Words Which They Only Partly Understood -- The First Hymn to Elbereth (FR 1.iii.79)

‘Listen! They are coming this way,’ said Frodo. ‘We have only to wait.’ 

The singing drew nearer. One clear voice rose now above the others. It was singing in the fair elven-tongue, of which Frodo knew only a little, and the others knew nothing. Yet the sound blending with the melody seemed to shape itself in their thought into words which they only partly understood. This was the song as Frodo heard it: 

    Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!
         O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
    O Light to us that wander here
        Amid the world of woven trees! 

    Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!
        Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!
    Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
        In a far land beyond the Sea.  

    O stars that in the Sunless Year
        With shining hand by her were sown,
    In windy fields now bright and clear
        We see your silver blossom blown! 

    O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
        We still remember, we who dwell
    In this far land beneath the trees,
        Thy starlight on the Western Seas. 

(FR 1.iii.79)

Where is the partial understanding here? It cannot be of the sentences as such, since 'the song as Frodo heard it' is quite clear syntactically. So it must be the meaning of the content that eludes the hobbits. This suggests a limit to the power of elvish song. For elvish minstrels, we are told in The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen, 'can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen' (RK App. A 1058), a statement which is made in the context of The Lay of Leithian. When telling a tale, elvish minstrels can create the impression that the listener is inside it. But this is a hymn of praise, which invokes images without telling their story. 

So, even though elvish minstrelsy can overcome the barrier of language, it cannot overcome that of ignorance through allusions alone. While Frodo recognizes the name of Elbereth, and knows that the High Elves, i.e., the Noldor, have great reverence for her, the rest of the song is obscure to him, presumably because he lacks the knowledge to make sense of the references to the Sunless Year and Elbereth's sowing of the stars.

See how hard life was before Bilbo's Translations from the Elvish?

Frank Wilbert Stokes -- 1902

Gandalf, Odin, and the Wolf's Belly (FR 2.iv.298)

At Ragnarök the monstrous wolf, Fenrir, will swallow Oðinn, some of whose attributes Tolkien drew on in envisioning Gandalf, whom he saw as an 'Odinic wanderer' (Letters, no. 107).¹  Gandalf shows this in The Lord of the Rings, as Marjorie Burns points out, 

by wearing a broad-brimmed hat and carrying a walking staff, as the wandering Odin does, though Gandalf's association with eagles, his enmity with wolves, and his ownership of a nearly supernatural horse add to this as well.²

All of which leads me to think that Sam's remark when the Company is being menaced by wolves is a joke on Tolkien's part:

'My heart's right down in my toes, Mr. Pippin,' said Sam. 'But we aren't etten yet, and there are some stout folk here with us. Whatever may be in store for old Gandalf, I'll wager it isn't a wolf's belly.' 

(FR 2.iv.298)

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¹ See John Lindow, Norse Mythology: A Guide to Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs, Oxford (2001) 111-14, 247-52, 254-58.

² Marjorie Burns, Norse and Christian Gods: The Integrative Theology of J. R. R. Tolkien, in Tolkien and the Invention of Myth: A Reader, ed. Jane Chance, The University of Kentucky Press (2004) 168; Marjorie Burns, Gandalf and Odin in Tolkien's Legendarium, edd. Verlyn Flieger and Carl Hostetter, Greenwood Press (2000) 219-31. Gandalf, however, would have balked at the claim that he owned Shadowfax, a horse that carried riders only by his own consent. In Perilous Realms: Celtic and Norse in Tolkien’s Middle-earth, University of Toronto Press (2005) Burns rightly notes that Odin's fate is hinted at in Sam's words, but overlooks their humor.

Let me have hobbits about me that are fat (TT 4.viii.714)

Gielgud as Cassius

In Shakespeare's Julius Caesar 1.2.193-96 Caesar points out Cassius to Antony and comments:

Let me have men about me that are fat;
Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights:
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

To anyone moderately acquainted with Julius Caesar these lines are quite familiar, and to say that someone has 'a lean and hungry look' has passed into the language as a warning against treachery. The words function much like a kenning, telling the reader more of a story than the words alone say. Now consider the following: 

Gollum looked at them. A strange expression passed over his lean hungry face. The gleam faded from his eyes, and they went dim and grey, old and tired. A spasm of pain seemed to twist him, and he turned away, peering back up towards the pass, shaking his head, as if engaged in some interior debate. Then he came back, and slowly putting out a trembling hand, very cautiously he touched Frodo's knee – but almost the touch was a caress. For a fleeting moment, could one of the sleepers have seen him, they would have thought that they beheld an old weary hobbit, shrunken by the years that had carried him far beyond his time, beyond friends and kin, and the fields and streams of youth, an old starved pitiable thing.

