The sinking of Numenor - a lesson to whom?

[Gwathagor]

Originally Posted by Lalwendë

Would Eru be so petty as to try a school teacher trick of keeping the whole class behind because one of them has been shooting spit balls? Hmmm...

Perhaps the Numenorean people should never have existed at all; one could consider them a failed experiment on the part of the Valar, a phenomenon that defied went against too many facts of reality and that was, at its core, wrong. It had gone well at first, but eventually it became clear that Men were not meant to live in such privilege, so close to the Valar, with gifts of knowledge, strength, health, and the ability to die when they saw fit. It might seem callous or simplistic to just take the Numenoreans as a whole race, rather than on an individual basis, but this approach would be consistent with Tolkien's style of dealing with race in LOTR: he frequent relies on generalities. The Numenoreans had run their course, which really never should have been. In this light, Eru appears merciful for allowing a few of this problematic people group, this aberration, to continue.

(I've never thought about it this way before, and I haven't even entirely convinced myself yet - but I'm entertaining the notion.)

[Ibrîniðilpathânezel]

Again, taken in context with the biblical Yahweh, Eru comes off looking much less vengeful and spiteful...almost kindly, in a wrath of god, apocalyptic sense.

It does seem that the biggest mention of "wrath" is the War of Wrath, which was a label the Elves gave to the mobilization of the Valar against Morgoth -- which, if I'm recalling correctly, didn't really sit terribly well with Eru; He would have preferred them to move against Melkor much sooner, and trust Him to protect the Eruhini rather than remove the Elves to Aman for safekeeping -- a move which ultimately led to not only the destruction of Beleriand, but the creation and downfall of Numenor. In the Akallabeth, it says:

Then Manwe upon the Mountain called upon Iluvatar, and for that time the Valar laid down their government of Arda. But Iluvatar showed forth his power and he changed the fashion of the world; and a great chasm opened in the sea between Numenor and the Deathless Lands, and the waters flowed down into it, and the noise and smoke of the cataracts went up into heaven, and the world was shaken...

There is no mention of wrath or punishment; in fact, there is no mention of whose idea this cataclysm was. Was it the Valar's, or Eru's? The whole "Numenor Project" was not terribly well conceived; it seems very much that the Valar, in attempting to reward the Edain, made another version of the same mistake they made with the Elves, allowing them to come close to something they then forbad them have. If they had learned about jealousy from Melkor and Feanor, they would have realized that this problem would almost inevitably arise among the Numenoreans. Sauron didn't cause them to yearn for immortality; he simply goaded them into an act he felt certain would bring about their complete destruction. It could be that the Valar, in setting aside their governance, asked for some kind of "final solution," without realizing the full implications of what they asked.

I also wonder just who wrote the account of the Akallabeth, particularly in regards to events in Aman (if we carry forward Tolkien's "conceit" of presuming these are actual historical documents). One can presume that Elendil and the other refugees were aware of the great wave and the inundation of the land, but who told the writer about the doings of the Valar? I can't imagine anyone in Middle-earth knew those particular details (unless Ulmo or Osse told them to Cirdan); is the document one peculiar to Elven historians in Aman?

Enquiring minds still want to know....

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Originally Posted by Ibrîniðilpathânezel

There is no mention of wrath or punishment; in fact, there is no mention of whose idea this cataclysm was. Was it the Valar's, or Eru's? The whole "Numenor Project" was not terribly well conceived; it seems very much that the Valar, in attempting to reward the Edain, made another version of the same mistake they made with the Elves, allowing them to come close to something they then forbad them have. If they had learned about jealousy from Melkor and Feanor, they would have realized that this problem would almost inevitably arise among the Numenoreans. Sauron didn't cause them to yearn for immortality; he simply goaded them into an act he felt certain would bring about their complete destruction. It could be that the Valar, in setting aside their governance, asked for some kind of "final solution," without realizing the full implications of what they asked.

