Aldarion and Erendis
An introduction to a lesser known Tolkien Tragedy
This piece is part of the Choc Board, a 30 day writing challenge instigated by Chocolate Knox. You can read his Substack here. This is day 10.
The most famous of J.R.R Tolkien’s tragedies is the achingly grim ‘the Children of Hurin’. This tale, set in the first-age of middle-earth, is epic in its tragic scope; full of war, treachery, and dragons.
But Tolkien’s work contains a much lesser-known tragic tale, that of Aldarion and Erendis. The story can be found in at least two posthumously published works: ‘the Unfinished Tales’ and ‘the Fall of Numenor’.
Though the story is touched by the shadow of great happenings in middle earth, and though the main character, Aldarion, is the heir to the throne of Numenor, in comparison to the Children of Hurin it is a very domestic tragedy. As such, it’s reflections on masculinity, femininity, marriage, feminism, and the duties and temptations of those with vision and dominion are rich and applicable to the situations many of us find ourselves in today.
I would prefer for you to read it for yourself than for me to do injustice to the story with a hasty synopsis here. Instead, I want to offer a few quotes and comments. And hopefully this will whet your appetite for more.
“‘The need of the king’s house is for a man who knows and loves this land and people, which he will rule’
‘Do I not study men all my days?’ said Aldarion. ‘I can lead and govern them as I will.’
‘Say rather, some men, of like mind with yourself,’ answered the King. ‘there are also women in Numenor, scarce fewer than men; and save your mother, whom indeed you can lead as you will, what do you know of them? Yet one day you must take a wife.”
There are two things to note here. Firstly, Aldarion (the King’s heir and a skilled mariner) is highly competent. He can operate without peer in the world of mariners, where he is surrounded by like-minded men. If he was a mariner then that would be all to the good. But he’s not a mariner, no matter how much he desires to be. He is the king’s heir. And kings need to be able to lead others who are not of like mind.
In addition to that, he needs to be able to lead women. And though he has been able to get his indulgent mother to do all that he wills, that won’t cut it when he is king.
Aldarion has been busy ordering the outside world, but he also needs to learn the wisdom to rule a realm. That can’t be done without conquering his desires for the sea and learning to love his people.
And notice the arena that he needs to enter to learn that wisdom: ‘one day you must take a wife’. He needs the homeward focus of his woman, to learn to govern his domain.
In Eden, Adam is given a woman to ‘garden’ so that he can learn the wisdom he needs to garden the world. The same image is picked up by the bible’s wisdom literature, notably in the song of Solomon, as well as the proverbs’ emphasis on the young prince finding an excellent wife who embodies lady wisdom.
Aldarion’s work at sea was not bad work, its value is shown over and over again in the story. But Aldarion is going to be a king and kings must learn to understand and love their people.
“A woman must share her husband’s love with his work and the fire of his spirit, or make him a thing not loveable”
This is said to Erendis by her mother, before she is married to Aldarion. Early in the story, our sympathy lies with Erendis, as does the sympathy of the other characters. Aldarion is selfish, non-committal and unaware of the plight of others around him. But as the story moves on, our sympathy (and that of the other characters in the tale) shift to Aldarion.
Because, ultimately, this short quote marks out where the story will go.
Though a king and a husband must learn his people, come to understand them and through that learn the wisdom he needs for dominion. A wife and queen must realise that she is joining him in his mission. She is, after all, his helper, not the other way around.
Erendis is unable to do this with Aldarion. He wants to order things and build things, he wants to explore and tame new lands., he has a vision for the future, and longs to lay the foundation for it.
To be sure, his vision is often selfish and vainglorious. He fails to learn what he should have learnt from her: a love of the things in his realm for their own sake rather than for their bare utility. Nevertheless, for all that she loves things for their own sake, she can never quite come to love men for their own sake. Over time, her frustration at her husband’s manly vision and drive turns to bitterness and malice towards her husband, and also towards all men and their tendency to “play” with things.
In the end, just as her mother warned, she turns Aldarion into something that she cannot love. Or rather, she turns him into something that she refuses to love. Her bitterness breeds a twisted love of her daughter (whom she raises in isolation from all men), spreading the ruin to a second generation.
This picture of bitterness throughout the later reaches of the story is so poignantly described that you really should read it for yourself. Here’s a taste:
[upon Aldarion’s return ‘home’ after an over-long voyage] “You will be weary, my Lord, after such haste. A guest-room is made ready for you, when you will. My women will wait on you. If you are cold, call for fire.”
Never can a welcome have been colder, and more dripping with poisonous sarcasm or deftly chosen malice.
“’To long and often of late is my bed cold.’ ‘Often of late I have thought that you preferred it so,’”
I have not much to say on this, other than to note the necessity of a warm bed in marriage, and to caution against the coldness that can come from both directions.
“I am in too great doubt to rule. To prepare or to let be? To prepare for war, which is yet only guessed: train craftsmen and tillers in the midst of peace for bloodspilling and battle: put iron in the hands of greedy captains who will love only conquest, and count the slain as their glory? Will they say to Eru: "At least your enemies were amongst them?" Or to fold hands, while friends die unjustly: let men live in blind peace, until the ravisher is at the gate? What then will they do: match naked hands against iron and die in vain, or flee leaving the cries of women behind them? Will they say to Eru: "At least I spilled no blood?"
Though the marriage of Aldarion and Erendis is the main focal point of the story, there is a subplot of the growing shadow in middle-earth. This, after-all, takes place in the long but vigilant peace of the second-age, after the defeat of Melkor, and the men of Numenor are set to play a large part in the long awaited unravelling of that peace.
We have been living in an age where many (even church leaders) have been saying ‘peace, peace’ where there is no peace. Against this backdrop, many men my age are relearning the necessity, and honour, of war against evil. This is good, and I am glad to see it, after all, the Christian faith is martial in many respects. Wisdom is never cowardice, and cowardice is never wise.
Nevertheless, real wisdom in warfare is still needed, and rulers (at every level) need to be alert on multiple fronts.
They must be aware of the temptations they stir-up if they open the war chest and hand-out the swords. There are some in the ranks who simply want to fight and conquer and sin as they do so. They will justify it with ‘hey, at least some of the slain were bad guys’. This is obviously a grievous evil.
The ruler also needs to be aware of the temptation to fold his hands out of fear of getting it wrong. If he does that, can he really look at the carnage and shame of lost women and children and say “Well, at least I didn’t kill anyone”. This would also be a grievous evil.
Ruling in war and ruling in peace requires wisdom, and those who scoff at the humility required to get wisdom will not rule well.
There’s much more in this tragic story, and I again urge you to read it for yourself. It’s easy to talk in the abstract about masculinity, femininity, the way that feminism ruins things, and the responsibility of men over their households. In amidst much of the talk we need stories that flesh out our imagination of these things; both in how they go right, and how they go wrong. Given how things are in the world as it is today, there aren’t many literary guides I would trust, but in the story of Aldarion and Erendis, Tolkien once again proves himself up to the task.