In the second half of our time with Narvi, we break down the defining factor that makes this mysterious Dwarven craftsman so important. And no, it's not his incredible skill. It's not his enduring fame, either. It's his friendship ...with an Elf.
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In the second half of our time with Narvi, we break down the defining factor that makes this mysterious Dwarven craftsman so important. And no, it's not his incredible skill. It's not his enduring fame, either. It's his friendship ...with an Elf.
Help cover costs and keep the content coming! https://www.buymeacoffee.com/thehalfling
Hi. Welcome to the Halfling. I’m your host, Jaron Pak, and this is episode 25, “Narvi, the Elf-friend.”
Last time we started unpacking the little-known, barely recorded history of the Dwarven craftsman Narvi. We read the quick summary in “Unfinished Tales,” which describes Narvi as a “Dwarf of Khazad-dûm, maker of the West-gate, close friend of Celebrimbor of Eregion.” We also set the stage for why Narvi was able to achieve this trifecta of impressive achievements. As far as the “Dwarf of Khazad-dûm” bit is concerned, let’s recall that Narvi is a master smith in the thriving Dwarven mansion of Khazad-dûm well before it’s overrun by a Balrog. He’s also good friends with the Elven lord of nearby Eregion, a ring-making fella named Celebrimbor, and together they team up to make and decorate the West-gates of Khazad-dûm, an entrance commonly referred to as the “Doors of Durin.” And that’s where we’re picking up the story today.
One question that naturally comes to mind here, at least for myself, is why they would be building doors this far into the history of Khazad-dûm. I mean, aren’t there already doors that the Dwarves have been using for ages by this point? The answer to that question is yes, the Dwarves obviously have doors to their homes. But in this case, they’re located on the other side of the mountain. When Khazad-dûm is founded, it’s very early on. The Dwarven father Durin discovers the eastern area first. This is the geographic area where the Fellowship leaves the mines after escaping from the Balrog. Durin and his people begin delving into the east side of the mountains pretty much at the beginning of recorded time. Over the centuries, the Dwarves stay busier than badgers and build and expand until their home becomes really big and quite famous. But it seems, in spite of its size, for a long time, Khazad-dûm doesn’t have any designated outlets on the west side of the mountains — at least, none that are public knowledge. Remember, the Dwarves do a lot of things in secret, so it’s totally possible that there are some doors hidden on the west side, but they aren’t mentioned anywhere. Anyway, in “The Fellowship of the Ring,” Gandalf explains that the door that we’re all familiar with and that opens to the tune of “Mellon” is actually created for Celebrimbor’s folk, that is, the Elves of the nearby region known as Hollin or Eregion. The wizard explains that “the West-door was made chiefly for their use in their traffic with the Lords of Moria. Those were happier days, when there was still close friendship at times between folk of different race, even between Dwarves and Elves.”
You know, I actually want to take a minute to talk about this friendship element right here, right now, partly because it’s really important in Tolkien’s writings. The varying friendship and antipathy between the two races of Elves and Dwarves creates a lot of drama and leads to some major events along the way. But that isn’t the only reason. Remember the fact that we’re here to talk about Narvi? Yeah, it’s easy to forget because, well, there just really isn’t much out there about the guy. But that makes every little mention that we get that much more important. And one of the main themes of Narvi’s recorded existence is that he’s friends with an Elf. Like, Legolas and Gimli level friends. The kind of stuff that’s as rare as seeing and Elf and a human get hitched. Off the top of my head, I can only think of one time in the First Age when an Elf really bonds with his Dwarven friends, and it’s the very unpleasant story of a nasty Elven dude named Eöl. In the Third Age we’ve got Legolas and Gimli. And in the Second Age? There’s Celebrimbor and Narvi. I’m sorry if I’m forgetting someone, but my point is, Elves and Dwarves coexisting is fairly common. When they bond and become best friends, though? That’s utterly unusual — and it’s usually a pretty big deal.
To put it into context, let’s take a quick look at why these two people groups are at odds so often. In “The Silmarillion,” when it’s introducing the Dwarves and Elves in their respective early-Middle-earth settings, it specifically states that, “Ever cool was the friendship between the Naugrim and the Eldar, though much profit they had one of the other…” Just as a quick clarification, the Eldar refers to the Elves and the Naugrim, well, they’re the Dwarves, obviously. The word Naugrim is an Elvish nickname they’re given early on which means “the Stunted People.” Yeah, not a great start to a healthy relationship. They’re also called the Gonnhirrim, which means “Masters of Stone.” At least that one’s a bit more respectful. Clearly the Dwarves’ collective reputation as delvers and miners precedes them, even early on. Alright, names aside, the text I just read from goes on to point out that this aloof attitude is already there before some of the really nasty stuff takes place between the two groups. And it makes sense. See, when Ilúvatar finds Aüle, the Valar is making the Dwarves against his Creator’s wishes. Ilúvatar shows mercy and gives the Dwarves their own independent life, but he adds the chilling line, “But when the time comes I will awaken them, and they shall be to thee as children; and often strife shall arise between thine and mine, the children of my adoption and the children of my choice.”
After these prescient words set the tone, the Dwarves and Elves proceed to fulfill the prophecies by butting heads over and over again. In the First Age, several landmark events take place that really polarize the two races. There are treacherous moments, including a bunch of Dwarves murdering a stingy Elven king, and they fight multiple battles, one of which features Ents helping Elves ambush and annihilate a rogue Dwarvish army.
