This week in our read of The Shadow Rising, we get to travel to another world and meet a new species! We also get to watch a lot of stupid couples fights. Also, Loial is fabulous and Lan speaks poetry.
Chapter 15 opens with Mat sneaking down into the Great Hold to find the twisted doorway ter’angreal. He is both dismissive and a little bit awed by the cluttered arrangement of objects in the Hold, as well as dismissive and awed by the doorway itself, which appears very plain except for the three sinuous lines carved in it, and stands almost as if suspended by an invisible cord hanging from the ceiling. When Mat steps through, he finds himself blinded by a curtain of white light into a huge, round hall with yellow columns and lit by strange glowing spheres. He is greeted by a strange being dressed in yellow, tall and thin with hair that reminds Mat of a snake’s scales and pupils like vertical slits.
After making sure that Mat has not brought iron, fire, or musical instruments “according to the agreement” he leads Mat down corridors that wind on in a way that does not seem to make sense and are lined with windows that show them passing the same spires and trees over and over. The walk seems to go on forever, and Mat has to stop himself from asking how long it will take, not wanting to waste one of his three questions. Finally, he’s brought to another room, and his guide instructs him to “enter and ask.”
In this room he finds three beings, two of which seem female to him, wearing red and sitting cross-legged atop high pedestals. As the guide had done, they also remark how long it has been, but now the seekers are coming again. In unison they command him to“Enter and ask, according to the agreement of old.”
Mat is more than a little uncomfortable in their strange presence, but he is determined not to be put off now, and carefully outlines his situation for them before asking his first question—“Should I go home to help my people?”
“Three sets of slitted eyes lifted from him—reluctantly, it seemed—and studied the air above his head. Finally the woman on the left said, “You must go to Rhuidean.”
As soon as she spoke their eyes all dropped to him again, and they leaned forward, breathing deeply again, but at that moment a bell tolled, a sonorous brazen sound that rolled through the room. They swayed upright, staring at one another, then at the air over Mat’s head again.
“He is another,” the woman on the left whispered. “The strain. The strain.”
“The savor,” the man said. “It has been long.”
“There is yet time,” the other woman told them. She sounded calm—they all did—but there was a sharpness to her voice when she turned back to Mat. “Ask. Ask.”
But Mat is completely thrown by their command to go to Rhuidan, and demands to know why he should do such a thing. He tells them they are supposed to answer his questions, not hand him riddles.
The beings respond that if he doesn’t go to Rhuidan, he will die, and again the bell tolls, louder this time. They exclaim that the strain is too great, and press him for his last question. Mat asks why he will die if he does not go to Rhuidan.
The man cut him off and spoke hurriedly. “You will have sidestepped the thread of fate, left your fate to drift on the winds of time, and you will be killed by those who do not want that fate fulfilled. Now, go. You must go! Quickly!”
Mat does not want to go, shaking off his guide who has suddenly reappeared at his side as he demands clearer answers, and curses them out for distracting him from the questions he meant to ask. More yellow-clad beings appear, and although Mat fights them, they catch him up and carry him out of the room. But not before Mat can get in another question, what fate he will have side-stepped.
The three were on their feet atop the pedestals, and he could not tell which shrieked which answer.
“To marry the Daughter of the Nine Moons!”
“To die and live again, and live once more a part of what was!”
“To give up half the light of the world to save the world!”
Together they howled like steam escaping under pressure. “Go to Rhuidean, son of battles! Go to Rhuidean, trickster! Go, gambler! Go!”
With that Mat is carried off, as the very walls shake with the tolling bell, and bodily hurled back through the ter’angreal. He tries to jump back through it again, but this time remains in the Hold, as though the door really were just an ordinary doorframe. He’s taken to shouting at the door about how he won’t marry a noblewoman, or anyone until he’s too old to have any fun, when suddenly the doorway activates again and Rand backs through, holding his flaming sword. He’s as surprised to see Mat as Mat is to see him.
Mat admits that he went through, and comments that he thinks the snake people were a bunch of liars. But Rand disagrees, and admits that they were afraid of him from the first, and even more afraid of his sword.
Once again someone steps out of the doorway, Moiraine this time. She looks furious as soon as she sees them.
“You! You were both in there. That is why…!” She made a vexed hiss. “One of you would have been bad enough, but two ta’veren at once—you might have torn the connection entirely and been trapped there. Wretched boys playing with things you do not know the danger of. Perrin! Is Perrin in there, too? Did he share your… exploit?”
Mat remarks pithily that the last he saw of Perrin, he was getting ready for bed, and Moiraine demands which of the girls told them of the doorway. Rand answers that he learned it in some books, and Mat hides behind that answer too—he’s not opposed to getting Egwene in trouble, but getting on Moiraine’s nerves is even better. Still, he can tell that she doesn’t believe him, nor does she believe him when she questions them about their experiences. Rand won’t reveal the answers he learned, but does admit that getting them was difficult, that they had to bring in a translator of some kind. Moiraine explains that they were speaking a rather harsh dialect of the Old Tongue, and Mat lies and says that he couldn’t understand them, and that he was thrown back through the doorway without getting a chance to ask anything.
Moiraine tells them that the beings get sensation, in exchange for the answers they give, sensations and emotions and experiences that one can feel them rummaging through. Rand asks if they can be sure the answers are true.
“The answers are true,” Moiraine said slowly, “so long as they are in regard to your own future. That much is certain.” She watched Rand, and himself, weighing the effect of her words. “As to how, though, there is only speculation. That world is … folded … in strange ways. I cannot be clearer. It may be that that allows them to read the thread of a human life, read the various ways it may yet be woven into the Pattern. Or perhaps it is a talent of the people. The answers are often obscure, however. If you need help working out what yours mean, I offer my services.” Her eyes flickered from one of them to the other, and Mat nearly swore. She did not believe him about no answers. Unless it was simply general Aes Sedai suspicion.
Rand gave her a slow smile. “And will you tell me what you asked, and what they answered?”
Moiraine just looks at him for a long moment, then channels herself a light and heads towards the exit. Mat knows he should be grateful she’s letting the matter drop, but in his anger at the beings he calls after her, asking why you can’t go there twice. He just stops himself from asking about the musical instruments and iron, remembering that he can’t know about these things if he didn’t understand their speech. But Moiriane only replies—with a look back at Rand—that if she knew everything, she wouldn’t need to ask questions. And then she leaves.
