[Kransha]

Eucatastrophe...eucatatastrophe...An interesting word, that.

I believe that the Silm is riddled with events that are somewhat glossed with a eucatastrophic hue of "paint" shall we say, but bears the true, deep-rooted bittersweetness of a Shakespearean tragedy. Myths do not require eucatastrophe, so the inevitable search for one may be flawed. Yes, I'll admit, many myths do have an overall morale, or an extra that is earned in the end. The Egyptian, Nordic, and Greek pre-polytheistic pantheons, those with the most well-recorded myths, besides the Hindu and Mesopatamian pantheonic faiths, ooze eucatastrophe, though not always on a grand scale. All myth generally has eucatastrophe in it, but sometimes it is a complete misdirection of the actual story. The Silm bears a similar trend, though the -eu- part of the catastrophe is somewhat lacking in vigor, or happiness.

The Quenta Silmarillion always intrigued me - almost always. I'm very much in the same boat as mark12_30, though I try not to admit the fact publicly. But, upon rereading and rereading, as a Tolkien lover simply must attempt, I've learned more. I was fascinated by the story of Túrin Turambar, the Master of Doom, Blacksword, Mormegil, Gorthol, Glaurung's Bane, and whatever his other names may be. I have not memorized, nor have I studied the tale in profuse detail. Túrin fascinated me because he bore the role of a tragic hero, and his tale lacked eucatastrophe in almost every regard. There is no silver lining for Húrin, Túrin, and Nienor Níniel. Túrin and his sister/accidental-wife end up doing something that no one else (of great importance or note) does. They simply kill themselves, albiet for understandable reasons. One could say that Maedhros and Denethor, from LotR did the same thing, but they were merely trying to alleviate a cumbersome and agonizing pain, mentally and physically. Túrin was cursed to a greater doom, one which he could not escape. Similarly, the Kinslaying at Alqualondë does not seem to have much of an upside. Feanor and his kin betrayed their brethren and massacred the Teleri. Then, they leave, and swear an oath that dooms him as well, along with his sons. Upside? No. Eucatastrophic? Apparently not.

But, what about OVERALL eucatastrophe? That's pretty evident. The Quenta Silmarillion does end on a heavy note, which is a no-no in orchestral organization, but not necessarily in storytelling. The Silmarillion is the life and lives that were lived before the happenstances we are familiar with, and bear both a darker and lighter side. It is creation, birth, and the first prosperings of Eldar and Edain. It has many moments where shadows loom, but what story does not? The grandiose Nordic acopalypse myth: that of Ragnarok, the World's Ending (ending pending...hey, that rhymes!), holds eucatastrophe, but one that is not exactly evident. At the end, everyone's dead, except two people. They're job is start the world anew. Will the world go on a be happy? Well, yes, but everyone's still dead, good guys and bad. The Silmarillion is much less drab than that, not that I would accuse the Nordic mythos of drabness. There are still people alive and not flooded with Gothic angst. That's basically one up on a lot of other legends, myths, and old spouses' tales.

So, one must consider what is eucatastrophic.
~The Trees (Laurelin and Telperion): Semi-eucatastrophic. Trees down, Silmarils still around. ~Thingol and Melian: Semi-eucatastrophic: Thingol's dead, but he got to hang with a Maia. ~The Flight of the Noldor:.....well, at least they got to Middle-Earth, right? ~Sons of Fëanor: Non-eucatastrophic. All dead. ~Beren and Lúthien: Definately eucatastrophic. Bad things happen, people die, but the two lovers end up together in the end, even if Lúthien Tinúviel lost her voice serenading Mandos and probably dislocated her hip after all that dancing. ~Túrin: Non-eucatastrophic. All dead. ~The Fall of Gondolin: Semi-eucatastrophic, solely because people are still alive. ~The Voyage of Eärendil: The finale of the Silmarillion, and the most eucatastrophic part in it. There is plenty of preternatural beauty to be had in this tale of love and of triumph, overall, which is followed by a war that functions pretty much as a deus ex machina, which Tolkien used aptly in this case. The final words, epilogueish, though they are not composed as such, basically state that the non-eucatastrophe of the Quenta Silmarillion should be taken at face value, as stated above.

My 2 kopeks, take 'em or leave 'em.