I hope I won’t be looked down on for discussing so early in the book things like the ultimate identity of Elves. But chapter three is unusually memorable to me from my first reading as an adolescent because I’d never felt magic before like I did in the scenes with Gildor and the High Elves.
Chapter three is a bit slow in the beginning. Of course, in the recent movie, the drama is heightened and the Black Rider scenes are given a greater role.
But the magic does come and the slow start of the narrative is rewarded when the fear of death is expelled by clear singing voices, pure and untainted by evil. The voices cause even a Nazgul, a Black Rider, to depart.
Elves are not just any beings and Gildor is not just any Elf. Of the house of Finarphir, and through him Finrod Felagund, Gildor and his kin Glorfindel are among the noblest Elves in Middle Earth.
The breakthrough into true magic is near the end of the chapter. The party of three is invited to walk with the Elves, a high honor, but only because Gildor hears of the Black Riders and perceives that they are seeking Frodo. Sam is already smitten with Elves, but Pippin too finds the merriment with Elves in the wood, trouble all forgotten, to be beyond any experience he has had before. Sam remembers it, even after all the adventures and perils, as one of the chief events of his life.
The fire and singing are in a green wood, in a wide space like a hall, roofed by the boughs of trees. The fruit and bread and drink of the Elves is sweeter than any they have had. The singing is other-wordly, filled with the light upon the elf-faces, and the sound of voices so various and so beautiful..
Gildor speaks with a wisdom that makes me wonder if Tolkien didn’t have in mind the Proverbs and wisdom tradition of Israel. Elves seldom give unguarded advice, says Gildor, since all courses may run ill. And wisdom knows that one course and its opposite may each work in different circumstances or not work at all. Wise sayings dispensed by dullards are as dangerous as brambles in the hand of a drunk. The wise know time and chance happen to us all.
At the end, as soon as Gildor is done talking with Frodo, a deep sleep falls on him. Is this Gildor’s doing? Is it part of what he means by power for good?
Those who get through all the mythology and consider the identity of higher beings in Tolkien’s world know that Elves are not angelic beings, though they seem so to hobbits and men. What might we say Elves are? I will have to keep seeking out their identity. The road goes ever on.