This actually sounds quite good to me, or at least logical. You have to take into account that for Valar, the Children (be they Men or Elves) were still pretty much of an alien species, they knew very little about them, even after the few millenia of their existence, and even less about Men than about the Elves, of course. So the "Fëanor-mistake" you speak about would be actually pretty well explainable. Also, take into account that at least Manwë, and probably the other Valar too, from the large part, had very little idea about evil, I think it was mentioned somewhere that Manwë just couldn't get it how Melkor could have become the way he was (I think something like that is mentioned along the chaining of Melkor, although I am not sure whether that's the parcitular quote I have in mind). Anyway, the explanation of Valar's act as you outline it in the last sentence of the quote would once again make the most sense to me - what is clear to me is that Valar were desperate and did not know what to do anymore; that was the point beyond which they realised they couldn't reach. However, and that's the problem - to which we are returning all the time in this thread - is that I think it simply doesn't make sense, from our point of view (and neither of the solutions presented this far seemed 100% acceptable to me), that Valar sure didn't ask Eru to "do something" (or however they formulated it) which Eru would just do, destroying the Númenor as part of it - "collateral damage". Yes, it sounds the most sensible - but come on, don't you have the feeling that it's still weird? The crucial question is, don't tell me Eru couldn't have moved the rift a little bit more to the west or something like that (or created another to prevent the fall of Númenor). Don't tell me that you think it's like "okay, I take your resignation, Mr. Manwë. Btw, you fools placed Númenor at the worst spot in the sea, there's the great rift, look! - Splash!"
This is explainable only at the moment when we place, above omnipotent Eru, the even more omnipotent Tolkien, according to whose narrative purposes Eru must react. But as long as we wish to look from the in-Middle-Earth-perspective, we of course can't put any Tolkien into this. In that case, it feels more acceptable to me to simply say that "this is the way things go in M-E" and to say: the innocent people, men, women, children at Númenor had more than enough signs, from the knowledge about Aman and Sauron and Ban passed down to them by generations, through Elven counsels, to eagle-shaped clouds and lightnings. The lesson - "don't do that again once you come to Middle-Earth. Stop your Kings to go to Aman, to sacrifice people to Melkor, to listen to Saurons and stuff, if you have to. Or in the worst case, leave as far as you can from these wrongdoers, otherwise you may get caught in the wave." There was plenty time for those who were not totally corrupted to leave (the example of the Faithful shows that to save yourself was possible). It's a drastic, and quite merciless solution, but still, I would say, in the context of Middle-Earth more logical and easier to believe in than most of the speculation brought up by our postmodernistic minds. It's more medieval-ish, or ancient-ish, like the whole Middle-Earth is. Middle-Earth simply has its own rules, not ours, and these should be determined by what can we figure out from the story. Because, if you compare it, the tale of Tuor, who was sent to Gondolin also with a warning for the King, and maybe we could find some other similar tales, bears the same pattern. "Unheeded warning" is pretty cliché for this type of stories, so why couldn't it be also this case.

[alatar]

Nice posts!

I still think that Eru was allowing Manwe and the rest of the Valar make their own decisions and accept the consequences of the same. When Feanor left Aman, innocent blood was spilled, and this had an effect on all those present for all time.

Maybe Eru, much like Manwe in regards to Feanor, let Manwe take his own course in regards to the Edain, first in raising the Island of the Star, then later sinking it. Just as with Feanor's bad decisions, innocents die. Manwe's hands now are splattered with blood that won't be easy to wash off.

Manwe too is learning; let us hope to weather his mistakes.

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

It has been suggested to me that I don't post as often as some might like. Those who asked have only themselves to blame.

Often it seems to be forgotten just how closely Tolkien's narrative follows Plato's account of Atlantis in the Timaeus and Criteas. For the sake of comparison, the last portion of the latter work is given below.

