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The twentieth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “Crossing,” begins with Nevare having a fitful night of sleep in advance of exams. At length, he gives up on the idea of returning to sleep and begins to make ready for the day, members of his cohort joining him. Spink muses darkly on the coming exams, and Nevare muses equally darkly on Old Thares, contrasting his present experience with the expectations that had been laid out for him and that he had taken to himself.

Following inspections and a desultory breakfast, Nevare and his cohort begin to sit for their exams. The first of them, for Captain Infal’s military history class, is described briefly. The next, for Captain Rusk’s* mathematics class, received more detail; after an exchange between Spink and Gord, Nevare is left to question whether they had colluded and cheated on their work. The following exam in Varnian is given less detail than Infal’s, and during the lunch period afterward, Nevare continues to chew over events in the mathematics exam.

After lunch, Nevare and his cohort report to Captain Maw’s engineering class where they are presented with a practical exercise: enacting a crossing of Tiler’s Creek on the Academy campus. Nevare is placed in command of his cohort, to his surprise, and he initially handles authority too gingerly to be of effect. Assessing the situation, he orders Caleb and Spink to accompany him across the creek, and the three cross. Efforts to have his cohort set up a structure to cross prove fruitless, and after a final effort in that line, Nevare realizes that the task is to cross the creek, not build a crossing. He voices the revelation, and other groups scramble to enact it, but by the time Maw ends the exam, only Nevare’s group has succeeded.

The exercise concluded, Maw dismisses all save Nevare. As he departs, Gord offers to have Nevare’s uniform cleaned, which offer he accepts; Gord also notes that Maw had ordered him to propose Nevare as the unit commander. In private, Maw reminds Nevare about his earlier offer to have Nevare commissioned as a Scout, and Nevare reiterates his refusal of the offer. Maw then opines on the role of the military in maintaining the status quo in Gernian politics, for which reason, the first-year cadets of Carneston House–Nevare’s cohort–will be culled. Nevare’s inclusion is by special request of his aunt. And while Maw acknowledges the unfairness of it at the local level, he notes that nothing is likely to change the practice, seemingly remaining convinced that such a thing serves the greater good.

After a reiteration of the commissioning offer, Maw dismisses Nevare, and the young man muses darkly on the limited fate he sees before him.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 23 pages in length, approximately 3.98% of the novel. It leaves 100 pages in the novel, as well. Hobb has a tendency to back-load her novels, events at the ends of them coming in rapid succession after abundant character development; so much seems to be the case for the present novel, as well, with events in the present chapter signalling a motion away from the story that has been set up for readers to follow.**

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Cadet Captain Jaffers, Caleb, Captain Infal, Captain Maw, Captain Rusk, Carneston House, Carsina Grenalter, Colonel Stiet, Corporal Dent, Daraleen Burvelle, Dark Evening, Dewara, Epiny Burvelle, General Brodg, Gord Lading, Grand Square, Keft Burvelle, King Darwell, King Troven, King’s Cavalla Academy, Kort Braxan, Landsing, Landsingers, Lord Grenalter, Natred Verlaney, Nevare Burvelle, Old Thares, Oron, Plainsfolk, Rory, Scout, Scout Tiber, Scout Vaxton, Sergeant Duril, Sirlofty, Skeltzin Hall, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Tiler’s Creek, Tobacco, Trist Wissom, Varnian,† War College. I note with some instance the prevalence of captains in the present chapter, as well as the mention of a general; there have only been a few mentions of the latter title (“Harbinger” and “The Academy” come to mind as offering examples) previously, which seems somewhat odd for a society evocative of the United States, the histories of which make much of the “great men” leading armies. But there is mention in the present chapter of limited opportunities for advancement, which makes sense in the context of hereditary military service; with as many people in uniform as would seem to result, there would be many more vying for promotion than there would be positions into which to promote them. Perhaps that explains matters.

Brodg has been mentioned before (see “Harbinger,” linked above), and not as a compliment. In the earlier mention, Keft notes that discipline is lax under his command owing to too much sympathy with the common soldiers from whom he is sprung (although there is an implication that he is descended in long line from noble blood, if “blood and breeding have thinned in his line” [44]). In the present chapter, Maw regards Brodg’s elevation to high command as an affront to natural order, saying “It goes against the grain, Burvelle. It rasps the sensibilities” (473). While such attitudes bespeak a classism that is, on its surface, at odds with the putatively egalitarian ideas of the nineteenth-century United States from which Gernia borrows, it must be remembered that

1. Gernia only borrows from the nineteenth-century United States; it is not the nineteenth-century United States.
2. The nineteenth-century United States was itself decidedly classist, even without a formal nobility or a hereditary monarchy. Class structures in the United States were (and, let’s be honest, are) heavily intertwined with concerns of race, ethnicity, and national origin; those structures center around ownership, particularly of land and means of production (and they still largely do, although with increasing abstraction).

It’s another point of tension in the novel between what should be and what is, something with which Nevare has had difficulty throughout the text.

