Cherished Antagonist, Despised Protagonist- a defence of Elu Thingol by Stella Getreuer-Kostrouch  

View the Mereth Aderthad presentation here.

Introduction

If we count the times characters have used direct speech in The Silmarillion (as Dawn Walls-Thumma has done in her paper ‘The Silmarillion: Who Speaks?’), we notice that it is indeed Elu Thingol who has the most ‘screentime’ within the published Silmarillion, at least when counting the numbers of direct speeches. One could even argue that this -together with his deep involvement in the events of the First Age and the not insignificant influence his actions have on later Ages- makes him one of those characters who could potentially be viewed as something resembling a point-of-view character. And while the Silmarillion does not have those, Elu Thingol is still a character we meet multiple times, and watch develop over time, and we know more about his motivations than we know about the majority of characters.

Tolkien even calls him ‘the greatest among the Eldar safe Fëanor only’ (Jewels, 2015, page 21), but that does not endear him to the fandom. Not at all. Rather, when I asked on Tumblr how people rated Elu Thingol, more than half of the over 700 people who answered listed him as a character they disliked or outright hated, or were utterly indifferent to. There are characters who are less liked, of course, like Eöl or Elwing for example, but it still safe to say that he is none of fandom’s darlings.

This is further supported by a look at Archive of Our Own (AO3 in the following). Per June 2^nd, 2025, Elu Thingol had 860 works to his name on AO3, with only a minority having him as the main character. The majority of the stories only lists him as an -often antagonistic- side-character. For comparison, Maedhros has 8962 stories listed to his name, Maglor 7611, Fingon has 5050 works, Celebrimbor 4214,  Finrod 3,418, Finwë has 1204 works. To be fair here, Elu still has the most works amongst the Sindar, but still the difference is jarring. Now, I know of no equivalent platform for other fanworks, but judging from what I see on the likes of Tumblr and Facebook, he receives but a fraction of the attention that other characters with comparable influence get.

There is definitely a point to be made about the fandom tending to favour the Noldor in general, which by and in itself is a very interesting phenomenon, but a subject for a different paper. However, even considering that, why is it that fandom so dislikes him, and even those who do not outright dislike him, seldom truly care about him?

One quite simple answer to this question is that we readers are simply not meant to commiserate with him by design, at least not in Of Beren and Lúthien. It is the tale of two lovers whom the establishment tries to keep apart, so how could the reader not side with them rather than the establishment, the antagonist, who, in fairytales dealing with this trope, usually is the bride’s father. The Tale of Beren and Lúthien is no exception to that.

Elu of course plays this role masterfully, making an utter fool of himself while simultaneously breaking his daughter’s heart and causing complete mayhem within Beleriand itself, only to come around in the end in an almost comical way. And that is it, that is his legacy, the essence of his role. Readers are not supposed to outright hate him, but roll their eyes at him. Given that the Of Beren and Lúthien is a fairytale even within the Silmarillion itself, we know from the start that he will not get his will in the end, anyway. Or so we think.

So readers are likely not terribly impressed with him after Of Beren and Lúthien, and when Elu Thingol meets his end at the hands of the Dwarves, the first thought that probably comes to many readers’ minds is something along the lines of ‘serves him right’. And yes, there is no denying that it is a petty death, and that the insult he hurls at the Dwarves -not just the smiths that confront him but Dwarves in general, who have after all been his allies for many centuries, maybe millennia-  is unforgivable.

And finally, adding insult to injury, his always being against everything- the Noldor, Men, war against Morgoth, Lúthien’s marriage, is just annoying. Love him as I do, after my first round of reading the Silmarillion, I did roll my eyes every time he came up, thinking ‘oh, not you AGAIN.’

What changed? Well, I re-read carefully, and the more I read, the more I thought about what I had read, the more I found myself in him. Which brings me to the question I really want to answer- why, when he is an obvious antagonist and not a very likeable character in general- is it not so easy after all to understand that fandom tends to make him the villain?

Definitions

He is presented within the fandom as a racist, a misogynist, above many other ‘crimes’ that stand allotted to his name. Therefore, before I start going into textual analyses, I would like to look a little more closely at the accusations directed at Elu Thingol, and see whether they can truly be applied to the characters within Tolkien’s legendarium.

Over the past few decades, fandom conception in general has started to shift more towards a critical interpretation of the original works, one that challenges the author’s believes. Especially where fanworks are concerned, it is the villains who get the attention now, the redemption arcs, and the love, which is of course one of the beauties of fanworks in general, that we may give those a voice that the author overlooked, or treated unjustly. And with Tolkien being an author who so often takes blame off his characters’ shoulders (unless that character is called Melkor), this makes for brilliant character-developments.

This phenomenon directly affects Elu Thingol, for while he could well be considered one of the morally grey characters that fandoms seem to favour these days, he is also a character that Tolkien himself seemed to like, which means that as the author himself and his believes fall under scrutiny, so do the characters he favours.

Now, this development is not at all a bad thing, quite the contrary. It is important and necessary that we increase the fandom’s -fandoms’ in general- sensitivity to outdated views and phrasings, and the hurt these can inflict upon real people. But there is a line to be drawn between a fandom’s sensitivity to outdated and hurtful views and phrasings, its striving to adjust fanworks and new interpretations to accommodate everyone instead of just a small group of privileged people, and the condemning of the author based on views and phrasings that are outdated and perceived as hurtful today, but were not when the author’s works were written, edited and published. Or in other words: would Tolkien live and write today, his works would be terribly racist, sexist, misogynist. But he does not. J.R.R. Tolkien died over fifty years ago, and the earliest versions of the Silmarillion date back over a hundred years. And he cannot be held accountable for using phrasings that, while clearly coded today, did not have the same connotation back then. That is a political and ideological corner that Tolkien and his characters do not belong in, and nor should they be put there.

Since this is a paper about Elu Thingol, I would like to draw particular attention to how this phenomenon affects the contemporary perception of his character specifically. For if read only superficially, he does check a lot of undesirable boxes- that of a racist, that of a misogynist, that of far-right governments that call for people to learn the language of the country they live in. It requires a closer look to once again un-check these boxes, and realise that Elu is none of these things, and in many cases actually the contrary. But I will come back to this in more detail later.

As I said before, it is of little use discussing whether or not Tolkien himself should be considered misogynist, but still it is safe to say that from our modern point of view, the view on women in the Silmarillion is pretty problematic. Looking at it from a historical perspective, this is not so, quite the contrary. After all, Tolkien’s Elves, who were clearly meant to be his ‘ideal’ society, are in large parts an equal society, with men and women having equal chances. That said, it is true that Elvish women seemingly tend to choose paths that would nowadays be considered traditionally female, but even so, they are not obliged to, nor are there few men who also engage in those careers. Female Elves are not prevented from choosing career-paths that are more generally the domain of males, reproductive work is not restricted to females only, with Elvish fathers taking almost equal share in child-bearing and -raising, at least mentally. No Elvish woman is the property of any man, and she does not need her father’s-, husband’s or brother’s permission to do anything -and that does, at least according to the Laws and Customs among the Eldar, a paper now published in Morgoth’s Ring (Morgoth’s Ring, 2015, page 212), include marriage. An Elvish woman’s vote and opinion counts equally to that of her male peers, which is, given the time the Silmarillion was written in, pretty progressive. Just for comparison, both Lichtenstein and South Africa, Tolkien’s native country, only legally permitted women to vote after Tolkien’s death, amidst many other countries.