Such was the vast power which the god settled in the lost island of Atlantis; and this he afterwards directed against our land for the following reasons, as tradition tells: For many generations, as long as the divine nature lasted in them, they were obedient to the laws, and well-affectioned towards the god, whose seed they were; for they possessed true and in every way great spirits, uniting gentleness with wisdom in the various chances of life, and in their intercourse with one another. They despised everything but virtue, caring little for their present state of life, and thinking lightly of the possession of gold and other property, which seemed only a burden to them; neither were they intoxicated by luxury; nor did wealth deprive them of their self-control; but they were sober, and saw clearly that all these goods are increased by virtue and friendship with one another, whereas by too great regard and respect for them, they are lost and friendship with them. By such reflections and by the continuance in them of a divine nature, the qualities which we have described grew and increased among them; but when the divine portion began to fade away, and became diluted too often and too much with the mortal admixture, and the human nature got the upper hand, they then, being unable to bear their fortune, behaved unseemly, and to him who had an eye to see grew visibly debased, for they were losing the fairest of their precious gifts; but to those who had no eye to see the true happiness, they appeared glorious and blessed at the very time when they were full of avarice and unrighteous power. Zeus, the god of gods, who rules according to law, and is able to see into such things, perceiving that an honourable race was in a woeful plight, and wanting to inflict punishment on them, that they might be chastened and improve, collected all the gods into their most holy habitation, which, being placed in the centre of the world, beholds all created things. And when he had called them together, he spake as follows- [the remainder of the dialogue has been lost]

Plato Criteas, tr. Benjamin Jowett

The above translation is quoted in The J.R.R. Tolkien Companion and Guide (without its conclusion), and it certainly bears a striking resemblance to Tolkien's account of Númenor: a race is founded by the admixture of mortal and immortal blood and settled on a large island. For a time they are noble and virtuous, but the gradual dilution of the immortal part in them is mirrored in the decline of their society's moral standards. Eventually their impiety brings down a divinely engineered catastrophe upon them in which their island home is destroyed. Tolkien even named the Land of Gift Atalantë, 'The Downfallen', and referred to Númenor in his letters as 'the Atlantis-isle'. For me, though, there is a striking difference between Tolkien and Plato: their divergent approaches to the divine motive.

In Plato, Zeus explicitly states that his intention is to punish the Atlanteans so that their character will improve (slightly illogical, since they will probably not survive their lesson). Tolkien, on the other hand, never refers to punishment or even a lesson in any of his drafts of the Númenor material. In fact, in some versions of The Downfall of Númenor, Andor is not the only land to be destroyed in the cataclysm.

��§47 But those that are wisest in discernment aver that the fleets of the Nūmenōreans came indeed to Avallondē and encompassed it about, but the Avalāi made no sign. But Manawē being grieved sought the counsel at the last of Eru, and the Avalāi laid down their governance of Earth. And Eru overthrew its shape, and a great chasm was opened in the sea between Nūmenōr and Avallondē and the seas poured in, and into that abyss fell all the fleets of the Nūmenōreans and were swallowed in oblivion. But Avallondē and Nūmenōrē that stood on either side of the great rent were also destroyed; and they foundered and are no more. And the Avalāi thereafter had no local habitation on earth, nor is there any place more where memory of an earth without evil is preserved; and the Avalāi dwell in secret or have faded to shadows, and their power is minished.

The Drowning of Anadûnê (version 1), Sauron Defeated p.351

The above text was composed at a time when Tolkien was working on The Notion Club Papers, and pre-dates the Akallabêth by a considerable time. What strikes me as significant (other than the possibility that this is intended as a human rather than an Elvish tradition) is that both some portion of the Undying Lands and Númenor are destroyed in the reshaping of the earth. Had Tolkien left the story in this form it would have left us in no doubt about the incidental nature of Númenor's destruction, but this does raise another apparent contradiction: how can an omnipotent being cause collateral damage? This might be explained by the history of the text: in the earliest version of The Fall of Númenor, it is clearly the Valar, not Eru, who have reshaped the world.

