С. Б. Лихачева (Likhachyova Svetlana)
Анализ формы и содержания произведения
Д. Р. Р. Толкина "Лэ о
Лейтиан"(жанровые особенности, тематика, проблематика, перевод).
Linguistic and Contextual Analysis of the
"Lay of Leithian" by
J.R.R.Tolkien(genre peculiarities, themes, problems, translation).
Дипломная работа
студентки факультета английского языка
Московского Государственного Лингвистического Университета
научный руководитель - к.ф.н. Федосенок И.В.
Рецензент - доц. Змиевская Н.А.
Москва - 1993
Content
INTRODUCTION
The story of Beren and Lúthien, one of the central legends of the
"Silmarillion", which on the whole was meant as "the mythology for England",
was evidently valued more by its author than anything else he wrote. In fact,
he never left off working at it, therefore it counts a considerable number of
versions, and undergoes many stages of development closely associated with
Tolkien's own life, though the essential features of the story were never
changed. The three principal versions are "The Tale of Tinuviel" ("Lost
Tales"), the "Silmarillion" story of Beren and Lúthien and the unfinished
"Lay of Leithian", the subject of this particular study.
The chief reason of its attractiveness to the author himself is probably in
the following: the story is in a way self-projected, having close biographic
associations. The inscription on the tombstone of Tolkien's wife reads: "Edith
Mary Tolkien, 1889-1971, Lúthien", which, as the widowed author wrote to
his son "says for me more than a multitude of words: for she was (and she knew
she was) my Lúthien". He proceeds to say "I hope none of my children will
feel that the use of this name is a sentimental fancy... I never called Edith
Lúthien - but she was the source of the story that in time became the
chief part of the "Silmarillion" ("Letters", Letter 340). His own
tombstone, as a matter of fact, bears the inscription "Beren".
Tolkien's love for Edith lies behind Beren's love for Lúthien"(Randel
Helms), that is what perhaps makes this particular story the most profound
and moving of all the tales of Eldalie, the one worked out with the
greatest elaborateness and care, endowed with greater precision of detail and
emotional force. Beren's meetings with Lúthien in a woodland glade among
hemlocks and all the consequent man-elf meetings echo Tolkien's own encounters
with Edith in the countryside near Roos. In the letter cited above Tolkien
recalls Edith of those days: "her hair was raven, her skin clear, her eyes
brighter than you (Chris) have seen them, and she could sing - and dance".
There are many more personal parallels than it seems on the face of it. Being
an immortal child of Thingol and Melian, Lúthien is of course much older
than Beren; the real Edith was three years older than John, and at the age
that they met the difference of age is felt rather keenly by adolescents; she
probably seemed to him far wiser and superior in a way. Lúthien, the
immortal elf-maiden, was originally different from the human Beren; Edith, the
Protestant Anglican, was likewise different from the Roman Catholic Tolkien;
bu, as Lúthienchanged her nature out of love for Beren, Edith became a
convert to Catholicism before they were married. Tolkien was an orphan like
Beren; and his relentless guardian Father Francis was strongly against their
union, just like King Thingol, and insisted upon the young people not seeing
each other until his ward was twenty-one; a considerably easier task, one
should admit, than the one set by Thingol. Still, John and Edith's union
marking the end of a lengthy period of separation and unhappiness is not
unlike that of Beren and Lúthien.
But these biographical allusions are not the chief value of the story; to my
mind it can be regarded as a gist, so to speak, of the philosophic and ethical
concepts of the author, the principal problems being the problem of Death and
Immortality, the role of Fate, the dilemma of "race-changing" and rightfulness
of such "race-apostasy", the problems that pervade the literary heritage of
Tolkien at all levels and cannot claim a single solution.
The many-dimensional nature of Tolkien's creative heritage admits of various
and versatile approaches which are manifest in the main trends of the
criticism. There is the sophisticated tracing of sources, reviving the
literary traditions of the past and marking out the elements of the transmyth;
the attempts to reconstruct the mechanisms of mythopoeia, bringing forth the
secondary worlds theory; there are detailed analyses of the ethical and
philosophic concepts of the author and their possible projection on modern
life dilemmas. Some critics are engaged in comparative literary analysis or
purely linguistic investigations of certain aspects of Quenya and Sindarin
(see "Introduction to Elvish"). The scale of critical reviews also differ:
from global works embracing the whole mythological system to selective ones,
concentrating their attention on a particular book or poem. In my case
unfinished poem "Lay of Leithian" becomes the subject of literary analysis.
The tasks that I set for myself are to define the genre peculiarities of the
work in question, focusing my attention of the poetic form and introducing
elements of stylistic analysis, to determine the influence of the poetic
tradition of Breton lays, bringing into comparison the creative heritage of
Marie de France and the epic tradition, and to provide a theoretical basis for
the philological translation of the work in question, bringing light upon
certain controversial points and difficulties that a translator inevitably
comes across. In my work I recurred to the method of comparative literary
analysis, bringing into comparison various genres and trends. Lexicographic
analysis elements of etymological analysis were used, in the parts dealing
with onomastics in particular.
The structure of the paper mainly depends on the gradual realization of the
tasks set at the beginning. Chapter 1 is dedicated to the investigation of the
genre peculiarities of the ancient and modern samples of lays, and tracing the
elements of other poetic traditions encompassed in the Lay. A brief stylistic
analysis of the poem aims at emphasizing its literary merits, deciphering the
aesthetic information that the poem comprises and determining language means
and stylistic devices employed by the author. Chapter 2 is meant to apply the
theoretical conclusions made in Chapter 1 to the translation process of the
work in question. I intend to show how the stylistic peculiarities and tropes
used by the author and characteristic of this particular genre can be
transposed into the Russian language with a greater degree of approximation to
the original. Trying to outline an adequate approach I used various
illustrative material derived from the already existing prose and poetic
translation versions. And, finally, the postulates of Chapter 2 were assumed
as a basis for my own translation version of the selected Cantos which are
supplemented in the Appendix.
The "Lay of leithian", which unfortunately remains unfinished, provides a
broad field for further literary and linguistic investigation, being of
interest as a draft of a greater, completed prose-work and being in itself a
work of Art, endowed with indispensable literary values. The emotional impact
of the poem as such is still to be estimated. In his article "The Dethronement
of Power" C. S. Lewis sums up the impression left of him by the "Lord of the
Rings" in the following terms: "The book is too original and too opulent for
any final judgement on a first reading. But we know at once that it has done
things to us. We are not the same men". I suppose, the same commentary is more
than applicable to the "Lay of Leithian".
PLAN OF CHAPTER 1
1. Comparative Literary Analysis of a work of art;
2. The "Lay of Leithian" as an Eldarin Epic and part of Tolkien's secondary
world;
3. Lay as a literary genre. Origin. Marie de France as a creator of the genre;
4. Sources. The matter of Britain;
5. Breton lays and the Lay of Leithian. Similarities and difference;
1) Verisimilitude;
2) Classification;
3) Titles;
4) Onomastics: toponymy and anthroponymy;
5) Structure of lays. Compositional frameworks;
6) Problems of lays. The notion of Quest and Adventure. Interrelations between
the real and the Faerie world;
7) Symbolic system of lays;
8) Characters of lays;
9) Stylistic analysis of lays;
6) Conclusion.
CHAPTER 1.
THE POETIC TRADITION OF BRETON LAYS AND MARIE DE FRANCE IN J.R.R.TOLKIEN'S
"LAYS OF BELERIAND".
It would be more than injust to say that J.R.R.Tolkien was directly
influenced by any literary tradition or any separate work known to us in
this particular book as well as in any other. Tolkien himself did not
particularly approve of the academic search for "sources". He thought it
led to distracting attention from the work of art itself and
to undervaluing the artist by the suggestion that he had "got it all from
somewhere else" (T.A.Shippey "The Road to Middle-earth" p.220). Here it
would be appropriate to quote the unforgettable Screwtape's definition of
the so-called Historical Point of View as a convenient weapon of the
tempters; something that comes close to the comparative literary analysis in
Literature: "The Historical Point of View, put briefly, means that when a
learned man is presented with any statement of an ancient author, the one
question he never asks is whether it is true. He asks who influenced the
writer...and what phase in the general history of thought it illustrates, and
what the general course of criticism on it has been for the last ten years,
and what is the "present state of question" (C.S.Lewis "The Screwtape
letters" p.306). As far as the prose works are concerned, it has become
traditional to mention "Beowulf" and other relics of old English poetry, the
Old Norse Sagas, the Finnish epic "Kalevala" as sources, though Professor
Tolkien did not seem to like it at all. He was irritated by the "Lord of the
Rings" being compared with "Der Ring des Nibelungen", for instance. "Both
rings were round, - he snarled, - and there the resemblance
ceased" (T.A.Shippey "The Road to Middle-earth" p.220).
Nevertheless, it seems to be quite proper to offer a brief guide to
certain works that were surely familiar to Tolkien, and to draw a few
comparisons which might provide a deeper penetration into the textual
structure and the poetic matter of the book in question. A great
connoisseur of ancient epics and literary traditions of the past, he could
not help being in some way influenced by certain forms and motives; as far
as the "Lays of Beleriand" is concerned, I'd even say Tolkien deliberately
imitated certain literary forms, though transforming them to the necessary
extent so that they could fit most naturally with his own "secondary
world". The literary tradition that I would like to bring to light is that
of the so-called Breton lays and that of Marie de france. As for the
"present state of question", there are no detailed investigations of the
problem that I know of, though the name of marie de France has been
mentioned more than once in connection with Professor Tolkien's creative
activity. On the whole, the genre of lays was no alien to him. There exist
some imitation of Marie de france by Tolkien, entitled "Aotrou and
Itroun", 1945, though I did not happen to get hold of it. There exist his
brilliant translation of "Sir orfeo", the anonymous Breton lay, composed
probably in the South-east of England in the latter part of the thirteenth
century or at the beginning of the fourteenth, most probably translated
from the French original; preserved in three manuscripts (Tolkien's
translation follows the Auchinleck text with some emendations). And,
finally, there exist that wonderful, moving and enchanting "Lay of
Leithian", the chief source of the tale of Beren and Lúthienin the
"Silmarillion" - this purely original work of Eldarin art, which evokes in
memory the more familiar lays of Men.
When considering ancient epics, we inevitably treat them as an integral
part of cultural heritage of this particular ethnos at this particular
stage of its historical development, at some initial period merging with
"true history". Indeed if we go back we cannot say whether we shall find
"myth dissolving into history or history into myth"("Sauron Defeated"
p.249). The psychology of the time and the race leaves a distinct imprint
on any work of art. this is absolutely true about the "lais de Breton".
That is particularly true of the "Lays of Beleriand". The thing is, it
is not meant to be part of Professor Tolkien's creative activity, but of
that of his characters, it is an essential constituency of the secondary world
that Tolkien is said to have created. I would call it a case of "secondary
subcreation', if i may say so: the author creates an alternative reality, and
the inhabitants of that alternative reality create their own poetic
tradition."Enchantment (the more potent and specially Elvish craft) produces a
Secondary World into which both designer and spectator can enter, to the
satisfaction of their sences while they are inside" (J.R.R.Tolkien "On
Fairy-stories" p.52-53).
The world of Arda, too minutely described not to be real, with its own
geography, history, cosmology (real to such an extent that we know the
arbitraries of the main rivers, the composition of certain alloys, the
flora and fauna of particular regions and so forth) cannot make do without
its own epic tradition. Actually in Tolkien's world there is more than one
of them: from the verbose, sonorous Entish versification to the rustic
nonsence-verses of the hobbits (cf. "Errantry" or "Mewlips"), well
represented in the Red Book. The "Lays of Beleriand" belongs to the epic
tradition of the Eldar, the race that is said to be an incarnation of the
artistic side of human nature ("...The Elves represent, as it were, the
artistic, aesthetic and purely scientific aspects of human nature raised
to a higher level than is actually seen in Men..."R.L.Purtill
"J.R.R.Tolkien: Myth, Morality and Religion"), the tradition cherished
through countless ages, with its refined intricacies of line and stanza,
deep structures of hidden meaning and exquisite complexity of form. That
genre of Breton lays of the twelfth-thirteenth century with their strong
Celtic flavour was chosen by the author as a pattern for imitation
probably because it produces the impression of being very ancient, rooted
in the beginning of time, recalling a myth in its purest and authentic
form; on the other hand this particular form suits the purpose of
narrative poetry at the same time allowing to achieve intricate variations of
syntax, melodiousness of verse, great multitudiousness and depth of meaning.
That is surely an epic, but that of a people that differs a great deal from
those who populated the mediaeval European countries. Hence the similarities
and differences between those two types of lays. I would dare say that the
"Lays of Beleriand" is an old form filled with the new context.
