The Hope of Love: Eärendil and Elwing as Symbols of Romance in Popular Culture by Rocky41_7

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Essay

Minor spoilers for a content warning, but there is a rape mention in the section "The Helethwen Film"

The Hope of Love: Eärendil and Elwing as Symbols of Romance in Popular Culture

            One of the most famous love stories in the history of Middle-earth, the quasi-mythical tale of Lady Elwing of the Havens at Sirion, last queen of Doriath, and her husband, Lord Eärendil of Gondolin has captivated popular imagination for centuries. Some of these portrayals are strikingly vivid, reaching to the heart of a young queen facing the destruction of her people at the hands of the Elves of the West, others appeal to a narrower interest in the notion of the seemingly-doomed lovers overcoming insurmountable obstacles. We have seen everything from epic tales to reference in pop songs [See: Well-known pop anthem I’m Coming with its second stanza lyrics “Baby I’m falling fast/But our love will last/Baby I’m flying out to you/Hold your ship steady for me”] to more physical reminders of their story [See: Durin’s Jewelers’ pendant replica of the fabled “Phial of Galadriel” said to contain the light of the star of Eärendil. Its eye-watering price tag make it a niche item.]

            What is it about this story that continues to draw us in year after year? Perhaps through an examination of the various efforts to tell Elwing and Eärendil’s tale, we can see.

            The Play of Mirkwood – We know of the existence of this early play only due to the survival of a single document: a letter from a woman to a close friend. In it, she tells of her recent viewing of this sober tale. While hers is the only confirmation we have of the existence of the play, it would also be the earliest documented telling of the tale. Her story is very believable: it fits with the theory that Oropher, king of Greenwood the Great, and possibly also his son Thranduil, king of Mirkwood, were themselves Iathrim refugees who took shelter east with the handful of their surviving kinsmen after the Third Kinslaying. For them, Elwing’s tale would have been deeply personal to their cultural loss.

According to our letter-writer, the Play of Mirkwood has very few actors and focuses almost entirely on Elwing and her capacity as the last queen of Doriath. Her children do not appear in the play, but are frequently referenced, and her last words evoke a mother’s grief. Eärendil is relegated to barely a side character here, with Elwing’s mourning being largely for her people and her children. This tracks for the creation of a people mourning the death of their kingdom and their culture.

            The Rivendell Frieze – Sadly, this frieze is all but ruins. However, a few key elements allowed for historians to eventually come to broad agreement that it depicts Elwing. The faded, cracked image—which must have once been a centerpiece of a likely highly visible installation, as even what remains suggest it was once fantastic in detail—shows a dark-haired woman clad in white, facing the viewer, clutching a shining jewel in one hand. Her location is unclear, due to the deterioration of the paint, but could plausibly be a cliffside.

            The location in which this frieze was discovered also hints at the location of Imladris—more commonly known as Rivendell. This would also lean us towards assuming the figure in the frieze is Elwing, as Rivendell was formed and ruled over by Eärendil and Elwing’s son, Elrond. The discovery was a blow to the small minority of historians who continue to assert that Elrond preferred his Noldor heritage to the Sindar, or even considered himself Feanorian. They dispute the authenticity of the frieze as well as the details about its location and construction.

            The Gondorin Opera (Title: Eärendil and Elwing) – This was the first effort by Men to retell the story of Eärendil and Elwing. Eschewing much of the politics of the day, the opera makes a love story of the tale, focusing almost entirely on the romance of Eärendil and Elwing. Here, they are childhood companions separated when Eärendil departs in early adolescence to spend time with his Edain kin. When he returns as a young man, he and Elwing fall in love at first reunion.

The later part of the opera centers on Elwing’s desperate flight to Vingilot and their impossible journey to Valinor. It concludes with their celebration in Alqualondë after securing the aid of the Valar.

Rumored to be a favorite piece of altos due to the standout solos available, this play captures a high romance angle of the story, digging deep into the personal feelings of Eärendil and Elwing and their quest for happiness and peace, with far less attention paid to the monumental historical significance of their actions.

Allegedly, it was popular in early performances to cast Hobbits as Elrond and Elros, as they took direction better than actual children. This fell out of favor when such casting choices came to be seen as infantilizing, though opinions differ even among Hobbits.

