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Erestor lay up against a tree, brown washed to black in the wet of the snow. The black disc of the new moon sailed across the dark sky. Erestor wished it were gone. He had no need to look into dark eyes any longer.
He was dying.
(AKA Erestor unwittingly travels back in time to the…
Fëanor shrugged, studying the contents of his wine glass. “Something must be done about that house. It will fall down eventually.” “It does not follow that it must be you that tears it down single-handedly. Are you sure you do not want help?” “It’s not as though I…
This is my new poetical attempt to add my own interpretation to Tolkien's Cosmology as to Eru's Creation and the Valar's minds and behind-the-scene providence reasons and mechanisms.. I often review Eä as part of our own world, just in another dimension, this is why I have always seriously…
Concerned by his responses to the paraphernalia of healing, Fingon steals Maedhros from his room for an impromptu garden excursion. Maedhros battles with dark thoughts.
Rescued from a brutal Angband hunt, an ex-thrall with a strange and powerful artifact embedded in his spine is brought to Himring, for it is one of the only places in Beleriand which welcomes such folk. Though he has no memories of his life before, Anniavas slowly becomes accustomed to his new…
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Bilbo, the strange old hobbit with the wandering feet, senses something special in young Frodo the first time he sees the lad; as they become close, they find in each other a cameraderie not well understood by other hobbits. Five poignant moments between Bilbo and Frodo Baggins over the course…
A Chieftain is dead. And whilst the events surrounding his death are unclear, a son tries to come to terms with his loss.
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I found the imagery striking and very powerful -- the contrast between the flamboyance and flimsy of the costumes as seen from close-up, and their beauty when seen from the audience seats, sets up a nice parallel to the contrast between theatre as seen through the eyes of purely "practical" politicians and the magic of the stage to enthrall and empower. I loved - as bad as that sounds - the political machinations in the background. I loved how the dancers found their courage as soon as they decided to perform anyway - the show must go on - and I love the implications of this (and perhaps every other) performance of Tar-Vanimelde: frivolous and theatrical on the surface, but deeply political underneath.
Poor Vanimelde, and poor Alcarin! But I feel that they both took strength from this performance.
"The show must go on" is definitely a theme here! It makes them stronger, as a group.
I am glad that suggested contrast worked for you.
I had written a short piece before about Tar-Vanimelde and the implications of her dancing ("Vanimelde Dances" in my Numenor anthology). Yes, there was always a political side to it, although in times before these, it was more of a cultural policy rather than political intrigue.
A lot is packed into this gem of a story. I really appreciated how Alcarin’s perception of the situation changes so dramatically (so to speak) as the story progresses. It begins with him feeling embarrassed that his elderly mother with her bent, arthritic hands is planning a dance performance when clearly she’s past her prime. He notices the costumes, meant to look impressive from a distance, but close up, appear tawdry. He wants to beg his mother not to do this. Then her husband, Herucalmo, sends guards to turn away the audience and Vanimelde reveals the real reason she insisted on this performance. She wants to make a plea to her people to put Alcarin in power once she’s gone. Suddenly, Alcarin sees her completely differently. She wasn’t doing this to relive some past glory but rather to try to counter her husband’s machinations. His mother who didn’t care for politics is doing something political, and daring, in an act of love for him. Now that they’ve been discovered, there is fear for the other performers, but they rally and decide to do the performance anyway, without the speech, as if that’s what they meant to do all along. And in a moment of moral clarity, Alcarin decides to sit in the audience to support them all. The performance takes on tremendous meaning for him that he remembers the rest of his life. It seems he matures that night as he comes to a larger understanding about his mother, and himself, and what it means to stand up for each other.
Goodness, are there Herucalmo fans? Certainly not after reading this. lol.
Thank you very much for your wonderful comment! And sorry I've been so slow to reply. There's more I'd like to say, but I thought I shouldn't delay at least thanking you any longer!
Thank you so much for your comments here and during the discussion yesterday!
I realized afterwards I had not answered your question about the relationship between Alcarin and Herucalmo.
I had to think about this a bit to put my thoughts about this into words:
Alcarin (that is, the Alcarin of Himring 'verse) always loved his mother, but was conscious of being in some ways more like his father. Herucalmo was more hands-off, as a parent, but at the same time quite persuasive as a parental authority. At the time before this story starts, Alcarin is really feeling let down by both his parents in different ways, but does not want to admit it. During this story, he realizes that he is less like Herucalmo than he thought and also that values he shares with his mother are a more meaningful bond than any shared character traits with his father. (Hope that makes sense!)
Vanimelde is such a fascinating character, an artist's soul trapped in the body of a ruler. You have captured that tension so well, her love for the performance and the nervousness of the political setting. Likewise, with her aging body (the hands!), fantastic character building.
Alcarin watching the performance alone is such a powerful image in my mind. No doubt, his mother's legacy will live through him.
Thanks for sharing! (I won't be able to join the book club sesh as it takes place during my crack of dawn, but I highly enjoyed this, thank you)
Comments on Send in the Clowns: A story of Numenorean theatre
The Silmarillion Writers' Guild is more than just an archive--we are a community! If you enjoy a fanwork or enjoy a creator's work, please consider letting them know in a comment.