����§8 But Ilúvatar gave power to the Gods, and they bent back the edges of the Middle-earth, and they made it into a globe, so that however far a man should sail he could never again reach the true West, but came back weary at last to the place of his beginning. Thus New Lands came into being beneath the Old World, and all were equally distant from the centre of the round earth; and there was flood and great confusion of waters, and seas covered what was once the dry, and lands appeared where there had been deep seas. Thus also the heavy air flowed round all the earth in that time, above the waters; and the springs of all waters were cut off from the stars.
§9 But Númenor being nigh upon the East to the great rift was utterly thrown down and overwhelmed in sea, and its glory perished.

The Fall of Númenor (version 1), The Lost Road, p.16

Tolkien says something very similar in one of his published letters.

Faced by this rebellion, of appalling folly and blasphemy, and also real peril (since the Númenóreans directed by Sauron could have wrought ruin in Valinor itself) the Valar lay down their delegated power and appeal to God, and receive the power and permission to deal with the situation; the old world is broken and changed. A chasm is opened in the sea and Tar-Calion and his armada is engulfed. Númenor itself on the edge of the rift topples and vanishes for ever with all its glory in the abyss.

Letters #131 (c. late 1951)

The agency involved, however, was to be changed not long afterwards. In 1954, Tolkien wrote about the events of the Akallabêth in another letter.

The Valar had no real answer to this monstrous rebellion - for the Children of God were not under their ultimate jurisdiction: they were not allowed to destroy them, or coerce them with any 'divine' display of the powers they held over the physical world. They appealed to God, and a catastrophic 'change of plan' occurred. At the moment that Arpharazôn set foot on the forbidden shore, a rift appeared: Númenor foundered and was utterly overwhelmed; the armada was swallowed up; and the Blessed Realm removed for ever from the circles of the physical world.

Letters #155 (September 1954)

Later still, he told Rhona Beare that "Sauron was first defeated by a 'miracle': a direct action of God the Creator, changing the fashion of the world, when appealed to by Manwë..." (Letters #211), so we can see a fairly rapid re-assessment of the whole story from an act of the Valar to the direct intervention of the creator. The Valar might be forgiven for their failure to foresee the extent of the damage this change in the earth's form would cause, but Tolkien has now replaced them as the prime agency with Eru himself, who ought to know what the outcome of his actions will be. Personally I feel that this causes a theological problem that could easily have been avoided, but since I ought to conclude this monster with some sort of opinion I will give one.

It seems to me that within the boundaries of Arda itself, Eru's powers were limited by the physical rules of his own creation. In the Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth, for example, Andreth cannot understand how the dream of the 'Men of the Old Hope' can be achieved.

'But they speak of Eru Himself entering into Arda... How could He the greater do this? Would it not shatter Arda, or indeed all Eä?'

Athrabeth (Morgoth's Ring p.322

In fact, Eru must become incarnate to do this, and Tolkien quite rightly shied away at the last from talking about the Crucifixion in his legends. However it does demonstrate that the limitless creator must limit himself in order to conform with the internal rules of his creation, and one of those rules is that enormous geological upheavals can cause islands to sink. As I said above, however, Tolkien had changed his mind enough for the theology of this situation to be unclear. Personally I think that narrative necessity demanded that Númenor be destroyed, because combining Plato's account and Tolkien's own dream of the wave was the whole point of the story. Once he had the dramatic situation on his hands - and had decided that Eru rather than the Valar should change the world - he was forced back on making the rebellion 'monstrous' and blasphemous, and the outcome of a Númenórean landing more perilous in order to avoid portraying Eru as a vengeful deity. No lesson appears to have been intended or received except by the reader.