When they’re alone, Rand asks Mat if he found out what he wanted. “Did you?” Mat counters, and Rand makes a flame that hovers over his palm and also starts for the door. Mat asks if Rand is really going to let Perrin go alone, and allow Whitecloaks do whatever they want to Emond’s Field. Rand answers that Perrin will do what he has to do to save Emond’s Field, and that he must do what he has to do, or even more than Emond’s Field will suffer, and from things much worse than Whitecloaks.
Perrin gets up when he starts to see the dawn light, having already been awake for at least an hour. He has to work his bruised shoulder until it’s less stiff, although it’s still painful. He had plenty of nightmares the night before, dreaming of mounting a gallows as Faile watched, or tried to stop it and was cut down by Whitecloaks. Sometimes wolves came out of the woods to help them and then were killed, alongside them.
Eager to escape his dreams and get on his way, Perrin washes quickly and hurries out of the room and down the hall, where he finds servants cleaning up the evidence of battle under the direction of the majhere. Perrin can still smell the blood, though.
He finds Loial in his Ogier-sized rooms, surrounded by books and, for some reason, a huge amount of flowers. But he’s caught by the knot on Loial’s head and the limp as the Ogier walks. He feels guilty for worrying that Loial will not be able to travel, and points out that Moiraine could Heal him. But Loial assures Perrin that the injuries aren’t bad, and that there are many more gravely wounded who need the Aes Sedai’s help. He’s more worried about making sure he’s correctly recorded all the details from the battle in his book, as he didn’t see most of what happened.
Faile appears from behind a bank of flowers—the heavy blooms having concealed her from both Perrin’s sight and his keen sense of smell—to report that Loial is a hero.
“He gathered as many children as he could—and some of their mothers—into a large room, and held the door alone against Trollocs and Myrddraal through the entire fight. These flowers are from the women of the Stone, tokens to honor his steadfast courage, his faithfulness.” She made “steadfast” and “faithfulness” crack like whips.
Perrin managed not to flinch, but only just. What he had done was right, but he could not expect her to see it. Even if she knew why, she would not see it. It was the right thing. It was. He only wished he felt better about the entire matter. It was hardly fair that he could be right and still feel in the wrong.
Loial, embarrassed, insists that he isn’t a hero, but Faile continues to harp on it, insisting that there isn’t “a woman in the Stone who would not marry you, if you were human, and some would anyway. Loial well named, for your nature is loyalty. Any woman could love that.”
But that was the wrong move, and Perrin, who knows Loial better than Faile does, recognizes it instantly. Loial tells them how he saw another Ogier, Laefar, in the city, who told Loial that the Elders of his stedding have named him a runaway, and that his mother has picked someone out for him to marry. Perrin tells Loial that he has to go back to the Two Rivers, and that Loial’s mother won’t find him there—when Loial hesitates, not wanting to be separate from Rand and his story, Perrin outlines his problem and how he needs Loial to guide him through the Ways, although he still leaves out the reason the Whitecloaks are after him.
Loial is ready to help when Faile interrupts, reminding Loial that he swore to her that he would take her through the Ways, wherever she wanted, and before he took everyone else. Loial tries to dissemble, but Faile holds fast to the fact that he swore. And Ogier never break an oath.
“She tricked you, Loial.” Perrin wondered if they could hear his teeth grinding. “She deliberately tricked you.”
Red stained Faile’s cheeks, but she still had the nerve to say, “Only because I had to, Loial. Only because a fool man thinks he can order my life to suit himself. I’d not have done it, otherwise. You must believe that.”
“Doesn’t it make any difference that she tricked you?” Perrin demanded, and Loial shook his massive head sadly.
When Loial learns that Faile intends to go to the Two Rivers, though, he thinks all his problems are solved. But Faile reminds him again that part of the promise was that it would be no one else allowed to come with them, unless they asked her. Perrin, furious, refuses to ask, and the conversation bounces unhelpfully back and forth, with Loial caught in the middle and Perrin threatening to follow them in the Ways and Loial worrying that Perrin will get lost, or caught by Machin Shin, until Faile at last agrees to “allow” Perrin to follow as close as he needs to to be safe, as long as it is clear that he is still following her, trailing behind her like a puppy. Even the departure time becomes contentious, with Perrin wanting to leave as soon as possible, and Faile angrily declaring that they leave 0n her say so, and setting the departure time for two hours. Perrin, in turn, speaks only to Loial and ignores her, infuriating Faile.
When Perrin leaves, however, he is approached by Gaul, who informs him that Rand told some of the Aiel about Perrin’s plan to go to the Two Rivers, asking them to go with him. Gaul is not sure if anyone else will choose to, but he himself wants to come if Perrin will allow it. Perrin is surprised and delighted, the concept of having Aiel with him opening up a whole new realm of possibilities that might not include Perrin’s own death.
Meanwhile, Nynaeve, Elayne and Egwene are finishing their packing and discussing Rand’s reaction to Elayne telling him that she’s leaving. She’s upset that he took it so easily, in fact seemed relieved, and feels self-conscious because she left him a letter laying her heart out to him. Egwene is similarly frustrated, for some reason.
Just then the door bursts open, startling the women so much that both Egwene and Elayne embraces saidar, but it’s just Lan, although he’s furious enough that Elayne doesn’t really feel the need to let go of saidar just yet.
Lan did not appear to see anyone but Nynaeve. “You let me believe you were returning to Tar Valon,” he rasped at her.
“You may have believed it,” she said calmly, “but I never said it.”
“Never said it? Never said it! You spoke of leaving today, and always linked your leaving with those Darkfriends being sent to Tar Valon. Always! What did you mean me to think?”
“But I never said—”
“Light, woman!” he roared. “Do not bandy words with me!”
Elayne and Egwene are struck by the reversal of roles; Lan, who has a will of iron and yet seems now almost at a breaking point, and Nynaeve, usually so quick to fly off the handle, and yet now facing him as cooly as stone. He controls himself, outwardly at least, and demands to at least know why they are going to Tanchico, reminding them that they are only Accepted, and that Tanchico is no place for anyone except a full Aes Sedai with a Warder at her back. But Nynaeve reminds him that he has sworn to obey Moiraine, and that she must have her reasons for not telling him.
Still, Lan points out that they need someone to keep them safe, and that he could protect her. Elayne is shocked at the suggestion, but Nynaeve reminds him that his place is with Moiraine and shows him the letter from the Amyrlin for good measure. Lan is shocked, of course, but Nynaeve only tells him to count himself lucky that she doesn’t command him to dance for her.
“Do you not? You dispose of me very neatly. My bond, and my oaths. This letter.” Lan had a dangerous gleam in his eye, which Nynaeve seemed not to notice as she took back the letter and replaced it in the pouch on her belt.
“You are very full of yourself, al’Lan Mandragoran. We do as we must, as you will.”
“Full of myself, Nynaeve al’Meara? I am full of myself?” Lan moved so quickly toward Nynaeve that Elayne very nearly wrapped him in flows of Air before she could think. One moment Nynaeve was standing there, with just time to gape at the tall man sweeping toward her; the next her shoes were dangling a foot off the floor and she was being quite thoroughly kissed. At first she kicked his shins and hammered him with her fists and made sounds of frantic, furious protest, but her kicks slowed and stopped, and then she was holding on to his shoulders and not protesting at all.
Egwene averts her eyes but Elayne watches with interest, wondering if she looked like that when Rand kissed her, and considering if she would have been better off writing a different kind of letter, one that let him know she was not to be trifled with. When Lan releases Nynaeve from the kiss she complains angrily about being manhandled for all the world to see, but Lan doesn’t care.
“Not the whole world,” he replied. “But if they can see, they can hear as well. You have made a place in my heart where I thought there was no room for anything else. You have made flowers grow where I cultivated dust and stones. Remember this, on this journey you insist on making. If you die, I will not survive you long.” He gave Nynaeve one of his rare smiles. If it did not exactly soften his face, at least it made it less hard. “And remember also, I am not always so easily commanded, even with letters from the Amyrlin.” He made an elegant bow; for a moment Elayne thought he actually meant to kneel and kiss Nynaeve’s Great Serpent ring. “As you command,” he murmured, “so do I obey.” It was difficult to tell whether he meant to be mocking or not.
Nynaeve waits until he leaves to sit down heavily, and the girls discuss his reaction and point out to Nynaeve that he was ready to go with her, which is what she has wanted the whole time. But Nynaeve replies that she doesn’t want that broken oath hanging between them. In the meantime, they have work to do, and it is time to be going. They have a slightly tearful farewell, and Egwene remarks a little self-consciously that it’s good Lan left, as he would think they were being foolish. But Nynaeve replies that he would not.
Elayne decides that she will write a new letter, that Nyenave is right and men need a firm hand.
….Rand would find he could not get away from her so easily. And he would not find it easy to worm his way back into her good graces.
Okay you all know that I ship Nynaeve and Lan hardcore, and this chapter was almost perfect. But I hate that bit where Nynaeve fights the kiss at first before relenting; whether or not she was only struggling out of principle, it still plays into that trope of women needing to be persuaded and cajoled into enjoying sex and sexual situations. On its own it can seem innocuous enough, but the prevalence of such scenes in fiction and the resulting application in real life makes it another matter. Consent is consent, and just because society is more conscious of that now than we were in 1992 doesn’t make it less icky.
That being said, the romantic declaration Lan gives is beautiful, in the best kind of overly-dramatic, cheesy way. “You have made flowers grow where I cultivated dust and stones”? Ugh, Lan, you poetical bastard. And I can’t blame Nynaeve if she enjoys having the tables turned, getting to tell him that circumstances don’t allow the romantic choices he wants, as he has been doing to her.
It really does bother me that all the romance happens off-screen, as it were, although given my criticisms of how Jordan handles them, perhaps it is for the best. I’m just such a sucker for character work, and I really want to know what Nynaeve did to bring such light into Lan’s heart. It can’t just have been the bad meals she made.
As for Elayne and Rand, I’m not sure what Elayne is upset about. Sure, one always wants a little emotion from one’s partner, but she has to realize that Rand is also burdened by duty, and probably is glad that she’s leaving for the same reason she’s glad that he didn’t demand that she stay, or insist on coming with her. We’re just getting a different flavor of the Perrin and Faile fight now, a little less intense and a little less childish, but roughly the same.
Speaking of Faile and Perrin, I’m not sure which of them I’m more frustrated with right now. I understand why Faile felt like she had to manipulate Loial, but having gotten what she wanted, I think she would have done better to be gracious and allowed Perrin to come, without all the pointless punishing and pride drama. But Perrin was also being stubborn and prideful for no reason—she already knows that he doesn’t want her to come, and holding his ground to such a degree when he has already lost this fight just prolongs everyone’s discomfort, especially Loial’s. Perrin is cross with Faile for manipulating the Ogier, but he’s not willing to make things any easier for Loial, either, and is willing to leave Loial in the middle of the fight rather than cede this one small bit of ground to his girlfriend. Given how much Loial is willing to risk just because of his friendship for Perrin, it would have been nice to see Perrin give up a little in return.
Perrin’s nightmares did a good job of reminding us of the stakes for him here, however. Dreaming of Faile being killed by Whitecloaks, dreaming of wolves dying because of their connection to him, pulls us back a little from this childish feud he and Faile are having and refocuses on the trauma and loss Perrin has experienced. I still don’t agree with how he’s handling things, and hope that in time he’ll learn to open up with Faile, to be honest about what he wants and needs rather than trying to trick her into it. But I do have a lot of sympathy for him.
I’m reminded of Lan’s reaction to Nynaeve’s initial overtures, and how he acted as though his unilateral decision of what fate was acceptable for her was some kind of act of selflessness, rather than a selfish one. He was willing to dictate what Nynaeve was allowed to have without acknowledging that her own desires had weight and were just as fair as his. Similarly, Perrin is willing to dictate what Faile is allowed to do without taking her own intelligence or free will into account. He is allowed to die for his family, but she is not allowed to risk her life for him. Thus, in both cases the men are acting as though they are protecting the women, when in actuality they are protecting themselves from emotional pain. Which is still their right, but one hopes for a certain amount of self-awareness and honesty in the process.
