The Book of Lost Tales, Part 2 Read online

  Carcaras is spelt thus subsequently in the typescript.

  (20)…as fast as her dancing feet would flit.

  Now when the guards awoke it was late in the morning, and they fled away nor dared to bear the tidings to their lord; and Dairon it was bore word of the escape of Tinúviel to Thingol, for he had met the folk that ran in amazement from the ladders which each morning were lifted to her door. Great was the mingled grief and wrath of the king, and all the deep places of his court were in uproar, and all the woods were ringing with the search; but Tinúviel was already far away dancing madly through the dark woods towards the gloomy foothills and the Mountains of Night. ’Tis said that Dairon sped swiftest and furthest in pursuit, but was wrapped in the deceit of those far places, and became utterly lost, and came never back to Elfinesse, but turned towards Palisor; and there he plays subtle magic musics still, wistful and lonely in the woods and forests of the south.

  Now fared Tinúviel forward, and a sudden dread overtook her at the thought of what she had dared to do, and of what lay before her. Then did she turn back for a while, and wept, wishing that Dairon were with her. It is said that he was not indeed at that time far off, and wandered lost in Taurfuin, the Forest of Night, where after Túrin slew Beleg by mishap. Nigh was Tinúviel to those evil places; but she entered not that dark region, and the Valar set a new hope in her heart, so that she pressed on once more.

  (21) Seldom was any of the cats slain indeed; for in those days they were mightier far in valour and in strength than they have been since those things befell that thou art soon to learn, mightier even than the tawny cats of the southern lands where the sun burns hot. No less too was their skill in climbing and in hiding, and their fleetness was that of an arrow, yet were the free dogs of the northern woods marvellously valiant and knew no fear, and great enmity was between them, and some of those hounds were held in dread even by the greatest of the cats. None, however, did Tiberth fear save only Huan the lord of the Hounds of Hisilómë. So swift was Huan that on a time he had fallen upon Tiberth as he hunted alone in the woods, and pursuing him had overtaken him and nigh rent the fur of his neck from him ere he was rescued by a host of Orcs that heard his cries. Huan got him many hurts in that battle ere he won away, but the wounded pride of Tiberth lusted ever for his death.

  Great therefore was the good fortune that befell Tinúviel in meeting with Huan in the woods; and this she did in a little glade nigh to the forest’s borders, where the first grasslands begin that are nourished by the upper waters of the river Sirion. Seeing him she was mortally afraid and turned to flee; but in two swift leaps Huan overtook her. Speaking softly the deep tongue of the Lost Elves he bade her be not afeared, and “wherefore,” said he, “do I see an Elfin maiden, and one most fair, wandering thus nigh to the places of the Prince of Evil Heart?

  (22) What is thy thought, O Huan?”

  “Little counsel have I for thee,” said he, “save that thou goest with all speed back to Artanor and thy father’s halls, and I will accompany thee all the way, until those lands be reached that the magic of Melian the Queen does encompass.” “That will I never do,” said she, “while Beren liveth here, forgotten of his friends.” “I thought that such would be thy answer,” said he, “but if thou wilt still go forward with thy mad quest, then no counsel have I for thee save a desperate and a perilous one: we must make now all speed towards the ill places of Tiberth’s abiding that are yet far off. I will guide thee thither by the most secret ways, and when we are come there thou must creep alone, if thou hast the heart, to the dwelling of that prince at an hour nigh noon when he and most of his household lie drowsing upon the terraces before his gates. There thou mayst perchance discover, if fortune is very kind, whether Beren be indeed within that ill place as thy mother said to thee. But lo, I will lie not far from the foot of the mount whereon Tiberth’s hall is built, and thou must say to Tiberth so soon as thou seest him, be Beren there or be he not, that thou hast stumbled upon Huan of the Dogs lying sick of great wounds in a withered dale without his gates. Fear not overmuch, for herein wilt thou both do my pleasure and further thine own desires, as well as may be; nor do I think that when Tiberth hears thy tidings thou wilt be in any peril thyself for a time. Only do thou not direct him to the place that I shall show to thee; thou must offer to guide him thither thyself. Thus thou shalt get free again of his evil house, and shalt see what I contrive for the Prince of Cats.” Then did Tinúviel shudder at the thought of what lay before, but she said that this rede would she sooner take than to return home, and they set forth straightway by secret pathways through the woods, and by winding trails over the bleak and stony lands that lay beyond.

  At last on a day at morn they came to a wide dale hollowed like a bowl among the rocks. Deep were its sides, but nought grew there save low bushes of scanty leaves and withered grass. “This is the Withered Dale that I spake of,” said Huan. “Yonder is the cave where the great

  Here the typescript version of the Tale of Tinúviel ends, at the foot of a page. I think it is improbable that any more of this version was made.