[Lalwendë]

Originally Posted by Gwathagor

Perhaps the Numenorean people should never have existed at all; one could consider them a failed experiment on the part of the Valar, a phenomenon that defied went against too many facts of reality and that was, at its core, wrong. It had gone well at first, but eventually it became clear that Men were not meant to live in such privilege, so close to the Valar, with gifts of knowledge, strength, health, and the ability to die when they saw fit. It might seem callous or simplistic to just take the Numenoreans as a whole race, rather than on an individual basis, but this approach would be consistent with Tolkien's style of dealing with race in LOTR: he frequent relies on generalities. The Numenoreans had run their course, which really never should have been. In this light, Eru appears merciful for allowing a few of this problematic people group, this aberration, to continue.

(I've never thought about it this way before, and I haven't even entirely convinced myself yet - but I'm entertaining the notion.)

This has made me think about the rights and wrongs of what the Valar did.

The Valar were quite cruel, providing Men with this island from which could be seen a tiny little glimpse of the Undying Lands, a place where the people are immortals. Not only that, but creating a place of near-perfection which only lacked that one ingredient which allowed the Men there to enjoy this paradise in eternity. Back in the 'real world', i.e. Middle-earth, life was still relatively gritty (even more so once the Edain upped sticks and abandoned the rest of the Men to their fate), but on Numenor it was great - just that they could only enjoy this 'jolly' of a life for a limited time.

Yet Eru had made Men in their nature mortals, and had made them that way because Eru saw their mortality as a gift. The Valar did not go against this, they could not change that, but they certainly tampered with it.

What happened in Numenor also gives you some background on why in later years the Elves tried to keep away from Men. It was quite possibly for the benefit of Men, not to torment them with this one thing they could not have.

I wouldn't say it was merciful for Eru to cause the cataclysm which sent Numenor to the watery depths, but it could certainly be argued that it was necessary for him to take the Undying Lands away from the sight of Men, for their own good.

[Morthoron]

Originally Posted by Lalwendë

This has made me think about the rights and wrongs of what the Valar did.

The Valar were quite cruel, providing Men with this island from which could be seen a tiny little glimpse of the Undying Lands, a place where the people are immortals.

I would say the Valar were as equally short-sighted when they dragged off the Eldar from Middle-earth and kept them in Valinor (ostensibly for their own good). Granted, they earnestly wished to help the Eldar, but breaking up families in Cuivienen (remember, not all Elves wished to leave), and then practically ignoring those who stayed behind for many generations seems a bit callous.

Then of course fencing in creative, energetic folk like the Noldor was bound to cause friction eventually, even without Morgoth butting in. How long before the mean constraints of Valinor, however beautiful, would act as a catalyst for more adventurous Elves to yearn for more freedom? Galadriel, while not agreeing with Feanor and his sons, certainly longed for greater kingdoms to rule. In addition, Elves, like their mortal counterparts at times, seemed to always seek for that which they lost.

[Lalwendë]

Originally Posted by Morthoron

I would say the Valar were as equally short-sighted when they dragged off the Eldar from Middle-earth and kept them in Valinor (ostensibly for their own good). Granted, they earnestly wished to help the Eldar, but breaking up families in Cuivienen (remember, not all Elves wished to leave), and then practically ignoring those who stayed behind for many generations seems a bit callous.

Then of course fencing in creative, energetic folk like the Noldor was bound to cause friction eventually, even without Morgoth butting in. How long before the mean constraints of Valinor, however beautiful, would act as a catalyst for more adventurous Elves to yearn for more freedom? Galadriel, while not agreeing with Feanor and his sons, certainly longed for greater kingdoms to rule. In addition, Elves, like their mortal counterparts at times, seemed to always seek for that which they lost.

This adds grist to my mill that Being An Elf Would Suck. As if it's not bad enough being tied to the earth with no hope of a rest, and also being tied to whatever cataclysmic fate Eru has in store, the Valar come along like school prefects and stop you from venting your creative urges to the full through all the ages of your existence.

Would I have wanted to be one of the Moriquendi? Too right. I'd have tolerated Orc raids over beautiful boredom any day.

