In this biweekly series, we’re exploring the evolution of both major and minor figures in Tolkien’s legendarium, tracing the transformations of these characters through drafts and early manuscripts through to the finished work.
Sauron is one of Tolkien’s best-known and most terrifying villains. Fire and demons, darkness inescapable, and the pull of the Ring of Power surround him; he is often visualized (if incorrectly) as a great flaming Eye and, as a Lord of Middle-earth, stretches his power across the lands seeking again the One Ring. Many names are his, and yet he is the Nameless One. He is called Annatar, Zigūr, Thû, Gorthû, the Necromancer, Wizard, Magician, lieutenant of Morgoth, Lord of Wolves, King of Kings, Lord of the World. He is one of only a small handful of characters to play a significant part in tales of Arda from the creation of the universe through to the last of the tales of Middle-earth. At first he plays lackey, but with the ages his power increases and he rightly earns the title of Dark Lord from Morgoth, his master.
Sauron is unique for a number of reasons. Unlike many other of Tolkien’s creations, his conception remains relatively stable throughout the legendarium, and because of this he is also one of the few to experience complex and radical development across that same period. His journey from uncorrupted spirit to last of the great mythological evils to threaten Arda is therefore fascinating and worth a closer look.
We know from The Silmarillion that Sauron was a Maia and servant to Aulë the smith (20). Melkor and Aulë were ever in competition, and the fact that the former won over the greatest craftsman of the latter is significant. First of all, it seems to be a common theme for Tolkien. Consider, for example, Fëanor’s vacillation between the opposing influences of the two Vala and his wife Nerdanel’s specific commitment to Aulë. While Melkor is the personification of incorrect or immoral artistry and lurid possessiveness, Aulë is generous, open-hearted, and willing to submit his creations to the will of Ilúvatar. Melkor, and later Sauron, desire dominance; hence the One Ring, meant to bind in servitude the other Rings of Power. We know from the beginning, therefore, that Sauron is to be an artist who will ultimately choose to use his gifts for corrupt purposes.
Sauron’s fall is, however, of an altogether different kind than that of Melkor. Unlike his master, Sauron did not desire the annihilation of the world, but rather the sole possession of it (note how similarly Melkor corrupted Fëanor and Sauron). In fact, it was original Sauron’s virtue that drew him to Melkor: Tolkien writes that “he loved order and coordination, and disliked all confusion and wasteful friction. (It was the apparent will and power of Melkor to effect his designs quickly and masterfully that had first attracted Sauron to him)” (Morgoth’s Ring, hereafter MR, 396). Thus we can assume that in the beginning, Sauron was content with his participation in Ilúvatar’s Music: it was and remains the greatest example of creative participation in existence. Impatience and a tendency to be drawn in admiration by spirits more powerful and compelling than himself were his downfall. And indeed, as Tolkien notes, that tendency was but another perverted shadow of what was originally good: “the ability once in Sauron at least to admire or admit the superiority of a being other than himself” (MR 398)—a characteristic Melkor did not possess. It’s easy to see Sauron as the destructive Dark Lord of The Lord of the Rings, but Tolkien makes sure to emphasize that Sauron fell into the shadow of Melkor through the uncareful use of his virtues, not because he possessed some inherent flaw. Sauron was too quick to act, too fierce in his admiration of those greater than himself, and finally too devoted to order to notice that Melkor’s intentions were entirely egoistic and nihilistic (MR 396).
It’s only later, apparently, that Sauron truly falls into deception and wickedness. Offered a chance to repent and return to the circles of the Valar, Sauron refuses and escapes into hiding (MR 404). Before this, however, he works tirelessly as the chief captain of Melkor, now called Morgoth, and seems content in this position. It is Sauron who was, apparently, in charge of breeding and collecting Orcs for the armies of Morgoth, and for this reason he exerted greater control over them in his future endeavors than Morgoth himself (MR 419). At some point difficult to date, Sauron takes up residence at Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the Isle of Werewolves, where he is later met and defeated by Lúthien and Huan.
