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The next chapter, titled “Refitting,” begins with the Paragon commenting about being beached again, Amber offering some comfort and consolation as Brashen dourly stalks the decks and directs repairs, the progress of which is described. Recent events are rehearsed, as is the ship’s strained attitude and internal conflict. The two of them discuss trust and secrets as Amber investigates the figurehead, and the ship relates plainly what liveships are and why the Paragon is as shown. The ship asks Amber to carve a new face for the figurehead, and Amber learns–and reports–that Althea yet lives.
Something like this, perhaps? Image is by i_am_jim, here, and under a CC BY-SA 3.0 license, used for commentary
Brashen rushes to the figurehead and rebukes Amber for working despite her injuries, which are rehearsed. He receives the report of Althea’s survival and begins to find joy again, which starts to spread through the crew. They begin to plan how to retrieve her from Kennit, and the Paragon offers to take them to Kennit’s secret stronghold.
Readers of the Elderlings novels will realize the import of Amber’s conversation with the Paragon in the first section of the chapter, something attested to by no few of the sources noted in the Fedwren Project. There had, of course, been earlier hints, but the present chapter all but states that Amber was the Fool in the Six Duchies, and it points meaningfully towards later Elderlings novels; the character has clearly developed since originally appearing.
The chapter is a brief one, a volta of sorts for the novel. I am not certain it is a Freytag-style climax, but it certainly marks a turning point, perhaps more powerfully for its brevity. But it is not the only such point to come, either…
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The succeeding chapter, “Trader for the Vestrit Family,” begins with Keffria cleaning out the bedchamber she had shared with her husband; in the tumult that beset Bingtown, it was despoiled, and her efforts leave it “Empty, clean, and somewhat cold.” She considers it a reflection of her life as Ronica enters and asks after Selden; Keffria notes that he is packing to relocate to the Rain Wilds and that she is letting him do so because she has nothing better to offer him in Bingtown. Their own financial situation and the current status of negotiations to set up the new Bingtown government and division of land and materials are glossed. So are their hopes that Althea will return home; Keffria presses her mother about her husband, and the two women discuss Keffria’s twinned dislike for having to manage her own affairs and pride in doing so well until Rache arrives to indicate, with some displeasure, that Jani Khuprus has arrived to take Selden.
Jani muses on the status of the Vestrit home as she awaits the inhabitants. As they join her, she notes her hopes for Selden and their towns before laying out two offers. One, her personal offer as she formally accepts stewardship of Selden in honor of the agreement between the Vestrit and Khuprus families, is to host the Vestrits in her own home. The second, on behalf of the Rain Wild Traders, contradicts it, obliging Keffria to remain in Bingtown as the official representative of the Rain Wild Traders. She demurs, but Selden seeks to persuade her to accept, noting the other Elderling cities along the Rain Wild River that await rediscovery and the prospects of an ennobling interchange between human and dragon. And an agreement is struck among them.
The present chapter expands from the ideas of the previous in offering possibilities. There are legal avenues open to Keffria at this point in the narrative that would allow her substantial agency, and though she does not find any of them entirely satisfactory, she reaches an arrangement that brings her some contentment; she is the controller of her own affairs, but she only arrives at that point by giving up control of others’ dealings and doings. And that, as with her daughter far away, is surely instructive.
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A chapter titled “Flights” follows and opens with Reyn startling awake in Tintaglia’s clutches as the dragon seeks a place to land safely. He reviews their progress together, and he comes to reconsider the dragon as she shares her situation with him, and as the dragon heads off, Reyn tries to hunt some of the sea bullocks to aid her. The gesture confuses the returning dragon, but it also seems to mollify Tintaglia, and they confer about their expectations of the others’ species as their time together continues. Reyn is left uncertain of his feelings and of the price he and the rest of humanity will pay for the agreement he has made.
Something like this comes to mind. Image originally from Joel Garlich-Miller for the US Fish & Wildlife Service, thus public domain.
Aboard the pirate ship Motley, Malta tries briefly to comfort the Satrap, but his whining sours her on the project swiftly. She moves to join the ship’s captain, Red, at mess, and the conviviality of his table is noted as he asks after the Satrap; Malta attempts to demur without success, and Red lays out the situation with the Satrap plainly: he will be taken to Kennit, who will ransom the Satrap to the highest bidder. Red also propositions Malta, and she considers how she might avail herself of standing as his mistress to effect her father’s rescue. She refuses, and he accepts the refusal–though he also notes that she would be better off joining him and his crew than holding onto her earlier desires before releasing her to get information from the Satrap.
