AU Themes: Toxic Masculinity
We’ve gotten a few questions on the blog & in reviews in relation to Maedhros & profligacy & guilt & *Victorian virtue*, so I (TolkienGirl) wanted to take a few paragraphs to share some of the underlying character work we’ve done regarding this.
One of the themes of our adaptation--based as it is in the midst of questions of cultural identity, colonialism, political power, abuse, paranoia, and family dysfunction, to name a few--is how toxic masculinity corrupts, burdens, and destroys those who perpetuate it as well as those who are oppressed by it.
It should come as no surprise that a strongly Catholic family in the mid-1800s would have fairly conservative sexual morals, but as we know, Maedhros tends to be outwardly compliant and secretly rebellious. He believes non-marital sex is wrong (and yes, a lot of Catholics still think this, so I will not be taking historical accuracy pointers at this time), yet he also has a lottt of notches in the belt or bedpost or whatever.
Part of this phenomenon, if so it can be called, is that our Maedhros wants comfort but doesn’t feel entitled to it. Since childhood, he is used to navigating complex interactions with his authority figures (particularly Feanor) in a way that makes him feel that “safety” is more of an action than a state of being. In other words, he constantly has to act in the role of protector, watchdog, troubleshooter. He doesn’t get to relax.
However, he’s naturally affectionate and loves physical touch. Combined with his severe abandonment issues, and desire to please, it isn’t surprising that he quickly acclimated to a more *free love* lifestyle--but of course, Maedhros isn’t Maedhros without guilt.
The real support and affection he wants and is lacking, is from his family. He has felt himself to be both victim and aggressor all his life, because he was trained as a young child to view himself as Feanor’s second in command--by physically and emotionally abusive means. Accordingly, Maedhros is unusually aware for a young man of the time of just how much of a threat he could be to vulnerable women. He empathizes with the status of women who have limited options, crushing expectations, and an omnipresent threat of being brutalized--he has experienced all of those tribulations due to his unique upbringing and early encounter with Morgoth. Because he empathizes with them, he is keenly conscious of his own masculinity. Therefore, he chooses to always present himself in a semi-submissive role in romantic encounters--and most other encounters, unless he is carrying out his Feanorian duties or trying to achieve family harmony, in which case he is more comfortable being proactive/assertive.
Maedhros expects to be used by other people, and yet is constantly horrified at the prospect of using people himself. He knows too well that, if Feanor commands it, he will use anyone, even his most beloved friends/cousins. As such, when it comes to situations that are his private business, he overcompensates by trying to diminish his own agency and his own boundaries as much as possible.
As with many features of Maedhros’ tragically charismatic personality, this internal struggle and unusual approach to presenting as a male in a male-dominated society, leads to a great deal of mockery and objectification by his enemies, as well as suspicion and uncertainty among those who first encounter him. It’s why Gothmog is not convinced by his seeming meekness: Gothmog can certainly perceive it, and mocks him for it, but Gothmog confirms what Maedhros has often feared. That is, Maedhros can never fully extinguish his own spirit and instincts. He has tried, in a profoundly disordered manner, to make himself *utterly non-threatening* as a penance for the times he has committed acts of violence or manipulation. But what he should see in himself is a capacity--independent of Feanor’s influence and others’ later abuse--to lead by example, to define his own principles, and to respect himself. Maybe someday, right?
I hope this clarifies a little why Maedhros is always so remorseful for his various escapades, why he is seemingly incapable of distinguishing between consensual and nonconsensual encounters, and why he is objectified in a quasi-misogynistic manner by so many of the villains, whereas other similarly situated characters (e.g., Gwindor) don’t blur the lines between masculine and feminine moral expectations or social rights.