But before Sauron, the isle belonged to Tevildo, a demon in the physical form of a great cat, and it is this villain Lúthien meets when she comes flying from Doriath seeking her lover, Beren. Even at this point, and despite the cats, the germ of the later story is still apparent (The Book of Lost Tales 2, hereafter BLT2, 54). While the Nargothrond episode has not yet emerged, the contest between Huan and Tevildo foreshadows the struggles between Huan and Draugluin and wolf-Sauron. As Christopher Tolkien points out, though, it’s important not to assume that Tevildo became Sauron, or, in other words, that Sauron was once a cat (BLT2 53). Rather, Tevildo is merely a forerunner, and Sauron occupies the place in the narrative that Tevildo once held. But, as Christopher also notes, it’s not a simple replacement either, because many elements remain across the versions. After Tevildo is abandoned, Tolkien establishes the Lord of the Wolves, an “evil fay in beastlike shape,” on the isle. Finally, perhaps inevitably, Sauron takes the place of that apparition, and we’re given the tale of Lúthien’s assault on Tol-in-Gaurhoth in a relatively stable form.
Sauron’s first true defeat comes at the hands of Lúthien and Huan. The final story is slow to emerge, but eventually, we get the tale with which we’re so familiar. Lúthien, nearly despairing of finding Beren, comes with the help of Huan to Tol-in-Gaurhoth, and there sings a song of power that makes the isle tremble. Sauron sends out his beasts, but the hound of Valinor defeats each champion, even Draugluin the great wolf, until Sauron himself takes beast form and sallies out to meet his foe. But Huan seizes his throat without mercy, and though Sauron shifts shape many times he cannot escape. Lúthien then comes and commands Sauron to yield to her mastery of the isle; he does so, and when Huan releases him he takes the form of a great vampire and comes to Taur-nu-Fuin, the place where the warring powers of Melian and Sauron met and mingled in living horror (Sil 172-173).

Sauron continues to serve Morgoth up to the end: he’s put in command of Angband, and when the final battle is waged and Morgoth at last defeated, judged, and thrust through the Door of Night, it is to Angband that Sauron escapes, lurking in the shadows. His power only grows during this respite and he is looked upon as a god among the rough, untutored Men of Middle-earth.
At that time he took a fair form, seeming both wise and kind, and dwelt among the Elves. But this conception of Sauron only emerged for Tolkien when he wrote about Galadriel in The Lord of the Rings. In the early stages of drafting The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien wasn’t sure how the Rings fit into the legendarium’s great scope. He toyed with various ideas. At one point it is Fëanor who forges the Rings (again suggesting a sort of artistic kinship of Fëanor and Sauron in Tolkien’s thought), and Sauron later steals them from the Elves (The Treason of Isengard, hereafter TI, 255). But despite some quibbling over their creation, Tolkien was clear early on that the Rings were possessed by Sauron—even in the very early drafts, when the Ring is but a trinket that can do minor harm, it is still the Ring of the Necromancer, and Sauron is repeatedly called the Lord of the Ring(s) (The Return of the Shadow, hereafter RS, 80, 81). In later drafts, and perhaps because of Sauron’s newly acquired title, Tolkien suggests that all the Rings of Power were originally created by Sauron (RS 404), and that they were many. In this case Sauron gains early fame as a generous lord, a ring-giver, whose realm is prosperous and whose people are content and wealthy (RS 258).
Only later does the conviction that only the One Ring was made by Sauron appear, and by the same token Tolkien becomes convinced that the elvish rings were unsullied and thus could be used in their own merit and for good by those who wielded them (TI 254, 259). (He also suggests that Galadriel mistrusted “Annatar,” or Lord of Gifts, as he called himself, from the beginning, but Christopher finds this somewhat problematic.)