[Morthoron]

Originally Posted by Lalwendë

This adds grist to my mill that Being An Elf Would Suck.

Perhaps this explains the seeming death wish of some Elves -- a vainglory straddling the line of utter madness. I guess that's the point where Elves turn 'fey'. I mean, really, what was Fingolfin thinking going up against Morgoth? Was it necessary from a strategic standpoint? Did it serve any purpose whatsoever? It seems immortality may cause a distinct urge to gamble with one's life, or rather, a disregard or fearlessness of consequences.

[Lalwendë]

Originally Posted by Morthoron

Perhaps this explains the seeming death wish of some Elves -- a vainglory straddling the line of utter madness. I guess that's the point where Elves turn 'fey'. I mean, really, what was Fingolfin thinking going up against Morgoth? Was it necessary from a strategic standpoint? Did it serve any purpose whatsoever? It seems immortality may cause a distinct urge to gamble with one's life, or rather, a disregard or fearlessness of consequences.

Even so, there would be no guarantees once you had entered the Halls of Mandos. You may stay there or you may return to your/another life, but there is no way of telling. It's very different to the fate of Men who may turn fey in the belief (if they have it) that after death they would once again be with their loved ones so there is nothing to be lost.

Though after endless years seeing destruction and horror, especially in Beleriand while Morgoth was at large, I'm sure some Elves must have just snapped and lost it and literally threw themselves into battle. And who knows what went through the minds of the Noldor after they had stormed out of Valinor, lost kin on the Helcaraxe or the Kinslaying, maybe regretted their choice to leave?

[Morthoron]

Interesting that the word 'fey' has its root in the term faery itself (French, I believe, as in Morgan la Fey), thereby insinuating an instability in the Elvish (or, more properly, Sidhe) set in a classical sense. Reading something like W.B. Yeats' or Crofton Croker's folklore of Ireland, it's certainly reasonable to believe that faery-folk are unreasonable and more than a bit daft. They are certainly not a stable race in any case (which is reiterated for modern readers in Mr. Norrell and Jonathan Strange).

I wonder if Tolkien perhaps gleaned a bit of the Elvish feyness from 19th century English and Irish writers. I know he didn't care much for Gaelic mythology (Usnach, Cu Chullain, Redbranch, etc.), but Faery feyness abounds in more current Irish folklore (say, within the last 2 or 3 centuries), and in older tales Tolkien was more partial to, as in the Welsh Mabinogion and the Arthurian cycle as well (The Green Knight was not the most stable character, was he?). I haven't read any George MacDonald in the last 2 decades, but I seem to remember a great bit of feyness permeating his novels.

[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Originally Posted by Lalwendë

Even so, there would be no guarantees once you had entered the Halls of Mandos. You may stay there or you may return to your/another life, but there is no way of telling. It's very different to the fate of Men who may turn fey in the belief (if they have it) that after death they would once again be with their loved ones so there is nothing to be lost.

I have to note one thing which just kind of popped up at me here when reading this. From the theological point of view, the Fate of Men is actually of all the mythology something where Tolkien went probably the closest to the Christian message, particularly as given by the Resurrection. All the images of Valinor, Elves etc. are just "simple" things, and a view from indeed a mythology, which also Tolkien made fit into the mythologic world itself. But here is the difference: the Elves remain there, but the fate of Men is to head out into something uncertain. Yet when they rely on that message that it's going to be fine, however not exactly certain what's going to be there, they have this promise that their death is not the last instance where all hope would be lost. So if they believe this thing, resp. person who told them that (now I am not entirely sure if Eru is that much of a reliably-looking one, but whatever - actually, it's more like that Eru is not much looking like anything, at least from my point of view, so that's a bit on a different level), I think by removing all the other mythological colorite etc. this is pretty much the closest to the "bare core" of the Easter message.

I am now speaking from the point of view of the Silmarillion, UT and such, I don't know if there's anything more in HoME or such (which could make it more or on the other hand less fitting). But that's how I see it.