A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
Nerdanel finally finishes her work for Finwë's family. What a relief.
It took me the better part of summer to finish my sculpture, even though I worked almost ceaselessly. Following my conversation with Queen Indis, I took care to eat dinner at home once in the week, but I was always eager to leave again. My parents, I was sure, understood - after all, they were craftsfolk themselves – but I still felt guilty. I just couldn't resist the urge to return to my work for long. I observed myself closely, curious whether at some point my enthusiasm would falter, but that never happened. Instead, I dreaded the day when my work would be done.
Yet that day came - brought about all the sooner by my feverish working, of course. I should have been relieved to have finished my grand project. I should have been happy to return home and pick up the life I had virtually abandoned. I told myself that I was; but stronger than relief or happiness was the strange empty feeling in the mental place that had been occupied with my work. I would miss it. I realised that it was more than the usual wistfulness at the end of a project, that it was something deeper, something defining. Of course there would be other projects – better ones, possibly! - but I suspected that nothing would ever compare to the anxiety and excitement of a first commission, in the way that no journey could repeat the thrill of one's very first travelling experience, or in the way it was said that no measure of intimacy could ever compare to one's first true kiss (although I felt that people made altogether too much fuss about romance).
And then there was something else that made me feel downhearted rather than proud when I looked at my sculpture: I would have to face judgement now.
I was not afraid of Aulë's assessment, I realised with some surprise. I was normally quick to be dissatisfied with my work, but this time, I was content – not only that I had done my best, but that my best was truly good. I had done the king's children justice and copied their features perfectly. Moreover, I felt that I had captured their spirit – Princess Írimë's exuberance, Princess Findis' mature and caring nature, Prince Fëanáro's arrogant beauty – and depicted them in a lifelike and dynamic scene. Although my chisel had slipped a few times, there was no lasting damage done – there were no noticeable flaws anywhere. I could have been proud. There was no doubt that I would be allowed to stand the exams.
What I was doubtful about, and what ruined my enjoyment of my finished sculpture, was the contest with Master Alcaráco. What would the consequences be? Without having seen Master Alcaráco's sculpture, I was nonetheless fairly certain that I had a good change of winning. If the king decided that Master Alcaráco had fulfilled his expectations more closely (as was perfectly possible: Master Alcaráco was a seasoned sculptor and faithful to tradition), I knew I would be disappointed. But if King Finwë actually did prefer my work, I would likely not be happy, either. From Master Alcaráco's behaviour so far, I was very much afraid that he would never accept defeat gracefully, but rather use any chance to punish me. And there was nothing I could do about it.
No wonder that I hesitated to declare my project finished! As long as I could hide in Prince Fëanáro's study, the future was blissfully unwritten. Still, I could not put it off forever. In fact, after three days I realised that I was playing into Master Alcaráco's hand by making everyone think that I needed more time. There had been no deadline, but everybody had noticed that I was working pretty much incessantly. If, in spite of that, I let yet another week pass, it would make me look like a very slow worker indeed.
So I gathered my courage, and attended the king's dinner, and announced that I had completed my commission. And the next morning, my sculpture was carefully lowered onto the broad terrace in front of the palace, where Master Alcaráco's work had been carted the day before.
„Impressive,“ Master Alcaráco said with an oily smile while I anxiously watched the pulley being worked, terrified that a rope would break and cast my precious sculpture down onto the pavement. „I completed my own work only two days earlier than you did. Not bad, not bad at all!“
I could have kicked myself.
Master Alcaráco's sculpture was worthy of a master craftsman. From a technical perspective, I could not fault it, though it was lacking in originality. He had worked out the children's features and the elaborate details of their clothing perfectly; he had imitated the different textures of skin and hair, cloth and jewellery as well as was possible in marble. I wasn't surprised, of course. I wouldn't have expected anything less, and I really wished Master Alcaráco didn't act so astonished in his turn while he examined my work. He took his time checking all the spots where insecure or unexperienced sculptors might be unable to achieve perfection, or where even experienced sculptors might cheat because no ordinary observer would notice. The longer he took, the more anxiously I watched. Had I overlooked something after all? Had I been deceiving myself? But the fact that Master Alcaráco said no word suggested that he couldn't find anything amiss, no matter how much he peeked into the shadows and hidden nooks.