Gradually the story of Sauron’s treachery as told in The Lord of the Rings develops. The Elves do not suspect him until, in his forge, he puts on the One Ring, and suddenly they become aware of him and his true purpose. They take the three elven rings and escape, but Sauron takes and corrupts the others, giving them to his servants as he sees fit.
His power only continues to increase, until at last the great kings of Númenor of the West hear of him. Ar-Pharazôn, a foolish ruler rejecting the idea that any king in Arda could be more powerful than himself, summons Sauron to Númenor in a move calculated to humiliate him. But he is deceived. Early drafts depicting Sauron’s coming are intense and leave no room for confusion. As the ship approaches the island a great wave, high as a mountain, lifts it up and casts it upon a high hill. Sauron disembarks and from there preaches, an image that recalls Christ’s sermon on the mount and establishes Sauron’s dominance. He offers a message of “deliverance from death,” and he “beguile[s] them with signs and wonders. And little by little they turned their hearts toward Morgoth, his master; and he prophesied that ere long he would come again into the world” (The Lost Road and Other Writings, hereafter LR, 29). He also preaches imperialism, telling the Númenoreans that the earth is theirs for the taking, goading them to conquer the leaderless rabble of Middle-earth (LR 74). He attempts to teach them a new language, which he claims is the true tongue they spoke before it was corrupted by the Elves (LR 75). His teaching ushers in an age of modern warfare in Númenor, leading “to the invention of ships of metal that traverse the seas without sails […]; to the building of grim fortresses and unlovely towers; and to missiles that pass with a noise like thunder to strike their targets many miles away” (LR 84). Sauron’s conquest of Númenor is bombastic, showy, and nearly instantaneous. He comes on them like a messiah from the depths of the Sea.
Buy the Book


Fate of the Fallen
The tale as it is told in The Silmarillion is far subtler. In that account, Sauron “humble[s] himself before Ar-Pharazôn and smooth[s] his tongue; and men [wonder], for all that he [says] seem[s] fair and wise” (Sil 279). Gradually he seduces the king and the people by playing on their fears and their malcontent, feeding them lies wrapped in truth until he has gained such a hold that he builds a temple to Morgoth and offers human sacrifices upon its altars. In The Silmarillion he is much more a cunning, silver-tongued flatterer who ensnares Ar-Pharazôn by pretending to impart a secret spiritual knowledge. The significance here is that even at this point in his journey to world-threatening power, Sauron still looks on Morgoth as his master or even as a god—or God. He still, as pointed out much earlier, is willing to acknowledge and even celebrate a power greater than himself.
When the climax comes and Númenor is overturned in the Sea, Sauron is stripped of his physical body and condemned to never again take on a fair form. He slinks back to Middle-earth and his Ring, takes up residence in Mordor, and continues to grow in power and influence. Eventually, as is now well known, he comes to such ascendancy that the great kings of Middle-earth, Elves and Men, band together in the Last Alliance and make war upon him. He is defeated when Isildur (first an elf and only later the son of Elendil), cuts the Ring from his finger. Elendil, before he dies, prophesies Sauron’s return with dark words (TI 129).
Sauron, stripped once again of his physical form, retreats to Dol Guldur in Mirkwood (which was originally in Mordor and also equated with Taur-nu-Fuin; see LR 317, RS 218), where he simmers malevolently while regaining his strength. The Ring, famously, passes out of knowledge when Isildur is killed while escaping Orcs.
