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Read the previous entry in the serieshere. Read the next entry in the seriessoon.
A brief adage from Chalced precedes “Warm Water.” As the chapter itself begins, Nighteyes complains of boredom as he is obliged to wait with Fitz for death to come. Fitz notes being surprised to still live, rehearsing his situation in some detail. He and Nighteyes confer internally, the wolf urging him to make a decision and act upon it rather than simply waiting, and Fitz searches what he can reach for some tool to help him. He encounters the titular warm water and is surprised again, attempting to determine its source. Belatedly, he realizes it is a bit of Elderling magic, and he settles into reverie and self-pity for which the wolf rebukes him.
Fitz soon finds out, the hard way, that Chade’s exploding powder can detonate underwater, spurred by the Elderling magic, and the Silver that he had carried splashes all over him. Nighteyes reminds him afterward that the Silver has afforded Verity and the Fool abilities to reshape and rework objects, and Fitz applies himself to reshaping his surroundings to permit his escape. So freed, Fitz slowly pushes forward in an attempt to reunite with the Fool and Bee, and he recognizes the impact his exercise of magic has had upon his body.
At length, Fitz emerges into open air and sees the ruin of Clerres. He also sees the Vivacia pulling away, and he attempts without success to Skill to Bee. Fitz further spies Motley, and Nighteyes remarks that the crow has seen him. He and the crow confer brokenly, and the crow delivers food to him. Drinking from a spring afterward, Fitz encounters Prilkop, who shares food with him amid an awkward conversation. Fitz learns much of recent events from it, and Prilkop mourns what good there had been in Clerres that has been lost with its destruction.
The two part with respect but not friendship, and Fitz finds Capra in the night. An assassin yet, he takes fatal vengeance for the Fool and for Bee, then departs.
The brief prefatory comments put me in mind of JC 2.2.34-35, the comment that “Cowards die many times before their deaths; / the valiant never taste of death but once.” I’ve written before about Shakespearean correspondences in Hobb’s Realm of the Elderlings corpus, if with a different focus and a narrow scope due both to the structures of conference papers and the fact that fewer of works existed in the corpus at the time; it is, again, perhaps another scholarly someday that I would return to and expand upon said conference paper with the fuller works in place. That there should be such evocations is unsurprising; there is a reason that so much ink is spilled across so much time about how Shakespeare pops up after himself, and given the privileged position Shakespeare’s works continue to occupy in such conceptions of English-language literary canons that persist, that Hobb would make use of such resonances, consciously or not, is almost inevitable.
The latter parts of the chapter command some attention. The ending, with its comment about the half-chicken Fitz purloins from the slain Capra, strikes me as particularly funny. There’s something about the juxtaposition of the simple pleasure in tasty food and the grim, magically-enhanced work for which Fitz has long been trained and in which he has been reportedly adept that prompted laughter from me–although I admit to being primed for such things, having been steeped in Jenkinsian lore and having written a paper I wish had been published but that led to some useful tutorial materials, at least. And perhaps it is the case that such bits of humor point towards expectations about primary audiences, as well, another in a long series of scholarly somedays.
I am taken, too, by Prilkop’s near-fawning over Capra in the wake of the destruction of Clerres. That Prilkop prizes parts of his ancient home has been clear for several chapters, and he is not in error to point out that there were many in Clerres who could not rightly be held accountable for the many heinous misdeeds done by the Servants, their chosen Prophets, and the cult surrounding both. But for him not only to take delight in people surviving the dragons, but also to lionize Capra’s assumption of unitary leadership and to believe her promise of return to older ways (716), strikes me as…naïve, at best. Given the color dynamics at work (and acknowledging the ways in which earlier portions of the Realm of the Elderlings corpus), I find myself in mind of Uncles Tom and Ruckus, and it’s a markedly uncomfortable line of thought for me. That it is presented as a negative helps to some degree, but that there is still the invocation of such a stereotype…as I note, it’s not comfortable reading for me.
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I know that I should have been there, For, although she knows that I care, I’m not often found; I’m seldom around, And there’s ever less time I can spare.
A body can only wait so long… Photo by u00d6zgu00fcr Avu015far on Pexels.com
There’s more to come. Maybe some of it can be for you?