Master Alcaráco wasn't the only one who kept silent. King Finwë was lost in the contemplation of our sculptures as well. He walked around mine; he walked around Master Alcaráco's. And again. And again. He stood back; he rocked from the balls of his feet to his heels; he paced around the sculptures again. Someone was snickering. Prince Fëanáro was whispering to Wintillo. Princess Findis gave me an encouraging smile. Some of the other courtiers were looking less friendly. Curious onlookers were ascending the stairs to find out what was going on, too – our little friendly contest was getting quite the audience. I tried not to fidget under the cursory glances and open stares, a task made harder when Master Alcaráco abandoned his attempts to find mistakes or shortcuts and came to stand by my side.
„You must be very pleased with yourself,“ he hissed unter breath.
„Should I be?“ I asked as innocently as I could, and received no answer.
To be honest, part of me was really pleased. For once, I did not doubt my work at all. It was a strange feeling – I was normally among my harshest critics – but it felt good, almost exhilarating. Yes, I was pleased with what I had accomplished. I genuinely felt that I deserved to win. My sculpture was as well executed as Master Alcaráco's, and more inspired. The more King Finwë examined our sculptures without giving an opinion, the more convinced I became that he, too, preferred my work. If only he had finally said something!
When at last he came over to speak with me, however, his expression was stony. „Well. That's quite the quandary you've put us in.“
I felt as though he had poured a bucket full of ice-cold water over my head. Gone was the kind and jovial man who had laughed at my witty replies at the dinner-table, replaced by a stern and rather intimidating king. I felt a lump rise in my throat. I wasn't certain whether it was fear, or rather anger. I hadn't done anything wrong, after all!
I decided to say so. „I don't know what you mean, my lord.“
The king looked at the gathered audience, at Master Alcaráco, then back at me. „A young apprentice cannot outdo a seasoned master.“ As you just have was the unspoken addendum.
My competitor didn't protest or show surprise in any way. He said nothing. He had expected this. He knew that he was beaten. I could barely contain the triumph that filled my heart, despite the circumstances. I had won! The thought was so intensely sweet that I could taste it on my tongue. My exam piece was better than the sculpture made by an experienced Master. The King had acknowledged it. Master Alcaráco knew it. I could barely breathe for excitement.
Then I returned to my senses. Master Alcaráco was furious. He was silent, staring ahead with hard, cold eyes, but I knew that he would not hold his peace forever. I could practically feel the anger he was exuding. The king, too, was angry. As I thought about what he had said, I began to see why. As the judge of this contest, it was his duty to crown the person who had delivered the better sculpture the winner. As the king of the Noldor, he had to uphold the social order. If an apprentice bested a master, albeit in a friendly contest, then who was to say that servants ought to obey their masters? Who was to say that Elves could not rise against Valar? The king was right. It was a quandary, and he would have to solve it.
Maybe I could help. I did not want to be trouble for anyone. I had my exam piece. I had even tasted victory, for a brief moment. That was enough, really. If by yielding my victory to Master Alcaráco I could win back the king's good humour, it was worth it.
„I know,“ I heard myself say.
„Explain yourself!“ King Finwë said sharply, turning upon me as if to bear me down with the weight of his gaze. For a second, I was terrified. But then the king's posture and face softened. „Please explain.“
I took a deep breath. I could not explain openly what I meant to do, since that would have meant acknowledging that I was the victor, which we could not do. So I acted as if I took the king's statement literally. „I know that an apprentice cannot outdo a master, my lord. I never expected to. I did my best, but of course it cannot measure up to Master Alcaráco's work. I accept that, with goodwill.“
Master Alcaráco gasped, turning to give me an incredulous stare. There was a hum among the onlookers. Prince Fëanáro was shaking his head vigorously. The king studied me with a frown on his face.
Did he believe me? Hardly. I had tried to say my piece as though I believed it, but the king surely saw through my protested modesty. I could see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he ground his teeth. He did not know what to do. The situation was beginning to get awkward. The audience was awaiting a decision. In fact, the audience had probably figured out who had won, simply because Master Alcaráco was not crowned winner yet.
Queen Indis came to our rescue. She walked briskly to her husband and whispered into his ear, and I could see the king's features relax. „Yes,“ he said softly. „That is true.“ And then, at last, he smiled.
„I cannot make a decision,“ he announced. „These sculptures are too different to compare. Both are, in their own way, perfect. One,“ he gestured at Master Alcaráco's work, „depicts all that is great about our culture – our sophistication, our traditions, our pride. The other,“ now it was my sculpture's turn, „depicts my children as they are – young, carefree and full of life. I love them both. I will not choose one over the other, and I trust you will not make me.“
It could have been a rhetoric question, yet he paused, looking from Master Alcaráco to me. „Of course not, my lord,“ I said. Master Alcaráco took a little longer to open his clenched jaw. „No, my king,“ he eventually said.