The very title of Tolkien's book bears the word "lay". Actually, it is a
collection of the author"s major poetic works, including a version of the
"Lay of the Children of Hurin", the "Lay of leithian" and a few
extracts from the poems early abandoned (the "Flight of the Noldoli", "lay
of Earendil' and the "lay of the Fall of Gondolin"). The "Lay of the
Children of Hurin" and the unfinished extracts are examples of the
alliterative verse, very close to the Anglo-Saxon heritage. But to the
"Lay of Leithian"the term "lay' in its original meaning seem to be
perfectly applicable. This brilliant literary imitation bears a distinct
imprint of the author's personality and his own vision of the world, which
in no way spoils the impression of authenticity. That accounts for the
fact that Professor Tolkien's friend C.S. lewis chose a witty and original way
of commenting upon it: he contrived his criticism as a heavily academic
commentary on the text, pretending to treat the Lay as an ancient anonymous
work extant in many more or less corrupt manuscripts, overlaid by scribal
perversions in antiquity and the learned argumentations of nineteenth-century
scholars. The text does look as if it were indeed an authentic document,
though obviously distinct from those that are; but it certainly loses nothing
in comparison with the best examples of Breton lays as far as its literary
value is concerned.
One more approach that can be applied to the "Lays of Beleriand" is to
treat it as an attempt of the resuscitation of the obscure genre that
lived for a short period of time, restricted to Marie de France's creative
activity and a few more or less successful imitations. As I have mentioned
before, the form was not chosen at random. The octosyllabic couplet of
romance suits wonderfully the epic tradition, "if one wishes to avoid
monotony and sing-song in a very long poem". So what is the genre that
professor Tolkien managed to resuscitate?
The term "lay" is probably derived from the Irish "laid", "loŒd",
which means "a song, first applied to the so-called "lais de Breton". We
know the term mostly in connection with the name of Marie de France, the
one who is considered to be the first to have devised this particular
poetic form. As it is presented by marie de France, a lay may be defined
as a rather longish poem, varying from a hundred to a thousand lines,
which retells preferably some sentimental and romantic love-story. The
dictionary definition would be:"a short lyric or narrative poem meant to
be sung" (The Concise Oxford Dictionary). The gravity and elevation of
tone that reign there, the choice of the subject, in many a case
fantastic, aristocratic and courteous characters - these are the typical
traits of this genre. As I have mentioned, Breton lays existed before and
irrespective of Marie, but in this case we mean something different. At
the beginning the term "Breton lays" related to musical compositions of a
peculiar character, of which little is known except that they were also of
Celtic origin and differed a great deal from the French musical tradition
of the time. It was their "strangeness" and "novelty" that accounts for
the great success of the Welsh and Breton musicians when they began to
introduce these compositions at the seignorial courts of England and
France. The texts that accompanied the music, if any, were most probably
lyrical ones, pure folklore,the recitation of remarkable adventures. Most
likely, they served as a source of inspiration for Marie de France, who
decided to collect some of those bizarre tales and to retell them in
verse. In this respect we can say that the genre of lay as such did not
exist before Marie de France and therefore she must be considered a true
creator of this literary form which sprang into being alongside with the
genre of courteous romance.
Marie gives us a summary information about these mysterious breton lays
which did not survive to be known by us:
De cest conte qu'o‹ avez
Fu Guigemar li lais trovez,
Que hom fait en harpe et en rote;
Bon‰est a o‹r la note.("Guigemar")
(Of this tale that you haveheard they composed the lay of Guigemar. It is
sung by heart accompanied by the harp, And the air is very beautiful).
Breton lays are actually referred to more than once in Marie's works. In
the "Lay of Eliduc" she makes a reference to "un molt ancien lai
Breton" (The most ancient breton lay).
As for the personality of Marie de France, she seems to be a rather
shadowy figure. She is thought to be the author of three surviving works:
the Lays, a collection of Fables and a didactic, supernatural tale called
"St. Patric's Purgatory". But we know next to nothing about the author,
except for what she wanted us to know about her - small notices and hints
inserted here and there in her works. Even the name that she bears
nowadays in the annals of the world literature is not strictly speaking
her own -- it is but a happy coinage of Claude Fauchet who extracted it
from one of Marie's poems where she gives her first name and that of her
Motherland:"Marie ai nom, si sui de France" ("Marie is my name, I am of
France" Epilogue to the collection of Fables). She was born in the second
half of the twelfth century, the epoch of the high tide of the ancient
French literature, which gave birth to the Arthurian poems and the romance
of Tristan. French by origin, as Marie states in her verses, she seems to
have passed all her life far from her native country, in the kingdom of
England, at the court of the Plantagenets, that of Henry II, the
sophisticated patron of literature, and his queen Eleanor de Poitou. At
that time the new aristocratic society was being formed in France, with a
more refined taste, evidently satiated with the eternal songs about
Charlemagne and Guillaume d'Orange, and looking for a new literary
orientation, seeking new plots to express the new aspirations and ideas.
The lays of Marie de France answered this necessity. That is what explains
the unparalleled success of these tales, or, as they were called since,
"Breton lays".
Twelve surviving lays are ascribed to Marie de France with a high degree
of certainty. In addition to them there exist at least eight more
anonymous breton lays (e.g."Melion", "Graelent", "Desiré" etc.) which
conspicuously copy the plots of Marie, let alone a few "false lays" which
bear this fashionable name but which are in fact but common fablios (dated
by the end of the twelfth century). If there happen to exist any other
examples of that genre, I have never come across any reference to them.
And now, after approximately eight centuries of oblivion, there springs
into being a new and unexpected example of the genre, which can be
rightfully added to this list - the "lay of leithian'.
Before coming over to point-by-point comparison, I had better add a few
words about the sources of breton lays. Marie's special interest was the
matter of Britain, Celtic or "Breton' stories. But her stories are far
from being all of only Breton or celtic origin. Among Marie's poems one
can distinguish some that evidently do not have anything to do with the
Welsh tradition. She says herself that the adventure of the "Lai des deux
amants" takes place in Pitres in Normandy. That is indeed a Norman legend,
strictly localised at the C“te des deux amants near Pont de l'Arche on
the Seine. The plots of "Lai d'Equitan" and "Lai de Milon" (the battle
between a farther and a son not knowing each other) belong to the "migrant
themes" and are fairly common in the world literature. french and Latin
sources are also easily detectable. For instance, "Sir Orfeo" immediately
brings to mind Ovid's "Metamorphoses" and the "Story of Orpheus and
Eurydice"(even the name are suggestive). The "lay of ChiŠvrefueil" is
but Marie's remaking of an episode of the French romance (though the
Tristan romances are of Celtic origin, of course). We cannot say for sure
whether Marie knew Welsh at all or whether she reset the stories of Celtic
folklore using the written French sources. That is true that Marie used
some Breton words, like "bisclavret" ("bleiz lavaret" (bret) - a speaking
wolf) for a werewolf and "laostic' for a nightingale, but she most likely
found these words already present in the titles of the lays. Whatever
be her other sources, there is a small group of lays, probably of the
most beautiful ones endowed with certain very peculiar qualities, which
french literature had never known before (there are no traces of magic
whatsoever in the French epics of "Roland"or "Chansons de geste"). These
are characterised by the presence of fantastic and magical elements: fays,
male and female ("Yonec", "Lanval"); shape-changers, men that change into
birds or werewolves, women of marvelous beauty endowed with supernatural
powers; animals that speak with human voices; inanimate objects that
become alive. Strange, irresistible forces carry men away into a
mysterious world, the entrance to which is jealously guarded against
common mortals and whence none had ever returned. These elements are
purely Celtic: Breton and Welsh; the same motives reappear in the
Arthurian romances and actually all of them are present in the "Lays of
Beleriand", even if treated somewhat differently and given a new
interpretation. Since further on in my comparisons I shall deal mostly
with this particular group of lays, it seems to be right to lay a special
stress on the dominance of the matter of Britain in both works inquestion.
The first point that i would like to make a few remarks on, is the problem
of verisimilitude. Whatever be the contents of epics and folklore texts,
the most alluring quality of theirs is that the events depicted in them
are presented as objective reality. The spell cast by myths and stories of
marvel leads to a strong, more or less permanent state of the secondary
belief. Marie states many a time that Breton lays are meant to commemorate
some remarkable adventure - a true adventure that she has heard of:
Ne dutai pas, bien le saveie,
Ke pur remambrance les firent
Des aventures k'il oirent
Cil ki primes les comencierent.(The Prologue)
(I have no doubt that those Who were the first to compose these lays Created
them to keep rememrance Of the adventures that they had heard of.)
Marie repeats more than once that she wants to retell "an adventure", that
is to say, a story, a singular event that she treats as a real one:
Les contes que je sai verais...("Guigemar" 19)
The author means to say that she did not invent these stories herself;
they are true because they are authenticized by the tradition. The same
way of presentation, the striving for verisimilitude is found in anonymous
lays:
Of adventures that did once befall
Some I can tell you, but not all. ("Sir Orfeo" 21-22)
Harpers in Britain in after time
these marvels heard, and in their rhyme
a lay they made of fair delight...(ibid. 597-9)
this treatment of legendary motives as true, if distant events is very
close to Tolkien's conception of the so-called Faerian or Elvish drama,
the possibility of entering bodily into the Secondary World, once it is
constructed convincingly enough. His own work is in perfect concordance
with this conception: it rings absolutely true both to those within the
Secondary World (it would be enough to remember an episode from the "Lord
of the Rings", Aragorn telling Frodo and the rest the story of Beren and
Lúthien) as an ancient Eldarin epic, and to the readers of the book
entitled the "Lays of Beleriand", Unwin Paperbacks. This feeling of
authenticity is achieved through the lay being part of an integral system
which is accepted as objected reality itself, and through the author's
invariable gravity of tone which does not admit of any condescending
make-belief. "To create the secondary belief in the reader...there must be
no break in the mood, no laughing at the magic...This seriousness about
the work must be in the writer before it can be in the reader, and that is
one reason why Tolkien speaks of his stories as if they were discovered
rather than invented..." breton lays are authenticized by their antiquity
and the age-long tradition; the "Lays of Beleriand", a myth in its purest
in most perfect form, is true because the author willed so.
The classification of lays has always embarrassed the critics because of
the diversity of the plots and vagueness of the points of comparisons.At
the beginning of "Sir Orfeo" lays are classified according to the thematic
principle:
Some are of weal and some of woe,
and some do joy and gladness know;
in some are guile and treachery told,
in some the deeds that chanced of old,
some are of jests and ribaldry,
and some are tales of Faery.
Of all the things that men may heed,
'tis most of love they sing indeed. ("Sir Orfeo" 5-12)
In case of Marie we can say that her twelve lays embrace all the
traditional situations of a love-story: children, separated from their
parents, tragic love, a guilty woman, a jealous husband, etc. The same is
true about anonymous lays, which do not go beyond the limits set by Marie;
indeed, the difference lies in their treatment of the subject rather than
the subject itself. One can roughly subdivide lays into realistic and
supernatural, the latter including "Bisclavret", "Guigemar", "Lanval" and
"Yonec"(Marie de France), "Tydorel", "Sir Orfeo", "Graelent" etc
(anonymous lays). later on I shall refer mostly to these, since Tolkien's
Lay certainly pertains to this particular group. Magical or Faery motives
are really strong in both, pervading the plot and subduing the characters;
many an element of a fairy-story can be found in the Lay of Leithian, only
what is treated as a folklore tradition and an embellishment in Breton
lays, acquires a global status of mythopoeia in the "Lay of Leithian".
As for the size, the original breton lays vary from a hundred to a
thousand lines. For instance, the shortest one, "ChiŠfrefueil" numbers
118 lines, while "Eliduc' is as long as 1184. These limits seem to be a
proper frame for a short, independent love-story episode, the complexity
of the peripetias and the abundance of details dictating the required
number of lines. But the "Lay of Leithian" goes beyond this limit
considerably - it was written up to 4223 lines, but the work being
unfinished, nobody knows what its volume might have been, had the author
completed it. The matter is, that the "Lay of Leithian" is not merely a
love-story (being that as well) or a tale of an adventure, of a heroic
quest; the narration is not limited to a separate episode, but embraces a
complicated chain of events, flashbacks and references to other legends,
and consequently demands a more voluminous poetic form. Breton lays are
self-centered, but there is a profound picture of the world behind the
"Lay of Leithian", the mythopoeic creation - hence the difference in
size.There are no inner division within the compositive structure of
breton lays; the pieces of the whole collection of twelve are not
interrelated; each has a plot of its own. The "lay of Leithian" is a
sequence of 14 Cantos, each canto marking a new stage in the development
of the events. The basic narrative unit is the verse paragraph (cf.