The rest of the story is familiar, and interestingly, Sauron’s part in it undergoes little revision even while the rest of the narrative is in constant upheaval. A few details are different. At one point, Gandalf looks in the Stone of Orthanc and upon (presumably) encountering Sauron, tells the Dark Lord he’s too busy to talk—and “hangs up” (The War of the Ring, hereafter WR, 71-72). At another point, Tolkien planned to have Gandalf and Sauron parley together, suggesting that the Dark Lord would have to leave Mordor and appear in person and with dialogue—none of which he gets in the finished Lord of the Rings (indeed, the Dark Lord of the published narrative is glaringly absent, which makes his power all the more terrifying). In the original conception of Frodo’s temptation at the Cracks of Doom, Tolkien even toyed with the idea of having Sauron bargain with the hobbit, promising him (falsely, no doubt) a joint share in his rule if he turned over the Ring (RS 380). Other than these minor (and sometimes humorous) potential alternatives, however, the Sauron of The Lord of the Rings’s early drafts is the Sauron at the end of all things.
In all, Sauron’s character is remarkably consistent and coherent throughout the drafts, if we believe, as Christopher Tolkien assures us that we must, that Tevildo Prince of Cats is in no way Sauron himself (as Sauron existed as a distinct figure before Tevildo, this is undoubtedly correct). Sauron’s journey from an overeager, artistic Maia to Dark Lord and Nameless One illustrates several significant themes in Tolkien’s legendarium. First of all it insists, like Fëanor’s history, that improper uses of creativity and artistry, especially when combined with a possessive, domineering spirit, are irreparably corruptive. It also urges us to consider what Tolkien believed were the destructive effects of machines and, perhaps more specifically, mechanized thinking. “The world is not a machine that makes other machines after the fashion of Sauron,” Tolkien wrote in an abandoned draft of The Lost Road (LR 53). Sauron, who passionately desired order and perfect, rote production, had a mind of metal and gears, as was once said of Saruman. Sauron saw the beauty of a cooperation that naturally produces order (the Music), but instead of allowing an organic or creative participation to develop naturally, he became enamored of the kind of order that could be produced—enforced—by domination and tyranny. Sauron’s story is a warning. “‘Nothing is evil in the beginning,’” Elrond says, perhaps a trifle sadly. “‘Even Sauron was not so’” (LotR 267).
Top image: “The Temple of Melkor” by Elena Kukanova
Megan N. Fontenot is a hopelessly infatuated Tolkien fan and scholar, but she also studies Catholicism, eco-paganism, and ethno-nationalism in the long nineteenth century. And did she mention Tolkien? Give her a shoutout on Twitter @MeganNFontenot1!
Wonderfully written, thank you!
Sauron’s devotion to Morgoth always fascinated me as well. There’s a great little spoken-word track on Blind Guardian’s classic “Nightfall in Middle Earth” (a concept album based entirely on “The Silmarillion”) which imagines the final exchange between Dark Lord and Lieutenant at the end of the War of Wrath. Sauron urges Morgoth to escape through the hidden tunnels beneath Angband, but Morgoth (likely still motivated by pride) refuses and orders Sauron to escape instead, telling him, “My servant you’ll be for all time.”
It really serves to illustrate how mighty Melkor was in the beginning, that a spirit as powerful and cunning as Sauron could never shake the figurative bonds that his master put him in. Although part of me wonders if Sauron didn’t use the name of Morgoth in Numenor simply as a tool to better corrupt its people, knowing full well that his master wasn’t coming back any time soon.
Either way, considering how thoroughly Morgoth had dominated Sauron, props to Hurin for having the will to resist him for as long as he did (even if Morgoth was greatly diminished in power by then).
That was marvelous, Megan. . . thank you!
“Although part of me wonders if Sauron didn’t use the name of Morgoth in Numenor simply as a tool to better corrupt its people, knowing full well that his master wasn’t coming back any time soon.”
Especially with the later version of his coming to Numenor, as a captive whose armies had fled the Host *despite* the One Ring. Probably easier to get people worshipping some distant false god than a humiliated captive they can see.
And even at the peak of his power, his power over the physical world was only so great. Again, might be easier to put himself as heir and agent of the true but absent power.
BTW, one fanfic has a creation story that Sauron might have taught his subjects: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240461
I had totally forgotten about Blind Guardian! Loved that CD.