Loial is right, humans are just too stubborn, even if it ends up getting them in a whole lot of trouble. Look at Mat, Rand, and Moiraine. Their little standoff might seem to be for better reasons, but ultimately it still rather feels like cutting off their noses to spite their faces. If Moiraine would give a little, Rand might come to trust her, and allow her at least some of the confidence she keeps trying to get from him. Mat wants answers, but he won’t accept the ones he’s given or let anyone help him understand what they mean.
I just love that Mat just kicks open the one old door in the Hold and it shatters into pieces. He’s all whispering to that rat and feeling in awe of the place, but he couldn’t just try opening a door like a non-dramatic human being.
I also keep trying to figure out what order the three went in, though there’s really no way of knowing. For some reason I assumed Mat was first in and first out—I think because of the way the snake-like beings reacted, saying that “the seekers come again.” If Mat had been the first one through I imagine there would have been a little more surprise, or that they would have perhaps seemed a bit surprised to see him. Also, I figure Rand’s session would have taken the longest, since he needed a translator.
I suppose it doesn’t actually matter, but for some reason it feels like it does.
Moiraine tells us that these beings live in a folded world, and I suspect that in this case the term “dimension” or “reality” could also be used. They appear to be some kind of fae, given the clue about the dislike of iron and the fact that they interact differently with both time and with human emotion and experience. It’s fascinating because they’re the first introduction we’ve had in quite a while to a sentient non-human people. In fact, all of the others we know of—Trollocs, Myrddraal, and Ogier—were introduced to us in the very first book. Encountering a new species now raises a lot of questions for me, and prompts me to reconsider what we know of those species we’ve already met.
For example, despite my attempts to be as analytical as possible in these reads, I must admit that I’ve never given much thought to Trollocs and Myrddraal beyond my initial impression that they were analogs for the orcs and ringwraiths of The Lord of the Rings. They do function similarly within the narrative, and their origins are somewhat similar too. In The Lord of the Rings, orcs are the descendants of corrupted elves, technically no longer the same species but coming originally from them. Trollocs and Myrddraal are the spawn of human and animals being interbred. One assumes there’s some kind of supernatural or weird dark-science intervention at play, but ultimately these creatures come from earthly stock, and exist from some kind of Dark One breeding program, rather than as a uniquely developing species in their own right.
I had assumed that Ogier, on the other hand, were that naturally developing species. They are a bit like the ents of Middle Earth, and a bit like the elves too, dressed up with other details from mythology about ogres and giants. But it is odd, in a way, that there are no other species of “people” existing in this world, and now, with the introduction of these new beings from another dimension, I wonder if it doesn’t provide a bit of a clue.
We already knew that the ancient Aes Sedai had the ability to go to other universes, like the mirror world Rand encountered in The Great Hunt. How many other universes, other dimensions, did the old Aes Sedai have access to? And were there sometimes creatures they met there with whom they struck bargains, as they seem to have done with these fae people? Could, perhaps, the Ogier be something like that?
The clues, I think, lie in the steddings. The very name evokes the word “homestead,” for one. Also there is the way the One Power works there, or rather, does not work there. I had initially assumed that Ogier intentionally created the block against accessing the One Power, in order to enforce peace in their land, a sort of “no weapons allowed” neutral zone. But although it does seem to function that way, there is really no suggestion that the steddings are like this way on purpose, or at least are purposefully run that way by the current inhabitants. On the other hand, if the Ogier are transplants from another world, some kind of settlers, perhaps their land is not native either, or has somehow been affected by their presence to function more like their own home than the new world they came to, like some kind of literal expression of the idea that the land on which an international embassy is built is sovereign soil of the corresponding country.
In any case, I don’t think Mat was very smart in the way he handled things. He’s so careful in planning his questions, so anxious about what stepping through the ter’angreal might do, but then he gets there and immediately loses his temper. It seems a lot to expect that such an experience with the One Power, an unknown species, and a strange set of rules would go simply and to his plan–he must have some idea how little he understands of what is happening. Also, “should I go home?” is a terribly unspecific question, when you think about it, and he actually got a much more specific answer than I would have expected. The snake people clearly did some work on his behalf, divining more of what he wanted to know, and Mat missed it.
They said he could side-step his fate! Isn’t that exactly what our dear Matrim has been after this whole time? As for the Daughter of the Nine Moons, my only thought is that the title sounds vaguely Seanchan, and I remember that Egwene dreamed about Mat struggling with a Seanchan woman who ties an invisible leash to him. That also sounds like something he would want to avoid, even if he wasn’t so very against the nobility.
I suppose Mat being so upset at the cryptic-seeming answers is like Egwene pressing Amys for answers about the Black Ajah. On the one hand, I totally understand their frustration, and it’s not their fault that they have been forced into this situation in which they must be involved with, and make decisions about, things that are far outside of their understanding. On the other hand, their determination to get answers to the questions they have decided are most important could blind them to the importance of the information they are actually getting. Egwene could have been so focused on the Black Ajah and Tanchico that she decided not to go to Amys. Similarly, Mat might be too frustrated (and frightened) by what the snake-people told him to see that some of his questions really have been answered, though not quite in the fashion he desired.
I wanted to get to also Thom this week, but the chapters have gotten more complicated again, and there’s some really great revelations in them that I’m ready to explore in more depth next week. Stay tuned for chapters 17 and 18, where we get to learn more about both Thom and Moiraine’s history, and take another trip into the Ways. In the meantime, I leave you with my final thoughts.
- I wonder if Mat will end up traveling with Egwene, or if this will be another one of those times where people’s paths lead them to the same place, even without their knowledge.
- So, is it going to turn out that we’ve been reading Loial’s book all along, just like LotR is Bilbo and Frodo’s (and Sam’s)?
- How the heck did Faile get Loial to swear to all that? I know he’s sweet and she’s a bit of a bully when it comes to getting what she wants, but that was an awfully specific promise, and I would have thought he would have been at least a bit suspicious about it.
- How powerful is the Bond between an Aes Sedai and her Warder? Lan was certainly struggling to get the words out, to say outright that he wanted to go with Nynaeve, but I don’t know if that was just an emotional struggle or if something else was at play. I know that Aes Sedai can compel their warders through the bond, but could Lan have tried to leave without her permission? What would have happened if he did?
Sylas K Barrett is very proud of Loial this week, and thinks someone should buy him an ale before making him brave the Ways again. Or at least after. Not sure that’s going to happen, though.
