Favorite Chapters of The Sil

[Maedhros]

Yes, I agree. I always now read in the original language... assuming I can, of course. I don't trust translations; I don't think the mood of a book ever comes across perfectly correctly. Can you explain what exactly the difference is in JRRT's books?

I can try at least. When I was 17, my brother gave to me a copy of The Hobbit and I became in love with ME. After that I read The Lord of the Rings and the Published Silmarillion. All in english of course. Much later, when I obtained copies of the books in spanish, I try to read them, but the translation of the names of the characters killed me. I just couldn't in good faith read it.
The same happens to me when I listen to baroque or classical music. For example, the first time that I heard Felix Mendelssohn's Italian Symphonie, I became in love with that, later when I heard the same Symphonie, but of a different composer it just wasn't the same. It was the same symphonie, but to me the sound of the symphonie will always be the one that I heard first.

One of my fondest part of the Lord of the Rings is this:

where I would-to look across the wide seas of water and of time to Tirion the Fair, and perceive the unimaginable hand and mind of Fëanor at their work, while both the White Tree and the Golden were in flower!'

The spanish translation would be:

yo quisiera... más allá de los anchos mares de agua y de tiempo hacia Tirion la Bella, y ver cómo trabajaban la mano y la mente inimaginables de Fëanor, ¡cuando el Arbol Blanco y el Arbol de Oro florecÃ*an aún!

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From Here and There:

Now is there a sally from the gates of Gondolin and a throng comes about these twain in wonder, rejoicing that Voronwë had returned , and marvelling at the stature and the gaunt limbs of Tuor, his harp and his armour made of Noldo-steel overlaid with silver; and his helm was adorned with a device of metals and jewels like to two swan-wings, one on either side, and a swan's wing was wrought on his shield.Yet was Tuor taller than any that stood there though indeed the Gondolindrim were not bent of back as some of their unhappy kin became, labouring without rest at delving and hammering for Morgoth, but they were strong and tall, but slender. They were swift of foot and surpassing fair; sweet and sad were their mouths, and their eyes had ever a joy within quivering to tears; for in those times the Noldor were exiles at heart, haunted with a desire for their ancient home that faded not. But fate and unconquerable eagerness after knowledge had driven them into far places, and now were they hemmed by Morgoth and must make their abiding as fair as they might by labour and by love.

Behold, the armed guardians of the gate pressed back the thronging folk that gathered about the wanderers, and one among them spake saying: 'This is a city of watch and ward, Gondolin on Amon Gwared, where all may be free who are of true heart, but none may be free to enter unknown. Tell me then your names.' But Voronwë named himself come hither by the will of Ulmo as guide to this son of Men; and Tuor said: 'I am Tuor son of Huor son of Galdor of the House of Hador of the sons of the Men of the North who live far hence, and I fare hither by the will of Ulmo of the Outer Oceans.'
Then all who listened grew silent, and his deep and rolling voice held them in amaze, for their own voices were fair as the plash of fountains. Then a saying arose among them: 'Lead him before the king.'
Then did the throng return within the gates and the wanderers with them, and Tuor saw they were of steel and of great height and strength. Now the streets of Gondolin were paved with stone and wide, kerbed with marble, and fair houses and courts amid gardens of bright flowers mounds of mallorns, birches, and evergreen trees were set about the ways, and many towers of great slenderness and beauty builded of white marble and carved most marvellously rose to the heaven. Squares there were lit with fountains and the home of birds that sang amid the branches of their aged trees, but of all these the greatest was that place where stood the King’s house, and the tower thereof on a pillared arcade was the loftiest in the city, and above it flew the banner of Fingolfin and the fountains that played before the doors shot twenty fathoms and seven in the air and fell in a singing rain of crystal: therein did the sun glitter splendidly by day, and the moon most magically shimmered by night. The birds that dwelt there were of the whiteness of snow and their voices sweeter than a lullaby of music.

[Faerdhinen]

Hm. All of the chappies.

[Maerbenn]

Originally Posted by Maedhros

Then such few of that people as did not perish in the assault joined themselves to Gil-galad and Galdor that valiant Noldor who led the men of the Tree in many a charge and yet won out of Gondolin and even the onslaught upon the dwellers at Sirion's mouth went with CÃ*rdan to Balar; and they told that Elros and Elrond were taken captive, but Elwing with the Silmaril upon her breast had cast herself into the sea.

That does not sound completely correct.

[The Telcontarion]

Every last chapter in the Silmarillion is the shiznit.

I love it all.