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I'm generally very much supportive of different takes on characters in the Silmarillion because a lot of stuff is really vague and can be interpreted in a lot of ways.

However, it is wild to me that some people interpret Feanor as being on the same level (or worse) of villainy as Morgoth. Like, you guys do you, but to me, that is not a reasonable comparison. Feanor stole some boats, engaged in one potentially unintentional act of mass violence in the course of a confusing situation, and did one count of arson. Morgoth infused his evil will into the very heart/core/fabric of Arda so much so that it is still there even after both he and Sauron faced their ultimate defeats and it cannot be undone by any force in Arda other than Eru himself. Not to mention all the torture, slavery, manipulation, and murder he did for hundreds of years both before and after his initial imprisonment in Mandos. Like I'm not trying to absolve Feanor of his actions, but compared to Morgoth, they cast a far smaller shadow.

Feanor and Morgoth have one thing in common in the fact that they both stole something that was important to someone else and committed violence during the act of the theft. But honestly, given everything else Morgoth does in the course of the Silmarillion, I think it's pretty silly to put Feanor anywhere near Morgoth when it comes to villainy.

Random moments from The Silmarillion part 4

Best uncle 🌟🌟

(the age here are probably not canon but hey, i'm free 🫡)

Family Happiness

Evening had fallen upon Tyrion, but Finwë's chambers were alive with light. The king listened with delight to young Macalaurë's new work, a quiet but surprisingly profound motif that spoke of longing for distant lands and the majesty of Aman. Finwë, now free to consider himself a musical expert, was immensely proud that his grandson could express his feelings so skilfully through melody.

Next to him sat Maitimo, the eldest of the grandchildren. He studied the map intently, tracing the winding lines of the roads with his finger. Plans and dreams of wanderlust stirred his thoughts, and Finwë smiled warmly at the eagerness in the eyes of a grandson who knew the world only through stories.

Finwë felt at the pinnacle of happiness. His son, Feanaro, had found someone who shared his passion and thoughts, and now, sitting on the terrace with Nerdanel, they quietly discussed plans for a new journey through Aman, where every corner held ancient wisdom and every stone held its secrets. They planned to visit places hidden even from prying eyes, ancient rock formations to which they were both drawn as craftsmen and creators.

But the king suspected there was more to these plans. Feanaro's eyes shone with the same brilliance as they had years ago when he first met Nerdanel. Though they discussed routes, Finwë noticed how their voices sometimes fell silent, and the same spark that ignited when someone dear to him was near.

As if chuckling to himself, Finwë wondered if he might soon have a new grandson.

Feanor: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Fingolfin: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks he can get away with everything, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Feanor: I’m leaving and I’M TAKING ATAR WITH ME

Finarfin, picking up the board game: Aaaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today

Morwen and Hurin

Son and Heir (gouache practice)

Tolkien writing kingdoms' moral decay and eventual decline: they exploited nature, destroyed forests and cut down trees

Tolkien writing male characters' moral decay and eventual decline: he stopped listening to his wife

Galadriel's Song of Eldamar

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:

Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.

Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,

And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.

Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,

In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.

There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,

While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.

O Lórien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;

The leaves are falling in the stream, the river flows away.

O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore

And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.

But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,

What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?

-- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring --

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