#maeglin

They both desire to have more ‘physical’ evidence of their own acceptance in/position of being superior in their own societies.

For Fëanor it’s heirship and recognition of his works, because it has been questioned by his half-siblings existence. Maeglin desires Turgon’s crown and Idril to prove that he is a legitimate Noldor member of his family, which being half-sinda and competing with Idril as the heir has caused this questioning.

Despite their feelings of needing to prove their places within society, they are highly valued and respected members already. Fëanor is respected for his works and noted to have a positive relationship with Aulë. Maeglin was a Lord of his own house, a respected fighter, and had heavy influence on Turgon.

They also prove this to themselves by picking on ‘outsiders’/people deemed lesser (ie: Teleri, Edain, Huor & Hurin, Fëanor’s half-siblings & kin from a contentious marriage, Idril as a half-vanya woman).

They also have a fall from grace, though the main motivations are different. Fëanor’s main one is avenging his father while Maeglin’s seems to be power (but then again, I feel like the situation with Morgoth was a lot more complex than that).

A main difference aside from how much exploration they are given and the time span of their crimes, I’d argue, is their racialized positions and how that affects how they are treated by Tolkien & the Narrative.

(Additionally how being a traitor to your liege lord is viewed vs. other crimes. There’s a really cool post on this but I can’t find it. For the joining Morgoth part, again I think it’s really impacted by their situations. Fëanor has the ability to say no without harm and is inspired by his pride to say no. Maeglin doesn’t)

Fëanor is 100% Noldor, a colonizer that created and led the first mass slaughter against his kin. Despite this, his legacy with characters that are not the SoF is tragic & positive. Fëanor is thought of highly by Gandalf, Aulë is sympathetic to him and his inventions go one to be catalysts for some of the acts that do the most good. You also have Celebrimbor using his symbol on the gates of Moria.

He also gets an ending that reflects the, let’s say, ‘Goodness’ in him. Fëanor dies after fighting Morgoth’s forces and goes out in a blaze the likes of which are never seen again. Those read as signs of a more heroic death and reflect how Fëanor is given mercy by the narrative despite his crimes. It also show the story still looks upon his legacy/actions and sees how he was once Good.

The character of Maeglin and his past falls into a lot of racist tropes (Black/Man of Color ‘stealing away’ and assaulting while woman + probably a trope about betraying the Good White King), and his Sinda father is disparaged by multiple characters on the axis of his race (Curufin and Turgon’s comments ((See this cool post on the racial underpinnings in Of Maeglin)). Maeglin is never spoken of ever again after his death, perhaps because of this; though this might just because he was in Gondolin the hidden city. Maeglin doesn’t get any thing in the narrative similar to Fëanor’s praise of character, aside from Penloth saying that he didn’t sucumbe to torture bc he was brave (? I think—I have no citation here. It’s weird anyways and actually puts him in a more villianious light to say he didn’t join the bad guys bc there was ‘no other way out’. Then again, multiple versions have him betray Gondolin for power alone).

His death, unlike Fëanor’s, is not used to point out the fact that Maeglin used to be Good. Maeglin is thrown off a cliff, just like his father who is already defined as evil within the narrative, after attempting to kill Eärendil. It reflects how his fall has overshadowed who he was before it. Maeglin is not given any narrative mercy; he has become Evil and that is all the story cares about. There is no legacy of him that it thinks about.

Because of all of this I consider them narrative parallels. They are very similar and it’s interesting to view their differences and how the narrative treats them.

Once again I’m not saying we should through either a pity party and try excusing them, or saying that they deserved better (well, for Maeglin I’d just like more on his defeat and reflections of who he used to be by the narrative—Not Tuor or Idril, it would be out of character and not something the victims of his actions should have to do). I’m just pointing out my thoughts.

Where I’m getting my info: Glances at Tolkien Gateway, what I remember from reading The Silmarillion and points from other’s analyses.

There are (at least) two types of bad people in Tolkien's legendarium:

The cosmic, diabolical metaphysical evil of Melkor/Morgoth and Sauron, and then there is...

"moral evil": characters who do possess a conscience, and still perform wicked deeds. These are some of Tolkien's best characters (Maedhros, Túrin, and Boromir, to name a few). The evil done by these characters is tragic in the aftermath because the character is inherently good.

Maeglin falls into the second category, but he is special in that he is the only "human" (elf, you get it) who is allowed to become fully, unapologetically evil, after we meet have already met the version of him that is "good."

Maedhros throws himself into the fire. Túrin falls on his sword. Boromir repents. Just before the end, they all are able to see the awfulness of what they have done, and grieve that awfulness along with the audience. While they are committing their respective atrocities, the moral "true self" remains trapped somewhere inside, temporarily thwarted by oath, curse, desire, magic jewelry... but "deep down" still exists, and eventually awakens, and judges, and despairs.

If Tolkien had written another draft, maybe he would have given Maeglin his moment of regret and repentance. Or, maybe not.

In order for anagnorisis– the "realization"– to occur, there must be a preceding period of blindness.

Maeglin is not blind.

Maeglin in Sindarin means "sharp glance." Eöl so named him: "for he perceived that the eyes of his son were more piercing than his own, and his thought could read the secrets of hearts beyond the mists of words."

As we said before, Maeglin doesn't merely betray Gondolin under the torment and deception; he returns to Gondolin, and there continues colluding with Morgoth until the end of his life.

Furthermore, Maeglin is someone who has agency. For better or worse, he has a great deal of control over his own life. He rebels against Eöl to seek Gondolin. Once there, he gathers the best smiths and miners in Gondolin and proves himself both in craft and in battle– rising to be "mighty among the princes of the Noldor, and greatest save one in the most renowned of their realms." And long before he is ever kidnapped by Morgoth, he begins to desire power.

In short, one imagines that he sees everything– his past wounds, his place in the world, the very monstrousness of his own actions– and he acts even so, with intention, and with perfect precision. There is little doubt left in the reader's mind that he did evil, knowing it was evil.

In a way, that makes him even more evil than Morgoth and Sauron: after all, they never really had a say in whether they wanted be bad or not; discord is their very nature. Maeglin, on the other hand, makes a conscious decision to become bad and continue being bad.

Kierkegaard described angst as the "dizziness of freedom"– the feeling of realizing that we are blessed, or doomed, with total control over our own actions. That who we are is what we choose to do, and keep on doing, in every moment.

And so the will to freedom and self-determination that initially serves Maeglin well, and which makes us root for him early on as he escapes his father's dominion, is precisely the same force that ultimately leads him straight into his villainy. It is the natural consequence of an indomitable will desiring something it cannot obtain any other way.

Or, at least, the potential for that interpretation is there.

Truthfully, I think the story falls short of either expectation: it feels incomplete either as a redemption/repentance story or as a portrait of lucid damnation.

In reality Maeglin is killed off unceremoniously within the span of a single sentence, having transformed utterly into stock-villain-attempting-to-kidnap-princess-and-child: no soliloquy, no closure, no finale that feels fitting for someone who feels like he was created for the sole purpose of inspiring that final aria to be sung over his final scenes.

Maybe because The Silmarillion, intended more as myth than novel, was not meant to acknowledge evil of that nature.