The unfriendliness of Elves

[Sharkû]

Elves are, not least due to their stay (at least of some leading persons of them) well aware of the privileges, abilities and attributes of their race. As Iluvatar is said to have put it, they are the 'fairest of all earthly creatures' (Silm, 1). No elf, even if he could be considered a rebel or be accused of nefarious deeds, would, on the other hand, see himself as truly evil. The majority of the elves remains unfallen, the others for the largest part had their reasons for their actions, too, even if they were directed against the Valar. The nobility, splendour and beauty of elves therefore is dialectical, both objectively – as concepted by Iluvatar and witnessed by the Ainur – and subjectively, manifested in their arrogance, longing for a changeless, status quo-preservation, and sometimes, their self-righteousness.

Likewise is the nature of Man, and how the elves see it. In the Silmarillion, Chapter 1, we have the straightforward sentence
'Yet the Elves believe that Men are often a grief to Manwë, […] for it seems to the Elves that Men resemble Melkor most of all the Ainur […]'.
Of course they are to a considerable degree right with that assumption, as only men ever had multitudes serving (more or less willingly, though) the Dark Lords. The understanding of nature, the way of life and the metaphysics which the elves possess both from their education in Valinor and also apparently intuitively, is not compatible with the actions of many of mankind.
Here the fate of men is also important to be taken into the scheme, as it poses not only one reason for their estranging from the elves, but also often serves as a logical explanation of the behaviour of Man, whose point of view is limited to their short lifespans and to a past traditioned rather in rows of ancestors and the tales of their doings than in actual memory as is the case with elves.

The question to what degree the emnity from the elves towards the Strangers is justified naturally arises. Of course, there is enough emnity working the other way round, as is shown in all three ages, be it the alliances of Easterlings with Morgoth, the mistrust of the men of the King of later Numenor towards the elves, or the image of Lothlorien we see in Rohan and Gondor. On the other hand, one would have to argumentate that the elves as the side which has more insight, and more foresight as well, may not exact likewise sentiments on the men as they do on them. With a differentiated approach, the actual emnity of the elves seems questionable. Protection from harm is justified, and sometimes it was not only the elves protecting themselves from men, but also them lending aid to them. The fact that military aid, for example, was practically always denied with the arguments that the elves had own affairs to deal with, even though they had previously received mortal reinforcements in likewise situations, is a different topic.
Conclusively, there are a good number of reasons for the elves mistrust of the Atani, and most of these reasons work the other way round, too. What justifications both sides have is something else; one might argue that the one who exacts more emnity would have to have the better reasons as well.

[Bêthberry]

Originally Posted by Sharkû

No elf, even if he could be considered a rebel or be accused of nefarious deeds, would, on the other hand, see himself as truly evil. ...

In the Silmarillion, Chapter 1, we have the straightforward sentence
'Yet the Elves believe that Men are often a grief to Manwë, […] for it seems to the Elves that Men resemble Melkor most of all the Ainur […]'.

But isn't this in fact one of the most significant factors about those who have fallen to evil, that they themselves cannot see themselves as evil? Was this not supposed to be Saruman's problem, that he was unable to see how his delight for lore led him to use that lore the wrong way?

And, secondly, it is always easier to absolve oneself of error if one can point fingers towards others and accuse them of greater error. Let he who is without sin cast ...

The problem seems to be that none of the creations are in fact as perfect as the creator, assuming the creator to be perfect as we have been told.

[Maédhros]

After so much bitterness, war and loss of their own kin, it must have been a triple blow to see a beloved "child" die in what seemed a relatively brief time of existance.
I too, would have been left mourning, and not wanting to strike up more friendships with these short-lived peoples if I had lost one to whom I had tremendous love for.

This reminds me of the Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth

'Across the gulf that divides our kindreds!' said Andreth. 'Is there no bridge but mere words?' And then she wept again.
'There may be. For some. I do not know,' he said. 'The gulf, maybe, is between our fates rather, for else we are close akin, closer than any other creatures in the world. Yet perilous is it to cross a gulf set by doom; and should any do so, they will not find joy upon the other side, but the griefs of both. So I deem.
'But why dost thou say "mere words"? Do not words overpass the gulf between one life and another? Between thee and me surely more has passed than empty sound? Have we not drawn near at all? But that is, I think, little comfort to thee.'
'I have not asked for comfort,' said Andreth. 'For what do I need it?'
'For the doom of Men that has touched thee as a woman,' said Finrod. 'Dost thou think that I do not know? Is he not my brother dearly loved? Aegnor: Aikanár, the Sharp-flame, swift and eager. And not long are the years since you first met, and your hands touched in this darkness. Yet then thou wert a maiden, brave and eager, in the morning upon the high hills of Dorthonion.'
'Say on!' said Andreth. 'Say: who art now but a wise-woman, alone, and age that shall not touch him has already set winter's grey in thy hair! But say not thou to me, for so he once did!'
'Alas!' said Finrod. 'That is the bitterness, beloved adaneth, woman of Men, is it not? that has run through all your words. If I could speak any comfort, you would deem it lordly from one on my side of the sundering doom. But what can I say, save to remind you of the Hope that you yourself have revealed?'
'I did not say that it was ever my hope,' answered Andreth. 'And even were it so, I would still cry: why should this hurt come here and now? Why should we love you, and why should ye love us (if ye do), and yet set the gulf between?'
'Because we were so made, close kin,' said Finrod. 'But we did not make ourselves, and therefore we, the Eldar, did not set the gulf. Nay, adaneth, we are not lordly in this, but pitiful. That word will displease thee. Yet pity is of two kinds: one is of kinship recognized, and is near to love; the other is of difference of fortune perceived, and is near to pride. I speak of the former.'
'Speak of neither to me!' said Andreth. 'I desire neither. I was young and I looked on his flame, and now I am old and lost. He was young and his flame leaped towards me, but he turned away, and he is young still. Do candles pity moths?'
'Or moths candles, when the wind blows them out?' said Finrod. 'Adaneth, I tell thee, Aikanár the Sharp-flame loved thee. For thy sake now he will never take the hand of any bride of his own kindred, but live alone to the end, remembering the morning in the hills of Dorthonion. But too soon in the North-wind his flame will go out! Foresight is given to the Eldar in many things not far off, though seldom of joy, and I say to thee thou shalt live long in the order of your kind, and he will go forth before thee and he will not wish to return.'
Then Andreth stood up and stretched her hands to the fire. 'Then why did he turn away? Why leave me while I had still a few good years to spend?'
'Alas!' said Finrod. 'I fear the truth will not satisfy thee. The Eldar have one kind, and ye another; and each judges the others by themselves - until they learn, as do few. This is time of war, Andreth, and in such days the Elves do not wed or bear child; but prepare for death - or for flight. Aegnor has no trust (nor have I) in this siege of Angband that it will last long; and then what will become of this land? If his heart ruled, he would have wished to take thee and flee far away, east or south, forsaking his kin, and thine. Love and loyalty hold him to his. What of thee to thine? Thou hast said thyself that there is no escape by flight within the bounds of the world.'
'For one year, one day, of the flame I would have given all: kin, youth, and hope itself: adaneth I am,' said Andreth.
'That he knew,' said Finrod; 'and he withdrew and did not grasp what lay to his hand: elda he is. For such barters are paid for in anguish that cannot be guessed, until it comes, and in ignorance rather than in courage the Eldar judge that they are made.

[Rhod the Red]

I don't think it's unreasonable. Take the Third Age: Sauron has returned, Orcs are raiding Ithillian, Osgiliath has been taken and Moria and Mirkwood under seige by goblins.

Plus Rohan and Gondor don't communicate with the Elves, combined with whispering unfair rumours about the 'dangers' and 'perils' of seeking them out.

If you had uninvited visitors at the edge of your country in those times it woul;d be only fair to raise your bow and arrow and ask "What do you want?" wouldn't it?