Still there are some structures among Tolkien’s Elves that are fundamentally patriarchal. The Noldor, for example, have no named queens, with the wives of kings having no power of their own. Otherwise, Indis could simply have ruled on after Finwë’s death, and Fëanor and Fingolfin need never have started fighting over the crown. And speaking of Fingolfin, he does have an elder sister who is largely forgotten, Findis, who stayed in Aman… who stayed in Aman, and who should, had the society been truly equal, have inherited the crown of the Noldor in Aman, instead of her youngest brother. In fact, Galadriel is the first female ruler among the Noldor, and she is not only half-Teleri but also married to a Sinda. And she does not rule before the Third Age.

Looking at the Sindar, and thus coming back to the subject of this paper, this is somewhat different. Elu and Melian, and later also Dior and Nimloth, rule as King and Queen of Doriath, and the limitations that Melian’s rule has stem less from any restrictions her sex puts on her but from the restriction of her race, dictating that the Ainur cannot rule over the Children. (Silmarillion, 1999, page 35)

Racism is a fairly new (in human history) word for a very old problem, for a branch of xenophobia that entitles some people to think that they are above other people. Xenophobia is to a certain extent a very natural thing that is simply a part of life for any species that lives in groups (because a group comes with the definition of a ‘we’, and where there is a ‘we’, there is ‘others’, and ‘others’ mean unknown parameters and thus potential danger. Unlike racism, xenophobia has a remedy, which is compassion and education. Racism is malignant. Racism is the justification people make up for treating others as inferiors, for condoning the suffering of other human beings for their own personal gain.

Racism, however, can only ever exist among the same species. On Earth, there only exists one species that builds civilisations at the moment, and that is humans. In Middle-Earth, however, there exist at least three civilisation-building species, and between them, there can be no racism. There can be racism -and there most certainly is racism- among Elves and Men and Dwarves, for example the Númenorians holding themselves to be a better version of humans than those who remained in Middle-Earth, or the Edain being held superior over the Easterlings. And that is not even touching upon the descriptions of the Men of the East and South in the Lord of the Rings. That is indeed deeply racist.

There is one more point that needs to be considered- when we talk about especially Elu Thingol’s actions and words against Men and Dwarves being racist, it cannot be overlooked that he tends to rationalise his displayed superiority by the fact that he is an immortal being, and as such much older and much wiser than either Dwarves or Men. Dwarves as a people may reach back almost as far as the Elves (or further, depending on how we interpret the short while of consciousness of the seven Dwarven Fathers), but Men in the First Age have been around for mere centuries. They are truly children in the eyes of the Elves, as indeed Andreth accuses Finrod (Morgoth’s Ring, 2015, page 308). And even for Dwarves, who do have lore that reaches back a long way, the individuals still do not live longer than a few hundred years- which may make them seem ancient to Men, but not much older than aforementioned children to Elves. At the time of his death, Elu Thingol is at least 4500 years old (I need depend on sources here, as I am at an utter loss of how to interpret the Years of Trees versus Years of the Sun. But someone who actually understands this said so, so I am going to copy that number). Just to put this into perspective, according to our understanding of history, Elu’s life would reach back to the time Stonehenge was being built, back to the very border between the Neolithic period and the early Iron Age. Imagine being able to remember everything that happened between then and now. How would a being like that not regard Humans as ignorant (and be proven right, seeing that we seem incapable of remembering and learning from the events of the past century)?

There is racism also amongst the Elves- displayed mainly by the sons of Fëanor against the Teleri as a whole. From the start, there is a certain name-calling in the word ‘Teleri’- those who tarry. Fëanor later insults the Falmari, and blatantly disregards the works of their hands, even after those ships have carried him to Middle-Earth. Their attitude towards the Sindar is not much different, but I will come back to that a little later.

Last but not least, let us look at the term ‘Linguistic Genocide’, a term that is used from time to time in regard to the Quenya-ban. Linguistic Genocide sadly is a very real thing (see for example Linguistic Genocide or Superdiversity?, 2016), a real crime committed against real people, and I would strongly commend to look up definitions before throwing such terms around on Tumblr or similar platforms. The Quenya-ban has nothing to do with Linguistic Genocide.

We are talking about Linguistic Genocide when a government -autocratic or democratically elected- uses political power to prevent a minority -often the native people- from using their language and, to some extent, also from passing on traditions and rituals. The Soviet Union (and later modern Russia) for example did that to the Finno-Ugric people, amongst others. As this is an example I am rather familiar with (having studied Uralistics at University), I will use it to explain this term, though there are of course many other instances of Linguistic Genocide.

In the case of Russia and the Uralic languages, the government strove to eliminate minorities without using outright force, sometimes even pretending to support the preservation of minority-culture. They did that by forcing people of a minority to move,  scattering the speakers of the minority language all over Russia, thus making it very hard for them to continue using their native language, and forcing them to use Russian instead. There would be no radio-programs (or if there were, they would be highly ideological), no television, the Uralic languages would not be taught in schools, and dealings with doctors or authorities would require the fluid use of Russian. This lead to the language not being used and not being passed on, which then caused (and still causes) many Uralic languages to go extinct. And with the language dies the culture, because the language was what defined those people as a people. There are only few ‘survivors’ now, among them the relatively large languages like Sámi, Mari and Karelian, but most of the smaller Finno-ugric languages have died out, or are dying out as their last few native speakers die. The Samojedic languages have not fared any better.

This is what Linguistic Genocide is and does.

The Quenya-ban cannot be compared to this, because a) Quenya was still spoken and kept evolving in its native land, which is Aman, b) Quenya was not a language spoken by a minority native to Beleriand, but a language that was brought to Beleriand by invaders- not immigrants who sought protection or economic security, but colonisers.

It is also very questionable whether the Quenya-ban actually had that much influence on the language going out of use, as Sindarin was already the language used in most mixed settlements. That in itself is no argument, of course, but it puts the impact the ban on the Noldor a little into perspective.

Elu Thingol and racism

So, having clarified the premises of my paper, I would now like to delve into the text itself. I will look closely at those passages that so annoy large parts of the fandom and see if I cannot uncheck some of the those infamous boxes Elu Thingol apparently ticks.

Probably the accusation that is most frequently brought up against Elu Thingol is that he is being racist, and while I understand where this perception comes from, I still find it worthy challenging. That Elu is much less welcoming to strangers than the Noldor are is firmly rooted in canon, and that his final words to the Dwarves who became his murderers were nothing short of disgusting stands unchallenged. But as I mentioned above, applying our contemporary -and very human centred- terminology has its flaws.

