Tolkien’s Tale of Beren and Lúthien: A Reinvention of the Myth of Orpheus and Eurydice?

     J.R.R Tolkien’s The Silmarillion features a love story involving Beren and Lúthien, a man and an elf, respectively. Although elves may die if exposed to extreme grief or physical harm, they are otherwise biologically immortal, while men have finite lifespans. Lúthien’s father, Thingol, disapproves of his daughter’s involvement with a mortal. However, Beren refuses to give up, and he undertakes a series of perilous adventures in order to win Thingol’s approval. When he finally receives Thingol’s permission to wed Lúthien and marries her, Beren tragically perishes in a quest alongside his wife and father-in-law. Lúthien’s extreme sorrow soon causes her own death. When she arrives at the halls of Mandos (the keeper of the dead), Lúthien’s sorrowful song moves Mandos so greatly that she is offered the opportunity to take Beren back from the dead and live once more in the mortal realm. The story closely parallels the classical myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, but the characters’ success in these stories varies due to differences in the strengths of their relationships. 

     An early similarity between the two stories is the parallel between the descent of Orpheus to the underworld and the journey of Lúthien to the halls of Mandos. As Ovid describes, 

Quam satis ad superas postquam Rhodopeius auras

deflevit vates, ne non temptaret et umbras,

ad Styga Taenaria est ausus descendere porta;¹

And when the Rhodopeian poet had shed enough tears about Eurydice toward the upper airs, lest he not try even the ghosts, he dared to descend to the River Styx via the Taenarian gate.²

One of the key elements in this description is that intense grief, presenting itself in his tears, drives Orpheus downward to the underworld in his pursuit of Eurydice. This grief motivates Orpheus to pursue such desperate action as seeking passage to the underworld. Although the halls of Mandos in Tolkien’s legendarium are not the subterranean world of shades as in Greco-Roman mythology, Lúthien’s sorrow manifests itself in a similar manner as Orpheus’. Upon Beren’s death, she

“bid[s] him await her beyond the Western Sea”³

on his spirit’s journey out of this world, and soon thereafter

“the spirit of Lúthien fell down into darkness, and at the last it fled,”⁴

eventually arriving at

“the halls of Mandos [. . .] beyond the mansions of the West,”⁵ 

the agreed upon meeting location for the two. The idea that grief drags the characters downward into their journeys persists across the two stories. 

     After their descent into the respective realms of the dead, Lúthien and Orpheus both plead for mercy through music. Orpheus makes his song before Pluto and Persephone, and Ovid describes in detail its effects on the rest of the underworld:

Talia dicentem nervosque ad verba moventem

exsangues flebant animae: nec Tantalus undam

captavit refugam, stupuitque Ixionis orbis,

nec carpsere iecur volucres, urnisque vacarunt

Belides, inque tuo sedisti, Sisyphe, saxo.

Tunc primum lacrimis victarum carmine fama est

Eumenidum matisse genas.⁶

The bloodless spirits cried as Orpheus spoke such words and plucked his strings in cadence with them: Tantalus no more labored to catch his receding waves, and the Ixion wheel halted; nor did vultures continue to grasp their liver, and the Belides were free of the burden of the urn; and you, Sisyphus, sat on your rock. And then, legend has it, the cheeks of the conquered Furies were made moist with tears.

This description parallels that of Lúthien’s song in The Silmarillion:

The song of Lúthien before Mandos was the song most fair that ever in words was woven, and the song most sorrowful that ever the world shall hear. Unchanged, imperishable, it is sung still in Valinor beyond the hearing of the world [. . .].⁷

Both songs bear deep profundity. Orpheus’s song brings the underworld to a standstill, an extraordinary event considering that the punishments of Tantalus, Ixion, and others transcend time by way of being eternal. Likewise, Tolkien explicitly describes Lúthien’s song as the most beautiful ever heard on Earth. Moreover, the descriptions align in that the exact specifications of the songs are never concretely described — instead, readers must imagine what sweet melodies lie hidden beyond their reach. In particular, that Orpheus sang his song in the underworld only for the audience of Pluto and the spirits he governs parallels the idea that Lúthien’s song was heard only in Valinor, a location beyond the reach of those of the mortal realm. 

     Then, upon hearing the woes of the singers, the custodians of the dead must react to what they have heard. Ovid writes

[. . .] Nec regia coniunx

sustinet oranti nec qui regit ima negare,

Eurydicenque vocant.⁸

Neither the royal wife nor the ruler of the depths could bear to deny him begging, and they summoned Eurydice.

The manner in which Pluto and Persephone so easily yield to Orpheus’ pleas for mercy indicates the powerful sorrow expressed in his speech and song. Tolkien describes a similar scene:

And as she [Lúthien] knelt before him her tears fell upon his feet like rain upon the stones; and Mandos was moved to pity, who never before was so moved, nor has been since. Therefore he summoned Beren [. . .].⁹

The image of Lúthien at the feet of Mandos is consistent with the description of Orpheus begging Pluto and Persephone for a second chance, and Mandos, a stoic character and guardian of the dead, like Pluto, here exhibits uncharacteristic emotion.

