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

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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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