Let us begin with looking at Elu Thingol’s interaction with Men, because this is what usually comes to readers’ minds first when they call him racist. Elu openly mistrusted and therefore disliked Men from the moment he learned about their coming; before that, even, as stated in Of the Coming of Men into the West, (Silmarillion, 1999, page 167). His mistrust therefore had little to do with him viewing Men as lesser, but with a very specific fear- that Men might be in league with Morgoth. And he is not wrong there. Morgoth discovered Men first, and corrupted their minds with his lies, like he tried with the Elves back at Cuiviénen. Many Men fought for Morgoth in the wars, and were his subjects. While this was not true for all humans, Elu’s mistrust was not altogether unwarranted. Looking at humanity today, he might actually have had a point- we cannot be trusted with anything, not knowledge, not the planet we live on, and most certainly not with power. We humans tend to forget the impact of bad decisions already in a lifetime, a timespan that to Elves is hardly more than the blink of an eye. We have no way of ever reaching the wisdom of Elves, and that was exactly what made Elu Thingol dislike and mistrust Men.

Still, interestingly, he alone amongst the Elvish rulers does not treat Men in general as subjects or inferiors. Much as the Noldor greet the Edain, and love them, they are still always their vassals. Haleth is no-one’s vassal. When she leads her people to Brethil, and when Finrod speaks for her and her people before Elu, bidding that they may stay, he grants it, and grants it without having them swear any oaths of fealty. Oaths to which he would have been entitled, because Brethil, while outside the Girdle, was still his lands. But he does not, only asking the people of Haleth to defend the bridges, to which Haleth replied with an attitude that would probably have cost her her head with a human king. Elu ignores the slight, and lets them fare as they may. And when they are assailed, it is Beleg Cúthalion, Elu Thingol’s captain, who leads an army of the Iathrim to the aid of the Men of Brethil. We can safely assume that Beleg initiated this, but we can be equally certain that this did not happen without the knowledge and approval of the King of Doriath.

Elu Thingol also makes no difference between Elves and Men when it comes to family. Yes, his initial reaction to Beren was hideous, but once he came around, he treated him and his relatives as family. Not only does he take Túrin as his foster son, he also receives Morwen and Nienor into Doriath with grace, and love, and the vast majority of his realm did the same.

Dwarves are a different matter, both in-universe and when looked at from the outside. That there would be little love between Dwarves and Elves was predicted (or rather designed) by none other than Ilúvatar Himself. So it is given that whenever Dwarves and Elves have dealings, their communication was bound to be fraught with misunderstandings. That does not excuse individual actions, but it is something to bear in mind nonetheless.

Despite that, a rather fruitful business-relationship developed between Elu Thingol’s people and the Dwarves of Nogrod and Belegost, leading to the building of Menegroth and the arming of the Sindar on the one side, and the the acquisition of highly prised treasure on the other- and, above all, to the exchange of news and knowledge. Dwarves were always welcome in Doriath as craftsmen, so much so that they had their own quarters  and workshops within Menegroth that suited them (Silmarillion, 1999, page 279). This business relationship went on for over a thousand years, for many generations of Dwarves. And the Dwarves must have considered themselves to be fairly treated, or they would not have stayed in that business-relationship. That much we know about Tolkien’s Dwarves.

The reason why fandom calls Elu Thingol racist against the Dwarves is based on one single incident, and especially the ripples this incident sent throughout the Ages, right up to Gimli and Legolas slowly but surely becoming friends at the end of the Third Age. And yes, I am leaving the Petty Dwarves out of this discussion entirely. We know too little, there are too many conflicting informations there, and most of all this is nothing to do with Elu Thingol as a person.

So, the Nauglamir-incident. Fandom generally sees Elu at fault here, because he was keeping treasures that -according to fandom- were not his to keep, because he was ‘robbing’ the Dwarves of their treasure. That he then insulted them rounds it off nicely. Or so the common fandom-belief.

The first thing we must look into the way Dwarves and Elves view possessions, with the Elves’ take on ownership more or less equalling our human one, and the Dwarves’ take being a different one. For a Dwarf, the maker of an object is the rightful owner, not the one who acquired it, regardless of how much was paid for it. In their understanding, all things made by the hands of a Dwarf must return to the Dwarves eventually. If we now add Húrin’s understanding -or lack there off- of how Dwarves and Elves viewed possessions, we have the perfect receipt for disaster. Húrin had not acted irrationally or wrong, he punished Mîm for the betraying of his son, and took the Nauglamir as weregild. Yes, we readers know that in this he was likely driven by Morgoth, but still, looking at human history, it was not an unusual action at all.

Elu then received the Nauglamir without ever asking for it. But the moment Húrin offered it as an earnest gift, it attained emotional value for Elu Thingol- we must remember that he had by that time lost Lúthien, got her back only to learn that she would die the death of Men, which meant that once she died, he would never see her again, ever. For an Elf, this is a loss that is almost unthinkable, especially in a time before the Choice of the Halfelven was known. And child-loss, regardless of age, has the potential to destroy almost everyone- the tragedy did not end with Lúthien, of course, which brings us back to Húrin and the Nauglamir, because Elu went through all that loss again. He loved Túrin as his son, knowing he was mortal, knowing he would lose him just like he would lose Lúthien, but he chose to love nonetheless. What happened then was even worse, with Túrin fleeing from Doriath in Elu’s absence and never returning, not even accepting Elu’s apologies.

And then suddenly, he has the Silmaril, the jewel that Beren and Lúthien had won. And he has the Nauglamir, that was given to him by Húrin as a thanks for taking care of Túrin (at least the second time around). I, at least, cannot blame him for wanting both of those objects joined, and in a way that he could always have them close to him. And in his view, he had acquired both those treasures rightfully. Beren had won the Silmaril, Beren had given it to him. Húrin had taken the Nauglamir as weregild, Húrin had given it to him.

Looking at the Dwarves’ point of view, we can easily see why that angered them. After all, they had crafted the Nauglamir, and it was one of their greatest artworks. But there is an issue with that. First of all, while it was without any doubt the Dwarves’ unmatched skills that made the Nauglamir, the gems that were worked into it were not theirs, they were Finrod’s. The Nauglamir was ever a commissioned work, so even within their own legal system, I am not so sure whether all Dwarves would have agreed that it is indeed theirs after the demise of its dedicated owner.

Apart from that, the Elves’ legal system was nothing new to the Dwarves. They had worked for and with them for many generations, and were well aware what the Elves meant by commissary-works. Which of course is of importance in the Nauglamir-incident also. It is claimed frequently that really, the Dwarves were right to reclaim the Nauglamir, because the Elves had stolen their treasure as had happened to many colonies. We have no textual evidence, however, that this is what happened. For while we know that the Dwarves likely considered the Nauglamir theirs after Finrod’s death, they still knew that the Elves had a different opinion about it.

In this case, there is no right or wrong but simply two different legal systems. However, at the time they agreed to the commission-work, they were in Doriath -an Elvish realm under Elvish law- as free people, not as an oppressed minority. They were as much or little the native people of Beleriand as the Sindar were, and lived free life under their own rule. Any comparison to the robbing and oppressing of indigenous peoples is highly improper, therefore, and illustrates again the tendency in the fandom to twist canon only to criminalise the Sindar in general, and their king in particular.

