A Robin Hobb Rereading Series, Entry 431: Fool’s Quest, Chapter 9

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series
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After a report from Jek about Kelsingra and its reoccupation, “The Crown” begins with Fitz returning belatedly to his quarters, tired from the night’s events. He rests uneasily until awakened by Ash effecting entry into his rooms. Fitz challenges the boy, who delivers breakfast and letters for the renewed FitzChivalry Farseer, and the two talk together briefly before Ash notes small injuries on Fitz’s back. Fitz is surprised by them, himself, but he deflects attention by asking after Ash’s background, learning that the boy was the child of a prostitute and slotting more of Chade’s machinations into place in his mind.

She said the word!
Once again, Frozen History by MeetV on DeviantArthere, used again for commentary.

Dismissing Ash, Fitz turns to the correspondences that have begun to come in for him, considering them and the ways in which his new status will affect Bee. He is distracted from his ruminations by the arrival of the crow that has insinuated herself into his life, giving rise to a rumination on the Wit and its limits. The bird harangues him for a bit as he wistfully considers changes in the area surrounding Buckkeep, and Fitz attempts to mask the physical differences that separate the crow from her fellows.

So much done, Fitz ascends to Chade’s hidden chambers to confer with the Fool. The latter notes that he is beginning to recover some semblance of sight, and Fitz guardedly congratulates him. The pair then confer about Fitz’s re-elevation, about which not all are pleased, and the Fool notes to Fitz a package Chade had left for him. Within is a sealed message from Verity, dating to his departure to Kelsingra and naming Fitz to his line of succession; a crown accompanies it. Despite his concerns, the Fool places it on Fitz’s head, and the two confer about injuries and Skill-healing. Fitz investigates the Fool, finding himself in mind of his own mistreatment by Galen, and both end up fatigued by the experience. The crow–deemed Motley by the Fool–returns as they continue to talk and makes herself part of their circle.

The present chapter does make a number of references to in-milieu past events, even more than I link herein, glossing them neatly and generally well. It is a good piece of world-building on display and a useful reminder that the present volume is one in a long series. (And what a relief it is to read an author who actually gets books into print!) I could wish I had taken more detailed notes, or more searchable ones, but that is an issue with me and not with the text.

I find some interest in some of the comments regarding those who are not pleased at the return of FitzChivalry Farseer. One, in particular, stands out, that made by the grandson of a soldier who had helped Regal capture Fitz: “My grandfather died thinking he had sent you to your death. To the end of his days, Blade believed he had betrayed you. He, I think, you might have trusted” (162). Again, I appreciate the work to connect the present text back to the earlier volumes in the series; I know–oh, I know–that there is a lot of material in the Elderlings corpus, and keeping track of all of it is not necessarily an easy thing to do. Again, I could wish I had taken more detailed notes, or more searchable ones, than I have done these past years. (It’s strange to think it’ll be six years this May that I’ll’ve been working through this rereading series–and there’s more to do!) But in any event, while some might be displeased to see FitzChivalry return for superstitious reasons (as noted previously), and others might be displeased because the reappearance of an acknowledged Farseer–with an earned reputation as a more-than-capable killer–and possible heir presents substantial disruption to any number of political intrigues that might be in place, the indication that there are entirely justifiable, personal angers to be directed at Fitz does some good work in continuing to humanize the character. Shades of steel-grey would appear to show, indeed, and I find myself thinking yet again of a scholarly someday that might be worth pursuing. Too, the small-scale slice-of-life things Hobb includes do much to make the milieu more “real” for the reader, with effects I think I’ve noted before.

So, yeah, it’s a good chapter.

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Fading Celebrations

I struggle to shrug off the sloth of past weeks,
How the holidays heaped upon me,
Weighted with wonder at a world seeking joy.

Tis the season.
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A tree is yet trimmed, its trinkets retaining
Though lights have been lost that lingered through years,
Glimmers now gone, their gifts now bestowed.

Work now awaits, the world resuming,
And where it is winter, the weather declines,
Giving out gray and stifling glee.

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On the New Year 2025

Once again, as at this time last year, I sit to write with a steaming cup of coffee on the desk in front of me, looking ahead to another twelvemonth. At this time last year, I was looking at the opening of a new office, a shift in my main line of work and a continuation of my sideline work (of which this is part), and I’m pleased to report that things went relatively well with it. The office is still there, still going, and I’m still running it–with a bit more staff this time around. Too, some of my clients from the last pass have already started coming back to me, which tells me I did a decent job of it. There’s pleasure in that, to be sure. I’d be happy to have more business, of course, but I’m glad of what I’ve gotten so far and appreciate the clients who come in and come back.

