The Magic of the Minstrels

Two things you won’t find any mention of in Tolkien’s Middle-earth are clowns and actors. Nor will you find any reference to plays, drama, jugglers, acrobats, or theaters, carnivals, fairs, and circuses. [ON EDIT: Okay, Beorn mentioned a circus.]

What did the people of Middle-earth do for their entertainment? They appear not to have had any great arenas like the Romans, no theatrical houses, nor travelling entertainers, nor any of the trappings of a tradition of drama or comedy.

The two great forms of exposition in Middle-earth were story-telling and song. But though everyone seems to like a good story or song, there is little evidence of professional development for either form of exposition. In fact, only two professional minstrels are mentioned in The Lord of the Rings. Gleowine was Theoden’s minstrel, and after he wrote the funeral song which the Riders of Rohan sang around Theoden’s mound he never made another song again. And some unnamed minstrel of Gondor composed the lay of “Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom” (assisted with the title of the lay by Sam).

For a book that is filled with songs and references to ancient lays, one might almost expect to see a scop or bard leap out of every chapter, roaming from town to town to keep the masses entertained. But instead there is no real indication of a roaming class of entertainers. In Eriador the Rangers occasionally bring stories to the Bree-folk, and the hobbits who travel between the Shire, the Buckland, and Bree share stories, but that’s about it.

The strong implication appears to be that professional entertainment was rare and limited to the larger societies. Rohan and Gondor could support minstrels but not the small populations of the northern countries. And so it may be that a royal or noble patronage was required to sustain professional entertainers. Patronage is an ancient custom which really only died out with the advent of copyright and mass production. Artists and writers can now generate their own incomes directly, but for millennia they had to rely on someone else to pay the bills.

In a world like Tolkien’s Middle-earth there could be no question of an artist making a living from the production of a song or picture except in a very large, very wealthy society such as Gondor. And yet, the Middle-earth portrayed by The Lord of the Rings is not the whole picture. Sauron had been at work for two thousand years, wearing down his enemies, estranging Elves, Men, and Dwarves from one another. There are, in fact, faint echoes of a richer tradition of entertainment in the story Tolkien tells us.

“There was an Elvish song that spoke of this,” Treebeard says to Merry and Pippin when he tells them of the Ents’ long separation from the Entwives. “It used to be sung up and down the Great River.” He sings for them, taking the part of Ent and Entwife, and says the song is Elvish. And Treebeard also says “there were songs about the hunt of the Ents for the Entwives sung among Elves and Men from Mirkwood to Gondor.”

All the great songs and stories, of course, seem to be Elvish in origin. Aragorn sings part of a lay about Beren and Luthien for Frodo and the Hobbits on Weathertop. “There are none now, except Elrond, that remember it aright as it was told of old,” he says. “It is a fair tale, though it is sad, as are all the tales of Middle-earth.”

Why are all the tales of Middle-earth sad? It may be that the Elves were more moved by the sad tales than by the happy ones, and therefore they composed their greatest lays about their greatest griefs. The only song composed in Aman which is named was “Aldudenie”, made by Elemmire of the Vanyar. It was apparently carried to Middle-earth by the Exiles, or learned by them after the War of Wrath when the Host of Valinor was reunited with the Exiles in what remained of Beleriand. And “Aldudenie” recalls the grief of the Elves and Valar over the slaying of the Two Trees.

The Elvish gift for song was supplemented by the Elves’ sub-creative powers, their “magic”. In the tale of Aragorn and Arwen, he thought he had conjured an image of Luthien when he first saw Arwen, because he had been singing a part of the lay of Beren and Luthien, “and he halted amazed, thinking that he had strayed into a dream, or else that he had been given the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen.”

If the art of the Elves was near-forgotten by the end of the Third Age, it must have been in full swing at its beginning. The Eldar had been the dominant civilization in Middle-earth for thousands of years. After the War of Wrath there wasn’t much left of civilization, except for the Dwarven cities in the Misty Mountains and beyond. So Gil-galad and his people set about rebuilding civilization as the Dunedain set sail over Sea to create their own civilization in far away Numenor.

The Eldar of Lindon spread out through Eriador, and established the realm of Eregion, and some of the Sindar migrated east and possibly south to establish new kingdoms far beyond Gil-galad’s reach. The Sindarin realms may not have achieved the same things as their Noldorin counterparts, in terms of building a great civilization, but they were still Elven realms, and all the Elves had a gift for song.

Although a few reactionary factions like Oropher’s may have wanted to divest themselves of Eldarin culture and become more like the Avari and Nandor of the east, they remained members of an ancient race with ancient traditions. They built their homes in the forests of the Vales of Anduin but they still lived in cities and engaged in trade or some form of contact with their neighbors. Elvish songs must have been heard throughout northern Middle-earth for much of the Second Age.

One aspect of Elvish culture that remains largely obscure is the tradition of the Wandering Companies. Although Frodo, Sam, and Pippin encounter Gildor Inglorion and his people, they are Exiles, Noldor, who are returning from a sort of pilgrimage in Lindon to their homes in or near Rivendell. They are not greatly concerned with affairs in Middle-earth and keep to themselves.

In the early Second Age there were many Wandering Companies in Eriador, and these appear to have been composed mostly of Nandor. Their concerns would have been very different from those of Gildor’s folk, who were only “tarrying” for a while before finally taking ship over Sea. The Nandorin Wandering Companies must have been integrated with the Eldarin civilization of Lindon eventually, either because the Elves of Lindon increased in population and spread eastward, or because the Nandor would have been forced to take refuge with the Noldor and Sindar in Lindon during the War of the Elves and Sauron.