Getting crabs: that, I do not regret, Since it never was really a threat Given how I have acted; I have never transacted Such as would incur that kind of debt.
It’ll do in a pinch… Photo by Karvanth 16 on Pexels.com
Don’t be left standing on the sand; get your writing well in hand!
With less than a month left of scheduled sessions at the local library, the middle-school-aged gaming group for whom I’ve been running a Dungeons & Dragons game got to talk about the ambiguously (neo-) medievalist setting of the game, both in its default iteration and in the specifics of the campaign I think may be winding down. (I hope to reprise later on, but since it is a library program and not my own, I cannot guarantee it.) There are a number of scholars and others who have commented on the topic at some length, and I’m not exactly a stranger to the discussion, myself (as witness this, among others). I’ll admit to some pleasure in speaking from a position of some knowledge on the subject, and I’ll note that I did have to rein myself in; having been an academic and still participating in some small ways in scholarly research, I am prone to running off at the mouth about things I’ve studied. But that should be nothing like a surprise to anybody who knows or reads me at this point.
This almost strikes the right tone, I think. Photo by Phil Evenden on Pexels.com
As to play, itself: the players continued to progress through the dungeon in which they have been for several sessions, now. An NPC “handler” emphatically suggested that, following the events of last week’s session, the party take a long rest. So much done, and players’ characters restored to reasonable health, the party pressed ahead, moving from large halls into narrow corridors that presented traditional-to-the-genre threats partly determined by random chance. Intra-party conflict was present as it always is, but there was also humor (if perhaps more attempted than realized). Really, the kids are a pretty typical gaming group, and, for the most part (aside from cases of main-character syndrome in various intensities and the overwhelming desire of one player, in particular, to be “cool”), it’s been good to have them at the table. I’ve been glad to have the opportunity, and I think I will miss it when it’s done.
But it’s not done yet, not hardly, and I mean to get out of it all that I can while I can.
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To list, too, the things I’ve not done And wish that I had, I would run Beyond my life’s time, Pass all sense and rhyme, And, again, would’ve barely begun.
I’ll need more sticky-notes than this. Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com
I’m keepin’ ’em comin’, but it ain’t too late to get your own in!
Read the previous entry in the serieshere. Read the next entry in the serieshere.
Comments about the Treasure Beach on Others’ Island precede “The Vengeance.” The chapter returns to Bee as she watches what the dragons do that emerge from the Paragon, and she assesses her situation as she directs Perseverance to seek what can be found amid their tumultuous surroundings. Survivors begin to gather and take stock of their collective disposition, and Bee sours on the Fool. Kennitsson’s death is reported, as is the poor condition of the son of Althea and Brashen, and the Fool and Bee confer about their loss, Bee souring on him yet further, and rapidly.
Nothing so kindly or quaint as this, no. Photo by Thanh Binh on Pexels.com
Bee continues to watch the dragons wreak ruin on Clerres, and those that emerged from the Paragon are joined by Heeby and, unexpectedly, by Icefyre. Motley joins the onlookers as Icefyre enacts his own revenge on Clerres, and the crow soon flies among the dragons as Prilkop emerges to offer Bee and her companions assistance. Prilkop urges the Fool to sue for peace, but the Fool replies that the dragons will have none of it, and Tintaglia joins the fray. The Fool urges Prilkop and his own companions to flee, and Bee speaks her own recriminations of Clerres.
Conversation is interrupted by Brashen’s recovery and his son’s report of events to him. The dragons’ ruin of Clerres continues around her and her companions, during the night and into the morning. In the morning, the dragons that had emerged from the Paragon claim the body of Kennitsson, consuming it and his memories, and one of them shares his name, Karrigvestrit, adopting the ship’s family’s name as part of his own. The dragons depart, and the survivors begin to take care for themselves. Bee finds, to the surprise of most assembled, that she can heal with the Skill. Rapskal joins the group, offering awkward condolences and reporting the imminent arrival of the Vivacia before joining those assembled in remembrance.
Bee wakes the next morning to breakfast served by Perseverance and a report from him. Part of the report is that the Fool has sought Fitz again; the Fool returns, unsuccessful, and Bee hardens her heart against him.