Let’s make it a blast, eh?
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Work at the office is not all of what I have going on, of course. There’re a few freelance pieces already queued up for me, monthly projects that should carry me into the second quarter of the year. I’ve got a couple of scholarly projects to address, as well, and in more earnest than I’ve approached them so far (which is my failure entirely; I’ve had time to work on them and haven’t done so nearly to the extent that they’ve deserved). I’m also working to submit poetry and other writing to contests and for publication. And in more personal endeavors–about which I might well write in this webspace–not only will I be pressing ahead with my Robin Hobb reread, I’m also helping to administer a fairly large play-by-post roleplaying game, with others in the offering for the year. So I’ll be busy, but I think it’ll be a good kind of busy.

As before, I mean to continue offering my writing and support services. I’m remain happy to take commissions for written-to-order pieces that do not use the persistent theft and all-too-common hallucinations and falsifications involved in AI-generated work, creating unique texts to meet your needs. Poetry, essays, memoirs, works of fiction, ad copy, press releases, business and technical documentation–I’m happy to work with you on any or all of them to help you craft the best possible work. Reader-review and copy-editing are also available, as always, as is support for writing instruction.

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A Robin Hobb Rereading Series, Entry 430: Fool’s Quest, Chapter 8

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


Following an excerpt from lyrics by Starling Birdsong, “Farseers” begins with Fitz returning to his chambers and hurriedly changing in response to the urgent summons he had received. So much done, he rushes to answer the summons, Skilling to Chade to inform him of yet another cover identity, and entering into the midst of celebration. Fitz attends to his surroundings, noting major players (including Dutiful and Elliania) and their conduct as he makes his way through the throng.

A prominent character once again…
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Fitz’s progress is halted by the beginnings of an announcement by Elliania which notes first that Nettle is a Farseer and second that she is pregnant. Fitz marks the reactions of those concerned, and he considers likely regard for the news thus delivered. Kettricken then summons a minstrel to recount Fitz’s deeds along the trip to assist Verity, which summons Starling Birdsong answers in full glory. Even Fitz, who is somewhat chagrined at hearing himself lauded in song, is singularly impressed at her work. He is less impressed at being hustled forward by Chade, where Dutiful improvises a likely story to explain his appearance and absence, and Fitz faces the gathered crowd.

The prefatory materials to the present chapter, Starling’s lyrics detailing one of the more prominent early events in Fitz’s public career, are the third such piece in the current volume; one of Hap Gladheart’s songs and the propaganda by Farrow minstrel Celsu Cleverhands both appear earlier in the text. Some explication of Hap’s lyrics has already been given; consideration of Celsu’s might well be undertaken (if perhaps not here), as might some of Starling’s own work. (Yes, I am aware that all three characters and “their work” are the inventions of the author, Hobb, herself an adopted authorial persona of the author, about which construction some comments are here. I know I have a tendency to talk about characters as if they are people; I have noted more than once that I read overly affectively. But, as I think I have also noted before, the fact of my affective reading is part of what motivates my studies to begin with; I’d not’ve spent the time and effort on this hadn’t I emotional investment in the work.) I think it’ll add to my scholarly somedays, honestly, unless I find that someone’s already done the work first to explicate the selections more thoroughly and second to read them against one another.

In any event, however, there is something to be said about the inclusion of another bit of verse at the head of the chapter. It’s not the first time Hobb does so, of course, not even within the present volume. But it does seem marked as a more common occurrence in the present volume than in previous volumes in the Elderlings corpus; three, and within four chapters, is a lot for this kind of thing. I’m sure there is some significance to be found in it; perhaps it speaks to the author’s readings during and soon before composition of the present text (although I am wary of biographical criticism for reasons I believe I’ve articulated), perhaps it serves to highlight differing social constructions across the component fiefs of the Six Duchies, perhaps it does something else, but even if I am uncertain what that else is, I am sure it’s there. So that might be yet another scholarly someday for me; I seem to collect them.

