Tumblr crosspost (18 November 2016)
Mar. 4th, 2024 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anghrainevardasvapors on Tumblr asked:
WAIT I FIGURED ONE OUT. One of your Tindomiel posts inspired me: do you have ideas about Elros's wife? (Imo one of the most wtf occurrences of unnamed women.) As a person, founding queen, wife, mother, sister-in-law, or whatever, any of the facets.
I replied:
I agree! It is definitely one of the most ????? omissions, and when it comes to Númenórean women, that’s saying a lot.
Rambling a bit:
I generally prefer to wiggle around canon rather than rejecting the unpleasant aspects of it, so I start with the fact that her absence is baffling. What might have kept her out of the historical record? Even a partial, male-dominated historical record?
Well, one possibility is that she had a normal lifespan, which in the historical view would make her… kind of a blip in Elros’ half a millennium of life. If so, Elros almost certainly married her well after establishing Númenor (SA 32), since their firstborn child was born twenty-nine years later (SA 61). In fact, it’s very possible that she herself was born on Númenor (though in that case, she could have a longer lifespan).
I also tend to assume she wasn’t that politically prominent (more Laura than Hillary, say—not that a US First Lady is like a Queen of Númenor, but you get the idea). I don’t just mean in terms of her own conduct, but her family. We do occasionally hear something when the queen’s family is notable: Almarian’s father was captain of the ships, Erendis’ was a descendant of the lords of the house of Bëor, Inzilbêth was the Lord of Andúnië’s niece. So I’m thinking that her own background was not particularly exceptional.
Another detail I find interesting is her four children’s names. One is clearly named after Elros’ family (Tindómiel, the ‘morning star,’ obviously refers to Eärendil). One seems a vaguer reference to the Edain. But the other two, including the firstborn son, are named for the Valar. Considering that one or both of the other children are connected to Elros, I kind of like the idea that she was the one behind Vardamir and Manwendil. So I’m envisioning her as an intense devotee of the Valar, particularly Elbereth (it is the firstborn named for Elbereth, the third for Manwë).
Also for consideration: her eldest, Vardamir, was a dedicated scholar with zero interest in politics. He took the name Nolimon, something like ‘loremaster.’ That doesn’t necessarily reflect on his mother, but it’s something to consider, particularly given her apparent obscurity.
So: I tend to envision her as a bookish type like her son, and also like him, largely disinterested in public life. Originally, she could be a wise-woman à la Adanel—odds are that she’s also Hadorian. She’s a dedicated scholar and profoundly devout in her veneration of the Valar, particularly Elbereth.
WAIT I FIGURED ONE OUT. One of your Tindomiel posts inspired me: do you have ideas about Elros's wife? (Imo one of the most wtf occurrences of unnamed women.) As a person, founding queen, wife, mother, sister-in-law, or whatever, any of the facets.
I replied:
I agree! It is definitely one of the most ????? omissions, and when it comes to Númenórean women, that’s saying a lot.
Rambling a bit:
I generally prefer to wiggle around canon rather than rejecting the unpleasant aspects of it, so I start with the fact that her absence is baffling. What might have kept her out of the historical record? Even a partial, male-dominated historical record?
Well, one possibility is that she had a normal lifespan, which in the historical view would make her… kind of a blip in Elros’ half a millennium of life. If so, Elros almost certainly married her well after establishing Númenor (SA 32), since their firstborn child was born twenty-nine years later (SA 61). In fact, it’s very possible that she herself was born on Númenor (though in that case, she could have a longer lifespan).
I also tend to assume she wasn’t that politically prominent (more Laura than Hillary, say—not that a US First Lady is like a Queen of Númenor, but you get the idea). I don’t just mean in terms of her own conduct, but her family. We do occasionally hear something when the queen’s family is notable: Almarian’s father was captain of the ships, Erendis’ was a descendant of the lords of the house of Bëor, Inzilbêth was the Lord of Andúnië’s niece. So I’m thinking that her own background was not particularly exceptional.
Another detail I find interesting is her four children’s names. One is clearly named after Elros’ family (Tindómiel, the ‘morning star,’ obviously refers to Eärendil). One seems a vaguer reference to the Edain. But the other two, including the firstborn son, are named for the Valar. Considering that one or both of the other children are connected to Elros, I kind of like the idea that she was the one behind Vardamir and Manwendil. So I’m envisioning her as an intense devotee of the Valar, particularly Elbereth (it is the firstborn named for Elbereth, the third for Manwë).
