On Wednesday, we compared a few pieces of music and discussed what example most closely resembled the Music of Creation. Elements of the music such as the unison, harmony, choral nature of the piece, use of words, lack of words and so on all play roles into fitting what we think of as the Music of the Ainur. Tolkien presents us with the picture of the music, saying, “Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashion the theme of Iluvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies, woven in harmonies, that passed beyond hearing both in the depths and in the heights.” In this description he paints a picture of the music being orchestral, choral, harmonious, but also unknowable. Matt made the argument that names and words are necessary for creation. I see this point as it makes sense in language that the power of the name has a power to it. Such as when God in Genesis gave the Light the name of Day and the darkness the name of Night. Tolkien even directly says that the Ainur are “like unto countless choirs singing with words.” Although he says that they are singing with words, he also likens the voices of the Ainur to instruments. This direct contradiction plays into the idea that the music “passed beyond hearing both in the depths and in the heights.” In other words, no matter what music we say sounds most like the music of creation, it cannot even come close to the true music because it is “so immeasurable.” Mortals cannot possibly comprehend the music as the music, the names, and the words are directly tied with Creative power that mortals have no access to. In the example of water, in which “lives yet the echo of the Music of the Ainur more than in any substance else that is in the world, and many of the Children of Iluvatar hearken still unsated to the voices of the sea, and yet know not for what they listen.” They “know not for what they listen” because they cannot comprehend it. Tolkien even describes this with the Children of Illuvatar as he says “Elves and Men were devised by Iluvatar alone” and “they comprehended not fully that part of the theme when it was propounded to them.”
Music we have is also ineffective in encapsulating the “loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated” music that Melkor broght forth. The music that at first had “no flaws” (which is something that the human mind cannot imagine fully in and of itself) being tainted by Melkor’s attempt to “increase the power and glory of the part assigned to himself” brought forth a “war of sound in which music was lost.” The music itself was still beautiful at brought about “surpassing beauty” in which the things that Melkor brought about made it even more beautiful. Eru tells Melkor that he “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” as well as telling Melkor that he “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.” The sheer scale of the music, the elements of bringing about physical reality as well as emotion is sublime.
All of this adds up to the idea of language and the power of language is divided into two types of power. The power of perception and the power of Creation. Mortals have the power to use language to perceive how they see Creation, and thus alter its meaning and mental image (such as how mortals can view Melkor’s additions to the song as evil or see them as challenges that make goodness a possibility). Illuvatar and his Ainur have the power of Creation and can use unknowable language to craft reality and give their power to it. It may be possible that at the end of days, these two powers of language will be used together as the second music comes to pass. Music that, compared to the Ainulindule, “has been said that a greater still shall be made before Iluvatar by the choirs of the Ainur and the Children of Iluvatar after the end of days.”
A slightly unrelated concept I have been thinking about is that of free-will. Both for Men as Eru bestowed upon them the gift that “the hearts of Men should seek beyond the world and find no rest therein; but they should have a virtue to fashion their life, amid the powers and chances of the world, beyond the Music of the Ainur, which is as fate to all things else” as well as for the Ainur who came from Illluvatar’s thought. Melkor is described as having his own ambitions for the secret Fire and for power as “being alone he had begun to conceive thoughts of his own unlike those of his brethren.” Do these different thoughts mean he has free-will. Eru tells him that “that no theme may be played that has not its uttermost source in me, nor can any alter the music in my despite” and so does this mean he as no will of his own? Men are told to “resemble Melko most of all the Ainur” but Melkor cannot create separately from Eru’s design and theme. I have no answer to this but found the comparison interesting.
-Jared Zuker
5 comments:
Thank you for your blog post! I really enjoyed your commentary on music. You talk at length about how our (human) conception of music is so impotent compared to that of Eru, that the Ainur participate in, that we are unable to comprehend or even conceptualize its form or mode. In your words "Mortals cannot possibly comprehend the music as the music, the names, and the words are directly tied with Creative power that mortals have no access to." I totally agree, but I think, also, there is a certain bidirectionality to consider here that helps explain why Tolkien chose music as Eru's vessel for creation.