Captain Maw (appropriately named; he serves as something of a mouthpiece for the quiet Gernian military establishment as well as the face of Nevare’s cohort’s consumption) does a fair bit in the present chapter. His political explication to Nevare reinforces earlier comments by Sefert Burvelle and others, driving home the idea that everything is political. Everything moves towards determining who is in power, who remains there, who does not, and what those are able to do who are there. And his educational explication is also telling; the idea that things have to be taught, that knowledge is not inbred, is one that grates against Gernian sensibilities, even if it is the case that that nation-state has had to adjust to those ideas. That equivalent training leads “less noble” people into better performance than “more noble” ones has implications for a caste-reliant society that it cannot readily face; if it is the case that literature offers its readers lessons for their own world, those the present chapter offers would seem to bear some consideration.

One other note: in the engineering challenge posed by Captain Maw, the difference between success and failure is one that relies on properly understanding the problem posed. Nevare stumbles upon it relatively late, but he does still get to that point, leading his patrol to (its ultimately futile) success in the exercise. This is of a piece with Hobb’s repeated emphasis on the importance of specificity of wording, something that pervades her work in a quiet sense even when it is not called out (as in such cases as are discussed here, here, and here, if not also elsewhere). It’s something to be expected from a professional writer, admittedly, joining an already-identified emphasis on the importance of writing‡ (and, indeed, closely akin thereto). But that it’s expected does not make it a bad thing.

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* It seems that the earlier issue regarding the name of this officer (see “Classmates“) really is simply a one-off typographical error. As noted in the earlier discussion, it happens from time to time, even with all the people involved in the professional production of text (discussed here).

** It must be noted that there has been some foreshadowing of this point. See, for example, “Letters from Home” (already linked above) and, in a more metanarrative sense, both “Magic and Iron” and “Harbinger” (also already linked above). Too, while there is value in “stock” narratives, their principle worth is in forming a base from which to work; much of the more interesting material comes in moving away from the standard and how that can be done well.

† A small note: while Nevare’s instructor in Varnian is named as he is introduced, the class he teaches receives little attention and he, himself, is not mentioned by name after the introduction. It is clear that Nevare devalues the course–and not because of its difficulty; military history presents problems for him, but he refers overtly to Infal and discusses the class in some detail, if not as much as some other classes. It might be wondered if Nevare’s attitudes, coupled with his difficulties, are a backhanded commendation of the value of humanistic study.

‡ See, for example, “Sword and Pen,” as well as “Letters from Home,” linked above.

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The nineteenth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “Intervention,” opens three days before the coming culling, Nevare noting that news of the event had spread, driving a flurry of intensive study and a concomitant dampening of the cadets’ mood. Individual subject difficulties are reported, and Trist continues to pressure Spink and Gord towards academic dishonesty. Spink also labors under an onus regarding his status on prohibition due to the accusations of immorality levied against him, one that Nevare begins to think applies to him, as well, when correspondence with his uncle stops.

Nevare’s concerns are not allayed when he is summoned by Colonel Stiet once again. Arriving as ordered, he finds his commander and his uncle awaiting him, and he is asked why he has not written to Sefert. Nevare reports that he has posted daily letters to him but had grown concerned about a lack of reply; the interruption is put down to problems with the post, and Sefert informs Colonel Stiet that he will ensure more direct correspondence between himself and his nephew. Sefert then takes his leave of the Colonel, although he pauses to talk to Caulder on his way out.

As Sefert walks Nevare back to his dormitories, he speaks with his nephew, remarking much on his wife’s political leanings and noting that, while he would not necessarily oppose a relationship between Spink and his daughter, such would have to wait for her to enter social adulthood–but that Daraleen would not be amenable to such a match and that it therefore will not be permitted. The pair also talk about the coming culling, as well as the upcoming Dark Evening and its associated liberties. Sefert assures Nevare that, while there were historical practices that have almost wholly fallen away, the holiday serves merely as a carnivalesque relaxation of norms rather than a flouting and refutation of them.

Sefert departs, leaving Nevare to check in with Sergeant Rufet and return to his studies. A letter from Carsina awaits him, and he muses over what he actually knows of her as he reads it, growing frustrated with Epiny for having inadvertently forced him to interrogate his assumptions. Studies proceed, with Nevare and his cohort arriving at last at the resolution that they either know the materials they need to or not, that no further work will avail them.