Now, we do not know whether the Dwarves ever talked to Elu Thingol about the Nauglamir and the importance it held for them, but I think it very unlikely, simply because then, asking them to join the Silmaril into the Nauglamir would have been almost suicidal. For just as with the Dwaves knew the laws of the Sindar, Elu knew Dwarves and their takes on treasures. I also think it highly unlikely that the Dwarves would have agreed to do the work had they really been genuinely concerned with the Nauglamir. We could still assume that Elu made them prisoners and forced them to do the work like Tinwelint did in the Book of Lost Tales, (BoLT2, 2015, page 227) but to that, we have no textual evidence whatsoever within the Silmarillion, and what is more, I highly doubt that their pride would have permitted them to accept such conditions. They would much rather have stayed in prison for a while than bend their will, and evidence suggests that this would have been the worst they had to fear. To further refute this theory- Elu Thingol was alone among the Dwarves while they worked. No guard in their right mind would leave their king alone amongst (armed) prisoners. Just like nobody would let prisoners keep their weapons. So I think we can settle on the Dwarves taking on that job freely. And while by their law they might have had claim on the Nauglamir, they never ever could view the Silmaril as theirs. And that, apologies for saying it so bluntly, makes this group of smiths not only murderers but thieves.

There remains the fact that Elu was not innocent in this incident, either. He insults the Dwarves -not only those specific Dwarves but Dwarves as a people- in an appalling way, and much though I love him, that is one of the passages of the book where I wished I did not. It makes me ashamed of him and ashamed of nonetheless loving him.

Is there anything to be said in his defence? Well, yes, though that does still not excuse his words. But the fact remains that the Dwarves were in no way more courteous, that he was under a lot of pressure and also likely in an emotional state that was close to madness. He always had the tendency to lash out under pressure and regret his rashness later, and what little control he might have had was lost in his addiction to the Silmaril. And yes, I deliberately choose to call it that, for to me, that last pitiful fight over the jewel was nothing more than addicts grappling over their next fix.    

Mitigating circumstances notwithstanding, the Dwarves had absolutely every right to be enraged. End all diplomatic- and business-relationships with Doriath because of this? Totally justified. Even declare war would not have been completely beyond reason. But killing Elu? Killing the king of a realm that was their ally while said king was alone and unarmed among them? There is no law within Middle-Earth that would condone that, safe perhaps that of the Orcs.

Was Elu legally in the right, then? To refuse them payment altogether after they had claimed the Silmaril? I would still say no, because whatever happened after, the work had been done, a work he very much intended to keep, so payment was due. Nonetheless, the Dwarves had done something very problematic in asking for the Nauglamir as payment for their labour. I have no idea what would have been just in that situation, and I am also quite sure that it would not have mattered. Elu could never have given up the Silmaril, and the Dwarves would not have left without it. They knew from the moment they asked that Elu Thingol would not live, and I would hazard a guess that their asking was not borne of a sudden impulse, but of planning and scheming, probably from the moment they accepted the commissary. And that -whatever his faults- makes the Dwarves the wrongdoers here, not Elu Thingol. They were the aggressors. It was they who refused to hand over the finished Nauglamir (and were thus the first to break the contract), and they who murdered. And here we have the aforementioned influence of that incident- this is the reason Celeborn insists on having Gimli blindfolded when he passes into Lothlórien. This is the reason for Thranduil’s initial wariness of Thorin and his company. They usually ‘inherit’ the accusation of being racist, but in their case, it is even less warranted (apart from racism again being the wrong term here). They both witnessed how Dwarves, who had been their allies, murdered their king, and then came back to destroy their city. Who can honestly blame them for being wary?

There is also another aspect that must be considered concerning Elu Thingol’s last words, and that is the manner in which the ‘Ruin of Doriath’ was written.

We know that the Silmarillion in the way it is published today was not written by J.R.R. Tolkien, but edited and put together by his son Christopher, who was appointed his father’s literary executor by none other than J.R.R. Tolkien himself, and who took his job very very seriously. I would dare to say that there was no other person in this world who knew Tolkien’s works and legendarium as well as Christopher did. But for all he knew about the works and intents of his father, Christopher still had gaps and discrepancies to fill that he simply could not fill, not without being able to ask his father’s advice, and one of these gaps was ‘Of the Ruin of Doriath’. J.R.R. Tolkien had, quite early, written the version of Elu Thingol’s death that can today be read in the Book of Lost Tales II, here from now on referred to as BoLT2. In that version, both Elu -in that version still Tinwelint- and the Dwarves play very dirty, trying to cheat the other party out of the dragon-cursed treasure. In this version, the Dwarves’ claim on the Silmaril is not followed immediately by Tinwelint’s death, but by the expulsion of the Dwarves from Atanor (which is the forerunner of Doriath). The Dwarves, not at all unjustly angered by the fact that while they did the work they were asked to do, they never got any payment, scheme a plan to reclaim what they are convinced is theirs, and lure Tinwelint out on a hunt, conspiring with some Elves who would see their kingdom ended in exchange for riches. On this hunt Tinwelint and his companions are attacked, and the king is slain.

Quite luckily -in my opinion- Tolkien heartily disliked this version, and altogether discarded it, which after his death left Christopher in a dilemma: he knew that Doriath had to fall with Dior its king, knew the Silmaril had to come to Eärendil, knew that it must be the Dwarves who kill Elu Thingol because that much is mentioned or hinted in the already published work, but he was left without that part of the story.

And there Christopher did something rather astonishing and asked someone else, the American author Guy Kay, to help write this missing chapter, while simultaneously sticking close to what original material they had, and honouring J.R.R. Tolkien’s wish to not use the version of the ruin of Doriath he had already written. And they did exceptionally well on the whole, staying true to the characters and their fates, while avoiding to lay too much blame on one of the parties and thankfully leaving out all the dirty play and double-dealings (and the beheading). The Dwarves still murder, but they do so in affect, and after being angered, while on the other hand Elu does not try to cheat them out of their wages, at least not for the sake of cheating them out of their wages. It is no-one’s fault, but a thing that happens when dealing with objects touched by Morgoth, or a dragon, which is a theme that is consistent throughout the Silmarillion. Were it not for this one insult.

That line (Silmarillion, 1999, 279) was one J.R.R. Tolkien had written himself, and himself put it into Tinwelint’s mouth, and they used it, overlooking that it had not aged well at all, neither in the legendarium itself nor in the real world. Originally, Tinwelint says those words to Úrin, the forerunner of Húrin Thalion. There, those words make a little more sense, simply because unlike the Dwarves, with whom Elu Thingol had dealings for many centuries, Men had his ardent dislike.

But there is more to it than just the fact that the addressee was changed. Tinwelint is not Elu Thingol, even if he is his forerunner. Tinwelint belongs in the BoLT, where the characters still behave in a manner we know from ancient myths- a little full of themselves, a little pompous, a little (or more) self-righteous, with the overall language still much more archaic. But Tolkien’s characters have long since moved on to much gentler, much more self-reflecting beings, and Elu Thingol is no exception to that.

Another editing choice that contributes to this quote being especially unpleasant is the translation of the word ‘Naugrim’ into English. It literally means the stunted people, but having it translated further emphasises the insult of the Sindarin term for “Dwarves”. It may also be noted here that the Quenya word ‘Naucor’ (Parf Edhellen) has the exact same meaning.

Passing on from all the instances where racism is the wrong word to use, I would like to turn the attention to Elu Thingol’s dealings with the Noldor, for in this case, racism actually might occur, and is displayed, only not by Elu Thingol and his people, but against them.

