You’ve probably noted that in the various promo imagery we’ve seen, Galadriel bears a star-shaped emblem. It’s most prominent on her breastplate, but in the teaser trailer we also see the device used as shoulder pins.
The device that Galadriel bears upon her plate armour (left), and on either shoulders in the teaser trailer.
Is it some sort of heraldic device? If so, is it meant to be a personal device? Is it one for elves in general? Specifically for Noldorin elves? Or a particular branch of Noldor?
Let’s examine.
As I noted in my analysis of the Rings of Power Sun Sword poster, Tolkien developed a codified system of heraldic devices — examples of which can be found on the covers of the first UK edition of the Silmarillion. Many key characters involved in events of the First Age have their own associated device that they — and those of their house — employed.
Galadriel is not among those, though. We have no Galadriel device for direct comparison. Instead we must look at those of her near — and far — relatives.
Finarfin’s eight-rayed lozenge-shaped device (see above middle-left) offers a lot of similarity. However, the rays do not taper in the same way as the devices Galadriel bears in The Rings of Power material. That being said, there is an intriguing note that “this device was also used by Finarfin’s heirs, and apparently especially Finrod (though he was also given another device).”
This becomes more curious since in The Rings of Power teaser trailer we see Finrod wearing the exact same device as Galadriel in a scene where he and other elves battle desperately against a host of orcs. Could this device be a House of Finarfin thing?
Well, we also see in the same scene that some of Finrod’s equally embattled retinue sport the self-same device. Now, one might observe that folk of Finrod’s own house might bear the same device. Absolutely, they might.
Both Finrod and his embattled retinue bear the same sigil on their armour in the flash scene we see near the end of the first teaser trailer. I’ve brightened this screenshot to make the sigils more visible.
The same device is also present on the shoulder of the as-yet-unidentified fellow caught up in an unfortunate encounter with some kind of troll in the Amazon teaser trailer. Is that another member of Finarfin’s house? Could it be Angrod, or Aegnor? As yet, we don’t know for sure.
This unknown person — clad in a similar maille outfit as Galadriel in the teaser trailer — bears the same symbol pinned on the shoulder in the exact same position. Again, this image is slightly brightened for better visibility although it’s tricky to get a crisp focus.
One also observes the exact same device on the waist of the attire of an individual dressed in gold on one of the The Rings of Power teaser posters and in the teaser trailer. We believe this individual to be Gil-galad.
Now, Gil-galad is not of Finarfin’s house; he wouldn’t wear Finarfin’s device. In fact, Tolkien gives Gil-galad his very own device — one of white stars set on a blue field (or sky). This seems to be a strong argument against any conclusion that it’s Finarfin’s device. It seems we must search elsewhere for better answers.
UPDATE: please check the bootnote at the end for an addendum on Gil-galad’s parentage.
Gil-galad bears the exact same symbol at the waist of his attire in both teaser poster, and teaser trailer.
Arguably, Eärendil’s sign might be something they could all unite under — if it matched. The Silmarillion recounts how he become a symbol of hope for all:
Now when first Vingilot was set to sail in the seas of heaven, it rose unlocked for, glittering and bright; and the people of Middle-earth beheld it from afar and wondered, and they took it for a sign, and called it Gil-Estel, the Star of High Hope. And when this new star was seen at evening, Maedhros spoke to Maglor his brother, and he said: ‘Surely that is a Silmaril that shines now in the West?’
Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath, The Silmarillion
Some support for this perspective can be gleaned from one of the Vanity Fair “First Look” images. In the one that seems to show Galadriel and Elrond re-uniting in Lindon, there is a large tapestry in the background. This tapestry shows a stylised rayed star very similar to those worn by Galadriel, Gil-galad, Finrod and others.
Elrond and Galadriel are reunited in the majestic elven kingdom of Lindon. Courtesy of Amazon Studios. Note the the ship on the background behind them and the eight-rayed star at the very top of image.