While we have a certain understanding of music (we understand it is composed of tones, we understand, largely, the function of harmonies and melodies, etc.) it is also deeply mysterious. No one can adequately explain, given a masterful concerto, why it actually evokes such strong feelings. It can be broken down into artifice, into harmony and counterharmony, into notes, but the fundamental why of its effect, of the deep, human stirring which it can evoke, is actually unanswered. In fact, music theory and physics continue to move us closer and closer to the physical and intellectual building blocks of music (neural networks can even create music that, on first listen, you'd ascribe to an artist: https://openai.com/blog/jukebox/) but we are no closer to actually understanding the deep causality between the artistry of music and its emotional and spiritual effect on the listener than the ancients were.
I would argue that there are two, linked insufficiencies of understanding here: firstly, as you point out, the insufficiency of us, as mortals, to understand Eru Iluvatar's music in terms of our own; and secondly, the ability of us to even understand the profound creative soul of our own music. I think the latter of these meaningfully reinstates the former.
A similarity can also be noted between the Word, of Genesis, and the word of literature. We can break down literature, but the actual causality, the sublime inspiration, say, of a Donne poem, is elusive by the same token.
- MHK
I would have liked to hear more about the difference you mention between the power of perception and the power of Creation as it applies both to language and to music. Can music create in the way language does? What do you mean by *creation* through language? Can human beings create in this way or only sub-create? Is the Ainur's music a creation or a sub-creation? RLFB
I like your connection between music, power, and free will, and I'm curious what happens if we take the concept of power literally. Namely, what would Tolkien think about computerized music, which requires power to create and play?
You mentioned how Melkor's music is "loud, vain, endlessly repeated," which sounds like a calling card for festival music. Furthermore, you mention how Melkor brought about a "war of sound in which music was lost," which begs the question of what we consider music. To be fair, Coachella music is not a fair test candidate since it is pretty clearly described in terms of Melkor's style of music - let's consider computerizing classical music instead.
The voices of the Ainur are compared in simile to musical instruments, meaning that despite losing a degree of humanity, instruments are able to recreate the music of creation. However, what happens if we go one step further and use computers to simulate instrument sounds? Can a manmade creation like a computer be able to capture the music of creation in its full glory?
On one hand, musical instruments like harps and trumpets are also manmade, but including them in the voices of the Ainur promotes them to celestial status, which computers have yet to accomplish. This would mean, in our thought experiment, that a symphony orchestra could capture the wonder of the music of creation, but a digitized symphony orchestra, no matter how good, cannot. This creates a paradox that requires the introduction of free will.
The concept of free will here is useful because it shows the choice men have between accepting the music of creation and approximating it with their own earthly tools. Thus, by attempting to fully digitize (no recordings, just computer-generated music)the music of creation, we have chosen to never exactly replicate the musical wonder.
(BC2)
I enjoyed your attention to detail in thinking through the paradox that what is described aurally is, of course, inaudible to any mortal ear (to any physical ear, as well). I'm curious what you would make of the idea that it is the Sea, Ulmo's domain, that preserves most of the original music within Arda. In biblical imagery, the Sea is often portrayed as the domain of fear and chaos, whence Leviathan comes. But here Tolkien invokes a different tradition, taking the sea as the means by which blessing and healing come to men.
I'm not at all persuaded by the sharp distinction you draw between the "power of perception" and the "power of creation." It seems that the Valar, too, must do some perceiving in order to do their subcreating. They have to preserve their memory of the Music to do their work of ordering and stewarding Arda, even in the teeth of apparent evidence to the contrary (the formlessness of the world, and Melkor's disorders.
One of the challenges of portraying free will's going wrong is that the evil done must really be bad, a genuine rebellion against the way things were supposed to be, and yet no threat at all to an omnipotent God. That is, I take it, at least part of what is going on with Illuvatar's declaration that Melkor, despite all his bitterness, can only add to the great theme.
^LJF!
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