Among all the elf-lords, Elu Thingol is the one who least displays any prejudice against other Elves. For one, already at the beginning of their journey (and with it Elvish history as we know it), he is close friends with Finwë, who is of another tribe. He is the one -if we believe what is written in the Nature of Middle-Earth (NoME, 2021, page 97)- who is least aggressive when it comes to convincing his people to follow him, and actively encourages them to choose for themselves. It is his people who are later called names (names that stuck, by the way. The Teleri, those that tarry. This is name-calling that most certainly did not come from the tribe of the Nelyar itself).

Later, when Elu Thingol had already established his realm with Melian by his side, he also welcomes the Nandor gladly as sundered kin, with no word of any ‘you are less because you abandoned the journey, or because you have not lived under Melian’s direct influence’.

On the other hand, the Noldor come to Middle-Earth in search of free lands to govern (Silmarillion, 1999, page 89), sweetly ignoring that those lands are already governed, both before and after their arrival. They set Elu’s claim on his land to nil and build their own kingdoms. Yes, it is true that Elu Thingol is unable to defend his land on his own at the time the Noldor arrive. But that does not give them leave to just take the lands. That does not make void Elu’s claim on the realm he ruled for three millennia.

It is also the Sons of Fëanor who clearly view not only the Sindar, but the Teleri as a whole as their inferiors. The kinslaying at Alqualondë is an open display of that, but while this can still be viewed as a conflict that got out of hands, the later burning of the ships at Losgar -and we might remember here that Olwë explicitly told Fëanor that those ships were as sacred to the Falmari as their gems are to the Noldor- most certainly was motivated by disregard for those Fëanor thought lesser.

That Maedhros later openly declares not to acknowledge Elu’s rule and Carathir calls him ‘this Darkelf in his caves’ (Silmarillion, 1999, page 127), which is not only racist but blatantly uneducated, rather fits this picture. Elu never, ever, descends to such levels.

Still, interestingly, it is Elu Thingol who is viewed by fandom at the racist one, for not welcoming the Noldor with open arms. And he does not do more than that. He just makes it very clear that they are a) in his realm and not behaving one bit, and b) a bit silly for thinking that they could honestly conquer Morgoth. And he is objectively right in both diagnosis.

Elu Thingol and misogyny

The by far most common thing Elu Thingol is accused of is that he does not listen to Melian, despite her being a Maia and thus so much wiser than him. This conception even finds its way into official character portraits and academic papers. It is repeated so often that no-one seems to question it anymore, taking it as part of Melian’s and Elu’s characters that he is a prideful and vain and does not value his wife as he should, even though she is one of the Divine, and that Melian is some sort of Cassandra-figure, which she really is not. She has her fair share in all that goes on in the Silmarillion- everything that goes well, but also everything that goes wrong. She makes mistakes, or misinterprets things, and at least judging from her reaction to Lúthien returning to Doriath a mortal, her foresight is by no means complete, very likely especially not where her loved ones are concerned.

But what does canon say? What evidence do we have that supports or contradicts this fanon?

Well, we do have the few occasions in which Elu downright ignores what Melian says, and all of them are more or less explainable. Melian counsels him to give up the Silmaril when the sons of Fëanor come to ask for it, which he does not, but it is a close call. And it is really worth looking at this situation a little more closely.

At first glance, the situation seems very clear- Melian in her foresight is wary of the Silmaril and advises her husband to give it to its ‘rightful’ owners. He refuses because he wants the Silmaril for himself.

While this is a perfectly fine way to read and interpret it, it is not the only possible interpretation. If we look more closely, we discover that things are not so simple after all.

For one, I would highly challenge the view that Melian’s counsel was driven by foresight. Had it been so, she would have counselled her husband to keep the Silmaril rather than give it away, because there can be no doubt in my mind that the Evenstar was meant to be, and it could not have been without the Silmaril passing down to Elwing, who then gives it to her husband. The consequences of the Silmaril not reaching Eärendil would have been disastrous not only for the War of Wrath, but also for later Ages. So foresight on behalf of the greater good was most certainly not what drove Melian.

Likewise, it seems highly unlikely that she suddenly took a liking to the sons of Fëanor after being so defiant towards them earlier. And if she truly believed that the Silmaril belonged to the sons of Fëanor, the most obvious thing would have been for her to send them the Silmaril after her husband’s death. But that she does not, she tells Mablung that it needs to be kept safe. So the gem was on her thought even in those moments of grief and shock, it is not that she simply did not care in that instant. From that we can deduce that her advice to pass the Silmaril on to the Fëanorians was not borne of the wish for them to have it, but from the desperate attempt to have it gone from Doriath, to keep her realm -but likely most importantly her husband- safe, to avert the Doom of Mandos from them all.

Looking at Elu’s side of things, it might of course be that it was purely greed that drove him. It most certainly was in earlier drafts, when greed and over-confidence were very common amongst all characters of the legendarium. I mentioned this before when briefly discussing the transition from Tinwelint to the Elu Thingol we encounter in the published Silmarillion. And while greed is one explanation for Elu’s behaviour, it is again not the only one, and I would invite readers to consider other options as well.

There can be no doubt whatsoever that the Silmaril has a profound effect on Elu Thingol, but that it is very understandable, if only we pause and consider what the Silmaril represents for Elu- apart from being an object so pure and beautiful that almost everyone wants to be close to it. Elu has seen the light of the Trees together with Finwë in his youth, only to never again reach Aman. I do not think he regretted his choice, I think he would choose Melian over Aman time and time again, but still he missed the light of the Trees. And by the time he acquires the Silmaril, the Trees are slain, and their light is no more, safe only in the Silmarils. Simultaneously, Finwë is dead, a pain that is mostly glossed over in the Silmarillion safe for a short sidenote, but which must have been profound, given that Elwë’s primary reason for wanting to go to Aman at all was that Finwë was going (NoME, 2021, page 97). And Finwë was murdered for the Silmaril, so I really cannot imagine that Elu did not feel at least a partial connection through the Silmaril there. Then there is the fact that he himself named the Silmaril in folly, agreeing on it being the bride-price for Lúthien. He sent Beren to fetch it, and so inadvertently caused not only Lúthien’s ultimate death, but Beren’s, too, and Finrod’s, though Finrod, at least, he may still be able to ask for forgiveness at some point in the future.

Looking at the Silmaril, therefore, must have been very painful for Elu Thingol. Yet still he loved the light within the jewel, and it was a comfort to him that he just could not forego, especially not so soon after Lúthien’s death. And while this seems paradox, it is not. He would not have been the first parent, nor the last, who slipped into some sort of addiction after the loss of a child, and once that vicious circle of shame, guilt and comfort is entered, it is desperately hard to break out of. Elu falling so thoroughly under the influence of the Silmaril always reminds me of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s Le Petit Prince and the scene where the little Prince meets the drinker, who drinks to forget that he is ashamed for drinking.

He might well have heeded Melian’s advice to give it to the sons of Fëanor nonetheless, had only Maedhros had a tad more manners (Silmarillion, 1999, page 223). And to be fair here, giving the Silmaril to the sons of Fëanor would have wronged quite as many people as keeping it. What brother would Elu have been had he rewarded those who assailed Olwë’s city, killed his people, stole their ships and then burned them out of spite? For these crimes alone, Elu would have been perfectly entitled to take the Silmaril as weregild. He never did that, and that is part of the problem, but he easily could have. Another person who would have been wronged was his own daughter, his own daughter who had just died. I doubt that many parents would give the people who had attempted to kidnap, imprison and kill their daughter what they want.