"laisse" in the "Song of Roland"); each successive paragraph moving the
action slightly forward. Yet each is a detached unit making a new start.
This composition which strongly reminds of the Chansons de Geste, suggests
a blending of the two genres: that of the lay and that of the gest, which
is indeed reflected in the full title of the Lay:"The GEST of BEREN son of
BARAHIR and LUTIEN the FAY called TINUVIEL the NIGHTINGALE or the
LAY OF LEITHIAN, Release from Bondage". Both terms employes together
presuppose an intricate combination of the elements typical for these two
distinct genres.
The first thing to attract a reader's attention is, probably, the title of
a particular work of art. In Marie's lays, as well as in anonymous ones it
is almost always a proper name of the protagonist ("Frˆne", "Yonec",
"Lanval", "Sir Orfeo") or an appellation that bears a clear reference to
the nameless characters ("Deux Amants"). In a few cases it might be a
denomination charged with the poetic and symbolic value ("Laostic",
"ChiŠvrefeuille"), which is, nevertheless, easily interpreted from the
contents (see below). The title of the "Lay of Leithian" is not that
transparent at all, being loaded with the symbolic meaning which admits of
different readings. The word "Leithian", first of all, is given in the
Eldarin language, i.e. in the language spoken by the characters of the
Lay. Marie recurs to the same device, as a matter of fact, using Breton
words for her titles to prove the authenticity of the lays; hence the
werewolf becomes "bisclavret" and the nightingale "laostic". The "Lay of
Leithian" title is straightaway translated into English as "Release from
Bondage". Indeed, in the "Etymologies" ("Lost Road" p.368) we find
"lheitho" - to release, set free; and "lheithian"- release, freeing. So
the meaning is more or less clear, but we are left to choose among various
applications that ca be seen in the poem. Is it the burden of the oath
rashly given by beren to King Thingol that the title refers to - and his
being finally set free of the oath by achieving his quest? Actually Beren
is not the only person in the Lay to bear the consequence of pledging his
word; many a person besides him is bound by some dreadful pledge to be set
free in the long run - be it by means of death, as in case with Finrod. Or
is it the magical jewel, the Silmaril, that is finally released from the
darkness of Angband and the bonds of the iron crown? Or should we look for
a deeper philosophic interpretation: the Elves are bound forever to this
world "never to leave it so long as it lasts, for its life is
theirs" ("Silmarillion" p.326), but Men are endowed with the gift to
escape and leave the world, "for they are not bound to it in hope or in
weariness" (ibid.). Lúthien , being of the immortal race of the
Firstborn, becomes sundered from her people and chooses to share the fate
of men, thus being released from the bondage of immortality, the burden of
which becomes unbearable for those who possess it. The many-dimensional
contextual structure of the Lay, the ambiguity of meaning leaving room for
various interpretations can certainly be ascribed to the undeniable merits
of this poetical work, as well as other works of the author in question.
The toponymy and onomastics of the twelve lays of Marie confirm the
assertions concerning the matter of Britain being the source of Breton
lays. The geography takes us to Great Britain or the Armorican Brittany.
The lays make mention of the country of Líon ("Guigemar", 30),
saint-Malo ("Laostic"), Exeter ("Eliduc" 91), Cornwall ("Lanval" 435),
Wales ("Milon"183). The toponymy takes us invincibly to the Celtic domain:
Vers Exestré, en cel pa‹s
manoit uns hom molt poéstie...("Eliduc" 91-92).
A cardeil sejornait li roi
Artur, li preuz et li cortoispor
les escoz et por les Pis
Qui destruioient le pais,
En la terre de Logre entroient
Et molt sovent la damajoient -
A la Pentecoste en este,
I avoit li rois sejorné. ("Lanval")
(In Cardeil established his court Arthur, the valiant and courteous king,
For the Scots and Picts Ravaged the country,Invading the land of Loengre
And most often doing damage to it. So in Pentec“te in summer Abode the king.).
Sir Orfeo was a king of old,
in England lordship high did hold...("Sir Orfeo" 25-26)
the vast usage of toponyms is a device not to be found in the folklore
tradition, where the pkace of action in most cases remains obscure, being
substituted by a cliché "once upon a time in a distant country". In
breton lays the toponyms indicate the source of the legend on the one
hand, and on the other hand help to intensify the impression of
authenticity. Some of the toponyms are even charged with a certain
historic significance, as in the extract about King Arthur, cited above.
Still this significance is more than vague. The names mentioned are more
an embellishment than a true geographic reference; the meaning of all
those lands of Wales and Saint-Malo is somewhat close to "a distant
country of old".
The same is true about anthroponymy. in some cases the characters still
remain anonymous ("Deux Amants"), which is typical for the folklore
tradition. But many a person bears a name of his own, and a great deal of
these names are purely Celtic, and some are charged with a vague
historical significance. "Graelent", for instance, is a distorted name of
a legendary king of Brittany (Gradlon or Grazlon). The names like "Yonec",
"Muldumarec", "Guildeluec" are Breton. The vegetable names like
"Frˆne" and "Coudre" certainly root in the folklore tradition, but
their symbolic meaning, if there be any, is hard to perceive. There would
be no reason whatsoever to call the heroine "Frˆne', but for the fact
that she was found under an ash-tree ("frˆne" in French); there is
still less reason to call her twin-sister "Coudre" (a hazel-tree), if not
for the sake of making a hint to their kinship, which for a time is
concealed from both. If I am not mistaken, none of the names mentioned in
Breton lays are tokrn-names. Sometimes they seem to be chosen just for
being exotic, and therefore hardly fit the context, as in case with Sir
Orfeo (bearing distinct traits of the legendary Orfeus), whose "father of
king Pluto came, his mother- of Juno", and who, nevertheless, reigns in
England with Heurodic (Eurydice) his wife. That leads us to the conclusion
that the proper names employed in Breton lays (this being a significant
move forward from the anonymity of the folklore tradition) are mostly
meaningless, bear no implication whatsoever and are as much an
embellishment as the toponyms.
It is far from being so with the "Lay of Leithian". This work roots in the
secondary world created by Tolkien with great precision as part of the
creative activity of the Eldar, and as such is bound to have the toponymy
and anthroponymy of its own. The place-names and proper-names employed in
it with far greater exactness than in breton lays, take us immediately to
the realm of Beleriand, as those used by Marie convey us to the Celtic
domain. They are not just fanciful coinages, they are 1) meaningful words
originating from the languages of beleriand, put down by Tolkien (Tolkien
himself said once that his "stories were made rather to provide a world
for the language than the reverse", to give a frame to the "invented"
speech. Thus the names should be regarded as part of a complicated,
professionally devised linguistic system (and require a linguistic
approach if the work is translated into another language; see Chapter 2)
2) they are not taken at random to embellish the narration, but there is
always a strict correspondence between the notion and the name. In the
"lay of Eliduc", for instance, the action is referred to exeter - but
there are no details indicating this particular region, there is nothing
whatsoever, that binds the action to this particular place; it could have
been Nantes or Cornwall just as well. In the "Lay of Beleriand" the place
of action is of vital importance: if this or that episode is bound to,
let us say, Menegroth, it should be none other than Menegroth; neither
Nargothrond nor Gondolin would do. 3) The geography and anthroponymy of
the "lay of Leithian" are not self-centered, they are part of a system and
therefore correlate with other Tolkien's works, with the "Silmarillion"
first and foremost, the story of Beren and Lúthien being one of its
central episodes, set in verse in the lay. Since the mythopoeic process
included several stages, and the conception given in the "Silmarillion"
underwent considerable changes, so did the toponymy of the Lay as we can
perceive from the most informative and exhaustive commentaries of
Christopher Tolkien to each canto; so we should take into concideration
the traces of many a concept blended in this particular work.
The onomastics of the Lay can be roughly subdivided into "place-names",
"names of persons and peoples" and "things" (after the three sections of
the "Guide to the Names"). Now what are the main place-names of this
particular work? The very first Canto provides us with a brief
geographical review, where the main regions to be mentioned in the course
of the narration are outlined:
They dwelt amid Beleriand,
while Elfin power yet held the land,
in the woven woods of Doriath...
To North there lay the Land of Dread'
Whence only evil pathways led
o'er hills of shadow bleak and cold
or Taur-na-Fuin's hauntedhold...
to South the wide earth unexplored;
to West the ancient Ocean roared...
to East in peaks of blue were piled
the mountains of the Outer World...
beyond the tangled woodland shade...(41-61)
Bearing in mind the information given here, the whole map can easily be
reconstructed: the dreadful Taur-na-Fuin and Anfauglith with Thangorodrim
in the North, the Great Sea of belegaer in the West, the Blue Mountains
(Ered Luin) further to the East, and in-between the forest of Nan Elmoth.
The geographical position of Doriath is given with great precision - there
are not too many names in the first Canto, but by mere descriptions we can
restore a missing toponym. And these are not just abstract names - at the
end of the first Canto we already know what to expect of them. The North
is of course the citadel of Evil, the source of discord and disharmony
which are to trouble the happy equilibrium of Beleriand. The
well-protected Doriath is, on the contrary, the incarnation of beauty and
tranquility - and of magical powers to contest the former. Further on
there will emerge other geographical entities: the beleagered Dorthonion
(not actually named as such, but, again, easily recognisable), the Elfin
realm of Nargothrond, the horrible Wisard's Isle. There are rivers and
arbitraries, mountain-chains and forests, and all of them are to be
treated as objective reality. On the other hand, there are place-names
that are somewhat apart from the real world: in Marie's lays it is the
island of Avallon (sic!). In the Lay the Other World is incarnated in the
notion of Valinor, the deathless land of the Gods (Valar). All the
place-names of the Lay are meaningful words, that is, all of them comprise
a description of the notion they stand for: "Doriath" - the Land of Fence
(Dor Iƒth), that is, protected by the Girdle of Melian; "Taur-na-Fuin"
- the Forest of Gloom (Noldorin); Angband - the Iron Prison (ang+band,
Sindarin); "Nargothrond"- River Under Veil (esgal "screen" + duin "river",
Ilkorin). As we can see, all the languages of Beleriand are represented in
the place-names and can easily be distinguished judging by the phonetic
structure of the word. Some of the names are translated in the text, for
instance, the first Canto has "Thousand caves" for Menegroth; the meaning
of the others is impossible to deduce using the Lay only - one has to
refer to other sources(the most exhaustive one being the "Etymologies" in
the "Lost Road"); but all of them are part of that system which we have
defined as the Eldarin world.
A question might therefore arise, if these geographical entities correlate
in any way with those of the "real world"? Are there any parallels between
Beleriand and any part of theearth that we know? Only two hints can be
drawn from the commentaries. The name "Broceliand" appears in manuscript A
among other possible names for the land jotted down - to be replaced by
"Beleriand" in the original version. Christopher believes that comes from
the famous Forest of broceliande in Brittany of the Arthurian legends -
that does seem to bridge the gap between the Eldarin and Celtic epics. and
one more reference, no less vague, might be observed. In the "History of
Eriol" of Aelfwine ("Lost Tales" 2, p.312) there are the following words:
"There was a land called England and it was an island of the West...All
that land the Elves name Lúthien and and do so yet." In Aelfwine 2
the name "leithian" is pencilled above, and England is still "Leithien" in
the 1930 version of the "Silmarillion". we cannot say whether there is any
connection at all between Leithian=England and "Release of Bondage" - can
it be that one of the possible interpretations of the title would be the
"Lay of England" and Beleriand becomes part of the european continent?
What has been said about the toponymy, is perfectly true about personal
names employed in the narrative.these are again meaningful words derived
from the Eldarin languages. These are speaking names giving away certain
information about their bearers. The following examples will certainly
suffice: "Lúthien" (Noldorin "lh–th" - spell, "lhútha" - to
enchant), hence "Enchantress"; "Thingol" - the Sindarized form of Quenya
"sinde"- grey + "collo" - cloak, hence "Grey Cloak"; "Beren" - from Exilic
Noldorin "beren" - bold, "bertho" - dare; "Finrod' - ON "phinde" - skill +
"rauto" - metal, hence "Skilled in Metalwork"; the same root is is present
in "Fingolfin" (+ ngolfine - magic skill); "Felagund" - the Dwarfish name
of Finrod ("felak-gundu" - cave-hewer). The same is true about animalistic
names: "Húan"- from Quenya "huan, húnen" - hound; Carcharoth -
from "carch" - tooth, fang. Some names are real puns to be solved: the
name of Thuringwethil, the hideous bat, translated as "she of hidden
shadow", when used by Lúthien , might hint at her "cloak of shadow".