One of my favorite passages in the entire trilogy is when Pippin looks into the palantir. I have this image of the Lord Sauron the Great, survivor of the War of Wrath and the Wreck of Numenor, peering into the glass and saying, genuinely puzzled, “Who ARE you?”
6: That is funny, though Sauron had already personally met Gollum and learned about hobbits. Granted Pippin would be the first non-withered hobbit he saw, but Sauron might have ‘seen’ others in Gollum’s memories.
I always enjoy reading your essays, this one being no exception!
However, I do feel like I need to comment on one paragraph in particular where you simplify things a little too much.
“Sauron continues to serve Morgoth up to the end: he’s put in command of Angband, and when the final battle is waged and Morgoth at last defeated, judged, and thrust through the Door of Night, it is to Angband that Sauron escapes, lurking in the shadows. His power only grows during this respite and he is looked upon as a god among the rough, untutored Men of Middle-earth.”
This happens at two different points in time. After the elves awaken and the Valar come to Middle-Earth to wage war against Melkor for their sake, they take Melkor captive but can’t find Mairon who is indeed in charge of Angband. So Mairon gets to hide there during the three ages of Melkor’s captivity during the Years of the Trees. Melkor then returns with the Silmarils, the Wars of Beleriand happen, and Sauron is defeated by Lúthien and Huan and hides in Taur-nu-Fuin. Now we never hear whether he actually returns to Melkor or not at that point.
After the War of Wrath, Mairon seeks out Eönwe asking for forgiveness. Eönwe tells him that he can’t give him that and that he needs to go to Valinor and ask the Valar in person. Which Sauron/Mairon is unwilling to do for whichever reason, so he escapes and goes back into hiding. When he re-emerges, it’s in the south of Middle-Earth where he interacts with the men there and they indeed come to see him as a god.
I would like to add that I’m also in the camp that thinks that Sauron only used Melkor’s name in Númenor because he was sure he wasn’t coming back.
All that said, keep up the amazing work! :)
In notes published in the journal Parma Eldalamberon, we learn: “Sauron’s original name was Mairon, but this was altered after he was suborned by Melkor. But he continued to call himself Mairon the Admirable, or Tar-mairon ‘King Excellent’, until after the downfall of Númenor.”
The adjective maira is defined in the same source as “admirable, excellent, precious” or “splendid, sublime” – “only [used] of great, august or splendid things”.
This puts a shocking and sinister cast on the way that everyone who comes into possession of the One Ring refers to it – and indeed addresses it – as precious.
If the Ring is made of an aspect or fragment of Sauron’s being, it seems that it both knows and demands his original name.
Excellent as always. Two comments.
Tevildo would have eaten Huan for lunch. #TevildorulesHuandroolsMeow!
It’s a little-known fact that Sauron invented computers as well as email and Twitter. Hence his disguise when he attempted to corrupt the Elves in the early Second Age:
Anatar, Lord of GIFs.
Dr. Thanatos, that was painful. Here, have an upvote as a mark of my disdain.
I already mentioned this during the Silmarillion Primer, but my favorite fanfic characterization of Sauron ever is thearrogantemu’s These Gifts That You Have Given Me.
Thank YOU! I might also recommend http://saurongorthaur.blogspot.com/.
I apologize; it appears that those fiendish Valar and their hairy-footed minions have taken down Sauron’s Blog (which I hope will return because it was HILARIOUS).
And like a Balrog’s wings, which however many times they are clipped always come back,
http://saurongorthaur.blogspot.com/ (subtitled “I am NOT an evil lighthouse!”
This is great – I love the idea that Sauron is an example of virtue twisted. In a way it’s similar to CS Lewis’s quote about the tyranny of moralists. And in general I think it does fit in a lot with Tolkien’s other themes and writings.
I imagine Sauron’s slow/subtle corruption of Numenor as something like Palpatine laying his hooks into Anakin in Revenge of the Sith.
