Here is the passage in question:
Leave it to Verlyn to find the significant in a seemingly throwaway line. It is quite true that I did not pursue the implications in Arda Reconstructed, the purpose of which was not to explore the meaning behind Tolkien's work, but rather to explore how the published version was created. However, it is a subject well worth exploring, and one that I have long considered. Verlyn's conclusion is surprising for someone who is such a big proponent of Tolkien's work. After describing how the role of the Silmarils evolved from the earliest version in the Book of Lost Tales (in which the Silmarils do not capture the light of the Trees and are merely gems among other gems) to the point when they reach basically their final form in the earliest Quenta, before the writing of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, she concludes "[t]hat the message is not clear ... may be a function of the discrepancy between the height of Tolkien's ambition, the intractability of his material, and the limitations of his skill at the time. Like many poets, his reach exceeded his grasp."Discussing Bilbo's "Song of Eärendil" at Rivendell, Shippey points out (as we have seen) that "Eärendil's star [a Silmail] appears to be a victory-emblem, 'the Flammifer of Westerness,' and yet is associated with loss and homelessness, with the weeping of woment" (Road 194, my emphasis). Shippey's "and yet" highlights the disconnect -- not just in the poem but also in the "Silmarillion" as a whole -- between the positive connotations of Light and the negative impact of the Silmarils. In Arda Reconstructed Douglas Kane went a bit farther to remark that the "holy jewels ... alone preserved the 'pure' Light, yet also generated so much of the strife described in these tales" (23). Although Kane did not pursue the implications, his "yet also," like Shippey's "and yet," acknowledged the contradiction between preserving pure light and generating strife that distinguishes the Silmarils from the other artifacts.
It is hard to argue with this conclusion. Certainly, as both Tom and Verlyn note, "Tolkien's own efforts to say what The Silmarillion was 'about' were never completely illuminating," (pun intended). Certainly, the tale "grew in the telling" without any obvious plan that can be discerned from Tolkien's own words. And yet ... and yet ... there is something that I at least find incredibly powerful about the idea of these most holy objects being the source of so much strife and evil. This contradiction surely does not conform with Tolkien's strongly held Catholic beliefs (at least so far as I can say, being no theologist). But it does conform with my own view of the world, which rarely fits into neat patterns of good and evil, and in which opposite of what is expected is often what occurs. And perhaps there is a Jobian element of "the universe is beyond our understanding" that Tolkien himself would appreciate, whether or not he intended it. Or perhaps he fully well understood how powerful this contradiction was, and just never said so, or rather was never recorded in saying so. For myself, however, it is a big part of what makes 'the Silmarillion' so great.
What say you?
Sorry? That was quoted directly from the SIL, p150 in my copy: