Stephen Barkley
Few books are worth reading more than once; this is one of them. Admittedly, the first time through was a struggle. I was young and the archaic language mixed with the abundance of names in various languages was a struggle. I finished, but barely. This time was different.
Since my first reading, I worked my way through the three “great stories” of the first age:
Having the rough outlines of these stories in my mind helped me orient myself in the larger work.
My secret weapon this time through was “The Silmarillion Seminar,” a series of 90-minute discussions—one per chapter—hosted on The Tolkien Professor. The discussion clarified some issues, helped with pronunciation, and helped me to prioritize which characters to pay attention to.
The final piece that helped me to understand The Silmarillion was grasping the fictive authorship. The Lord of the Rings was a narrative written by Hobbits—thus the gripping action and compressed time frame. The Silmarillion was penned by the long-lived elven race. This is why Quenta Silmarillion moves from dialogue to a summary statement that transports the reader a few centuries ahead.
Tolkien’s moral vision gripped me. There’s a profound goodness at stake, a goodness that doesn’t just separate Melkor from the elves, but runs through both elves and men—all the children of Ilúvatar. In Tolkien’s world, suffering is profoundly realized. But without suffering, there would be no beauty.
The Silmarillion forces the reader to slow down and make repeated use of the glossary and maps—but the pearl is more than worth the price of the field.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Silmarillion. George Allen & Unwin, 1977.
