Re-reading the Lord of the Rings, Chapter 13

I left my remarks on the last chapter a little puzzled over the psychology of Elves. There isn't necessarily a reason to assume that they face a different kind of task in their lives than men do, but being in possession of so many things men crave for, it makes you wonder about the balance of their remaining cravings.

Tolkien clears this up some in this chapter. Elves are proud of their works, and they're involved quite a bit in activities aimed at remembering what has happened in their lives before.

They were already rude to a Hobbit once, and they're again at the verge of being it. But they're not interested in Bilbo's attempts to immortalise himself, because to them all works are clothes that they wear, what counts is the pleasant feel of it, tailored to a life of unlimited time.

Elves need to idle themselves, and there's necessarily a strong streak of indulgence in flavours in their character, as a result of which they seem to give of a flavour themselves.

His hair was dark as the shadows of twilight.

Reverence is probably a flavour for them as well, but they don't like the sort of reverence that exploits itself, like Bilbo is exploiting his for inspiration, for that comes to naught in their sight, they seek the reverence that seeks the fairness of their being, and occasionally they renounce their immortality for it.

Echoes of Schopenhauer's views on the lack of women's appreciation of the arts, but we cannot take this too far, for firstly there are male Elves and secondly the Elves have a larger role to play in Tolkien's world.

They are stores of intellectual wealth, who finally realise that their place is in Valinor, for Middle-earth is given to more radical works than theirs in man's pursuit of his share of glory. It's difficult to speak about Elvendom without touching upon Theodore Kaczynski.

In terms of the fullness I was speaking about yesterday, it would appear that Elves don't quite know it nor its opposite, they have to resign themselves to their lot as well, and if they don't, they're open to the venom of the Enemy, but their peace of mind has not to be gained, Elves live in a kind of mist, when it comes to final questions, and they can afford it, because they may never meet their end.

Tom Bombadil on the other hand knows the answers and sees that they are good.

Gandalf makes a remark about having seen Valinor as being sufficient for an Elf to be safe.

They do not fear the Ringwraiths, for those who have dwelt in the Blessed Realm live at once in both worlds, and against both the Seen and the Unseen they have great power.

It's no absolute, as the fate of Fëanor, for instance, shows. But the Ringwraiths might well be a number too small for them, for the mere knowledge of what's right is already a great force for the good. Why would an Elf stoop to crookedness, if the straight ways are known to him?