A Message of Hope: Aurë entuluva
For absolutely no particular reason, I felt compelled today,- November 6th of 2024, to write about hope.
There are days when Hope feels foolish; when you have just watched in horror as things that once seemed sturdy and unbreakable, crumble and burn. Whether it is an elvish city or a chosen path, when that happens, Hope feels naive. It feels like that's what lead you here to begin with. It feels like, if you had been more realistic and pessimistic, you wouldn't be so hurt.
For all of the things that Tolkien wrote about, his message of hope was perhaps the most resilient, poignant, and enduring. Few can forget Sam's hopeful message to Frodo:
Yet, today, for many people it may not feel that this is true. I know I often struggle with hope, but today does feel exceptionally difficult (for no particular reason, of course).
Tolkien's most hopeful message, for me, comes from his bleakest story. Húrin's story is one of defeat. Courage sprang alive when high King Fingon and the elves and men fought together against the blackness of Morgoth's reign. The Nirnaeth Arnoediad, or Unnumbered Tears, was a day when victory was close and Turgon, brother of the king, arrived with a mighty host,
"Then When Fingon heard afar the great trumpet of Turgon, the shadow passed and his heart was uplifted, and he shouted aloud: 'Utúlie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalië ar Atanatarni, utúlie'n aurë! The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!' And all those who heard his great voice echo in the hills answered crying: 'Auta i lómë! The night is passing!' "
They believed that their courage and steadfastness had saved them, that daybreak was soon at hand. Tolkien understood, perhaps better than most, that there was a difference between courage and hope. For courage is what spurs action, brings change, and inspires duty. Courage is what makes the difference when the time has come, just as they continued to fight on against orcish hordes. It was courage that led them into the heart of Angband where the Dark Lord himself sat shaking on his throne. Courage carried them past the gates, but betrayal can cut through courage like a hot-knife through butter. The hill men betrayed the men and elves and the dawning light turned into a simmering dusk.
With the elves slain or fleeing, Húrin, leader of his people fought valiantly to let his people and what was left of his elvish allies escape. Courage did survive the betrayal of the wild men, but only just. And with each swing of his axe he cried out, "Aurë entuluva!" And with each felled enemy, he cried out again, "Aurë entuluva!" Even as his enemies surrounded him, overtook him, and even when taken by the enemy into the dark halls, he cried out for any allies that might hear him, "Aurë entuluva!" It was a promise of hope.
Hope is not what makes us act, it is not what leads us to change: hope is what sustains us, what keeps us going when courage has faded and the dark night envelopes us. Húrin held fast to hope when courage and Valor had failed, when the efforts of good people fell short. I do not know what the future holds, bleak as it may seem, but I keep those words near me with every passing hour and in those moments where I feel as though I have been dragged into a dark lord's dungeon, I say those words:
Courage will be needed when the day arrives, but until then, I will cling to hope.
I wish everyone peace and hope. It is the dearest thing I can wish. And remember, Aurë entuluva!
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