Sourcing the Sources: Who Wrote the Grey Annals?

I have had a bit of fun these past few months, doing in-universe text-analysis of Tolkien’s Akallabêth and Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age. I’ve had so much fun, in fact, that I had vague intentions of a further project along similar lines – an in-universe text-analysis of the differing sources for Túrin Turambar. The Silmarillion chapter on Túrin offers a different perspective on the character from the book-length Children of Húrin, and I did not think this was entirely down to matters of length. I thought it might well be a matter of differing perspectives between Elves and Men, with the harsher assessment of The Silmarillion representing Elves and the kinder (or at least more sympathetic) version of The Children of Húrin representing Men. Túrin is, after all, a Man. Such a divide makes intuitive sense.

To be fair, so long as one does not look under the dragon-helm hood, there are sound reasons for such a hypothesis. The Quenta Silmarillion can be reasonably (albeit controversially) ascribed to the Elven loremaster, Pengolodh – the problem being whether Christopher Tolkien’s 1977 constructed document can be said to exist in-universe as the Quenta. The Children of Húrin can just as reasonably be seen as a fixed-up Narn i Hîn Húrin, which Tolkien ascribes to the Mannish poet Dirhaval, as translated into Old English prose by the Anglo-Saxon mariner, Aelfwine. Insofar as The Children of Húrin novel – a patchwork effort from Christopher Tolkien – can be said to exist in-universe, Aelfwine might be considered the author. For those of you screaming about Translations from the Elvish, by Bilbo Baggins Esq, I will consider that point at the end – for the purposes of this essay I am running with the Pengolodh/Aelfwine model of transmission.

Anyway, the problem is that once one looks under the hood, problems pop up. The raw materials of Túrin’s story are actually The Grey Annals from The War of the Jewels (The History of Middle-earth Volume XI) and the non-fixed up Narn i Hîn Húrin from Unfinished Tales. The Narn isn’t the problem here, except in the sense that it is unfinished. We know who is responsible: as per The War of the Jewels, pp.311-315., it is the Men, Dirhaval and Aelfwine. The real problem is The Grey Annals, which does not have clear authorship, and before one can get serious with a text-analysis of it, one needs to have a vague idea of what sort of person is responsible, since this impacts on questions of bias and narrator perspective.

(Oh, and as per Christopher Tolkien’s commentary in The War of the Jewels, p.144., it seems likely that the Narn was actually his father’s real-life basis for the later parts of The Grey Annals… which rather dents my overarching hypothesis that the divide between the two is Men versus Elves, as opposed to a simple matter of length. One can still assume that the Elves were borrowing from earlier Mannish material, and putting their own spin on it, but it’s all a bit messy, and involves more and more convenient fictions the closer you actually look).

With all that out the way, today I thought I’d tackle a more clear-cut problem. It’s also one of the preliminary problems underlying the wider project – who, exactly, wrote The Grey Annals?

As context, The Grey Annals represent the third iteration of an in-universe Beleriand-focused chronicle. Think Tolkien taking inspiration from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: a summary of the events of a given year, across multiple years.

The first two incarnations, The Earliest Annals of Beleriand and The Later Annals of Beleriand, were written in the early and late 1930s respectively. The Grey Annals appeared in the early 1950s, in the aftermath of Tolkien writing (but not yet publishing) The Lord of the Rings.

The authorship of the Earliest Annals is a straight-forward matter. It is Pengolodh, with Aelfwine serving as translator:

These and the Annals of Beleriand were written by Pengolod the Wise of Gondolin, before its fall, and after at Sirion’s Haven, and at Tavrobel in Tol Eressëa after his return unto the West, and there seen and translated by Eriol of Leithien, that is Ælfwine of the Angelcynn.

(The History of Middle-earth IV: The Shaping of Middle-earth, p.263.).

The Later Annals are a bit less explicit. We do not have an initial statement of authorship, but we do have an insertion into the companion Later Annals of Valinor (HOME V: The Lost Road and Other Writings, p.116.), whereby Rúmil’s section ends and Pengolodh’s begins. Rúmil was not aware of Beleriand shenanigans, on account of not leaving Valinor, but Pengolodh was in Beleriand, and could make necessary additions.

Moreover, we also have the manuscript title-page of the 1937 Quenta Silmarillion (The Lost Road, pp.201-203.), which lists the Valinor and Beleriand Annals (and the Lhammas) as being parts of the wider work. Most importantly for our purposes, we get ‘Aelfwine’s note’ as a short preamble (p.203.):

These histories were written by Pengolod the Wise of Gondolin, both in that city before its fall, and afterwards at Tathrobel in the Lonely Isle, Tol Eressëa, after the return unto the West. In their making he used much the writings of Rúmil the Elfsage of Valinor, chiefly in the annals of Valinor and the account of tongues, and he used also the accounts that are preserved in the Golden Book. The work of Pengolod I learned much by heart, and turned into my tongue, some during my sojourn in the West, but most after my return to Britain.

