Last Night I was in Rivendell
by Indis
Since I first read the LotR, back in 1978, one of the things that
always grieved me is the thought that the Elves have left us. In my
darkest hours I would think of them, their beauty, their wisdom, their
stillness, their connection with nature, and I would wish to have them
back amongst us, to spread all these qualities and make the world a
place of beauty and peace…and yes, I have read the Sil and I know that
even the Elves fought their wars. But they learned and developed and
grew into the still powerful but also light-filled beings that were the
symbol of all that I thought was lost for us.
But last night I caught a glimpse of how it must have been in the Hall
of Fire, when they assembled in Rivendell to listen to tales and songs…
Here in Donegal we have the annual Earagail Arts Festival, two weeks
filled with arts events all over the County, with theatre, music, art
exhibitions, workshops, poetry readings, movies and so on. And last
night I had the great pleasure to visit a concert of a fantastic local
choir, who performed together with 5 members of the wonderful and
well-known band Clannad and the Brennan Sisters who come from a village
about 15 minutes from where I live. Now, the Brennan Sisters, as all
the Brennan family, are greatly gifted with beautiful voices, and one
of them has reached a bit of international recognition…her name is
Enya!!! That, I must say, came as some surprise, because I did not
expect her to come home to perform on this occasion. But she did, and
she sang together with her sisters and with the choir. No fuss was
being made about her, she was just there as part of the choir, which
was so lovely to see.
Now, imagine the evening: the concert took place in a church with a
high ceiling, lit by large numbers of candles, whose light intensified
while darkness slowly came, it was filled with happy people in solemn
mood, and then the music started: a wonderful, nearly perfect choir,
singing all these old and beautiful Irish hymns, laments and tale
telling songs, mostly in Gaelic, which one could easily take for
Elvish, and then you heard these soft and ethereal voices, Enya and her
sisters, and the choir raised a powerful, yet soul-touching voice, the
harp and the flute just doing the last bit to get the tears flowing.
And I dreamt myself away into Elrond’s Hall of Fire…
“ ‘This is the Hall of Fire,” said the wizard. ‘Here you will hear many
songs and tales – if you can keep awake. But except on high days it
usually stands empty and quiet, and people come here who wish for
peace, and thought.’ “
“ At first the beauty of the melodies and of the interwoven words in
elven-tongues, even though he understood them little, held him in a
spell, as soon as he began to attend to them. Almost it seemed that the
words took shape, and visions of far lands and bright things that he
had never yet imagined opened out before him; and the firelit hall
became like a golden mist above seas of foam that sighed above the
margins of the world…”
(J.R.R. Tolkien, The LotR)
The evening was unbelievable, too beautiful for words, at least for my
words.
But, as long as there are people who can create something of such
stunning beauty and as long as there are people who come to listen and
enjoy, some part of the Elvish spirit must still be here…