@9 – that is fascinating :)
I’m still sad we lost Telvido though.
I would have loved to see how Tolkien would have written the parley between Gandalf and Sauron (even if it still never made it into the final LotR). That’s an encounter that has “epic battle of words” written all over it. Then again, I wonder if it might not have been similar to Gandalf’s parley with the Mouth of Sauron.
At any rate, great piece!
When was Sauron called “Wizard”? Just curious.
“Tevildo would have eaten Huan for lunch. #TevildorulesHuandroolsMeow!”
Doesn’t Huan actually kick his ass in the one text that has Tevildo?
“my favorite fanfic characterization of Sauron ever is thearrogantemu’s These Gifts That You Have Given Me. “
Yeah, that’s pretty cool. Also a nice development of Eregion under the Jewel-Smiths, extrapolating from what little we know. “You need gates, so that they can be open.” — Narvi
Note: this Annatar was plausibly not planning deceit from the very beginning, though he was clearly morality-challenged. I get a sense more of “so what’s going on here, then?” Though we don’t get his POV, so it’s ambiguous.
There’s also an AU fic of the same story, where Celebrimbor manages to talk Sauron (not Annatar) down.
@18,
Like many others, you have been taken in by those lying valar and their syncophantic propogandists, the Elves, whose account of that overblown chihuahua with delusions of eloquence taking down our Great Master Tevildo is too preposterous to believe. Meow.
Sauron the Well-Meaning:
I am reminded of Smeagol’s new motto “Always ready to help.”
great post, thank you
So Sauron was an engineer? Cool, I have something to aspire to, besides not being a robot.
I first encountered LoTR when professor Tolkien was still alive. A long suffering English teacher decided that if I had to read stuff that wasn’t assigned classwork in her class (all of which I blitzed through in the first weeks), it should be something good, and handed me the Ballantine PB editions of LoTR. I had to push myself through the first 100 pages of Fellowship, but then the story kicked in, and I finished the books over the weekend. I was one of those folks who spent more time in the Appendices of LoTR teasing out rhe backstory than I did in the main narrative, and could once do passable Quenya calligraphy.
I have most of the stuff Tolkien wrote, including the annotated manuscript variants his son Christopher issued. It is fascinating to see the way the conception grew over time as Tolkien worked on it. But while I haven’t delved as deeply into them as Megan has, I’m not comfortable with some conclusions she draws. Part of the issue is the steadily advancing nature of Tolkien’s conception as he works on it over the years. I think we have to consider the version as presented in LoTR and the Silmarillion as canonical, with the earlier stuff fascinating in the manner in which it transformed, but the latter version should be considered definitive.
And one thing I think must be kept in mind is that Tolkien was a devout Roman Catholic, and Christian theology underlies that of LoTR.
Eru (called Iluvatar by the Elves) is God. Melkor (later Morgoth) is the Satan analog. I was tickled by Tokien’s version of the creation myth. Eru exists in the Void. He creates the Timeless Halls and establishes himself there. Once established, he creates the Valar (archangels) and Maiar (lesser angels to serve the Valar. As they are created, they sing. Eru makes them a heavenly orchestra, and propounds themes of music. They sing those thesmes, each interpreting them as befits its nature and abilities. The Music of the Ainur brings forth a vision of Arda, the world, that so entrances many of the Ainur that they beg Eru to make it rel so they may dwell there and labor to make it into what was revealed in the vision. Eru does so, and they enter and begin a great work.
Melkor is the greatest and most powerful of the Valar. In Christian terms, he is afflicted with the sins of pride and envy. He wants to make his own music, and do his own creation. He is a source of discord in the Music, and various Maiar near him fall under his domination, Sauron is one. The Balrog of Moria is another.
And Melkor fails at doing his own creation. He can create living beings, but they live only when he specifically bends his will on them. He lacks the Imperishable Fire Eru uses to hallow his creations.