  NOTES

  1 For earlier references to Olórë Mallë, the Way of Dreams, see I.18, 27; 211, 225.

  2 The distinction made here between the Elves (who call the queen Wendelin) and, by implication, the Gnomes (who call her Gwendeling) is even more explicit in the typescript version, p. 42 (‘’tis a tale of the Gnomes, wherefore I beg that thou fill not Eriol’s ears with thy Elfin names’) and p. 45 (‘The Prince of Cats, whom the Gnomes have called Tiberth Bridhon Miaugion, but the Elves Tevildo’). See I.50–1.

  3 The manuscript as originally written read: ‘Now Beren was a Gnome, son of a thrall of Melko’s, some have said, that laboured in the darker places…’ See note 4.

  4 The manuscript as originally written read: ‘I Beren of the Noldoli, son of Egnor the huntsman…’ See note 3.

  5 From this point, and continuing to the words ‘forests of the south’ on p. 21, the text is written on detached pages placed in the notebook. There is no rejected material corresponding to this passage. It is possible that it existed, and was removed from the book and lost; but, though the book is in a decayed state, it does not seem that any pages were removed here, and I think it more likely that my father simply found himself short of space, as he wrote over the original, erased, version, and (almost certainly) expanded it as he went.

  6 The text as originally written read: ‘came never back to Ellu, but plays…’ (for Ellu see Changes to Names below). As a result of the interpolation ‘but turned towards Palisor’ Palisor is placed in the south of the world. In the tale of The Coming of the Elves (I. 114) Palisor is called ‘the midmost region’ (see also the drawing of the ‘World-Ship’, I.84), and it seems possible that the word ‘south’ should have been changed; but it remains in the typescript (p. 47).

  7 The Tale of Turambar, though composed after the Tale of Tinúviel, was in existence when Tinúviel was rewritten (see p. 69).

  8 From ‘amazed utterly’ to ‘if Tinúviel were not there’ (p. 30) the text is written on an inserted page; see note 5—here also the underlying textual situation is obscure.

  9 A short passage of earlier text in pencil becomes visible here, ending: ‘…and Tinúviel grew to long sorely for Wendelin her mother and for the sight of Linwë and for Kapalen making music in pleasant glades.’ Kapalen must be a name preceding Tifanto, itself preceding Dairon (see Changes to Names below).

  10 this Gnome: original reading this man. This was a slip, but a significant slip (see p. 52), in all probability. It is possible that ‘man’ was used here, as occasionally elsewhere (e.g. p. 18 ‘as high as men could fashion their longest ladders’, where the reference is to the Elves of Artanor), to mean ‘male Elf’, but in that case there would seem no reason to change it.

  11 Struck out here in the manuscript: ‘Beren of the Hills’.

  12 ‘Mablung the heavy-handed, chief of the king’s thanes, leaped up and grasped a spear’ replaced the
original reading ‘Tifanto cast aside his pipe and grasped a spear’. Originally the name of Tinúviel’s brother was Tifanto throughout the tale. See notes 13–15, and the Commentary, p. 59.

  13 Mablung replaced Tifanto, and again immediately below; see note 12.

  14 ‘O King’ replaced ‘O father’ see note 12.

  15 In this place Mablung was the form as first written; see the Commentary, p. 59.

  16 It is essential to the narrative of the Coming of the Elves that the Solosimpi were the third and last of the three tribes; ‘second’ here can only be a slip, if a surprising one.

  Changes made to names in

  The Tale of Tinúviel

  (i) Manuscript Version

  Ilfiniol < Elfriniol. In the typescript text the name is Ilfrin. See pp. 201–2.

  Tinwë Linto, Tinwelint In the opening passage of the tale (p. 8), where Ausir and Vëannë differ on the forms of Tinwelint’s name, the MS is very confused and it is impossible to understand the succeeding stages. Throughout the tale, as originally written, Vëannë calls Tinwelint Tinto Ellu or Ellu, but in the argument at the beginning it is Ausir who calls him Tinto Ellu while Vëannë calls him Tinto’ellon. (Tinto) Ellu is certainly an ‘Elvish’ form, but it is corrected throughout the tale to the Gnomish Tinwelint, while Ausir’s Tinto Ellu at the beginning is corrected to Tinwë Linto. (At the third occurrence of Tinwë in the opening passage the name as originally written was Linwë: see I. 130.)