(TT 4.viii.714)

Thus, even as Gollum's teeters on the brink of repentance we find a hint that he is dangerous and not to be trusted, but at the same time the use of this phrase here deepens the pathos by sharpening the contrast between Gollum, never to be trusted, and Sméagol, shrunken, starved, and pitiable.

Guest Post -- Luke Baugher on Tulkas and "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight"

Tulkas, a question of the influence of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

     On Tuesday of this week, I began a read-through of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. My text is that found in Medieval English Literature edited by Thomas Garbáty. This is an enchanting read and all the more enjoyable in its original language. I was working my way through the description of Arthur's Christmas feast when I came across the word tulkes in line 41:

Þer tournayed tulkes bi-tymez ful mony,
Justed ful iolilé þise gentyle kniȝtes,
Syþen kayred to þe court, caroles to make.[1]

Tulkas © Steamey

     In this edition, the definition ascribed to tulkes is "knights." As I have always been an avid Tolkien fan, this immediately struck me as very phonetically similar to Tolkien's character Tulkas. So I decided to do a little digging. What follows is some of the interesting information that I have found, with the helpful suggestions of several much respected Tolkien scholars.

    Initially, an etymological approach might shed some light on the association as, most Tolkien fan know, this field is intimately connected with The Professor's creativity.  The Oxford English Dictionary indicates that tulkes is "Generally identified with Old Norse túlkr interpreter, spokesman,"[2] which is related to the rarely attested Old Norse túlk, a verb meaning "to utter sound, to sound."[3] Although it also notes that "nothing has been found to connect the Middle English sense, common in alliterative verse, with these."[4] In order for us to find a connection, let's follow the advice of Carl F. Hostetter and look at how Tolkien himself has defined tulkes. Hostetter notes that:

In the Middle English glossaries prepared by Tolkien that bear on this matter (that for SGGK and that for Sisam's Fourteenth Century Verse and Prose), he glosses tulk(e) (tolke) as 'man, knight' (SGGK), or just 'man' (Sisam), and refers it to the Old Norse cognate túlk-r 'spokesman'. [5]

     So, to follow Hostetter's logic, the sense in which Middle English tulke means "man" "is a secondary development." He goes on to elaborate "its further sense "knight" being then a tertiary development."[6] So the sense in which tulke means "man" is more prevalent, while the sense in which it means "knight" is a derivative thereof, perhaps caused by context. While this etymological trace is very interesting, it does not actually solve whether or not this word could have inspired Tolkien.

          

     Perhaps looking more in-depth at Tolkien's name Tulkas will help illuminate a connection. Tulkas’s characterization certainly conforms to many of the traits laid out by tulke in that he is a male, and he does partake in youthful shows of strength and competition like one would expect of knights. Tolkien's descriptions of Tulkas certainly highlight these attributes:

Greatest in strength and deeds of prowess is Tulkas, who is surnamed Astaldo, the Valiant. He came last to Arda, to aid the Valar in the first battles with Melkor. He delights in wrestling and in contests of strength; and he rides no steed, for he can outrun all things that go on feet, and he is tireless. His hair and beard are golden, and his flesh ruddy; his weapons are his hands. He has little heed for either the past or the future, and is of no avail as a counsellor, but is a hardy friend.[7]

     For an even closer connection, Tolkien defined tulkas. In his reflection on the subject, Jason Fisher also notes the connection between tulkes and tulkr, but extends his observation by noting that "within the legendarium, Tulkas is Quenya meaning 'strong, steadfast.'"[8] In the Appendix to The Book of Lost Tales 1, the context of Tolkien’s name is given contest:

QL gives the name under root TULUK, with tulunka ‘steady, firm’, tulka- ‘fix, set up, establish’. The Gnomish form is Tulcus (-os), with related words tulug ‘steady, firm’, tulga- ‘make firm, settle, steady, comfort’.[9]

     So now we are starting to form a bridge between two disparate words and finding a common ground. Fisher contends an additional definition of tulkr as "fighting man."[10] This background leads Patrick Wynne to observe:

There seems to be a clear logical connection between 'fighting man' and 'strong' (the former habitually having the latter attribute). The sort of game that Tolkien played with such allusions...would suggest that in later days, dim memories of the vala Tulkas 'Strong' as a skilled fighter resulted in the Quenya name influencing (or being the direct source of) words such as ON tulkr and ME tulkes.[11]

     So we have finally arrived at a tentative link etymologically, to compound with the phonetic similarity that started these observations. Although these links are possible, I cannot overstate the caution that we should use when ascribing motivation to Tolkien's creative process.