The other occasion on which Elu Thingol outright refuses Melian’s counsel is when Morwen accuses him of holding her prisoner, a scene only closely described in the Children of Húrin. He actively seeks Melian’s opinion in that case, because Morwen seems quite deranged to him, and Melian tells him what he already knows, that while the Girdle can keep out many unwanted visitors, it cannot hold anyone in Doriath who wishes to leave. That would be Elu’s part, in other words, he would have to execute his power as king and imprison Morwen, which is what Melian wants him to do. She wants Morwen kept in Doriath because she foresees how much evil will come of Morwen’s lack of impulse-control where Túrin is concerned. We know that Elu does not act on this advice, but this time, we readers have a much easier time to understand why- once before has he held someone he loved prisoner for what he perceived to be their own good, with disastrous consequences. And whatever the fandom wants to think of Elu, he does learn from his mistakes. He will not hold someone else against their will ever again.

There is of course the incident when Beren arrives in Menegroth, probably the scene most people think of first when talking about Elu never listening to Melian. But there, he strictly speaking does listen. She tells him that ‘not by your hand Beren shall be slain’ (Silmarillion, 1999, page 195), and he heeds that (though admittedly also because he has sworn to Lúthien that he would not lay hand on Beren). He does not, in fact, send Beren to his death, he demands something he deems entirely impossible, but Beren is not obliged to actually go to Angband. He is free to turn away, and seek love among his own people, and live out his life as though he had never set foot in Doriath. And while we know of course that that was entirely impossible, that Beren could not have lived without Lúthien, it is not at all unreasonable. Amidst both Elves and Men, love-interests are not always rewarded with long-standing relationships, and people do have to deal with that and live on. And Beren was always free to do that, which was perhaps what Elu expected him to do.

When looking at the scene now especially regarding Melian’s advice- they suffered a major breakdown of communication here. From Melian’s point of view, her advice made perfect sense, she knew -and foretold it to Galadriel- that there would be one of the house of Bëor that would not be halted by her Girdle, because his doom would be greater than her powers. This was not about her will, but about the will of Ilúvatar, which she would not challenge. She knew that Beren and Lúthien had to be, even if she was not aware of the consequences of their union, namely Lúthien foregoing immortality. Melian knew that there was no foul play at work.

Only it seems that she did not tell her husband that. Elu did not know, to him -seeing how much faith he put into his wife’s powers and the Girdle- the only plausible explanation for Beren passing through the Girdle was that Morgoth’s powers were behind it. Which also fitted his confirmation bias, as he already suspected Men to be corrupted by Morgoth- as mentioned earlier not entirely unreasonably.

We could speculate how said breakdown of communication happened, but I doubt we would find a definite answer. I only think that we can rule out any evil intent. But that really is not the subject of this paper beyond the point that the relationship between Melian and Elu Thingol was far more complex, and far more equal than fandom usually depicts it. Melian was by no means giving herself up to her perceived Cassandra-fate. Her reaction when Elu later asked her for help shows that beautifully- she tells him to deal with the mess he caused on his own. This scene drew a smile from my lips when I first read it, as it is such a very healthy and relatable reaction.

So by and large, the accusation that Elu does not listen to his wife -especially with the implication that he did so out of a general disrespect for women- does not hold up. For he does, for example when Melian counsels him that the peace will not endure, which leads to the building of Menegroth. She also tells him to be careful about the Noldor in general, and there, too, he takes her advice. And at the end of the day, they were, for all their shared power, just a normal couple. And no couple -not even one that is bound by such profound love as Melian and Elu- will always follow each other’s advice.

The topic of Beren and Lúthien leads seamlessly towards his behaviour towards Lúthien.

There are two aspects to this issue- for on the whole, Elu Thingol was the very contrary of a misogynist, given that he was the only one among the Kings of the Eldar who had a queen by his side that actually ruled. When we look at the Noldor, we see quite a different picture. Queens play no role in Noldorin culture. When Míriel died, she was mourned only as Finwë’s wife, not as the queen of the Noldor. Fingolfin left without his wife altogether. The only one who might have been an exception was Turgon, but for one thing, we do not know that, we can only speculate, and for another, he was married to a Vanya, so this was not a purely Noldorin relationship.

But apart from the fact that Melian ruled beside Elu, there is also the point of him being married to a woman that was so much more powerful than him, and no sexist or misogynist man would do that. So generally speaking, the question about his attitude towards women in general is easily answered.

But what about Lúthien?

There are no records of any Elf being disappointed by having a daughter only, as this is a very human thing to feel, so the fact that Elu valued Lúthien “above all the princes of the Elves” (Silmarillion, 1999, page 194) is nothing we need to point out specifically. She was his only child, and he loved her dearly. And for the longest time, Lúthien lived a life in freedom, freedom even from the duties that one would have suspected the Princess of Beleriand to have. But she could do as she pleased, roam the woods and dance to Daeron’s flute. This freedom is interesting, at least on second thought. She was some three thousand years old at the time she met Beren, way past the age in which Elves usually marry. But she stayed a maiden, and that tells us actually quite a lot about the way Elu viewed her. Of course, Elvish marriages cannot and will not be forced, but still, her choice to remain unmarried is significant. After all, she was the only child of Melian and Elu Thingol, and though Elves do not need heirs the same way humans do, they still need them, if they want to uphold a kingdom. We do not know whether Sindarin law would have permitted her to succeed her father to the throne in the case of Elu’s death (Melian being exempted from ruling alone by the restriction put on the Ainur in regard of rule over the Children of Ilúvatar), but even if not, she would likely still have been expected to marry and produce an heir to the throne, which she did in the end. But there is no hint of that burden laid on her anywhere, not even in the oldest and crudest sketches of the story, which shows that Elu did by no means view his daughter’s love life as something he could rule over. Not even if that meant that the realm would be left without a king should anything happen to him, and that even in a time before the Girdle, when he was by far not as invincible as he appeared later on.

Only when Beren comes to Doriath does Elu’s attitude towards Lúthien change. We readers are upset by this, and are meant to be upset, because Beren is the protagonist in this fairytale, Elu clearly the antagonist. If we allow ourself to look past the fairytale, however, the perspective shifts somewhat. Because Elu Thingol’s attitude towards Beren is not as unfounded as the story makes us believe.