As Nevare sleeps the night before exams, he dreams of himself with Tree Woman. The version of himself that accompanies her is described with some revulsion, and Nevare hears that something comes soon from her and from the magic in which she is entwined. Nevare attempts to free himself and falls in the dream, waking to find himself on the floor of his quarters, bleeding from his old scalp-wound, and he returns to his bed and sleep with difficulty.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 19 pages in length, approximately 3.29% of the novel. There is a certain fittingness of the nineteenth chapter running as many pages, although I do not think it is an intentional thing, given the previous chapters being of variable (and more than once longer) lengths. While I continue to think there may be something to track in considering chapter-lengths–and I am tempted to go back to the Realm of the Elderlings corpus to pull out some of that data as soon as time allows, although I am a bit embarrassed not to have thought of looking at percentages prior to getting started on Soldier Son–I do not know what that something is at this point. So much said, I recall discussing various assignments (such as this one) back when I had students; one of the ways into finding what a given text is doing is to look at its textual features, including word-counts. The more technically-minded students benefited from the approach; those of more artistic leanings also got something else to consider. And it does require examination of a thing to rule out its relevance, in any event.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Caleb, Captain Infal, Carneston House, Carsina Grenalter, Caulder Stiet, Colonel Stiet, Corporal Hawley, Council of Lords, Daraleen Burvelle, Dark Evening, Elisi Burvelle, Epiny Burvelle, Gaser, Gernia, Gord Lading, Keft Burvelle, King Jurew, King Jurew’s War, King Troven, King’s Cavalla Academy, Kort Braxton, Long Night, Lord Kester, Mistress Pintor’s Finishing Conservatory, Natred Verlaney, Nevare Burvelle, Old Thares, Purissa Burvelle, Rory, Sefert Burvelle, Sergeant Rufet, Shinter House, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Tree Woman, Trist Wissom, Varnian. The inclusion of some few incidentals–Gaser, King Jurew and his war, Mistress Pintor’s Finishing Conservatory, and others–once again points to the verisimilitude of the setting, noting that there is life outside what Nevare experiences; there is a larger world in which he exists, much as there is one in which his readers do, and the correspondence makes for a more authentic setting.

A point of interest emerged for me as I reread the present chapter. While walking Nevare back to his quarters, Sefert notes not having had a sister: “Your father and I and our two younger brothers were like a den of bear cubs growing up” (440). Per “Harbinger” and “Bessom Gord,” as well as glancing mentions in other parts of the text, this means Nevare’s grandparents had an heir, a soldier son, a priest son, and an artist son. Yet, for all that Keft is strictly observant in his home, there is to my recollection no prior mention of Nevare’s other uncles, and I have to wonder about that.* Is it a matter of a more distant relationship among those brothers than between Sefert and Keft? Differences in age? Or perhaps a commentary on the perceived removal of governance and the force needed to maintain it from more humanisitic pursuits? It might well be there’s another scholarly someday therein, but then, I would suspect so much is the case.

Also of interest for me is Nevare’s incredulity at his aunt’s political drive (443). It is not at all to his credit that he should be surprised that the wife of a noble would have ambitions; it is more to his credit when he considers that Carsina might well have as rich an internal life as himself or his cousin (446), but it is much less so when he notes his assumptions about women’s dispositions (447). Misogyny, even if arguably well intentioned,** is not a mark in Nevare’s favor of in that of the culture which has given rise to him and of which he can be regarded as something of an exemplar.† The failure to consider others as people is never a good thing, and the fact that coming to consider others thus leads Nevare to doubt even those for whom he claims to care marks him as…flawed. But then, a character without flaw cannot develop and improve, and it is unfair to expect every (or any) character in a past-analogous setting to have modern attitudes (even if the earlier ones can be rejected as unhelpful or worse); it is also not the case that even a protagonist has to be likeable to engage readers and keep them going through the text.

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* I wonder, too, that Sefert does not employ his brother as his household priest, although that may simply be a matter of specializations not aligning. Too, that might have to do more with formal ecclesiastical structures in Gernia and surrounding countries; while Soldier Son is more explicit about religious practice than a lot of other fantasy work, there’s still much it does not say about churches and their practices.

** I am aware that intent matters far less than effect; I’ve stated as much repeatedly, in this rereading series and elsewhere. And I know that misogyny is a pattern in Gernia as well as in the United States from which I have repeatedly asserted it borrows. But I think it is rather a case of misunderstanding than of malevolence on Nevare’s part, and if it is the case that it remains oppressive, it is also the case that it is less bad–not better–than were it otherwise. Too, as noted, character development is a thing, and bad ideas in the young that are subsequently cast aside can, perhaps, be forgiven. I certainly have enough such foolishness in my past to hope so.

† I know I’ve not laid out the full argument of this point, and I know it’s not a straight-line argument to make, but I’ve also noted a large number of things to do, so adding one more makes little difference. For the moment, it will suffice to note that the fact of Nevare as the focal character forces him into the role of “typical” Gernian; he is the only one for whom readers have access to interiority and thus the effects of socialization. Given Keft’s insistence on correctness (if with a few choice quirks inserted), he can be regarded as, at least at a surface level and for the present, as what a good Gernian ought to be.

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The eighteenth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “Accusations,” starts with deepening winter and the approach of Dark Evening. Nevare reflects upon his family’s observance thereof and contrasts it with what his cohort reports of their own histories with the event. Nevare finds himself wondering about how his intended, Carsina, observes the event, his thoughts ranging to more general concerns and soon turning to anticipation of celebrations in which he might participate.

Events of the intervening days are reported, including a fracas between groups of cadets that leads to questons from Oron about the divisions between old and new noble families. Gord holds forth on the matter, which occasions some upset from several of his cohort, but as he explains, Nevare finds himself realizing that Gord’s intellect is more powerful than he had realized. Gord points out that they are being trained towards antagonism, the sons of old and new nobles, and Trist dismisses his holding forth as elementary.

