A Robin Hobb Rereading Series, Entry 447: Fool’s Quest, Chapter 25

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

Got another content warning on this chapter: torture.


Following a report to Chade that discusses the end of Andronicus Kent and the ascent of Chassim, “Red Snow” begins with Fitz and Fleeter proceeding at speed, Fitz detailing their progress through the night and into the dawn. He notes passing “a rare shrine to Eda” (474) as he and his horse move ahead, and Fitz tries to puzzle out his quarry’s path. His thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of the crow, Motley, who croaks out a warning that Fitz heeds, and he is more cautious as he approaches the remnants of violence.

This is probably closer than it should be…
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Fitz surveys the scene, searching for Bee and finding no sign of her. Fleeter’s sudden fatigue reaches Fitz through the Wit, and though he sees to her, he still hardens himself as the assassin he had been trained to be, reflecting on the quiet work he did for Shrewd. Fitz skulks through the terrain, considering implications of the evidence that presents itself to his senses, and he finds the results of the fracas that had broken out between the Servants and the Chalcedeans.

Fitz also finds there are survivors, and he watches for a time before advancing with fatal intent. Seeing the spoils of his own home on display, he questions one of them, Ellik, and secures his person before settling in to extract information. It is forthcoming, and it details how the Chalcedeans were hired and brought into the Six Duchies to effect the raid on Withywoods. It also details the lead-up to the violence that had erupted, and the escape Dwalia and Vindeliar had achieved. It does not report on Bee and Shine.

Securing Ellik, Fitz moves to confront another Chalcedean. He is not more merciful with him, and what he learns confirms what Ellik told him. And then he is beset by Ellik, melee ensuing until interrupted by the onrush of fleeing Chalcedeans and Six Duchies soldiers in pursuit. Perseverance is among them, and his untrained efforts save Fitz from death at Ellik’s hand. The general melee is soon concluded, and Fitz commands a search be organized in haste.

The mention of the shrine early in the present chapter brings to mind some work I have done explicating how Hobb works with concepts of medieval religion in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus. (The short answer is “not a whole lot, but not not at all.” The actual answer is more complex, as the paper bears out.) I am a bit embarrassed to admit that I had missed in the paper the mention of the shrine in the present chapter, as well as its description: “The goddess slumbered under a mantle of white snow, her hands open on her lap. Someone had brushed her hands clean and filled them with millet. Small birds perched on her fingers and thumbs” (474). I’m sure there is something to trace out in the description–there’s enough medievalist resonances in the Disney princesses the shrine’s description evoke that something could be plumbed–but I think it would not be something to stand on its own. Perhaps if I were to rework the conference paper into a longer piece…but that’s just another scholarly someday for me.

I note that Hobb returns again to the theme of torture that pervades her work–and not only her Elderlings corpus, as this rereading series will hopefully address at some point; it factors into the Soldier Son series, as well as some of the out-of-series works such as are in the Warriors anthology edited by Martin and Dozois. A quick glance at available scholarship–which reminds me that I need to do more to update the Fedwren Project–suggests that there is some attention being paid to the topic, which I am glad to see (even as I am somewhat jealous that I’m not the person doing the work). I’m not seeing an extended, systematic study, however, although I will concede that that might be simply a matter of my not having / taking the time to look more closely through the available scholarship at this point. I think I have already noted that such a project is among my many scholarly somedays; I should do so if I haven’t already. Perhaps, as things slow down a bit for me in my “real” life and in the more formal scholarly work that I am, somehow, still doing, I will have time to attend to some of them.

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So What If It’s another #Poem Written in an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo?

They gave me back the words I had sent to them,
Put their pens to my pen’s work
And written that they thought that they were good,
But
If some things could be changed,
They would be better yet,
And I thought for a little while before
I decided they were right

They’re not always out to get you, you know…
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Another Consideration of an Old Adage, Written as Part of an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo

They said something about
Both hands and a flashlight, but
I’m still not sure what it is I’m looking for, and
If I don’t even know that,
How can I hope such tools will help?

Maybe I need one of these?
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Is the War Still Ongoing? (Another #Poem for an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo)

A third of the way along, and
I have to wonder when the ceasefire will end
Or if it has already ended and
I have frown so accustomed to the voices
Of Smith and Wesson, of Ruger, and of Sig
That I no longer hear them as
They call to one another from afar,
Shouting out their responses to the
Putative Prince of Peace, in Whose Name
They stand forth proudly and
Spew their innards all around,
Leaving messes for others to clean because
They are, after all, only tools

This is what I’m talking about, of course.
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A #Poem with a Brief Reference to a Little Golden Book, Written in an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo

Now less than seven days remain,
And I continue to take pain
To my string of poems maintain
For less than one more week.

