Work Text:
INTRODUCTION
The tengwar is an alphabet that was used in several ancient languages, most notably the high Quenya liturgical language of ancient Numenor, called Quenya or Qenya, of which many inscriptions and texts survive. Tengwar is the default script for all languages in the ‘elven’ linguistic grouping, though exact signs and their exact pronunciation change from script to script and from age to age. The word ‘tengwar’ is a plural word meaning ‘letters’ (though can shift to singular when referring to the whole alphabet as a unit); a single ‘tengwar’ is a ‘tengwa’.
The tengwar alphabet was a real alphabet which saw real use in ages past. Whether one thinks ‘elves’ and the legends assigned to them were ever real is a matter of study (that is, what you think depends on how much studying you’ve done). Incontestably, old Numenor was real, and incontestably, in old Numenor, they believed that elves were real and that the languages and letters that they used had come from their elven allies and ancestors.
Tengwar are not used commonly for any modern language (though we see letters derived from them in several). Fortunately, however, there is a large corpus of books, scripts, records, monuments, stones, and carvings from ages past that provide examples of tengwar in their prime which we can use to study the alphabet, meaning that our knowledge of how it once was used is rich.
The tengwar is a phonetic alphabet, that is, each tengwa has an assigned pronunciation. ‘Tinco’, the letter written as a stick and a single right-facing curl, is pronounced ‘T’. But it also has a proper name, not just an exaggeration of its sound (‘tee’) but a word associated with the letter that shows off the sound (‘tinco’). ‘Tinco’ is a Quenya word that means ‘metal.’ Each tengwa has a similar name, some with easily understood meanings, some opaque, their names associated with concepts or figures alien in our modern time.
It appears that the names of the tengwar are quite ancient. All are Quenya words and all are preserved in their original (so even Numenorean sources will insist). Several Numenorean sources make the claim that the Tengwar was the first letters made, and they were made by the elves, even one elder elf from the legendary lost western continent, who drew them into being from out of the curls of rising smoke from the first burning fire (or forge, as the poet Hyarma claims is the real truth). Their legendary origins aside, for ages past the tengwar were absolutely used as a common alphabet for many languages, for purposes as mundane as keeping records or dashing off notes, as lofty as great poetry and tragic dramas, as practical as drafting diplomatic letters or writing primers, and as strange as telling fortunes.
The practice of using the tengwar as tools for divination is well-attested. Such rituals appear in no less than a half-dozen Numenorean tragedies and dramas, are mentioned in varied epistles recorded over millennia, and are referenced in countless examples of poetry and song. The ‘tengwar poems’, staggering artistic accomplishments that use the divinatory meanings of the tengwar to write incredibly tightly constructed lines of verse, are nearly undeniable proof that the given names of tengwar (their ‘word’ meanings) became in time a common clutch of symbols that were used for magical and divinatory purposes in many times and civilizations. The most common method–the basics are clear though details vary–was for a person to have a set of thirty-some stones or ‘discs’, each with a single tengwa carved into it, which were cast or thrown in a set pattern and the result read as a ‘map’ of symbols which indicated a way forward.
How much people of the past ‘believed’ in the power of carved letters to tell the future seems to have varied. When looking into the past, it is always sane to assume that the people of any time or place have had beliefs as rich and varied as our own, and they did not all happen to believe whatever the one singular writer you have read from that time period says they all believed (have you checked to see whether or not his work was paid for by a contemporary political or religious figure, by the way?). It is likely that some people of the past, like the wan and anxious figures of later Numenorean tragedies, believed in and feared the ability of the ancient signs to reveal secrets unlocked from time. It is likely that some did not believe in such things at all and instead thought fortune-telling was just coincidence and wishful thinking, as the Numenorean poet Izkallagh says directly in their ‘Dust Rises’ cycle. It is possible that many thought just as a modern dabbler would, that the tengwar have no inherent magic power but can ease secrets out of the subconscious, encourage the brain to work in different ways and make connections it otherwise would not have; in essence, that they reveal the present, not the future. And it is certain that in that far, far distant Age, that some had antiquarian interest and the hearts of scholars and that they studied tengwar and their divinatory principles to be closer to those ancestral, forgotten elves.
Whether any particular individual believed in the divinatory power of tengwar or not, enough did that their use in that endeavor is attested to have existed for centuries and theorized to have existed for Ages. Dozens of texts give us dramatized narrations of divinations, some report results, some play with specific tengwar and their meanings for poetic effect—nowhere, unfortunately, is there a simple manual for their use. Below I have compiled the facts as we know them, anything attested more than once or safely theorized from inference. Drawing from many sources I try to identify a ‘midpoint’ or most likely use or interpretation, though I urge the reader to keep in mind that I am forced to synthesize sources from across years, regions, and opinions. There are scant and tantalizing inscriptions from the First Age, outlier mentions from the early Fourth Age. There is a wealth of Numenorean sources, there are devastatingly mysterious poetic allusions from the ‘silvan elf’ civilization, scholarly and sober treatises from late Gondor, carvings that claim to have come from lost, early elven nations, fortune-telling sets found buried in small villages with ostensibly illiterate horse-riding populations. Even among our Numenorean authors there is a range of opinion about the use and interpretation of divinatory tengwar from political exiles living in expatriate towns on the continental shore and from the most illustrious and important members of the late State Religion (or ‘Melkor Cult’, as the most… shall we say… picture-heavy publications like to call it).
My synthesis inevitably leaves much out and yet still has to make some assumptions. I do not presume I have identified the oldest, truest interpretation of the tengwar. I have done my best and I invite others to do the same.
To acknowledge my most obvious bias, I am a scholar of Numenorean history and religion, so I often favor texts from Numenor. But in the process of compiling this work I have found myself more and more intrigued by the elusive potential ancient elven interpretations whenever I found them. Many of the tengwar found their meanings slightly shifted with time; if there was a slight translation over the ages, I tend to prefer the Numenorean interpretation simply because it is the most-off attested (though this is necessarily a sample bias). But in the instances when I could not deny that the later Numenoreans and the earlier elven civilizations obviously had entirely different understandings of any particular tengwa, there are places where I chose to present two interpretations, an ‘older’ and a ‘younger’ one. This, too, is a simplification, but a necessary one. All of the tengwar are more varied than I can possibly present here; I encourage study and time spent with the source materials to see what these symbols and concepts meant in their own times, places, and cultures.
THE BASICS OF USE
Tengwar do not have a definite ‘form’, being letters. For use in divination, however, texts imply they had to be carved on something small enough to be held in the palm but hefty enough to be thrown, tossed, and to clatter against each other when thrown. Various sources have tengwar ‘discs’ for divination carved out of wood, stone, silver, gold, and steel. One intriguing source claims that the eldest way, the elven way, was to carve each tengwa into cut sections of a single fallen alder or birch limb (never removed from the tree, always freely fallen), but another claims that the first tengwar set was etched into silver, so there is no definite ‘right’ way here. (I favor the claim that metal was used first for a practical reason—the tengwar are curved letters, with bow-like shapes, exactly the thing which is hardest to carve on wood. There are also three tengwa whose names are some kind of metal and only one meaning ‘tree’, for what it’s worth.)