Further discussion is interrupted by the appearance of Caulder Stiet, come to summon Spink to Colonel Stiet. Caulder upbraids Trist for his earlier experience with tobacco, leaving the cadet to mollify his commander’s son. Thus mollified, the boy reports that a culling is coming, with whole groups of students subject to expulsion based on their average performance on upcoming exams. Spink’s lack of mathematical acumen is cited as a source of concern, and some press Gord to offer illicit assistance to him.

Spink returns late in the evening, reporting that he has been accused of attempting to seduce Epiny and that she has been sent to a finishing school. He also reports Colonel Stiet’s open discrimination against the sons of new nobles, and he asks Nevare to help intercede with his uncle. Nevare chides Spink for what he regards as an overreaction but agrees to address the matter with his uncle. Nevare also chides Spink for offering to resign from the Academy after learning of the upcoming culling, and others of their cohort join in, exhorting Spink to fight for himself and for Epiny.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 17 pages in length, approximately 2.95% of the novel. One of the briefer chapters in the novel, it does seem to be setting up another narrative arc, presenting as it does specific challenges to Nevare and those around him, not only in the promised collective-punishment culling, but also in frustrations of Spink’s budding romantic interest in Epiny–and, it must be acknowledged, the seeming approach of something foreshadowed. Dark Evening, after all, is identified early in the novel (see “Sword and Pen,” linked above) as a potentially dangerous thing, and Nevare has been reminded (see “Letters from Home,” linked above, as well as “Séance” and “A Ride in the Park“) that Tree Woman is working. Too, the novel is in its final quarter at the end of the present chapter; it’s certainly time for things to be moving.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Caleb, Carsina Grenalter, Caulder Stiet, Colonel Stiet, Council of Lords, Daraleen Burvelle, Dark Evening, Dark Evening’s Eve, Drakes Hall, Dreadful Crimes, Epiny Burvelle, Gord Lading, Holy Writ, Jaris, Keft Burvelle, King Troven, King’s Cavalla Academy, King’s Road, Kort Braxan, Lord Jarfries, Lord Simem, Natred Verlaney, Nevare Burvelle, Newspapers, Old Thares, Oron, Rory, Sefert Burvelle, Selethe Burvelle, Sergeant Duril, Sondringham Hall, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Talerin Braxan, Tiber, Tobacco, Trist Wissom, Varnian, Widevale, Yaril Burvelle. Again, although the chapter is brief, there is much going on in it; it could well be expected to pull in a fair amount of material therefore.

An early comment in the chapter strikes me: when reading accounts of Dark Evning, Nevare wonders “What sane woman would leave her safe and comfortable home simply to indulge in one night of licentiousness?” (417). On the surface of it, there is some sense in such wonderings; questions of relative risk versus reward are most always worth considering. At the same time, the question speaks to the patriarchal / misogynistic tendencies of Gernian society, already mentioned as at work in the novel. (See, for reference, “Harbinger,” “The Return,” and the already-linked “Letters from Home,” “Séance,” and “A Ride in the Park.”) Too, certain assumptions are betrayed by the specific question: that the home is safe, that it is comfortable, that both safety and comfort are worth retaining, that a single night of licentiousness is all that is on offer, and likely others. It speaks perhaps (again) to the ongoing shelteredness Nevare displays; it is clear (again) that his upbringing has left him woefully ignorant of a number of things, and, given the social context in which it occurred, how similarly ignorant his father must have been is a question worth asking.

Reflecting on such things, I am reminded that Hobb makes much of second sons in her work. Verity in the Farseer novels is a second son, Brashen Trell in the Liveship Traders is also one, as is Selden Vestrit. The first must contend with his elevation and the consequences of the same, the second must address the youthful missteps made because of resentment of that position, and the third, although not much developed as a character by the time the Soldier Son novels were published (and presumably written), occupies a strangely hybrid position. There is a temptation to read Nevare (and, to a lesser extent due to less narrative focus, Keft) as an iteration of the role of a second son against the other examples in Hobb’s body of work, another scholarly someday that tantalizes; it seems something of a through-line in her writings and thus worth some attention.

I also note in the present chapter another repeated feature of the milieu: Gernian literacy. Caleb reads, and lends to Nevare, “several lewdly illustrated stories” (417), and he seemingly subscribes to a periodical (425), while Gord asks of his cohort “Don’t any of you read the newspapers?” (418). The presence of such things reinforces comments made regarding “The Academy” and (again) “Letters from Home,” that written culture in Gernia is far from restricted to elevated matters. It is a small thing, perhaps, but a telling one; for all the problems it has–and it has many–Gernia does seem to get some things right, and widespread literacy is such a thing. If it is the case, as I continue to contend, that Gernia is something of a stand-in for the United States, it may, if affectively, be taken as something of a hopeful sign.

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The seventeenth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “Tiber,” begins as Nevare and Spink are taken back to the King’s Cavalla Academy. Nevare ruminates on the experience of the séance, trying to slot that experience in with his beliefs and rejecting the whole thing as a childish error indulged once and not again. Nevare’s uncle, accompanying them, admonishes the cadets towards caution and obliges Nevare to write to him daily, reporting events.

