anipologist

[anipologist]

I’m an oldest sibling but my parents read LWW to me when I was a bit younger than Lucy and the movie was my first ever theatre experience-(I’m about 3 months older than Lucy’s actress) so I have always looked at Narnia through Lucy’s eyes.

explain why in the tags - this was inspired by me noticing a trend of eldest siblings identifying with peter (one I watched with show with kept audibly groaning at the little siblings shenanigans)

[anipologist]

Thrilled to see that the friendship ring is currently winning!

I can’t tell if Feanor would be sad that his heirloom jewel is only at 9.5% while a House of Finarfin/Finrod (barely even Noldo and entirely un-cursed) is winning or pleased that he only needs to murder-10% of the poll takers…

Hey guys, I just got back from the flea market and this one jewelry table had some GREAT stuff! Anyone want anything? $5 each or best offer.

#feanor #lord of the rings #jrr tolkien #polls #the silmarillion #finrod felagund #tolkien elves #Sauron #ring of Barahir #ring of fire #ring of adamant #nenya #narya #vilya

[anipologist]

With the rise of “AI” conversations I have been dragged forth from the eternal busyness of real life to put in my two cents about the algorithms being marketed as artificial intelligence…

1) Artificial intelligence it is not...

And upon this hill I raise my banner. Artificial intelligence implies actual thinking, sentience, “I think, therefore I am” (Cogito, ergo sum) etc.

Chat GPT and it’s ilk cannot think, they can only copy. You are never going to get an original idea out of one of these ai models. It’s Morgoth IRL, it can only distort and twist what has already been created, it cannot invent.

2) It’s glorified Google translate and just like Google Translate the more you feed it back in on itself the more distorted it becomes. It’s Google Translate for images and essays and search parameters and just like Google translate or worse Google Maps…it will probably led you off a cliff one day (just a mental one not a literal one like Maps). It only works when there is a human at the controls to make true decisions born of will and not of algorithms.

3) Even if it did work it would be hugely problematic as people begin to lean on it to do all the things that take time and energy and brain power and thus steadily lose their brain activity, their willpower and their own intelligence. Being able to think properly is a skill and surrendering that to even a sentient machine would be a betrayal of your humanity. Surrendering it to a non-sentient, jumped-up Google translate is even worse.

I’ll sign off with a quote from the Silmarillion regarding Morgoth…make of it what you will…

“Understanding he turned to subtlety in perverting to his own will all that he would use, until he became a liar without shame….many were drawn to his splendour in the days of his greatness, and remained in that allegiance down into his darkness…”

#ai #chatgtp #artificial intelligence #tolkein #Morgoth #the trouble with algorithms #two cents

[anipologist]

Where is the “My mom only taught me to sew buttons so I bought a sewing machine in my mid 20’s and have just sort of been winging it from there…” option?

hey wait actually

and put in the tags where you learned

#seriously I can do gathers #but my seams are only mostly straight #I want to sew a corset but the boning is majorly intimidating #when I was a kid I did part of a hand sewing class where I made 3/4 of a baby bonnet and 7/8s of a quilt #I am basically dragging myself kicking and screaming into sewing #I love fiber arts but they do not come nearly as naturally as painting and drawing and jewelry work #except knitting…I can knit but not croquet

[anipologist]

Tagged by @kraytwriter

WIP Game

Rules: Write the latest line from your wip (or post where you last  left off in your art) and tag as many people as there are words in the  line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

“Really,” Sokka asks with interest, “Where were you then?”