There are names which are really hard to interpret. The disputable
etymology of the name of Melkor, as a matter of fact, seems to be so
discussion-provoking, that I shall allow myself a short digression. There
have been attempts to interpret the name in question in many a
controversial way, for the conventional etymology does seem to be rather
vague.My estimated opponent (N.V.) offered the following approach: MEL (love)
+ KÒR (globe); which on the whole makes "The One Who Loves the World",
claiming that professor Tolkien's translation "He who arises in Might" is
altogether biased and wrong. Let alone that this statement strongly
contradicts the contents, I would permit myself to disagree with it on purely
linguistic grounds. The stem MEL, it seems to me, bears a passive meaning
rather than active, denoting an object of love rather than the agent of it,
Other words containing the same stem appear toprove that. MELIAN definitely
means "Beloved by everybody", "enjoying universal love" rather than "She who
loves everybody" (irrespective of anything); the word "melda" stands for
"beloved", not "lover". To convey the meaning of disinterested love generated
by the person in question a special suffix is used, as it is surely known to
my worthy opponent, the one being NDIL/NIL, as in Eärnil, Valandil etc.
Hence the name in question ought to be interpreted not as "He who loves the
world", but as "He who is beloved by the world"(which is hardly the case). As
for the element KÒR, which my worthy opponent correlates with the "world"
since it stands for "round, globed", the researcher has as many reasons to
correlate it with the material universe, as with, let us say, an apple or a
Palantir, both possessing the same spherical form. I would offer an altogether
different etymology, which seems to make sense: MIL(IK) (from Quenya "milme" -
desire, greed; "maile" - lust) + ORO (up, rise, high, cf. Anaróre -
sunrise); hence MELKOR (*Mailik¸) - "The One Who Arises in Lust", which
perfectly suits the character in question. The interpretation given by
Professor Tolkien himself comes very close to this, if we admit that the
English word "lust" seems to correlate with the word "strength" (might). The
original meaning is still preserved in word-combinations like "a lusty
blow"(=a mighty blow). I do admit that this name might lead to different
interpretations; but the stems seem to prompt this one, moreover it seems to
suit the context.
In addition to the names proper, there are a few cases of nicknames as well,
which is typical for the Eldarin tradition. It was customary for a person to
have a name or two names given by parents ("essi"), and to acquire an
"after-name" ("epessë), not "necessarily given by his own kin, a nickname,
mostly given as a title of admiration and honour; and an epessë might
become the name generally recognised in later song and history" ("Unfinished
Tales" p.266). These nicknames remind us most strongly of the Irish sagas.
Lúthien was first called "Tinúviel" by Beren, that is "Nightingale",
"for he knew no other name for her" ("Silmarillion"p.199.); and this
aftername has been used since alongside with her proper name; it is even
mentioned in the title. Finrod, the ruler of nargothrond, goes by his Dwarfish
nickname, "Felagund", "the hewer of caves", mostly in the text of the Lay.
Sometimes it does not really matter by what name the person goes, sometimes
the choice of name is really significant. The people of nargothrond may use
both names with equal frequency, but the Orcs, mentioning Finrod, are likely
to use the name in the Dwarfish language, rather than pronounce anything in
Sindarin.
While the concept of the secondary world described in the Lay was being
created, the anthroponyms underwent considerable changes, acquiring a new
meaning with the story itself. In Manuscript A, for instance, the role of
Beren is played by Maglor, son of Egnor (later it became the name of the third
son of Fëanor); and in the "Lay of the Children of Húrin" the son of
Egnor was an Elf;
...who once of old
fellowship had vowed and friendly love
Elf with mortal, even Egnor's son
with Húrin of Hithlum...
probably originally the Lay was devised as a mere love-story of the two Elves,
later on being filled with the new, much more profound significance as it
centered in the symbolic union of the two distinct races, personified in a
mortal and an Elfin maiden, in the merging of the two themes of the "two
Kindreds which were made by Ilúvatar to dwell in Arda" ("Silmarillion"
p.227.), which reaches its climax in Lúthien's song before Mandos. in the
final versions Beren/Maglor and Barahir/egnor are explicitly Men (Barahir
"once the Prince of Men was born") and, consequently, in Canto 3 the name
"Maglor" is duly given to the second greatest singer of Elfiness. As for
Lúthien , in the drafts for Canto 1 she was called Melilot, and her
description differs greatly from the traditional version: the daughter of
Thingol is represented blue-eyed and golden-haired. Actually, all these
confusing name-shifts and concept-shifts affect Canto 1 most drastically the
one which, being an introductory part, is pretty abstract. It has been
observed by many a person, that Canto 1 resembles very much a traditional
folklore fairy-tale or ballad beginning: the information that it contains can
be brought to the following: there lived a mighty king and he had an
extraordinaryly beautiful daughter, whom he valued above all his treasures;
and then there follow the detailed descriptions of what he had, where he lived
and what this of that of his possessions looked like. That part bears very few
individual traits so far which could classify it as an "Eldarin epic", the
conventional beginning could have fit any folklore tale. To my point of view
all that suggests that the lay was started as an independant work, an attempt
at a poetic imitation, bearing no reference to the "Silmarillion" at all. But
in the course of its development it was very soon filled with the new meaning
and became part of the mythological system of Arda and merged with the central
story of the "Silmarillion".
Like in Breton lays, the proper names in the "Lay of Leithian" are to such an
extent meaningful narration units, that they admit of certain linguistic
playing with them. They can be devised as puns to mislead the interlocutor, as
in case with Lúthien using the name of Thuringwethil; they may undergo
deliberate transformations much to the same purpose:
Nereb and Dungalef and warriors ten -
So we are called...
say Felagund and Beren, disguised as Orcs ("No doubt Thû' s ponderings on
the matter were too subtle", - Christopher Tolkien comments on this quite
transparent device.) Nothing like that could be possible in Marie's lays since
names have very little weight in the development of the plot there.
In the "Lay of leithian" names are not the prerogative of living beings only.
Personification of inanimate objects, very typical for epics in general and
those with strong Faery tendencies in particular, endows certain objects of
exceeding significance with names of their own. Now we do not come across this
phenomenon in Breton lays, though personification is not totally excluded from
them. As for the "Lay of Leithian", proper names are given to trees: we have
"Hirilorn, the beechen queen", a huge beech, which became a prison for
Lúthien ; actually, it acquires the gender together with the name, for it
is constantly referred to as "she". In Canto 7 the Trees of Valinor are
mentioned:
...where glingal once had bloomed with gold
and Belthil bore its silver flowers...
which are also known as Telperion and Laurelin in the "Silmarillion" version.
Yhey are certainly more than just plants, they acquire a status of magical,
lightsome beings of a totally different race, thus in connection with them the
verb "to slay", not "to hew" is used. Another typical example will be grond,
"the hammer of the underworld", the terrible weapon of morgoth in his battle
with Fingolfin. It is not at all unusual for epic characters to name their
weaponry (cf. "The Song of Roland", but there is no such instance in breton
lays. Some object-names of the "Lay of leithian" have not been interpreted
yet, and it seems hardly possible to find a link between a name and the events
of the past; for no evident reason the constellation traditionally called the
Sicle of the Gods (Valacirca) bears the name of Burning Briar in this text,
which is hard to account for (line 377). Just like in real life: some names
seem to be oddly transparent, some leave room for further speculations.
Breton lays are characterized by the simplicity of structure and scarcity of
characters. The "episodical' nature of lays does not allow any digression from
the plot. The action develops really quickly - hence the comparatively small
volume of each lay. They do not tell us in any case about the characters'
youth or their ancestry. The action commences at a certain starting-point,
moves on smoothly through climax up to the denoument, and breaks off at that
point. Whatever happened outside the boundaries of that period, remains
unknown. There is nothing to break the chronological succession of the events,
the narration is linear, so to speak. Flashbacks are exceptional, if they do
occur, it is only to remind of the past that we know and the character does
not (Frˆne, lines 296-302). The shorter lays are nothing more than an
episode. The ampler ones seem to present a binary structure. E.g. Bisclavret
tells his secret to his wife - she commits a betrayal (the first part), then
the retribution follows (the second part). Her lover's death is a great
tragedy for the woman in "Yonec"; the second part brings consolation and
retribution again.
The abundancy of characters involved in the events, including
numerous supporting roles; lengthy historical digressions and cases of
retrospection in the "Lay of Leithian" build up a many-dimensional narration
based upon a complicated compositional frameworks; in this respect the Lay is
much closer to ancient epics than to the graceful and somewhat shallow Breton
lays. The author often recurs to flashbacks which reproduce vivid pictures of
the past and serve as a link between the legend of Beren and Lúthien and
Beleriandic history on the whole. Many a Canto starts witha digression into
the depths of history, meanwhile the events of the past ages have something in
common with the events of this or that particular Canto; certain parallels are
brought to light, certain recurrence of things to happen; history seems to
repeat itself, only each time at a new level; and the flashbacks become a link
between the past and the developments of different ages echo each other. Canto
3, devoted to the first encounter of Beren and Lúthien starts with a
flashback which goes back as far as the First Age: the westward journey of the
Elves, Elwë (Thingol) being enchanted in the forest of Nan Elmoth by
Melian the Maia who had left "the gardens of Gods', and their founding the
kingdom of Doriath in the Middle-earth. In this Canto this is but an
anticipation of one of the central events of the story; the similar meeting of
Lúthien, their child, "half elven-fair and half-divine" with a mortal man.
Actually, here the principle of thrice repeated action can be observed: many
years will pass before the story repeats itself once again, with the new
characters: Arwen, the descendant of Beren and Lúthien and Aragorn,
isildur's heir. Canto 6, which dwells on beren's coming to Nargothrond to seek
aid in his quest starts with a recital of the events of long ago: the Two
Trees of Valinor being slain by Morgoth, the Silmarils being stolen and
Fëanor and his sons swearing their binding oath. Then follows the account
of the Battle of the Sudden Flame, in which Barahir came to Finrod's aid and
the latter swore "an oath of friendship to his kin and seed, of love and
succour in time of need'; without which it is impossible to understand the
further course of events. The central episode of this particular part is the
Oath, no doubt - sworn long ago, it is repeated almost in the same words in
the texture of the narration by Celegorm and Curufin; again the present echoes
the past. Canto 11 (the disguising of Beren and Lúthien and their journey
to Angband) opens with a flashback of the Battle of the Sudden Flame,
mentioned earlier in the text; when the green and grassy plain was scorched
and devastated (Dor-na-Fauglith) - this dreary landscape spreads before Beren
as he approaches Thangorodrim. Canto 12 starts with the account of the battle
between Fingolfin and Morgoth:
Yet Orcs would after laughing tell
Of the duel at the gates of hell...
Again, this episode of the remote past anticipates the future: in the next
Canto the horrible owner of Thangorodrim is challenged again - but this time
to be defeated, by two adversaries, who are certainly inferior to him in
strength, as was Fingolfin, - an Elfin maid and a mortal man. The flashbacks
seem to flow smoothly one into the other, thus the narration moves forvard at
two different levels, and the whole history of the Elder Days is interwoven
into the episode of Beren and Lúthien . The falshbacks of that sort break
the narrative; others are entwined with the thoughts and words of the
characters themselves. The contest of the songs of Power fought by Finrod and
Thû/Sauron recalls the events of long ago almost in the visual form; the
visions of beauty and blissbreak against gloomy pictures of evil and violence;
Softly in the gloom they heard the birds
singing afar in Nargothrond,
the sighing of the sea beyond,
beyond the western world, on sand,
on sand of pearls in Elvenland.
Then the gloom gathered: darkness growing
in Valinor, the red blood flowing
besides the sea, where Gnomes slew
the Foamriders, and stealing drew
their white ships with their white sails
from lamplit heavens...(p.231).
Flashbacks and flashforwards occur in Lúthien's magic song of growth; she
foresees the events which are still to come:
All the names of things
tallest and longest on earth she sings...
the chain Angainor that ere Doom
for Morgoth shall by Gods be wrought
of steel and torment...(p.205)
In addition to flashbacks the narration abounds in allusions and
referenceswhich are impossible to decipher from the text of theLay and appeal
to our background knowledge. Many a mythological figure is mentioned here and
there: Uinen, the Lady of the Sea (line 1499), Oromë /Tavros (2242),
Manwë and Varda (cf. Valaquenta); the "sylphine maidens of the Air (4077,
cf. "Lost Tales 1". When Dairon the singer is introduced for the first time,
his skill in music is compared to that of the other superior performers in a
digressive passage:
Such players have there only been
thrice in all Elfiness, I ween:
Tinfang Gelion, who still the moon
enchants on summer nights of June...
