A Robin Hobb Rereading Series, Entry 511: Shaman’s Crossing, Chapter 1

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


The first chapter of the Solder Son trilogy, Shaman’s Crossing‘s “Magic and Iron,” opens with the narrating protagonist, Nevare Burvelle, joining his father on a trip to relatively nearby Franner’s Bend. The approach to the location, its general appearance, and its significance are explained. Nevare confers with his temporary tutor, Corporal Parth, about some details thereof and is answered tersely. Nevare’s father adds details about local indigenous populations as Nevare considers economic details and his family’s fortunes. Nevare’s father explicates some family roles, and Nevare muses on others, including shifts to his own education.

Very much the kind of thing that comes to mind, yeah.
Photo by Alex Trinh on Pexels.com

Arriving at the military headquarters in Franner’s Bend, Nevare’s father gives instructions to Parth for Nevare’s education and proceeds inside to confer with the local commander. Parth offers only a desultory compliance with the instructions before tucking into the local canteen for beer and gossip, turning Nevare out to play with local boys, including Carky and Vev’s son Raven. Nevare watches the rough play among them until the arrival of Scout Halloran and his daughter attract attention. The scout, his situation, and his daughter are described, with Nevare recalling his mother’s disparaging comments and prevailing disparaging attitudes about mixed-heritage unions and their progeny.

Halloran leaves his daughter to make his report to the local commander, and Nevare is startled by his willingness to do so, contrasting it with the treatment his sisters, Elisi and Yaril, receive. The local boys urge Nevare to guide the scout’s daughter to them, citing her evident collaring with iron as proof of her restraint, and Nevare, not fully understanding their intent, makes to comply. The young woman deflects Nevare from aiding in entrapping her, but the local boys press them, and Nevare finds himself taken aback by their disrespect and assaulted by them along with Halloran’s daughter. She demonstrates that she is not as restrained as had been thought and works magic against her attackers. The event sends Raven and Carky sprawling, and Raven’s brother Darda flees.

The attack dissuaded, Raven upbraids Halloran’s daughter, Sil, until Halloran returns and pointedly rebukes him. The commotion attracts attention, including from Vev and Nevare’s father. The latter dismisses the clearly inadequate Parth, and the local commander finally arrives, questioning Halloran about events. Nevare makes his report of events, which stymies grumbling for a moment before the local commander rebukes Halloran for having brough Sil with him. A fracas ensues, leading to Halloran laying Vev out in the street; Nevare’s father reminds the local commander that Vev struck an officer, leading to Vev’s banishment from Franner’s Bend. Nevare’s father, Keft, asks Nevare what happened and receives as full report as a boy can give. The local commander attempts to smooth matters over, to little success.

Leaving Franner’s Bend, Nevare’s father discuss events. The latter’s distaste for what had happened is given context; the local commander, Hent, is not good at his job, and Halloran has, in his estimation, erred via miscegenation. He also offers Nevare an opportunity to reflect by way of punishment.

Given the many times when rereading the Realm of the Elderlings novels that I expressed a desire to have a cohesive edition of those novels to read and look at page-counts by chapter, I am pleased to note that I do have such cohesion among my copies of the Soldier Son novels. Each is printed by Eos, and each is a first edition, so I should be able to take them as a reasonable set of writings from which to do the kinds of things I’d wanted to do with others of Hobb’s writings. The present chapter is 24 pages in length, out of 577 in the novel (disregarding front matter), thus approximately 4.16% of the total main text; this is roughly proportional (rounding happens), given that there are 24 chapters in the novel.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Bejawi, Carky, Commander Hent, Dancing Spindle, Darda, Elisi Burvelle, Franner’s Bend, Gernia, Halloran, Iron, Keft Burvelle, Kidona, Nevare Burvelle, Parth, Raven, Scout , Sil, Sisi, Varnia, Vev, Widevale, Yaril Burvelle. I’d noted in some of the comments I made rereading the Realm of the Elderlings corpus that I’d wished I’d indexed things better. Starting a new series seems a good time to start a better practice.

Less…stiltedly, the opening chapter of the series does a lot of explication, which it ought well to do. The overall setting is glossed smoothly, presented as distinctly different from the mainstream Tolkienian tradition of fantasy literature. An ambiguous feudalism seems to be in place, admittedly, with references to inheritable lordships and the like, as well as the older mythological / legendary commonplace regarding the magic-inhibiting properties of iron, but there is also a clear demarcation of military ranks immediately recognizable as belonging to later periods, as well as the presence of firearms. The latter two, the ranking and weapons, move far afield from Lord of the Rings and, indeed, most mainstream fantasy literature, going away from the medieval/ist towards the modern; Colonel and Corporal, the referenced ranks, are both noted by Merriam-Webster as first used in the 1500s, and after even a late reasonable idea for the end of the medieval, and cannon appear rarely if ever (about which I’ve remarked once or twice in this series).

Other details of the setting emerge, and quickly, that make clear why Carroll and Young both found things to say about the series. There is, in the comments of Nevare’s father and others, a clear if convoluted honor culture at work in Gernia; there is also in those comments a decided sense of colonialist entitlement that brings to mind Kipling and many even less gracious commentaries about indigenous populations. There are also, as is the case with the Liveship and Rain Wilds novels, concerns of gender norms presented early, which contribute to marking the milieu as a thinly veiled pastiche of the post-Civil-War United States, as I’ve argued. (A scholarly someday re-suggests itself; I really ought to expand the old conference paper and post it. But the fact of the argument itself serves to show that I have read the Soldier Son novels before, even if it has been a while.)

I’ll readily admit that my (re-)reading of the material is heavily influenced by my having grown up in the Texas Hill Country, which makes much of its Old West background and heritage. In the town where I grew up, Kerrville, there is the Museum of Western Art to consider, as well as a fair bit of local history (on which current mayor Joe Herring, Jr., is something of a leading expert); nearby is Camp Verde, the site of the US Army’s camel experiment; not much further off is the Cowboy Capital OF the World, Bandera, Texas (yes, the OF is emphasized); also-nearby Fredericksburg, Texas, hosts Fort Martin Scott; and there are many other sites in the area that report and celebrate (and, yes, occasionally mourn) the frontier spirit. Having spent my formative years there (and going often to San Antonio, with the Alamo, the Missions, and the like), I grew up with a lot of that mythology and self-fashioning in mind (for good and ill); I read even in the opening chapter of Shaman’s Crossing a lot of words I heard in my youth, or a lot of words damned close to what I heard, and I expect I’ll have more to say about things as I read on again.

One other thing comes to mind at the moment: the narrative perspective. Much of the Realm of the Elderlings novels are written from a first-person retrospective stance; Fitz recounts what he remembers of his experiences at various points, as Bee does hers. Nevare is set up to do much the same thing…which does lead a reader to wonder if Hobb might expect lightning to strike again or if she is getting locked into particular patterns. I’ve not read the novels in a while, so I don’t remember fully how Nevare compares to Fitz, although it is clear that he has a more wholesome beginning than his predecessor, being legitimate and actively parented, even if with some difficulties already made clear. Perhaps yet another scholarly someday presents itself; I look forward to the continued rereading to find out again!

Maybe you’d like some materials for your own summer enrichment? I can help! Fill out the form below to get yours started!

← Back

Thank you for your response. ✨

Or you can send your support along directly!

Leave a comment