Tolkien - Blog Posts
I was entertaining myself with Google Earth (as you do) and "found" this giant submarine channel southwest of Ireland.
This is the Gollum Channel System in the Porcupine Seabight basin.
The name catched my attention, of course, so I opened the first article about this huge underwater canyon (this one) and look what I found:
They're all there!!! Someone had fun with the the naming of these smaller canyons! This is the best thing in a long time...
Děti Húrinovy on youtube now with English subtitles!
Kdo ví, třeba jsou na čumbliru nějací zapálení tolkienisté, kteří ještě neznají Falešné společenstvo...
Každopádně, mezinárodní propagace - to je úžasné... :)
It's the last couple of days to donate to the Children of Húrin musical!!
I really encourage people to watch the musical and donate.
Watch the musical
Donate to getting an album made
Sorry for my slow response. :)
As you know, we are complete amateurs, so we could hardly be called celebrities (actually there are some of us that would oppose it very strongly), but it's still incredibly nice to know that our music means so much to someone outside Czechia.
I must say we are quite proud of our characterizations, especially of the more complex characters like Thingol or Maedhros - the songs really give us the space to give them the depth with which we would like for them to be perceived with. When these characters have a whole song just for their feelings a views it really gives them justice.
Actually I just found the divided songs from Pád Doriathu on your blog, could you direct me to the others, please? :)
As for děti Děti Húrinovy two of the songs are already out as thank you to our sponsors: Země luku a přilby and Pochyby
There also will be English subtitles for the Voyage of Eärendil as soon as it appears on youtube - one of us is already working on it.
Život a smrt isn't based on another song, or at least not knowingly - the music was composed by Filoména (formerly Bardě), one of the our best composers (the words are actually mine) - it wasn't inspired by anything but you know how music works: almost every theme was already used before so it's not impossible that it reminds you of something else. :)
Hi, I came across your blog recently and I was very surprised that you know our Falešné Společenstvo and that you even seem to be a fan of ours! That's so amazing! I'm very surprised that someone who probably doesn't speak Czech (I am basing this on your bio, sorry if I am wrong) would be so invested in our songs, but as one of the creators I am incredibly flattered! How did you even came across us?
Anyway, we are recording Húrinovy děti right now (but you probably already know that): https://www.donio.cz/album-hurinovy-deti
and there will be new musical this January (if nothing goes wrong): The Voyage of Eärendil
Hi!
I admit this is a bit like a celebrity coming across my nonsense, but yes I am a big fan!
I really enjoy the dedication to the stories, and the characterisations that are presented (especially the characterisation of Maedhros, and of Thingol in Pàd Doriathu, and the relationship of Feanor & Nerdanel in Feanor a jeho synové) and I've found them reasonably ok to understand what is happening so long as you know the story/get google to translate the songs from the sheet music.
I am extremely excited for Húrinovy děti, obviously you've seen that I divided the songs up from the videos so I'm looking forward to hearing them actually recorded (without the inevitable person coughing in the middle of a song....)
And yes I'm excited to see what The Voyage of Earendil covers! I only wish it was remotely possible to see it live, but alas, I live in Australia, so I will be happy with the videos
Also, because it's been nagging at my mind for so long, is "život a smrt" based on a different song? The tune seems familiar to me
The Oath of Fëanor in Fëanor a jeho synové
Tak pravil Maedhros v přísaze, || So spoke Maedhros in the oath, stejně Maglor, jehož každý zná, || As did Maglor, who is known by all, Celegorm, Curufin taktéž, || Celegorm and Curufin as well, dvojčata, Caranthir. || The twins and Caranthir. Kdo přísahu slyšel, zachvěl se, || Whoever heard the oath trembled, zazní slova nezrušitelná, || The irrevocable words rang, lhostejno, co pravda, co lež, || Whether they were right or wrong je nedobytný cíl. || Their goal cannot be reached.
[x]
“There Grímhild dwelt,
guileful in counsel,
grimhearted queen
grey with wisdom,
with lore of leechcraft,
lore of poison,
with chill enchantment
and with changing spells.”
– J.R.R. Tolkien: Völsungakviða en nýja
Not gonna lie, Grímhild sounds cool.
Mix for Haleth and Caranthir. Art belongs to Steamey (http://steamey.deviantart.com/)
Well, the yellow stockings are so exciting, I mean:
Can we just talk for a moment about Thorin wearing ‘yellow stockings’?