Maglor whose voice is like the sea...(p.174)
While the reference to Maglor requires certain background knowledge based on
the "Silmarillion", Tinfang Gelion is not that easy to place. All these
digressions, allusions, vague hints and references add to the feeling of
immence profundity of this particular story as part of an immesurably greater,
harmonious, many-dimensional whole. Actually, here and there there are slight
discrepances between "historical flashbacks" and the traditional history as it
is. For instance, in Canto 3 the Elves went across the sea to Valinor at the
end of the Great journey in a fleet of ships, which disagrees with the version
of an island-ship. But these discrepancies do not mar the impression of
everything being exceptionally real; the mere existence of slightly different
versions more or less distorted or incomplete produces the impression of
history merging with myth - or myth merging with history.
Unlike Breton lays the "Lay of Leithian" is strongly retrospective, which is
not in perfect harmony with the law of the genre. The course of narration
might be brokenby the character's reflecting upon what happened much earlier.
A most typical example of this retrospective flashback is found in lines
563-92, when, on seeing Lúthien, Beren immediately forgets everything he
had to go through during his journey to Doriath. A detailed enumeration of
what he forgets, as long as 34 lines, follows. On this lewis commentsin the
following way:"The artificial insertion of Beren's journey in its present
place - where it appears as retrospect not as direct narrative, though
defensible, belongs to a kind of art more sophisticated than that of the
Geste: it is just such a transposition as a late Broceliandic literary
redactorwould make under the influence of the classical epic" ("Lays of
Beleriand" p.322.).
Quick changes of perspective give certain profundity to the recitation in the
ampler Breton lays (in "Eliduc' e.g. the stress is shifted from one character
to the other more than once: here the principal part is played by Eliduc, here
by guilliadon, there by Guildeluec). In the "Lay of Leithian' these shifts are
still clearer. First there are two separate lines; the forst one roots in
Doriath (Lúthien), the other one in Dorthonion (Beren), which merge into
one in Canto 3. Further on they break off again and join each other more than
once, they branch and diverge, other lines are woven into the narrative
texture; the "Elvish" lines of kings and rulers frame the only "human" line of
Beren - to be interwoven finally into one theme in Lúthien's song before
Mandos, but, unfortunately, the narrative breaks off long before that.
The problems dealt with in Breton lays are mostly those embodied in the "code
of courteous love', though the interpretation varies, and so does the framing.
The notion of love in Marie's interpretation tends to be more humane in
comparison with that of the courteous romance. The image of a "belle dame sans
merci" who is to be worshipped at a proper distance is replaced by a totally
different ideal - a woman tender, loving and lovable, true to the choice of
her heart. Hence the traditional code of love undergoes certain changes, and
each separate lay is to prove and illustrate some simple truth ar assertion on
which the relationship between a knight and his lady ought to be based. True
love must not break the vow of secrecy (cf. "When made public, love rarely
endures" The Rules of Courtly Love, 12 century), as in "Lanval". Jealousy
destroys love, therefore love should remain a secret ("Yonec", "Deux Amants").
An infidel wife, who has no apparent reasons for infidelity, deserve severe
punishment ("Bisclavret"), but the one whose infidelity is well-grounded, is
totally acquitted and approved of ("Yonec"). Cf. "Marriage is no real excuse
for not loving" ("The Rules of Courtly Love"). The framing whithin which these
postulates are proves are not too intricate: a young woman, unhappily married,
two lovers; undergoing a separation, a jealous husband etc. In spite of the
diversity of the situations the notion of adventure is fundamental, though in
Breton lays the motive of any quest is always love:
Of all the thingsthat men may heed
'tis most of love they sing indeed. ("Sir Orfeo").
Unlike the epic quests, where many a theme is interwoven: a quest as service
to God, a means of self-assertion and attaining spiritual perfection, a means
of preserving and proving certain universal values; a quest for the woman is
somewhere in the background if any. There is also a great difference between a
quest in the Arthurian novels and Breton lays. In the former an adventure is
something external, it exists irrespective of the character, waiting for
anyone brave enough to undertake it. If there is a knight to fight, it does
not matter who his future antagonist will be - anyone who happens to pass by
will do. Neither does it matter for the protagonist whom to confront- it is an
adventure for the adventure's sake. In Marie's lays it is not so - a quest is
not self-sufficient, it is always a means to achieve some other goal. The
adventure invades the protagonist's life as something meant only for him,
"confronts him as a warning, as a portent, as his doom" (C.Conigliani, after
"Essays on history of the West-european literature" A.A.Smirnov.). But,again,
the quest is strictly limited within the domain of love. The declaration of
one's love, the conquest of the fair lady's heart, an assigned task hard to
perform - these are the elements typical for the quest in Breton lays. Tyolet
has to bring a white hoof of a deer guarded by seven lions in order to gain
the girl he loves and the realm as well ("Tyolet"). A youth has to carry the
girl in his arms up to the summit of a steep hill without rest in order to be
able to marry her ("Deux Amants"). These quest bear no inner significance
whatsoever, they are just a self-sufficient task hard to perform, none of them
being essential for the fates of the world. They exist only as long as the two
lovers could overcome the difficulties and be joined at last, so that they
could prove themselves worthy of each other. In the "Lay of Leithian', though
the motive of love being gained at a high cost is one of the leading ones, the
old form is filled with a new meaning. the quest is no longer external and
incidental, as in Malory's writings; it is again "a warning, a portent and the
doom", but it is not the story of the twolovers that the legend centers upon.
Through their love the protagonists become "bearers of Fate", theydonot choose
their quest, but, on the contrary, the quest chooses them, as it has been
written down and foretold. Beren, a mortal man, was chosen to achieve the
quest of the Silmaril long before the father of his father came into the
world:"One of Men, even of Bëor's house, shall indeed come, and the Girdle
of Melian shall not restrain him, for doom...shall send him; and the songs
that shall spring from that coming shall endure when all Middle-earth is
changed" ("Silmarillion" p.172.). It is not that the quest is a means for the
two lovers to be united - the two lovers seem to come into the world and meet
each other with the sole purpose to achieve this quest. The accents are
shifted from the individual to the universal, for within the Silmarils "the
fates of Arda, earth, sea and air lay locked" (ibid.p.73.). The desperate
labours of the two against all the adversities acquire the universal symbolic
meaning of the eternal struggle between Good and Evil. on the cosmological
scale the love-story is important only so far as it corresponds to the purpose
of Fate, as a powerful impetus to compel the protagonists to act as it
is expected of them.
The problems of the 'Lay of Leithian" are far deeper and more abstract than
those of Breton lays of somewhat utilitarian nature; they are intricately
interrelated with the subjects of philosophic disputes of all ages and
nations; to understand the meaning and purpose of Being. The Lay admits of
different reading (so do all the writings of the same author); it can be
enjoyed for the sake of the adventure only, but surely the adventure is not
the principal thing, but the way to prove certain philosophic assertions and
resolve certain dilemmas. Its real theme is surely Death and Immortality, the
same as in the "Lord of the Rings", "the mystery of the love of the world in
the hearts of a race doomed to leave and seemingly lose it; the anguish in the
heart of a race "doomed" not to leave it until the whole evil-aroused story is
complete", according to Tolkien. The conflict of Death and the desire for
deathlessness seems to cast its shade upon all other dilemmas of the Lay:
pre-determination as opposed to free will, the righteousness and guilt in
accepting (or desiring for) a doom set for a different race; the problem of
escape and betrayal in "race-changing", the problem of assuming responsibility
for oneself as well as for the others and the brink that separates
responsibility from conscious domination of others' wills.And, of course, the
problem of interrelation between this world and that of Faery.
The magical and folklore motives permeate the anonymous breton lays and those
of Marie, but the nature of the relationship between the "real" and
"supernatural"beings is simplified to the utmost and again limited to the
domain of love. The motive of a mortal falling in love with a supernatural
being of the other World is fairly frequent in folklore (cf. "Tamline" and
"Thomas the Rymer"). The Other World being can be a woman who appears as a fay
("Guingamor", "Graelent", "Lanval") or a man ("Tydorel", "Sir Orfeo",
"Yonec"). The love between the two must remain a secret; absolute, even
religious silence is required of Lanval, Graelent, Desiré - once the banis
broken, the fay disappears. In "Tydorel" the queen is requested never to ask
questions about the fairy she meets and it is precised that their love will
last until they are seen together. Once a stranger sees them embraced, the
supernatural being disappears, but the one who saw them falls ill and dies the
next day at the same hour that he entered the queen's chamber. These are
mysteries that the mortal has no right to know.
In the "Lay of Leithian" Lúthien and Melian her mother are often called
'fays", but in this context the meaning is somewhat different from that of
Breton lays. Who is to beregarded as a supernatural being in the world of
Beleriand - where Elvish and human realms exist side by side and the
interrelation between them is that of two distinct, but equally real races;
they provide each other with military aid at times of need, they act as allies
against a coomon enemy, study eachother's lore and trade to mutual profit. To
a Beleriandic human an Elvish archer would seem as real a being as, say, a
representative of a neighbouring country for us. 'Tis true, in many ways the
Elves are superior to the humans, but this fact does not make them more
ephemeral or provides sufficient grounds to doubt their very existence.
History knows several intermarriages 9it is strange that, unlike in breton
lays, here we see only a he-mortal and she-Elf couples, never vice versa); but
the interrelationship between the two worlds is not restricted to that; on the
contrary, these are exceptional cases. On the other hand, the "supernatural
world" for the inhabitants of Beleriand, both Elves and Men (and other races)
is embodied in the notion of Valinor, the deathless land of the Valar (called
"Gods' in the Lay, for that is their status among those living in the Hither
Lands). Melian belongs to that supernatural race, and so does her daughter,
half-elven and half-divine, hence the term "fay". For Men Valinor is but a
"rumour and a distant name", for mortals are not admitted there, but the Elves
are; they are in a sort of in-between position, a link between the totally
"real" humans and totally "supernatural' powers. Thus we can say that the
world fo the "Lay of Leithian" is that of three levels, unlike the strictly
binary world of Breton lays.
In Breton lays the Other World is not profoundly described. In "Guingamor" and
"Graelent" it is clear that rivers mark the frontiers of the invisible world.
the realm of wonder lies further on, at the other side of the waters. Probably
that is why the fay of Lanval puts up her tent on the riverside. The
motive of water-boundaries is present in many a legend. In the "Pearl", the
old English poem, the protagonist speaks with his daughter across a stream and
beholds the paradise/new Jerusalem on the opposite bank, but is not allowed
yet to cross the river:
Therefore I thought that Paradise
Across those banks was yonder laid;
I weened that the water by device
As bounds between pleasances was made;
Beyond that stream by steep or slade
That city's walls I weened must soar;
But the water was deep, I dared not wade,
And ever I longed to, more and more.("Pearl" p.84).
the Western seas lie between Valinor and Hither Lands in Professor's
mythological system. The fay in "Lanval" carries her lover to the enchanted
island of Avallon (which echoes most ambiguously the name of a haven on the
Elvish isle of Tol Eressea near the coasts of Valinor, which bears the name of
Avallonê, "for it is of all cities nearest to Valinor" ("Silmarillion"
p.320):
Quant la pucele ist fors a l'us,
Sor le palefroi detriers li
De plain esclais Lanval sailli
O li s'en vait en Avalon,
Ce nos racontent li breton,
En un ille qui molt est biaus...
Nus hom n'en o‹ plus parler,
Ne je n'en sai avant conter.
(When the lady went out through the door On the steed behind her Lanval jumped
with ardour And it took him to Avalon As the Breton say, -To this most beautiful island...
Since then nobody has heard of him And I am unable to tell you anything else about it.).
The strangeness of the Other World is sometimes stressed by introducing the
detail of the mortals finding its dwellings empty and seemingly desolate (cf.
Eärendil's arrival to Tirion). In "Yonec" the fantastic city's deserted
streets seem dead. That is how the heroine's way there is described:
Icel sentier errat e tient,
De si que a une hoge vient.
En cele hoge ot une entree,
de cel sanc fu tute arusee
...Tant ad le dreit chemin err‚
Que fors de la hoge (est) issue
E en un mut bel pre venue...
La trace en suit par mi le pre...
Assez pres ot une cit‚,
De murs fu close tut entur.
(She followed thispath up toThe foot of the hill, In that hill there was an opening
All stained with blood.She went due straight Until she came out of the hillAnd found herself
in a very beautiful meadow. She followed the track tu the middle of the meadowAnd saw a city
Within the walls.).
Here the allusion to the mysterious folk of the hills of Ireland, the Sidhe,
is clearly perceived. Sometimes, strange as it might seem, the land of Faery
is associated with the Land of the Dead, as in "Sir Orfeo":
Then he (Orfeo) began to gaze about,
and saw within the walls a rout
of folk that were thither drawn below,
and mourned as dead, but were not so.