            

     When directly talking about whether or not this word could have served as an inspiration for Tolkien, caveats abound. Nelson Goering cautions that "It certainly seems possible, though obviously it's hard to know for sure."[12] He observes that

"If Tolkien traced the etymology of the word back, as is not unlikely, he would have arrived at Lithuanian tul̃kas... As an old Baltic word that found its way into various Germanic languages... it's the sort of thing that might have lodged somewhere in the back of his mind (maybe)."[13]

     So the jury is out on whether or not this word could be the inspiration behind Tolkien's creation of the grappling Vala, but the similarities are tantalizing regardless. Who knows, "he may well have found the sound/sense correspondence suggested by ME tulk(e) pleasing, regardless of ultimate etymology."[14]

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[1] “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” Medieval English Literature. Ed. Thomas Garbáty. Long Grove: Waveland, 1997. 255-332. Print. (257, emphasis mine).

[2] "† tulk | tolk, n." OED Online. Oxford University Press, December 2015. Web. 16 December 2015.

[3] "† tulk, v." OED Online. Oxford University Press, December 2015. Web. 16 December 2015.

[4] "† tulk | tolk, n." OED Online. Oxford University Press, December 2015. Web. 16 December 2015.

[5] Hostetter, Carl F. " In the Middle English glossaries prepared by Tolkien that bear on this matter (that for SGGK and that for Sisam's Fourteenth Century Verse and Prose), he glosses _tulk(e)_(_tolke_) as 'man, knight' (SGGK), or just 'man' (Sisam), and refers it to the Old Norse cognate _túlk-r_ 'spokesman'." Facebook. 15 Dec. 2015. [16 Dec. 2015 < https://www.facebook.com/groups/61115826282/permalink/10153187834231283/>]

[6] Ibid.

[7] Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1977. Print. (28).

[8] Fisher, Jason. " Yes, probably. The Old Norse form of the same word is tulkr "fighting man", which is even closer to the form Tolkien used. Though within the legendarium, Tulkas is Quenya meaning "strong, steadfast"." Facebook. 15 Dec. 2015. [16 Dec. 2015. <https://www.facebook.com/groups/61115826282/permalink/10153187834231283/comment_id=10153189216071283&notif_t=group_comment>]

[9] Tolkien, J.R.R. The Book of Lost Tales 1. Ed. Christopher Tolkien. New York: Ballantine, 1983. Print. (313).

[10] Ibid.

[11] Wynne, Patrick. " Yeah, there seems to be a clear logical connection between 'fighting man' and 'strong' (the former habitually having the latter attribute). The sort of game that Tolkien played with such allusions (as Carl F. Hostetter and I used to discuss in our column "Words and Devices" in VT) would suggest that in later days, dim memories of the vala Tulkas 'Strong' as a skilled fighter resulted in the Quenya name influencing (or being the direct source of) words such as ON _tulkr_ and ME _tulkes_." Facebook. 15 Dec. 2015. [16 Dec. 2015. < https://www. facebook.com/groups/61115826282/permalink/10153187834231283/?comment_id=10153189216071283&notif_t=group_comment>]

[12] Goering, Nelson. "It certainly seems possible, though obviously it's hard to know for sure. If Tolkien traced the etymology of the word back, as is not unlikely, he would have arrived at Lithuanian tul̃kas (yes, the circumflex is meant to be above the 'l' - that's Lithuanian for you...). As an old Baltic word that found its way into various Germanic languages (northern German into Norse into English), it's the sort of thing that might have lodged somewhere in the back of his mind (maybe)." Facebook. 15 Dec. 2015. [16 Dec. 2015. <https://www.facebook.com/ groups/61115826282/permalink/10153187834231283/?comment_id=10153189216071283&notif_t=group_comment>]

[13] Ibid.