And there’s another, perhaps clearer, such scholarly someday for me in the present chapter. Some years ago, now, I wrote a master’s thesis that examines Hobb’s use of Arthurian tropes in the characters of the Farseer and Tawny Man trilogies. I’ve moved on from some of the ideas I voice in that text, at least partly; for example, I don’t think the Six Duchies are a recapitulation of Britain / England, at least not primarily (although, as I look at the text again, I note that even in it, I point out deviations from the “source” materials, even if I hadn’t yet realized where they came from). But some of the things I have in the thesis still seem true; “Chade is very much like Arthurian Merlin” (29) is one of them, and the idea that Chivalry and Verity Farseer are Arthurian-esque heroes (38) is another. So is young Fitz’s similarity to Gawain (39-51). And the overall concept is reinforced in Fitz’s return to public life in the Six Duchies; the presentation of him Dutiful makes to his assembled court is very much in the model of rex quondam rexque futurus who, per Malory, “shal come ageyn” from having gone “by the wylle of our lord Ihesu in to another place,” the which is often understood to be the enchanted isle of Avalon (note here and here, XI.2). If I might add to my collection, I think another revisit to an older project–along the lines of this piece–might well be in order.

Someday.

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Still Another Rumination on a Birthday Not Mine

As happens from time to time, my regular posting in this webspace coincides with the birthday of a loved one. This time around, it’s that of my surviving grandmother, a lifelong Iowan currently living in Cedar Rapids; prior to moving there, she had lived for decades in Tama. I believe her birthday present made it to her–I sent it off in time for it to do so, at least, though I haven’t received delivery confirmation quite yet–and I’ve no doubt that I’ll be talking to her again soon. (I last did so on Christmas Eve, when we exchanged holiday greetings, and I’ve been writing her in response to her cards and notes, keeping her apprised of how her family in my part of the world is doing. I am trying to be a good grandson, even if the effort is later than it perhaps ought to have been; I have noted before the kind of person I used to be.)

Seems appropriate
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It’s not my grandmother’s first birthday, of course, not by a wide margin. It could hardly be so and she be my grandmother, after all. Nor yet is it the first on which I’ve sent her gifts or called or written or some combination of the three. So it’s not the first time I’ve thought about it, or considered the differences in family positioning between my parents’ families, or between my wife’s and mine.

On the side of the family in question–my dad’s, for ease of reference–I’m the older of two children, the eldest of six grandchildren, and the eldest of a number of great grandchildren I do not remember if I ever knew it. (Dad’s family is mostly in Iowa, and I never have lived in that state; the lifelong distance means some things that would have been “normal” for me to know are outside my knowledge.) My daughter is my only child (that I know about–and I doubt that any precede her, or I’d expect I’d’ve heard something about them by this point); my brother’s son is likely to be his only one, and there’re a couple of cousin’s kids in there–but my girl’s the first out of her generation of Dad’s family. For Mom’s…not so much; I’m the third from last grandkid, and my late maternal grandmother was the second to last of ten born. (If memory serves, some of her elder sisters were mothers before she was born. If.) And I’m younger than my wife, who was herself the second child of her parents–and her father was not the oldest of his parents’ kids, either.

It happens, then, that I am forty-two years old and with a child of my own, and I still have a living grandparent, even if I don’t see her often and my daughter has seen her surviving great grandmother maybe twice or thrice in her life (and one of those was in her early infancy, so there’s no way she remembers it, though there are pictures). I don’t think Dad had his grandparents quite that late (I’d have to look at records and do math); I know Mom did not, and I know my wife does not. Nor do I think that many others my age do; some, sure, but not a great many.

As such, I make sure that I mark my grandmother’s birthday. It’s an unusual thing to have gotten to keep so long, as I well know, and I am not unmindful of the gift I have been given in having her be part of my life for so long.

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A Bit about Another Day’s Observance

This isn’t the first time I’ve had a post to this webspace go live on this calendar date, to be sure. (I looked to be sure.) Nor yet was that the first time I’ve written about the day’s holiday; I’ve been a reasonably avid blogger for a while, now, even as it’s more than a little passé that I would be one, and holidays do tend to invite reflection and introspection such as prompt writing. So much I’ve shown, and so much’ve others shown, across not only the years in which blogging has been a thing, but across much of written record. To such a thing I turn again.

Yep. That’s it.
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I have a somewhat fraught relationship with holidays. Cheer, such as is often demanded, does not come easily to me, nor does it linger long. To my recollection, it never has done either, although I will admit that my memory has limits, seemingly more with each day. (That’s a concern, but one I’ll address another time…if I can remember to do it.) I do and have done better with quiet and thought, with looking on from the edges of things, rather than being in the middle of them and loudly reveling. It makes me a terribly fun person, I know, but I don’t think I’ve often been sought out for fun.