For some there stood who had no head,
and some no arms, nor feet; some bled
and through their bodies wounds were set,
and some were strangled as they ate...
and some were withered in the fire,
and some on horse, in war's attire. ("Sir Orfeo" p.125)
Death in all its hideous forms is revealed to Sir Orfeo's eyes as soon as he
enters the Faery realm in search of his wife. As for the supernatural beings
of that place, even when they appear in the real world, they remain apart from
it, like shadows of the past: wandering in the forest, Orfeo often sees a
fairy-host, but it seems to be only a vision, for they never stop and never
take heed of him or answer back:
...never a beast they took nor slew,
and where they went he never knew...("Sir Orfeo" p.122)
In Professor Tolkien's mythological system the Land of the Dead is indeed part
of the supernatural Valinorean world (halls of Mandos), but surely not the
whole of it! On the contrary, the Far West is the place of renascence and
eternal bliss as opposed to the mortal lands of woe and darkness; the contrast
is clearly perceived in the last reference to Felagund:
...there on hill-top might one find
a green grave and a stone set,
and there there lie the white bones yet
of Felagund, of Finrod's son -
...while Felagund laughs beneath the trees
in Valinor and comes no more
to this grey world of tears and war.(2869-2877)
According to the folklore tradition and consequently that of breton lays the
supernatural world is not liable to death and old age, it is almost immobile,
where three days of happiness last so long that in the real world they equal
three hundred years ("Guingamor" lines 533-540). The same is partly true about
Valinor; these lands do not know death and passing away, but if in the lays
this seems to be the quality of the place itself, in Tolkien's mythological
system "it is not the land of Manwë that makes its people deathless, but
the deathless, that dwell therein have hallowed the land" ("Silmarillion"
p.326), and if a mortal happens to get there, he "would but wither and grow
weary the sooner, as moths in a light too strong and
stedfast" (ibid.). In Breton lays it is not so; anyone lucky enough to find
the magic land acquires immortality and enjoys the bliss of its original
inhabitants - on certain conditions, of course, for a ban is set for the lucky
one. Guingamor comes back to the mortal lands after three ages of happiness
which seemed to him three days, forgets the interdiction not to eat anything
and hardly has he eaten three apples that he falls from his horse, weak and
powerless, a withered old man. Eating fruits of the mortal lands return to
Guingamor the frail nature of the mortals - but nevertheless according to the
lays it possible for a mortal to denounce it for a while, until the ban is
broken. It is not so in the Professor Tolkien's world; in comparison with it
the folklore conception looks much more primitive and naive: can a living
being change its nature and, leaving one's own people, become part of the
other by means of a geographical transposition only? Now what about fairies
themselves - are they subject to death? here the concept of breton lays comes
very close to that of professor Tolkien: judging by a few examples fairies
know neither natural death nor old age (fays of "Lanval" and "Guingamor" do
not seem to grow older), but they can be slain and salin they are ("Yonec") -
just like the Quendi described by Tolkien. There are many other fairy motives
in breton lays which are present in the "Lay of Leithian" as well: animals
speakingwith human voices, inanimate objects becoming alive, shape-changers
etc. In "Tyolet" the protagonist is taught by a fay to attractwild beasts by a
whistle, and the strange gift, amounting to a certain power over animals,
helps him later on. In Tolkien's world there are a few cases (not exactly in
the Lay) of human children being brought up among the Elves and thus becoming
superiorin knowledge to other humans. Tydorel, born by a supernatural being
and a mortal woman, has a magic gift of not sleeping at all. This gift,
however, seems to have no other significance than to indicate his background,
for, as he is justly told:
...n'est pas d'ome
Qui ne dort ne qui ne prent somme.
(The one who does not sleep is not a man.).
Bearing this stigma he belongs to the Other World, the world of a different
nature, which is shown by his final disappearance in the depths of the lake at
the end of the lay - the lake that is the land of his father and his true
motherland. In Tolkien's world children of "mixed marriages" are always marked
with a magic gift (Lúthien inherits the power of enchantment from her
mother the Maia; Eärendil is troubled with quenchless longing for the Wide
Sea); but, unlike in breton lays, these distinctions are always motivated, for
their bearers come into the world to fulfil a certain mission and "the high
doom is upon their brow". It is not for nothing that the call of the sea has
such a power over Eärendil - he is destined to bear the message of the two
people to the Valar; but for the power of enchantment inherited by
Lúthien, the quest of the Silmarils would have certainly failed. Breton
lays seem to pile up magical elements just for the sake of embellishment, for
the folklore concept of the faery realm and its laws is certainly very vague
and somewhat primitive; it bears an imprint of the humans'ways of thinking; in
the "Lay of Leithian" every slightest detail is endowed with great
significance; everything is well thought-over, every action is well-grounded;
it is so true to the laws of faery that it might have been written by an Elf.
Analysing Breton lays one cannnot fail to notice certain cases when an object
in addition to its function in the development of the plot acquires a symbolic
meaning which adds certain depth to the narration and and helps to build up a
certain mood. In "ChiŠvrefeille" the image of honeysuckle and hazel that
live in symbiosisand die if separated suggests the vital importance of
Tristram and Isaud's union. The clothes of Bisclavret are at the same time the
pivot of action and an emblem of thecivilized life; once he quits them, he
becomes a savage beast; once he puts them on, he becomes a man again. These
images seem to be really genuine, but most of them are trite, reflecting the
traditional correspondence between an object and an idea that it evokes in
mind; the correspondence which is reproduced in the imagery system of many a
folklore tale and ballad. The nightingale killed and its blood staining the
lady's apparel above her breast, the trap set for the bird by a jealous
husband; the moonlight that allows the lovers to see each other at night, the
windows that allow the exchange of communication - all these symbols are
fairly transparent and monosemantic; their meaning is easily perceived leaving
no room for controversial interpretations.
In the "lay of leithian" the system of symbols is not that easily deciphered;
they admit of more than one interpretation, the ambiguity and polysemy of
images adding to the impression of the many-dimensional, polyphonic world of
the Lay. The pivot of action, the object of the Quest and the compositional
centre of the Lay, the crossroad of all the plot-lines is the Silmaril of the
Iron Crown: the symbol of primordeal, unsallied, pure and purifying light, a
crystal filled with the blended radiance of the Two Trees created apart from
Evil and Darkness, in which the fates of arda are locked; the portent of the
final, though immesurably distant victory of light and Good, when the world
will be restored to its original, unmarred, perfect form - in the global,
cosmogonical sence. it is not for nothing that its light does not fade even in
the pitch-dark pits of Angband, where any other thing alive is either
destroyed or distorted. In a more restricted sense it becomes a symbol of
Hope, a guiding star for the afflicted people of the Middle-earth. In a more
pragmatic sense, the one dictated by the plot, it is but a hard-accessible
treasure to be won from the enemy; a wedding-gift of Beren to King Thingol, a
precious stone, the acquisition of which proves a mortal worthy to be numbered
among the heroes of the legendary days and to claim an Elf-maiden, the
incarnation of Beauty and magic power, in marriage. The Ring of Barahir
becomes a pledge of friendship and help in time of need between an Elfin house
and that of Beren - but it is also a fatal chain binding Felagund's fate and
life to the fates of those involved in the Silmaril Quest, bringing him into
the scene of action irrespective of his will, depriving him of the opportunity
to act otherwise, as indeed it was foretold by Finrod himself himself:"An oath
I too shall swear and must be free to fulfill it and gointo
darkness".("Silmarillion" p.155.). Hence a pledge of frienship and gratitude
becomes a bond of death; and Beren producing the ring in proof of his, Beren's
origin, turns therefore into a herald of Doom for the elf-king. The horrible
subterranean fortress of Angband, called more than once "the iron hell', in
which gloomy pits everything alive perishes, loses its original nature and,
distorted, succumbs to its master's dominant, corrupting will is a symbol of
physical pain and torture, of death in its most hideous form on the one hand,
and the source of hopelessness and tyranny which grow apace while new
territories are crumbled under the Dark lord's hand and new wills are bent to
his, threatening the very existence of the world we know, on the other hand.
Lúthien's song is, on the one hand, a means of defeating the enemy; on the
other hand, a proof that the enchantments of light and beauty are more
powerful than those of darkness and evil. the mythological invention of
Tolkien surprises the reader by the colourful richness and divdrsity of its
symbolism, which leave room for individual interpretation, according to the
interpreter's background information, mood and his own vision of the world.
Now if we turn our attention to the arrangement of characters in Breton lays,
we shall see they are not numerous. Lays being the so-called "literature of
action', the author is interested in the intrigue; the character-drawing is
very rapid, sketchy and "summary", the narration is restricted to a retelling
of a moving story without any complications or superfluous details. Even the
protagonists are quite schematically drawn, strictly divided into good, bad
and neutral ones, without so much as an attempt at a more psychological
approach. They are verypredictable, being in a way a personification of a
certain concrete quality, a romance clichés, so to speak, the same types
that travel from one lay to another: an exemplary knight, brave, noble and
courteous (Lanval, Tyolet, graelent, Tristram), a beautiful lady, lovable,
true and tender-hearted (Frˆne, the fay of "Lanval", the heroine of
"Yonec"), a treacherous wife (in "Bisclavret" and "Lanval'), a jealous husband
(Muldumarec in "Yonec"). These characters are but static, i.e. they do not
undergo any changes with the development of the plot; from the beginning to
end they remain the same. there is an attempt at a deeper psychological
dilemma in "Eliduc", where the protagonist is torn between his love for the
young Guilliadon and his marital duty towards his wife, and, while this inner
struggle makes him irresolute, the conflict is happily solved by Guildeluec
the wife, who prudently withdraws from the scene and the lovers marry happily.
The situation is far from being psychologically convincing, though; still more
improbable is the end; all the three renounce the notion of carnal love and
are happy in a convent in a sort of a celestial union.
The psychological insight of "Eliduc" is very superficial so far, being rather
an exceptional case for the genre. The secondary characters are not-too
numerous either, being endowed with the auxiliary function of giving help to
the hero or his enemy, they are totally deprived of all psychological
profundity; moreover, of a particular physical aspect or individualised
characters They are also "clichés" - a noble an arbitrator in the trial
Bisclavret versus his wife an unjust judge misled by his wicked wife
in-Lanval's but in any case the embodiment of the supreme executive power; a
wicked servant-woman ("Yonec") or a faithful steward in "Orfeo", or servants
deprived of any individuality whatsoever, almost part of the settings as the
fay's handmaids in "Lanval".
The characters employed in the "Lay of leithian" are far more numerous, though
the degree of their involvement into the action varies greatly. The interwoven
plot-lines allow us to count more than two protagonists (Beren and Lúthien
first and foremost, Finrod and Thingol, and their antagonists whose influence
upon the development of the plot is fairly weighty), plenty of supporting
roles (like dairon and barahir, celegorm and Curufin, Gorlim and Eilinel
etc.); and numberless creatures just alluded to, some referring to the
background knowledge of the reader, some really difficult to place (Maglor,
Fëanor, tinfang gelion); the index of names being a verylengthyone. There
are no anonymous characters - each one is duly named and dulyplaced. In
accordance with the law of the genre some characters are to a great
extent"one-sided", that is, displaying one side of their nature, that produces
an impression of certain integrity. But psychological insight is always
present, to a greater or smaller degree, even in the case of the secondary
characters. They are dynamic: the adversities that they go through leave a
distinct imprint upon their personalities. Beren, a hot-headed impetuous youth
of the first cantos is certainly different from a much wiser person who has
lived to see his friends die because of his rash promise and survived in the
prisons of the Wisard's isle; the one rueing bitterly his oath on the brink of
Dor-na-Fauglith, and grimly determined to shield Lúthien from the
consequences of it:
Thrice now mine oath I curse, - he said,
that under shadow thee has led!(p.278)
A heart-rending case of a human tragedy in war-time is Gorlim the Unhappy,
"traitor betrayed", torn between his love for his wife and loyalty to his
friends:
But all he thought twixt love of lord
and hatred of the king abhorred
and anguish for fair Eilinel
who drooped alone, what tale shall tell?(p.163)
This passage of inner struggle and bitter reflexions seem to fall out of the
genre of the lay (and that of the geste) with its predictability, bases upon
the characters being "programmed' form the very beginning, integral and
unchanging. King Thingol is a very controversial case. For many a reader he is
but a petty tyrant, separating the lovers and sending Beren on a perilous
quest, in order to keep his oath (not to hurt this mortal) verbally and still
get rid of him once and for good. On the other hand, his actions are more than
justified: in what other way is a king expected to treat a ragged and wayworn
stranger of a presumably inferior race tresspassing on his territories and
claiming his only daughter, his most valuable treasure in marriage? Just and
wise, as it suits a powerful Elfin King, he is nevertheless capable of acting
spontaneously and even rashly, blinded by anger and parental love, which make
him more attractively "human", so to speak; but, perceiving his mistake, he is
willing enough to do justice to the wronged person. his rashness and princely
pride are well balanced by divine wisdom of the sage, merciful, farsighted
melian, one of the most attractive characters of the Lay. Another
controversial case is Dairon the minstrel, another one in the long row of
"unwilling traitors", who loved Lúthien and betrayed her twice; one more
case of bitter inner struggle and instant repentance of what he has done:
But Dairon looked on Lúthien,
and would he had not spoken then,
and no more would he speak that day...(p.1810)
But did he betray Lúthien because of malice and jealousy towards Beren, or
only because he was anxious to save her from the dangerous fate she was eager
to face?