[14] Hostetter, Carl F. "Which is NOT to say that ME _tulk(e)_ 'man, knight' DIDN'T inspire Tolkien's "Tulkas" — he may well have found the sound/sense correspondence suggested by ME _tulk(e)_ pleasing, regardless of ultimate etymology. Because after all, etymology is NOT determinative of meaning (if it were, then languages would never change, and we would almost all be speaking Proto-Indo-European...). It's just to say that the meaning of _tulk(e)_ as exhibited in SGGK isn't in fact primary." Facebook. 15 Dec. 2015. [16 Dec. 2015. <https://www.facebook.com/ groups/61115826282/permalink/10153187834231283/>]

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Thanks so much, Luke, for an interesting note on another possible connection between Tolkien's scholarly and mythological worlds. While we must be cautious, as Nelson Goering rightly emphasizes, so little in Tolkien seems to have happened by chance. As I read your note I was struck by the 'tulkes' jousting 'ful iolilé' and the 'delight' which Tulkas took 'in wrestling and contests of strength.' And of course Tulkas also 'laughs ever, in sport or in war, and even in the face of Melkor he laughed in battles before the Elves were born' (Silmarillion, 29).  Nicely done. 

Morþorhete and the Spirit of Mordor

The day after Sam rescues Frodo from the tower of Cirith Ungol, two orcs, an Uruk and a smaller tracker, nearly catch them, but a fight breaks out between them:

The big orc, spear in hand, leapt after him. But the tracker, springing behind a stone, put an arrow in his eye as he ran up, and he fell with a crash. The other ran off across the valley and disappeared.  

For a while the hobbits sat in silence. At length Sam stirred. 'Well I call that neat as neat,' he said. 'If this nice friendliness would spread about in Mordor, half our trouble would be over.' 

'Quietly, Sam,' Frodo whispered. 'There may be others about. We have evidently had a very narrow escape, and the hunt was hotter on our tracks than we guessed. But that is the spirit of Mordor, Sam; and it has spread to every corner of it. Orcs have always behaved like that, or so all tales say, when they are on their own. But you can't get much hope out of it. They hate us far more, altogether and all the time. If those two had seen us, they would have dropped all their quarrel until we were dead.'  

(RK 6.ii.927)

As is often the case with Tolkien a glance at Beowulf can prove interesting. For in line 1105 we encounter a word that suits the orcs and Frodo's description of them perfectly.  It is morþorhete, a compound of morþor, whose primary meaning is 'murder' and from which of course derives 'Mordor', and hete, 'hate.' Morþorhete, occurring only here in extant Old English, denotes a murderous or deadly hatred. Keep in mind, moreover, that every time we see orcs interacting with each other, whether they are of different kinds, as here, of different loyalties (TT 3.iii.444-60), or of different commands (TT 4.x.734-42; RK 6.i.899-910, they always come to blows. So the word is generally applicable to orcs. 

In Beowulf the word appears in the account of the oath that was meant to restore peace after the attack on Finnsburgh:

  Ða hie getruwedon    on twa healfa                        1095

  fæste frioðuwære.    Fin Hengeste         

    elne unflitme    aðum benemde

    þæt he þa wealafe    weotena dome

    arum heolde,    þæt ðær ænig mon

    wordum ne worcum    wære ne bræce,                   1100

    (ne) þurh inwitsearo    æfre gemænden,

    ðeah hie hira beaggyfan    banan folgedon,

    ðeodenlease,    þa him swa geþearfod wæs.

    Gyf þonne Frysna hwylc    frecnen spræce

    ðæs morþorhetes    myndgiend wære,                    1105

    þonne hit sweordes ecg    syððan scede.*

Then they concluded strong terms
Of peace for both sides. Finn declared
On oath to Hengest, nobly, with no dispute,
That he, by the authority of his council,
And with acts of kindness, would rule
The sad remnant, that neither by word
Nor by deed would any man break the accord,
Nor through malice would they ever complain --
Though, kingless now, they followed the killer
Of their generous lord: it had been
Necessary for them. Then if any of the Frisians
With reckless speech called to mind
Their murderous hate, a sword would settle it.*

The connection here is not to be found in the details of the story of Finn and Hengest, but in the morþorhete that remains alive just below the surface, so ready to break forth that only the threat of violence can suppress it even temporarily.  In the end the terms do not prove strong enough, any more for Finn and Hengest than for the orcs Frodo and Sam see in Mordor.  A passion so strong can unite or divide.

© Tim Kirk

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*The translation offered above is mine, based on the text and notes in Klaeber's Beowulf (Toronto, 2014). It may not be elegant, but I believe that it is at least not inaccurate. There are, however, points in the Old English that are not entirely clear, but these do not touch the issue of morþorhete directly.