  In the tales of The Coming of the Elves and The Theft of Melko in Part One Ellu is the name of the second lord of the Solosimpi chosen in Tinwelint’s place (afterwards Olwë), but at both occurences (I. 120, 141) this is a later addition (I. 130 note 5, 155). Many years later Ellu again became Thingol’s name (Sindarin Elu Thingol, Quenya Elwë Singollo, in The Silmarillion).

  Gwendeling As the tale was originally written, Wendelin was the name throughout (Wendelin is found in tales given in Part One, emended from Tindriel: I. 106–7, 131). It was later changed throughout to the Gnomish form Gwendeling (found in the early Gnomish dictionary, I. 273, itself changed later to Gwedhiling) except in the mouth of Ausir, who uses the ‘Elvish’ form Wendelin (p. 8).

  Dairon < Tifanto throughout. For the change of Tifanto > Mablung at the end of the tale (notes 12–14 above) see the Commentary, p. 59, and for the name Kapalen preceding Tifanto see note 9.

  Dor Lómin < Aryador (p. 11). In the tale of The Coming of the Elves it is said (I. 119) that Aryador was the name of Hisilómë among Men; for Dor Lómin—Hisilómë see I. 112. At subsequent occurrences in this tale Aryador was not changed.

  Angband was originally twice written, and in one of these cases it was changed to Angamandi, in the other (p. 35) allowed to stand; in all other instances Angamandi was the form first written. In the manuscript version of the tale Vëannë does not make consistent use of Gnomish or ‘Elvish’ forms: thus she says Tevildo (not Tifil), Angamandi, Gwendeling (< Wendelin), Tinwelint (< Tinto (Ellu)). In the typescript version, on the other hand, Vëannë says Tiberth, Angband, Melian (< Gwenethlin), Thingol (< Tinwelint).

  Hirilorn, the Queen of Trees < Golosbrindi, the Queen of the Forest (p. 18); Hirilorn < Golosbrindi at subsequent occurrences.

  Uinen < Onen (or possibly Únen).

  Egnor bo-Rimion < Egnor go-Rimion. In the tales previously given the patronymic prefix is go-(I. 146, 155).

  Tinwelint < Tinthellon (p. 35, the only case). Cf. Tinto’ellon mentioned above under Tinwë Linto.

  i·Cuilwarthon < i·Guilwarthon.

  (ii) Typescript Version

  Tinúviel < Tynwfiel in the title and at every occurrence until the passage corresponding to MS version p. 11 ‘yet now did he see Tinúviel dancing in the twilight’ there and subsequently the form typed was Tinúviel.

  Singoldo < Tinwë Linto (p. 41).

  Melian < Gwenethlin at every occurrence until the passage corresponding to MS version p. 12 ‘the stateliness of Queen Gwendeling’ there and subsequently the form typed was Melian.

  Thingol < Tinwelint at every occurrence until the passage corresponding to MS version p. 12 ‘by winding paths to the abode of Tinwelint’ there and subsequently the form typed was Thingol.

  For Egnor > Barahir see p. 43.

  Commentary on

  The Tale of Tinúviel

  § 1. The primary narrative

  In this section I shall consider only the conduct of the main story, and leave for the moment such questions as the wider history implied in it, Tinwelint’s people and his dwelling, or the geography of the lands that appear in the story.

  The story of Beren’s coming upon Tinúviel in the moonlit glade in its earliest recorded form (pp. 11–12) was never changed in its central image; and it should be noticed that the passage in The Silmarillion (p. 165) is an extremely concentrated and exalted rendering of the scene: many elements not mentioned there were never in fact lost. In a very late reworking of the passage in the Lay of Leithian* the hemlocks and the white moths still appear, and Daeron the minstrel is present when Beren comes to the glade. But there are nonetheless the most remarkable differences; and the chief of these is of course that Beren was here no mortal Man, but an Elf, one of the Noldoli, and the absolutely essential element of the story of Beren and Lúthien is not present. It will be seen later (pp. 71–2, 139) that this was not originally so, however: in the now lost (because erased) first form of the Tale of Tinúviel he had been a Man (it is for this reason that I have said that the reading man in the manuscript (see p. 33 and note 10), later changed to Gnome, is a ‘significant slip’). Several years after the composition of the tale in the form in which we have it he became a Man again, though at that time (1925–6) my father appears to have hesitated long on the matter of the elvish or mortal nature of Beren.

