Elemmírë
06-30-2009, 04:29 PM
I would throw this into the Aldarion and Erendis thread, but there are some serious First Age digressions, so here: have a new thread. Feminist theory to follow.
I’ll begin by explaining that yes, I do have one huge, at times insurmountable problem with the Histories of Middle-earth. Specifically, the silence of the female characters. The fact that Lalwen, daughter of Finwë, is said to have followed Fingolfin to Beleriand and is mentioned once. The wives of the Sons of Fëanor, for whom we aren’t even given names.
For this reason, I was incredibly pleased to find a specific statement in the story of Aldarion and Erendis. Pleased, because I love it when my criticisms are brought up by an author within the story, because it leaves me believing that the author is indeed aware of and willing to address the problem. And a feminist critique of this nature is something I least expected to see in Tolkien.
Erendis says, on page 207 (in my version) of Unfinished Tales:
“Thus it is, Ancalimë, and we cannot alter it. For men fashioned Númenor: men, those heroes of old that they sing of – of their women, we hear less, save that they wept when their men were slain.”
One cannot deny the truth of this statement, and the obvious injustice of it. At least, I would hope that one could not deny these things, but I’m not altogether convinced that Tolkien intends to be bringing it up as a legitimate concern.
It is, however, a legitimate concern, as I think can be shown in the Lay of Leithian, a story I’ve been wrestling with, on and off, for years.
On one hand, the story of Lúthien is very full of proto-feminist theory. Every old fairytale trope is shattered in her tale. The Princess escapes under her own power and then rescues the Hero from the Monster. The Hero’s every attempt at dissuading her from his Quest fails. Quite miserably. In the quest that follows, it is Lúthien’s Art more than Beren’s that allows them to accomplish more than any Elf ever has before. (Well, Maedhros managed to get into Angband, but I don’t think that counts.) She is occupying the active role at this point, he serves almost more as moral support than anything else, which is a brilliant twist on your normal medieval gender norms. And in the end, in what can be interpreted as a celebration of a female capacity to choose largely lacking, historically, the ultimate choice falls to her and her alone: Valinor or mortality.
However, and there is a big however: Here we have the most powerful living weapon the Eldar have, and she sits out of the entirety of the First Age until one mortal man arrives, and then, as if her agency is tied entirely to his being, she takes up her role. But as soon as he fades from the story, she does as well, as if the only thing that ever mattered with the character was how she related to her spouse.
This is a flaw. This is an enormous flaw, but one of the story, not the character, I’ve come to decide.
From an in story perspective (from an out of story one, the culprit is clearly the gender problems of the time period and the teachings of the Catholic Church – again, of the time), this is… exactly what Erendis says it is. It is story told by men, recounted, possibly orally, over generations by Eldarin and then mortal men, because women are by and large not the tellers of tales. Even among the Noldor, the women love histories, as is told in L&C, but it is the men who are the chief poets, and thus it is their stories that get passed down and then subtly changed by mortals.
This tendency cannot be discounted in a story that is meant to be read as the result of oral tradition. And it’s not limited to a feminist critique – I would attribute it as well to what is told of the Fëanorians; the only one remaining has surrendered his voice and his story (save for the Noldolantë, I imagine), and it falls to those who have survived to tell the tale. Those who largely would have no incentive to be remotely sympathetic to the circumstances of the House of Fëanor. Thus I wonder just what was left out in the retelling.
In Lúthien’s case, everything apart from her tragedy, I would imagine, which does not necessarily mean that she was sitting idly in Doriath, awaiting her Destiny, but that, as Erendis says, “of their women we hear less, save that they wept when their men were slain.”
Why is this troubling to me? Because right here is as honest, painful a criticism as can be made, and I look at the characters who are making it, and I wonder exactly what is intended to be read from this. Erendis and Ancalimë are both powerful women deeply – fatally, in Erendis’ case, and in more ways than one – wounded by the patriarchal society in which they live. A patriarchy so pervasive that the original rule concerning women inheriting the sceptre was that if they did not marry by a certain time, they would have to step down. And neither woman overcomes it. At all. Erendis self-destructs. Ancalimë, now distrustful of all men because of her mother's influence, strikes out at everyone around her, going so far as to deny her women and then her granddaughters the right to marry. Pursuing her own incredibly dysfunctional marriage, seemingly out of spite.
So there you have it – the old stereotype of the raging misandrist feminist who is more an object of scorn than anything else. Am I supposed to be sympathizing with such a character (I do regardless, obviously, as I do with the House of Fëanor), and in the midst of such rabid hatred, how now might one interpret Erendis’ criticism of the stories of the heroes of old? Is it meant to be just another example, like so much else in the story, of a woman blinded by hatred and rather insane, or… a legitimate criticism?