Also for consideration: her eldest, Vardamir, was a dedicated scholar with zero interest in politics. He took the name Nolimon, something like ‘loremaster.’ That doesn’t necessarily reflect on his mother, but it’s something to consider, particularly given her apparent obscurity.
So: I tend to envision her as a bookish type like her son, and also like him, largely disinterested in public life. Originally, she could be a wise-woman à la Adanel—odds are that she’s also Hadorian. She’s a dedicated scholar and profoundly devout in her veneration of the Valar, particularly Elbereth.
She would have been born shortly before the founding of Númenor, maybe four or five years. She wouldn’t remember the War of Wrath, although the people around her would. She grows up hearing stories of the war, and of before the war; in the decades after, I imagine there’d still be a lot of mingling between Men and Elves as they rebuild, so she’d get all sorts of stories, and different takes on the same stories. She’s fascinated by them, and vaguely horrified that comparatively few have been written down. (Did she meet Pengolodh? MAYBE! HISTORY BROS)
I don’t think she’s particularly partisan as far as Elves vs Men goes—not an Andreth, say, though she greatly admires her. But she is definitely very much influenced by the Elves, esp the Eldar, in terms of spirituality. And I think there’d be a lot of anxiety among Edain scholars about preserving their history and identities as the world literally falls apart and as cultural distinctions have weakened. Traditionally they’ve been closest to and most influenced by the Noldor, aka Angry Elf Academics, whose great scholarly achievement was specifically writing. So I can see a shift from relying on oral storytelling from one generation to the next, to trying to preserve their traditions and history in a fairly permanent form.
(Possibly backed up by Tolkien’s literary conceit that the various ‘historical’ documents were preserved by Dúnedain; in particular the library of a vulnerable and decayed Gondor seems to have had no equal. Plainly, written record-keeping became deeply embedded in Númenórean culture.)
So, anyway, I imagine her as part of a generation of scholars working to get that shit written down. Their ultimate aspiration: creating an archive of all the accumulated knowledge of the Edain and the Eldar. The more realistic one is to record the War of Wrath and the most pivotal events in living memory. Our heroine is a relatively late arrival in Númenor, more interested in stumping around Middle-earth taking notes from everyone than building something new. On the voyage there, I’m sure she determinedly picks Círdan’s brain (once she works herself up to talking to him). And I suspect he would respect her dogged dedication to her work and obvious appreciation for the Elves’ history and ways as much as her own people’s (and for Sindarin as much as Noldorin).
She’s already been in contact with scholars in Númenor. Once she arrives, she immediately joins up with the society of archivists in Armenelos, just in time to contribute her past and future work to their ambitious new project. The King has granted permission (and funding) to establish a great library. That gives the archivists the green-light to start the immense task of converting their vast collection of notes into preserved texts, while others continue working with sources in Númenor and in Middle-earth.
I imagine she’s a bit awkward and SUPER INTENSE—not someone her colleagues feel any need to drink mead with, and I don’t think she has much family of her own. (I’m thinking her parents died young and she was raised by a group of wise-woman “aunts.”) But the other archivists have an enormous respect for her as a colleague; I think she is pretty content to be married to her work, if lonely. But she doesn’t feel overworked or taken advantage of or whatnot; in her view, her work on the archive is the purpose of her life and she is proud to fulfill it.
Meanwhile, I don’t think Númenor at this time would be near as formalized as it became later on. Elros, at least, isn’t the towering figure he became later on. IMO he wouldn’t even be really thought of as Tar-Minyatur in the early years. I mean, it’s both weird and hilariously prosaic. This is the man who will name his children 1) Jewel of Varda, 2) Star of Morning Twilight, 3) Devoted to Manwë, and 4) Glory of Mankind, and he decides his regnal name is going to be First King. It’s like he was sitting there trying to think up a name and literally nothing occurred to him, so he just went with the first thing that popped into his head. (Also, I think it’d be weightier when there are actually other kings to distinguish him from.)