In Breton lays it is the attitude of secondary characters towards the lovers
that defines their status: they are either friends or foes. in the Lay not
everyone who threatens Beren and Lúthien is totally evil. Fëanor's
sons Celegorm and Curufin, kidnapping Lúthien, wounding Beren, provoking a
riot in Nargothrond, setting its citisens against their lawful king, the
initiators of discord and enmity seem to be disagreeable enough. But a short
historical excursus with which the Canto opens, arouses certain doubts as to
the degree of their guilt. The dreadful oath that they pledged under the
greatest provocation possible gets the upper hand of them, drives them on,
compelling them to commit their crimes in order to prevent a mortal from
getting hold of their heirloom:
Be he friend or foe, or seed defiled
of Morgoth Bauglir, or mortal child,
that in after days on earth shall dwell,
no law, nor love, nor league of hell,
no might of gods, not moveless fate
shall him defend from wrath and hate
of Fëanor's sons, whotakes or steals
or finding keeps the Silmarils,
the thrice-enchanted globes of light
that shine until the final night. (p.211-212)
Such sacred names did they bring to witness, that the oath could not be broken
"though earth and heaven shake'. The two brothers are a tragic example of
fates ruined and distorted, they are evil-doers not wholly responsible for
their deed and actually detesting what they are doing, when the oath turns
almost into a living being, guiding the Fëanorings'actions, thoughts and
decisions, while the latter ones are almost deprived of their individuality,
which otherwise would have proved an outstanding, generous and gifted one, and
become but instruments of some evil Doom. there is much justice in that: those
who claim the role of Doom eventually become its instruments and slaves, not
its masters, but one cannot help sympathising with Fëanorings in spite of
all their ill-doings, moreover that they pay most dearly for what they are
guilty of. They are victims, too - the victims of that merciless evil force
that emanates from Angband, the evil unquestionable and unjustifiable.
Many critics have stated that in Tolkien's world the division between Evil and
Good is very sharp indeed and admits of no compromise. in the light of modern
literature where vice is but too often justified and praised, and painted in
most attractive colours, where a villain and a hero are often blended into one
and the boundaries are blurred, it seems really essential to me to be able to
draw a borderline - when the world is moving steadily to the point at which
the distinction between good and Evil, growing vaguer and vaguer, would
disappear altogether and everybody would be only too happy to seal a
compromise. Tolkien's children, as he writes in a note to his essay "On
Fairy-stories", often asked him with a great degree of personal involvement,
whether this or thatcharacter was good or evil. "That is, they were more
concerned to get the right side and the Wrong side clear. For that is a
question equally important in History and in Faërié" ("On
fairy-stories' p.38.). In Tolkien's world it is no less important. there are
creatures corrupted and misled, the good side of them being cruelly surpressed
or destroyed altogether by a stronger will; they can be sympathised with. but
there is nothing to justify in the forces that mislead and corrupt them, for
they are the embodiment of Evil itself. The source of this Evil and its
guiding centre is incarnated in Angband and its master, called Morgoth, the
Dark foe, equally perilous and destructive for the fates of the World and for
the fates of the individuals. there are but a few books where Evil is depicted
so repulsive and hateful, where Good is portrayed so radiantly beautiful and
powerfully attractive; no doubtdue to the pervading influence of the Christian
belief of the author. his approach is far from being biased: the evil forces
are so repulsive not just because it isnecessary to produce certaingrounds
for fighting against them; it is not for abstract likes and dislikes, and
preference of Darkness to Light that the dark forces are accused; it is not a
different vision but quiteconcrete, real, repulsive actionsand deeds that are
condemned. Almost allof them are duly mentioned in the contents of the Lay,
mostly in the flashbacks: the slaying of the Two Trees, the stealing of the
Silmarils and thus ruining the life of the whole house, nay, of the whole
people of the Noldor/Gnomes, who "fought and laboured in the North far from
their homes"; boundless tyranny and blood-spilling;
With fire and sword his ruin red
on all that would not bow the head
like lightning fell. The Northern land
lay groaning neath his ghastly hand. (p.161)
Another passage would illustrate the statement wonderfully: that is what
awaited the rebellious ones in the pits of Angband:
There hammers clanged, and tongues there cried
with sound like smitten stone; there wailed
faint from far under, called and failed
amid the iron clink of chain
voices of captives put to pain. (p.295).
one cannot help mentioning playing dirty tricks upon the unfortunate creatures
driven by despair to putting their trust in the forcesof Evil (Gorlim and
Lilinel). No less hateful is Morgoth's "pupil", Thu/Sauron, the master of the
Wisard's Isle:
Now was he Morgoth's mightiest lord,
master of Wolves, whose shivering howl
forever echoed in the hills and foul
enchantments and dark sigaldrydid weave and wield...(p.228).
and his vile servants: Orcs, fell beasts and other devilish creatures:
...No ruth did feel
the legions of his marchalled hate,
on whom did wolf and raven wait;
and black the ravens sat and cried
upon their banners black, and wide
was heard their hideous chanting dread
above thereek and trampled dead.(p.161).
Neither of them can create; their mission istotally destructive, and the only
thing they can produce is new means of the destruction of life; and here roots
the source of their boundless strength and power, the idea being well
formulated by V.Krapivin: "Беда в том, что злу живется гораздо легче. У
него ведь одна цель: уничтожить добро. А у добра целей две, во-первых,
творить, строить, созидать мир,а во-вторых, защищать то, что уже сделано, от
зла. Значит, и энергии нужно вдвое. А ее у добра и зла, увы, поровну... "
hence their temporary superiority over the forces of good. But here also roots
their doom: since they are unable to create, they have no future. That iswhy,
probably, in spite of its dark atmosphere and great sadness, envelopping the
world of the Lay, "amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death the
light that endures".
Among the character-drawing means descriptions play an important part both in
Breton lays and the "Lay of Leithian". But it is sufficient to compare two
passages to see the difference. For instance, that is how the fay of "Lanval"
is portrayed:
Ele ert vestue en itel guise
De chainsil blanc et de chemise
Que tuit li cost‚ li paroient
Qui de deux parz laci‚ esoient..
.
Le col plus blanc aue noif sor branchi,
les eulz ot vairs et blanc le vis,
Bele bouche, nes bien assis,
Les sorciz bruns et bel le front
Et le chief cresp et auques blont.
Fils d'or ne giete tel luor
Com si chevel contre le jor...
(She wears a white robe trimmed on both flanks with silken threads; The neck is
whiter than the snow on branches; her face is fair, her eyes changing,hermouth is pretty,
her nose regular, Her eye-lashes are dark and her front perfect,Her hair isblond and wavy;
Threads of gold do not shine so brightlyAs her ringlets in the rays of sun.).
And here is the portrait of Lúthien:
Such lissom limbs no more shall run
on the green earth beneath the sun;
so fair a maid no more shall be
from dawn to dusk, from sun to sea.
Her robe was blue as summer skies,
But grey as evening were her eyes;
'twas sewn with golden lilies fair,
but dark as shadow was her hair.
Her feet were light as bird on wing,
her laughter lighter, than the spring...(p.155)
In Breton lays the descriptions are less picturesque, so to speak, they
aremore detailed and concrete; those of the Lay are more abstract and
imaginative, more metaphorical; they are not limited by the meticulous
enumeration of colours and forms, but create an image ofsurpassing emotional
influence. The Lay abounds in comparisons on a global scale ("from dawn to
dusk, from sun to sea", "grey as evening", "lighter than the spring"); while
in Marie's lays it is material objects that are brought into comparison
("threads of gold"). The great merit of Marie is having preserved in her tales
their primitive, folklore form, while theexpressiveness, psychological
complexity and exquisite poetic form of Tolkien are certainly of a higher level.
One more character-drawing means is speech-characteristics. Breton lays make
no use of it, though there are many a case of direct speech in them:
Respont la dame:"Or i alons!
S'il est mort, nos l'enfuirons;
Nostre prestres nos aidera.
Se vif le truis, il parlera".
(The dame respods:"Let's go there: If he is dead, we shall bury him,And our
priests will help us. If he is alive, he will speak".)
The speech of the characters is not stylistically marked, while in the Lay it
is one of the most powerful means of individualization of the characters. The
difference is no in grammatical structures, but in the choice of vocabulary
rather. The speech of Orcs is no less grammatical than that of, say, Beren,
but such epithets as "this robber fool" betray their coarse, uncivilised
nature. The speech of Elf-lords abounds in obsolete words and literary
archaisms ("mayhap", "naught", "guerdon") as well as archaic grammatical forms
("Who art thou stumblest hither?") which add to the sonorous majesty of
their conversation. A peculiar detail can be observed if we compare the two
Gorlim-episodes: the one in the original manuscript and the corresponding
passage in the Lay Recommenced. In the first case it is Morgoth himself that
the unfortunatevictim confronts; in the second case it is Thu/Sauron. It is
evident that which of the two it was isnot essential for the plot - both
delight in such low treachery; but it is curious to notice the striking
difference in their speech-characteristics. Morgoth is elaborately polite in
his conversation; he NEVER swears, he is exquisitely, mockingly amiable - with
that amiability and politeness of a murderer that makes him even more
frightfully real (the expression "O traitor dear!" is inimitable); while the
less civilized Sauron, evidently more hot-tempered and impetuous, a rougher
creature in all respects, finds immense pleasure in abusing his defenseless
captive ("mortal base", "thou thrall", "base, cringing worm"). The elaborate
character-drawing means employed by Tolkien, i.e. action, descriptions, inner
monologues, speech-characteristics etc. make his characters far more vivid and
individual than those of Breton lays, adding to the indisputable literary
merits of the Lay.
Now I would like to proceed to the literary analysis of the form, of the
phonetic, lexical and syntactical aspects of the lays. Marking some points of
similarity and difference between the two, we should bear in mind that the two
authors, between whom there is roughly speaking a gap of eight centuries,
represent two distinct traditions: Marie pertains to the French one, though
strongly influenced by the matter of Britain, while Tolkien's works bear an
imprint of the Anglo-Saxon one; one should also take into consideration the
peculiarities of their creative methods. Marie preserves the simplicity ot the
original primitive form, while Professor Tolkien relishes in unprecedented
intricasies of stanza and line. "Romanticism, multitudinousness, imperfect
comprehension: these arethe poet's goals achieved stylistically much more than
semantically", - thus T.A. Shippey characterises what he calls the "elvish
tradition" in Tolkien's writings, saying that "suggestiveness is much aidedby
devices not of sense but of sound". Indeed, the melodious effect, achieved in
Tolkien's versification is almost unprecedented.
Rhyme and rhythm are easy to recognize; the metrical arrangement of both
Breton lays and the "Lay of leithian" being practically identical, can be
described as iambic tetrameter or octosyllabic couplet. In the more energetic
Breton lays we come across the one-syllable feminine and masculine rhymes
only; in the Lay there are cases of two-syllable rhymes, like
"growing-flowing'; but they are pretty scarce and that makes one think that in
the final variantthey would possibly have been eliminated; to my mind they do
not improve the rhythmic pattern. Within the "Lay of leithian" there is a case
of the rhythmic pattern being changed - something that I have not come across
in breton lays. That occurs in Canto 7, the new meter being especially
suitable to a riddle contest; but pretty soon the verse returns to the common
metrical pattern and the riddling element disappears. This is the only
variation in the rhyming-rhythmic arrangement to be observed; otherwise the
pattern seems to be identical:
A king there was in times of old:
ere Men yet walked upon the mould;
his power was reared in cavern's shade,
his hand was over glen and glade.("Lay of Leithian")
En ce tens tint Hoilas la terre,
Sovent en pais, sovent en guerre,
Li rois avoit unsien baron
Qui estoit sire de Lion. ("Guigemar").
