that world, but she will provide the means for others to do exactly that. The task will be left to her descendants, who will play a significant role in all of the coming struggles, defeats, interim triumphs, until, at last, we reach the final victory (eucatastrophe) at the end of The Lord of the Rings.
Tolkien placed great importance in his legendarium on the half-Elven in his histories, the connection between the Eldar and the Edain through the line of the Peredhil that dates back to Beren and Lúthien:
Immortality and Mortality being the special gifts of God to the Eruhíni49 (in whose conception and creation the Valar had no part at all) it must be assumed that no alteration of their fundamental kind could be effected by the Valar even in one case: the cases of Lúthien (and Túor) and the position of their descendants was a direct act of God. The entering into Men of the Elven-strain is indeed represented as part of a Divine Plan for the ennoblement of the Human Race, from the beginning destined to replace the Elves.50
This Peredhil line is formed of the union between the descendants of Beren and Lúthien and another Mortal/Elven marriage between Tuor of the House of Hador and Idril, daughter of King Turgon of Gondolin. But in order for this most important lineage to be formed, Beren will have to survive in order for him and Lúthien to bear children.
But if anyone could challenge the complex and immutable principles of Immortality and Mortality relating to Men and Elves in Tolkien's legendarium and reach a compromise, of course, it would be Lúthien.
Upon a first-time read of the scene in the halls of Mandos, when Lúthien sings of the striving and sorrow, efforts and sacrifices, and of the love and loss that she and Beren have experienced, and actually is able to move Námo the Lord of the Dead to pity, it seems an almost more surprising victory than her enchantment cast over Morgoth: "The song of Lúthien before Mandos was the song most fair that ever in words was woven, and the song most sorrowful that ever the world shall hear."51 But Lúthien is a remarkable woman—her combination of decency, valor, passion, and sentiment take her a long way:
Lúthien wove two themes of words, of the sorrow of the Eldar and the grief of Men, of the Two Kindreds that were made by Ilúvatar to dwell in Arda, the Kingdom of Earth amid the innumerable stars. And as she knelt before him her tears fell upon his feet like rain upon the stones; and Mandos was moved to pity, who never before was so moved, nor has been since.52
Námo himself is unable to offer a solution, for he cannot alter the rules that separate the Eldar and Men after death. Beren can only wait for a short moment before being sent onto whatever location or state of being that is the fate of Mortal Man after death, a place where Lúthien is not permitted to follow. But being so moved by Lúthien's tale and her expression of it in song, Námo chooses to consult with Manwë, who, no more than Námo, can change the fates of Elves and Men but does have access to the mind of the One (Ilúvatar) who, should he choose to take note of him, could consider Manwë's dilemma and offer guidance: "He [Námo] went therefore to Manwë, Lord of the Valar, who governed the world under the hand of Ilúvatar; and Manwë sought counsel in his inmost thought, where the will of Ilúvatar was revealed."53
So, Námo, through Manwë's interpretation of the mind of the One, is able to offer Lúthien two choices. First, she can be released from the halls of Mandos and go to Valimar and live "until the world's end among the Valar, forgetting all griefs that her life had known"-- without Beren. Or, secondly--and one can imagine from what we have learned of Lúthien that this choice was a no-brainer for her--she can return to Middle-earth with Beren. There they would live again "but without certitude of life or joy. Then she would become mortal, and subject to a second death, even as he; and ere long she would leave the world for ever, and her beauty become only a memory in song."54
Lúthien accepts that second choice—to return to Middle-earth to live out a mortal life with Beren with no guarantee of comfort or even long life. Beren does go out to battle one last time, which is a longish and somewhat complicated story and does not really involve Lúthien at all, so it seems logical to save that tale for Beren's biography. He does return from that encounter with the Silmaril that he once pried from Morgoth's crown and presents it to Lúthien, who is said to have worn it until she and Beren eventually die of old age. So, in fact, they do largely live out their life in happiness for a time on the green island of Tol Galen in the River Adurant. A son Dior is born to them, who will in time become Thingol's heir and eventually hold in his possession the Silmaril, which will bring about his doom. His fate, although it seems tragic at the time, will lead to hope for Middle-earth, and that story most readers know much better than Dior's own or even that of Beren and Lúthien. The doom that Lúthien chose,
forsaking the Blessed Realm, and putting aside all claim to kinship with those that dwell there; that thus whatever grief might lie in wait, the fates of Beren and Lúthien might be joined, and their paths lead together beyond the confines of the world. So it was that alone of the Eldalië she has died indeed, and left the world long ago. Yet in her choice the Two Kindreds have been joined; and she is the forerunner of many in whom the Eldar see yet, though all the world is changed, the likeness of Lúthien the beloved, whom they have lost.55
In the Guardian article heralding the 2017 publication of Christopher Tolkien's stand-alone edition of Beren and Lúthien, the reviewer notes that
I should also add that though everything that is included in this book has been published elsewhere – I point readers in particular towards The Silmarillion, the Lost Tales, the Lay of Leithian and the Quenta Noldorinwa – this is the first time, and almost certainly the last, that anyone has tried to extract the story of Beren and Lúthien into a single coherent whole and explain how the narrative developed.56
When we have published biographies in the past, a feature of many of them has been the consideration of abandoned or rejected earlier parts of the narrative. These often consist of name changes and moderately significant late additions or deletions of early elements but nowhere are these more thorough-going, or one could even say less connected, to the final coherent narrative than the disparate parts of Lúthien's story.