            The Glamben Play (Title: Downfall of a Queen) – One of the most controversial depictions of Elwing in popular history. Here, the young queen is a self-centered and politically-inept scion of a dying dynasty, who out of pride refuses to surrender the Silmaril and by her own fumbling leaves Sirion open to the attack by the Feanorians. Downfall of a Queen fits in a few digs at Elwing’s ancestors as well. In a move fairly roundly condemned by historians, even those more inclined to show sympathy to Feanorian forces, Maedhros here bargains with Elwing for the release of her children for the Silmaril, which she entirely rejects, openly stating she would rather retain the jewel than her children.

            Several runs of this play have Elwing slipping backwards off the cliff rather than making the decision to jump.

            Eärendil himself does not even appear in the play and is perhaps implied to have abandoned Elwing by the end.

            Downfall of a Queen has long since run out of whatever favor it had, and is not seen in any reputable theater these days. However, it does represent a viewpoint that at one point, had more traction, and the fight it has been for historians to reclaim the history of Elwing and Eärendil from popular misunderstandings.

            The Angwedthor Film (Title: The Tale of Eärendil and Elwing and the Saving of Middle-earth) – This was the first effort to capture the story of Eärendil and Elwing on film, before “talkies” had hit the scene. As such, it is technologically incredibly limited, with a run time of only 40 minutes—and even this strained the finances and capacities of the studio. Some of the artistic license taken here is hard to understand—why, for instance, Elrond is here written as a female child, or why Elwing was given a youthful romantic affair with Gil-galad which motivates his effort to stave the Feanorians off the Havens.

            Due to the expenses of the time, the film avoids any large-scale scenes of battle and destruction, and leaps somewhat jarringly from Elwing’s transformation to her and Eärendil’s arrival in Tirion. However, the film made several unique choices heretofore unseen in Middle-earth cinema, such as the crowds which awaited Elwing and Eärendil in Tirion. While historians debate the accuracy of whether or not Tirion would have evacuated on the news that strangers from over the sea had successfully landed in Valinor, it can’t be denied that this was the first time which crowds of this size had been portrayed in media. Furthermore, director Angwedthor went through the laborious effort of liberally showering the set in actual gold dust to give an ethereal, almost divine feel to the scene, and the sparkle of Tirion’s streets enchanted audiences at the time.

            Furthermore, the film debuted several new cinematographic techniques which have since become standard in the film industry, although the film itself did not endure in popularity. For several decades, though, it was cherished by a loyal group of fans for the tender charisma between the lead actors, but few copies of it remain.

            The Manthor Film (Title: Forever Across the Sea) – Learning from the experience of The Tale of Eärendil and Elwing, here was a stronger effort to capture this famed tale. This film opts to center Eärendil as the protagonist, with Elwing only entering the scene thirty minutes into the film, after Eärendil has already made the decision to begin questing for the Blessed Realm.

            It is commonly agreed that the actress portraying Idril steals the first half of the show, despite her relatively few lines. Her powerful presence and guiding hand on Eärendil paint a picture of a remarkable woman and Falcthel’s palpable confidence onscreen bolster the image.

            Behind-the-scenes controversy suggests Manthor originally meant to make a more foolish figure of Gil-galad: a dull-witted, self-interested clown who came to the throne only by chance. However, the actor playing him took things firmly in a different direction, presenting Gil-galad as war-weary and wary, though not unsympathetic to the unstable position of the Havens. In the end, director Manthor was so impressed with the gravitas of Goror’s portrayal that he ceded direction on the character to Goror.

            Additionally, Tomben’s portrayal of Eärendil is still considered by many to be the best onscreen portrayal of Eärendil of all time. His booming voice and captivating demeanor make it all too believable that his sailors would follow him into the unknown time and time again.

            Capping off these mesmerizing performances is Elwing’s final speech to the Teleri of Aman, a moment so fascinating that it has become the basis of many other dramatic confrontations throughout popular media. Almost anyone will recognize the line “I plead my hope,” or even its more extended version “Oh ye of foreign shores, I plead my hope. Let my home not be crushed ‘neath the boot of Bauglir,” even with no familiarity with the film. The passion of Torthoriel’s performance here has brought many a moviegoer to tears and captures a moment few had before bothered with—Elwing’s part in gaining the aid of Aman.

However, despite its artistic merit, this film is loudly criticized for fueling the largely-debunked myth that Eärendil came and went from Sirion multiple times during the course of Elwing’s converse with Maedhros, lord of the Feanorians.