Arriving at the Academy, Nevare’s uncle goes to call on Colonel Stiet while Nevare and Spink return to their quarters. Nevare thinks he sees Caulder Stiet along the way and muses on his lack of desire to do so. Spink speaks to Nevare of his infatuation with Epiny and asks Nevare his opinion of the matter, which Nevare offers: Epiny is childish and her mother would object to Spink. Spink takes the comments as offering hope, however, and Nevare concedes that he would be pleased to have Spink as kin, although Epiny still strikes him as an odd choice for a wife.

The pair join Caleb and Oron and hear report of their exploits on leave. When they return to their quarters, they find them in a state of upset, their goods having been strewn about and dirtied–although those of Natred and Kort are relatively untouched. Caleb and Oron report having no knowledge of the event, and a quick survey of other quarters finds Gord’s possessions more thoroughly vandalized. After a brief discussion and an equally brief internal consultation, Nevare reports the vandalism to Sergeant Rufet. The sergeant surveys the damage, questions cadets he can, and orders such restoration as he can, which is not much.

As cleanup commences and other cadets arrive, they express vexation at the situation. Much opprobrium attaches itself to Gord, and Rory opines on Gord having invited the abuses directed at him. Nevare makes his disapproval clear, and he muses on the divisions at work within his cohort. He also, as cleanup continues, finds that the stone Dewara had left in him has gone missing. When Gord returns, a posy pinned to his coat, he is beleagured by events and cadets’ reactions to the same, and he is shamed by excusing himself from doing more to aid the other cadet.

Nevare muses further on the divisions that have emerged within his cohort, and he finds himself summoned to an inquiry regarding Cadet Lieutenant Tiber. Rebuked for not being more forthcoming, Nevare is ordered to report events of the night Tiber and Gord had been injured; he follows the order, rehearsing events and noting the involvement of Caulder Stiet, Cadet Ordo, and Cadet Jaris in them. Colonel Stiet notes that he will be advising Nevare’s father of events and dismisses the cadet, but Lord Tiber, also present, interjects, even though his son is reinstated.

Belatedly, Nevare returns to his classes, considering how he must appear to his fellows, and the gloss of ensuring events confirms that appearance. He does write to his uncle, and he receives written rebuke from his father for his failure of forthrightness. Spink also begins receiving letters, largely from Epiny and mostly concerning Nevare. Nevare finds himself jealous that he has not received word from Carsina as he and Spink confer.

Time passes at the Academy, winter settling in. Nevare contrasts the suburban environment with that of his home and notes the prevalence of illness among his cohort. He also notes the increasing practice by professors at the Academy of pitting cadets against each other based on their backgrounds as older or newer noble lines. Actions by cadets against one another are noted.

The chapter concludes with an encounter between Nevare and Tiber, no longer a Cadet Lieutenant, but a Scout. The new Scout asks Nevare about his motives for acting and withholding action, and he explains his posting. Nevare notes that Captain Maw had suggested he would be a good Scout, and Tiber notes that he had received the same message, remarking that it is Maw’s way of trying to secure at least some future for cadets he expects will be discarded. Tiber departs, leaving Nevare to wonder at his own future.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 21 pages in length, approximately 3.64% of the novel. While the notion that chapter-length indicates importance has been displayed not to be in effect in the present novel, the present chapter does read less as driving things forward than it does as concluding some narrative threads. That of Tiber seems to have come to a close, for example; even if he does reappear (and it has been long enough since I last read the Soldier Son novels that I do not recall, which I am working to fix), his departure from the Academy at this point reads as another completed narrative arc. I do not know that there is quite as clean a break at the end of the present chapter as at the end of “The Return,” that the span of “Initiation” to “Tiber” is as discrete a story as the first five chapters of the novel offer (or that “Sword and Pen” through “Classmates” comprises one), but with Tiber having “walked away from [Nevare] into the cold and the dark” (415), it is clear that something has come to an end.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Cadet Lading, Cadet Lieutenant Tiber, Caleb, Captain Maw, Carneston House, Carsina Grenalter, Caulder Stiet, Colonel Stiet, Daraleen Burvelle, Dr. Amicas, Epiny Burvelle, Gettys, Gord Lading, Jaris, Keft Burvelle, King’s Cavalla Academy, King’s Road, Kort Braxan, Lord Tiber, Natred Verlaney, Nevare Burvelle, Ordo, Oron, Posy, Rory, Scout Tiber, Sefert Burvelle, Sergeant Rufet, Specks, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Tree Woman, Trist Wissom, Yaril Burvelle. It is not as exhaustive a list as some other chapters, even some shorter chapters, have generated, but it does offer some points of interest that might well be pursued later. There are scholarly somedays that might dawn from it.

A brief note before I go on: there is much that might be unpacked from Tiber’s name, as I probably ought to have done earlier. The word itself refers primarily to the river on the banks of which Rome stands (although there are other resonances that might be tracked). While the cadet lieutenant-turned-scout is the son of a new noble, so that there is some juxtaposition between the name and the Eternal City, it may be noted that the river does push forward; its mouth has demonstrably advanced, leaving what had been a port some distance inland. In the novel, Tiber has something of a reputation as a data-driven agitator, one working to upset practices that serve mostly to reinforce a status quo his family’s elevation threatens. Although there is some frustration of the comparison, he is something along the lines of various civil rights proponents, forward-thinking people, so there is something of the emblematic about his name, if subtle.