(Which is a good question because I am also curious as to where Zuko was in this AU) I really enjoyed writing this, however, the premise is a little tricky

(Zuko is still banished to capture the Avatar but somehow never actually catches up to them and only ends up back in the Fire Nation after Ozai is killed….everyone including Zuko has assumed Aang killed Ozai…so confusion all around). Hopefully this will get my brain going again…

Ok so I don't know anyone else to tag (I'm internet shy and follow like 5 people who I mostly don't interact with) so I'm just going to tag you back! @kraytwriter

#my wips #wip game #avatar: tla #alta #alta fic

[anipologist]

All I’m seeing is…

Normal people caught in a whole gale: Swear oaths you will not keep once back on land…

Feanor & Sons (caught in a gale for committing murder): Swear oaths and keep them even when they lead to more murder…

For anyone looking to describe wind in fic! Beaufort Wind Scale. I found some of these descriptions amusing.

Update: Sorry this is so hard to read. I may type it out when I have a minute.

Further update: Source is The Complete Sailor by David Seidman which is really very helpful and well written!

#sailing #jrr tolkien #tolkien #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #feanor #sons of feanor #the flight of the Noldor #I kind of want to see a tea company or something called Feanor and Sons #all the teas give you ungodly amounts of caffeine #and taste like fire

[anipologist]

Other Tolkien debates:

Do Balrogs have wings? Is Legolas golden-haired like his dad? What happened to Thranduil's wife?

My brain at 2am:

Does Gondor have running water? I am certain that Rivendell does given how many Noldor live there and I am convinced that there is no way that the deep elves didn't figure out plumbing before the rising of the sun.

Which leads me to wonder if imperial Númenor did too? Even Rome had aqueducts and since Númenor is sort of Atlantis and also a land that was ruled by Elros at the peak of mankind I imagine that it did. There were probably all kinds of cool technological marvels that died with the island.

Why are there two Legolas Greenleafs but one of every other elf? (Besides Tolkien forgetting about the first one) Is Thranduil part Vanya? Where else would he get golden-hair? Why doesn't Merry have any canonical children? Why did poor Ingwion not get a real name?

#lotr stuff #tolkien stuff #tolkien meta #jrr tolkien #lotr #numenor #gondor #rivendell #noldor #deep elves #plumbing #tolkien #legolas #thranduil #legolas greenleaf #merry brandybuck

[anipologist]

Harps makes a lot of sense though. (Not talking about classical harps btw) Smaller folk style harps are easy to carry and retune. (Even my large folk harp only weighs about 12 lbs) Extra strings don’t take up a bunch of space in your standard “Noldo Adventure Traveling Pack”.

Most importantly you only need your hands not an easily breakable bow and you can sing along with it which you can’t with a flute.

I’m sure within stable strongholds and hidden kingdoms they pull out the organs and cellos and violins and flutes etc…

But most of the characters we see playing the harp are out wandering, Fingon isn’t exactly going to go dashing into Angband with a piano…

You ever wonder why everyone and they mama has a harp in ME? It's ALWAYS a harp, maybe once or twice you'll see a flute like with Daeron and Ecthelion...but nine times out of ten it's either a harp, your voice or a flute. (I know they mentioned a fiddle like once in the Hobbit but I don't think anyone ever played it IIRC). Maglor had a harp, Fingon had a harp, Finrod had a harp. I think fuckin' Glorfindel had a harp too....OTHER INSTRUMENTS EXIST, JIRT!

#silm #silmarillion #harp #music #musical instruments #lotr #minstrels #Tolkien #yes I’m biased towards harps #but they make a ton of narrative sense #Finrod for instance just picks up the first instrument he stumbles on in Balan’s camp #plus harps are some of the oldest instruments in the world #they can be incredibly sophisticated but at their heart they are pretty simple #I do love the idea that they are the ME equivalent of a piano though

[anipologist]

Why do these to identical combinations of letters with the difference on a single space mean two entirely different things?

Mans laughter

Manslaughter

Oh dearly beloved and oh so obnoxious hodgepodge language that is English I love to hate you.

Just to clarify

This is a joke and a rhetorical question. I am well aware that these are two different words. I didn’t think anyone would see this as a serious question. (Thank you everyone that offered to explain it…I assume it was kindly meant although unnecessary).