A beginner who just wants to try it all out without carving a set of thirty-some stones might just write the tengwar on slips of paper or cardstock as a testing set, but I do recommend stone or wood if one is interested in regular or serious use. The effect of their heaviness in the hands encourages the brain to take their symbolic weight more seriously.
Since in most forms of divinatory rituals, the tengwar are ‘cast’ wildly instead of being placed delicately, some might be worried about an ‘reverse’ tengwa, like a topside-down card in a modern cardstock fortune-telling set. There is no concept of a ‘reverse’ tengwa. There is the face-down or ‘unlit’ tengwa, that is, one that has fallen with its carved side facing down and is as such unreadable, as tengwar discs are only carved on one side. (More on ‘lit’ and ‘unlit’ tengwar later.) But there is no such thing as a tengwa being read differently because of which side is facing up.
Many tengwa, when rotated, simply become another tengwa. Ando ‘reversed’ is Anga. This leads to the interesting and rare possibility of readings that have the same tengwa twice, as an Ando and an Anga facing the same way is just two of one of them. You can see this in some rare examples in literature, such as in The Low Dark Valley, when the character of The Dove reads ‘Numen’ twice and cuts off her reading early, seeing no need for any further insight. This turns out to be foolish–after she flies west, the Crow sees that the next tengwa to be read would have been Formen, which the Dove would have surely liked to know.
That said, because of the ‘hard stop’ effect of the ‘Umbar’, and the understandable urge to not risk two chances in one reading of getting Umbar (see its entry below to understand why), many tengwar sets also simply placed a dot or line ‘underneath’ the letter so the reader knew which tengwa was which. Though, for reasons I will get into when I describe traditional practice, ‘knowing’ which tengwa is which on sight is not necessarily desirable and may even be undesirable. If you don’t want confusion when starting out, just place your discs down neatly (or even write the names of the tengwar on your practice discs) instead of tossing them around so you can’t get confused.
There is a debate in the texts about whether one reads alone, with attendants, or for someone else. One source vociferously claims that the ancient elves would only read alone, and only for themselves; it was taboo to read ‘for’ someone else. If one read to or for someone else, the ‘threads’ of fate between reader and subject would tangle, which was seen as inappropriate, even suggestive.
In actuality there is a wealth of examples of a person reading either 1. For one’s self, but with attendants helping them, or 2. Reading someone else’s fortune for them. I think it is clear that all of these practices existed at different times and places, though some may have been seen as taboo in different times and places as well. Perhaps there was a particular elven society in which tandem reading was taboo but it was fine in others. I think the safest method is to first try alone, reading for one’s self. Two interested parties might read each other’s fortune if both feel confident (and have some emotional closeness already), or a person might read their own fortune with the aid of some assistants for greater results (I will go into detail about what the assistants would do historically below).
Something that was never done (or else no records of it happening have survived) was for a person, alone, to read a fortune for someone not present. We see ‘nonconsensual’ divinations in a few texts, as when in the Long History the bold witch Naurainis bellows out the results of a divination to Ar-Pharazon, cast in his throne room, before her head is cut off by his guards mid-reading. This very literal speaking of truth to power that always greatly appealed to me, and demonstrates how such things have power with or without ‘belief’—rather, it is understanding and connection that is required. But to read someone’s fortune in their absence seems to just not be done. Details about others may come out in the course of a divination, but one should start with the self or a willing participant.
The time for a reading is either night or sunset, with night preferred. (The darkness is actually integral, as I will explain below.) Dress or other accoutrement are hardly even mentioned, though some have theorized that scattered mentions of removing jewelry and outer garments hints a lost ancient practice of being naked for the reading. I disagree—cloaks and sleeves and various kinds of jewelry are mentioned enough in the texts as well that I do not believe there ever was a firm preference for garb or lack of garb. One intriguing poem mentions a ‘diviner’s garb,’ implying there may have once been some associated costume, but alas, it gives no details. Dress as you will.
Finally, what to make of the elusive, tantalizing suggestion that a certain state of intoxication was preferred for a time as preparation for a ‘true’ reading in late Numenor, especially in the State Religion? Several texts mention state priests becoming first ‘intoxicated by the adder’ before preforming a reading, a euphemism that shows up in other contexts in the State Religion. We do not know if the ‘adder’ was some kind of concoction made with actual diluted venom, as some have suggested, or a brew made with some plant of fungus or other substance with hallucinatory properties that earned its epithet by being deadly when overused, or a smoke from a preferred and now-lost incense (incense and herbal lists suggest they had many plants now extinct that had religious uses), or any other kind of salacious assumption based on the desire for the cults of the past to have sex, drugs, sacrifice, ect. I like essay writer (and contemporary political adversary) Lhonnama’s take on the subject: “The priests of the cult imbibe some bitter substance—I know and care not what—to at great length and with great effort achieve the state of clarity and wisdom that I find in the moments of contentment between drying a dish and putting it away.’
Which state of clarity, contentment, and knowledge does she allude to? It is that thing which gave the reading of tengwar, if you allow the term, its magic. In my description of the reading ritual, I will pry loose the latch of its secrets, though the opening of the box is up to you.
RITUALS
BASIC DIVINATION RITUAL: This simple ritual is essentially a beginner’s practice that I have distilled from the elements of ancient divination rituals as we know them. My intention here is to present something that is, as best as I can manage, both true to the spirit of Numenorean tengwar divination and possible for an average person to try with minimal set-up.
After waiting for nightfall, the reader selects a dark, empty room where they will not be interrupted. They select a reading place, a clean table and chair being a fine option. Two candles are placed on the table, one is lit and one is left unlit.
If the reader is religious, they might pray to or invoke their deities for guidance and protection before they begin their reading. Then the reader clarifies a present issue or question in their mind to present to the tengwar they are about to read, opens their eyes, and begins.
Three tengwar discs (stones, papers, what have you) are taken out of a dark bag and put onto the table/into the light. One is placed under the lit candle, one under the unlit candle, and one between the two. The tengwa that is placed beneath the lit candle is the 'lit' tengwa, representing things seen, known; this tengwa applies directly to whatever issue is currently on the reader's mind. The tengwa under the unlit candle is the 'unlit' tengwa, and it applies directly to what the reader is not thinking—that is, subconscious worries and forces. The third, between the two, is the 'mingling' tengwa; between the conscious and the unconscious, this tengwa is the one that may predict the future. Balancing things known and unknown into a thin slice of totality, the mingling tengwa indicates something coming for the reader soon.