Another short note: the present chapter provides Gord’s surname, Lading. It is not directly expressed, requiring reference to the events of “Bessom Gord,” so I admit that it took a bit for me to make the connection, but it is still one I am glad to see in place. I am less glad to see the particular gesture towards emblematic naming; “lading” is cargo or the loading of the same, and given Rory’s comments about Gord as cleanup of the cadets’ rooms is underway, as well as long-standing remarks about his size, it seems something of a cruel joke for that to be his family name. In any case, earlier entries in my rereading have been updated to accommodate the new name, as was done with earlier name-revelations.

The chapter largely serves as a meditation on courage and an(other) display of Nevare’s failure in that quality. Here, as elsewhere, Nevare is forced to confront his refusal to do what he knows he is supposed to do; he knows he is supposed to report wrongdoings he observes, something demonstrated early on in the novel. (Given that Nevare finds rebuke, perhaps obliquely, for having done so, he might be forgiven for not being so forthcoming later in his life, but it seems a strange lesson for a protagonist to have taken. Then again, it is not the case that protagonists necessarily must be figures for emulation; Caxton bids readers of Malory, whose knights are not always in the right, to “Doo after the good and leue the euyl” they display, and Hobb’s own focal characters in other works are not always or necessarily often exemplars to follow [as witness this, among others]). Here, as elsewhere, Nevare is rebuked for not doing what he knows he ought to do. Here, as is less common elsewhere, Nevare is contrasted with those who are courageous, including Epiny. The juxtaposition between the ideal he acknowledges aspiring towards and his actual behavior is especially emphatic in the present chapter. Whether this is a permanent thing or part of his continued development as a character, something overcome later, the continued rereading will remind me, and I look forward to finding out again.

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The sixteenth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “A Ride in the Park,” starts with Nevare being worken by a servant and attending religious services. Said services are described, along with Nevare’s intense prayers and Epiny’s seeming irreverence. The meditation that follows is briefly glossed, and Nevare and Spink have an easy afternoon. Spink takes the opportunity to consult closely with Epiny, while Nevare applies himself to his studies.

At dinner that evening, Nevare mentions Gord, occasioning questions from Epiny and Sefert, which leads to a long conversation in which Sefert presses Spink and Nevare for uncomfortable details about their experiences of the Academy. The assaults on Gord and on Cadet Lieutenant Tiber are reported, and Sefert offers rebuke to his nephew for his lack of forthrightness. As Sefert asks more questions and learns more of the situation at the Academy, he begins to opine on the political state of Gernia, noting tensions among the nobility, both between old and new nobles and within each group. Acknowledging Nevare’s concerns, he presses on to note the threat of civil war, remarking with candor on the state of the royal finances and the implications of King Troven’s expansionist ideas. That Nevare has been kept ignorant of such matters is noted, although Spink’s direct experience of the tensions and problems attendant upon the expansion is atteted.

Nevare muses on the differences in how his father and uncle had been educated, and he retires for the evening in poor spirits. The next morning, he wakes early and with some annoyance, which is furthered as Epiny intrudes on him amid his morning toilet. After a pointed exchange, he agrees to go riding with her and Spink, and their progress to and through a notable park. Nevare worries about the perceived propriety of doing so and is exasperated by Epiny as she spurs her horse into a headlong race across the park, guiding the trio to a less-frequented area thereof. There, after chiding Nevare for his worry about her and hearing Spink’s remarks about his family’s perspective on women’s education, Epiny proposes a séance, noting that the previous evening’s experience had both not been one and had been Nevare’s doing. She describes her experience of being a medium and demonstrates it for the cadets, speaking with voices not entirely her own.

One of those voices is that of Tree Woman, who upbraids and threatens Nevare before departing and leaving Epiny spent. Nevare’s old scalp-wound pains him, and he and Spink manage to revive Epiny and return her home, where she begins to convalesce. That she is often thus afflicted worries Nevare, and the two ready to return to the Academy in worse spirits yet.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 24 pages in length, approximately 4.16% of the novel–entirely average by that measure. It is increasingly clear as the novel proceeds, however, that length is not an indicator of narrative importance; the if mentioned in earlier discussions of the point (such as this one) is clearly not in place. Were I still working at the front of the classroom, or were I yet writing lesson plans, I might well ask students about the function of that disjunction; it might well be expected that more resources would be spent on things of more importance, so there should be some significance, some thing being done, that the expectation is thwarted. It is the kind of thing that invites consideration, and not only in literature, where it can serve as training to attend to such details and to consider the ramificaitons of the same.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Barrier Mountains, Brandy, Cadet Lieutenant Tiber, Caulder Stiet, Celeste, Colonel Stiet, Council of Lords, Cutthew’s Park, Cyclist, Daraleen Burvelle, Epiny Burvelle, Gord Lading, Grand Promenade, Guide Porilet, Holy Writ, King Darwell, King Troven, King’s Cavalla Academy, King’s Road, Landsing, Laurel, Lord Tiber, Necessary Tasks, Nevare Burvelle, Old Thares, Punishments, Purissa Burvelle, Rails, Rustian Sea, Sabbath, Sefert Burvelle, Sirlofty, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Tree Woman, Trist Wissom, Varnian. It is not the longest list of indexable items, certainly, although there are some items of particular interest.