            The TV miniseries (Title: Saving Our Shores) – Attempting to reach a younger audience, this 5-episode limited series portrayed Eärendil and Elwing as high schoolers trying to stave off the efforts of Feanorian Oil Refining, Co. to validate some historical claim on the land where the teens’ hometown sits. Due to the characters’ young age, the kidnapping of Elwing and Eärendil’s children was replaced with the poisoning of Elwing’s beloved pet doves. Their backstories as refugees are largely retconned, though Elwing remains an orphan.

            The series did not make much of a stir, being largely dismissed as an ineffective effort at “modernization.” The costuming and camerawork, standard at the time, painfully date the series and are contemporarily found laughably lacking in style or finesse. It was also criticized for putting its environmental message ahead of the story of the characters. However, it remains popular with teenagers (possibly in part due to the number of sequences the main characters spend lightly clad at the beach), such that at any given youth costume party, one is likely to observe at least a single young woman wearing Elwing’s signature look from the film: the breezy white sundress and the necklace of cowrie shells (a gift from Eärendil).

            A few defenders of the series point to how well it captures the feeling of being up against an impossible enemy and how naturally Elwing and Eärendil’s relationship comes off. It is most remembered for the incredibly catching opening song, as well as a few other effective, limited uses of lyric throughout the series. So much so that it was said to be partial inspiration for the next adaptation in our study.

            The Methoril Rock Opera (Title: Blood of the Day) – This is one adaptation people either love or hate (and in some cases, love to hate or hate to love). It makes no claims at being a historical piece and therefore makes no apologies for the broad artistic license it takes.

            In this raucous stage performance—which includes, at one point, flamethrowers—Gil-galad sells out the location of Elwing and the Silmaril to the Feanorians in exchange for their recognizing his kingship, a scene which kicks off the story. Other notable stylistic choices include choosing to portray Tuor as a humorous if inept drunkard, the infamous make-out scene with Elwing and one of her female companions which is never raised again in the performance, Idril’s florescent pink mohawk and her somewhat bone-chilling solo “Mother Knows Best,” and the decision to show the Feanorians attacking the Havens with machine guns (one of which serves as Lord Maedhros’ prosthetic hand).

            Historians largely disdain the piece, and its merits among the artistic community have been debated since its release, but what one cannot deny is the electrifying discography. Hearing Elwing scream into the microphone about having to choose between her city and her children is hair-raising in the best way, and the electric guitar work in Eärendil and Elwing’s love theme drives home the intensity of their relationship like nothing else. Other standouts include Tuor’s surprisingly touching goodbye to Eärendil before his and Idril’s departure, by far the quietest song of the score, and Eärendil and Elwing’s duet of lament for their lost homes.

            What Blood of the Day captures is not the accuracies in detail of Elwing and Eärendil’s story, but the feelings of it. In these blaring odes to electrifying instruments that perhaps should not be electrified, Methoril captures the incredible weight of the feelings that bear on the lovers and their story.

            The Helethwen Film (Title: Eärendil and Elwing) – Hopes were not high for this revival piece, with many arguing that we are past the need for further adaptations of this story. However, a number of opinion column writers were forced to eat their words after the debut of this box office-shattering instant classic. Helethwen’s masterpiece blew all expectations out of the water, even those of movie executives who argued that two and a half hours was far too long to engage any audience in a historical piece.

            This is the first of any adaptation which begins with Elwing’s flight from Doriath during the Second Kinslaying and which centers her character around this formative trauma. It picks up Eärendil’s story with the trek of the Gondolindrim away from the smoking ruin of their city; they arrive in a Havens at Sirion already established by the Iathrim. The friendship between the child Elwing—initially aloof, but quickly warming up to the amiable Eärendil—and her companion is very believable thanks to stellar performances by the child actors, and the tender romance which blossoms in their late adolescence is sure to soften the heart even of the most cynical viewer.

            This film also places the children—Elrond and Elros—firmly in the core of the narrative, with Eärendil and Elwing’s concern for their young family being a significant motivator. During the assault on the Havens, it is Elwing who lures the Feanorians away from the city center in an effort to keep them from discovering her children.

            The main criticism of this film comes from the brief confrontation between Lord Amrod of the Feanorians and Elwing, wherein he attempts to rape her. The act never comes close to consummation, but there are voices on both sides, arguing that it accurately captures the violence of war, or that it was a distraction from the core story and unneeded additional victimization of Elwing. At least one DVD release of the film cuts the scene entirely.