The reader first considers the ‘lit’ tengwa, pondering how it may apply to the question at hand (feel free to ponder aloud if no one will overhear, spoken word forces the brain to finish its thoughts). Then the unlit tengwa is considered similarly, then the one in the mingling. Then all three are considered together, and what they mean as a ‘map’ of the present situation (And potentially the way forward) is put into words.
Then the reader thanks their deities, replaces the tengwar into the bag, and douses their candle. At this point they may find they have excess spiritual energy–consider spinning this new energy and knowledge into another ritual if you are that way, or else doing something creative if you aren’t.
RECONSTRUCTED DIVINATION RITUAL: This is my best attempt to produce what I believe is a ‘standard’ (or ‘mean’) traditional method for using tengwar for fortune-telling. It is largely based on Numenorean texts; though we know that elves used them for divination in the First Age and potentially before, and though we have surviving information about each tengwa’s meaning and associations, disappointingly, no full explanatory record of the practice/method of divination remains. We do however have enough remaining accounts of Numenorean divination that I can present a fairly accurate method here.
The reader first seeks a high place at night, traditionally a hilltop under the starlight or a designated high seat. A light is carried from the home to the designated place, a torch if outside, a candle inside. Assure, if you are inside, that the room is dark before you begin.
A place is set with a cloth or cloak to serve as the reading space. The light is set up so that it shines down on the reading space (if one has company, a designated light-bearer holds the light above; this is deduced by a handmaiden fulfilling that role in both Erdamaiwe of Tompolle’s ‘Bear’ trilogy of tragedies and in the ‘Acts of the Kings’ tomb inscriptions). Another person is set to ‘judge’ the perimeter (assure that it is empty) and then to ‘watch’ it (assure it remains so). (If you have no attendants, remember to keep some awareness for your surroundings and any interruptions—an uninvited watcher warps the fortune). Though we sometimes see further attendants in rare cases, they are not designated further roles.
All shut their eyes and keep them shut for the next few steps. If religious, the reader invokes their deity or deities. (In the texts this element is consistent, though what the invocation looks like can be as brief as ‘She called upon Varda’ or ‘He invoked Vana and Orome’, or ‘Then they called upon the spirits of that place for their protection,’ or, in the Aldaron, Hallaferen’s long invocation of several Maiar to give her particular kinds of insight and discernment in her reading. I presume this step is intended to be personal. If you are not religious, I presume you know what you do for focus and clarity instead.) Wait to be certain of their presence before continuing. If uncertain, continue at your own risk.
The reader thrusts their hand into the box or trunk containing the tengwar and seizes a handful (with the size of traditional tengwar discs this may be as few as four or five). They cast that handful onto the cloak. Then a second and third handful may be grasped and cast. (You can throw as many as you like, but having approximately six to nine down at the end is good.) Once all casts are made, the reader stretches out both their hands before them, over the tengwar, and says in a whisper, ‘As fate wills the leaves have fallen, cast by the wind; as I have been blessed by [deity] with eyes to see I shall mark them.’ (This particular invocation is again taken from the Aldarion—the translation of the word ‘fate’ is contentious and there are similar examples in literature with slightly different wording. This can be altered to suit.)
Then the reader opens their eyes. After that, the reader engages in something alternate texts have described as ‘soft sight’, ‘reading with the soul’, and ‘sliding over [the tengwar]’. What this means is that the reader does not see every tengwa immediately, not clearly, not at once. The light should be low enough that they cannot see all. The eye should be forced to slide over the tengwar and discern them one by one as it adjusts to the low light, recognizing their individual shapes slowly by soft glow on slight grooves.
It is (the texts insist) imperative that you do not focus too hard on deciphering any particular tengwa. To ‘stick’ to one tengwa, to try to force its reading, is dangerous and invites ill intent or malicious maiar into the reading. The eye must slide. If it sees one tengwa but cannot yet read it, it slides past it, to the next, then the next. This slide-reading process continues until the identity of at least one tengwa becomes clear to the reader, caught by the firelight or starlight, and in a single moment of clarity the reader realizes what it is they are looking at.
This ‘soft’ reading, this eye-sliding, is exactly the technique that I do not recommend to beginners. It is hard to learn how to not focus, to read in a dreamlike way, with intuition, not assuming the shape of the tengwa but waiting until the eye is adjusted enough to perceive (and it is especially hard when you don't actually have the alphabet memorized yet and are trying to trigger recall at the same time). The ‘roaming’ may take minutes and it is hard to not force understanding, to not let nervousness or awkwardness or eagerness drive one forward to a quick and incorrect conclusion. You must wait for your eyes to adjust, you cannot squint or linger at any particular tengwa, you must drift and slide and rove until one coalesces first for you. This is natural reading, observing signs as they come, instead of trying to force signs into a preconceived structure of understanding.
This is where the concept of ‘reverse signs’ can be addressed again—the fact that some tengwar turn into others when flipped upside down is, as you can see, not a problem for traditional tengwar reading at all. It is in fact a boon, as an ‘upside down’ Calma simply becomes a readable Tinco in the soft light and gentle perception of slide-reading. It doesn’t matter what it was ‘supposed to be’ in the light of day, you are reading its distinct and quiet message in the night, and the changes of circumstance, exact throws and landings, can alter (or create) that fateful message.
(I have read many theories that this method was developed by Numenoreans trying to imitate some other sense or ability that elves had naturally, even that the rituals of divination were made to copy a natural elven ability to see the future. I feel this theory may have some merit—perhaps men of Ages past figured out certain processes to let them imitate the abilities of others—but it cannot be the whole truth, because again, we have documented records of elves using the same method. Why would they if they could see the future without it? Perhaps there were simpler elven forms made more elaborate by their inheritors to compensate for diminishing abilities. None of these claims can be proven; they all must remain food for thought.)
Once one tengwa has been understood, the others won’t be far behind. Read them out loud; if you have three tengwa facing up, and see Silme first, say “Silme”, and keep reciting its name until another one is understood. Then, if the other is for instance “Lambe,” Say “Silme, Lambe, Silme, Lambe,” until the third is recognized. Then say all three names once more (“Silme, Lambe, Vilya.’) and stop. Proceed to interpretation.
How to interpret them? It should come naturally to the reader if they have entered the trance-like state of sliding over the reading. There is an intuitive order: in the next part of your life, Silme is relevant, then Lambe, then Vilya. These tengwar are revealing something about the reader, or their future, or discussing matters of import to them. The reader should already be in a near-trace state of dispersed, dreamy focus brought on by the swaying, roving eye that was slide-reading, and so the mind should be primed to slide between the meaning of the letters and certain things inside the reader or in their future which are conjured up by connection and suggestion.