The inclusion of the cyclist in the list above perhaps deserves some explanation. He is encountered only in passing, forced aside as Nevare and Spink pursue Epiny (382). The chief interest I have in him is his suggestion of a more exact time-parallel for the novels to the United States. The mention of the cyclist in the text is matter-of-fact; there is no excitement or assertion of unusualness for the cycle or its rider to be in place. Consequently, the cycle cannot be a new thing in Gernia at the time the novel takes place–especially given that Nevare, being provincial, seemingly regards it as a commonplace. The bicycle, as such, occupied a position as a commonplace in the late nineteenth century in the United States after having been present for some decades, per the Smithsonian. Join that with the King’s Road, something mimetic of the Transcontinental Railroad (in addition to the off-handed mention of “rail lines in Old Thares” [379]) first completed in 1869 but under construction in 1863 and begun in preliminary conceptual fashion in the decades before, as well as the overt efforts at suppression of indigenous peoples and the rumblings of civil war (375), and the parallel between the novel’s milieu and its real-antecedent would seem to be sometime around 1860. Again, it is inexact, and some ideas are in tension with one another, but I’ve remarked before (here, here, and here, most relevantly) that a one-to-one correspondence is not necessary for a literary parallel to be present.

I note of Epiny’s described and presented experience as a medium parallells–again, inexact but identifiable–with descriptions of the Skill in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus. (I know that the Soldier Son novels deserve consideration as themselves, but they are also part of a broader body of work by the author; they cannot be considered, not wholly or authentically, without recourse to the context in which they are composed. And it’s not like this is the first point at which I’ve pointed out the connections between the works, as witness “Crossing the Bridge” and “Journey” already linked above, as well as comments regarding “Magic and Iron.”) In the case of the Skill, practitioners are admonished to be wary of giving into the magic’s euphoric pull; they are also advised, when confronted with much worked Skill-stone, to hold back from fully immersing themselves in it, lest they be overtaken by those whose memories are stored in such workings. More of the latter than the former appears to be at work in the present chapter, with Epiny begging that Spink and Nevare not “let me get lost here in the wind” (389) and being beseiged by surrounding spirits. That she is pushed through by Tree Woman (391) also seems to echo Verity’s pushing through August via the Skill and its effects, although Epiny does not suffer so much as the Farseer cousin. While it is the case that such depictions as of Epiny correspond with what I had already known about such things–some friends and some other associates follow such practices and study them, and I do talk with people about their work–that there are some echoes of Hobb’s earlier works continue to attract my attention.

I additionally note, reading affectively again, Epiny’s and Spink’s comments about social expectations of Gernian women. Epiny continues to chafe against the idea that Nevare espouses of proper womanhood; Spink notes his mother’s suffering from not knowing what she needed to know to ensure that she was not defrauded (383-85). I remark in my comments on the previous chapter that Epiny voices something like second-wave feminism; Spink, in relating the difficulties his mother faced because she had not been taught much and her desire that her daughters would not be in such a position, brings to mind not only my aspirations for my daughter’s education (I have long said to her that I will not always be able to be here for her, which she hates but acknowledges is true), but also what happened to my grandmother when my grandfather died. He had managed the household accounts, and it was some time before she was able to get things under control, not only due to the grief of losing a decades-long partner, but also because she had not known what was being done and why. She was fortunate to have trusted advice and attentive children to ensure she was not defrauded–but I have known many women who were not so fortunate, and I have heard about yet more than that. It’s an unfortunate bit of verisimilitude at work, but not less authentic for being unhappy.

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Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The fifteenth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “Séance,” opens as Nevare, Epiny, and Spink reach the older Burvelle estate, where each goes to prepare for dinner. Spink asks Nevare if he had been too forward with Epiny, and the two confer somewhat awkwardly about Nevare’s cousin and about Nevare’s own strange behaviors. Their talk soon turns to family estates, Spink laying out details of his home in Bittersprings; he notes that the land does not yield much agriculturally but that it produces stone in abundance. The perceived perils of such thoughts receive attention, and Nevare returns the conversation to the safer topic of Bittersprings’s history, upon which Spink readily expounds.

The conversation is interrupted by Epiny at the door, breathing through a whistle while waiting for a lull in the cadets’ talk to summon them to dinner. After a barbed exchange, Epiny goes on ahead of her cousin and his friend, leaving the two to confer about her oddity and Nevare to muse on his sisters as they follow. Sefert begins the meal, and Nevare tucks in, enjoying the food, which is described in some detail. Spink talks at some length with Sefert about the estate throughout the meal. Both join Sefert, Epiny, and Purissa for games of Towsers afterward, the play of which is glossed until Sefert, taking the excuse of seeing Purissa to bed, departs.