Anyway, I think he’s considered the rightful lord of the Edain via Tuor and Beren, and personally liked and respected by his people. And even by the founding of Númenor, he’s been around for a long time—long enough that plenty of people can’t remember a time when he wasn’t leading them (if we’re going with US parallels again, a bit like FDR squared). So I’m thinking there is a lot of respect, occasional awe, but also a stronger sense of familiarity. Elros showing up in your shop would be less LO THE KING HAS GRACED US WITH HIS PRESENCE!!!!!! and more “is that Elros? awesome.”
So it’s not that big of a deal when Elros shows up to see how the library is progressing—the archivists are nervous and excited, but not overwhelmed. And he tries to put them at their ease, let people go back to their work. And either on that visit or later ones, he notices … umm, I should probably call her something. Provisionally, Ithíriel. I don’t imagine anything overpowering—he’s vaguely impressed with her earnestness and intensity and the evident respect of her colleagues for a young woman.
Each time he checks up on the library, though, he’s more struck by her, and asks some questions. It doesn’t raise many suspicions on Ithíriel’s side; however comfortable they might have become around a supportive and enthusiastic patron who will be around forever, he’s still The King. And, like, over a hundred years old. (Though it’s harder to think of him that way after she sees him, and he looks so youngand incredibly attractive. Intellectually she knows why, but…)
Also, she so profoundly identifies herself with her work that she simply assumes any question about her must really be a question about the archive. She’s quite happy to explain what she’s doing, however, so she rambles on about how she primarily works with Gondolin because she’s equally fluent in Sindarin and Quenya. And when Elros makes a silly joke in Quenya, she laughs at him, and then is O_O. But soon she’s accustomed to his increasingly frequent visits, and looks forward to them more than his patronage can really account for, but what other reason could there possibly be??? The other archivists figure it out pretty quickly and are surprised but deeply amused.
I don’t think the class issues are particularly pressing here. For one, at this stage, there’s some flux, and for another, there is a ton of anxiety about Elros’ continued bachelorhood at 100+ years old. Nobody knows exactly how long he’s going to live, probably much longer, but WHO KNOWS. HE COULD DIE WHENEVER. So at this point, it’s going to be a relief if he marries any woman at all.
But when Elros finally ~declares himself~, Ithíriel doesn’t see it that way. She’s completely shocked, and also just bewildered. Her world is the library. The idea of being Queen of Númenor, even early Númenor, is just ludicrous. It’s hard to believe that Elros could be in love with her, though there’s plainly no other reason he’d want to marry her, and she isn’t at all sure what she feels.
She stammers something incomprehensible out, and he assures her that he doesn’t need—or want—a response right away, he just meant to make his position clear. She can have as much time as she needs. And he can’t help smiling a little as he says that he has all the time in the world.
So he pretty openly courts her, while Ithíriel keeps trying to grasp the whole thing. Elros is the closest thing to a friend that she has, and she’s afraid of losing that, but somehow they only become better friends over that year. And king though he is, he doesn’t seem to expect her attention whenever he’s present, and will cheerfully sit around while she works. But he seems genuinely interested in both her work and the library in general, and always has questions—and answers, sometimes.
At first, he’s leery of talking about his memories, even those which aren’t painful, not wanting to remind her of the gulf between them. But when something slips out (my father told me that in Gondolin…), she’s thrilled, and so he becomes less guarded. And somewhere along the way, his memories become less PRIMARY SOURCE!!!! to her than the confidences of a living human being. She’ll ask him questions for his own sake and not just the archive’s, ask questions that she’d never put in the archive. Once he jokes that she’ll tire of him when she’s exhausted his memory and lore. Ithíriel is horrified until he laughs, and she finds herself smiling. He dares to say, Someday you must meet my brother. You would like each other.
Earlier, she would have protested, or shaken her head, or withdrawn into uncertainty. But now, she just lets it pass.
Her nearest colleagues can’t help teasing her, partly because they’re sort of charmed and partly because they’re nearly as confused as she is. The scholar she answers to is not at all the teasing sort, but he gravely accepts her work and after hrrrming to himself, says that he appreciates her continued discipline and rigor under the *waves vaguely* circumstances. And later, he says good, very good—it will be a pity to lose you—
She wants to say she’s not going anywhere, she’d never leave the archive, this is her life. But in that moment, she knows it’s not true.