Thinking…
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The exercise has done me good;
I had expected that it would,
The engine, knowing that I could–
But I should be more meek.

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Hymn against the Stupid God 233, A #Sonnet Offered amid an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo

The leopards lick their fangs in new delight
As gath’ring clouds choke out the fading light,
And we, bare monkeys, shiver in the night.
Who knew that orange shines so in their eyes,
Them serves as spice? There should be no surprise
On faces facing fountains spewing lies
That they are wet, made moist that they might feast,
Those spotted cats. No warnings yet have ceased
That such would be the fate brought by such beasts,
But though the klaxon sounded across years,
And though full many voiced aloud their fears,
No sound of thinking reached between the ears
Of those who shiver now and seek to cling
To falling trees as leopards ruin bring.

Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…
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Another #Poem Written of a Morning during an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo

I am remembering my dreams again–
Sleep-borne shadows of the world,
Not grand ambitions for how my life could go.
Those are long since gone away,
Others’ wills having worked in the world,
Mine never having been so strong,
No more true than the slumbering seemings
I have remembered more in these past days
Than for years that have pissed themselves away,
And I have to think that I was more at ease
When sleep was a blank
Than I am when it tries to show me something
I do not want to see.

Why not?
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A #Poem Written on the Treadmill at the Gym during an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo

I am aware of how
My world is shrinking, how
The walls between which l
I run my daily course
Grow higher
Not because more bricks have mounted them, but
Because I have been sinking deeper into ruts
Carved by my staying on my single path, and
Strong as legs may be that drag me sullenly forward,
Plow tilling a sterile furrow,
I ain’t got shit for upper body strength

It’s not paramount in my mind, no…
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A Robin Hobb Rereading Series, Entry 446: Fool’s Quest, Chapter 24

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

This chapter contains sexual violence.


After an excerpt from Bee’s dream journal, “Parting Ways” begins with Bee musing on changes among her abductors in the wake of Vindeliar’s suborning. The Chalcedeans’ ingratiation with Vindeliar is tracked as they test his abilities and begin to exploit them for themselves, and the threat under which Bee and the others operate with Dwalia out of power is made clear. Within Bee, the echo of Nighteyes she carries urges caution and calm, and she observes as the Chalcedeans fall once again into depravity. Dwalia attempts to redeem her people, but the Chalcedeans refuse, and amid the ensuing fracas, Bee and Shun attempt escape.

Image from Google Earth and tangentially related…

The present chapter is another relatively brief one, some ten pages in the edition of the novel I am reading, and I once again think I need to see about looking at a cohesive printing of the Elderlings corpus to see if there is, in fact, some pattern at work. I know I keep mentioning it, and there is a part of me that longs to simply spend the money on it…but I think it might be better either to visit a library or make an arrangement with a bookstore to so such a thing than to buy another sixteen novels that I already own. As it is, I have multiple copies of some of the works, and there’s at least one other that I’d like to buy, correcting a mistake I had the opportunity not to make. I am not so well funded as I might like (although, if you’d like to help, there’s a link below you can use for that purpose), so I would have to do some working-around to make that kind of thing happen.

As far as the content of the present chapter goes, though, I do not know that I can say much. If there is, as I have suggested might be the case, some reference going on to a real-world Odessa, I am not sure what to make of it at this point. It cannot be a pleasant one, given what befalls the thus-named character in the text, and I do not feel at ease explicating the violence being worked out upon her, even if it is somewhat “off-screen,” noted as occurring but not explicitly depicted. Hobb does not shy away from overt presentations of violence elsewhere in her work, as I well know, and she has been direct in presenting sexual violence elsewhere in the Elderlings corpus; Kennit’s violation of Althea comes to mind as one example, but it is not the only one. So I am uncertain what the import of the specific presentation of violence here is, although I expect there has to be one. As others have pointed out with great eloquence, and as I recall telling my students in those receding days when I had them, every word on the page is placed deliberately, and it is placed with the knowledge and consent of several people by the very nature of publishing. Something is at work, even if I and others cannot necessarily say what it is at any given moment…

More scholarly somedays, I suppose.

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A #Poem that Leaves Joking Aside in an Ongoing Attempt at #NaPoWriMo

They beckon to me
The harbor and the shore
Saying I should see them once again
If in another guise than I knew them before
Once not seldom visitor
Greeting them gladly under bright skies
And I know I should answer
Say my yes and go to them
Sink into their willing salt wetness
But my heart might as well be that bird
Not the pheasant but the other one
For I have worked to build the walls and shut the door
And I no longer know that I can see in strong light

Something like this, I’m sure.
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