Though the chapter is a brief one, it does much to present possibilities–and not only for Reyn and Malta, on whom the narrative action focuses. Reyn’s conversations with Tintaglia reaffirm that the two species, human and dragon, can learn from one another and can find some accord, although they also reaffirm that there are fundamental differences between the two not likely ever to be bridged. Again, I know I ought not to read for parallels to present circumstances, but I also cannot help but see them; I cannot help but think there is some kind of comment being made about one or another of the many, many divisions within humanity in the readers’ world as Hobb depicts the separation between species in her narrative one. And Malta’s conversations with Red speak to a certain relaxation of social mores that even she entertains–if only briefly, and if only to reject them. But her rejection is less on the grounds of adhering to the mores than upon pursuing her own goals, which is surely instructive…
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The next chapter, “Family Reunions,” opens with a confused Wintrow accompanying Etta aboard the Marietta, the two conferring about their removal from the Vivacia and Wintrow trying to puzzle out his purpose and the reasons for recent events. She notes her pregnancy to him, and they continue to converse awkwardly, and he advises her to hold the news from Kennit for a time.
Something like this, perhaps? Image is Burning of the Frigate Philadelphia in the Harbor of Tripoli, February 16, 1804, on the US Navy’s website, which I believe makes it public domain; it is used for commentary here.
The Paragon withdraws inside himself as fire burns upon him. The ship is aware of the crew below deck, including Amber. The ship is also aware of serpents outside, in the waves, that press for the reawakening of the dragon memories within–and that the ship tries to reject.
Althea comes to aboard the Vivacia and takes stock of her situation. She reaches out to the ship and is rebuffed decisively and angrily; Kennit enters and cautions her against repeating the attempt, noting its sources. Althea asks about her crewmates and receives answers along with a spiced wine concoction; she is soon soundly intoxicated and lapses into unconsciousness. Kennit regards her avariciously, and the wizardwood charm on his wrist rebukes him sharply for his intentions.
Aboard the Paragon, Amber pleads for her own life and those of the crew. The personalities of the dragons within the ship reassert themselves forcefully, and Amber strives towards communion with them; the personality of the ship pleads for survival and is told to join or die. Realization of what she must do breaks upon her, and the dragons agree to share the body of the ship; Amber calls out raggedly to Clef, sending the boy to where Brashen commands a work crew with a message to try a hatch she had cut in the floor of the captain’s cabin while she dwelt aboard the beached ship earlier. Brashen redirects efforts to that end, reaching more of his crew and preparing to abandon ship. But the ship decides to live and closes the seams that had been allowed to spring open, the dragon-personalities deciding as Clef indicates.
Etta and Wintrow return to the Vivacia, finding Kennit angry at their return. He rebukes them and issues orders regarding Althea and Jek, and they accede to his manipulations as the ship sets out for Divvytown.
The issue of the mixed-plank construction of the Paragon comes up again in the present chapter, as does that of the torturous existence of dragon-personalities “beneath” the awakened liveships’. Certainly, the experience of integrating different personalities in the Paragon is an unpleasant experience for all involved, and it becomes easy to feel for the ship in the chapter; really, there seems there was never any chance for happiness for the vessel, even aside from the problems inherent in the origin of liveships, generally. This is not to discount the systemic problems of generational exploitation of genocide–because that is what happened, here. It is, though, to note that the Paragon was almost set up to directly experience failure and torment, not only from the oddity of construction, but also from being forced to bear witness to the traumas it saw early in life. And taking on Kennit’s burdens, as well…in many ways, Hobb is a sadist towards her characters. Authors must be so, of course; there is no story without conflict, and conflict necessarily inflicts upon those who undergo it. Text
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The following chapter, “Paragon of the Ludlucks,” starts with Althea aloft aboard the Paragon, sighting the Vivacia. She reports the finding to Brashen, and the two confer about their plans before they make ready to confront Kennit–hopefully to talk and to reclaim the Vestrit family ship, but possibly to fight.
The proprieties at all times? Image taken from Tenor.com, here, used for commentary.