King Finwë's smile grew broader. „You will both be honoured, of course. My beloved queen had an excellent idea. When I first envisioned a sculpture of my children, I wanted to have it placed in the marketplace. This shall be done – with Alcaráco's statue. It shows the princes and princesses of the Noldor in their splendour, and will fit well in a public space where all will see it.“ Prince Fëanáro, on the other hand, was looking as though he was trying to drill a hole into the back of his father's head with his eyes. He caught my glance and shook his head again, pointing at me and mimicking speech, telling me to protest. I ignored him, returning my attention to the king.
„Nerdanel's sculpture is too intimate for such public display,“ he continued. „It will forever remind me of the children I had, even when they have grown into adulthood. I will keep it in my house, where I cannot forever keep my children. It may be a less prestigious place, but I hope you will not resent it.“ Was I imagining the pleading quality to his gaze? There was no need to plead or hope. I was perfectly happy to have created a sculpture for the king's private rooms. I said so. Then I glanced at Queen Indis, giving her a grateful smile.
„This, then, is my judgement,“ the king finished his speech. „I hope you will find it just.“
„Well and wise,“ a mighty voice boomed over the polite applause that greeted the king's decision, and Aulë came marching towards us through the crowd. People made way for him hurriedly. Some looked worried or disturbed, but most of them appeared delighted at what promised to make an already entertaining spectacle even more interesting.
„Lord Aulë,“ the king said when the Vala had joined us on the terrace. „You do not object to my decision, I hope?“
Aulë smiled. „That's none of my business. They're your sculptures and it's your choice. I am merely here to determine whether young Nerdanel has delivered. Ah, yes. Excellent vision and execution. I expected no less. Well done, Nerdanel.“
„Thank you, my lord.“ It did me well to finally receive some unadulterated praise.
Aulë turned to Master Alcaráco, still beaming broadly. „You're a fellow sculptor, Alcaráco – what do you think?“
Master Alcaráco needed quite a bit of time for thinking. „The girl is undoubtedly talented,“ he eventually managed.
„Isn't she just!“ Aulë said merrily. I wondered whether he was ignoring Master Alcaráco's bad mood on purpose or whether he was genuinely oblivious to it. Unbidden, my memory provided Prince Fëanáro's words about Aulë: He has limitations that are alien to us. Perhaps understanding our irrational moods was one such limitation?
„Well, that's settled then!“ Aulë cheerfully concluded. „Shall we have her theoretical exam on the first day of Yavië*, then?“ Important, life-changing events were traditionally held at the turning of the seasons. It was considered fortuitious; the impetus of the new season could thus be taken into the new stage of life.
„If you say so, Lord Aulë,“ said Master Alcaráco. And that settled that.
I expected that Prince Fëanáro would pay me a visit as I gathered my tools and cleaned the studio, but when there was a knock on the study door, it was Queen Indis rather than her step-son.
„Nerdanel,“ she said in her kindly voice. „How do you feel?“
„Relieved,“ I said at once. „It has been an honour working for you, but it has been a long time. It will be good to return to my family.“
The queen smiled. „They must have missed you. I only hope that you will harbour no hard feelings towards Finwë. He did not want to slight you, but he did not want to set a precedent--“
„I understand perfectly well, my lady. Please tell him that I apologise for causing him such a headache. I think you found an excellent solution. I'm happy to know that my sculpture is going to be kept in the palace – in fact, I think it is the better place. So I for my part see no reason for ill feelings.“
„I am glad to hear it. I feel awful about suggesting this contest in the first place. I did not expect this outcome, and I certainly did not expect that Alcaráco would take it so to heart.“
I shrugged. I wasn't sure that I would have called it 'taking it to heart', but it probably wasn't proper to say out loud that Master Alcaráco was behaving childishly. Prince Fëanáro wouldn't have hesitated to do so, I was certain, but then, he did not seem to care about people's feelings all that much. „I would not have had the opportunity to work for you at this early stage, my queen, so I must thank you for the suggestion. And you found an excellent way out of the... the quandary we found ourselves in.“
„I hope so. But I am very sorry that your sculpture received such a tense greeting. It is wonderful, Nerdanel, and we should be able to simply say so.“
I really did not know what to say. Yes, it would have been nice to receive direct praise. The king had found kind words for my sculpture, but they had been overshadowed by considerations of propriety and by anger about Master Alcaráco's ruffled feathers.
I tried to put reassurement into my smile, and went for a craftswoman's reply. „I am glad that my efforts meet your approval. If you have need of a sculptress again, I hope you may remember me.“
„Most assuredly,“ the queen said, kissing my brow before she left.