Suffice it to say, a lot of blood is spilled between Dwarves and Elves during the First Age. It’s where we get those subtle conversations and little digs that the Dwarves and Elves level at one another throughout “The Lord of the Rings” and “The Hobbit.” Personally, my favorite summary of the feelings between the two peoples is in “The Fellowship of the Ring” book, right before the company reaches the Doors of Durin. As Gandalf explains the history of the friendly gateway and the way it connected Elvish Eregion with the Dwarvish Dwarrowdelf, he says the line we’ve already heard about how those were happier days when close friendship still existed between Elves and Dwarves. At this point, Gimli and Legolas both chime in, “‘It was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship waned,’ said Gimli. ‘I have not heard that it was the fault of the Elves,’ said Legolas. ‘I have heard both,’ said Gandalf; ‘and I will not give judgement now. But I beg you two, Legolas and Gimli, at least to be friends, and to help me.’”
I love that. Gandalf has a way of cutting to the quick, doesn’t he? He sees right through the veiled comments and points out that all of his years of wisdom and hob-nobbing with Dwarves and Elves has revealed to him the same thing that is at the heart of every long-standing quarrel — two sides that are both at fault …and, critically, are blinded by biased bitterness. How’s that for a nice Dwarvish-Elvish alliteration to help memorize the reason for the two group’s unwarranted antipathy?
Okay, enough of that. Seriously, though, for all the animosity, the two peoples do have their connecting points every so often — and it’s a bond that is particularly strong between the Dwarves and the group of Elves called the Noldor. This group includes most of the movers and shakers of Middle-earth history. Fëanor is a Noldor Elf that fashions the hallowed jewels called the Silmarils, which “The Silmarillion” is named after and which hold supernatural power. He also probably made the seeing stones called the Palantíri. The guy is a bit unhinged, but he also is the unchallenged master-craftsman in all of Tolkien’s writings. Galadriel is one of the Noldor, too. Gil-galad, Elrond, and Celebrimbor have Noldorin blood. Even Aragorn can trace some of his history back to the Elven people group. These Elves are a big deal, guys. The Noldor are also well known not just as a politically relevant group writing the history books. They’re famous for their collective interest as smiths and craftsmen. This is important for what we’re talking about here because, well, it gives them a common interest with the Dwarves. In fact, in “The Silmarillion” it even says about the Dwarves, “The gems of the Noldor they praised above all other wealth.” So, it should come as no surprise that Celembribor, who is descended from Fëanor and is regarded as one of the greatest Noldorin smiths of all time, should hit it off with the Dwarves.
And yet, I can’t help getting to this point and still feeling a bit unfinished. Particularly if we’re talking about Narvi’s part in the whole deal. In comparison, Celebrimbor is a pretty underdeveloped character. And yet, as we’ll see soon, there is still a lot of information out there regarding the smith. And, to be fair, he really is that big of a deal. He deserves the attention. But, if I could be allowed to draw a completely personal comparison, it feels to me like Narvi plays the Radagast to Celebrimbor’s Gandalf, he’s the Celeborn to Galadriel, the Arwen to Aragorn. He’s the very important person who lives in the shadows. The support character who is equal parts critical and irrelevant. He’s utterly important and yet forgotten. In fact, one of the few lines about Narvi in the text is Gimli literally saying, “Narvi and his craft and all his kindred have vanished from the earth.” That just about sums up this master Dwarven craftsman who is, pardon the pun, dwarfed by his Elvish colleague.
And yet, for all the irrelevance and lack of attention that his character gets, the fact still stands that Narvi is still coming up in conversation thousands of years after his death. Gimli isn’t puzzled by the name. He knows who Narvi is and knows that his knowledge and his guild of fellow craftsman are long gone.
Not only is Narvi remembered, but his role is one that supercedes any degree of door-making, ring-making, or any other craft that takes place in Middle-earth. Narvi goes well beyond sharing professional knowledge and networking with craftsman from another race. The Dwarf lays down his personal biases and forges a friendship with an Elf — something that is both rare and powerful in the annals of Tolkien’s writings. It’s because of Dwarves like Narvi that Gandalf can say something like this about the secret West-gate of Moria in “The Fellowship of the Ring,” “In the days of Durin they were not secret. They usually stood open and doorwards sat here. But if they were shut, any who knew the opening word could speak it and pass in.” These aren’t secret gates representing walls between two peoples. They’re a sign of entrance, interdependency, and trust.
The last note I want to add here is about the “Rings of Power” adaptation. We know that the show is going to feature Celebrimbor in a leading role. Elrond will be traveling around forging friendships and acting as an ambassador to the Dwarves. Prince Durin IV will be helping to lead Khazad-dûm. But as of this writing, we don’t know if the oft-overlooked character of Narvi will ever see the light of day on the silver screen — or at least the streaming one. I hope he does. I hope a solid chunk of the story is devoted to developing this small-yet-critical corner of Dwarvish culture that overlaps with the Elves. I hope we get to see a Dwarf and an Elf not just get along but become besties as they bond over their craft, much like Legolas and Gimli do so as they fight their way through the War of the Ring thousands of years later. It’s an underdeveloped narrative element that would fit very well into the “Rings of Power” story, I think. And it’s one that could easily take the spotlight as a powerful testament to what two people can do when they lay aside their differences, ignore their prejudices, and are willing to look for ways to bond and build a life together.
That’s it for now. Until next time, friends.