When Elros asks her for her answer, they both know what it’s going to be.
She expects some opposition, some expectation of greater ancestry, but there is very little of that. By this point, the court is too relieved that he’s marrying anyone—and it helps that she’s a quiet, polite anyone. It’s clear to her that, on the upside, there’s no real opposition, but on the downside, it has nothing to do with her own capabilities. It’s as if Elros is the only person in the palace who even sees her. She feels somewhat isolated, disconnected from everything but Elros, until Elrond arrives. Elros proudly shows him the library, and he’s very impressed—and immensely kind to Ithíriel, whom he rightly sees as at once adrift and something of a kindred spirit. His detailed inquiries and restrained but evident respect and approval go a lot further with her than the ecstatic celebrations of the wedding itself.
In fact, she finds the whole furor around it all a bit baffling and hysterical, though she tries to be gracious. She feels profoundly reverential at their brief declaration before the Valar and the One, and very little at all during all the other pomp. It’s rather a relief for her when that first burst of public excitement passes.
She guessed that Elros has some surprise planned, and that the other scholars know about it. She was imagining some rare and precious volume as a wedding present—and while there are some (care of Elrond!), it turns out there’s something rather bigger in mind. A few weeks after the wedding, Elros officially places the library under patronage of the Queen, and puts the funds for the library and for scholarship in general entirely in her hands.
As queen, Ithíriel oversees the development of the library, in close cooperation with her colleagues; establishes a formal academy in Armenelos; develops standard curricula in the capital and later throughout Númenor; writes commentaries and treatises that serve as valuable sources in later years. It’s not flashy, but it’s important, and it takes years. In the meanwhile, she bears four children—until her marriage, not something she ever expected for herself.
She loves all her children, but Vardamir, the first, is her darling, the great treasure of her life—a blessing from Elbereth, she always feels. Where Tindómiel adores and is beloved of her uncle Elrond (often in residence for years on end), and the younger boys idolize Elros, Vardamir hero-worships his mother. She often takes him with her on her various errands and causes, even on occasional voyages to Lindon, where he is warmly welcomed. But his fondest memories are of sitting quietly together in her study, his head on her shoulder while they read together.
As far as public life goes, she’s very unobtrusive. She’s only remembered (when at all) as Istíriel, Tar-Minyatur’s beloved queen, decades his junior and dead of old age before half his life had passed. But among Númenórean academics, she looms very large, even as they become increasingly male-dominated in later centuries. She’s listed as founder or inspiration for nearly all their most beloved institutions. And it’s rare to find a library or university without some commemoration of the loremaster Ithíriel, whose husband was a king.
Tagged: #i had no clear ideas before i started this and now i am super invested in her wtf
I don’t think she’s particularly partisan as far as Elves vs Men goes—not an Andreth, say, though she greatly admires her. But she is definitely very much influenced by the Elves, esp the Eldar, in terms of spirituality. And I think there’d be a lot of anxiety among Edain scholars about preserving their history and identities as the world literally falls apart and as cultural distinctions have weakened. Traditionally they’ve been closest to and most influenced by the Noldor, aka Angry Elf Academics, whose great scholarly achievement was specifically writing. So I can see a shift from relying on oral storytelling from one generation to the next, to trying to preserve their traditions and history in a fairly permanent form.
(Possibly backed up by Tolkien’s literary conceit that the various ‘historical’ documents were preserved by Dúnedain; in particular the library of a vulnerable and decayed Gondor seems to have had no equal. Plainly, written record-keeping became deeply embedded in Númenórean culture.)
So, anyway, I imagine her as part of a generation of scholars working to get that shit written down. Their ultimate aspiration: creating an archive of all the accumulated knowledge of the Edain and the Eldar. The more realistic one is to record the War of Wrath and the most pivotal events in living memory. Our heroine is a relatively late arrival in Númenor, more interested in stumping around Middle-earth taking notes from everyone than building something new. On the voyage there, I’m sure she determinedly picks Círdan’s brain (once she works herself up to talking to him). And I suspect he would respect her dogged dedication to her work and obvious appreciation for the Elves’ history and ways as much as her own people’s (and for Sindarin as much as Noldorin).
