Friday, May 8, 2020

I Love it When a Plan Comes Together

The choices of master Ar-Pharazôn drive his civilization into destruction by evoking the heavy hand of God. Tolkien writes, “Ar-Pharazôn hardened his heart, and he went abroad his might ship” (Akallabêth). And with that hardening, because of that fateful exercise of free will, the Numenorean fleet seems to become destined to break the ban of the Valar. And it becomes ever more clear that Ar-Pharazôn’s personal decision is what comes to rule the fate, or doom, of the Numenorans, as Tolkien makes this explicit when the fleet reaches the shores of Valinor. As the fleet comes within view of the holy shores and Ar-Pharazôn gazes upon their sacredness, Tolkien seems to say that even now they could still withdraw and the Numenorans be sealed. The fate of Numenor was never written. It is dependent entirely upon what Ar-Pharazôn decides as he approaches the white shores under a swift sunrise. As Tolkien describes it, “doom hung by a thread,” the thread of choice (Akallabêth). Had Ar-Pharazôn decided to turn back in that moment, perhaps his civilization would have survived. Indeed, this was almost the case, “For Ar-Pharazôn wavered at the end, and almost he turned back. His heart misgave him when he looked upon the soundless shores […]. But pride was now his master.” (Akallabêth). And instead, Ar-Pharazôn decided to step upon the holy land and declare it for his own. And thus, the thread was cut, and the doom of his people sealed by his decision. “Ilúvatar showed forth his power, and he changed the fashion of the world” (Akallabêth

It seems the reason for one man’s decisions having such an agency, as to draw forth the hand of Eru, is because of the gift Ilúvatar bestowed to Men in their creation: “They should have a virtue to shape their life, amid the powers and chances of the world, beyond the Music of the Ainur, which is as fate to all things else” (Silmarillion). Unique among the beings of the world, Men are not bound by the fate cemented in the Music. They have the power to “shape their life” outside the determination of the Music in a way none else can. This, coupled with the Valar granting Men such power and majesty in the Numenorans, seems to create a situation where Men can live so untethered to the Music, that, if they feel so emboldened and so chose, they may challenge the Music itself. That must be what draws Eru’s intervention, that these Men were no longer living beyond the Music, but about to actively disrupt it. 

At the same time, it seems difficult to say whether or not all that was part of the divine plan of Eru or if he interceded to ensure his divine plan remained secure because Men had the potential to disrupt it so. It seems Eru himself would not need to intervene, to change “the fashion of the world” unless it were the latter— that Men’s free will was so powerful that Ilúvatar himself needed to step in to make sure his grander design survived (Akallabêth).  

Another time we see such direct intervention from Eru is before the Music had been sung, before the fate of the world and all those except Men had been cemented. It seems here, before fate was written, Melkor— whom the Numenoreans interestingly title, “the Giver of Freedom”— may have expressed the foreshadowing of free-will, which would have been exclusive to this point of non-time and explains why Eru would not directly intervene later even given all the wanton destruction Melkor would sow across the world, as that would all be part of the Music. There, before the beginning, as the children of Ilúvatar sang in harmony, in accord, “It came into the heart of Melkor to interweave matters of his own imagining that were not in accord with the theme of Ilúvatar; for he sought therein to increase the power and glory of the part assigned to himself” (Ainulindalë). Eru begins to react to this much like the world does to the choices of the Numenoreans, as “about his throne there was a raging storm” (Ainulindalë). Melkor continues to attempt to assert himself and disrupt the Music with his own, but it “seemed that it’s most triumphant notes were taken by the other and woven into its solemn pattern” (Ainulindalë). Indeed, in response to the “discord of Melkor” whose music had “little harmony,” the harmony of the other Ainur is completely disrupted, and Eru himself intervenes twice (Ainulindalë). Finally, in response to these attempts at usurpation, Eru delivers the third and final theme before he declares, “And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite. For he that attempteth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined. […] And thou, Melkor wilt discover all the secret thoughts of thy mind, and wilt perceive that they are but a part of the whole and tributary to its glory” (Ainulindalë).

Indeed, it seems both the attempt by Melkor and Ar-Pharazôn are sourced in the same vanity. “Sauron spoke to the King, saying his strength was now so great that he might think to have his will in all things, and be subject to no command or ban” and so Ar-Pharazôn was emboldened enough to assert himself as, “King of Kings, […] to whom only Manwë alone can be compared, if even he” and to try to assert his will over the will of the Valar (Akallabêth). Likewise, Melkor attempted to assert himself over the other Valar and Eru for he “wished himself to have subjects and servants, and to be called Lord, and to be master over other wills” (Ainulindalë). In the midst of both cases, a great storm emerges, in the one case around the throne of Eru and the other over Numenor. Moreover, Eru’s rebuke to Melkor is repeated by him when he creates Men. First we have, “Ilúvatar knew that Men, being set amid the turmoil of the powers of the world, would stray often, and would not use their gifts in harmony” (Silmarillion). By stating Men would fail to use their gifts in harmony, that immediately recalls to mind the “discord of Melkor” whose music had “little harmony” and disrupted the harmony of the others, just as Men would disrupt the playing of the Music for all others. Ilúvatar continues directly into, “These too in their time shall find that all that they do redounds at the end only to the glory of my work,” which is only a different phrasing of his original rebuke to Melkor stated above (Silmarillion). 

These direct parallels and connections seem almost too explicit and poignant to ignore. Reading Tolkien, it is often our job to not believe in coincidences. While we know, “the Children of Ilúvatar were conceived by him alone; […] and none of the Ainur had part in their making,” we also know “they came with the third theme, and were not in the theme which Ilúvatar had propounded at the beginning” (Ainulindalë). It seems there could be a reason the “Elves believe that Men are often a grief to Manwë” (Silmarillion). There could be a reason Eru marks the creation of Men with the same words he used to rebuke Melkor. “For it seems to the Elves that Men resemble Melkor most of all the Ainur” (Ainulindalë). Men are one of Ilúvatar’s own compositions, but their creation only comes about after and in response to Melkor’s rebellions and sowing of discord in the Music. Perhaps Men are the product of Melkor’s actions being made “tributary” to Eru’s thought and glory. His attempt at asserting himself proved the instrument in making things more wonderful because that is Eru’s instrument and inspiration in making Men. That is not to say Melkor played any role in creating men, as we know none of the Ainur did, moreover, Ilúvatar told Melkor that he could not even imagine the wonderful things Eru would make because of Melkor’s attempts. We also know Melkor “has ever feared and hated [Men]” (Silmarillion). Perhaps the reason for this fear and hatred is because he sees in them the power he so sought from before the dawn of time made, they can work beyond the Music even Melkor is now enslaved to, and they are Eru’s rebuke made manifest. He saw in them what he wanted to have. At the very least, there are far too many coincidences between Men and Melkor and they should be discussed.

Originally I took the rebuke of Melkor and Eru’s comment at the creation of Men to mean there is no act of evil so great that it will not be made to beautify creation in the end, for “oft evil will shall evil mar” (LotR, bk. 3, ch. 11). While that remains true, it also seems clear that one or two acts of free will are so outrageous that they require Eru’s direct contestation to secure the sanctity of his divine will and plan. Eru tells Melkor none can “alter the music in my despite,” which is why it seems clear that to elicit the response from Eru that they did, the Numenoreans must have been on the verge of altering the music (Ainulindalë). Fate—the Music—cannot be changed by any Elf, nor by Melkor himself after the Music has been sung. But Men can alter it, and if emboldened and empowered enough, Ilúvatar himself may need to step in to correct the path of Eä and ensure his divine will is carried out.


Interestingly, we also know, “Nor was all foretold in the Music of the Ainur,” which leaves room for Men to live and move about beyond the constraints of the Music (Silmarillion). But in order for Eru to need to intervene, he must certainly have a divine plan that, while not foretold, Men could still disrupt with their free will. We learned that in the after days, in the time after the Music of Creation has all been sung, that “A greater still shall be made before Ilúvatar by the choirs of the Ainur and the Children of Ilúvatar after the end of days. Then the themes of Ilúvatar shall be played aright, and take Being in the moment of their utterance, for all shall then understand fully his intent in their part” (Ainulindalë). This first Music was not quite right. Or if it was perfect, then the next will somehow be more perfect. Everyone shall understand their part by the end because Eru will make his will known. The story he wanted to tell will be revealed and so everyone will be able to see how their decisions fed into his will. And where the first Music of the Ainur was but a “foreshadowing,” this second Music will “take Being in the moment” it is uttered, perhaps as this Music will be made perfected by the corrections of Men working beyond the Music in unison with the bowling bumpers like role Eru plays in guiding them (Ainulindalë). Men are free to correct the world, but have the power to undo the plan entirely if Eru does not take on this bowling ”bumpers” role. So Men are free, but maybe only so long as they are fulfilling or at least not actively undoing Eru’s will, which will require the hand of Ilúvatar to put them back on track, as we found in the Akallabêth. As free as Man may be, none “can alter the music in [Eru’s] despite” (Ainulindalë, emphasis added). In the end, only one thing is certain: “There are other forces at work in this world Frodo, besides the will of evil. […] And that is an encouraging thought” (LotR, bk.1, ch.2). 



~Tom B(ombadil)


2 comments:

"Tolkien: Medieval and Modern" said...

The "bowling bumpers" metaphor has a number of interesting entailments, as we discovered in discussion! I think I see what you are suggesting—that Iluvatar provides the bumpers by correcting men's mistakes, but why step in *when* he does? Noah's ark springs to mind as another such moment of "correction." Was the Crucifixion such a moment? What would Tolkien say? RLFB

Unknown said...

Thoughtful, good points! I would tend agree with you, that the Numeoreans’—and therefore our—fate “was never written.” Your point that they “may challenge the Music itself,” and that this is foreshadowed in Melkor. Are Men simply “beyond the Music,” as you say, or can they actually change it, and/or disrupt it (are those the same thing)? You first argue that they can (“But Men can alter it [Fate—the Music]), and yet you say at the same time that Iluvatar steps in to ensure his divine will is carried out. Isn’t there a contradiction here? They can alter it but God won’t let them? How free really is their free will if there are “bowling bumpers”? A difficult, perennial question!

Do only Melkor and Men have free will? If so, does it seem as though free will almost necessitate a “fall”? I really like the theory that “Men are the product of Melkor’s actions being made ‘tributary’ to Eru’s thought and glory,” and also that “they are Eru’s rebuke made manifest.” I wonder which men in particular would be a rebuke to Melkor, and why. -LB