Mix for Aredhel and Eöl.
Art belongs to Turner Mohan (http://turnermohan.deviantart.com/)
Once the City of Kings Where the Elven Lord Elros made his home Among the blossoming growth Sweet laughs caught upon the wind The Star of Eärendil brightens the night sky with the fading light of the Two Trees
And the Valar watch us with kind eyes and tender care Tis Númenor where life is untainted and death is unknown,
But Annatar- Lord of Gifts- showed us the altar and decorated it with wynorrific things The Good God Morgoth who we shed our bliss for The promise of immortality, of days spent to praise the seas and land But alas! As we reached the Valar’s home, our white city turned black and soiled
The ground quaked with anger, and fire bit flesh So Ulmo swallowed the great kingdom, men and women and children taken to the depths of his home Tis the fate of Númenor, as such with every Man.
ೃ⁀➷"𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵... 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘺. 𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦." .ೃ࿐
- Peter Jackson/ The Hobbit movie
Just saw a tik tok that said George R. R Martin claims Jamie Lannister could beat Aragorn in a sword duel. First of all Aragorn is Dunedain higher race of men and he has the Narsil sword that injured Sauron, Jamie can’t compete where he doesn’t compare. Second of all Boromir in his past life as Ned Stark was Jamie’s fear so…. George better put some respect on Tolkien coming from an author who can’t finish his pro incest story. All in all this comical author has some nerve making these comical proposals
Disclaimer I didn’t even bother reading this but No He Does Not
4th of October: Crown / An Ceathramh Latha dhen Dàmhair: Crùn
English Translation:
Unlike his forebears, Thorin wore no crown. The people of Erebor placed their trust in him and he would not lead them astray, but when they came with a crown - forged in the halls they built in the west - as a way to honour his leadership, he refused them.
As a king in exile, Thorin would not bear any crown until he sat upon the throne of his fathers'. In the same way he kept his beard short, in memory of those lost to the dragon's fire, he remained unadorned in the traditional garb of his royal line.
Not until the mountain was theirs once more and the loss of their past washed out would he do so. Thorin took the crown made for him and placed it above the seat, hewn from the strong mountain rock, where he spoke to his people.
"Let it there rest," he said, "and every day I will work to reach its honour."
For in his heart, Thorin felt less than worthy to wear any crown, beggar-prince that he had been.
Scottish Gaelic Translation:
Aocoltach ris a sinnsearan, cha robh crùn air Thòrin. Chuir an t-sluaigh Erebor earbs air agus cha robh e ‘s gun cuireadh e iad air seachran. Ach nuair a thàinig iad le crùn, air dèanamh san tallachan a thogadh anns an Iar, mar onarachadh dha, cha ghabh e e.
Mar rìgh fògraich, cha robh Thòrin airson crùn a bhith air mus do sheas e air an rìgh-chathair nan athraichean. Anns an aon dòigh gun robh e a’ cumail na fheòsag goirid, cha bhiodh na aodaich rìoghail traidiseanta air mar chuimhneachan de dhaoine a chaidh a losgadh san teine an nathair-sgiathaich. Cha dèanadh e gus a bha a’ bheinn aca a-rithist.
Chuir Thòrin an crùn a bha air cruthachadh dha agus shuidhe e e air os chionn an rìgh-cathair a rinn an t-sluaigh às na clachan. An àite far am biodh e a’ bhruidhinn riutha.
“Leig an sin e,” thuirt e, “agus gach latha, obraich mi gus an urrainn dhomh an urram sin a’ ruigse.”
Air sgàth, anns a chridhe, cha robh Thòrin a’ faireachdainn gun robh e airidh air crùn sam bith—prionnsa dhìol-dèirce a bha e uaireigin.
3rd of October: Durin's Day / An Treasamh Latha dhen Dàmhair: Là Dhurin
English Translation:
In the early years after the dragon came, the Dwarves of Erebor set their eyes on survival. Much was lost to them during this time, cultural and religious customs they failed to sustain in their wanderings.
As soon as they had homes once again, mines to work in and forges to fire, Thorin looked to these things for the final missing piece in their lives. His nephews, growing fast, had never experienced Durin's Day in any way other than that of the Blue Mountains.
He heard Erebor in their speech, saw it in the style of their clothes, and even in the weapons they favoured, but so much of his nephews' cultural references lay elsewhere. He wished for them to understand Durin's Day through the eyes of their own culture.