#english #language #linguistics #linguistique #english you weird #weird language #homonyms #sort of #languages #oh #the joy of spaces #whatever would the romans have done #words #the gh in the one is pronounced f and in the other as ought

[anipologist]

Since I spend far more time than strictly necessary thinking about the song duel between Finrod and Sauron I keeping coming back to one detail...

SAURON SHOULD HAVE FIGURED HIM OUT AS SOON AS THE DISGUISES FAILED.

"Then Sauron stripped from them their disguise, and they stood before him naked and afraid"

Sauron, Morgoth's lieutenant, and one of his spymasters somehow doesn't manage to recognize the golden-haired, incredibly powerful, shapeshifting elf that just had the nerve to fight one of the Ainur with a SONG. Nor does he make the logical jump that a group of elves that is very adamant that the Arafinweans not the Feanorians are ruling Nargothrond might have something to do with the missing king.

And Sauron is not stupid...he is a lot a things but we know he is highly intelligent. He is a deceiver himself, he is good at uncovering secrets and he made some excellent and crucial logical points not ten minutes earlier while leading the company into condemning themselves as not orcs. (The final test of course being the cursed vow that they would not repeat....more on that later).

And it's not accidental,

"Yet not all unavailing were the spells of Felagund; for Thû neither their names nor purpose knew."

So what does that mean exactly, Finrod like the rest had been stripped of all disguise? There are literally two golden-haired elf princes left at this point (and no offense to Orodreth but any with a shred of intelligence knows that this isn't him), the fact that there is a man among them offers further clues as should their association of Nargothrond. Finally, based off the way the duel is described

"For Felagund strove with Sauron in songs of power, and the power of the King was very great"

Sauron should have alarm bells of one of those Finwean brats going off in his head. And Sauron just breezes past every clue without even recognizing them as clues. It's not just that he can't put the clues together but the remnant of Finrod's secrets kept and trust unbroken is actively working to make him not recognize that the clues are there there at all. The closest that he gets is that "he perceived that he was a Noldo of great might and wisdom".

But never that he should recognize the Noldo of great might and wisdom and that the fact that he doesn't is very suspicious.

Granted I already loved Finrod...but the fact that he not only manages to keep his secrets and those of his followers as he is falling apart over the kinslaying and literally collapsing on the floor but sets it up so that Sauron thinks he has won, that the field is his and their secrets are his for the taking is extremely impressive.

He loses the battle to keep their disguises and they are imprisoned but the rest of his song...it all rings true. They do resist, the chain snaps and Beren is freed. And all that against a Maia described as "a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; [whose] dominion was torment."

*Regardless of what most Tolkien adaptions would have you believe, golden-haired elves appear to be in extremely short supply outside of Valinor. The house of Finarfin, Thranduil and Glorfindel being some of the few in Beleriand/Middle Earth through three ages of the sun. By the time Finrod is taken, Angrod & Aegnor are dead, Glorfindel is in Gondolin (and it's unlikely that Sauron would have known/cared about him then...though he will later), Thranduil may or may not be born yet and is aggressively not Noldo, and Galadriel is a woman. That leaves Finrod and Orodreth as likely suspects.

**The Oath

There are several layers here. Honestly this reads like early Christians being asked to sacrifice to the Roman Emperor. And given that Sauron later starts actual human-sacrifice to Morgoth I feel like that is intentional on Tolkien's part. Even the method of execution feels very "thrown to the lions-ish" just with werewolves. You cannot even pretend certain things like publicly disavowing God without making yourself an apostate. Even in the field of espionage and undercover work there comes a point when you have to draw a line, to say this far and no farther can I go to keep my cover. Given the importance of oaths and curses and how binding they are they CANNOT take that oath.

They cannot even feign to take it without irrevocably changing themselves and putting themselves even further into Sauron's power. Notably, and while he does take them prisoner and torture them their minds remain free and it seems clear that every single one, from the youngest unnamed one to Edrahil makes a conscious choice to take being eaten alive (Tolkien doesn't really dwell on the horror aspect of this but if you think about it longer than three seconds it gets really dark and those unnamed elves are every bit equal in courage to more lauded heroes like Glorfindel and Fingon) over betraying their king, Beren and the city they that has cast them all aside.