In fact, there is no single definitive text of the story of Beren and Lúthien. Like so many of Tolkien's important storylines, it has been woven together by Christopher Tolkien to form his 1977 edition of The Silmarillion. Lúthien's story remained unfinished at the time of Tolkien's death. The closest to a complete telling of the Beren and Lúthien story would be the prose version cobbled together by Christopher Tolkien in the published Silmarillion with the assistance of Guy Gavriel Kay, a philosophy student at the time, who went on to become a recognized fantasy writer himself. The earliest draft of the tale of Beren and Lúthien dates back to World War I. Tolkien notes that "during sick leave from the army in 1917" he wrote The Fall of Gondolin and later that same year the Tale of Lúthien Tinúviel and Beren.57
When discussing his reasons near the end of his life for wanting to put the name "Lúthien" on his wife's gravestone, Tolkien writes to Christopher of his initial inspiration for the story of Beren and Lúthien.
We do know from a much circulated photo taken in her youth, assuming it is a good likeness--and there is no reason not to believe it is--that Edith Tolkien, like Lúthien, was beautiful. This is not merely the fanciful exaggeration of a young man in love. The physical description of Lúthien in The Lay of Leithian is not dissimilar to Tolkien's romantic description of Edith near the end of his life. He tells us in The Lay that:
Her robe was blue as summer skies,
but grey as evening were her eyes;
her mantle sewn with lilies fair,
but dark as shadow was her hair.
Her feet were swift as bird on wing,
her laughter merry as the spring;
the slender willow the bowing reed,
the fragrance of a flowering mead,
the light upon the leaves of trees,
the voice of water, more than these
her beauty was and blissfulness,
her glory and her loveliness.58
He describes to his son Christopher in a poignant, rather hopeful and apprehensive, letter explaining what he wants on Edith's gravestone and why. And in this letter he describes Edith as she was when she first inspired Lúthien:
I never called Edith Lúthien – but she was the source of the story that in time became the chief part of the Silmarillion. It was first conceived in a small woodland glade filled with hemlocks at Roos in Yorkshire (where I was for a brief time in command of an outpost of the Humber Garrison in 1917, and she was able to live with me for a while). In those days her hair was raven, her skin clear, her eyes brighter than you have seen them, and she could sing – and dance.59
Edith had significant musical ability, with aspirations to become a concert pianist, and a great love of dancing.60 One wonders as one reads of Lúthien and Beren on that quest to take a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown if there could be a certain division of labor in that couple that Tolkien might have thought in some way mirrored his own relationship. Beren is motivated and inspired, unwilling to give up on what at points seems like an almost foolish venture. But Lúthien enables. She provides the practical circumstances (although they are based in magic!) within which he can reach his goal. Nobody in my generation wants to be that wife, unless she can do it like Lúthien.
One can choose one's own favorite version of Beren and Lúthien if we sit down and determine to read all of the primary sources from which Christopher Tolkien constructed Chapter 19 of The Silmarillion (only circa 10,000 words but containing enough sheer content to fill up an epic novel). Like many chapters in The Silmarillion, it uses what almost seems at points like an expanded outline form although, with many beautiful flourishes of word choice and cadence.
Some people prefer the youthful and at times almost rollicking nonsense tone of The Book of Lost Tales version. It's problematic for many when trying to construct a coherent narrative of Beren and Lúthien's adventures in that major aspects do not fit. For example, Beren is a Gnome (a what? one of the Noldoli, of course, or known to most of us as Noldor) and not a mortal man. Lúthien is called Tinuviel (without the accent)—not so difficult if one is working backward from latest texts to earliest as most readers are. This tale is where one encounters the infamous Prince of Cats. John Garth notes in a review of Christopher Tolkien's 2017 compilation Beren and Lúthien in The New Statesman that
There is much to relish, even for those who have read The Silmarillion. Of all the 1916-19 "Lost Tales", this one changed most. The early version, doubtless written for Edith, is a rollicking fairy tale crossed with a kind of "Just So Story" about why cats fear dogs; yet in its latter stages it steps up several gears and attains a mythic power.61
Whereas some people might like the shenanigans of Telvido the Prince of Cats (much later Sauron) and Beren the gnome captured and imprisoned as his servant for its children's tale quality, others reading it for the first time after encountering The Silmarillion might find it a true step backwards. In another review of Christopher Tolkien's 2017 volume, Katherine Neville, a true fan of The Book of Lost Tales, opines that
[t]his portion is one of the loveliest of the book, for 'The Tale of Tinuviel' is a "single and well-defined narrative," one which reads like a true fairy tale. There are spells of enchantment and an escape from a high prison through magically long hair; our hero Beren is a great hunter and bold trickster who is forced to become a scullery maid before being rescued by his true love and her faithful talking dog.62
Whereas some readers fall in love with the magnificent detail of The Lay of Leithian, but find its more archaic language difficult, others find it atmospheric and that it adds to the spell. The Lay is unfinished (always a drawback), but contains details that exist nowhere else and did not make it into The Silmarillion either. That is where one finds the famous song duel between Finrod and Sauron. Others will be quick to point out that, in this version, Lúthien actually dances in her bat-wing suit before the throne of Morgoth:
But Lúthien hath cunning arts
for solace sweet of kingly hearts.
Now hearken!' And her wings she caught
then deftly up, and swift as thought
slipped from his grasp, and wheeling round,
fluttering before his eyes, she wound
a mazy-wingéd dance, and sped
about his iron-crownéd head.63
The Lay also contains a gentler, much more detailed, and more elegant version of the argument discussed above between Beren and Lúthien on the trail about whether she should continue as a companion in his quest. Whether one finds rhyming couplets the best and most legitimate way of receiving such an elegiac and inspiring tale or would prefer prose, the fact that The Lay of Leithian contains priceless elements found nowhere else makes it required reading if one would fully appreciate the account of Beren and Lúthien, what one could call the most central and far-reaching tale in his legendarium.
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