Again, Lúthien is his only child, and -frankly speaking- nothing short of a miracle. At this point, we must recall what Tolkien says about Elvish parenthood in the Laws and Customs among the Eldar (Morgoth’s Ring, 2015, page 221), published in Morgoth’s Ring, about the involvement of Elvish fathers. Unlike with humans, where fathers are largely absent from the reproductive work safe for the providing of sperm, Elvish fathers put a lot of their mental strength into that child, and their physical strength, too, even though the physical labour is still largely done by the mothers. Still, they support their wives, and are moreover already deeply involved in the begetting. And there is the catch with Lúthien now. Lúthien, while physically an Elf (as Melian has an Elvish body), is in Fëa still half-Maia, and infinitely more powerful than her father. To support the bearing of a child like that, Elu must have poured a lot of his strength into that begetting. Tolkien hints that in the Nature of Middle-Earth when he claims that Elwë was one of the strongest, (Nature of Middle-Earth, 2021, page 21) because he could actually support the union with an Ainu. And while of course no child is ever replaceable, I still find it very relatable that Elu (and Melian also) should have been more protective over Lúthien than other Elvish parents, and that they must have feared losing her even more keenly than every parent fears losing their child. Because losing one’s only child with no chance of ever having another, means not only losing that child -which by an in itself is the most painful experience any parent can go through- it also means losing parenthood altogether. That is a loss of its own accord.

And then there is also the fact (I really want to call this a trope, but real life-experience has taught me otherwise) that fathers generally tend to be more protective over their daughters than they are over their sons, especially when it comes to said daughter’s romantic relationships.

Furthermore, when trying to decide whether or not Elu’s actions towards Lúthien are misogynist or even sexist, it is quite interesting to pay a little attention to the actual wording in the dialogue between Beren and Elu. Because it is Beren who uses rather misogynist language, who is the one to time and again underestimate Lúthien, and who acts as though she needs his protection, rather than the other way round. It is Beren who talks about possessing Lúthien (Silmarillion, 1999, page 195), who puts a prize on her, so to say. Elu never goes to that level.

He calls Lúthien ‘his jewel’, directly comparing her to Fëanor’s Silmarils, which again hints a little towards Elu knowing that he can never do such a thing again, that Lúthien is really the one thing he is proud of achieving. And that says probably the most powerful ruler amongst Elves alive at that time, if we do not count High-King Ingwë. He is proud of the fact that she is his child. He also does not ‘sell’ Lúthien as a person, he explicitly sells his consent to her marriage. He says ‘but a father’s deeds, even were they rendered to me, do not suffice to win the hand of the daughter of Thingol and Melian’. This is not selling his daughter, that is telling Beren that a half-divine being is way, way beyond him. And -unromantically- he is not really wrong there. The only thing that is so infuriating to read is that Elu’s own love story is not so different, with Melian being just as much beyond him. This fact irks me, and I would guess the vast majority of other readers, too. But one might reason in his favour here, because while Melian certainly is beyond him, their marriage was not a wholly conscious decision by Elu, and he is moreover an immortal being as long as Arda exists, which, while not eternal, is still infinitely longer than a mortal’s lifespan.

When we look at his actions rather than his words, things get more questionable. There is no glossing over the fact that his imprisoning Lúthien is a disgusting thing to do, but also one that is entirely useless. Lúthien is half-Maia, and as such indefinitely more powerful than Elu Thingol himself. Is there any possibility that he could have thought his locking Lúthien in a treehouse might actually work? I cannot imagine it, honestly. Nor can I imagine that he thought even for a moment that Lúthien would play along with this. Within the text as we have it, and with the background information of how Elvish societies work, that action can be interpreted but as a fit of passion. Or else Elu just wanted to put his foot down, even though he knew that it was pointless- resembling human parents telling their children ‘I’m counting to three’, knowing perfectly well -as do their children- that absolutely nothing will happen when they reach three.

I think it likely that Elu knew perfectly well that Lúthien would find a way out sooner or later, and just tried to make his point and hope for the best. Which is a bit pathetic, but also very parent-like. Parents will do illogical and/or stupid things when they perceive their children in danger (which Elu certainly did in that situation). So there is the possibility that he just acted on impulse, just as later when he -for reasons best known to himself- thought it a good idea to declare war on Nargothrond. One can but shake one’s head in bewilderment, or at least I do. He did not have the military strength to do anything but get his people and himself killed, Nargothrond was his closest ally… just why? How? And how on earth did his lords and captains play along with that madness? Melian tells him that he can go and deal with what he has brought upon himself alone, why didn’t his counsellors do the same?

But then again, we might end up with just the solution that Of Beren and Lúthien is a fairytale within the Silmarillion, and that probably everything within it must be taken with a grain of salt. Looking at the history of the text would suggest likewise. The Tale of Beren and Lúthien is an old one, as mentioned before, and was therefore written in a time when Tolkien had not yet developed the finesse of his later world-building, and simply used this as part of the trope- which is, in my opinion, the most rational explanation.

Be be that as it may, I hope to have shown that Elu’s actions in the Tale of Beren and Lúthien, while stupid and ignorant, were not driven by the fact that Lúthien is a woman. They were driven by the fact that she is his only child.

Elu Thingol’s responsibility in the second and third kinslaying and the outcome of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad

Other allegations against Elu Thingol frequently to be seen in fanworks are more clearly Noldor- centred, the disasterous outcome of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the second and third kinslaying- in short all the consequences of his keeping the Silmaril, and of course his keeping the Silmaril in itself. I will not go into more detail here regarding the Silmaril itself, as I have already discussed the matter above. The question to whom the Silmaril ultimately belongs is unanswerable, and warrants a paper of its own. Here we reach the point where the narrative changes depending on whom the reader sides with. That Elu Thingol was little more than a thief for keeping the Silmaril, that he was at least in parts responsible for the kinslayings that followed, that he heavily influenced the outcome of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad are a valid way of interpreting the Silmarillion, especially if the reader identifies more with the Noldor. But once again, it is not the only valid interpretation.

I would argue that whether or not Doriath joined in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad would have made very little difference. Morgoth is a Vala, and no army of Elves can overcome him. It takes the Valar and the forces of Valinor to capture him and cast him through the Gates of Night. The forces of Doriath would not have changed the ultimate outcome of that battle.

Was Elu a coward for not joining? Perhaps, yes. But he was also a king who would not see his people slain in vain, who did not believe himself so mighty that he could truly challenge Morgoth. To me, that makes him a good king, because I am deeply convinced that war is an evil, and not a necessary one. To fight a war that cannot be won is, in my opinion, nothing short of stupid.

As for the claim, the one that Elu is responsible for the second and third kinslaying- this is the most upsetting to me. Not so much because it is strictly speaking false, but because it is victim-blaming par excellence. Of course, most of the blame is still directed towards Dior and Elwing, but still Elu gets his share, too.

And it keeps me puzzled, since both the second and third kinslaying happened after his death, and in no way in which could he have foreseen them. Yes, he knew about Alqualondë and of the Oath of Fëanor -at least in parts- , but while he lived, the Girdle stood impenetrable. And in the case of his death, he must have assumed that Melian would let the sons of Fëanor have the Silmaril, seeing how she had counselled him to give it to them earlier.

The Quenya-ban

The last claim by fandom I want to take up is that the Quenya-ban was nothing short of linguistic genocide against the Noldor. This is an outrageous claim, that shows how heavily biased the fandom is in favour of the Noldor. As I already explained that an academic definition of Linguistic Genocide cannot be applied to the Quenya-ban, there is little to be added to the subject. I would like, however, to put it into a wider context of phenomena impacting cultural developments, by looking at a related issue.

Governments -most often right-winged ones- tend to put pressure on immigrants by forcing them to use the official language only. This, while not strictly speaking linguistic genocide, aims at the same thing, namely at assimilation, and this could be compared to the Quenya-ban.