Anyways, this is one of those oaths that as Tolkien would say "none should take" even if the consequences lead to being wolf-kibble.

*(quotes are from the Silmarillion and the Lay of Leithian)

#jrr tolkien #tolkien #tolkien meta #tolkien musing #finrod felagund #sauron #the quest of the silmaril #tol-in-gaurhoth #finrod's ten #beren #beren and luthien #tolkien elves #silmarillion #lay of leithian #silmarillion elves

[anipologist]

Just can’t get over TROP looking over at

1) Gil-Gilad, who was probably about the elven equivalent of 17 when he ran out of kingly relatives and ended up high king of the Noldor…a people known for their patience, staid outlook on life and long-lived kings. (Just kidding they are absolutely insane…and their kings without fail all died fighting literal Satan, werewolves, balrogs, dragons and more balrogs…)

2) Celebrimbor, grandson of Feanor and son of flipping Curufin, hopelessly in love with his married cousin, only one of his family to not swear an insane curse, his uncles include Maedhros and Celegorm, friend to Narvi of the dwarves and literal Satan 2.0

And thought “let’s make them stodgy…washed-up politician types with terrible taste in curtains....sorry...clothes! That sounds about right!”

#tolkien elves #anti trop #anti rings of power #anti rop #rings of power critical #jrr tolkien #second age #the problem of amazon #rings of commercialization #critique of rings of power #remember the noldor are the kind of people who hold a woman renowned for her skill in fabric arts up as a lauded craftswomen #they all look like the human equivalent of stale fruitcake

[anipologist]

A World Unfamiliar

So for some reason I thought that the challenge ran through the 25th, an accident that was compounded by having somehow managed to unfollow the challenge. Anyways life has been dreadfully busy for the last three weeks and I am delighted to have been able to write anything at all. So here is my very unfinished @inklings-challenge story with a title that is still under construction.

Team Lewis

Genre: Portal Fantasy

Status: Unfinished

Images: Light/Water

Word Count: 1,466

Sometimes Erin feels as though the familiar walls hid secrets. That if she trails her fingers along the wainscoting long enough or in just the right place something will click and a secret passage will spring open.

But Erin is not seeking to escape a cruel step-mother nor is she is a lonely orphan trapped under the iron thumb of a strict boarding school. Erin is only the eldest child in a loving family with younger siblings that are by turns adorable and irritating. She has never been in danger of anything save her own restless wanderlust and the dream that the world is not quite as ordinary as it seems.

She is far too sensible to truly believe that the back of her wardrobe will open into Narnia (though it is not too many years since she tried) and far too starry-eyed to simply not care. Perhaps if she had been older, or wiser or in love this story would not have happened as it did or indeed at all. But Erin is still caught in the awkward years between college and a family of her own and although she has a distinctly philosophical bent, she is not wise yet. As for the third, Erin has never yet been in love.

And thus, when she begins to wake to the sound of dancing feet though walls that have no rooms beyond them, to the soft touch of songs that are not played by any instrument she has ever heard, to dream strange dreams of mountains that are just a little too steep she does not think much of it. Dreams are an escape from the sheer mundanity of the modern world and she does not mind escaping it for just a little.

She does worry a little when she begins to see familiar faces in crowds of strangers but she can barely remember of what she dreams save that it is fair and fleeting and seems to intensify her longing for something she can’t quite grasp.

There is a trail that she walks sometimes; less often the older she gets. A trail without any markers through tangled thickets and into a still green glade. It is barely twenty steps away from a well-used path and low brick buildings but standing within it all of that is forgotten. The chatter of voices, the faint hum of electricity and the echo of footsteps are met and matched by the silence within the encircling trees. It is not an old glade, the trees are young and the tiny rill that runs through it is feed more by passing rains then by its ancient spring.

