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

There’s some physical abuse in the present chapter.

---

The thirteenth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “Bessom Gord,” opens on Nevare’s third month of study and the continued adjustments to prevailing patterns of study and life. Political concerns make themselves felt at the Academy, increasing tensions between older and newer noble families even as it offers the cadets unexpected leave-time. Plans for the spending of the same are noted and much in mind as classes proceed.

As the legislative meeting approaches that had occasioned the tensions, Nevare and his cohort are made to stand aside and wait for another group of cadets to arrive at the Academy mess. It is tersely explained that the other group, from Chesterton House, are particularly noble-blooded, Corporal Dent rebuking the cadets in his charge for presuming to equal footing with them. The harangue continues at the mess table, Dent upbraiding putatively upstart youths and focusing on Gord, whose status as a soldier son is called into question. The cadet answers as he can, and Dent finds himself very much the center of his cadets’ ire.

Despite their unity against Dent, tensions remain in place among Nevare’s cohort. Spink and Trist become increasingly antagonistic, and Nevare considers his doubts of Gord, who continues to endure insult to Spink’s frustration. Those tensions culminate in a brief altercation between Trist and Spink in which the latter subdues the former, to the surprise of all assembled and despite attempts to defuse the situation. Matters are put to rights before Dent can arrive and administer punishment, however, and Gord’s absence is suddenly noted.

Nevare works through implications of Gord’s absence as Trist and Spink trade barbs. He also considers the stone Dewara had left in him and the lessons Sergeant Duril had taught him until his reverie is broken by the intrusion of Caulder into the dormitory. He conveys a summons to Nevare and Spink, bidding them come to the infimary to retrieve Gord and occasioning a small outburst from Nevare. Arriving at the infirmary, they confer with campus physician, Dr. Amicas, who reports that Gord appears to have been beaten in what seems a string of assaults on the sons of newly appointed nobles. No reports that he can act on reach him, however, and Gord’s refusal to offer such leaves him frustrated as he discharges the cadet into his comrades’ care.

Returning to their dormitory with Nevare and Spink, Gord offers a cursory summary of events and his reasoning for having left the dorm in the first place. He also upbraids Spink for engaging Trist at his own level, laying out his philosophy regarding people and their cruelties. Nevare reconisders Gord and approaches to leadership, but his reverie is broken again by the appearance of Caulder, trumpeting the assault of another student. Nevare has Spink convey Gord back to the dormitory and moves to investigate, finding Tiber beaten and reeking. Nevare attempts to render aid; Jaris and Ordo join, and Nevare grows wary. Before more can happen, Amicas arrives, taking Tiber into his care and dismissing Nevare back to his dormitory.

Arriving at Carneston, Nevare reports in to Sergeant Rufet, who lets slip an opinion he chokes back suddently before sending Nevare to his rooms. In the dark, he and Spink confer about events, and Nevare slips into a dream of the tree woman. She quizzes Nevare about his progress and is answered with confusion. She then notes moving to act, warning Nevare not to resist the coming call of magic. He wakes in the dark and looks forward to a poor day to come.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 40 pages in length, approximately 6.78% of the novel. It is the longest yet; if, as has been motioned toward previously, the amount of text bespeaks importance, then the present chapter would seem to be the most important yet in the novel, and by a significant margin. Admittedly, it remains the case that “if” does a lot of work in that assertion, but there are several things going on–almost more than seem as should be yoked together; I have to wonder if the interlude with Tiber wouldn’t’ve worked better in a later chapter than in the present one, for example. It’s somehow rushed, to my reading, although I will acknowledge that that might well be a matter of my own taste rather than one that is an issue of craft.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Bejawi, Bessom, Cadet Lieutenant Tiber, Caleb, Carneston House, Carneston House Riders, Carsina Grenalter, Caulder Stiet, Chesterton House, Colonel Stiet, Corporal Dent, Council of Lords, Dewara, Dr. Amicas, Garin, Gord Lading, Herdo, An Introduction to the Houses of King’s Cavalla Academy, Jaris, Keft Burvelle, King Corag, King’s Cavalla Academy, Kort Braxan, Lieutenant Geeverman, Natred Verlaney, Nevare Burvelle, Old Thares, Ordo, Oron, Plainsfolk, Rory Hart, “Selecting Strategy in Uneven Terrain,” Sergeant Erib Duril, Sergeant Rufet, Sharpton Hall, Skeltzin Hall, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Stone, Tobacco, Tree Woman, Trist Wissom, Varnian, Writ, Yaril Burvelle. Despite the length of the chapter, more of it seems to be more narrowly focused than a number of previous portions of the novel.