Perhaps a reader sees ‘Silme’ and, in doing the same slide-reading through their inner workings, realizes that tengwa applies to something they have been waiting to begin. They say so out loud. Then they turn to Lambe, and realize its meaning of ‘power’ applies to some force that will be necessary to maintain the change brought on by that awakening, and so they explain this out loud. They turn finally to ‘Vilya’ and proclaim that should they firmly stay this course, that which was once denied to them will be available, as attainable as it once seemed impossible.
If there is more than one person present, they may chime in with alternate interpretations. If, for example, the reader interprets Lambe but someone else strongly feels a different interpretation, they would offer it as an alternative. When these things happen, neither interpretation is rejected. No rebuttal is voiced. Sometimes, two readers will go back and forth, but this is when they are building on an interpretation, furthering it together, reaching consensus.
Then, the tengwar that have been read are removed. These are now considered the ‘lit’ tengwar. The ones that are left are any that fell face-down (as traditional tengwar discs were only marked on one side), the ‘unlit’ tengwar.
The reader closes their eyes again. The ‘unlit’ tengwar are flipped over right side up, still with their eyes closed. (In some tales, an attendant does all of this while the reader sits and ponders, but if your attendants are helping you read, they should keep their own eyes closed as well.)
Then these unlit tengwar and read in the same way as the lit ones, but with the understanding that these represent outside forces, things beyond the power of the reader. Perhaps the things in their subconscious, beneath cognizant understanding, perhaps outside forces, perhaps the will of the spirits or Gods when it runs counter to that of the reader, or perhaps even the future movements of enemies. The context provided by the ‘lit’ half of the reading should make it clear to what person or thing the unlit tengwar refer, but one can have quite mysterious or disturbing readings where it is not at all clear what force is having its plans betrayed by the telling of the tengwar.
After the reading has concluded, the deities that were invoked at the beginning are thanked. Then the reader gathers the tengwar and returns them to their box, which is closed. The cloak is gathered, and, if one has companions, they get to engage in one of the least explained and most consistent elements of the classic Numenorean ritual: the cloak is placed over their head and, in some cases, tied on, or bound around a reader somehow, so they cannot see. The reader is then led back home or to a quiet place, where they continue to contemplate the reading and its meaning. (If one reads alone, to wrap oneself up in the cloak is done often, but mind you not enter a trance state in a place where you will be found and disturbed.)
How long one remains in contemplation depends; typically, the answer is ‘until one cannot focus any longer’ or ‘until there is nothing more to contemplate’. Then, though records never go beyond the end of the ritual, I recommend getting something to eat. That’s a lot of thinking you just did, and thinking is hard work.
INTERPRETATIONS OF THE TENGWAR
We now turn to a list of the individual tengwar and their traditional meanings and interpretations in divination. In instances where we know that meanings and understandings changed significantly with time, I have decided to split the meaning of the tengwa into an ‘older’ and ‘newer’ understanding, though all of them in reality have been altered with time and have many shades of understanding inside them.
Do not discount your own understanding either—the elves had thoughts and concepts that they associated with the concept of the ‘heart’, and the Numenoreans did as well, but you yourself do not know nothing of the heart. When reading for yourself, do not presume you know nothing and that the ancients knew all. Finnikhla, in his essay on herbalism and cookery, calls the bee ‘the smallest of birds, born from the bodies of oxen.’ Listen. They didn’t know everything.
TINCO
Translation: Metal.
Letter: T.
Aspects: Creation/Possibility/Freedom.
In Divination: What happens next is up to you. The future is raw, you may shape it as you will.
Cultural Notes: To the forging/metalworking culture of the elves who made the tengwar, the workshop was a place of creation and metal the pure stuff of life, like aether to the Gods. It is a pleasingly clean, intuitive choice for the work to start with an acknowledgement of the raw stuff it is made with, and a reading that is also so fortunate as to begin with Tinco never fails to bring good news.
PARMA
Translation: Book.
Letter: P.
Aspects: Insight/Synthesis/Labor.
In Divination: You will come to a conclusion about your issue/question, but only after hard work, thought, and study. The truth will not come easy but the labor will be rewarding. You’re not ready yet.
Cultural Notes: A modern person may expect ‘book’ to mean ‘knowledge’, not ‘invention’. Elves were still largely an oral culture when the tengwar were made. Books were a new invention; the sign meaning knowledge and power is Lambe/‘tongue’ instead. Though Numenor was a written culture, this original interpretation of this tengwa never changed, though it adapted slightly to having a class division between a literate high culture and lower common culture rather than the elven temporal division of times before and after a culture-making event.
CALMA
Translation: Lamp.
Letter: K/C.
Aspects: Safety/Home/Family.
In Divination: Mind matters at home—or, look to family for assistance.
Cultural Notes: The lamp was an invention more highly praised in both Numenor and tengwar’s initial elven context than we might think today. A lamp is common to us; to them, a treasured repository of light, something not guaranteed in their early, dark world. In Numenor, because of their seafaring culture, tengwar sets with images often pictured a ship’s lantern, the romantic image of a single light radiating in an otherwise empty place.
QUESSE
Translation: Feather.
Letter: QU.
Aspects: Might/Forward motion/Discernment.
In Divination: Take decisive action. Do not try to balance two things or compromise any longer; choose, commit, and move forward.
Cultural Notes: ‘Quesse’ just means feather, but its traditional divinatory meanings suggest that it was understood that it referred specifically to the eagle’s feather. The elves’ chief God (Vala), Manwe, was associated with the eagle, and therefore Quesse is Manwe’s tengwa and is associated with everything that he was associated with. It seems Numenoreans, especially in the later Imperial period, came to expect (or fear) actual divine intervention after drawing one of the ‘Valar’ tengwar, but this thought was not original to the elves.
ANDO
Translation: Gate.
Letter: ND.
Aspects: Change/Exchange/Memory.
In Divination: Ando indicates that one is about to cross from one place to the next. Like passing through a doorway, one should expect to gain something new but also to forget something/leave something behind.
Cultural Notes: No special notes.
UMBAR
Translation: Fate.
Letter: MB.
Aspects: Not applicable.
In Divination: When Umbar is drawn, the divination ends immediately. Drawing ‘fate’ paradoxically means that one’s fate cannot be told. Another divination should only be attempted after time and serious thought.
Cultural Notes: Frustratingly, evidence suggests that Umbar did have a more traditional divinatory meaning very early on in the history of tengwar but became a ‘hard stop’ long before the practice became popular in Numenor. However, we’re unsure exactly what its initial meaning was or when the tengwa became taboo for divinatory purposes.
ANGA
Translation: Iron.
Letter: NG.
Aspects: Aggression/Stubbornness/Waste.
In Divination: You are being unyielding, inflexible, or harsh. To be very blunt: you are the one who is wrong.