Erin spends her twenty-seventh winter caught between spurts of baking, books she already knows by heart and yet loves anyway and unusual amounts of snow. And still her odd dreams pursue her. Finally on a spring day in a March that is passing itself off as May, Erin returns to her glade. She has found peace there before, sitting under the new green of leaves and the speckled patches of sunlight but she is restless on this day and so she follows the call of the water up and out of the glade, past the guarding thornbushes and into shadows that have less and less sun sprinkled through them. The rill becomes a brook, the brook swells into a creek and the creek turns into a stream that rushes over ever steeper rocks.

The path is precarious now, the rocks are covered in moss and lichen and the soft black flats that Erin wears are not meant for adventuring over slippery rocks. At length she comes, stumbling slightly to the spring and here at last the world feels very old and Erin very young indeed. The water tumbles over rocks worn smooth by countless years of spring rains and melting snows and vanishes behind an overhanging rock.

If Erin was less sensible, she would not have had a pocket a full of useful oddities like a whittling knife and a mini lantern-shaped flashlight. If Erin was less adventurous no amount of whittling knives or flashlights would have convinced her that exploring the mysterious sources of streams was worth entering caves.

As it is Erin had never met a challenge that she didn’t feel obligated to rise to and worse (or better) was the sort of person who would be plagued by regret for years afterwards if she did not dare an adventure. This attitude had thus far mostly left her breathless at the top of very high rollercoasters and sunburnt after ill-advised swimming in cold seas and on one memorable occasion jumping out of a plane and down towards the hard ground from two miles up in the air with only a parachute between her and death.

On this particular March afternoon, it led her cautiously into an unexplored cavern with a singing stream on her right and rough stone walls on her left. The pale light of her flashlight caught on veins of quartz and was lost on the hard black of basalt columns as she crept ever deeper towards the heart of the earth.

The path beside the stream was smooth and easy after the wet and dangerous rocks in front of the entrance. The columns marched away on either side and while this part of the world was not known for volcanic activity there was evidence that long ago these mountains had been much more tumultuous. The quiet army of basalt only furthered that impression. Once a very long time ago, the mountains there had tossed their rocky manes into the wind and these solid pillars had been born of fire and heat enough to melt stone itself.

The ceiling grew away from her the further she went and at last it occurred to her that a great deal of time had passed and her flashlight would not last forever. She turned carefully her shoes stirring some sort of glittering grit on the floor of the cavern and headed back out, her hand still trailing the wall though it was on her right now.

The way back passed without major incident as her flashlight was brand new and disinclined to scare her by flickering ominously. At one point her fingers briefly caught on some sort of carved chink, but the rock was smooth and did not break skin and she barely heard a faint click as she passed on unhurt.  

The airy ceilings dropped earthwards again and now she noticed faint trails of glimmering phosphorescence, like bands of stars against the inky shadows beyond the reach of her light.

When she rounded the last bend and saw the pale light widening before her she had a brief thought that the way back had been far shorter than the way in. But such is often the case when venturing into strange new places and she dismissed the thought without much consideration.

The light grew and grew until it was far brighter than she remembered coming in and the entrance far more distinct. Faint thoughts of fairies and myths and half-shaped dreams ran wildly through her mind as the stream gathered in volume and leapt down through a carven channel that had not been there when she entered.

Her mind grasped vainly for some sort of rational explanation, even the dreamiest of romantics struggles to come to terms with stumbling headlong into what by the most common definition is known as magic. She wasn’t scared yet, she was still too shocked but there was a feeling at the back of her head that she should be terrified and that if she stood still for too long she would be frozen in horror.

For now, she concentrated on the solid impossibility before her. The sun was far too bright and she was high, the promontory on which she found herself was far higher than the one she had entered. Below her, steep cliffs fell downwards at impossibly sharp angles, many of them softened only by what appeared to be gardens and terraces. She had a brief thought that this must be what history books called hanging gardens. Below her the valley, if such a gentle word could be applied to the depths before her, fell into a dim haze so far that she could barely make out flickering lights near what she guessed was the ground.

