[Son of Númenor]

One of my favourite excerpts from the Letters come from Letter 96, addressed to Christopher Tolkien on the 30th of January, 1945.

For myself, I was prob. most moved by Sam's disquisition on the seamless web of story, and by the scene when Frodo goes to sleep on his breast, and the tragedy of Gollum who at that moment came within a hair of repentance - but for one rough word from Sam. But the 'moving' quality of that is on on a different plane to Celebrimbor etc. There are two quite diff. emotions: one that moves me supremely and I find small difficulty in evoking: the heart-racking sense of the vanished past (best expressed in Gandalf's words about the Palantir); and the other the more 'ordinary' emotion, triumph, pathos, tragedy of the characters. That I am learning to do, as I get to know my people, but it is not really so near my heart, and is forced on me by the fundamental literary dilemma. A story must be told or there'll be no story, yet it is the untold stories that are most moving. I think that you are moved by Celebrimbor because it conveys a sense of endless untold stories: mountains seen far away, never to be climbed, distant trees (like Niggle's) never to be approached - or if so only to become 'near trees' (unless in the Paradise of N's Parish) (Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 110-111) (emphasis mine)

I placed emphasis on Tolkien's account of these "untold stories" and the "heart-racking sense of the vanished past" he describes because these qualities are what draw me to The Silmarillion - and really to Middle-earth as a whole. His works often evoke in me a longing for the history he is describing to become a reality, and for stories to be revealed that Tolkien left untold but hinted at within the history. The idea of the Long Defeat appears in my mind when I read certain passages from Tolkien's works, and subsequent to the appearance of this idea comes the longing for a 'higher' time, a time before Man's decline. Another passage from the same letter describes (for me) this longing for that 'higher time'. Though I should note that the passage in question is in reference to Man's Loss of Eden (Adam & Eve's lives in Eden being in this case the 'higher time'), the same concept of the 'decline' is stil present, since Tolkien's views on this Loss are inseparably linked with his idea of the Long Defeat, and thus, ultimately, are a fundamental aspect of Middle-earth.

["The Eden 'myth'"] has not, of course, historicity of the same kind as the NT [New Testament], which are virtually contemporary documents, while Genesis is separated by we do not know how many sad exiled generations from the Fall, but certainly there was an Eden on this very unhappy earth. We all long for it, and are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most humane, is still soaked with the sense of 'exile.' If you come to think of it, your (very just) horror at the stupid murder of a hawk, and your obstinate memory of this 'home' of yours in an idyllic hour (when often there is an illusion of the stay of time and decay and a sense of gentle peace - [would that I were]*, stands the clock at ten to three, and is there honey still for tea' - are derived from Eden. As far as we can go back the nobler part of the human mind is filled with the thoughts of sibb, peace and goodwill, and with the thought of its loss. We shall never recover it, for that is not the way of repentance, which works spirally and not in a closed circle; we may recover something like it, but on a higher plane. Just as (to compare a small thing) the converted urban gets more out of the country than the mere yokel, but he cannot become a real landsman, he is both more and in a way less (less truly earthy anyway)" (Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, 110).

The "way of repentance" that Tolkien describes is exemplified perfectly in The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings. Melkor's marring of Arda marks the first decline. Melkor's theft of the Silmarils marks the second, an end to the blissful days of Valinor. The Kin-slaying, the Doom of Mandos, the abandoment of Fingolfin's people at the Helcaraxe, the war against Morgoth, the passing of Luthien, the re-shaping of Arda and the loss of the Silmarils all contribute to this decline, even though evil is not ultimately 'victorious' in The Silmarillion. In the Fall of Númenor, we see the irreversible decline in Men. This decline is furthered by the death of Earnur. In Aragorn's ascension to the throne of Gondor, the decline in Men is reversed to a very limited extent, and the time of Man is ushered in, but the Elves pass away into the West, and Middle-earth is irreversibly diminished.

The "heart-racking sense" of loss and decline that Tolkien describes is for me akin if not equal to the "enchantment" which was discussed in Fordim's 'Canonicity' thread. To append my feelings about the above excerpts from the Letters and the emotions which it describes, here is a quote from Davem from the aforementioned 'Canonicity' discussion:

Its this sense of 'familiarity' we feel about Middle Earth that is difficult to explain. Can we go so far as to say that we are 'remembering' something, some 'real' (in 'inner' or 'outer' terms. This would be ridiculous, if not insane, yet the feeling is there. Why do so many of us feel 'at home' in Middle Earth, even before we've got far into a first reading? Is it because Tolkien has used so many elements from folklore & fairtales? But how many of us are all that familiar with the sources Tolkien used? Not that many, I'd guess. In my case it was only after discovering Middle Earth that I sought out the sources Tolkien used, & I didn't feel 'at home' in the worlds of the Mabinogion or the Eddas or the kalevala. They reminded me of Middle Earth, where I really did feel 'at home'. It was almost as if Middle Earth was the real place & the myths & legends were corrupt, half remembered versions of it, rather than it being an amalgam of them. Of course, that could simply be because I discovered Middle Earth first - but I can't help feeling that it was something more.

Indeed there is something more to Middle-earth, and what it is I cannot say. It is the depth of tragedy and joy. It is the reality of the 'decline' in our own world, in our own lives, and its poignance in the Secondary World that Tolkien created. I chose to share these excerpts from the Letters because I feel that they summarize this elusive enchantment that keeps me attached to Middle-earth.