            There are others who feel Braxton’s performance as Eärendil does not compare with Tomben’s earlier performance, but most still feel that Braxton was a solid choice. Furthermore, Aelil’s electrifying portrayal of Elwing covers over any weaknesses in her co-star’s work. She is undoubtedly the heart of the story, a choice which many critics have cited as key to the film’s success.  

            Elfie Graphic Novel (Title: Peredhel Tale) – Beginning as a webcomic almost a decade ago, Peredhel Tale kicked off its print run two years back. Wrangling a huge cast of characters, creator Elfwyne (known online as “Elfie”) focuses the core of the story on Eärendil and Elwing, and their developing friendship and romance throughout their time in the Havens at Sirion, but also digs into backstories for supporting characters, featuring prominently Idril and Tuor and their struggles with a mortal/immortal marriage; Evranin’s difficulty in seeing Elwing grow up; and the history of Círdan the Shipwright as well as his relationship with Elwing (he here plays something of a grandfatherly role for her).

            Peredhel Tale excels in the details of the story because it has the luxury of lingering on smaller elements that more condensed adaptations cannot. For instance, Elfie dedicates an entire chapter (18 pages) to Eärendil and Elwing’s first meeting on the beach as children. Their unusually adult dialogue in this sequence serves to display how quickly they have been forced to mature, and the difficult and heavy thoughts weighing on them even in the middle of seemingly normal child’s play. Her use of vivid color and bold linework make her style easily identifiable and lend great depth of emotion to her drawings. Her tonal coloring in particular sets the scene before any dialogue has been uttered.

            The graphic novel has only issued the first book, which ends while Eärendil and Elwing are still in childhood and dealing with the struggles of their trauma as refugees and future leaders of their people, but the webcomic has gone as far as Elrond and Elros’ fourth birthday. Elfie also plans to include in one of the printed volumes the accompanying short story A Frog for Nana, which focuses entirely on Elrond and Elros, at play in the village and in the surrounding landscape of the Havens.

            Much of the content in the story is pure fiction—Elfie goes into detail on things we simply cannot know, such as whether there was anything romantic between Elwing’s nurse Evranin and Gereth, or to what extent Elwing and Eärendil exhibited Elvish traits in spite of their mortal blood—but her author’s notes reveal a copious study of the historical period and frank admissions where things were invented for the sake of the story. Tonally, it remains consistent, and great attention was given to the most accurate depiction possible of life in the Havens, as well as various cultural details of the Gondolindrim and the Iathrim.

            Above all, Peredhel Tale is a story of love—between Eärendil and Elwing, between Eärendil and his parents, between Círdan and Elwing, and between the people of the Havens and their city. Elfie never lets the reader stray too far from this core and the result is a deeply humanizing—if not wholly historically accurate—portrait not only of the central couple, but their friends, family, and neighbors. Scholars on this subject may wish to subscribe to future updates of Peredhel Tale to see how Elfie handles the Third Kinslaying and the voyage to Valinor.

Conclusion

            What do all these things tell us about the story of Eärendil and Elwing and its place in society? First, it shows us that there is an enduring interest in a good love story—platonic or romantic—and that Middle-earth never loses its thirst for a tale of hope. Seeing characters onscreen, on stage, or on the page who have lost everything pick themselves up and carry on, find new purpose in life, can be comforting for us. There is something reassuring in seeing that, thousands of years ago, people loved and despaired and hoped just as they do now. It is a connection with ages long gone and an affirmation that we are all people—historical figures included.

            Second, it illustrates the effectiveness of using a personal story to illustrate a historical event. The horror of the Third Kinslaying remains shocking and potentially overwhelming even today. The wanton loss of life as well as the wholesale cultural destruction from which the Iathrim never recovered is painful even now. Indeed, the tale of Elwing may be seen as the last gasp of the Iathrim, reaching through the years to remind us that they were here. However, it can be difficult to grasp the magnitude of such things. Wrapping it up in the personal story of Eärendil and Elwing’s struggles and tragedy drive it home in a way that facts and figures do not.

            Most of all, it tells us that their story remains relevant even in our times and that we still find hope in their struggles and successes. Eärendil and Elwing are still speaking to us, and perhaps in listening, we are reaching back to tell them that their sacrifice matters. We may feel that these stories tell us we are not alone—but perhaps we also seek to tell them that they are not alone, either.

Chapter End Notes

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