This tapestry also depicts a ship or a boat, seemingly travelling toward, or guided by, the rayed star. Although probably a representation of a ship of the elves taking the journey to Valinor (it’s not yet the Straight Road because this is still the Second Age), the effect of the tapestry still feels evocative of the Star of High Hope mentioned above.
However, the heraldry of Eärendil is a six-pointed star, not one with eight points. I guess elven representations of Gil-Estel could be different — but the fact remains that what we see is just not Eärendil’s emblem.
There is one star that does seem a better visual fit: the Star of Fëanor that we encounter in the Lord of the Rings on The Doors of Durin at the west-entrance to Khazad-dûm.
‘There are the emblems of Durin!’ cried Gimli. ‘And there is the Tree of the High Elves!’ said Legolas. ‘And the Star of the House of Fëanor,’ said Gandalf.
A Journey in the Dark, The Lord of the Rings
The Doors of Durin from The Lord of the Rings as sketched by J.R.R. Tolkien. The Star of Fëanor can be seen at the centre of the image.
Like the emblem of Finarfin, there is a resemblance: eight rays and a distinct tapering. Perhaps more resemblance because of the tapering. Yet, it is also not exact: the four ordinal points are noticeably shorter than those we see on the device Tolkien created for The Doors of Durin.
There are additional (non-visual) contradictions.
Galadriel wouldn’t wear a symbol of the House of Fëanor. First, she’s of Finarfin’s house and would use his badge first. Second, Tolkien observes in Unfinished Tales that Galadriel had an abiding dislike of Fëanor. It’s that simple.
Just as importantly, Gil-galad wouldn’t either — not even as some symbol of solidarity. That’s because, throughout the Second Age, Gil-galad is the (undisputed) high-king of the Noldor in Middle-earth. The House of Fëanor is subsidiary to him in the Noldorin hierarchy.
Maedhros begged forgiveness for the desertion in Araman; and he waived his claim to kingship over all the Noldor, saying to Fingolfin: ‘If there lay no grievance between us, lord, still the kingship would rightly come to you, the eldest here of the house of Finwë, and not the least wise.’ [and] even as Mandos foretold the House of Fëanor were called the Dispossessed, because the over-lordship passed from it, the elder, to the house of Fingolfin, both in Elendë and in Beleriand.
Of the Return of the Noldor, The Silmarillion
Unfortunately, none of the options above fits neatly — every option creates unsatisfactory questions.
If this is the case, this prompts the question: why the lack of a good match?
Likely, the answer simply boils down to the intellectual property rights that Amazon holds for its TV series. (You might note that PJ’s Gil-Galad actually bears his Tolkienian heraldic symbol. The reason is probably down to a difference in the rights available.)
The showrunners have clearly stated (via Vanity Fair) that Amazon bought rights “solely to The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, The Return of the King, the appendices, and The Hobbit.” Nothing else.
That would place all the heraldic devices that Tolkien crafted out of reach — except the Star of Fëanor. But the showrunners are likely well-aware of the lore-clash of directly applying the Fëanorian star unilaterally.
Instead, it appears they’ve opted for something similar, but not exact — a generic derivation that they hope is symbolically evocative of elven heraldry and the elven reverence for Varda as the Lady of the Stars without directly contradicting one of the more obscure parts of the Legendarium (I love this stuff, but let’s face it — it is super-obscure).
That’s what I suggest is most likely occurring here.
Have they succeeded with that? On this point, I’m not convinced. Yes, it’s evocative — without a doubt. Yet the design still seems a little too similar to Fëanor’s star. I think it also leaves their hands tied when it comes to Celebrimbor. Because Celebrimbor should be the one using the Fëanorian star. Now, if they do try to replicate that, precisely as shown in The Lord of the Rings, will it even look different enough for us to notice?
BOOTNOTE: AlexP reminded me of something that I’d forgotten: Gil-galad’s parentage is complicated. The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales as edited by Christopher Tolkien state that Gil-galad is the son of Fingon. Later, in preparing The History of Middle-earth, CJRT decided this was an editorial error and that his father’s final decision was that Gil-galad was a son of Orodreth. At the same time, Tolkien switched Orodreth to being a son of Angrod.