Having taken my leave, I went to the stables for my horse, believing myself free at last. My heart sank when the man who led my horse outside was not some groom, nor even Wintillo, but Prince Fëanáro himself. I should have figured that he wouldn't simply let me escape, I thought.
„You took your time,“ he said by way of greeting. „I've been waiting here for hours.“
So far, I had been able to contain my frustration. It was petty, to be sure. As I had told the queen, I did not need the title of champion, or a pedestal on the marketplace. I didn't need public acknowledgement that my work wasn't just as good, but in fact better than Master Alcaráco's, did I? But in my heart, I was disappointed: I should have received that acknowledgement, instead of being accused of causing quandaries and being snapped at to explain myself! It was unfair to take out my anger at the king's son, but I could not take yet another unfair allegation.
„If it's important, you could have sent word.“ I snapped. „I did not know that you were waiting. I was cleaning your studio.“ I reached for the bridle.
„That's Wintillo's work.“ The prince deliberately kept it out of my grasp.
„Not where I come from. In my father's house, we clean our workspace ourselves.“ I crossed the distance with three brisk steps and all but wrested the reins from his hands. Without looking at him, I added, „If you don't like it, don't come.“
I felt guilty as soon as I had turned my back on him, and fully expected that he'd complain about my injustive or remind me of what he had done for me. Instead, he surprised me by saying, „You're angry. You should be. That's why I wanted to talk to you.You should protest Father's decision.“
„To what avail? To antagonise Master Alcaráco even further?“
„To keep Father from being unjust! He should have crowned you the winner. It was obvious that your work was the better. Alcaráco knows it, he knows that he's winner only by your grace! Father shouldn't have played along. I really don't know why he did.“
„He said why he did. 'An apprentice mustn't outdo a master craftsman.'“ I had begun to walk out of the stables and down the road, but Prince Fëanáro wouldn't leave my side.
He snorted. „That's absurd. Everybody could see that you had --“
„I had, and I couldn't be rewarded for it. Don't you see, my lord? If apprentices are allowed to best their masters, others might be encouraged to outdo their betters as well.“
„They should be, if they are better than their betters.“
„But they cannot determine that!“ I cried, quickening my pace, dragging the poor confused horse behind me.
„That is why Father should have determined it. You deserved it.“
„Your father's duty is towards all the Noldor, not to me personally. If social order is at risk, personal feelings have to take a step back.“
Prince Fëanáro snorted again. „The peace of the Noldor resting on your slender shoulders! You should have shrugged them.“
„Why should I break the peace? I am no rebel.“ I was sick of this talk. „Please, my lord, let us not argue. I agree with the king's decision.“
„I don't.“
I stopped running away, putting my hands on the saddle to hoist myself up. „Discuss it with your Father, if you must. But leave me out of it. Now please, let me return home.“
He studied me with his keen grey eyes for a moment. Then, at last, he nodded, and turned away.
I regained most of my equilibrium on the ride back home; and when I entered our house and found everybody gathered for dinner, looking up in surprise as I came through the door, I was so flooded with love for these familiar faces and our simple table and our modest food that all lingering anger was washed away.
„Nerdanel!“ Mother exclaimed, rising to greet me. „What a pleasant surprise! We did not hope to see you again so soon.“
I fell into her warm embrace. „Neither did I. But I finished my sculpture. I'm done. I'm back.“
There was cheer and applause around the table. „At last!“ Father shouted, grinning. „Did you pass? Will you be examined soon?“
„Too soon!“ I said, rolling my eyes. „On Yavië first.“ Tomorrow, I would begin to worry. Tonight, I didn't care that I had only two weeks to prepare.
„Well, nothing to worry about. You know everything you need to know,“ Father reassured me.
„I guess so,“ I said with a shrug, too tired to protest.
„What about the contest?“ Alcarinquë asked. „Whose sculpture will be gracing the marketplace, eh?“ He was looking at me with honest curiosity. He looked so much like his father, only without the resentment. I hoped I would be able to keep it that way.
„Master Alcaráco's, of course,“ I said as though there had never been any doubt about it. „But mine will be kept in the king's house. It was a draw, actually. King Finwë wanted us both rewarded.“ I felt this was close enough to the truth, and hopefully close to what they would hear once the news got around.
Without the bitterness of the afternoon, it sounded like a good outcome, and my parents were delighted. „Well done!“ Mother said, and Father rose to hug and kiss me, beaming with pride. „Congratulations!“ said Alcyo, smiling sincerely and clasping my shoulder. Helyanwë and the others apprentices banged their hands on the table, and Sarnië danced around me, singing a happy song without proper words.
What more did I need?