I always wondered if Steddings were transplants from another world with a separate wheel. I thought that could explain why Aes Sedai cannot channel in Steddings. To go with the weave metaphor, it’s like the main story take place in a blue weave and Ogier came from a red weave. Both are compatible and can be woven together but Aes Sedai can only channel blue weave. Once in the heart of a steddings, they only have access to red weave.
I think in some ways you will continue to be frustrated by the way Jordan portrays relationship dynamics. I do agree that they are, for the most part, a bit too adversarial for my taste. I know that does work for some people – despite all my underlying concerns about consent in general, I feel like Nyneave and Lan…work, perhaps in part because I think deep down they both know what game they are playing. But it’s defintiely not my ideal (I was never a big fan of being ‘pursued’ once I had already expressed my wishes).
As for which one is more frustrating, Perrin and Faile, well…buckle up, buttercup ;)
One interesting thing I think plays out here with all the couples is the balance between obligations and their romances and the tensions that comes with.
The Ogier thing honestly had my mouth kind of dropping open – I don’t think I ever twigged onto that theory until I came across it in the fandom but I don’t remember if people were already picking up on it so soon in the books. Have they mentioned the ‘book of translation’ yet?
Let’s not make this conversation overly personal in tone, and try to keep the focus firmly on the books. Asking the internet whether a specific experience you engaged in was objectively right or wrong or weird or not doesn’t seem like a fruitful course of discussion for this site, so–let’s not go there.
Nice read on ‘daughter of the nine moons’ but surprised that there wasn’t more time spent on the other proclamations made by the finns.
We’ll circle back to this sentiment a lot I feel…
‘Go to Rhuidean, son of battles! Go to Rhuidean Trickster, go gambler! Just sends chills down my back. That is who Mat is, who he has been in all his incarnations. And notice how his speech pattern changes when he’s speaking Old Tongue, it’s rhythmic, poetic.
Personally I’ve never had any problem understanding what the the tightly controlled Lan saw in the volatile Nynaeve, and vice versa.
Perrin is dense and Faile is frustrating. To her credit a year or so and several books later she looks back on this incident with incredulity. What Was I Thinking??
Moiraine is deeply invested in Rand, finding him has basically been her life’s work, but she can’t grasp that to get his confidence she must give a little. She can’t expect the Dragon Reborn to follow her around like a puppy, sitting and begging on demand. She must accept a more equal relationship if she doesn’t want to be rejected out of hand. Rand does need her, even he knows that, but she must get him to trust her by trusting him.
OP:
Except, at least in Perrin’s case, that’s not what’s going on. Perrin is not trying to protect himself from emotional pain. He is intending to walk into the Two Rivers and turn himself in to the White Cloaks, who will then execute him. That is his plan when he tries to drive Faile away. The only reason it ever changes is that his parents are already dead when he gets there. He’s certainly not trying to protect himself from emotions he doesn’t plan to be alive to have. He’s trying to protect someone he loves from dying with him. And yes, the very nature of attaching yourself to someone for life makes agency a sticky situation. Two become one, and all that. Perrin is not mature enough to realize that cuts both ways, yet.
It’s also worth noting that Sylas seems to think Jordan is justifying this behavior, when the narrative won’t support that. Both Perrin and Lan would have failed in what they wanted to accomplish without the stubborn women who wouldn’t be pushed away. Jordan makes it seem natural in the POV of the man, but undercuts the sentiment in the POV of the woman, and the narrative as a whole.
Lan however s definitely, though unconsciously, trying to protect himself. Falling in love is way out of his bleak comfort zone. Living is such a problem for him that he actually welcomes death as a solution. Moiraine knows this very well and takes action to prevent him throwing his life away. Her means are more than questionable but what is a woman to do with such a man?
@7 – I definitely agree with you about Perrin’s motives. But of course, Sylas doesn’t yet have the benefit of hindsight (even if his foresight is surprisingly apt at times!) to know that eventually the narrative will ‘reward’ Faile for this (or at least show it to have been better that she be there).
As an aside, am I the only who one who finds themselves desparately curious about modded off comments when they pop up?
OP:
Hahaha, Loial, suspicious. How very human. But really, I imagine the badgering was all about “before you take anyone else.” Since Loial has state unequivocally that he never plans to step through a Waygate again, he was willing to agree to anything, since it was never going to happen.
@8:
Yup, that’s why I excluded him in my comment @7. Lan has built himself into something he is not, by nature, in order to fulfill a role he has set for himself. To fulfill a vow that was made form him why he was a baby in the only way he sees possible. Nynaeve is a threat to that construction. The brilliance of the narrative is that Nynaeve is the key to revealing an alternate, more effective way to fulfill his vow that he was unable to consider before meeting her. Jordan in every way destroys the notion that there is truth in what Lan tries to teach Rand at the beginning of The Great Hunt. And it’s the same deconstruction he executes throughout the series, from the White Tower to the Black, all the way down to the individual relationships of the characters.
@2:
Yeah, twigging to the nature of the Ogier at this point is really, really early. It’s possible the book of Translation was mentioned during The Great Hunt, but I think it’s not until Lord of Chaos. That’s when I started twigging to the Ogier as beings from another dimension, and the stedding as pieces of that dimension that had been transplanted to Earth, as a sort of embassy, prior to the Breaking.
@2 I think the Lan/Nyneave is one of those things that work in the specific even if the general case is objectionable. The annoying thing is that you can’t continually argue the specific when looking at dubious trends in storytelling.
@6 To be fair to Moiraine, that’s a pretty big ask in the normal course of things. She’s a field agent with almost 20 years experience and a very high level of education. He’s a farmboy with no formal education and almost no experience of anything other than farming. He isn’t her equal except in cosmic significance and raw power.
@9 I’m ridiculously curious even though the comments I see that later get modded usually aren’t particularly interesting.
Nynaeve fighting Lan has everything to do with being surprised by the abruptness of the kiss and nothing to do with “needing to be persuaded and cajoled into enjoying sex and sexual situations.” She fought because she wasn’t expecting to be kissed.
And, in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever come across that particular trope. Women needing to be convinced to have sex, yes, but that’s “Female Virginity is Precious, Male Virginity is A Crime.” Once they do have sex, she usually enjoys it as much as he does.