What does that mean?
Well, if Amazon were to leave the parentage of Gil-galad implied rather than stated (CJRT himself felt he should have, in retrospect left it obscure in The Silmarillion), then maybe Tolkien Estate would allow it. All three wearers of the badge — Galadriel, Gil-galad and, we presume, our unknown troll fighter — become Finarfin’s heirs. As such it could be argued that it’s fitting for them to use his symbol for the reasons discussed above. It could be a gesture of family solidarity. Even the star we see in the tapestry in the Gala-Elrond image is a fit, because Lindon is the heart of Gil-galad’s kingdom.
About the author: Staffer Demosthenes has been involved with TheOneRing.net since 2001, serving first as an Associate News Editor, then as Chief News Editor during the making of the Hobbit films. Now he focuses on features and analysis.The opinions in this article are his own and do not necessarily represent those of TheOneRing.net and other staff.
Acknowledgements: I got a lot of assistance from keen-eyed folks on our Discord in pulling this together. So in no particular order (and apologies to anyone else who contributed that I’ve missed), many thanks to DurinDeathless, LadyNico, Lasswen, AlexP, SirSquatch, Sid and Sir Skrilldor.
If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to poetry@theonering.net. One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.
It’s long been known that the recordings of the 1950s BBC radio drama adaptation of The Lord of the Rings are (barring some unforeseen miracle) forever lost to time. But, lately there’s been a renewed interest in searching the BBC archives to see what actually remains.
This effort has primarily been lead by Oxford academic Stuart Lee.
The Guardian now reports that Lee has been able to uncover the original scripts for the 12-episode radio show that was broadcast in 1955 and 1956. It was the first adaptation of the Lord of the Rings in any medium, and (aside from Swedish musician Bo Hansson’s Sagan om ringen) the only one published during Tolkien’s lifetime.
Lee’s research revealed that Tolkien rewrote material for the BBC drama, working with producer Terence Tiller to adjust narration and dialogue for the production.
One script page shows Tolkien’s redraft of the Weathertop scene:
Frodo: What has happened? Where is the pale King?
Sam: We lost you, Mr Frodo. Where did you get to?
Frodo: Didn’t you see them?– the wraiths, and the King?
Aragorn: No, only their shadows…
Tolkien gave a description of the wraiths to the narrator, who linked the scenes: “At once the shapes became terribly clear. He could see under their black mantles. In their white faces burned merciless eyes…”
Lee said: “Without the freedom allowed to him in the novel, he considered the best way to convey a description of the wraiths, first rather clumsily getting Frodo Baggins to say ‘I… I put the ring on. Then the shapes became terribly clear, and I could see under their black cloaks. Their faces were white with cruel bright eyes…’ But he rejected this, favouring instead the use of the narrator.”
Tolkien’s handwritten suggestions in red for amendments to the BBC’s 1950s radio dramatisation. Photograph: BBC Written Archives Centre / The Tolkien Estate Limited.
Excerpts from Tolkien’s own correspondence — first published in 1981 by Humphrey Carpenter — reveal both frustrations with the result, and empathy with the task set before the production crew. In Letter #175 he states: “I think the book quite unsuitable for ‘dramatization’, and have not enjoyed the broadcasts—though they have improved”. In another letter (#194), he tells Tiller in his commentary on the first three episodes aired in 1956 that “here is a book very unsuitable for dramatic or semi-dramatic representation. If that is attempted, it needs more space, a lot of space.” He concludes by acknowledging that he felt Tiller “had a very hard task”.
A single sound excerpt from the 1955 radio series — the opening music — also survives in the BBC archives. It lasts about 25 seconds and can be heard starting about 4 minutes into a BBC Sounds production (which Lee was also involved in) called Tolkien: The Lost Recordings.