The prefatory materials of the chapter call back to the beginnings of the Liveship Traders novels, laying out explicitly the rules Kennit violates in his own trip to the shore in question. As at several earlier points in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus, there is an impression with them that the rules are of advanced age; they are presented in the current chapter as if in translation, and in their earlier appearance, they are presented as long-known lore. It is another implication of the long term at work in the Realm of the Elderlings, one reinforced by Icefyre’s comments and the Fool’s about the ways in which Clerres worked to commit what amounts to genocide on the dragons. Icefyre, after all, had been encased in the ice of Aslevjal long enough that his image had faded to a dull shadow under the ice and reports of his presence had become tales told by the old around the fire at night, and even though it is made clear throughout the Realm of the Elderlings novels that dragons inherit memories from their forebears and from what they eat, his tirade is plain that he was, himself, present at Clerres as dragons were slain by deceit and trickery. It is the case that language seems to change more quickly in the absence of mass media than in its presence; consider the differences between Wulfstan’s English and Laȝamon’s, Laȝamon’s and Chaucer’s, Chaucer’s and Malory’s, or even Malory’s and Shakespeare’s, then between Shakespeare’s and that of Wordsworth or Coleridge, and note how much remains from the earlier to the later. But given that there are characters present in the novels who live centuries and more, and that the passage of generations is remarked upon, there still has to be a long time involved.
I suppose it is something that emerges as a frustration of Hobb’s motion away from the Tolkienian tradition, something certainly clear in earlier series as I have remarked once or twice (and probably will again). Then again, Hobb herself notes her indebtedness to Tolkien, and I have noted, too, that, despite her motions away from the Tolkienian tradition, Hobb works in conversation with it. That she works over long scales of time is not unlike the chronologies presented in the appendices to The Lord of the Rings and in The Silmarillion–and there is a correspondence to the latter in the present chapter, as well, the description of Icefyre as he arrives at Clerres reminiscent of descriptions of Ancalagon the Black. But there is no heavenly mariner to send him tumbling to the ruin of mountains, no shining savior to plead before gods for release from evil. And there are still many other ways in which Hobb moves away from The Professor, even as there are some ways in which she remains clearly his student.
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Not too long ago, I wrote about my intentions for this year’s iteration of National Poetry Writing Month. As I have promised, so do I deliver; based on such results of polling as I received, I will be writing a series of limericks centering on the theme of regret. (Alas that none thought to sponsor my endeavors–although I would still dearly welcome patronage!) It should prove an interesting challenge; limericks typically run to the humorous and ribald (as I’ve commented elsewhere, such as here, here, and here), although I have had some experience attempting (with less success than I might have preferred, with an example beginning here) to apply them to other notions. I welcome the chance to stretch myself again, and I hope to find better success this time than last.
It came up on an image search… Photo by Dahlia E. Akhaine on Pexels.com
Some other comments about the endeavor need making. For one, I do still intend to press ahead with my regular projects. Hanlon will only go through the end of April, so far as I know, so it matters to me that I keep it going here, as well. The Robin Hobb rereading is not quite at the stopping-place I had thought was coming, so I will continue it until the end of the Fitz and the Fool Trilogy before taking a short break from it (unless I get caught out even more than I seem to be already and it does, in fact, take me through the end of April to get to that point). I’ve also got a couple of conference talks that will need addressing; I know, more or less, what I want to say in each, but I do need to prepare the more formal notes for them. Going off on tangents is…not helpful in presentations, although it does very well in discussions afterward. And there is the matter of my day-job to address, as well, especially in the next couple of weeks as things grow particularly intense in it; it will be taxing, indeed.
As before, I mean to have a poem post each calendar day. Also as before, I think I will make multiple posts on the days when I have “normal” content coming out. That is, I will still have my commentaries and rereadings and the like come out Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; I will supplement those days with poetry posts, and I will have the poems post at a set time each day. Maybe in the morning will be good, so as to spur me on a little bit more vigorously…or possibly to give me something else to regret; I am already amply supplied with source material, but more about which to write is not a bad thing to have.
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Elliott RWI 