Cultural Notes: Iron was rarely the metal of choice for elves or for our own ancestors, though it could be a raw ingredient of something better. Iron, in elven poetry, is associated with the weapons, fortresses, and wills of their enemies. Numenoreans, who preferred steel, kept essentially the same meaning but embedded the rune with the extra weight of the iron-wielding enemy being ‘uncivilized’ and ‘primal.’
UNGWE
Translation: Spider web.
Letter: NGW.
Aspects: Capture/Entanglement/Struggle.
In Divination: You are bound, caught in indecision or statis. There is no easy way out. Ungwe suggests you prepare to struggle hard or else accept powerlessness.
Cultural Notes: Ungwe initially had clear associations with the legend of the Monster Spider, a ‘chaos dragon’ of a kind that opposed the elven Gods (Valar). As with later chaos dragon myths, the monster spider brings/harbors disorder and darkness and is destroyed to create/preserve culture. In later Numenor the monster spider myths were not popular, as their island home had few large predators, but the concept of entanglement needs no mythological backing for intuitive understanding (to which those of us who have been trapped in the modern ‘web’ for a decade and with no end in sight can attest).
THULE
Translation: Breath.
Letter: TH.
Aspects: Life essence/Spirit/Breath.
In Divination: You are in danger of losing yourself. Focus on your essence, assure yourself that you are controlling yourself and not handing control to others.
Cultural Notes: Numenoreans strongly believed that breath was life, a poetic expression of biological reality that eventually spawned many mystical beliefs in which the saying was taken as fact. ‘Thule’ is an odd absence when it comes to elven sources; it seems to not exist before manifesting in Numenor. The cleanest argument is that they invented a letter which did not exist before, but try telling that to Unaltered Tengwar purists.
FORMEN
Translation: North.
Letter: F.
- Aspects: Stasis/Hibernation/Patience.
In Divination: An arduous wait is ahead. Hunker down and hold your breath.
- Aspects: Emptiness/Pointlessness.
In Divination: There is nothing for you in this line of inquiry. Whatever you are hunting for will not be found. Change tactics.
Cultural Notes: The original, elven interpretation and the Numenorean interpretation are different enough that they are presented separately here. If one surveys literature, one will find the difference in ‘feeling’ for the two culture’s understanding of ‘North’ is even more divergent than it appears here. That to the Numenoreans the north meant only ocean wasteland is obvious. In older elven cultures, the belief that the north of the world was ‘capped’ with a field of ice, from which came all cold air, helps explain their beliefs. They believed vicious creatures came from this cold north and it is mentioned in writing with a flinching fear that only the likes of enemy fortresses can match. There must have once been a rich oral culture about this legendary northern wasteland; alas, what was once a barren land of monsters is now a barren field of study, host to mere speculation.
AHA
Translation: Rage.
Letter: H/CH.
Aspects: Readiness/War/Anger.
In Divination: There is a fight in your future. You will have to pick a side. Try at least picking the side on which you are fighting the good fight.
Cultural Notes: In illustrated Numenorean sets of tengwar (elven sets are believed to have never had additional decoration), Aha is often associated with the figure of ‘Measse’, a fearsome Warrior Goddess. Scholarship is overall agreed that Measse is a Numenorean invention as she does not appear in any elven sources, many of which give full lists of their Gods. Because of that, older elven interpretations of Aha are more negative and cautious, whereas Numenorean interpretations could be more positive and inspiring, as the new divine shine on the concept of rage made it more palatable.*
HWESTA
Translation: Breeze.
Letter: HW.
Aspects: Breath/Life/Body.
In Divination: Attend to your needs. There has been too much self-sacrifice; or, worse, too much sacrificing the needs of others. Make sure everyone is fed before you answer whatever high-concept question you attacked the tengwar with.
Cultural Notes: As the reader has surely noticed, ‘Thule’ and ‘Hwesta’ have a lot of theoretical overlap. I admit to being a bit lost on the subtleties myself. The best delineation I have cobbled together is that one should see Thule as having spiritual associations where and when Hwesta has physical/bodily ones. This concept does not however easily apply to how the two concepts were understood in relation and opposition to each other at all times; there is a sense that there is a body/soul division but, perhaps fittingly, I can’t find the line between them. A large number of cultural migrations back and forth have blurred it.
ANTO
Translation: Mouth.
Letter: NT.
Aspects: Flowing Movement/Outpouring/Origin.
In Divination: Look to the source of the problem or issue. Locate its original form. This thing will keep pouring out; don’t get lost in the rush of details.
Cultural Notes: ‘Mouth’, evidentially, was understood as ‘mouth of the river’. Perhaps this is because Lambe (see below) covered much of the symbolism that would be associated with the anatomical mouth already. For elves, all rivers are the legendary primordial river Cuivienen (see Silme below), which stands mythologically for an origin of all things, the water of birth, the collective subconscious, and all other things we tend to associate with water when we get poetic. (The symbolism is thus somewhat scattered and contradictory, since the ‘mouth’ of a river is its end, not its origin, but such things happen in the symbolic world.) The island of Elenna’s scarcity of rivers also inspired Numenoreans to have many mystical and/or symbolic associations related to their subterranean origins and eventual outpouring into the endless sea. Anto was also ‘harbor’ instead of ‘mouth of the river’ sometimes, though this reading is less popular and more scattered. Anto isn’t one of those ‘easy’ tengwa. Let the reading of it be intuitive.
AMPA
Translation: Hook.
Letter: MP.
Aspects: Bending/Alteration/Marring.
In Divination: Something you think is straight and plain is twisted. You may have badly misunderstood the situation, or it may have become more bent out of shape than you realize.
Cultural Notes: ‘Hook’ comes from a word-sense more like ‘crooked, bent’ than like ‘farm tool’. I feel it should read ‘hooked’, as an adjective. From this comes the sense that something has been ‘bent’, an idea that does not much change with cultures.
ANCA
Translation: Jaws.
Letter: NC.
Aspects: Chaos/Terror/Enmity.
In Divination: It may simply represent your enemy. It can also suggest general chaos, or, in more positive situations, that one’s fear/terror of the situation is worse than the situation itself.
Cultural Notes: Called the ‘dragon’s tengwa’ all throughout its history, Anca seems to have originally received its monstrous association from a linguistic association or possibly even a pun now lost to us. Perhaps the meaning of ‘jaws’ just became associated with the biggest known jaws. That said, the tengwa should predate the existence of dragons, meaning it may have once had a less baleful interpretation now lost to time. Maybe it was once associated with the jaws of some smaller, local monster before the dragon swallowed it up.
UNQUE
Translation: Hole/ Hollow.
Letter: NQU.
Aspects: Emptiness/Loss/Grief.
In Divination: Something you have today will soon become a hole you cannot fill. You will grieve.