The opposite wall of the gorge glittered and moved like a half-remembered dream of living hills. A second glance distinguished leaping waterfalls and structures that reminded her of both aqueducts and of flying buttresses. A third glance told her overwrought mind that the cataracts were falling too slowly and that what she at first whimsically thought of as hanging gardens were literally hanging with no apparent structural support

#inklingschallenge #genre: portal fantasy #team lewis #imagery: light #imagery: water #story: unfinished #creative writing #fantasy writing #I think I spend too much time describing things because I am more artist than writer #watch me add harps and other musical instruments as I write more

[anipologist]

Nothing else ever quite beats that feeling you had when you first started reading the History of Middle Earth and discovered that Aragorn started out as a shoe-wearing hobbit named Trotter….

Oh the lofty origins of the great House of Telcontar

#jrr tolkien #lord of the rings #lotr #tolkien fandom #Tolkien #aragorn #aragorn elessar #random Tolkien #history of middle earth #tolkien musing #if I remember correctly sam found the shoe thing extremely sketchy

[anipologist]

Wait Halbrand was Sauron? I would have never guessed...man was the least suspicious character in the entire show. Nothing at all about him screamed "I am a violent dark lord who likes metalsmithing."

Like...I'm flabbergasted. The person who was very obviously Sauron from the beginning of the show was....gasp Sauron. And the person who was very obviously Gandalf from the beginning of the show was....gasp Gandalf!

Such convincing plot twists…

I mean once the weird sisters turned up and told me Gandalf was Sauron all thoughts fled my mind and I found myself agreeing. Of course the stranger hanging out in grey rags with hobbits was Sauron. Obviously the show runners had given up hope that my puny mind could comprehend the depths of their convoluted and circumlocutory genius and felt I needed to be ordered to believe that Gandalf was Sauron.

But they tricks us precious! Who could have seen it coming? After telling us that the stranger is Sauron he is not….he is Good? What a twist! I couldn’t have seen that coming if I had a telescope.

And who could have foreseen all the years of working together and cultivating trust and working with Celebrimbor in ring making could all be summed up by a suggestion to use alloys. Who could have thought of such a blatantly obviously solution. Definitely not the grandson of the greatest elven smith to ever live…WHAT A GIFT.

(Currently ignoring the rest of the mithril storyline for my remaining sanity's sake).

Completely unrelated thought…mentioning something about alloys definitely deserves a whole epessë,…maybe we should call this generous character the Lord of Gifts…

Ok, yes I am being sarcastic and snarky but I am just so disgusted. I have had a lot of problems with this show. I didn’t trust Amazon once the first couple episodes started coming out. Apparently I still held onto an entirely undeserved sliver of hope. But for heavens sake this is a caricature of a parody of Tolkien. An entire season of a show literally titled THE RINGS OF POWER and the rings of power turn up for a tiny portion of the final episode.

Another thing....having actors not know who they are actually playing once they start filming is one of the stupidest things the movie/tv industry is currently obsessed with. It makes zero sense from a directorial and acting standpoint and has no payoff except for idiotic headlines like "Sauron actor didn't know he was Sauron". That's so grossly insulting to the actor and the audience.

#the rings of power #anti rings of power #anti rop #anti trop #rings of power critical #trop spoilers #trop critical #rings of power negativity #yes I am venting #i am this close to going up like stupid rube goldberg orodruin #there is so much else wrong with this whole show #but this post would never end if i kept going #particularly the gil-gilad slander #who wrote this show #curufin? #was this revenge after celebrimbor renounced him #the idiocy of galadriel telling halbrand to his face that he is the lost king when he assures her that he isn't #and then having the nerve to feel betrayed when it turns out he was telling the truth

[anipologist]

A Noldo - will scowl violently, swear a dreadful oath and then attack you with fire and sword

A Sinda - will death-glare you, swear an oath to not kill you and then send you on a hopeless quest that will get you killed

A Vanya - will smile winningly and then grab a balrog with their bare hands and shove it over a cliff (but not pull up their pretty hair)

A 1/4 Noldo, 1/4 Vanya, 1/2 Sinda - will look pensive while discussing metaphysics, swear an oath of friendship, join you on the hopeless quest and rip a werewolf apart for you barehanded (just don’t let them pick your codename).

