Aldarion and Erendis: Driftwood from the Ancient World

Who knows the age of the salt-scrubbed branches, worn shells, and smoothed bits of glass we pass by as we stroll along a seashore? By the time Frodo Baggins is setting out on his quest, J.R.R. Tolkien's "Aldarion and Erendis: The Mariner's Wife" has been drifting the waves of time for more than 5000 years. It has an unmistakable quality of antiquity, which makes its sharp edges all the more surprising.

The tragedy at the eye of this stormy epic is the colossal failure of a man and a woman to communicate and compromise. 70 frustrating years transpire between the couple's first meeting and their doomed marriage. She - a lover of the spectacular trees of the island of Númenor, and he - seemingly enthralled by the sea-longing - have no common ground on which to build a lasting home. Multiple readers have compared this story to Jane Austen's novels for its skilled observation of human emotions amid courtship, and both pride and prejudice make the mutual attraction and initial good intentions of each partner grow cold. Readers are denied the happy ending that both Austen and Tolkien generally ascribe to, and the unfinished state of the latter's story hints at multi-generational disaster resultant from the couple's disunion.

The Lost Beauty of Númenor

Despite the woe readers feel in witnessing selfishness and dishonesty sundering the unhappy pair, this tale is a treasure. Its description of the beauty of Númenor brings the Second Age of Men to life with the skill of a master painter. I have done my best with this new painting to capture as much of the story as I could in a single scene. Here, you see the house at Armenelos with the fabulous elven wedding-gift tree planted in its courtyard. Tolkien's description of this tree reminds me most of one of my own favorites: Populus alba, though with a white trunk. In its branches perch the splendid grey elven-birds, whom I took such pleasure in designing. Beyond the courtyard, we see some of the other trees Erendis adored, including the laburnum-like, yellow-flowered Laurinquë. A little red kirinki bird perches near the fountain, and Mediterranean flora beautifies the setting.

There is an empty chair beneath Ancalimë, the elven-tree, because, as is his wont, Prince Aldarion has vacated both his love and his duty. Cloaked like a wave, he passes through the portal in the direction of the gulls.

Erendis sits alone, her face a mixture of sadness, will, reflection, and uncertainty. Aldarion's white gem shines in the silver fillet on her brow, and in her hand is the contentious bay laurel-like branch of Oiolairë. In the years of her love, Erendis is gracious enough to lay this branch in token of a safe return on the bows of Aldarion's sailing vessels, before her patience with his obsessive voyaging comes to an end.

For a remarkable discussion of this extremely complex tale, I highly recommend listening to the Alan Sisto and Dr. Sara Brown's episodes of the Prancing Pony Podcast which do it full justice. It is not a cheerful account, but its roots in the Inklings' interest in writing on the theme of Atlantis, coupled with its spectacular prose, make it a must-read. Just the passages covering Gil-galad's eloquent plea for aid are enough reason to spend time with this story, and its illumination of Númenorean history will vastly enrich your understanding of Aragorn's lineage.

Portals to the Past

Perhaps most of all, the thing I have come to prize about "Aldarion and Erendis" is its sense of ancientry. I have often looked at the evocative portraits of lost Pompeii, the lovely murals of Roman villas, and the brilliant dolphin frescoes from the Palace of Knossos in Crete, wishing I knew the names of all the people connected to them. They lived real and full lives, filled with feelings, failures, and triumphs. Somehow, Tolkien's tale of the Mariner's Wife seems to me to carry a sea breeze of their spirits.

Please enjoy a moment in the beautiful courtyard of the house at Armenelos, and think with empathy of peoples of the past who have faced the many trials of life but are now at peace: