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A number-one New York Times bestseller when it was originally published, The Silmarillion is the core of J.R.R. Tolkien's imaginative writing, a work whose origins stretch back to a time long before The Hobbit.Tolkien considered Thr Silmarillion his most important work, and, though it was published last and posthumously, this great collection of tales and legends clearly sets the stage for all his other writing. The story of the creation of the world and of the the First Age, this is the ancient drama to which the characters in The Lord of the Rings look back and in whose events some of them, such as Elrond and Galadriel, took part. The three Silmarils were jewels created by Feanor, most gifted of the Elves. Within them was imprisoned the Light of the Two Trees of Valinor before the Trees themselves were destroyed by Morgoth, the first Dark Lord. Thereafter, the unsullied Light of Valinor lived on only in the Silmarils, but they were seized by Morgoth and set in his crown, which was guarded in the impenetrable fortress of Angband in the north of Middle-earth.
The Silmarillion is the history of the rebellion of Feanor and his kindred against the gods, their exile from Valinor and return to Middle-earth, and their war, hopeless despite all their heroism, against the great Enemy.
482 pages, Hardcover
First published September 15, 1977














“All have their worth and each contributes to the worth of the others.”



Sauron was become now a sorceror of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment.Ah, Sauron, Maia of Aulë—beyond doubt the singularly most enthralling antagonist whom I encountered as a young reader, possessing all of the malevolence and dark charisma and naked power of Satan, but unhobbled by the multi-aspectual morphology of Christian theology and popular culture that far too often rendered the Devil a ridiculous figure: a wild-eyed and beastly fornication ringmaster cavorting with naked acolytes; a scarlet-skinned, pitchfork-wielding fashion model for forked-tails and forehead horns; or slyly smiling traveling salesman, pitching his gimcrack wares backed by loosely-enforced contracts claiming lien upon some drink-tossed wastrel's dubiously-valuable soul. But Sauron—the dude fell, the dude schemed, the dude was scary, whether donning the raiments of a beautiful, translucent ring-wise man or an unbearably, searingly abhorrent humanoid vessel of the void.






