In context, ‘these histories’ would include the Annals of Beleriand, which by now would be in their Later incarnation. This makes it pretty safe to assume Pengolodh was still envisaged as the author.

Well and good. But what of the Grey Annals?

It’s messy.

(I think I can barely construct an in-universe textual explanation for their content… but it forces me into the realm of head-canon. I very much doubt my efforts to impose coherency on this mess was what was subjectively going through the mind of J.R.R. Tolkien in the early 1950s. But here goes anyway…)

Basically, my theory is this:

The Grey Annals started out as the work of Daeron of Doriath. A copy was taken by him to the Mereth Aderthad, where the Noldorin loremasters made their own copies, adapted from Cirth into Tengwar. One of these Noldorin copies later wound up in the hands of Pengolodh of Gondolin, who updated it as he saw fit – generally in accordance with the political line promoted by Turgon. Pengolodh then took his copy to the Havens of Sirion, where he massively expanded it via interviews with the former inhabitants of Nargothrond and Doriath. For further political reasons (Elwing!), he extensively covered the mortal lineage of Beren, while also taking the Annals back to its Sindarin roots… playing up the role of Doriath where possible. Pengolodh (who is half-Sindar himself) fudges the authorship for these political reasons.

At the Havens, Pengolodh came to know Dirhaval personally, and had access to his verse Narn. He used Dirhaval’s work to pad out the Annals in prose form, and in the Second Age took all this material back to Tol Eressëa. Once there, he used his Beleriand material to supplement and edit Valinorean material. Then in the early tenth century A.D., Aelfwine turned up on the island, and made his prose translation of Dirhaval’s Narn… using Pengolodh’s Annals as an aid. Aelfwine also made his own silent edits and additions to the Annals, prior to their Modern English translation at the hands of Professor Tolkien.

In summary, I think there are five Phases within the in-universe compilation of the Grey Annals:

• I: The original Doriath Phase (up to YS 20)
• II: The Noldorin/Gondolin Phase (YS 20-510)
• III: The Havens/Refugee Phase (YS 510-End of First Age)
• IV: The Lindon and Tol Eressea Phase (Second Age and After)
• V: The Aelfwine Phase (Tenth Century A.D.)

The fact that the Annals end with Túrin can, of course, be explained in-universe as the later sections being damaged or destroyed at some point between the tenth and twentieth centuries. Basically, Aelfwine had access to the full record in a way that Tolkien did not.

Now to discuss how I arrived at this conclusion…

Phase One: Doriath

As per The War of the Jewels, p.4., Christopher Tolkien cites a scribbled note from his father on the Later Annals of Beleriand:

‘Make these the Sindarin Annals of Doriath and leave out most of the…’ (there are here two words that probably read ‘Nold[orin] stuff’).

This would suggest a substantial overhaul in terms of the authorship question. Pengolodh of Gondolin finds himself sidelined in favour of Doriath loremasters. And, sure enough, we immediately see this in terms of the opening preamble to the Grey Annals:

These are the Annals of Beleriand as they were made by the Sindar, the Grey Elves of Doriath and the Havens, and enlarged from the records and memories of the remnant of the Noldor of Nargothrond and Gondolin at the Mouths of Sirion, whence they were brought back into the West.

– The War of the Jewels, p.5.

Well and good. The problem is that while this may have been the initial intent of the Grey Annals, their actual substance suggests copious material deriving from a Noldorin author. The War of the Jewels, p.39., refers to Morgoth being restrained by the swords of the Noldor… which is something that no self-respecting Sinda of Doriath would ever write, even after extensive consultation with the sympathetic survivors of Nargothrond and Gondolin.

So while the Annals do have a heavy Doriath component, we need an explanation for this Noldorin material. In light of the preamble, it makes more sense to imagine that the transmission went Doriath > Noldor, rather than the other way around. These are the nominal Grey Annals, after all, so it makes sense for this material to be originally the work of the Grey Elves. One also imagines that in a realm like Doriath, which later banned the Quenya language, it would have been politically fraught to build off initially Noldorin foundations, whereas it would have been acceptable among the Noldor to build off Sindarin foundations.

So if the Grey Annals were rooted in Doriath, can we be more precise about their initial nature?

I would argue that we can… ironically through material that is probably Noldorin insertion and commentary. The entries as listed can be incredibly deceptive due to clear cases of multiple different loremasters going back and inserting “freshly discovered material” into the chronological timeline as they see fit. The Grey Annals, alas, does not have a clear cut-off point between, say, “this was written in Doriath” and “this was written in Gondolin”, but rather comes across as a free-for-all, with layers upon layers added all over the dating.

Thus we find the reference on pp.13-14. to Daeron the Minstrel (and loremaster of Doriath) developing the Cirth alphabet. That this is Noldorin information – and not Sindarin – is evident because the entry uses the vague formula “it is said”, a hallmark of the writing style of Pengolodh and his literary imitators. Were the entry from a Sindarin source, the information would be much more precise, since the chief loremaster of the realm would be able to date his own work!

The entry also goes on to note that the Sindarin Cirth was little used in record keeping prior to the Wars of Beleriand… which arguably weighs against my overall authorship theory, but can be rationalised as Pengolodh expressing frustration that Daeron and Associates had not preserved more in written format. Considering the length of time between the invention of the Cirth and the arrival of the Noldor*, there arguably ought to be more juicy historical records coming out of Doriath, beyond the details of Menegroth’s construction. Perhaps Daeron the Minstrel was keen on maintaining oral tradition alongside barebones record-keeping?

*The Grey Annals makes it clear that this was a substantial period. The Lord of the Rings, Appendix E, would appear to be in error about the influence of the Noldor on Daeron’s work.

Anyway, despite the later antagonism between Doriath and the Noldor, we also have an in-universe connection event, whereby the Grey Annals might have been transmitted out to the Noldorin loremasters. I refer to the Feast of Reuniting in YS 20, the Mereth Aderthad, which was extremely well-attended by the Noldor, but where the only attendees from Doriath were Daeron and Mablung. Daeron is the point of interest, of course – it would have been the first (and maybe last) meeting between the Doriath loremaster and his Noldorin equivalents, and the perfect chance for the Noldor to get their blood-stained hands on a copy of the Grey Annals. Cue a new Phase of the text.

(I think subsequent Doriath material, of which there is still a fair amount, does not come from the initial work of Daeron and his Associates, but rather comes from Pengolodh later interviewing Doriath refugees. In short, a Noldorin scribe puts the Sindar back into the work they started. But we will get to that. Suffice to say that a reference to the Ruin of Doriath (p.14.) can only have come after the fact).

Phase Two: Noldor and Gondolin

Even when Pengolodh of Gondolin is not ascribed a First Age text, his long shadow can still fall upon it. In the case of the Grey Annals, ostensibly associated with Doriath, the fact that these records were “taken West” implies his presence – we are seeing an allusion to Pengolodh and Aelfwine upon Tol Eressea.

But if the key moment for Sindarin > Noldorin transmission is the Mereth Aderthad, Pengolodh was likely too young to have met Daeron in person. As per the short biography (The War of the Jewels, pp.396-397.), he was born in Nevrast before moving to Gondolin on its foundation. This means he was born after the arrival of Fingolfin’s host over the Grinding Ice… and would have been 20 or even younger by YS 20. Thus the initial copies of the Grey Annals – including presumably their translation from Cirth into Tengwar – would have been the work of other Noldorin loremasters. Likely loremasters associated with Turgon, since Pengolodh rose to later prominence in Gondolin, and ones more than happy to find a local equivalent of Rúmil’s Annals of Aman to sink their teeth into.

The hallmark of this phase of the Grey Annals is incorporating the Flight of the Noldor into the Beleriand narrative. And because this is the Grey Annals, that means retrospectively inserting Noldorin events into a previously Sindarin-centric timeframe. We thus have the record of Feanor’s death scene (p.18.), which predates the Mereth Aderthad by a couple of decades. Nor can any Sindar have been privy to it (and comparatively few Noldor. One suspects the transmission of that detail went something like Maglor > Fingolfin > Turgon > Pengolodh). We are also dealing with what is consciously the Fingolfinian side of the Noldorin story – the text presumes to give us Fingolfin’s inner thoughts (p.31.), along with the surprising claim that Fingolfin was selected as High King via council vote, rather than Maedhros’ abdication (pp.33-34.). The one unifying feature of the Grey Annals is that all its contributors despise the House of Feanor.

Apart from various unironic celebrations of Noldorin superiority – I have previously referred to the “swords of the Noldor” passage, but the reference to architecture on p.40. was not written by a Sinda either – the remainder of this Phase deals with Gondolin. Which means our friend Pengolodh. Here we have the story of Turgon building the city in secret – though the dream aspects of the story (p.35.) could not have been added to the text until Pengolodh interviewed Nargothrond refugees at the Havens. We also get the Fall of Fingolfin, ostensibly recounted via Thorondor to Turgon (p.55.). The death of Fingolfin’s horse (p.56.) would have been a later addition.

I also suspect that the tale of Húrin and Huor’s visit to Gondolin was a later addition, made by Pengolodh at the Havens, or after the Nirnaeth at the earliest. Húrin’s true narrative importance would only have become apparent once Pengolodh learned of his son.

Phase Three: The Havens and Refugees

With the Fall of Gondolin, Pengolodh found himself in a highly cosmopolitan refugee camp at the Havens of Sirion. It is here that the Grey Annals became more than a Noldorin edifice upon a Sindarin base. It is here that Pengolodh reincorporated Doriath back into its own Annals, while at the same time bolstering his existing work via talking with Men and Elves from different parts of Beleriand. Cue more retrospective additions to the timeline – despite meeting Húrin and Huor, Pengolodh is unlikely to have previously known of the circumstances of the awakening of Men (pp.30-31.).

We also see his explicit incorporation of two other literary works, which he would only now have been encountering for the first time – the Lay of Leithian (p.59. onwards) and the Narn i Hîn Húrin (p.80. onwards).

The Lay of Leithian would have had important ramifications. For a start, it would have been entirely a product of Doriath, prior to Pengolodh getting his hands on it – the songs that refer to Barahir’s companions (p.56.) were not mortal ones, since Beren literally never came into contact with any fellow humans once he lost his outlaw band. These are the songs of Sindarin Elves, and while the Lay itself is unlikely to have been the work of Daeron, a Pseudo-Daeron was clearly available to assist Pengolodh with the details of both plot and of wider kingdom affairs. Thus the re-Sindarisation of a Grey Annals text hitherto dominated by Noldor-centric writing.

(At no point, however, does one run into a passage that cannot have been written by a self-respecting Noldo. Hence my hypothesis that this re-Sindarisation was done via a Noldorin scribe with Sindarin assistance, and not via the Sindar directly).

In light of the prominent role of Elwing at the Havens, one might also suggest this showcases Pengolodh’s talent as a political weather-vane. In Gondolin, he was more than happy to further the Fingolfin-Turgon party line. Now, by going to such exceptional lengths in terms of tracing Beren’s family tree (p.51.), and recording the flattering story of Elwing’s heroic grandmother… he is certainly ingratiating himself with what remains of powerful Beleriand Elves. One even wonders whether the Doriath origins of the re-Sindarised text were played up (p.5.) for this very purpose, to the extent of Pengolodh being surprisingly willing to accept a degree of authorial anonymity. In any case, the new regime – like the old – still allows him to do what he does best. Bash the House of Feanor.

As for the Narn, Dirhaval was at the Havens, performing extensive research into what was clearly a distinct Mannish tradition, though also one that was strongly reliant on information from Doriath. Pengolodh was similarly at the Havens, gathering research for the Annals and other material. I find it extremely likely that the pair were personally acquainted, but even if they were not, Pengolodh’s handling of the story betrays a familiarity with the Dirhaval’s work (p.144.), and additionally serves to insert yet more Sindar material into his text. Dirhaval also likely inspired him to see Húrin’s importance with fresh eyes. Which, as with so much else about the Grey Annals, probably inspired retrospective rewrites, and hitherto neglected references to mortal ancestors.

(The fact that Pengolodh included the talking Gurthang anecdote in his Annals suggests he might have held Dirhaval in high artistic regard. Though he does also include flowers sprouting beneath Fingolfin’s feet (p.30.), so perhaps he has a taste for the poetic and colourful).

Phase Four: Lindon and Tol Eressea

So much for the raw material of the Grey Annals – in the absence of the post-Túrin entries, one cannot make further speculation about how Pengolodh obtained it. I would suggest that the next Phase represented an ordering and digesting of the material. The text, after all, references the Quenta at various points (p.32. and p.38.), which implies the existence of other completed works by our loremaster, which he was seeking to bring to a level of consistency.

Those with a more sceptical worldview might suggest that Pengolodh took the opportunity for poetic narrative flourishes. Morgoth’s supposed fear and hatred of Turgon (p.77.) fits well enough, given the role Turgon’s grandson played in his downfall… but for such a loyal promoter of the Fingolfin-Turgon party line as Pengolodh, the anecdote feels like yet another case of after-the-fact political cheerleading. It is easy to make prophecies come true when you are writing them backwards.

(Similar question marks might be made about the prophetic visions of Feanor (p.18.) and Huor (p.76.) just before their deaths. Nice writing, of course, and arguably reflective of the role of fate in Tolkien’s world, but did Pengolodh and his Gondolin colleagues really think that Feanor had that sudden realisation? Or was it simply yet another means of demonising the fellow?).

In rounding out this discussion of Pengolodh’s “editing” work on the Grey Annals, I would also note the point made by Christopher Tolkien (p.107.). Namely that at least one of the early Grey Annals entries (YT 1152) corresponds closely to a similar entry in the Annals of Aman – which makes no sense if the Grey Annals were the “pure” work of the Sindar, after the manner of the preamble. Christopher speculates that this correspondence suggests that both sets of Annals were edited for consistency by Pengolodh on Tol Eressea. While I have suggested reasons for why the Sindar might have been (overly-charitably) credited with authorship, that speculation is also something I agree with.

Phase Five: Aelfwine

But Pengolodh was not the last loremaster to get his paws on the Grey Annals. There is reason for thinking that Aelfwine himself took a silent and cheeky stab at adding material, long after the fact. Specifically, on p.50., we have this:

The men of Beor were dark or brown of hair, but fair of face, with grey eyes; of shapely form, having courage and endurance, yet they were no greater in stature than the Eldar of that day. For the Noldor indeed were tall as are in the latter days men of great might and majesty.

This passage suggests a degree of familiarity with the views of the “real” human world. Specifically, it addresses the implicit assumption that Elves are seen as short – something that Aelfwine could reasonably seek to address, but which makes no real sense for Pengolodh to consider. Moreover, Aelfwine is a far better fit for knowing the height of “latter day men.” After all, he is one. By contrast, Pengolodh cannot be meeting such Men on a regular basis!

More debatably, there is also a p.5. reference to the Elder Days. As Tolkien’s Elves do use that terminology, it is possible that Pengolodh could be using it here… but the Elves tend to use it to remind their listeners of the gulf of time between then and now. Pengolodh’s been on Tol Eressea, not collecting the cares of the world. He arguably has less reason to refer to it than Aelfwine, for whom the Elder Days really are ancient history.

Suffice to say, this addition of a final in-universe filter serves only to further complicate what is arguably an extremely complicated text.

But What About Bilbo?

I promised earlier to address one particular thorn in the side of this essay. Namely that the Pengolodh/Aelfwine mode of story transmission is rendered obsolete by The Lord of the Rings and Bilbo’s Translations from the Elvish.

The easiest answer – and indeed my own personal head-canon – is that the two forms of transmission do not inherently contradict each other. It is perfectly possible to propose that Tolkien was “working” from two different sources for his First Age stories, one passed down via the Red Book and the other from Aelfwine’s efforts.

It is also possible to imagine a scenario where Pengolodh exists, but Aelfwine does not. Here, Pengolodh would have left materials at Rivendell prior to his departure. Bilbo translates those materials… problem solved. We even get to retain the gloriously vexed question of narrative bias. Except that simply swapping in Bilbo for Aelfwine would arguably involve a degree of violence to the existing texts.

For a start, it runs up against the statement that Pengolodh took his works West (to Tol Eressea). Secondly, given Bilbo’s fondness for poetry, I would find it strange for him to translate Dirhaval’s work into prose (Aelfwine excuses himself as a poor poet so settles on prose (p.313.)). And as per Phase Five above, Bilbo would have no reason to address the question of the Eldar being short. So this is not my preferred solution.

A final alternative is to dump both Pengolodh and Aelfwine altogether, and just run with Númenorean Transmission – the reason Christopher Tolkien took out references to the loremaster narrators in the published Silmarillion. I am personally not a fan of that either, since I see the narrative viewpoint of the Quenta Silmarillion (but not the Akallabêth!) as quintessentially Elvish. Your mileage may, however, vary.

**

That concludes my somewhat strange and extended look at what lies beneath the hood of one of Tolkien’s most substantial First Age stories… and more specifically, my extended effort at making sense of the Grey Annals at the level of in-universe authorship. I would like to think that my theory on authorship manages to square with most of the textual evidence, and if my offered solution is a good deal more complex than one might expect, it is because the text itself is an industrial-strength mess, so far as trying to understand Tolkien’s intended author goes. If I do wind up comparing the ‘short’ and ‘long’ versions of Túrin under the convenient fiction that one is Elvish and the other Mannish, I will at least be able to point to this post as an indication that such a claim really would be a convenient fiction. This is one of those areas where Tolkien’s work really does become more rabbit-hole than hobbit-hole.

• April 8, 2022
• Reading, Tolkien essays
• 1 Comment