She’s already been in contact with scholars in Númenor. Once she arrives, she immediately joins up with the society of archivists in Armenelos, just in time to contribute her past and future work to their ambitious new project. The King has granted permission (and funding) to establish a great library. That gives the archivists the green-light to start the immense task of converting their vast collection of notes into preserved texts, while others continue working with sources in Númenor and in Middle-earth.
I imagine she’s a bit awkward and SUPER INTENSE—not someone her colleagues feel any need to drink mead with, and I don’t think she has much family of her own. (I’m thinking her parents died young and she was raised by a group of wise-woman “aunts.”) But the other archivists have an enormous respect for her as a colleague; I think she is pretty content to be married to her work, if lonely. But she doesn’t feel overworked or taken advantage of or whatnot; in her view, her work on the archive is the purpose of her life and she is proud to fulfill it.
Meanwhile, I don’t think Númenor at this time would be near as formalized as it became later on. Elros, at least, isn’t the towering figure he became later on. IMO he wouldn’t even be really thought of as Tar-Minyatur in the early years. I mean, it’s both weird and hilariously prosaic. This is the man who will name his children 1) Jewel of Varda, 2) Star of Morning Twilight, 3) Devoted to Manwë, and 4) Glory of Mankind, and he decides his regnal name is going to be First King. It’s like he was sitting there trying to think up a name and literally nothing occurred to him, so he just went with the first thing that popped into his head. (Also, I think it’d be weightier when there are actually other kings to distinguish him from.)
Anyway, I think he’s considered the rightful lord of the Edain via Tuor and Beren, and personally liked and respected by his people. And even by the founding of Númenor, he’s been around for a long time—long enough that plenty of people can’t remember a time when he wasn’t leading them (if we’re going with US parallels again, a bit like FDR squared). So I’m thinking there is a lot of respect, occasional awe, but also a stronger sense of familiarity. Elros showing up in your shop would be less LO THE KING HAS GRACED US WITH HIS PRESENCE!!!!!! and more “is that Elros? awesome.”
So it’s not that big of a deal when Elros shows up to see how the library is progressing—the archivists are nervous and excited, but not overwhelmed. And he tries to put them at their ease, let people go back to their work. And either on that visit or later ones, he notices … umm, I should probably call her something. Provisionally, Ithíriel. I don’t imagine anything overpowering—he’s vaguely impressed with her earnestness and intensity and the evident respect of her colleagues for a young woman.
Each time he checks up on the library, though, he’s more struck by her, and asks some questions. It doesn’t raise many suspicions on Ithíriel’s side; however comfortable they might have become around a supportive and enthusiastic patron who will be around forever, he’s still The King. And, like, over a hundred years old. (Though it’s harder to think of him that way after she sees him, and he looks so young
Also, she so profoundly identifies herself with her work that she simply assumes any question about her must really be a question about the archive. She’s quite happy to explain what she’s doing, however, so she rambles on about how she primarily works with Gondolin because she’s equally fluent in Sindarin and Quenya. And when Elros makes a silly joke in Quenya, she laughs at him, and then is O_O. But soon she’s accustomed to his increasingly frequent visits, and looks forward to them more than his patronage can really account for, but what other reason could there possibly be??? The other archivists figure it out pretty quickly and are surprised but deeply amused.
I don’t think the class issues are particularly pressing here. For one, at this stage, there’s some flux, and for another, there is a ton of anxiety about Elros’ continued bachelorhood at 100+ years old. Nobody knows exactly how long he’s going to live, probably much longer, but WHO KNOWS. HE COULD DIE WHENEVER. So at this point, it’s going to be a relief if he marries any woman at all.
But when Elros finally ~declares himself~, Ithíriel doesn’t see it that way. She’s completely shocked, and also just bewildered. Her world is the library. The idea of being Queen of Númenor, even early Númenor, is just ludicrous. It’s hard to believe that Elros could be in love with her, though there’s plainly no other reason he’d want to marry her, and she isn’t at all sure what she feels.
She stammers something incomprehensible out, and he assures her that he doesn’t need—or want—a response right away, he just meant to make his position clear. She can have as much time as she needs. And he can’t help smiling a little as he says that he has all the time in the world.