A note prompted by the indexing items: I note citations by cadets of seemingly standard texts, the Introduction to the Houses of King’s Cavalla Academy and “Selecting Strategy in Uneven Terrain.” I’ve commented before in rereading the present novel (here and here, as well as in the immediately previous chapter) on the importance of writing within the milieu. As previously, it makes sense that an author, earning a living from writing, would hold to the idea that writing is important and would present such an idea in her work. The more often it appears, after all, the more likley it is to be taken up and believed, and engendering such belief works to an author’s advantage; it’s not only lies that seem more true the more often repeated, after all, and there are truths to be found in fiction. And there is Hobb’s push for verisimilitude to consider, as well. Standardized curricula, with presumably standardized sets of texts, are nothing new, and the West Point after which I contend the Cavalla Academy is modeled used to have a single course of study; it stands to reason that cadets would make reference to works with which they could well consider their comrades to be familiar, and that they do so, that they act in a way that corresponds to readerly experience, does a little bit more to make Gernia an accessible milieu for the reader.

Another note, although not prompted by the indexing items: the thirteenth chapter might well be considered unlucky. Given what happens to several characters in the chapter, I’m not sure “unlucky” is an appropriate descriptor, although “unfortunate” does seem to apply; neither Gord nor Tiber seem to be facing Sajak or Seacrest. How deliberate a thing this is is arguable, of course; authorial intent is chimerical at best, and I’m in good company in having not seldom stated that intention matters less than effect.

An additional note: Gord’s explication of his approach to life, his assertion that the cruel should be made to change more than those upon whom they perpetuate cruelty and that his refusal to engage with his bullies on their own terms serves his purposes and his own ethos, stands out for me. There is nuance in his stated perspective; he does acknowledge that, at root, any military organization is inherently concerned with the application of force and the enactment of violence, even as he argues that he and his comrades ought well to be something more than blunt instruments to enable to enactment of brutality. The discussion touches on deeper ethical issues of the purpose of a military at all, something that has been and remains a fraught issue, and not only in the United States. Violence would seem at some level to be necessarily available; there are always situations that will not admit of reasoned debate, always some things in the world that will not be persuaded by informed discourse. But making it the sole or even primary determiner of right…there is a reason ad baculum has been recognized as folly for a long, long time, and Gord is right to point out the error of such thinking. That Nevare seems to consider it closely should probably not be taken as a comment on the author’s perspectives on the matter; again, authorial intent is not something to pursue much if at all, and the idea that any character, even a narrating protagonist, is necessarily the same as the author is…not one to entertain.* But whether or not Hobb adopts any particular position, the position Gord presents and Nevare considers is certainly one worth considering.

---

*I’ve discussed this kind of thing before, here and elsewhere.

If you’d like some expert writing done, fill out the form below!

Or you can send your support along directly!

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

---

The twelfth chapter of Shaman’s Crossing, “Letters from Home,” starts with Nevare glossing his and his remaining comrades’ accommodation to their reduced post-culling numbers. Nevare does note the disparities in punishment among cadets for their actions, however, with him agreeing with Rory’s assertion that they had been set up to fail. Routines reassert themselves, and Nevare finds himself growing closer in friendship with the members of his cohort.