It is a legitimate criticism, nonetheless; I’m simply not certain that Tolkien himself intended it is much, and it does seem somewhat problematic that it would be brought up in such an ambiguous light.
I’ll begin by explaining that yes, I do have one huge, at times insurmountable problem with the Histories of Middle-earth. Specifically, the silence of the female characters. The fact that Lalwen, daughter of Finwë, is said to have followed Fingolfin to Beleriand and is mentioned once. The wives of the Sons of Fëanor, for whom we aren’t even given names.
For this reason, I was incredibly pleased to find a specific statement in the story of Aldarion and Erendis. Pleased, because I love it when my criticisms are brought up by an author within the story, because it leaves me believing that the author is indeed aware of and willing to address the problem. And a feminist critique of this nature is something I least expected to see in Tolkien.
Erendis says, on page 207 (in my version) of Unfinished Tales:
“Thus it is, Ancalimë, and we cannot alter it. For men fashioned Númenor: men, those heroes of old that they sing of – of their women, we hear less, save that they wept when their men were slain.”
One cannot deny the truth of this statement, and the obvious injustice of it. At least, I would hope that one could not deny these things, but I’m not altogether convinced that Tolkien intends to be bringing it up as a legitimate concern.
It is, however, a legitimate concern, as I think can be shown in the Lay of Leithian, a story I’ve been wrestling with, on and off, for years.
On one hand, the story of Lúthien is very full of proto-feminist theory. Every old fairytale trope is shattered in her tale. The Princess escapes under her own power and then rescues the Hero from the Monster. The Hero’s every attempt at dissuading her from his Quest fails. Quite miserably. In the quest that follows, it is Lúthien’s Art more than Beren’s that allows them to accomplish more than any Elf ever has before. (Well, Maedhros managed to get into Angband, but I don’t think that counts.) She is occupying the active role at this point, he serves almost more as moral support than anything else, which is a brilliant twist on your normal medieval gender norms. And in the end, in what can be interpreted as a celebration of a female capacity to choose largely lacking, historically, the ultimate choice falls to her and her alone: Valinor or mortality.
However, and there is a big however: Here we have the most powerful living weapon the Eldar have, and she sits out of the entirety of the First Age until one mortal man arrives, and then, as if her agency is tied entirely to his being, she takes up her role. But as soon as he fades from the story, she does as well, as if the only thing that ever mattered with the character was how she related to her spouse.
This is a flaw. This is an enormous flaw, but one of the story, not the character, I’ve come to decide.
From an in story perspective (from an out of story one, the culprit is clearly the gender problems of the time period and the teachings of the Catholic Church – again, of the time), this is… exactly what Erendis says it is. It is story told by men, recounted, possibly orally, over generations by Eldarin and then mortal men, because women are by and large not the tellers of tales. Even among the Noldor, the women love histories, as is told in L&C, but it is the men who are the chief poets, and thus it is their stories that get passed down and then subtly changed by mortals.
This tendency cannot be discounted in a story that is meant to be read as the result of oral tradition. And it’s not limited to a feminist critique – I would attribute it as well to what is told of the Fëanorians; the only one remaining has surrendered his voice and his story (save for the Noldolantë, I imagine), and it falls to those who have survived to tell the tale. Those who largely would have no incentive to be remotely sympathetic to the circumstances of the House of Fëanor. Thus I wonder just what was left out in the retelling.
In Lúthien’s case, everything apart from her tragedy, I would imagine, which does not necessarily mean that she was sitting idly in Doriath, awaiting her Destiny, but that, as Erendis says, “of their women we hear less, save that they wept when their men were slain.”
Why is this troubling to me? Because right here is as honest, painful a criticism as can be made, and I look at the characters who are making it, and I wonder exactly what is intended to be read from this. Erendis and Ancalimë are both powerful women deeply – fatally, in Erendis’ case, and in more ways than one – wounded by the patriarchal society in which they live. A patriarchy so pervasive that the original rule concerning women inheriting the sceptre was that if they did not marry by a certain time, they would have to step down. And neither woman overcomes it. At all. Erendis self-destructs. Ancalimë, now distrustful of all men because of her mother's influence, strikes out at everyone around her, going so far as to deny her women and then her granddaughters the right to marry. Pursuing her own incredibly dysfunctional marriage, seemingly out of spite.
So there you have it – the old stereotype of the raging misandrist feminist who is more an object of scorn than anything else. Am I supposed to be sympathizing with such a character (I do regardless, obviously, as I do with the House of Fëanor), and in the midst of such rabid hatred, how now might one interpret Erendis’ criticism of the stories of the heroes of old? Is it meant to be just another example, like so much else in the story, of a woman blinded by hatred and rather insane, or… a legitimate criticism?
It is a legitimate criticism, nonetheless; I’m simply not certain that Tolkien himself intended it is much, and it does seem somewhat problematic that it would be brought up in such an ambiguous light.