Thus, ten years since Erebor had seen its last Durin's Day, her people put on a feast in Thorin's Halls the like of which was rarely seen. They worked tirelessly to have everything right: musicians woke up old ballads, bakers brought back old delicacies, and the elders gathered to pass their folktales onto the new generations. The exiles.
Another wound was healed that night, another wrong put right. Thorin watched over the festivities as Fili and Kili learnt how to sing a traditional Erebor hymn and thought of his own childhood.
Finally, everyone came together on the stone slopes before the gates of their halls to watch the last vestiges of the sunset fade from the sky behind them and the autumn moon rise in the eastern horizon. For a precious few minutes, both lights lingered together, before the sun was overcome at last.
Thorin stood with his arm around Dis and the boys by their legs, wide-eyed with their first Durin's Day beads braided carefully in their hair. They were't likely to sleep tonight.
The towering stature of the Misty Mountains blocked it from view, but Thorin knew - could see - beyond their white peaks lay Erebor, bathed in the silver light of Durin's moon.
Maybe he started it, or perhaps they all did so at the same time, but slowly and quietly, their low Dwarven voices rose into the sky with a song of home-sickness on their lips. A mourning song.
Oh, far over the Misty Mountains cold...
Scottish Gaelic Translation:
Anns na bliadhnaichean a chaidh seachad as dèidh don nathair-sgiathach tighinn, thoirt na Troichean Erebor an sùilean air mairsinneach. Chaill iad tòrr tron àm seo, nòsan cultarach is creideamh nach do chùm iad beò anns am fuadan aca.
Cho luath ‘s a bha dachaighean aca a-rithist, mèinnean a bhith ag obair anns agus ceàrdaichean a chuir teinne anns, chaidh Thòrin don rudan seo a’ sireach am pìos mu dheireadh air fhàgail bho am beathannan sa Bheinn Ònaranach. A’ fàs cho àrd a-nist, cha robh na mic a pheathar eòlach idir air an dòigh dhen Là Dhurin ach an dòigh na Beanntan Ghorm.
Chuala e Erebor san dòigh-bhruidhinn aca, san stoidhle aodach, eadhon san arm a bha an dithis measail air. Ach leis na rudan beaga, chunnaic e gun robh sin a’ tighinn bho àitichean eile. Bha e airson ‘s gum biodh iad a’ tuigsinn Là Dhurin tron shùilean an cultar aca fhèin.
Air an adhbhar sin, deich bliadhna seach gun do chunnaic Erebor an Là Dhurin mu dheireadh, chuir an t-sluaigh aice seòin air dòigh nach fhaca iad gu tric anns na Tallachan Thòrin. Dh’obraich iad gu cruaidh airson a h-uile rud a bhith ceart: dh’èirich ceòladairean seann balantan, rinn bèicearan seann biadh fìnealta, agus chruinneach na daoine aosmhor ri chèile airson am beul-aithris aca a thoirt don ghinealaichean ùra. Na fògraich.
Shlànaich gort eile an oidhche sin, rud eile a chuir ceart. Choimhead Thòrin air an subhachas mar a dh’ionnsaich Fìli is Kìli laoidh traidiseanta Erebor a sheinn agus smaointeach e air na làithean anns an robh e fhèin beag.
Mu dheireadh thall, thàinig a h-uile duine ri chèile a-mach air na slèibhtean mu bheul an geata nan tallachan. Choimhead iad air dol fodha na grèine san speur air an cùlaibh, an solas a’ dol às beag air bheag. Agus gealach an foghair a’ tighinn suas san fàire Ear. Airson beagan mionaidean prìseil, dh’fhuirich an dà sholas anns an speur ri chèile mus do dh’fhalbh a’ ghrian.
Sheas Thòrin le a gàirdean timcheall a phiuthar, Dìs, agus na bhalaich ri taobh nan casan. Bha na sùilean drileach aca a’ coimhead mòr, agus bha a’ chiad grìogagan Là Dhurin a bh’ aca air pleatach anns am falt. Cha bhiodh e comasach gun cadail iad a-nochd.
Cha b’ urrainn dha a’ faicinn tro na Beanntan Àird a’ Cheò, ach bha fios aige gun robh Erebor air a seasamh dìreach thar air na mullaichean gheala, lannrach anns an t-solas ghealach Dhurin.
Is docha gun do thoiseach esan e, no ‘s docha gun do rinn iad uile e aig an aon am, ach gu slaodach agus gu samhach, chaidh na guthan ìosal troiche dhan speur le òran chianalais air an bilean.
Ò thar na Beanntan Àird fhuar a’ Cheò...
2nd of October: Light / An dàrna latha dhen Dàmhair: Solas
English Translation:
Thorin knew beauty, perfection, could recognise the mark of true craftsmanship with ease. Though still young in the years of Dwarves, he studied at the side of their greatest smiths, deep in the halls of Erebor before the dragon came, and learnt the true meaning of creation.
The forges of Men lacked skill and care; working on them brought him no satisfaction, only a pittance in his hand and scorn on the road. Reaching the Blue Mountains was a relief to his people and to Thorin but they did not relish to live on the charity of others.
Their prince would not forget the glory and honour they came from. They established halls of their own in the west and raised themselves out of ruin, enough that many among Thorin's folk lost all desire to seek for their lost homeland again.
For their sake, and the sake of his siblings, Thorin spoke little of it - choosing to look ahead rather than live looking back. It did not stop the dreams or the memories, nor quell his anger. Never again will we be beggars, turned from the door like animals.
Oft did Thorin go among their smiths, seeking the familiarity of a hammer in the hand and the heat of the fire on his face.
But eyes the light of the Arkenstone had seen could not easily forget its radiance, nor find equal in dull and dusty gems. In his dreams, it lay buried beneath the dragon's paws, forever in the dark within walls once strewn with firelight.
The Arkenstone. The heart of the mountain, they called it. He held its light closely, tightly, and allowed his hope to live on in its glow.
(Sorry this one is shorter, I'm working tonight and don't have a lot of time to translate it!)
Scottish Gaelic Translation:
Bha Thòrin eòlach air àlainneachd, snas. Dh’fhaodadh e ag aithneachadh comharra fhìor cheàirde gu furasta. Ged a bha e òg fhathast ann am beatha nan troichean, dh’ionnsaich e ri taobh na goibhnean as motha a bh’ aca, anns na h-uaimhean ìsle, aosmhoire Erebor mus tàinig an nathair-sgiathach, agus dh’ionnsaich e am fior ciall chruitheachd.
Bha na ceàrdaichean gun sgil is nàistinn. Cha tug e toileachadh dha a bhith ag obair orra idir. Cha d’fhuair e dad ach priobaid na làimh agus tàir bhuapa air an rathad. Nuair a ràinig iad na Beanntan Ghuirm, b’ e faochadh don t-sluaigh aige agus ris fhèin, ach cha robhar measail air a bhith a’ fuirich air carantas.
Cha dhìochuimhneach am prionnsa a’ ghlòir is onaraich a bh’ aca. Thog iad tallachan dhaibh fhèin anns an Iar agus thog iad fhèin a-mach à lom-sgrios. B’ e sin gu leòr dha tòrr dhen t-sluaigh Thòrin a bhith gan caill am miann a bhith a’ sireach an tìr-dhàimh aca a-rithist.
Air an son, agus air a phiuthar is a bhràthair, cha bhruidhinn Thòrin mu dheidhinn gu tric. Choimhead e air adhart seach a bhith beò a’ coimhead air ais. Cha do stad sin na h-aislingean, na chuimhneachain, no chuir mùch air a fhuath. Cha bhith sinn nar dìolachan-dèirce a-riamh a-rithist, feumach air taic mar gun robh beathaichean a bh’ annainn.
Chaidh Thòrin gu tric a-measg na goibhnean aca, a’ sireach cinnt dhen t-òrd na làimh is teas an teine air an t-aodann. Ach cha b’ urrainn sùilean a chunnaic solas an Arkenstone dhìochuimhneachadh an deàrrsaidh no lorg an aon rud ann an leugan luaireanta, ràsanaiche. Anns na aislingean bha i adhlaicte fon smàg an nathair-sgiathach, anns an dorchadas, ann an tallachan a bha air lìonadh aon uair le solas an teine, gu sìorraidh brath.
An Arkenstone. Cridhe na Beinn, chuir iad oirre. Ghlèidh e an solas faisg, gu daingean, agus leig a dhòchas a bhith beò anns a deàrrsadh.
(Duilich gu bheil am fear seo nas beaga, tha mi air a bhith ag obair a-nochd agus cha robh àm gu leòr agam airson eadar-theangachadh a dhèanamh! Bidh mearachdan ann a sheo agus bheir mi sùil a-màireach air haha)