(At those times Hoel ownes the land In war and peace.there was a baron of his
Who was Lord of Leon.).
It is not typical for French poetry to intensify the desired effect recurring
to any other phonetic devices. On the contrary, alliteration, assonance etc.
constitute an integral element of the Anglo-Saxon and therefore English
tradition. Professor Tolkien, being a great connoisseur ofthese (see his essay
"On Translating Beowulf" and his own translations), good at rendering the
alliterative models of "Sir Gawain" and phonetic intricacies of "Pearl" into
Modern English, introduces these devices into the syllabo-tonic "Lay of
Leithian". The amount of the phonetic devices in this particular poem is
certainly much greater than in any other syllabo-tonic verses; and they fit in
a most natural and organic way into its texture, creating a polyphonic,
euphonic, melodious effect. There are whole passages, not separate lines, just
ringing with alliteration (and creating a problem hard to resolve for a
translator into Slavonic languages, since alliteration is originally alien to
them). Here is an example of such a passage:
An autumn waned, a winter laid
The Withered leaves in grove and glade;
the beeches bare were gaunt and grey,
and red their leaves beneath them lay...
By dawn and dusk he seeks her still,
by noon and night in valleys chill...(p.178).
and later: The wind of winter winds his horn...
Tolkien seems to be especially fond of the alliterative tight semantic fits,
like "grove and glade', "noon and night", "dawn and dusk", which are also
immensely difficult to render into Russian.
There are cases of onomatopoeia, both direct (sea roars, birds shrill) and
indirect (the murmurouth warmth).
Great attention is payed to the phonetic structure of proper names. In
professor Tolkien's writings the theory of the sound-meaning correlation seems
to be absolutely true. It is enough to pronounce a name irrespective of the
context so that it became absolutely clear whether the said character is good
or bad; cf.Carcharoth, where the cacophonous combination of H, K, O, R
sounds produces an impression of something snarling and unexpressively nasty,
and Tinúviel which is song itself with its I,EL, U, N. It is hard to
judge in the case of Breton lays, since proper names are not too numerous
there; still a particularly unpleasant name Muldumarec is given to aa
equally unpleasant person, while names like Guilladon and Lanval
produce quite a favourable impression.
One of the most powerful image-building means is lexical stylistic devices.
Unlike the comparatively simple breton lays the "Lay of Leithian" abounds in
intricate comparisons, picturesque metaphors, colourful epithets piled up.
Metaphors, transferring some quality from one object to another, are very
common in the Lay:
...as daylight melted into shade...(line 81)
...when first the shaggy wood unfurled...(404)
...beneath the dark and starry dome
that hung above the dawn of earth...(406-7)
...smokes and steams,
stabbed with flickering lightning-gleams...(3874-5)
In most cases the quality is transferred from an animate object to an
inanimate one, which creates a strong impression of the inanimate world being
endowed with life of its own, the world where some animative powers are at
work. Thus the feeling of faery, of the multiformity and many-dimansional
structure of the world is intensified; everything speaks with its own voice,
the border-line between the abstract and concrete, the animate and inanimate
becomes blurred and vague. There are in fact misleading cases where what seems
to be a metaphor is actually not, where the direct meaning of the word should
be takeninto consideration, not the transferred one. For instance, the lines:
...before the sun and moon we know
were lit to sail above the world...
would be understood metaphorically in any other work of art; but here, in
accordance with the background information about the laws of this secondary
world, they are to be taken literally: indeed, the sun and the moon were lit
by Varda; indeed, Arien and Tilion were chosen to sail them above the world,
like ships in the sea. I suppose, the same is true about seeming hyperboles:
can there be any in the narration describing a Faery world based upon the laws
drastically different from the world we are accustomed to? If it is stated
that the King of the Northern land was "far older, stronger, than the stone
the world is built of"(lines 110-1), you may be sure it is not just a figure
of speech, an exaggeration; indeed, he is older than the stone, for he was
created before the beginning of the world, and possibly stronger, since the
stone is the result of creative work of the Powers themselves, he once being
numbered among them.
Metonymy is typical for ancient epics, where part of the whole becomes a
symbol for some global notion. There are plenty of such cases in the "Lay of
Leithian":
...The Northern land
lay groaning neath his ghastly hand.(lines 125-26)
Yet small as was their hunted band,
still fell and fearless was each hand...(134-5)
...far away beyond the ken
of searching eyes...
Various interjections aid to intensify the emotional tension; at the same
time, as I strongly suspect, helping to fill in the rhythmical pattern:
O traitor dear! (223)
Ha! Beren comes too late!
Placed at the beginning of the line, they create an additional melodious
effect, at the same time laying a particular stress upon the line that they
precede, making the passage still more moving and emotionally loaded:
A! Lúthien! A! Lúthien!
More fair than any child of Men;
O! loveliest maid of Elfinesse,
what madness does thee now possess!
Carefully chosen epithets, bound to "create an atmosphere of objective
evaluation, whereas it actually conveys the subjective attitude of the writer"
(I.R.Galperin. Stylistics.) embellish the textual structure of the Lay. They
are simple ("sweet surprise", "woven woods", "ghastly hand") and compound
("many-pillared tomb", "many-pillared hall"); some of them form alliterative
units with the nouns they modify; some of them are sort of clichés, which
are repeated more than once in the text as set-expressions ("lissom limbs");
some form set-combinations with proper names, becoming constant modifiers of
this or that particular character with a greater degree of predictability,
like "Barahir the bold", "White Eilinel", "Gorlim the Unhappy". A great amount
of epithets are employed as post-modifiers - this syntactical peculiarity of
the Lay probably can be accounted for by the influence of Breton lays, where,
according to the laws of the French language, adjectives are found in
postposition ("lances keen", "trumpets long", "challenge strong", "shadows
bleak and strong"). There are cases when epithets "frame' the noun, placed
between a postmodifyer and a premodifyer:"wide earth unexplored', "golden
lilies fair". Lush piling up of the epithets brings the Lay really close to
ancient epics enjoying in verbous descriptions:
to West the ancient Ocean roared,
unsailed and shoreless, wide and wild...
Again, there are misleading cases when the original meaning of the author in
this or that particular epithet and the reader's comprehension unfortunately
fall apart. There is a funny case with the "dizzy moon", C.S. Lewis commenting
on the epithet as follows;"This sort of half-hearted personification is of
course to be distinguished from genuine mythology" ("Lays of
Beleriand" p.323), when what the author really meant by that was not
personification at all, but only the fact that the moon looked dizzy and
twisted because of the tears in the eyes of Beren looking at it.
Token-names, which can be regarded as a case of antonomasia within the
linguistic domain of Quenya and Sindarin have already been discussed. There is
just to be mentioned that this particular stylistic device probably signals
the influence of Icelandic sagas, where it was customary for a character to
bear a nickname, like Harald Fair-haired or Thornstein Bloody sword.
Similes, characterising the object by bringing it into contact with another
thing, belonging to an entirely different class, are quite common both in
Breton lays and the "Lay of Leithian". Those of Breton lays are more
earth-bound, whereas the similes of Tolkien are more imaginative and
high-flown; Marie compares material objects, while in the Lay we find a much
higher degree of abstraction. There was an example cited above;
Fils d'or ne giete tel luor
Com si chevel contre le jor. ("Lanval")
cf. Grey as evening were her eyes...
dark as shadow was her hair.("Lay of Leithian")
Piling up of similes within one sentence builds up uncommonly vivid images,
intensifying the atmosphere of, say, horror, as in the scene of escape from
Angband:
As gleams of swords in fire there flashed
the fangs of Carcharoth, and crashed
together like a trap, that tore
the hand about the wrist...(4216-19)
or that of uncomparable beauty and awe, as in Menegroth:
...There a light
like day immortal and like night
of stars unclouded, shone and gleamed.
A vault of topless trees it seemed,
whose trunks of carven stone there stood
like towers of an enchanted wood...(992-996)
Periphrasis, not uncommon in the "Lay of leithian", which serves the purpose
of renaming of the object, identified in different ways, brings to mind the
kennings of Anglo-saxon poetry, the device which can be observed in "Beowulf'.
A set of epithets was traditionally applied to a certain notion, for instance:
the sea is characterized as "the whale's way', "the waves'domain"; the
set-expression "giver of rings" is usually applicable to the king; while in
case with Grendel we have got a various set of periphrases like: "the hellish
fiend", "ranger of moors', "the brutish demon", "this gruesome creature",
"notorious prowler of the borderland' etc.
The author of the "Lay of Leithian' never runs short of the ingenious means of
identifying his characters, expressing his own attitude on the one hand and
creating versatile, vivid images on the other. Thus Thu/Sauron is "demon
dark", "phantom vile", "one most evil"; the dreadful wolf of Angband is
described as "a biding doom', "the waiting threat", "the Red Maw',or "unhappy,
tortured thrall". Lúthien, in accordance with her background and personal
endowments, is "the loveliest maid of Elfiness', "that elfin maid", "the
daughter of the deathless queen" and "Thingol's elfin child". We shall not
come across such diverse ways of characterizing one and the same thing in far
more simplified Breton lays with their straightforward and unambiguous
directness of nomination; "la pucelle" or "la damoiselle" for a heroine, "le
dancel" for a hero, without going into further detail.
The choice of words in the "Lay of Leithian" is also very specific, unlike
that of Breton lays, the bulwark of its vocabulary being neutral. Tolkien's
style is euphonious, high-flown and lofty. In order to produce the elevated
effect, matching the seriousness of the matter discussed and the feeling of
remoteness, the author recurs more than once to obsolete, obsolescent, archaic
or rarely used literary words. The impression would would have been totally
ruined by insertion of colloquial words or slang-expressions, so there isnone,
even in the speech of the most uncouth and disagreeable characters. After all,
it is meant to be a translation from the ancient Eldarin language, and the
translators of ancient texts favour the device of revival of obsolete words
(e.g. K.Crossley-Holland, translating "Beowulf" revives an Anglo-Saxon word
"scrian": "hell-whisperers shrithe in their wonderings", that is, slip
along menacingly, like a snake.) Christopher Tolkien kindly provides the
readers with a glossary of obsolete words, to facilitate the process of
understanding, and it is a lengthy one. Here are a few examples of nouns and
pronouns, verbs, adjectives and adverbs:
methinks it is that thou hast seen!(227)
from dolour long in clinging night...(2814)
who in this wood have chains enow...(1304)
for fain thy dancing I wuold see! (823)
...loath or lief...(3417)
there are some archaic grammatical forms:
...the earth quook...(3582) - old past tense of "quake";
...with silken robe and silver shoon...(4900 - old plural of "shoe";
...a-hunting fleet...(46)
adjectives like "atwinkle' (mod. "twinkling"), "aquake"(mod. "quaking");
verb-forms like "cometh", "hast seen" etc.
There occur unrecorded forms as well:
...like sylphine maidens of the air...(adj. "sylphine" of the noun "sylph" is
not recorded).
There also occur the so-called historic words:
...about him sat his awful thanes...(3896)
...to match the weregild of a king...(177, Lay Recommenced)
That also add to the atmosphere of remoteness and antiquity, while reviving
certain notions of the past.
The "Lay of Leithian" is characterized by a well-developed, intricate
syntactical structure with certain peculiarities of its own. I have already
mentioned the preference for postmodifiers, like in "shadow bleak and cold",
"Barahir the bold" etc. Inversion is also very common, though not typical for
the English language with its word-order strictly fixed. It is true that
poetry admits of a comparatively free word-order, but in this particular work
the amount of inverted phrases is certainly much greater than in the
traditional versification. I am inclined to think that the influence of the
French pattern is manifest here. In the Old french Language, the language of
Breton lays the word-order was comparatively free, the object as well as the
predicate could precede the subject of the sentence - that suggests a special
speech fashion, where the relics of the synthetical language structure were of
a considerably greater importance:
...A Cardeil sejornait li roi...(In Cardeil abode the king.) (Adv.mod. -
Pred. - Subject) ...Guigemar nomment le dancel...(Guigemar they called
the youth.).(Obj. - Pred. - Obj.) ...A merveille l'amoit sa
mere...(Surprisingly loved him his mother.).(adv.mod. - Pred. -Subject)
The same freedom in the word-order is observed in the Lay:
...the creaking of the boughs he heard...(O - S - P)
...together fled they, by the beat
affrighted of their flying feet (the "normal" word-order would be:"affrighted
by the beat of their flying feet");
nnnand her the king more dear did prize...(O - S - P);
...and never came or moon, or day...(AM - P - S)
Inversion attaches logical stress or additional emotive colouring to some
particular part of the utterance and certainly helps to fill the linear
structure;though to my mind when the structures are distinctly alien to the
tradit |