Cultural Notes: With this elder elven interpretation, I have disappointed those who know Unque as the ‘sex tengwa.’ Yes, in late Numenor, it was a common joke to hide Unque up one’s sleeve and put it down in a suggestive spot to make a listener laugh (or perhaps to suggest another activity). This was certainly not original in elven society, where ‘hollow’ was taken as a warning instead of as a proposition. It appears to be historical fact, despite the claims of the small-minded, that elves did not naturally die; the suggestion of ‘grief’ or ‘emptiness’ would cause them a fear that their descendants later lost.
NUMEN Translation: West. Letter: N.
- Aspects: Prosperity/Civilization/Adulthood.
In Divination: You have grown into maturity in this topic. You have gone as far as you can.
- Aspects: Mystery/Eternity/Timelessness.
In Divination: You are reaching for an unattainable fullness, something beyond full understanding. As in trance, you may comprehend the mystery for a moment, but when you try to phrase it, you will lose it.
Cultural Notes: Another tengwa whose meaning changed radically with time, most extant examples of tengwar fortune-telling sets use the later interpretation of ‘timelessness.’ This would be an odd synonym for ‘West’ if we did not keep the Numenoreans’ honestly obnoxious ‘Western’ superiority complex in mind (more about that below). In their legends, the Gods/Valar live on the distant ‘lost western continent’ on which they imagine their own ancient origins. These legends inch us closer to Numen’s theorized earlier interpretation, that of ‘civilization’ or ‘fullness.’ The meaning of ‘West’ for them was a final fulfillment, perhaps, but because it was an initial origin as well. There’s a shade of birth/death mysticism here. I am forced to say the earlier interpretation of Numen is ‘theorized’, because though we have earlier mentions of Numen in which it seems to have another meaning, it is never stated outright and context clues are scanty—just enough to say that ‘mystery’ can’t be the meaning they are pointing at. It wasn’t a mystery to the earlier elves, whatever ‘it’ was.
MALTA
Translation: Gold.
Letter: M.
Aspects: Wealth/Abundance/Illness.
In Divination: This line of inquiry will eventually bear fruit, and a lot of it. Be excited! (Mind you don’t make yourself sick by gorging, though.)
Cultural Notes: Despite what one may think, ‘illness’ was a late aspect of Malta, not an early one. Often, tengwa are ‘softened’ with time, hard edges and exact details rubbed away. But evidence suggests that Malta was a purely good tengwa about abundance, gain, and good fortune for elves but became associated with gold-sickness and greed much later. I would even argue that many of these connotations are post-Numenor, following a fairly new theory that some tengwar actually carry connotations first developed not by the ‘Noldor’ (see just below) that first invented them but by other elven cultures that initially had no contact with the Noldor but adopted the tengwar later (other tengwa that may have these ‘eastern elven’ connotations preserved in modern interpretation include Hwesta, Ore, Vilya, and Yanta.)
NOLDO
Translation: Untranslatable (see ‘Cultural Notes’)
Letter: GN/N.
- Aspects: People/Community/City?
In Divination: Possibly, a reminder to defend one’s own or look to home for help.
- Aspects: Work/Focus/Building.
In Divination: Stop procrastinating.
Cultural Notes: ‘Noldo’ was an ethnic term used for one tribe/’race’ of elves. The interpretation of ‘Noldo’ is split into two here because while we have a good understanding of the Numenorean interpretation, the interpretation of Noldo (the tengwa) in elven culture is unknowable as it was never explained. This appears to be an instance where no one wrote down its meaning because it was assumed that everyone knew. Therefore, the first/elven interpretation here is cautious, reflecting the scant historical record. We do have one claim, from the writings of a Numenorean historian, that he saw an old Noldorin tengwar set which had the interpretative words ‘Home’, ‘Defense’, and FRMNS on it; the word ‘FRMNS’ he could not translate, largely because the tehtar/vowels were missing, and no fully satisfactory translation has been proposed. The Numenorean understanding of the same tengwa, on the other hand, is incredibly clear in the record and has been stated incredibly clearly here.
NWALME
Translation: Torment.
Letter: NW.
Aspects: Trouble/Suffering/Death.
In Divination: There is pain in the future. It is unavoidable. A good attitude will not be enough, perseverance and character are needed.
Cultural Notes: While the translation and meaning of Nwalme are unmistakable, how seriously it is taken has changed over time. It is claimed that early elven sets excluded Nwalme, or else that it was ceremoniously set to the side when drawn, symbolic of their idyllic life in that legendary western continent. In Numenor, Nwalme meant ‘torment’ no matter what, but in some times was softened into meaning ‘trouble’ and in some times (typically late Numenor) was taken seriously as an omen of death, that is, a direct warning that the reader was in mortal peril.
ORE
Translation: Heart
Letter: R.
- Aspects: Intuition/Discernment/Vision.
In Divination: You already know what you must do. Asking the tengwar will tell you nothing. Look inside.
- Aspects: Emotion/Conscience/Limerence.
In Divination: Your desires and your morals are at odds. Ore encourages you to consider if you want what is right and to meditate on the gap between those two things.
Cultural Notes: I am forced to split the interpretations of ‘Ore’ because the nuanced translation of this Quenya word is unappreciated in our time and was in fact unappreciated in (my dearly beloved) Numenor. What our ancestors interpreted as ‘feeling’ or ‘heart’ had a complex and nuanced meaning to the elves. To them, the Ore was the still, silent voice inside, the soul communicating to the conscious mind. It sang out one’s inmost will/being and if listened to keenly could score the future on the whorl of the ear. As such, drawing Ore in a reading indicated that the reader should be consulting inner, not outer, sources of knowledge; the answer was already inside, and the moral compass already better attuned to the way forward than external measurements. In Numenor, sloppy coats of the moralizing ‘conscience’ lime were painted over this subtle concept; today, I bet I could just tell a person that Ore means that you have to ‘follow your heart’ and they would seriously think this is a keen observation and not meaningless verbal mush being presented as spiritual food. What do you even think that means? Have you ever heard it speaking, even once?
VALA
Translation: God.
Letter: V.
- Aspects: Revelation.
In Divination: The way you understand the world around you will change significantly.
- Aspects: Miracle/Revelation/Enlightenment.
In Divination: Go forth boldly, but piously. God is on your side… stay on His.
Cultural Notes: ‘Vala’ is the old Quenya word for God. The elven understanding, however, of divinities was different from our own; their many deities were almost animistic, ‘geniuses’ of natural forces and intellectual concepts. Where you see a Numenorean expectation of divine intervention, the elves saw their Gods as hands-off. As has been noted many times by scholars of old Numenor, religiosity generally increased in the empire as time went on. In early Numenor, physical places of worship were few and religious actions were cultural actions; in late Numenor, demonstrative religiosity, cult activity, and the separation of cultural and religious life/identity all became extreme as the State Religion slowly formed within and then burst out from culture. The appearance of Vala in a reading might inspire a Numenorean to go to a temple and get their spiritual life together, a concept that would have been meaningless in earlier times, when a ‘Vala’ was its element and all it took to be in tune with them was basic respect. In very late Numenor, when religious strife was extreme, we have example of sets where the ‘Vala’ tengwa is actually altered to read the name of a specific Vala instead, ‘Melkor’, ‘Ulmo’, and ‘Manwe’ all being common. (As Melkor began to be known as ‘I Vala’, ‘The Vala’, in later Numenorean writings, this shift to being forced to choose a God instead of treating the tengwa Vala as meaning God in the abstract makes sense.)