Lee’s research is set to appear as an essay (titled “A milestone in BBC history? The 1955–56 radio dramatization of The Lord of the Rings”) in The Great Tales Never End: Essays in Memory of Christopher Tolkien. The compendium of essays will be published by Bodleian Library Publishing in June 2022.
Priscilla Tolkien, the youngest of J.R.R. Tolkien’s four children, died on February 28 2022. She was 92 years old.
Born June 18 1929, Priscilla was the only daughter of the Professor and his wife Edith. They were already living in Oxford when she was born. At the age of fourteen, Priscilla typed up some of the early chapters of The Lord of the Rings for her father. She studied English at Lady Margaret Hall college in Oxford, who yesterday announced her passing.
Priscilla, like her older brother Christopher, was a champion of her father’s work. She was Vice-President of the Tolkien Society, and together with the oldest of the four children, her brother John, she published in 1992 The Tolkien Family Album. Frodo’s name in early drafts of The Lord of the Rings, Bingo Bolger-Baggins, apparently came from her names for a family of toy bears she had as a child.
As we wait – eagerly or anxiously – for new Middle-earth content in the form of Amazon’s upcoming Rings of Power tv show, we can pass some of the time with new content direct from the Professor himself. On February 26th the Tolkien Estate relaunched their website, releasing previously unseen material from their archives.
The exciting new reveals include draft manuscripts, letters, and even audio and video clips of Tolkien and his son, Christopher. You can read more about this release here; and you can find the Tolkien Estate website here.
There’s a particular letter in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien where Tolkien writes about his experience of dealing with a proposal from Forrest J. Ackerman to make an animated film of The Lord of the Rings.
Within that letter, there’s one revealing sentence.
Stanley U. &: I have agreed on our policy : Art or Cash. Either very profitable terms indeed ; or absolute author’s veto on objectionable[my emphasis] features or alterations.
Letter #202, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien.
The deal never happened, though Tolkien did subsequently sell film rights in 1969 to United Artists under the looming pressure of inheritance taxes.
These days, I suspect there’s no such pressure. More, the “Middle-earth universe” is seen as a proven starter for the world’s media companies. I think that has given Tolkien Estate leverage: the power to demand not just Cash, but Art as well.
In the context of the recent Vanity Fair feature, this explains not just the starting price for the Tolkien Estate’s rights auction a “gobsmacking” $200 million, but the documented demand for input into the direction of the series. In an early, seemingly unauthorised, interview, Tom Shippey described this “input” as a “veto power”.
It also says something about the power of Middle-earth that even with that eye-watering starting price and the attachment of certain pre-conditions, Netflix, HBO and Amazon all put their hand up and bid.
Still, even if Tolkien Estate was willing to put its foot down to get that capital-A Art, it was always going to take an equally ambitious (and well-resourced) studio to come through with the goods.
Despite Vanity Fair’s assurances (it’s pretty stunning that they’ve seen the first three episodes already), it’s too early for us ordinary punters to declare The Rings of Power a sure bet — in either the commercial sense, or the Art sense.
However, Vanity Fair’s first look under the bonnet shows there’s no lack of promise: the images are intriguing and suggestive, sets and costumes look suitably spectacular, and the production staff are making the right sort of noises about respecting the integrity of the source material.
But a show with the resources of The Rings of Power should (by default) have stunning production values and a real, lived-in feel. That’s just a given.
And it’s politic for showrunners to make the right noises (I would, too). The question is, can we identify instances of real substance to back those noises? Has the objectionable — as Tolkien might have seen it — been excised?
An Atlantis-like Númenor, the full glory of Khazad-dûm —- that vast dwarven metropolis carved out of the bones of the Misty Mountains, the puissance of the elven smith Celebrimbor, whose skills with metals and magic are crucial to the forging of the rings are all lore-friendly inclusions.
They’re also easy wins.
In a way, so too is the centrality of Galadriel.
Galadriel is a key player in the Second Age (fighting the long defeat, as she expresses in The Lord of the Rings). After the publication of that book, Tolkien increasingly came to view her as one of the most remarkable elves to play a role in Middle-earth’s history, and his later essays and notes paint her as an increasingly exceptional individual. She’s also incredibly peripatetic throughout the Second Age — wandering from Lindon, into Eriador and eventually south to Eregion, under the Misty Mountains to Lórien, back across to Imladris (Rivendell) and finally the south coasts of what would later become Gondor.
During all that, she’s a key participant in events. She joins Gil-galad to reject the approaches of Annatar, alternately collaborating and at loggerheads with Celebrimbor (and later advising him to hide Nenya, Vilya and Narya), before strengthening then-Lórinand (later Lórien). Unfinished Tales states that she views the dwarves of Khazad-dûm “with the eye of a commander”.
That bespeaks a driven individual — and this is something that the teasers from Vanity Fair support. I want to see lots of ambition from Galadriel — someone with just as much inner-belief and determination to make things happen as Fëanor, but with (even at the start of the Second Age) a touch more wisdom. I think you should too.
As showrunner McKay Patrick tells Vanity Fair: “This young hot-headed Galadriel… how did she ever become that elder stateswoman [who we meet in Lórien in The Lord of the Rings]?” The awareness of that difference is present; if the show is able to intelligently show this change, it will have taken a large step toward something that accords with J.R.R. Tolkien’s own musings.
Reassuring also is the gradual emergence of the Second Age threat — one that’s recognised by some, but not by others. After all, up until the forging of the One, Sauron (as Annatar) uses the velvet glove, not the iron fist. Very late writings recently published in The Nature of Middle-earth even suggest that his minions mocked him behind his back for this.
Again, direct statements from the McKay seem to back this: “We didn’t want to do a villain-centric thing. We wanted it [the first season] to be about introducing these worlds and the peoples who dwell in them and the major heroes and characters.”
And what is potentially one of the most contentious decisions — to include Hobbits as “Harfoots” — accords somewhat with both Gandalf’s description of Gollum’s folk (yes, I know those are, more correctly, Stoors): “a clever-handed and quiet-footed little people.”
And a note in the prologue chapter of The Lord of the Rings, “Concerning Hobbits” details that “even in ancient days [Hobbits] were, as a rule, shy of ‘the Big Folk’, as they call us, and now they avoid us with dismay and are becoming hard to find … [and] they possessed from the first the art of disappearing swiftly and silently, when large folk whom they do not wish to meet come blundering by…”
Is this one decision Tolkien Estate has weighed in on? Regardless, much will hinge on the execution of the concept.
Set against the above is the compression of the timeline that the showrunners discuss. First, kudos to the production staff for being clear on this. In fact, it recalls Peter Jackson’s bald statements that his films would include no Scouring of the Shire — a very real cause of fan angst at the time. (I still think that writing decision undersold some of the character development of the four key hobbits, but, weighing in at 201 minutes, PJ’s The Return of the King is already very long.)
I get the fact that it’s probably really difficult for any television series to traverse a 2,500-year history in a way that is not choppy and disjointed, and remains compelling viewing. Being able to see characters such as, say, Isildur and Ar-Pharazôn across a span of 5 seasons allows a great deal more screentime (and thus development and insight) than would be possible in a couple of seasons. A strictly linear structure would introduce them only at near the very conclusion of the entire series.
Still, I would have liked (as many speculated before the Vanity Fair article came out) to have seen Amazon be really daring and attempt to run two split, simultaneous timelines — one leading up to the forging of the One (and Sauron’s defeat by the elves and Númenor’s fleet), and another focused on Akallabêth and, perhaps, the War of the Last Alliance (also culminating in Sauron’s defeat, this time by the elves and the Dúnedain of Arnor and Gondor).
Doubtless, it would be demanding on the audience. But if it worked, it would have been amazing.
It’s worth noting, though, that J.R.R. Tolkien in his appraisal of the Morton Grady Zimmerrnan’s 1958 script made specific reference to his displeasure with time contraction of events.