It didn’t hit me until just now, but does it seem that the Snakes have something in common with Min’s viewings? They’re looking above Mat’s head and reading something, much like she does. I wonder if that somehow explains her power, that it comes from a gift from the Foxes to one of her ancestors, or something?
Moderators: Two minor typos:
seperate -> separate
decedents -> descendants
@16 – Fixed, thank you!
@14 This is not a problem in this book for Jordan, as evidenced later by Egwene, and problematic relationships that would be flagged during current times were purposely made extremely uncomfortable. As for Perrin and Faile’s “misunderstanding” the very different cultures clash. Especially super weird Saldaean culture
Siuan and Moiraine wanted to find a baby and raise it their own way. After 20 years of planning they have a hard time adjusting to dealing with a stubborn adult.
@15:
I thought so too. Jordan, however, says no: https://www.theoryland.com/intvmain.php?i=151
Specifically, see Number 11.
Three more typos:
“try to stop” → “tried to stop”
“will chose” → “will choose”
“embraices” → “embrace”
Mat’s trip through the doorway is a really neat example of how the Pattern works. The Aelfinn tell Mat that he must go to Rhuidean because otherwise he would sidestep his thread of fate. Before this, Mat has no reason at all to go to Rhuidean. It’s not the case that he has been trying to avoid going to Rhuidean and needs to be told that he really must go. He really has no idea that there is any reason for him to go to Rhuidean of all places. It’s also not the case that the Aelfinn decide what Mat should do. They just tell him how things are. How things are is that the Pattern needs Mat to visit Rhuidean, and Darkfriends will succeed at murdering him if he doesn’t go, and therefore the Aelfinn tell him that. Mat doesn’t want to die, so he goes. Thus telling him his fate is essential to making that fate happen. The fortune-telling is an integral part of the Pattern.
In his discussion of steddings, I think Sylas forgot what Elyas said: The ogier don’t make the steddings, it’s the steddings that make the ogier. However they originally came to be, a stedding is a stedding with or without ogier. Ogier without a stedding can’t exist in the long run, or wouldn’t remain ogier.
I’m pretty certain the order was Mat, Rand, Moiraine, in the same order they came out. The bells are store chimes, given the comments the ‘finn make each time. In particular, after the first time the bell rings, they say ‘he is another’, and that’s got to refer to Rand and Mat also being ta’veren.
@21 – Fixed, thank you!
@14:
I don’t even think it’s that. She’s surprised of course, but it has more to do with propriety than anything else. They are kissing in front of other people. That’s it. In Randland, or at the very least in the Two Rivers, it’s not proper to flaunt yourself in this manner in front of others. Not even so long ago in the early days of movies, on screen kisses were kept short and fairly chaste. Here Lan is full on making out with her in front of Egwene and Elayne. Nynaeve isn’t objecting to being kissed, only that there is an audience to it.
Not that it is going to stop me from reading the column, I enjoy it, but while I can believe Sylas hasn’t read the series before, he is way too on point when It comes to “guessing” what is coming to not have read synopsis somewhere…..
@25 His logic for the Ogier is pretty good. He’s just good at putting worldbuilding hints, tropes, and basic story structure together.
ETA: Which is to say: he isn’t guessing about the Ogier, he’s making deductions based on the evidence.
MODS: Loial should be trying to “dissemble” not “disassemble.” Ha!
@2, @12 – The Book of Translation is not mentioned until Knife of Dreams! http://encyclopaedia-wot.org/items/book_translation.html
@25 – Eh, Sylas makes enough wildly wrong speculations that I don’t think he has foreknowledge. But Sylas is extremely genre-savvy and literary-minded, and RJ really did “show his work” and included clues everywhere. For example, I certainly didn’t guess that the Ogier were translated here from another dimension until the last third of the series… but there are clues that you might correctly speculate that. On the other hand, I did pick up on the Seanchan connection to Mat immediately here also, because I remembered that Turak in The Great Hunt referred to “the Court of the Nine Moons.”
@27 – Disassembled Fixed, thanks!
On the one hand, I’m glad that Sylas doesn’t pick up on EVERYTHING because it would make me feel really bad about how much I missed the first time I read these books, but on the other hand, I really would have liked to Sylas’ take on the fact that RJ gave clues in the wording Mat used while in Sindhol that he was speaking the Old Tongue — something I didn’t realize until A Crown of Swords when it’s specifically pointed out by Birgitte.
So, Rand’s questions were 1) How do I survive the Last Battle; 2) How do I cleanse the Taint; 3) we never find out or really get any hints whatsoever. Anybody have any interesting theories on it?
We also never get any information about any of Moiraine’s questions, and I don’t think there’s anything we can even speculate about them with. We know from Moiraine’s letter to Rand at the end of Fires of Heaven that she has absolutely no foreknowledge of anything that happens after she goes to Sindhol other than about Thom’s rescue attempt. We know from the wording of Moiraine’s letter to Thom that her information there came from the rings in Rhuidean, since she talks about seeing various outcomes (I have seen you try and die, one or two or all three. I have seen myself die in the attempt. I have seen all of us live and die as captives.) She specifically says that her information about going to Rhuidean came from a letter from the Aiel dreamwalkers, although the language she uses there is slippery enough that it’s at least theoretically possible that one of her questions gave her an out (They wrote that they would meet us here, on Chaendaer, today. I thought it… unlikely… until Rand mentioned the Stones. When he was sure — certain beyond my dissuading — that one existed here… Let us just say it suddenly seemed very likely we would reach Chaendaer today.). So her questions had to be about some things that happened before her confrontation with Lanfear, but unrelated to going to Rhuidean… perhaps about her allowing Rand more freedom? Anybody have any ideas?
@29
I remember noting that Mat’s syntax and word choice was strange the first time, but didn’t think much of it. I think it stood out to me more when he got to the Eelfinn, because by then I knew he was speaking Old Tongue.
As for Rand’s questions: I posted the following a couple weeks ago when it came up in discussion in the comments. Though as someone pointed out, the exact published language of the first question was slightly different from what was in RJ’s notes.
‘Linda Taglieri of the Thirteenth Depository (a.k.a. Lind Taglien, the innkeeper at the Black Tower) I believe visited Charleston and read through RJ’s original notes in their collection, on this and many other subjects. He noted all three questions and all three answers that she details here: https://13depository.blogspot.com/2002/03/aelfinns-answers.html
MAJOR SPOILERS below:
Q1: “How can I fulfill the Prophecies of the Dragon and survive?”
