Upon my first watch of The Fellowship of the Ring, I found myself drawn by Arwen, Galadriel, Legolas, and even low-opacity Elrond, as funny as that might sound. Elves with their ethereal glow drew me in, and in other fantasy media, elves are my go-to favorite characters when they are present (i.e. Astarion from Baldur’s Gate 3). Samwise Gamgee and I share the same enthusiasm for the Elves of lore, with us both being enchanted by the tales that we both have heard, heard by the former and seen by the latter. It truly is something that is quite odd, for in older tales, Elves are presented as some sort of mischievous creatures and not the image of serenity we think of usually in more modern media (except for Christmas media, of course, but we shan’t brush upon that in this post). So I began to wonder what really drew people like me to really like the Elves of Middle-Earth. So, using Tolkien’s own letters and the day’s lecture (plus some of my own tidbits of knowledge), I set out to find out.
One of the key points that I came across over and over again is the nature of love and its connection to the Elves. That did not surprise me. I have seen many fans in online spaces fawn over the romance of Arwen and Aragorn, with the most notable aspect of their romance in these spaces being that Arwen gave up her immortality to be with Aragorn, her love. Arwen, upon becoming Queen of the Reunited Kingdom, gives Frodo her place on the ship to Valinor. Though this sacrifice seems like a fairytale at first, there is the “bitter and the sweet”, as Arwen described her (and Lúthien’s) sacrifice of leaving her Elven family and forging a new one with the addition of human death. Arwen and Aragorn have a happy marriage, with many children, a peaceful kingdom, and each other. When Aragron passes, she travels to Lórien and passes of a broken heart in the place where they first fell in love. Imagine the pain of heartbreak extended over millenia, where Arwen would have to endure such tragic loss and be unable to join Aragorn
Tolkien himself writes about his Lúthien and his Arwen, his wife Edith. As we have discussed, the love between them withstood much turbulence to persevere. The tale, though written as a somewhat cautionary tale, cannot help but ooze with the love he holds for his wife. He describes his tough decision: choosing between “...disobeying and grieving (or deceiving) a guardian who had been a father to me, more than most real fathers, but without any obligation, and ‘dropping’ the love-affair until I was 21” (Letters no. 43), with the addition of not regretting waiting until he was 21, but stating that it did personally affect him very much being away from Edith. Despite him being away from his future wife, the love he had for her withstood separation and the many trials he undertook on the path of their relationship. She, as Tolkien described, could have gone off many married someone else, but they found and chose each other even after years of separation, her sacrificing her prospects for his self-described “moderate degree” and "dwindling pounds” and even the chance of her becoming a widow for love and family. Such a choice seems romantic yet tragic, much like Arwen’s and Lúthien’s; it is one that could have gone another way had certain events happened, yet both Tolkien’s choice of love and Edith’s choice of love withstood trials, and it came out victorious.
Then I thought about vampires. I think about vampires a lot, actually. Vampires, much like Elves, are so otherworldly that I cannot be helped but to be drawn to them. Louis du Point du Lac says it best in Anne Rice’s novel Interview with the Vampire:
“Do you think us beautiful, magical, our white skin, our fierce eyes? Oh, I remember perfectly what mortal vision was, the dimness of it, and how the vampire’s beauty burned through that veil, so powerfully alluring, so utterly deceiving!” (Rice 261).
This quote, which comes towards the end of the novel, is meant to dissuade a character from becoming a vampire, to which Louis attempts to contrast the nature of the vampire by saying that all that glitters is not gold. The immortal and beautiful vampires shoulder the burden of not being human, and living such long lives oftentimes alone, plagued with many tragedies. Louis speaks from a place of humanity, where he wants to preserve the little he has and the life of another, for his choice plagued him even after the events of the story.
Now, I know you’re wondering, thinking “God, Nicole, how does Interview with the Vampire fit into a discussion on the Elves of Middle-Earth?”
Well, to that I say that immortality in both the worlds of Middle-Earth and in multiple vampire media (Anne Rice’s in particular) are essentially two sides of the same coin. Part of the reason I like vampire media so much is the issue of mortality, and the curse of eternal living. I find the mortality aspect of the immortal fascinating; those who still bear mortal issues oftentime feel miserably trapped by immortality. Louis du Point du Lac retains his “mortal nature” through the unwillingness to let his human side go; he loves, which is enough for him to stay grounded in life despite being dead. When he loses the people he loves most, all of that humanness that he kept was lost, and he was left to shoulder the burden of eternal life with no one to share it with. Louis cannot “un-become” a vampire. His curse is immortal life, and the only way to lift is to die, which is what he sought in the first place. The opposite side of the coin is the Elves, where they are able to relinquish their burden of prolonged life for… death! It is a strange paradox for Elves as compared to vampires and creatures. The more I thought about it, though, the more it made sense to me as to why I liked both creatures.
The issue of humanity is essentially the same. Elves are aspects of the humane, where they express a “devoted love for the physical world” as Tolkien says in Letter 181. Even so, their immortality allows them to watch, caring from afar while shouldering the care. In another letter, Tolkien describes it so:
“The Elves were sufficiently longeval to be called by Man 'immortal'. But they were not unageing or unwearying. Their own tradition was that they were confined to the limits of this world (in space and time), even if they died, and would continue in some form to exist in it until 'the end of the world'. But what 'the end of the world' portended for it or for themselves they did not know(though they no doubt had theories). Neither had they of course any special information concerning what 'death' portended for Men. They believed that it meant 'liberation from the circles of the world', and was in that respect to them enviable. And they would point out to Men who envied them that a dread of ultimate loss, though it may be indefinitely remote, is not necessarily the easier to bear if it is in the end ineluctably certain : a burden may become heavier the longer it is borne.” (Letters no. 245)”
The burden can only be lifted through such a human thing like death.
I am drawn to vampires mainly due to their connection to humanity. Oftentimes, the expression of love, whether it be the last remnants of humanity or showcases of lust through the mechanizations of vampirism. It is why I really like Interview with the Vampire, for the struggle for humanity and the lament of losing it was paramount, and that drew me in. Conversely, it is also why I was drawn to the Arwen and the Elves. The sacrifices they are willing to make for their loved ones shows more humanity than anything. Sacrificing one’s eternal life for love made for such a compelling yet heartbreaking tale that I would not have helped to be drawn. Love is one of the things that makes humans truly human; Christian doctrine (at least, the part that I went over in another class) even dictates that love comes from God, and the love that God gives proves His Creation. Love is a human response, and to love is to be human.
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