Each year, though, I work to be a little…happier with events, to be a little more present with the people I love. Each year, I think it works a little better. Each year, I try to shut my mouth just a little bit longer, to stifle my misgivings. Each year, I do a little more that might be thought “normal” for a holiday, participate in one more thing that I mightn’t’ve done in a previous year. Each year, I get out a little bit more, spend one more night out and among events being hosted. Each year, I do one more thing to try to create a situation where the people I care about can be happy more easily.

Each year, I don’t do enough. This year’s not different from any other in that regard. But I do what I can, and not only on or about the holiday.

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A Robin Hobb Rereading Series, Entry 429: Fool’s Quest, Chapter 7

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


After a piece of propaganda celebrating Fitz’s death and Regal’s accession, “Secrets and a Crow” opens with Fitz, disguised as Feldspar, returning to his chambers and planning the events to follow. Riddle greets him there and receives an unexpected apology before delivering the news that Nettle is pregnant and that they are wedded by custom and against Dutiful’s wishes. Fitz’s mind races over political implications, and Riddle adds to the complexities thereof by reporting that Patience can be regarded as a descendant of the Farseers, not only as a widow of them. Fitz offers his commendations, and then Riddle returns to the matter of Bee, which leaves Fitz uncomfortable. After Riddle takes his leave, Fitz responds to Nettle’s Skill-sending, the two conferring through the magic briefly and sharply. Fitz is left to consider once again the wisdom of his choices, and he arrives at a decision.

Not the tastiest meal…
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Fitz rejoins the Fool and receives a message left for him. They confer about the Fool’s situation, and Fitz reads the message, which is from Chade and bids him attend the final Winterfest feast in his guise as Feldspar. Meanwhile, the Fool waxes despondent about the situation in Clerres and the depredations of the Servants, and he weeps at what he has suffered. Fitz offers what comfort he can, which he knows is not much, and he glosses the message from Chade to the Fool. Fitz also considers what his loved ones have given up for him across the years and his purposes moving ahead.

Leaving the Fool, Fitz goes about his errands as Feldspar. While about them, he notes the cawing of a crow, calling out for Tom. It is, in the event, the crow of which Web had spoken, and, as Fitz goes about his errands, it makes a show of itself and its ability to speak the name “FitzChivalry,” which occasions upset among onlookers. Fitz manages to turn the situation, taking the crow with him as he hurls imprecations and abuses that afford him an escape. The pair return to Buckkeep to find festivities in progress, and he hastens to attend to the bird as he frets about meeting his many other obligations. But, returning to the Fool, Fitz and the crow find aid, and once the bird is freed from its entanglements, Fitz Skills to Chade, only to be summoned with some urgency. Fitz hastens to answer the summons, leaving the bird with the Fool, who approves of her.

The present chapter once again points out the odd gender-blindness at work between Fitz and the Fool regarding the putative unexpected son of the former. Again, the Fool moves fluidly among gender expressions and makes much of the fact that Fitz (and others) make much of the reproductive equipment other people possess; for the Fool to remain so adamant in the idea that the son is a son seems…out of keeping with the usual insightfulness the character displays. Perhaps it is a reinforcement of the idea that everybody has areas in which they falter, a bit of the verisimilitude that Hobb is often at pains to include in her work. Perhaps it is the Fool’s response, or part of it, to the trauma that has clearly been endured. (I am minded that Hobb’s work does go in for torture at more than one point, and not only in the Elderlings novels; another scholarly someday seems to be at work.) But it still seems…odd to me as I read.

The present chapter also does some…interesting things with symbolism as surrounds the crow. One implication, and something that the text supports, is that the crow is an ill omen. By calling out Fitz’s true name, the crow occasions recollections of the kind of propaganda excerpted in the preliminary material of the chapter, something made fairly explicit in popular response to the crow’s call; among the comments are folk-legend-esque remarks about the beast-form that the Witted Bastard had adopted and the evils associated with him. Fitz is not ignorant of the danger such things represent to him–and, by extension, to his avowedly Witted King, Dutiful. But, as I’ve noted more than once, the set of symbols that occasion such functions are not necessarily the best applied to Fitz and to the Realm of the Elderlings, more generally. For one, even within a Northern- and Western-European-medieval background basis for the Six Duchies, Fitz’s symbolism is…complicated; adding the crow to the wolf with which he was already long associated begins to shade him towards Odin, and while that may not be the happiest set of associations for a great many, it is not an ignoble one, as such. More emphatically, given the decidedly non-European-based ways in which much of the Realm of the Elderlings can be read (and no, I am not going to avoid pointing it out when the opportunity presents itself, nor put off looking for such opportunities), I have to think that other resonances are more at work, or are also at work in ways that make the doom-imagery not the only or best way to read the presence of the crow in the text.