There are still some major differences. One of the most problematic aspects of keeping people from speaking their native language is the actual loss of language. We need to learn our native tongue first, and learn it properly, before we can truly learn any other language. Otherwise, so called semilingualism occurs, which poses a serious threat to people’s welfare, and that of their offspring, too. It also leaves people between the cultures- they lose their own, but do not gain the ‘new’ one, and so are left in a state in-between. And this is a dangerous place to be.

The Quenya-ban does not do that. Elves will not forget their native language, because there are not so many generations of Elves. The Quenya-ban was officially active for about 500 years, which is a laughably short period for Elves. The only people truly affected by the ban in the way of semilingualism would have been Noldorin children born in Beleriand (apart from Gondolin). Seeing that Elves do not beget children in times of war, I would guess there were not many.

I want to emphasise here that I do not agree with political parties hollering at immigrants to stop using their own language and use the language of the country they migrated to. Each person has the right to their own language. But this is not what happened in First Age-Beleriand. The Noldor were not immigrants, they were colonialists (again, the Sindar were the Native People of Beleriand) and they had committed a serious crime against the royal house of Doriath itself. Elu was very much entitled to ask for weregild, or else declare war on the Noldor to avenge his brother’s people (which once had been his own people), but he did neither. He opted for an entirely un-bloody way of punishment, one that had very little real impact on the Noldor’s day-to-day life, as Sindarin was already the common language in mixed groups because it was easier for the Noldor to learn Sindarin than it was for the Sindar to learn Quenya. And among themselves the Noldor could still speak whatever language they liked, because the ban always ever referred to dealings with the Sindar.

Conclusion

So why does fandom view Elu Thingol so critically, then? For one, we do tend to view all of Tolkien’s Elves through both a very human (naturally) and a present-time lense, which does lead to misconceptions. Still, it seems that Elu Thingol and the Sindar suffer from this point of view especially.

Maybe this is because of the aforementioned trend in fandoms to favour characters who are depicted as villains or morally grey characters. It seems that Elu Thingol falls prey to this trend in particular, as he is too obviously liked and favoured by Tolkien to be of any redeeming interest, while still having too many flaws and being overall too unlikable to be one of fandom’s darlings regardless of author’s opinions (like Finrod, for example). Then again, to the ardent supporters of Tolkien’s views, he will always remain the antagonist within the Tale of Beren and Lúthien. In fandom as within the story, Elu Thingol cannot win, nor can he do anything right.

His cause is not helped, either, by the story almost always showing him in rather compromising situations. Had we had dialogues or closer descriptions of the kinslayings, perhaps the sons of Fëanor would not be so glorified. Had we had any dialogue of the time Caranthir did not care at all for the humans living and dying in his lands, fandom might not make a ship out of Caranthir and Haleth just because ‘he looked kindly upon her’ and offered her his help.

Another contributing factor to fandom seeing Elu Thingol so critically is that he is-whether we want to admit that or not- a very relatable character. Few of us will commit a capital crime, be exiled for it and then wage war against the devil himself. We will not cut dangling friends off cliffs, we will not challenge said devil in single combat. About our normal lives, no songs will be sung. Who cares that Maglor murdered before he became Elrond and Elros’ foster father? Who cares whether Fingolfin outright abandoned his people out of a sudden madness? Who cares that Celebrimbor was blinded by his own genius, failing to look through Sauron like the other Elflords and -ladies did. But these are far away heroes, so distant that we cannot truly relate to them. With Elu Thingol, that is an altogether different thing.

His conflict with his daughter is one that so many of us experience, in one role or the other. Saying things in the heat of arguments that we bitterly regret later is an experience almost everyone makes. And that is very uncomfortable, because Elu does pay the ultimate price for his shortcomings as a father, and that is a terrifying possibility. The mere thought of making a mistake that costs the life of one’s child might well be the universal worst nightmare of parents. And the idea of that mistake being something so trivial, so mundane is almost unthinkable.

But why does it matter how readers view Elu Thingol? Why cannot fandom simply have characters it dislikes, and be fine with it?

Well, first of all, of course it can, and will, and that is perfectly fine. But I still feel that it is worth trying to encourage readers to view Elu Thingol a little more diversely, because in himself, he is a very Tolkienesque character, and also, despite being an Elf, a very human one. He is not a hero. He does not live up to his full potential. After all, he is called the mightiest among the Eldar safe Fëanor only. He is married to a higher being, which is quite a thing, given that Elvish marriages are bonds of the spirit, also. And yet, in the wars that rock Beleriand, he becomes wholly insignificant. His realm falls like the other realms fall, and he does not survive the First Age any more than the vast majority of named characters. He makes mistakes and falls to his flaws like the next man, screws up the relationship to his daughter, manages to undo everything he has worked hard to establish. He dies alone, a broken man, and in a situation that he absolutely brought upon himself.

But that, sadly, is how the majority of lives go. So few of us become who we might have been, and even those who do more often than not break under the pressure of holding  up these expectations. We learn the hard way that as parents, we do exactly the things we have sworn to ourselves as children we would never do. And we often fail despite giving it our all, despite trying to improve, despite doing everything as well as we possibly can. This is a hard lesson and not one that we like to learn. But these traits are so typical for Tolkien’s characters, and that is the beauty of his writings. Frodo fails in the end, at the seemingly easiest part of his journey. Boromir finds himself in a situation he cannot bring to a satisfactory end. Denethor breaks under his own high principles. Thorin succumbs to his greed, in the very moment kingship is again his. Arwen learns at the very end that she perhaps made her choice a little too lightly a little too early.

Elu Thingol is also a character that hugely influences the narrative of Middle-Earth, both through his actions and even more importantly through his legacy, and how we view him and his actions influences how we view Tolkien’s works at large. And that, if nothing else, makes taking a closer look worthwhile.

Bibliography

Sources:

• Jewels= Tolkien, J.R.R; Tolkien, C. (ed.), (2015,1994¹), The History of Middle-Earth Vol.11: The War of the Jewels, London: HarperCollins
• Morgoth’s Ring= Tolkien, J.R.R.; Tolkien, C. (ed.), (2015, 1993¹), The History of Middle-Earth Vol.10: Morgoth’s Ring, London: HarperCollins
• Silmarillion= Tolkien, J.R.R.; Tolkien, C. (ed.), (1999, 1977¹), The Silmarillion, London: Allen&Unwin (1999 edition by HarperCollins)
• BoLT= Tolkien, J.R.R.; Tolkien, C. (ed.), (2015,1984¹), The History of Middle-Earth Vol.2:  The Book of Lost Tales, Part Two, London: Allen&Unwin (2015 edition by HarperCollins)
• NoME= Tolkien, J.R.R.; Hostetter, C. (ed.), (2021), The Nature of Middle-Earth, London: HarperCollins

Secondary literature

• Walls-Thumma, Dawn, ‘The Silmarillion: Who Speaks?’, https://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/node/8000/single?page=3
• Laakso, Johanna (2016). Metadiversity, or the uniqueness of the lambs. In Reetta Toivanen & Janne Saarikivi (eds.), New and Old Language Diversities – Linguistic Genocide or Superdiversity?  Bristol / Buffalo / Toronto: Multilingual Matters, 289–299.