  In the tale there is, necessarily, a quite different reason for the hostility and distrust shown to Beren in Artanor (Doriath)—namely that ‘the Elves of the woodland thought of the Gnomes of Dor Lómin as treacherous creatures, cruel and faithless’ (see below, p. 65). It seems clear that at this time the history of Beren and his father (Egnor) was only very sketchily devised; there is in any case no hint of the story of the outlaw band led by his father and its betrayal by Gorlim the Unhappy (The Silmarillion pp. 162ff.) before the first form of the Lay of Leithian, where the story appears fully formed (the Lay was in being to rather beyond this point by the late summer of 1925). But an association of Beren’s father (changed to Beren himself) with Úrin (Húrin) as ‘brother in arms’ is mentioned in the typescript version of the tale (pp. 44–5); according to the latest of the outlines for Gilfanon’s Tale (I. 240) ‘Úrin and Egnor marched with countless battalions’ (against the forces of Melko).

  In the old story, Tinúviel had no meetings with Beren before the day when he boldly accosted her at last, and it was at that very time that she led him to Tinwelint’s cave; they were not lovers, Tinúviel knew nothing of Beren but that he was enamoured of her dancing, and it seems that she brought him before her father as a matter of courtesy, the natural thing to do. The betrayal of Beren to Thingol by Daeron (The Silmarillion p. 166) therefore has no place in the old story—there is nothing to betray; and indeed it is not shown in the tale that Dairon knew anything whatsoever of Beren before Tinúviel led him into the cave, beyond having once seen his face in the moonlight.

  Despite these radical differences in the narrative structure, it is remarkable how many features of the scene in Tinwelint’s hall (pp. 12–13), when Beren stood before the king, endured, while all the inner significance was shifted and enlarged. To the beginning go back, for instance, Beren’s abashment and silence, Tinúviel’s answering for him, the sudden rising of his courage and uttering of his desire without preamble or hesitation. But the tone is altogether lighter and less grave than it afterwards became; in the jeering laughter of Tinwelint, who treats the matter as a jest and Beren as a benighted fool, there is no hint of what is explicit in the later story: ‘Thus he wrought the doom of Doriath, and was ens
nared within the curse of Mandos’ (The Silmarillion p. 167). The Silmarils are indeed famous, and they have a holy power (p. 34), but the fate of the world is not bound up with them (The Silmarillion p. 67); Beren is an Elf, if of a feared and distrusted people, and his request lacks the deepest dimension of outrage; and he and Tinúviel are not lovers.

  In this passage is the first mention of the Iron Crown of Melko, and the setting of the Silmarils in the Crown; and here again is a detail that was never lost: ‘Never did this crown leave his head’ (cf. The Silmarillion p. 81: ‘That crown he never took from his head, though its weight became a deadly weariness’).

  But from this point Vëannë’s story diverges in an altogether unexpected fashion from the later narrative. At no other place in the Lost Tales is the subsequent transformation more remarkable than in this, the precursor of the story of the capture of Beren and Felagund and their companions by Sauron the Necromancer, the imprisonment and death of all save Beren in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth (the Isle of Werewolves in the river Sirion), and the rescue of Beren and overthrow of Sauron by Lúthien and Huan.

  Most notably, what may be referred to as ‘the Nargothrond Element’ is entirely absent, and in so far as it already existed had as yet made no contact with the story of Beren and Tinúviel (for Nargothrond, not yet so named, at this period see pp. 81, 123–4). Beren has no ring of Felagund, he has no companions on his northward journey, and there is no relationship between (on the one hand) the story of his capture, his speech with Melko, and his dispatch to the house of Tevildo, and (on the other) the events of the later narrative whereby Beren and the band of Elves out of Nargothrond found themselves in Sauron’s dungeon. Indeed, all the complex background of legend, of battles and rivalries, oaths and alliances, out of which the story of Beren and Lúthien arises in The Silmarillion, is very largely absent. The castle of the Cats ‘is’ the tower of Sauron on Tol-in-Gaurhoth, but only in the sense that it occupies the same ‘space’ in the narrative: beyond this there is no point in seeking even shadowy resemblances between the two establishments. The monstrous gormandising cats, their kitchens and their sunning terraces, and their engagingly Elvish-feline names (Miaugion, Miaulë, Meoita) all disappeared without trace. Did Tevildo? It would scarcely be true, I think, to say even that Sauron ‘originated’ in a cat: in the next phase of the legends the Necromancer (Thû) has no feline attributes. On the other hand it would be wrong to regard it as a simple matter of replacement (Thû stepping into the narrative place vacated by Tevildo) without any element of transformation of what was previously there. Tevildo’s immediate successor is ‘the Lord of Wolves’, himself a werewolf, and he retains the Tevildo-trait of hating Huan more than any other creature in the world. Tevildo was ‘an evil fay in beastlike shape’ (p. 29); and the battle between the two great beasts, the hound against the werewolf (originally the hound against the demon in feline form) was never lost.