But, as with so much else in the Fitz-centric novels, foreshadowing is a thing.

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Current Events

Once again
I dip into the flow
Feel the currents ripping past me
Carrying me along
And while I think I know where the flow is going
There is still fear in
Being dragged under
I have found the rocks too many times
Not yet worn away by the years
And perhaps not smoothed by them, either
Jagged edges and solid things
Have left me cut and bruised more than once
But I still go back in again

It’s a metaphor, see?
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Something Written in Some Haste

The poems have started to come to me again
Passing by in review where I sit in what might have been thought a grandstand
Because I have made much of myself here and often
Saluting with swords raised as they cross my sight
A drum major swinging the mace up and down before
The band beats out its cadence and the horns blare
And I marvel at their shining uniforms
Ribbons and buttons gleaming in the light
Streaming down from above
Before I hunch in again and
Get back to what else I was doing

Apropos.
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A Robin Hobb Rereading Series, Entry 428: Fool’s Quest, Chapter 6

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


Following an in-milieu historical work reporting the end of the Red Ships War and the reaffirmation of the Farseer dynasty, “The Witted” begins with Fitz taking stock of his situation and finding himself annoyed that time has passed while he has been otherwise engaged. He hastens to ready himself for an audience with Kettricken, to which he reports and waits for a time before being admitted thereto.

A relevant image, I think…
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Once she admits Fitz to her presence, Kettricken dismisses her attendants and drops pretense with Fitz, laying out her intentions for Bee and asking after the Fool. She weeps at Fitz’s answers regarding the latter, although he makes a wry comment at her reference to a question Starling had posed years ago.

Further conversation in that line is interrupted by the arrival of Witmaster Web. Talk at that point turns to the magic the three of them share, of Web’s new bond and Kettricken’s purpose to form a Wit-bond of her own. Continued political difficulties associated with the Wit are noted, and Fitz is urges to consider taking on as a companion an oddly colored crow. Web lays out the crow’s situation to Fitz and then returns conversation to Bee. Fitz then turns conversation to the princes, Prosper and Integrity, who evidently have the Skill in some measure. Plans are made for the coming days, and Fitz excuses himself.

A couple of points present themselves for discussion regarding the present chapter. One of them is the subject, again, of gender fluidity. Others, of course, speak to the presentation of gender fluidity in Hobb more eloquently and at greater length than I can afford here; Katavić, Melville, Mohon, Prater, Räsänen, Sanderson, and Schouwenaars, whose works are glossed in the Fedwren Project, all do so, and I’m sure there’re others of which I’m not yet aware. The subject of the Fool’s “son” and the part the Fool played in giving rise thereto receives (more) comment in the present chapter, and I find myself a bit…uncomfortable at the movement toward gender essentialism at work in the commentary. But I am also minded that 1) cultural differences obtain and 2) as part of that, with Kettricken having been intimately involved in issues of dynastic succession, her focus on such matters has some embeddedness to it. (And, yes, I know: “it’s just a book.” But if it’s okay for people to spend thousands of dollars to go to stadia and paint themselves in colors of schools they never attended, it’s okay for me to be nerdy about a book that cost far less than that.)

The other, related, is the resurgence of the notion of the Wit as a metaphor for homosexuality. I’ve commented, referencing others, before (here and here, for examples), and I remain of the opinion that having a metaphor for something that is actually in evidence is…a stretch. But as I reread, I wonder if the issue is less that the Wit is a metaphor for homosexuality (in the United States; primary expected readership remains a factor to consider) than that the regard in which it is held is a metaphor for the regard in which same-sex relationships–and queerness, generally–are held among the anticipated primary readership. I am likely late in arriving at the idea; I acknowledge that my attentions have generally been on other matters, both as regards my reading of Hobb and more generally. Given that I would have an outside perspective on the matter, I do not think adding to work investigating that part of the text will be one of my scholarly somedays, but it is still something worth considering, I think, if for no other reason than that those scholars of whose works I am aware wrote before the Fitz and the Fool trilogy was out. After all, I clearly think works can be revisited and extended when new primary materials become available, and I’m not so arrogant as to think I’m the only one who ought to do so.

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