So he pretty openly courts her, while Ithíriel keeps trying to grasp the whole thing. Elros is the closest thing to a friend that she has, and she’s afraid of losing that, but somehow they only become better friends over that year. And king though he is, he doesn’t seem to expect her attention whenever he’s present, and will cheerfully sit around while she works. But he seems genuinely interested in both her work and the library in general, and always has questions—and answers, sometimes.
At first, he’s leery of talking about his memories, even those which aren’t painful, not wanting to remind her of the gulf between them. But when something slips out (my father told me that in Gondolin…), she’s thrilled, and so he becomes less guarded. And somewhere along the way, his memories become less PRIMARY SOURCE!!!! to her than the confidences of a living human being. She’ll ask him questions for his own sake and not just the archive’s, ask questions that she’d never put in the archive. Once he jokes that she’ll tire of him when she’s exhausted his memory and lore. Ithíriel is horrified until he laughs, and she finds herself smiling. He dares to say, Someday you must meet my brother. You would like each other.
Earlier, she would have protested, or shaken her head, or withdrawn into uncertainty. But now, she just lets it pass.
Her nearest colleagues can’t help teasing her, partly because they’re sort of charmed and partly because they’re nearly as confused as she is. The scholar she answers to is not at all the teasing sort, but he gravely accepts her work and after hrrrming to himself, says that he appreciates her continued discipline and rigor under the *waves vaguely* circumstances. And later, he says good, very good—it will be a pity to lose you—
She wants to say she’s not going anywhere, she’d never leave the archive, this is her life. But in that moment, she knows it’s not true.
When Elros asks her for her answer, they both know what it’s going to be.
She expects some opposition, some expectation of greater ancestry, but there is very little of that. By this point, the court is too relieved that he’s marrying anyone—and it helps that she’s a quiet, polite anyone. It’s clear to her that, on the upside, there’s no real opposition, but on the downside, it has nothing to do with her own capabilities. It’s as if Elros is the only person in the palace who even sees her. She feels somewhat isolated, disconnected from everything but Elros, until Elrond arrives. Elros proudly shows him the library, and he’s very impressed—and immensely kind to Ithíriel, whom he rightly sees as at once adrift and something of a kindred spirit. His detailed inquiries and restrained but evident respect and approval go a lot further with her than the ecstatic celebrations of the wedding itself.
In fact, she finds the whole furor around it all a bit baffling and hysterical, though she tries to be gracious. She feels profoundly reverential at their brief declaration before the Valar and the One, and very little at all during all the other pomp. It’s rather a relief for her when that first burst of public excitement passes.
She guessed that Elros has some surprise planned, and that the other scholars know about it. She was imagining some rare and precious volume as a wedding present—and while there are some (care of Elrond!), it turns out there’s something rather bigger in mind. A few weeks after the wedding, Elros officially places the library under patronage of the Queen, and puts the funds for the library and for scholarship in general entirely in her hands.
As queen, Ithíriel oversees the development of the library, in close cooperation with her colleagues; establishes a formal academy in Armenelos; develops standard curricula in the capital and later throughout Númenor; writes commentaries and treatises that serve as valuable sources in later years. It’s not flashy, but it’s important, and it takes years. In the meanwhile, she bears four children—until her marriage, not something she ever expected for herself.
She loves all her children, but Vardamir, the first, is her darling, the great treasure of her life—a blessing from Elbereth, she always feels. Where Tindómiel adores and is beloved of her uncle Elrond (often in residence for years on end), and the younger boys idolize Elros, Vardamir hero-worships his mother. She often takes him with her on her various errands and causes, even on occasional voyages to Lindon, where he is warmly welcomed. But his fondest memories are of sitting quietly together in her study, his head on her shoulder while they read together.
As far as public life goes, she’s very unobtrusive. She’s only remembered (when at all) as Istíriel, Tar-Minyatur’s beloved queen, decades his junior and dead of old age before half his life had passed. But among Númenórean academics, she looms very large, even as they become increasingly male-dominated in later centuries. She’s listed as founder or inspiration for nearly all their most beloved institutions. And it’s rare to find a library or university without some commemoration of the loremaster Ithíriel, whose husband was a king.
Tagged: #i had no clear ideas before i started this and now i am super invested in her wtf