(The Valar Aule has the same problem in his attempt to create the Dwarves. He knows what is in store for Arda, and wants a people stone hard to endure Morgoth who share his love for making things by craft. Aule is abashed when Eru discovers his attempt, but Eru essentially says “You really thought I would not be aware of what you were doing?”, and chooses to approve Aule’s work and hallow the Fathers of the Dwarves to allow them independent existence.)
Melkor thinks Eru has paid insufficient attention to the Void, and enters and searches it, looking for the Imperishable Fire. Since it’s part of Eru, he doesn’t find it. His time spent wandering in the Void further estranges him from the other Ainur.
Unable to do his own creation, Melkor is consumed by envy and spite. He cannot create, so he lashes out and despoils. An ongoing war between Melkor and the other Valar takes up the early part of the First Age as the Valar build things and Melkor destroys them. Since he cannot create living beings, he turns to ruining some that exist. The earliest Orcs, for example, are ruined Elves. Since Elves are immortal within the life of the world, I have to wonder precisely how old some of the Orcs in LoTR are, and whether they too can be slain but don’t die of natural causes.
The First Age ends when Earlindel uses the power of a Silmaril to find his way to Valinor, and speaking as ambassador for both Elves and Men convinced the Valar to intervene. The Host of Valinor travels to Middle Earth and makes war on Morgoth. Thangorodrim is destroyed, and Morgoth is dragged forth by the Valar Tulkas the strong, bound in chains forged by Aule, and stuffed out into the Void.
It’s pretty clearly stated that Sauron is essentially holding the fort for Morgoth, trying to make Middle Earth what Morgoth wants against his eventual return. This, too, is Christian theology. In standard Christian theology, there will be an Apocalypse, and the final defeat of Satan and the forces of Evil by God, Tolkien’s theology presumes a similar Apocalypse, where Morgoth will find a way to return, there will be a final battle in which evil is utterly vanquished, and Ainur, Elves, Dwarves and Men will participate in a second Music which will produce a proper version of the world revealed by the first Music.
So no, I don’t think Sauron thought that Morgoth wasn’t returning when he spun his tales to Al-Pharazon the Golden, telling him he too could be immortal. All he needed to do was possess and live in Valinor. He was still essentially loyal to Morgoth and trying to do as he though his master wished.
The Ainur were originally beings of pure spirit. They could incarnate in physical bodies to act in Arda. Wheb Sauron is caught in the wreck of Numenor, his physical body is destroyed, but his spirit is not, and returns to Middle Earth. It simply takes some time before he regains enough strength to incarnate in a physical body again, and he can no longer assume a form pleasing to men and Elves. His physical body is killed again the the last combat on the slopes of Orodruin that ends the Second Age when Isuldir cuts off the finger that wears the One Ring to obtain it. Again, it takes him significant time to regenerate.
And I did encounter a fascinating fanfic set in a later part of the fourth Age. Men now dominate Arda, and have developed technology. In particular, they can travel into space. They find a way to penetrate the barrier surrounding Arda and reach the Void. They find Morgoth and bring him back, not understanding who and what he is. Things go to Hell in a hand basket in short order…
>Dennis
The Silmarillion isn’t exceptionally canonical. It’s not a collection of Tolkien’s latest ideas, but the most coherent stitching-together that his son could create at the time. By the time he died Tolkien was having some radical revision ideas about the cosmology (closer to real astronomy, no flat world, no sun-flower), but didn’t get far with them. And AIUI some of his notes emerged after Christopher published the Silmarillion, so Chris wasn’t even working with full information.
The History of Middle-Earth starts with some very early ideas (Book of Lost Tales) and includes earlier versions of LotR, but there are also later ideas. In particular, Tolkien didn’t like “orcs are corrupted elves”, but was never happy with any alternative, either. The only really canonical thing one could say about orc origins is that Morgoth made them somehow; the details were never settled.
Really enjoyed this essay. Very encompassing and thoughtful.