- Beren and Tuor comparing notes in Arda Renewed (Turin tripped on a tree branch on his way to the meeting and dropped the sheaf of literal notes Andreth trusted him with).

#jrr tolkien #tolkien #the silmarillion #the sillymarilly #finrod felagund #lotr #tolkien elves #silmarillion #finrod #feanor #Glorfindel #elu thingol #It’s a joke #I’m pretty sure everyone who’s read the Silm knows which ones their talking about #to be fair they were never actually attacked by fiery Noldor but Beren can testify to the violent part #Olwe has issues with these characterizations #but Beren got stuck dealing with Elwe #and tuor has heard plenty about Feanor

[anipologist]

Baby Arafinweans!

The Swan Princes of Alqualondë

Since there is not nearly enough baby Arafinweans, I present a newly minted big brother Ingoldo and baby Angaráto.

I've seen a lot of Finrod and Galadriel, and Finrod and Aegnor and Finrod and Turgon or Maedhros and Maglor or Fingon so its Angrod's turn. And baby elves are adorable. (In other news, I still can't draw clothes).

Ingoldo is the name that Finrod's siblings called him.

#jrr tolkien #finrod #finrod felagund #angrod #arafinweans #tolkien #tolkien art #silm art #baby elves

[anipologist]

I was thinking today about how long Tolkien's stories have been a part of my life. And I realized that I cannot remember a time before Tolkien. My dad fell in love with his stories when he was a teenager and so naturally passed one of his favorite stories on to his children.

He read the Hobbit aloud to us once we were old enough and even before I could read I remember flipping through David Day's Tolkien Bestiary.

I remember looking with fascinated eyes at Smaug's jeweled waistcoat in the glorious full-color picture of the burning of Laketown or the silver and gold of Telperion and Laurelin.

One of my oldest memories is looking through the section on the Gwaith-i-Mírdain cuddled up next to my dad and discussing very seriously the danger of forging the rings of power and why Celebrimbor thought it was a good idea.

Even my mom who has never read them and isn't very big on fantasy gets the jokes and the quotes we toss around.

But it's not just the memories, it's the impressions that loom so hugely in the mind of a child, honor and tragedy and sorrow and above all hope. I found something new to treasure each time I reread Tolkien.

In middle school I pretended I was crossing the Helcaraxë whenever I was stuck on a longer or more strenuous hike than I wanted to be on. If Galadriel could cross the Grinding Ice then Nienna knows I could struggle on a mile further uphill.

I tried setting Tolkien's songs to folk tunes that I loved at some point in high school and I sang them when I was sad and happy and tired and confused about what I wanted to do in life.

My senior yearbook quote was "above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell" and it felt right. Because even when it's hard to believe that things will right themselves, when it is most hopeless I needed to remember that there are things that evil will never understand or touch. And good heavens did I need that reminder in high school and college.

It occurs to me that the shape of my life, the people fictional and otherwise that I look up to, the virtues that I value would not be what they are without Tolkien's writing.

He may never know how deeply he touched the minds and hearts of generations that he never saw but I would be a different person than I am if one young British soldier in WWI had been killed with so many of his friends. If he had never developed the fantastic imagination that served him so well, if publishers had continued to turn down his writing, if he had been a bit less pushy about fairy-tales and the beauty of sub-creation.

#tolkien #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #jrr tolkien #silmarillion #lotr #tolkien elves #tolkien musing #tolkien meta #silm #tolkien stuff #personal #my meta