Children Of Hurin [Hardcover]

Just when you think they can't find another draft, note, poem or shopping list written by J.R.R. Tolkien, something new pops up.

But in the case of "The Children of Húrin," the result is a surprisingly solid and lucid story, full of familiar characters from other books about the history of Middle-Earth. Tolkien's timeless, formal prose and richly-imagined world make this novella pop from the pages, especially without his son's stuffier footnotes.

It opens with the story of Huon and Hurin, heroic brothers who lived back in the first age. But when battling the terrible Morgoth (the Middle-Earth Satan), Huor is slain and Hurin is taken prisoner by Morgoth, who torments and curses him. The Easterlings overrun his lands, and in fear for her son and unborn baby, Hurin's wife Morwen sends her son away to be fostered in Doriath.

And so Turin grows up in Doriath, until the day when he feels the need to go out and defend his distant family. His adventures take him through Middle-Earth, encountering great elves, orcs, lives with outlaws, and Mim the petty-dwarf. But his life is cursed by Morgoth -- as is the mysterious girl he falls in love with -- and his downfall will be one of horror and disgrace, even as he slays the most terrible dragon in Middle-Earth, Glaurung.

This book is actually a jigsaw puzzle -- Tolkien worked on the interrelated stories and poetry throughout his lifetime, but he never quite finished a solid cohesive story. So Christopher Tolkien cobbled together these various stories with Tolkien's unfinished works, pasted them together, and the result was "The Children of Húrin."

Surprisingly, the resulting story is very solid and strong, with a darker finale than "Lord of the Rings." While the main storyline is about Hurin and his son, it's sprinkled with familiar characters, such as Melian and Morgoth. And the rich, tragic storyline is full of noble elves, great human heroes, ancient lost cities and even a vengeful, talking sword.

And Tolkien's writing is somewhere between his "Silmarillion" style and his "Lord of the Rings" style -- it's formal and archaic, but he includes strong descriptions ("A flash of white swallowed in the dark chasm, a cry lost in the roaring of the river") and dialogue ("You are one of the fools that spring would not mourn if you perished in winter". One of the best scenes is when Morgoth and Hurin argue about theology and the "circles of the world" on a tower.

Despite the formality of his writing, the characters really pop out of their stories -- Turin is fierce, passionate and tragic, and his last scenes are absolutely stunning. His noble father and moody mother also come across well, and we get plenty of other colourful characters, from snitty elves to the evil Morgoth himself, who torments Hurin by forcing him to see everything Morgoth sees.

Since the actual story is only about two hundred pages long, it's fleshed out considerably by Christopher Tolkien's introduction and appendices, which explain about the writing and construction of the stories and poems, as well as a pronunciation guide, and a series of family trees.

And Alan Lee provides several beautiful drawings (both black-and-white and color), including Doriath's forests, eagles carrying Hurin and Huor, elven smiths, the dragon, Elf warriors, and finally the death of Turin, over a grey river under some burned trees.

Despite its brevity, "The Children of Húrin" is a stunning, brilliant piece of work, full of Tolkien's vibrant storytelling and memorable characters. Definitely a must-read.

There's no way I can top some of the other reviews posted here, so I'll focus on a different question: "Should I, someone who knows little about Tolkien, buy this book for a friend who's a Tolkien fan?"

The short answer is yes. As Tolkien's major tales go, this one ranks in third place after Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit (or second for those who don't like the children's flavor of The Hobbit). Unlike The Silmarillion, this is a genuine story with a narrative and character development. The only deficiency is that, without those hobbits, it lacks the light and comic touch they provide, giving it a grimmer and more fatalistic feel. Unless he reads Tolkien only for the hobbits, your friend will be delighted with your gift.

Perhaps the only other Tolkien work that would top The Children of Hurin in value--and one you ought to consider if your friend doesn't have it already--is The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien. It's a collection of Tolkien's letters over a six decade span (from 1914 to 1973), and it provides the definitive background to Middle earth. When I wrote the entry on "Magic in Middle earth" for The J. R. R. Tolkien Encyclopedia, I used it almost exclusively. It was far better to let Tolkien explain what he meant than to make guesses of my own.

--Michael W. Perry, author of Untangling Tolkien (a book-length LOTR chronology)

The Children of Hurin by J.R.R. Tolkien

I'm a rabid fan of Tolkien, having started with The Hobbit in my teen years, and over the years I think I've read and re-read The Lord of The Rings 3 times. My son is finally old enough that I can read The Hobbit to him, and he is now as captivated by Tolkien's storytelling as I was. The Simarillion is more difficult to read because there is no single character or story thread to tie the beginning to the end, except the inscrutable and immortal enemies. Taken as "short stories" however, it can be digested with some academic effort, and it makes subsequent re-readings of LOTR more enjoyable.

It seemed likely that The Children of Hurin would be more like LOTR than The Simarillion, since the struggles of a single family should focus one's attention upon individual characters throughout the book. I find myself disappointed, because instead, The Children of Hurin is a cataloguing of events more like the Simarillion. The struggles and events in the lives of these characters are confronted as events alone, not as their feelings, thoughts, nor even their words. The dialogue in Hurin, what little there is, is stilted and dull. It is full of lofty declarations and the weight of duty; rarely do the characters share friendly or family moments together.

If I may use an example to illustrate my point, take this exchange between Turin and Sador, best friends about 8 years old:

Turin: "...I shall go as a soldier with an Elf-king as soon as I am able, as you did Labadal."

Sador: "You may learn much of them. They are a fair fold and wonderful, and they have a power over the hearts of Men... In their light we are dimmed, or we burn with too quick a flame, and the weight of our doom lies heavier on us."

Oof, the burden of fate lies heavily on these kids, doesn't it? Even in the Lord of the Rings, Tolkien takes the time to introduce us to our main characters with less lugubrious language. Especially because of their deadly fates, we must be able to identify with our main characters before we can suffer with them.

This is the main reason that I really could not "get into" the story of Hurin's children. It would have improved if the war fought in the early chapters of the book could be the basis of character development instead. However it, too, falls victim to the event cataloguing featured in the first chapters. Not once is the experience of one warrior recounted in the battle - strategic decisions are reported only. Where are the equal measures of sport and horror in killing that was important to Tolkien's earlier works? In LOTR, Gimli and Legolas humorously compete in the orc body count, in TCoH, Hurin impassively gives orders, even as his king is cut in half by the axe of a balrog. Vengeance? Grief? Any reaction?

Bottom line: The story of the Children of Hurin is a tale set in Tolkien's Middle Earth where Elves, Men, Dwarves and Orcs fight for power, a theme that is common in Tolkien's work. What's missing from this one is any HUMANITY in the characters, a surprising oversight given the heights of glory and wells of despair experienced by the characters in Tolkien's earlier books. The fun of Middle Earth comes as much from the adventures and parties as the wars fought over its control. Tolkien thought it vitally important to have them all in equal measure, but sadly, not in this book.