Michael Hemmer: Divine Condescension in The Silmarillion

     In Tolkien's mythos, there are two primary classes of spiritual beings that were made before the foundation of the physical world: Valar and Maiar. The Maiar, considered to be lesser in stature compared to the Valar were still extremely powerful compared to the Children of Ilúvatar. If you are familiar with Lord of the Rings, Gandalf was a Maiar, as was Sauron. There is one particular Maia I would like to focus on in this post. Melian was the kin of Yavanna and the fourth most powerful Maia. She was also exceedingly beautiful and wise. 

    As a spiritual being, Melian could take on physical form as she pleased, but was not bound to it. However, when the elves awoke she traveled to Middle-earth and fell in love with an elvish King named Elu Thingol. Her and Thingol were married and together ruled the kingdom of Doriath, enjoying a prosperous rule thousands of years long. As Queen, Melian cast a spell of protection over her kingdom, powerful enough to protect the kingdom from tremendously strong dark forces such as Ungoliant. 

    One of the most fascinating parts of Melian's character, and part of what makes her unique, was her decision to condescend into the physical plane for such a prolonged period of time. She decided to limit a part of her power and being in order to remain in Middle-earth and be the Queen of Doriath and wife of Thingol. I think her decision to participate in this divine condescension was important to how Tolkien thought humans communicate with the divine. Divine condescension, also known as accommodation, is the theological principle that states while God is fundamentally unknowable and impossible to understand, he has made himself known in ways that humans can understand and respond to. This necessitates that God would condescend in his communication, in order to be understood.

    

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Jack Snowdon: Danger in the Lake

I will readily admit that I may have procrastinated a bit much in regards to working on my blog posts, waiting for that perfect moment of inspiration to strike, when I should have been working to flesh out my own ideas rather than just letting them come to me. However, with that concession in mind, I am glad to say that something exactly like I had hoped for happened while reading the discussion between Ransom and Hyoi in Chapter 12 of Out of the Silent Planet . The discussion revolves largely around the concept and experience of love and appreciation among the hrossa, and sees Ransom struggling to understand how they can content themselves with valuing the memories rather than replicating the actions, as well as questioning why that can be the way it is with such dangers as the hnakra dwelling in the local waters. Though he does struggle to comprehend them, Hyoi has an answer every step of the way, culminating with the line, "...And I say also this, I do not think the forest woul...
Read more

Katelyn Joyce- The Magician's Nephew & Biblical Parallels

  When reading The Magician's Nephew, I am not sure why I was so shocked at all of the connections that can be made back to scripture. As this is a common occurrence in Lewis’ writing, it should not surprise and excite me as much as it does when I first grasp what is being said and I begin to make those connections. I think it will always catch me off guard and amaze me how intertwined the two storylines can be without them being identical. This is especially true in The Magician’s Nephew. You can see a clear parallel between this book and the book of Genesis in the Bible. Digory is sent to an area of Narnia closed off from the rest and surrounded by a golden gate to retrieve a fruit. He is tempted to use the powers of this fruit to his benefit, but he does the right thing and presents it to Aslan as requested of him. This is similar to the trees and the fruit in the Garden of Eden. There lies a tree with the power to give understanding to good and evil. Eve is tempted and takes th...
Read more

Samuel Swenson-Reinhold: Naming & Knowing

 Once again, I'm going to be referencing my favorite book of all time, The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. One of the key elements of Kvothe's character is his desire to learn the 'name' of things - when you learn the name of something, you have control over it. However, learning the name of the wind, for example, is something incredibly difficult. You have to understand the nature of the wind, you have to know it. So knowing the word "wind" doesn't mean you have power over it. It requires this almost Heideggerian conception of listening and knowing the world and nature.  Kvothe grows in his understanding of the world and at one point learns the name of lightning and the wind, allowing him to wield immense power. This particular aspect of Rothfuss' fantasy had me thinking about our conversations in class about how we 'name' and label things in the prosaic. We think we "know" something, but really we are making an observation. It...
Read more