A1: “The west and the south must be as one; the north and the east must be as one. Two cannot be one; you must stand against the two as one. If you would live, you must die.”
Q2: How do I cleanse saidin?
A2: “What is unlike, attracts. What is like, cancels. Let the one absorb the other.”
Q3: “How can I destroy the Dark One?”
A3 “What was, is, and will be. To choose is the fate of your kind. Without choice, humankind is dust.”’
What I find most amusing in Sylas’ analysis here is forgetting how well-established it already is that Mat pretty much always gets his best outcomes when he loses his cool and goes off-script. And yeah, always fun to spot the unconscious Old Tongue before it gets called out. He pretty much only starts tossing off phrases like “Light burn my bones to ash” when he’s slipped between languages… his usual curses are a bit more colorful.
As for the ogier, not that I considered the theory myself before seeing it floating around the fandom, but it’s definitely all there to see… all the fauna that isn’t earth-native is pretty explicitly called out as being either constructs like shadowspawn and the Nym, or from a portal stone mirror-world (grolm etc). Though I don’t remember if the Green Man mentions being “made” in EotW or if that’s part of the wayback sequence, and it’s interesting that Sylas forgot about him in thinking about the ogier’s origins here. But even without that, for someone looking critically at the worldbuilding, ogier would definitely stand out as being an odd exception if they were the only non-human/non-Earthly beings that did evolve here naturally.
Now I’m wondering what Moiraine’s questions were, probably along the lines of ‘how to I control the Dragon Reborn’ that being what she sees as her big problem at the moment. My guess would be the answers were along the lines of ‘lady, you can’t’.
I’m not sure what Moiraine asked, but I’m dead certain one of her answers told her she needed to go to Rhuidean.
The letter from the Wise Ones that also summoned Avi told Moiraine to go to Rhuidean.
“Surprising what you can dig out of books if you read long enough, isn’t it?” *snort* That’s a bit meta, intentional or not, given all the theories, symbolism, analyses, etc. that longtime WoT readers dig out of these books.
Over the course of the series, we arguably learn even less about the Aelfinn and Eelfinn than about Trollocs or Myrddraal. It makes sense, as we spend so little time with them. But it’s annoying. I would have liked to learn much more about them, and about their weird world, e.g. those weird-looking trees Mat sees here. WoT held my attention for a remarkably long time, for such a human-centered fantasy series, by dint of giving just enough information and portrayals of its various nonhuman beings to string me along with hopes of more. Grumble.
“I’ve never given much thought to Trollocs and Myrddraal beyond my initial impression that they were analogs for the orcs and ringwraiths of The Lord of the Rings.” Yeah, I noticed. Disappointing but unsurprising. Nobody thinks much about Shadowspawn except me. And Aginor and Verin and Masuri and a very small number of WoT fans I’ve encountered online.
The Finn get some sort of sustenance from human “sensations, emotions, experiences,” but at least they don’t go outside their realm and kidnap people for that purpose. #keystothekingdom
The WoT Wiki entry for the Finn has a few portraits, including the nice one by Ariel Burgess.
I’d say here that curiosity killed the Mat, or is going to almost kill him in Rhuidean. But the Aelfinn say he’ll die if he doesn’t go to Rhuidean (and thus to the Eelfinn). Do we know exactly what would have killed him as a result? The foxhead will effectively defend him against the gholam, as literally nothing else could have, but I don’t know if that’s it. Could be something about the battle knowledge they give him. Leigh explained why saving Moiraine saved the world, but I don’t know if that’s it either. They say “You will have sidestepped the thread of fate, left your fate to drift on the winds of time, and you will be killed by those who do not want that fate fulfilled.” What does that mean? Sorry if it’s all been discussed and resolved elsewhere in the fandom.
I feel sorry for the Aelfinn. So much time with no customers, and then too many. I can relate, and be grateful that even when I’m overwhelmed by customers, their presence doesn’t make the world, like, threaten to fall apart or whatever happened here.
“I’ll have your guts for a saddle girth!” Funny you should say that. They’re sending you to some people who wear human skin for clothing.
I’m amused that Mat is “son of battles,” when Rand is the one who was born on an actual battlefield.
“He would sooner marry a pig than a noblewoman.” Ooops. (One of my favorite lines in the series is “You accidentally married the Seanchan empress?”)
“I will make her wish I had peeled off her skin like a glove!” Nah, Lanfear will be the one who does that to somebody, shortly before the two of you go through the other doorway.
Darn Berelain for bringing the value of “Ogier’s oath” to Faile’s attention. But it turned out for the best. The wheel weaves as the wheel wills. :-p
“It was hardly fair that he could be right and still be in the wrong.” It happens to most of us, dude. A lot.
Everybody in Randland has major trust, communication and ego issues, Sylas. Get used to it.
i’ve really got interested in this because of tor :)![.](//s04.flagcounter.com/mini/Jkzv/bg_FFFFFF/txt_DEDEDE/border_FFFFFF/flags_0/" width="1"/>)
Odd that there were no notes left behind about Moiraine’s questions. I wonder if RJ even knew himself what she asked. Or if he just put it aside to develop later. I guess it didn’t really matter in the end what she asked as it wasn’t relevant to the conclusion of the series.
AeronaGreenjoy @@@@@ 35:
It could be as simple as the Forsaken, who are already trying to kill him to prevent him from helping Rand. That would be my guess.
Perrin is the most consistently selfish of the Two Rivers Boys. Mat thinks all the time about how selfish he is, but never acts it. Rand is mostly self-sacrificing throughout the series, and even his Sith period isn’t so much selfish as it is tyrannical. But Perrin is constantly bemoaning everything, abandons responsibility at the first chance he gets, and in the end even betrays his own people so that he can avoid having to be a ruler. The whole “hurt Faile to get her to leave and be safe” thing is just one of the earliest examples of this, with his consequent mistreatment of Loial an even more obvious example. Even his attempts at handing himself over to the Whitecloaks are selfish to an extent (both now and in the later books).