ANNA
Translation: Gift.
Letter: Y/H.
Aspects: Gift/Exchange/Offer.
In Divination: An offer to trade is on your future—consider what you would like to receive, but also consider what you are willing to give away.
Cultural Notes: While its central meaning has never changed, Anna has seen shifts in cultural understanding over time. Often associated with Yavanna, elven Valie (Goddess) of agriculture (you see the tengwa present in her name) in early years, at first it seems readers interpreted this tengwa quite straightforwardly as a sign that blessings are on the way. ‘Exchange’ was always an alternate interpretation, encouraging the reader to consider giving instead of receiving or giving in return, but in later days of Numenor the tengwa and the interpretation of ‘exchange’ became firmly married when a religious figure called ‘Annatar’ (or ‘figures’, as a compelling theory that Annatar was really an inherited title for a religious leader is gaining traction in scholarship), whose title meant ‘Lord of Gifts’, subsumed the tengwa and its symbolism into his personal mythos. The interpretation of the coming of not a free gift but a conditional exchange has remained since.
VILYA
Translation: Sky.
Letter: V/W.
Aspects: Vastness/Majesty/Protection.
In Divination: Be bold. The open sky is before you; you are in danger of thinking too small, not too large. You will be protected in your leap of faith.
Cultural Notes: Even though the first letter of her name was Vala, Vilya was strongly associated with the Valie Varda, the Goddess of stars, light, wisdom, and protection. This is the reason for the associations and divinatory meanings, which don’t seem to follow from the word ‘sky’. Actually, poems and accounts about Vilya have given us evidence about the nature of historically elusive Varda that we did not have before. Though she was beloved by elves, she was little written about, likely another case of the facts being so well understood in their time that no one thought that they had to be written down.
ROMEN
Translation: Sunrise.
Letter: R.
Aspects: Perseverance/Hope/Strife.
In Divination: You will have to make the best of a bad situation. But hold out hope—day will come again.
Cultural Notes: A common misinterpretation of Romen is that it means a beginning/symbolic ‘new day’. The tengwa of beginnings is actually Silme (see below). Romen did not originally have any connotation of ‘newness’. It is instead cyclical—day will come again, like it always does. Romen assures you that the bad times, though inevitable, are temporary, just as celestial cycles. As a note, Romen tengwar discs even from early times are oddly explicit in their message. Though it is unusual for elven divinatory tengwar to sport additional text or illustration, finding Romen discs that say some version of ‘Day Comes Again’ or ‘Day Will Come Again’ is oddly common, which is why I included the direct phrase in my interpretation.
ARDA
Translation: The World.
Letter: RD.
Aspects: Totality/Everything/Possibility.
In Divination: Arda could mean everything, or it could mean you need to stop searching for meanings at all. Nothing is big enough to encompass this.
Cultural Notes: To try to put cultural notes onto the concept of ‘Arda’ would be spiritual, not historical, interpretation. The world is the world, and that hasn’t changed. Trust a scholar of ancient history on that.
LAMBE
Translation: Tongue.
Letter: L.
Aspects: Language/Power/Knowledge.
In Divination: You have more power than you realize, and perhaps in unexpected forms and varieties. You are about to need to use it. Be prepared to argue your case.
Cultural Notes: To the elves who made the tengwar, the finest speaker was the person who was right. They had a great respect for the power of speech, which manifested in beliefs about both rhetoric and singing having magical powers. These beliefs hadn’t changed much in Numenor, except that we start seeing more suspicion and anxiety about these abilities in the historical record from late Numenor.
ALDA
Translation: Tree.
Letter: LD.
Aspects: Balance/Blending/Complexity.
In Divination: You may have to compromise. Or, there may not ever be an end to this struggle. How might you live with it instead?
Cultural Notes: In our modern world we might expect ‘tree’ to be associated with ‘growth’, but elves had incredibly complex associations with the tree that were transmitted largely intact to Numenor and which are difficult to summarize here. Read up on ‘two trees’ mythos for a beginner understanding, but in summary, in trees they saw the blending of dualities, but a blending that was moving, dynamic, changing, a struggle in which the apparent victory keeps changing, but no victory is ever won. Some, for this reason, associate it with marriage, which I find a little bleak.
SILME
Translation: Starlight.
Letter: S.
Aspects: Beginning/Birth/Wonder.
In Divination: Something completely, totally new is about to open up its eyes. New to you, or, perhaps, new to everyone. You will not understand, and you will not understand with joy.
Cultural Notes: While some facts about the distant past of our world and of the elves are debatable, one thing we have beyond a doubt is the elven creation myth, which is unchanged by time, location, and whether or not you think elves were real. Dozens of varied copies from different Ages and continents all agree: the elves woke on the shores of the long-lost river Cuivienen, and the first thing they saw when they opened their eyes was the stars. Fittingly, Silme was not altered for Numenorean interpretation or by that of anyone since. In Silme there remains the first night of the earth, as raw, untamed, and new as ever it was.
ESSE
Translation: Name.
Letter: SS.
Aspects: Comprehension/Alteration/Power.
In Divination: Esse indicates that you will put a name to something you did not understand before. You will come to power over something you could not control before.
Cultural Notes: To elves, the two previous sentences mean the same thing. To name was to understand; they claimed to have invented language, named everything they saw, having been provided no words upon awakening. (That ‘starlight’ and ‘name’ come together in the tengwar seems like it is not a coincidence to me, the symbolic rhymes sound too sweet). They did invent letters, at least these letters, so their comprehension of the importance of the name remains.
HYARMEN
Translation: South.
Letter: HY.
Aspects: Expansion/Growth.
In Divination: Like water seeping out, growth cannot be stopped, not even if you want to stop it. Observe the directions in which you are creeping if you want any control over where you’re going.
Cultural Notes: Unlike other ‘directional’ tengwar, Hyarmen is oddly neglected in text. The interpretation is quite certain, but the only extant tale in which a reading of ‘Hyarmen’ is at all interesting is in an unattributed drama in which its traditional meaning is abandoned and it is instead translated literally as ‘left hand’, which somehow alerts the reader that an attack is coming from their left. Perhaps, I theorize, that Hyarmen had a sense of ‘normal’ growth, and was thus taken as a mundane, positive, unremarkable sign that things are going well and proceeding apace. In that case, I find its neglect somewhat unfair.**
YANTA
Translation: Bridge.
Letter: Y.
