The Children of Hurin, by J.R.R. Tolkien

05 August 2007

Gerard Wood

J.R.R. Tolkien's The Children of Hurin is a dark and tragic story. A tale of faerie it might be, but this is certainly no fairy tale! Too grim to be enchanting, it does however enthrall with horrific fascination as it draws the reader forcefully to the inevitable, terrible conclusion. So, a warning: if you’re looking for an experience akin to reading The Hobbit, don’t fool yourself: as you read the Children of Hurin you’ll probably only ever crack a smile in appreciation of the prose. There’s not a laugh in it.

Having said that, you’ll be doing yourself a favour if you do seek out this refashioned jewel from Tolkien.

For those who tried reading The Silmarillion but found it impenetrable, this could be the way back into what is universe building at its very best...

The story of the Children of Hurin occurs in the First Age of Middle Earth, some six and a half thousand years before the events recounted in The Lord of the Rings. So remote in the past is Hurin's tale that by the time Frodo sets out on his journey to destroy the One Ring the very land known to Hurin and his children has long been drowned beneath the sea; the ring does not yet exist; and its creator, the Dark Lord Sauron, is just the servant of Morgoth. Morgoth, the first Dark Lord, and mightiest of the godlike Valar, has fallen from grace through pride and arrogance and the desire to bring all life under his sway. A brutal war (depicted by Tolkien without any romantic delusions) is waged between the Elves and Morgoth. Men at this time are new to the world and some, though not all, have aligned themselves with the Elves against Morgoth. The Children of Hurin is the story of one man’s refusal to bend to the Will of Evil and the curse that is visited upon him and his children in consequence. As Christopher Tolkien observes in the introduction to the novel, Morgoth’s curse is unlike the curse of lesser beings; Morgoth does not invoke evil on Hurin and his family for he is Evil incarnate – there is no higher power to call upon:

“Upon all whom you love my thought shall weigh as a Cloud of Doom and it shall bring them down into darkness and despair.”

What hope then for Hurin and his children, Turin and Nienor?

Not much. But some.

The tale focuses primarily on the exploits of Turin, although his fate and that of his sister Nienor are inextricably and tragically entwined in consequence of their wilful, unbending, often heroic, sometimes arrogant and misguided choices, human choices that are twisted and turned against them and all they love under the influence of Morgoth’s Will.

Hurin’s defiance of Morgoth promises the destruction of his family – Morgoth is a god, Hurin just a man – but there is nonetheless a wonderful tension between the seeming inevitability of their destruction and the heroic stature of Turin who we feel (and Morgoth fears) might just rise above the curse.

Grim stuff indeed, though not surprisingingly as the story had its inception in the dark days of World War I – the first so called Great War with its innovative methods for destroying lives en masse. Tolkien experienced the trenches first hand and lost his closest friends to the machinery of war and it’s not surprising that this grimmest of stories took root in his imagination at that time. The story was nonetheless unfinished at the time of his death, although various versions had been published, most fully realised (in print at least) in The Silmarillion. Some time though it is since I read that work it doesn’t seem to me that there is any significant difference between the plot in that version and this latest offering. The difference is that the earlier version is merely a sketch in comparison to this fully realised novel which has been edited from various sources into a seamless whole by Tolkien’s son, Christopher, over the last 30 years.

Mention should also be made of the beautiful and evocative illustrations – paintings and sketches – by Alan Lee, long time illustrator of Tolkien’s work and conceptual artist / consultant on Peter Jackson’s movies of The Lord of the Rings. To be sure, Tolkien’s evocation of landscape is so detailed and compelling that it does not require visual assistance to be realised in our mind’s eye, and so it is tribute to Lee’s artistry that his work is itself a compelling and worthy companion to the text.

In conclusion, the Children of Hurin is highly recommended – it is a truly moving tale, often beautifully written, evoking the harsh beauty of the landscape with the artistry of a great painter and the cruelty of fate with the unflinching eye of a realist. This is fantasy as it should be.

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