     Notably, despite the compelling analogy between Tolkien’s story and the classical myth, the genders of the characters are swapped in The Silmarillion. One interesting explanation is the potential confluence of multiple influences on Tolkien’s work. At the beginning of the story, Lúthien is prohibited by her father from taking Beren as a suitor, and is thus briefly locked in captivity. Her almost magical escape by quickly growing her hair to use as a rope evokes Rapunzel-like imagery.¹⁰  In particular, a Jewish variant of the Rapunzel tale closely parallels this presentation in that the main character is incarcerated by her father lest she should develop a relationship with the man she loves.¹¹ This variant of the Rapunzel tale itself has been linked to a potential classical predecessor: the myth of Danaë.¹² In this tale, Danaë is imprisoned by her father out of fear that his daughter would bear a son that would kill him, as prophesied by an oracle. Curiously, Danaë’s mother is also named Eurydice. Thus, the gender reversal may speak to influence from the tale of Rapunzel, and that the tale’s classical analog contains a reference to the name “Eurydice” supports the idea that Tolkien synthesized his story from multiple classical and folk influences, perhaps prompted by the link of names. The idea of conflating two instances of the name “Eurydice” in classical mythology to produce a new tale is consistent with natural folk tale and myth evolution, which perhaps offers credibility to Tolkien’s synthetic legendarium.

     Arguably, the outcomes of the stories of Lúthien and Orpheus prove to be their most significant difference. Orpheus ultimately fails in his quest — not because his wish is left ungranted, but because he breaks the agreement by which it is granted. Ovid describes the condition as follows:

Hanc simul et legem Rhodopeius accipit Orpheus,

ne flectat retro sua lumina, donec Avernas

exierit valles: aut inrita dona futura.¹³

Rhodopeian Orpheus accepted Eurydice and at the same time a condition that he not turn back his own eyes while exiting the underworldly valleys: else the gifts would be void.

But with Eurydice trailing behind him, Orpheus eventually breaks this agreement:

Nec procul afuerunt telluris margine summae:

hic, ne deficeret, metuens avidusque videndi

flexit amans oculos; et protinus illa relapsa est.¹⁴

And now they were not far from the highest margin of the land; here, fearing lest Eurydice had withdrawn and lovingly eager to see her, he turned his eyes back; and she was slunk backward.

A key facet of his failure is that Orpheus essentially loses trust in his wife as they strive to return to the mortal world, causing him to worry and turn back. Perhaps had he remained resolute in his trust of their bond, Orpheus would have succeeded in his mission. On the other hand, in The Silmarillion, Lúthien must choose one of two options after Mandos hears her song: she may allow Beren’s spirit to pass on in death as she enjoys eternal life in Valinor, a sacred place beyond the confines of Middle-Earth; or she may return to Middle-Earth with Beren, under the condition that both of them would be subject to mortality. Tolkien explicitly mentions that the latter choice would have no

“certitude of life or joy,”¹⁵

and when Lúthien ultimately chooses this path,

“whatever grief might lie in wait, the fates of Beren and Lúthien might be joined.”¹⁶

Thus, knowing the potential consequences of her choice, Lúthien must effectively display her faith in the bond she shares with Beren. In a metaphorical sense, she elects not to look back at the place of the dead, unlike Orpheus — her eyes are set on a return to the mortal world with Beren, whatever outcome the world holds for the couple. This trust enables her to succeed in sharing more time with Beren in the mortal world, coming in contrast with the idea that Orpheus’s lack of trust in his bond with Eurydice bears responsibility for his failure. 

     In conclusion, the parallels between the stories of Lúthien and Orpheus have been illustrated, as has the fact that their confidence, or lack thereof, in their respective relationships contributes to the varying outcomes of their missions. This reading of the tale of Beren and Lúthien provides new insight because it highlights a hypothetical but successful version of the classical story of Orpheus and Eurydice. While it presents potential shortcomings of the relationship between Orpheus and Eurydice, it also amplifies the power of the bond between Beren and Lúthien — they are able to overcome obstacles that not even the mythical figures of Orpheus and Eurydice could.

Bibliography

Naso, Publius Ovidius. Metamorphoses. Edited by Hugo Magnus. Perseus Digital Library. Gotha: Friedrich Perthes, 1892. http://data.perseus.org/citations/urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi006.perseus-lat1:10.1-10.85. 

Purol, Faye H. “Rapunzel: the History, Distribution and Uses of a Fairy Tale.” Dissertation, OhioLINK, 1989. Rapunzel: the History, Distribution and Uses of a Fairy Tale. 

Tolkien, John Ronald Reuel. The Silmarillion. Edited by Christopher Tolkien. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin, 2001.