Tensions between centers of power in that cohort, Spink and Trist, are exmplified in how Caulder Stiet is handled. The youth’s annoying common practices are described, as are some of the illicit proclivities of the corps of cadets, and Spink’s clear disapproval of the boy is made evident. Discussion of their relative fathers ensues, leaving Caulder to embarrass himself through revelation of his thoughts about the new nobles’ sons. Trist, whose casual attitudes and easy charisma are attested, takes the boy in hand and escorts him away, drawn by the lure of tobacco. Other cadets follow, and it is clear that Caulder had been ill on the stairs of their residence hall, to the delight of some cadets. Spink rebukes the prank on the boy and Trist’s evasion of punishment for the same, and he is vexed by Trist’s management of the situation to his own privilege.

The continued association between Trist and Caulder receives comment, and Nevare muses both on the benefits Trist receives therefrom and the disparity of distribution of those benefits. He also remarks on his ongoing academic achievement and the struggles of several of his comrades. Amid those remarks, Nevare reports an uncomfortable conversation with his engineering professor, Captain Maw, who suggests he might take a commission as a scout and leave the Academy. Nevare demurs, but he is unsettled by the exchange.

Nevare also reports the experience of being a guest at his uncle’s home on occasional leave-days. Tension remains in place between him and his aunt, Daraleen, and he remarks on not seeing his cousin, Epiny, but he does forge deeper bonds with his uncle, Sefert, as well as his cousins Horotn and Purissa. He also inadvertently occasions an argument between Sefert and Daraleen that leaves him once again quite uncomfortable.

The Academy’s instructional term continues, and Nevare’s hopes for his mounted drills are thwarted by changes to institutional policy. The differences in experience among the cadets shows up, and Nevare complains of the policy change in a letter to his intended. His epistolary practice towards her is remarked upon, and Nevare finds himself comparing his retained token of Carsina’s affection to his comrades’ similar items. When he receives a letter that carries a scent of gardenia, he exults, finding a secret letter from Carsina tucked inside a missive from Yaril, and he replies to both swiftly, the latter with some tension.

Nevare dreams of receiving more mail from Carsina. One such dream turns odd, presenting his sister’s letter as a leaf that withers in his hands and Carsina’s enclosing pressed flowers that grow into him and begin to consume him as they develop faces. The tree woman confronts Nevare, charging him again to turn back Gernia’s advance. He is aghast at the satisfaction he feels from the dream as Spink wakes him, and he cannot return to sleep. The next day sees him suffer from the lack of rest; it also sees him receive letters from home, including one from Carsina that is supposed to have pressed flowers within. Said flowers, despite the speed with which the letter had reached him, have already decayed to dust.

To address the chapter-length issue: the present chapter, in the edition of the novel I’m rereading, runs 27 pages in length, approximately 4.58% of the novel. Halfway through the chapter-count, the novel has used 307 of its pages, approximately 52.03% of the total. Even allowing for rounding, the novel is slightly front-loaded, although some front-loading might well be expected in what is avowedly the first novel in a series. Such a work might well be expected to take more time in explication than in direct narrative thrust, leaving the bulk of the latter to the anticipated succeeding volumes. That does not much seem to be the case with the present novel, however, especially not given the presence of a distinct narrative arc being completed in the novel already,* albeit one that has appeared to have effects reaching forward into the rest of the text.

Also, for indexing purposes, the following: Bringham House, Caleb, Captain Maw, Carneston House, Carsina Grenalter, Caulder Stiet, Colonel Stiet, Commander’s table, Corporal Dent, Council of Lords, Daraleen Burvelle, Devlin Kester, Epiny Burvelle, Forget-me-not, Gardenia, Garter Anne, Gernia, Gord Lading, Guide Porliet, Hotorn Burvelle, Keft Burvelle, Kellon Spinrek Kester, King’s Cavalla Academy, Kort Braxan, Lady Midowne’s Historical Society, Lavender, Leaf, Lieutenant Wurtram, Lord Grenalter, Natred Verlaney, Nevare Burvelle, Oak, Old Thares, Oron, Pansies, Peppermint, Plainsfolk, Purissa Burvelle, Rory Hart, Scout, Scout Vaxton, Sefert Burvelle, Sergeant Rufet, Seventeen C, Sirlofty, Skeltzin Hall, Spinrek “Spink” Kester, Tobacco, Tree woman, Trist Wissom, Varnian, Violets, Widevale, Yaril Burvelle. The present chapter finally gives Trist’s surname of Wissom; I have gone back to earlier entries that index him and added that surname. I’ll continue to do such things as I encounter fuller names of characters, as I’ve done before.