There he states that:
I fail to see why the time-scheme should be deliberately contracted. It is already rather packed in the original, the main action occurring between Sept. 22 and March 25 of the following year. The many impossibilities and absurdities which further hurrying produces might, I suppose, be unobserved by an uncritical viewer; but I do not see why they should be unnecessarily introduced.
Letter #210, The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
Does that make this particular contraction objectionable?
In Letter #210, Tolkien points out that he doesn’t want to see “his work treated as it would seem carelessly in general, in places recklessly, and with no evident signs of any appreciation of what it is all about.” He does not want the tone lowered “towards that of a more childish fairy-tale.” Lastly, he does not wish for deliberate alteration of the story, in fact and significance, without any practical or artistic object [my emphasis].”
At least, those are my key takeaways.
Now, one observes that if the time scheme of The Lord of the Rings is packed, the precis account of the Second Age in The Tale of Years is most certainly not.
Tolkien also notes in Letter #210 that he closely observed the passing of seasons in The Lord of the Rings. He suggests that such pictorial representations could be used to non-explicitly indicate the passage of time. Similar effects might be employed for The Rings of Power series. Maybe not the thousands we are familiar with from “The Tale of Years”, but certainly dozens — or even the 100 to 200 that might encompass the lifespan of a Dúnedain of Númenor, or a dwarf of Durin’s line.
How much time is being contracted? Vanity Fair is not precise: the writers say that events are compressed “into a single point in time.” That might mean a span of a generation.
Here is where it would have been fascinating to be a fly on the wall in the discussions between Amazon Studios and Tolkien Estate.
Finally, keep in mind J.R.R. Tolkien’s letter to Milton Waldman outlining his artistic vision:
I would draw some of the great tales in fullness, and leave many only placed in the scheme, and sketched. The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands, wielding paint and music and drama. Absurd.
Letter #131. The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
Absurd. Yet, here we are.
With this in mind, I think there are promising signs that Tolkien Estate (and indeed, Amazon Studios) is seeking Art, not just Cash. Early shoots with the promise of beautiful spring, you might say.
But there’s still an awfully long way to go.
As Galadriel says in The Lord of the Rings: “hope remains while all the Company is true.” We’ll see in September how true this particular company has been.
About the author: Staffer Demosthenes has been involved with TheOneRing.net since 2001, serving first as an Associate News Editor, then as Chief News Editor during the making of the Hobbit films. Now he focuses on features and analysis.The opinions in this article are his own and do not necessarily represent those of TheOnering.net and other staff.
If you have a Tolkien/Middle-earth inspired poem you’d like to share, then send it to poetry@theonering.net. One poem per person may be submitted each month. Please make sure to proofread your work before sending it in. TheOneRing.net is not responsible for poems posting with spelling or grammatical errors.
Variety reports that Warner Bros. and the Saul Zaentz Co. are currently in private mediation to settle differences over license rights to film adaptations of key J.R.R. Tolkien’s works The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.
According to Variety’s sources, the argument stems from disagreement about whether the studio has met ongoing obligations needed to maintain the long-term license that it has held since the late 1990s.
In a statement to Variety, a Warner Bros. spokeswoman said:
New Line Cinema has maintained the theatrical film rights, both live-action and animated, for over two decades now. We are currently in production on our anime film ‘The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim’ and look forward to bringing audiences back to Middle-earth.
Warner Bros. earlier this week announced a release date for that film, and showed off the first samples of concept art.
As Variety points out, license deals such as this “often involve producers conducting a certain level of development and production activity by pre-determined dates, among other clauses.”
However, it is the Saul Zaetnz Co. (through its subsidiary, Middle-earth Enterprises) that holds the rights to exploit The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit “in movies, video games, merchandising, live events and theme parks.”
Variety adds that this includes limited matching rights should the Tolkien Estate make movies or other content based on two Tolkien books published after his death: The Silmarillion, and The Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-earth.
The Saul Zaentz Co. also recently announced that it will auction all its Tolkien IP rights. Universal and Warner Bros. are both reported to be interested.