The Wandering Companies may therefore have played a significant role in the greater culture of the Elves throughout much of the Second Age. They should have become conveyors of news and song. They could have become traveling entertainers. Although Tolkien never compares the Wandering Companies to gypsies or circus troupes, they must have shared some similarities to such cultures. Traveling families or clans develop their own customs and traditions. They may assimilate some aspects of the cultures they visit but they are often viewed as outsiders and their existence demands they maintain customs that a sedentary people don’t possess.

And so it is reasonable to ask if the Wandering Companies did not, at some time, become the entertainers of Middle-earth. When the Eldar were the dominant civilization and the cities of northern Middle-earth spoke Sindarin the Wandering Companies would have provided an easy means of spreading new songs and stories throughout the lands. The Elvish minstrels need not have studied the great mining secrets of Aule or learned the mysteries of the oceans from Ulmo and Osse in order to compose and perform their magical songs.

Visions of great warriors, beautiful maidens, the enchanted trees, and other Elvish lore may have danced before the eyes of multitudes throughout Middle-earth. Men might have found such entertainment strange and foreign, or perhaps even frightening, but one gets the impression that the Edainic peoples of Eriador shared something like the close friendship with the Elves that the Edain of Beleriand had known. If the Elves didn’t go out of their way to entertain Men, they may nonetheless have allowed Men to visit their communities and share in the magic.

Such a bond between Elf and Man may only have become stronger as the Numenoreans began to settle in Eriador. The Faithful Numenoreans migrated to northern Middle-earth as the Kings Men made their ancient homeland more and more unfriendly. By the time Elendil arrived in Lindon Eriador must have had a large population of Dunedain or Men of Mixed blood. The friendship between the Eldar and the Dunedain would have sustained and promoted interaction between the two races.

So perhaps Elves visited Elendil’s court in Annuminas, and Elves entertained the Dunedain of Tharbad, Fornost Erain, Osgiliath, and Pelargir. It may be that the establishment of the realms of Arnor and Gondor initiated a brief period of near equality between Elf and Man in cultural exchange. As the Eldar of Tol Eressea delighted in visiting Numenor, it may be that the Eldar of Lindon also visited Arnor and Gondor, bringing gifts and sharing memories and old experiences.

Of course, all good things come to an end eventually, and the friendship between Eldar and Edain waned in Middle-earth. Gil-galad and Elendil were drawn into a great war with Sauron and many Elves died upon the battlefields. In the aftermath Middle-earth gained a respite, but the Elvish civilization of Lindon was diminished. Cirdan and Elrond retained their ancient friendship with the Dunedain, but the Third Age marked the decline of Eldarin culture in Middle-earth.

The Wandering Companies must eventually have become fewer in number. The Dunadan cities dwindled and vanished. Men became fearful and mistrustful of the Elves, the Elves became wary of Men, and time marched on toward the inevitable estrangement of the races. The Elves who passed up and down the Anduin singing songs about the Ents and Entwives proably vanished with the rise of Dol Guldur. Thranduil led his people north and they lost contact with the Elves of Lothlorien. The friendly Men of the Vales of Anduin were gradually displaced by Easterlings brought in by Sauron.

In the south Gondor must have remained close in friendship with the Elves of Edhellond, but that city was eventually abandoned by its folk before the last King of Gondor disappeared. In the days of the Stewards Men who visited the Elves became few. If Silvan Elves passed through Gondor on their way to the Sea they would not be molested, but neither may they have been invited to stay. The story of Mithrellas, handmaiden of Nimrodel, and her Dunadan husband ends sorrowfully, for she leaves him in the night.

In time it fell to the Dunedain to remember the Elvish songs, and to perform them. But the Dunedain waned and dwindled, and they became more concerned with surviving in a hostile world, and slowly forgot their ancient lore. And when the Dunedain of Arnor had passed on to the wilderness the Men and Hobbits who remained behind remembered little if anything at all of the great Elvish civilization. The Wandering Companies stayed to themselves.

The Shire-Hobbits became so conservative they didn’t have to go far even within the borders of their own land in order to seem out of place. So it’s unlikely that any of them traveled through the Shire singing songs or telling stories. These traditions were reduced to local custom. Everyone told the tales and sang the songs, and no one earned special recognition for any particular gift or talent. The families and communities entertained themselves. The inns drew in occasional travelers (mostly Dwarves) who might share new songs and stories, or long-forgotten tales, and by a slow process the amalgamation of disparate cultures and experiences continued.

In a way the process of developing great traditions of story-telling and song-making must have begun all over again. For bereft of the Elvish influence Men still needed to exchange news and remember the great deeds of their heroes. But though they might achieve great beauty in their own way, they lacked the magic which would have enhanced the art of the Elvish minstrels. The deeds of Men outlasted the deeds of Elves, but the songs of Men could do no more than vaguely recall the enchantment of the Middle-earth that had once been.

This article was originally published on September 2, 2000.

See also:

• Who Were the Rings of Power Made for?
• Can Dwarves Use Magic?
• Can Men Use Magic in Middle-earth?
• How Did Elvish Magic Work in Middle-earth?
• Magic by Melkor: No Returns Accepted (Classic essay)
• Moving Sale: Magic Rings and Other Trinkets Half Off (Classic essay)
• What Were the Toys of Dale Like?
• Did Aragorn Use Any Magic?
• How Rare Was Magic in Middle-earth? Should Gamers Have Lots of Magic Items?
• The Belt Buckle of Truth (just for fun)

8

Click to Like