Reader deep thought: With the year it happened was everafter called “Year of Lamentation”, that surely was a mark of the abject horror among wars the Nirnaeth Arnoediad was. Unless one sat it out *cough*Doriath*cough*, everyone who signed up seemed to have died or suffered terrible fates in its aftermath. Even those who betrayed the allies were rewarded with just desserts, served cold and ironically bitter by the deceitful Morgoth. But truly, surviving Nirnaeth Arnoediad was really the raw deal to end all bad deals when you were Húrin.
Reader deep thought: The Elven definition of a jolly good story is far out. This is the tale of Beren and Lúthien, which has been set into the fairest of Elven song: the Lay of Leithian, Release from Bondage. Just as the chapter on her folks’ courting was the shortest, Lúthien’s romance went the other direction; but it’s not the longest, having been edged out by that angsty tale of a guy related to her Man.
Reader deep thought: When even the sons of Fëanor were less inclined to march on Angband than Fingolfin, the time the Noldor were having in Middle-earth must be fantastic. But the bigger wonder was the notion of futilty in their struggle against Morgoth did not cross the Elves’ minds. Nor did the Edain understand the magnitude, longevity of his grudge bearing. Escalation was a horrible thing to behold: Dagor Bragollach, number four in the Beleriand War Collection was more terrible, expansive, and devastating in its reach than the preceding three.
Reader deep thought: What an eventful time! The Noldor sure started their careers as Exiles with a bang, or three. And the Sun and the Moon sprung up in time to bear witness to the stuff of legends. Gothmog debuted, Fëanor passed, the Noldor-lords reunited willy-nilly, Noldor meets Sindar, and Thingol unhappy. But still, the Noldor prospered and there was diaspora, much thanks in part to Maedhros’ mellowing out, Finrod’s loyalty to their friendship, and the even-tempered EQ of Fingolfin. Everything happened. Even LOVE, blooming in Galadriel and Celeborn’s companionship in Menegroth (interestingly, both were Thingol’s kin). And yet, already two Wars of Beleriand before the end of the chapter, in the brief span of time right before the Sun first rose to her 60th anniversary, and the Silmarils were still in Morgoth’s ever scheming hands. Bummer. And what did the Noldor do? Siege Angband of course! Four hundred fifty years. Longevity hath its privileges.