Nevare attempts to extricate himself from the game at that point, but Spink determines to remain with Epiny, so he himself remains at the game until after Sefert briefly returns to remind the three of the next morning’s services. When he retires from doing so, Epiny suggests the three conduct a séance, explaining the concept to Spink. Discussion ensues, not entirely pleasantly, and Nevare finds himself reluctantly engaged in one with his cousin and his friend, his own use of the keep fast charm common among the cavalla and borrowed from the Plainsfolk engaged against him.

As the three sit to the event, Nevare and Epiny encounter strange resistance to joining hands. A strange voice speaks from Nevare’s mouth, shocking all present, and Epiny breaks the ceremony. In its wake, the three confer about the event, purposing to seek further into the presence that has attached itself to Nevare. They soon all retire for the night, Nevare finding sleep gratefully.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 18 pages in length, approximately 3.12% of the novel. While not the shortest chapter in the novel, it is one of the shorter ones, and I find myself wondering if it might not have done well conjoined to the preceding chapter; I do not know that the pacing is necessarily well served by the divison. I do not know that it is not, however, and I do know that, having been otherwise busy, I appreciate having some shorter work to treat, even if I remain as prolix as ever while treating it.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Bittersprings, Cavalla, Council of Lords, Daraleen Burvelle, Epiny Burvelle, Guide Porilet, Holy Writ, Hotorn Burvelle, Keep Fast Charm, Keft Burvelle, Kellon Spinrek Kester, Medium, Nevare Burvelle, Offeri, Old Square, Old Thares, Otter, Plainsfolk, Purissa Burvelle, Séance, Sebanese, Sebany, Sefert Burvelle, Selethe Burvelle, Sergeant Duril, Speck, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Stone, Tobacco, Towsers, Widevale. As a shorter chapter, it might well be expected that there are fewer indexable items to find in it.

It is perhaps the brevity of the chapter that makes its iteration of something like second-wave feminist discourse stand out. As Nevare, Epiny, and Spink discuss the propriety of conducting a séance (360-61), Nevare, concerned most with adherence to convention and the rules* notes that the prospect of one “sounds unholy, and completely unfit for a girl to be interested in.” Epiny retorts with a comment about the Gernian queen’s** engagement with such practices and her comment that “much of what is judged ‘unfit for women to pursue’ are the very sciences and disciplines that lead to power,” and she finds some agreement from Spink, who adds “The complete texts of the Holy Writ are forbidden to them; they only study the writings given specifically for women. The arts and sciences of war are judged unfit…if those be the paths to power, then, yes, perhaps women are denied those paths when they are denied those disciplines.” The conversation continues, leading to the idea–which Nevare cannot answer–that it is only because men have women upon whom to rely that they can pursue those paths which they deny to women; Epiny presents as in opposition to the rightness of such an idea, to the idea that she is and must be less because she is a she. It is an agitation against institutional inequality based on perceptions of proper roles assigned to genders, and if it is something that Hobb has treated in her works before†, it is nonetheless something that bears continued consideration.

It is also perhaps due to the brevity of the chapter that a typographical error stands out: at one point (365), Spink is rendered as “Speck.” It would be easy enough to regard it as only a typographical error were it not clear that the strange voice speaking through Nevare–and, indeed, attempting to work magic through him–is the Tree Woman of the Dappled People who has claimed Nevare. More than a slip of the keys seems to be at work, although I do not think it a deliberate thing.‡

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*Of course, Nevare is not so concerned with adherence to the rules as all that, as evidenced by his selective adherence to the honor code at his school, as witness his refusal to report the fight between Trist and Spink over the former’s defacing of the latter’s textbook in “Bessom Gord,” among others. He seems to rely on rules as a means to protect himself and his perceptions more than as a matter of actual principle; to his credit, he does at several points in the novel contemplate the degree to which he is a coward for doing so.

**I note that, as with Selethe Burvelle before, the queen of Gernia has been repeatedly referenced by title but not by name. The same is not true of Gernia’s king, Troven, whose name appears before even that of Nevare’s mother, in “Crossing the Bridge.” It is, I think, another indication of the prevailing sexism at work in Gernia, something unfortunately true to the milieu’s antecedents. That does not make the milieu or the writing bad; it is not a bad thing to be confronted by the uncomfortable or the outright wrong in a work of fiction, especially when such is held up as something to be questioned or repudiated.

†See, for example, “Ephron Vestrit,” “The Liveship Ophelia,” “Immersions,” “Tidings,” “Dragon and Satrap,” “Vows,” and “Discoveries.” Related is the gender fluidity of the Fool in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus. It is also worth noting that scholarship on Hobb’s works has treated such matters, as witness Bokne, Borowska-Szerszun, and Flegel and Roth, among others. And I am reminded again that I need to update some of my bibliographic works…as time allows.

‡Insofar as “deliberate” matters with such things. Although it is curious that it slipped by so many as it did, given circumstances of textual production…a lot of eyes missed it, and while the old adage reminds us that “Even Homer nods,” the equally Classical Argus reminds us that too many eyes closing is a perilous thing. (And it reminds me of a bit of a joke, to boot.)

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