As might be expected from a chapter with such a title as the present chapter bears, letters feature prominently. There is, of course, a long epistolary tradition in literature, explication of which far exceeds what can be presented comfortably in the present posting and what should be attempted in the same; that the present chapter makes much of letters, despite not directly depicting much of their textual detail, does help to situate the present novel in that literary tradition, something that serves to make it less remore and thus more accessible, increasing its verisimilitude and thus the correspondence of the narrative sub-creation to readerly experience and acculturation (per Tolkien), easing willing suspension of disbelief (per Coleridge). (You see, I can still ground my musings in formal discursive terms, even years outside academe.) And in keeping with that tradition, the details that do emerge bespeak the characters involved; that Carsina’s letters to Nevare are noted for their childishness and disregard of spelling convention suggests that their writer, herself, is both childish and ill-tutored. While it is the case that the spelling of Carsina’s writing follows sound, and it is the case that early orthographies functioned similarly (which I know from experience, having done a bit of work in early English print history and pre-print literatures), Gernia is not presented as being an early-literate society. The presence of seemingly mass-produced, lowbrow series (as witness this) and, if memory serves, newspapers, strongly suggest an active printing industry, and there’d not be such a thing without a large reading public. Instead, it comes off as something of an infantilization of Carsina, which aligns with the prevailing gender roles presented as at work in Gernia, even though several of the female characters presented thus far–Selethe and Yaril Burvelle come to mind–are less…subjected to that particular bit of acculturation.

To turn to another topic: Hobb, in the Realm of the Elderlings series, does a whole lot of foreshadowing, both directly within works and across the decades of composition by calling back from later volumes to occasional off-handed comments in earlier ones. Prophecy is an orienting principle of that body of work. It bleeds over into Soldier Son, with the present chapter showing more than its share thereof. The conversation between Maw, a preferred instructor who is depicted as even-handed and genuinely concerned with his students’ welfare, and Nevare regarding the possibility of the latter serving as a scout suggests, even without the vantage of rereading, that Nevare is not likely to succeed in his pre-selected path.** The issues with the face-bearing flowers that wither away is another example, both realized in the present chapter and portending much else to come. Other things also emerge that seem to foretell associations–and, given the general shape of Hobb’s writing, misfortunes to come. Some of them, if memory serves, are not unpleasant to see; others are less happy for readers. It will be good to see which is which as I continue to reread the works.

---

*To return to this conceit: I remain convinced that the first five chapters would read well as a stand-alone novella, and I have to wonder if they constituted a prospectus for the Soldier Son as a whole. So much said, I do not know if other parts of the novel section off so neatly. I am tempted to read the end of “Initiation” as the end of another such section, although I do not think “Sword and Pen” through that chapter stand quite so solidly on their own as the first five chapters do. Still, were I writing up a lesson plan again, I think that probably would be where I split off a new section; front matter through the fifth chapter, then the sixth through eleventh chapters. I’ll need to reread more to figure out where I’d make the next division; it’s been a while since I’ve gone through this novel and the others in the series, after all. But I do look forward to the work of doing so again.

**Going to the affective again, I once again feel for Nevare in this. I’ve addressed the matter more than once, as witness this and this; I don’t know that I need to rehash it again at the moment, but I think it’s worth pointing out both my reaction and why I have it. I suppose I come down as heavily in reader-response theory in my approach, such as it is anymore.

I’d still be thrilled if you’d have me write for you; fill out the form below to begin!

Or you can send your support along directly!