Aspects: Connection/Compromise/Reunion.
In Divination: Yanta tells you it’s time to reach out. You are going to lose your connections and relationships if you don’t cross the bridge and meet them where they are already.
Cultural Notes: The concept of ‘bridge’ has not changed much in time, though some sources have noted that Yanta once had a stronger sense of ‘reunion’ that fell out of favor in reading with time for no clear reason.
URE
Translation: Heat.
Letter: U.
Aspects: Heat/Fever/Refinement/Beginning again.
In Divination: Scrap it. It’s time to give up on something that isn’t working. Break it, melt it, remold it, and make something else.
Cultural Notes: Evidence suggests that Ure (as a word) once meant ‘fire’ and now means ‘heat’; the ‘evidence’ is that Ure is clearly used to mean fire/torch in tengwar divination. It’s possible that an older meaning of the word is preserved in this context long after it changed in spoken language. There is a pleasant sense of rhyming in the fact that the tengwar ‘proper’ (I have elided a lot of subtle differences in what was considered a ‘proper’ set of tengwar over time and place, but in the general) began with Tinco/metal and ends with Ure/heat, as both clearly have strong associations with the forge. Perhaps this is just the wishful thinking of a scholar hunting for a tidy story in the detritus of history, but evidence suggests this concept of an overarching ‘forging’ metaphor of the tengwar as a whole was if not universal than at least extant in the archaic past.****
LOST/ALTERNATE TENGWAR: Once in a while, we find evidence of a tengwa that was in rare or occasional use. Sometimes there appears to be linguistic disagreement—that is, a difference in pronunciation between languages or dialects led to some letters appearing or disappearing from individual divination sets—sometimes a person seems to decide they want another symbol in their divination set and they make another letter to go with it. None of the following are standard, so take or leave my shaky interpretations as you see fit.
HALLA and TELCO: meaning ‘tall’ and ‘leg’ respectively, these tengwa are ‘carriers’ that simply provide a place to put vowels in a written Quenya word. They almost never show up in tengwar divination sets, since they have no pronunciations of their own and aren’t considered proper tengwar. When they do, frustratingly, they are rarely glossed; perhaps they served almost as ‘jokers’, non-answers? If so, perhaps the shifting of Umbar’s meaning phased them out.
The TEHTAR: The tehtar, the vowels, are almost never included in fortune-telling sets. Except sometimes, they are. Have they ever been glossed? No. Never. As they have never had proper names, I am not sure how they could be, or what on earth they were doing in the sets that they do show up in. Perhaps, as Quenya vowels color consonants, divinatory tehtar colored nearby tengwar with some kind of additional association. The possibilities are tantalizing but would be supposition.
OSSE: Mentioned in a few places as an ‘archaic’ tengwa, it appears Osse did exist but long before we have proper records in or about Quenya. It appears to have been a vowel, which is likely why it did not survive—initial tengwar for vowels were all eventually abandoned for the nameless tehtar. Osse may have also been redundant—the word is translated as ‘terror’, which would overlap significantly with Anca. Only one source hints at an interpretation, an obscure (but twice-attested) folk-tale about Numenorean religious figure Annatar and late-Numenorean King Ar-Pharazon, in which a reading of Osse is ill-received, but with annoyance. When Annatar receives this tengwa, he does not take it seriously and asks for something ‘better suited,’ after which Vala is drawn instead. What ‘better suited’ is supposed to mean is uncertain. There are theories that ‘Osse’ was once the name of a spirit of mixed alignment, sometimes allied with the Valar in tales and sometimes with their enemies; I suspect synchronism and the muddled identity of several figures. A name meaning ‘Terror’ is too odd for a Maia, so perhaps some older legends got bundled into newer folktales of beasties and boogeymen.
NOTES
*Those who know me personally or who have read my work before are rolling their eyes right now, as they know that I am a Ainaiva*** Reconstructionist and that I have accepted Measse as my matron deity (a choice that makes some of my fellow Reconstructionists unhappy, to say the least). Let me pretend to be impartial in this one article, you can read anything else I have ever written for my opinions on Measse as a valid and enormously misunderstood deity.
**You’re probably looking for east, now! You won’t find it. ‘East’ is the only cardinal direction not represented by a tengwa… except that it is. Romen means ‘east’. Even still Numenorean maps will be found labelled on their compasses with ‘Formen, Romen, H(y)armen, Numen.’ As you have noticed, Romen has been completely associated with ‘sunrise’ instead. This really doesn’t make sense, as just as Romen means east or sunrise, Numen can mean west or sunset. Why the disparity? Like I said, Romen is an odd tengwa to begin with, oddly strongly associated with a certain set of words and symbols. I’ve read variant theories, but I have over time settled on an unsatisfying but very human answer: the Numenoreans preferred sunrise over sunset, and they preferred West over East. I suspect that in their original elven forms all these directional tengwar enjoyed dual meanings but the Numenoreans flattered them into their favored interpretations.
***Or Ainurion or Ainuva or Ainur Hilde or Hildainurion shut UP you’re not more right about Quenya than me it’s a DEAD LANGUAGE. The most correct word is the one that looks best in the tengwar and we both know it.
****Though, to be honest, it beggars belief that one solitary ‘great man’ made up a common part of human/elven life all by himself (written language) and that not one other person contributed, I cannot help but wonder if even that original, legendary ‘inventor’ began the great invention of the alphabet with the raw ingredient of metal and ended it with the fire/heat of the forge, the image thrusting all of his work right back in, as a way to suggest he actually believed it needed, or deserved, further refinement, the hands of future generations reshaping it to greater and greater forms. Do I go too far in interpreting a scant few words as a sign that this ancient person wanted his inheritors to reuse his inventions for their own purposes, their own needs? Do I expose not historical truth but personal bias, wishful thinking, when I say I see that ancient inventor offering up the tools of the forge to us to make the letters, the words, the meanings once again, to take them from his hands like a newborn with the plea that we just keep it alive for him?
Perhaps so, perhaps not. The past has receded far; originals have been melted and reshaped so oft there is no way to know. The scholar chooses to embalm and enshrine the past or to undertake the perilous, dangerous work of resurrecting it. When they call my shambling creations ugly, misshapen, disrespectful, incorrect, unclean, I will call those things alive.
REGARDS
That’s all! Feel free to comment, theorize, wildly speculate in the comment box below. And that comment box is open for now . Be polite; if we have a repeat of the Comment Box Meltdown of ’98 we will have the same results: IP bans for everyone. This is a POLYTHEIST website, even typing the word ‘Allfather’ gets you a permaban. He’s not mine, I took the test :P And while we’re at it, I didn’t write anything about those evil, evil gays this time, but if I even smell homophobia you get banned too. Them’s the rules. Make your own site if you don’t like it.
NINQUENYARRINCE 2001
AIYA MEASSE AMYA CAUMANYA