Is it just me, or has it already been discussed on a slew of other threads how much the trees visible through the windows in Finnland look like the trees shown in a number of Dr. Seuss books? It’s been decades since I spent much time with the Seuss corpus, but I’m thinking e.g. of Katroo, the setting of “Happy Birthday to You.” If I’m right, would be another example of RJ’s sly humor — a bit like the Mercedes emblem discussed a couple of weeks ago.
@@@@@ 40 – Perrin is only selfish if you assume he is obligated to fulfill the roles and expectations laid on him by other people. Sure, he doesn’t want to be a ruler and so he tries to run away from it whenever he can. What is wrong with that? Is he allowed no agency over his life?
As for this interaction with Faile… it’s crazy to me that anyone can take Faile’s side in this. Perrin isn’t making any decisions for her, he’s going home to die and breaking up with his girlfriend right before, to spare her pain or at least help her mitigate the pain she’ll feel. Aside from being a dumb plan, there isn’t anything wrong with his decisions. What was the alternative? Slip out in the middle of the night and (to use the modern parlance) ghost her? It seems to me that given the circumstances this was the most mature way he could have handled the situation. If he isn’t allowed to end that relationship on his own terms then we have to re-evaluate the entire power dynamic, because in that case he’s trapped with an abuser from whom he can’t escape.
@42 – Trust that she can handle it and not make decisions for her. It’s really that simple.
@42,
He could always be honest with her up front.
As for the rulership thing, that’s the entire basis of responsibility, and selfishness is doing the opposite of that. Most people fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, but of the three Two Rivers Boys I think it’s obvious which one is farthest to the selfishness side of things. Even many of the decisions he made while ostensibly acting as a Lord for his people were informed by selfishness rather than responsibility.
Worse than simply abandoning his people, though, he sold them out to Andor without hesitation. If he’d simply abdicated, that would be one thing, but foisting a monarchy on them that they had no interest in being subject to and undoing all the great things that they had accomplished? That’s betrayal of the highest order.
I’ve always had a problem with the way Perrin stomps all over his people’s national aspirations. Almost as much as Lan’s determination to ignore his people’s desires for a realm in exile and to fight for Malkier in the Last Battle.
I’ve always had a problem with the way Perrin stomps all over his people’s national aspirations. Almost as much as Lan’s determination to ignore his people’s desires for a realm in exile and to fight for Malkier in the Last Battle.
@44 I wouldn’t say he sells his people out. They made him their leader against his will because they trusted his judgement. And in his judgement, not getting his people killed in a futile rebellion against an Andor in possession of cannons/traveling and determined to keep territory it has always claimed while getting them some actual representation in that government seems like fairly sound judgement to me. Not that I am saying he doesn’t exhibit selfish behavior in some of his decisions. he even admits his decision is self-serving leading to the PLOD because he doesn’t consider if it is the best choice for the job he has and the people following him.
@42 I agree, Faile is completely out of line, but Perrin isn’t much better. The mature way to handle it is to tell her the truth (he is going home to die and doesn’t want her to come) and end the relationship; adding the barb related to Berelain was out of line. But honestly ghosting her would probably have been better for everyone and definitely than lying so poorly that all he did was piss her off. He knows she has a petty streak wider than the Aryth Ocean and that was pretty much guaranteed kick her off the deep end. This is actually where I stopped buying this relationship. Who stays with someone so demonstrably manipulative and horrible to “friends” as Faile proves herself to be ?
@29 (et al) Perhaps we know the gist of at least one of Moiraine’s questions to the Aelfinn.
In the very next chapter she tells Thom
“A quiet life would kill you, I think […] Tanchico will not, however. I guarantee that, and by the First Oath, you know it for truth.”
There is certainly one source which could have given her the knowledge to be so definite.
My best guess is that she was considering how best to organise the forces at her disposal and her question to the Finns went something like this: “If Nynaeve, Elayne and Thom go to Tanchico, will they all come back in one piece?”
@48:
The question is unnecessary, because Min has told her that she will marry Thom. Since she hasn’t married him yet, she knows he will survive Tanchico.
@@@@@ 43/44 – This isn’t Faile’s decision to make! Are you obligated to discuss your plans with everyone with an emotional investment in you? Perrin also doesn’t discuss his plans with his best friends (who are naturally concerned for his well being), his parents, literally anyone else with whom he is engaged in a relationship of any sort with.
And for what it’s worth, Perrin has a 100% accurate read on Faile’s personality. If he were to tell her his plan, she’d object and do something rash to stop him. He isn’t her slave, and he isn’t beholden to her wishes. His decision is literally the only mature one possible in the circumstance; break up with her to sever the emotional connection as best he can and go forward. Were they married or had children it might be a slightly different story, but only slightly. Because at the end of the day Perrin has correctly ascertained that Faile, for whatever positive personality traits she has, is also a spoiled child determined to get her way at all costs (as she herself later admits).
Moreover, in regards to his treatment of his “people” – they make him their lord by acclamation. He doesn’t ask for it, and quite the opposite, actively rejects it. Your points would be well taken if he was someone who had sought out a position of power and leadership and then tried to run when he found it didn’t suit him. It isn’t his fault that the Duopotamians come to regard him as their de facto and de jure liege. And you cannot have it two ways. If they are going to insist that he command them, then he cannot “sell them out.” If he thinks that subordinating the Two Rivers to Andor peacefully is the right decision, that is his prerogative and not theirs. They gave that up when they forced him into being a feudal overlord. Moreover, his motives and reasoning in this are beyond reproach.
I agree that Perrin has a selfish streak. But in an alternate timeline where Tarmon Gaidon doesn’t come for another 5 generations, he wouldn’t be viewed as such. He wants the life that he grew up expecting. He resents that he is being forced to give up his own happiness to satisfy the wants of others. Perhaps that is selfish, but it’s also justified. You could make the case that the entirety of the Two Rivers is far, far more selfish(and in fact this is strongly implied) in that they are completely unwilling to adapt to new circumstances, and completely unwilling to take responsibility for their own lives or those that have come to depend on them (new immigrants), and instead force someone else to do it for them.
@50:
And this is exactly why actual love, where two people become one, is so complicated when it comes to things like agency. Of course, at this point, they haven’t said any words to commit themselves to each other that fully, but both of them already feel that way in their hearts—like there is no real separation between what happens to the other person from what happens to you.
That kind of love makes agency… complicated. At least in certain world views.