Aboard the Vivacia, Kennit receives a report of the Paragon‘s sighting that he does not seem to need. How he knows the ship is the Paragon confounds him, and the wizardwood charm at his wrist speaks ominously before Kennit orders a wary approach to the oncoming vessel, privately purposing to sink the Paragon for the liveship’s knowledge of his past. He joins Etta and Wintrow on the foredeck as the sight of the coming ship rattles him; Etta reports that Wintrow is torn, as he must be, by the situation, and Kennit orders him away with Etta as he tries to persuade Bolt. After he departs, having surprised them all with his swift insistence that his place is with Kennit, the pirate captain inquires if Bolt can have the serpents scuttle the Paragon; the ship answers in the affirmative but presses Kennit about the inquiry. She also calls in his debt to her, bidding him marshal his entire fleet to the escort of the serpents to the Rain Wilds and calling him by his full, true name–Kennit Ludluck–to bind him. He agrees once again and, after some discussion, the serpents swim off to assail the Paragon.
Brashen watches Althea and a boat crew make for the Vivacia, the time leading up to the expedition rehearsed; Amber had noted an imminence about the proceedings. Althea looks back to him and the ship before they proceed, and she is shocked by the attack of the serpents upon the liveship; she orders her crew to proceed to the Vivacia with all speed. Brashen orders his ship’s crew to brace for the attack and attempt to flee; the Paragon belays the orders and calls out to the serpents in turn, confusing them as Amber narrates what she can of events.
Shreever considers as the Paragon converses with the assembled serpents, prodding them away from Bolt. The white serpent Carrion upbraids the serpents for following orders that Bolt relays from Kennit, and She Who Remembers calls for a pause to gather more information. The call is not universally accepted, and a fracas ensues that catches the Paragon and the crew upon the ship up in it as collateral damage. Brashen orders such damage control as he can until Clef tells him that Althea’s boat has been seen to be capsized; he orders retrieval.
Kennit watches events from the Vivacia and orders an assault on the Paragon. Battle is joined and quickly won–by Kennit’s crew. Brashen surrenders to save his crew, and he is confined with them below decks as Kennit begins to tour the ship that should have been his. He finds the condition of the vessel agreeable–until the ship begins to speak to him, relating the sad story suffered long and beginning to rage as realization breaks. But the ship is persuaded to ancestral loyalty, and Kennit makes to burn what had been his family’s liveship–with the crew aboard.
Back aboard the Vivacia, Kennit is presented with the surviving boat crew–Althea and Jek. He bids them be taken aboard and has the ship set out for Divvytown–leaving Etta and Wintrow behind.
I am sure there are comments about competing masculinities that could–and perhaps should–be made, using the current chapter as explanatory material. Kennit’s seems to be toxic enough, to use a term that fits but that would not have been much employed when the novel was being written. (I say “much,” of course, because I am not as up on such discussions and their backgrounds as I perhaps ought to be; I do not know enough to say “not at all,” but I do know that the term was not part of mainstream discussion then as it often-wrongly is now.) Rather than trying to work through his trauma–and he does carry trauma, though that does not excuse his later actions–he seeks to eliminate what serves as the repository for it; rather than acknowledge and deal with his pain, he tries to deny it, the lives of others be damned. It is something that is all too common, of course–and the idea of sealing pain away is something that comes up elsewhere in the Elderlings novels; it is something of a theme in Hobb that might be worth untangling with further, careful reading…
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The ensuing chapter, “Prisoners,” begins with Jani Khuprus seeing to Reyn’s comfort as he prepares to be carried by Tintaglia once again. Dealings with the dragon are detailed, and Reyn and Selden confer briefly before Tintaglia goes aloft, bearing Reyn as he seeks Malta through the bond created by their dream-sharing some time ago and reinforced since.
This kind of thing again… Image is from the National Endowment for the Humanities EDSITEMent, here, which I think makes it public domain.
Malta wakes from a vague recollection of connecting with Reyn to survey her materially improved circumstances aboard the Chalcedean ship with the Satrap. She also rehearses the ways in which her situation has deteriorated with the reassertion of the Satrap’s power and prestige, but, after questioning her father’s regard for her, she resolves herself to continue to press her own position on the ship. The appearance of pirates disrupts the flow of her work, however, and the Satrap rejects the notion that the Chalcedeans would be overwhelmed by the advancing raiders. She begins to dress him in his demanded resplendence as the sounds of conflict reach them.
Aloft, Tintaglia shakes Reyn back into his body. They converse briefly, not without tension, and the search for Malta continues as Reyn muses over relative powers at sea.
Aboard the Chalcedean ship, the Satrap makes to assert himself to the pirates despite Malta’s attempts to dissuade him. She accompanies him above deck and finds that the pirates have taken the ship; she falters when the Satrap proclaims himself as such to the victorious pirates and sickens when she sees the carnage of the taken deck. Malta affirms his identity, though, and declares her own; the pirates, laughing in disbelief, take them and the ship into their possession.
The thought suddenly, strangely occurs to me that the Bingtowners and pirates seem to be the only people depicted in the Elderlings corpus who seem to have blue-water shipping as it is typically understood. Yes, the Out Islanders can likely make such crossings; the ships they are described as having do evoke Viking longships for Tolkienian-tradition readers (or Haida war canoes for others), and such vessels can cross open water, but the frequency of raiding and other clues suggest that the Out Islands are not so far from the Six Duchies as might otherwise be thought. The Chalcedeans are explicitly reported to use galleys, and while such ships in the readers’ world might have crossed the Mediterranean, they were more used closer to the coast than far from it. The liveships, though, and other traders’ vessels described are depicted as striking out across open ocean, though, or at least in terms like the ships of the Golden Age of Sail. Perhaps they are to be taken as “more advanced” because of the technological distinction? I am not sure, although that suggests itself as a point that could be made…
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The chapter that follows, “Strategies,” opens with Althea relocating into the first mate’s cabin aboard the Paragon, with Haff settling into the second mate’s berth, and Amber complaining bitterly about the oppressive humidity and fog. She rehearses a conversation she had had abed with Brashen the night before, noting their situation and inveighing against the former first mate. They also voice a vision of a future together, possibly despite their families’ desires and Bingtown’s disapproval. Althea sets the vision aside, turning instead to more practical matters of how to handle Kennit and attempt to reclaim the Vivacia. Pointed questions from Jek interrupt Althea’s reverie, and a tense conversation is soon diverted by laughter and consideration of how matters have fallen out in the wake of the attempted mutiny and successful desertion before Althea muses again on what they will do.
A studied, subtle insult? Image from Michelle Tofahrn, here, used for commentary.
In Bingtown, Serilla confers with Mingsley over tea, reviewing their current situation and the fallout from the work to reconstitute Bingtown’s government. The Trader is aspersive, but Serilla retains control of matters, assuming a position for herself in the negotiations outside the various factions still present in Bingtown and articulating her expectations of the nascent political order. Mingsley rails against her, but she takes his imprecations as benedictions.
Also in Bingtown, Reyn watches the Kendry return to port with a shrunken crew; Tintaglia notes to him that the Ophelia is following soon after. He muses on the changes he has had a hand in enacting in the liveships and in the Traders’ society that relies upon them for its economic heft. He notes that he should be happy, but he is not, largely because Malta remains absent. Selden retrieves him from his perch, explaining as he does some of the cognitive differences between dragons and humans. Selden also asks if he is turning into a Rain Wilder, noting some fear of drowning in memories; Reyn offers the boy reassurance as he can.
It is a brief chapter, certainly, although not as brief as some. Even so, it manages to counterpoint the previous chapter well; I note again the parallels between Malta’s work and Serilla’s, as well as the ways in which they run askew of one another (discussed here and here, among others, and with a content warning). And I note the overt consideration of unintended consequences on Reyn’s part; reintroducing a powerful species to the world after it had been driven nearly to extinction cannot but alter things. Hobb is scarcely the first author to treat such ideas, of course; Crichton is perhaps the most prominent prior example, but he is not the only one. Still, it tends to be something treated less in fantasy fiction than in science fiction, and it makes for an interesting thought experiment, in any case.
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The next chapter, “Loyalties,” opens with Kennit reviewing a letter from Sincure Faldin and musing on its contents–among others a description of the investigation by the Paragon‘s crew. The news of the Paragon rocks him, and he contemplates killing and replacing his entire crew, as well as fleeing the Pirate Isles entirely. But his attention returns to those gathered around him: Sorcor, Etta, Wintrow, and Jola, the last of whom is currently the first mate on the Vivacia. Kennit muses on his successful piracy, aided by the serpents that come at his ship’s call, per agreement. As the news received from Faldin is discussed, Wintrow makes note of one of the names mentioned in it: Brashen Trell. Kennit marks the shift in attitude from Wintrow and from the ship as Wintrow discusses his aunt, whose presence on the Paragon and in Divvytown is also marked. Ominous words are exchanged afterward.
Not as far off as might be thought… Image from Giphy.com, used for commentary.
Aboard the Chalcedean ship, Malta continues to suffer the Satrap and the crew. She muses on her situation–it is not a good one–and upon the status of her family. She also absently picks at a scar on her forehead, finding its texture rough and its extent greater than she had anticipated. As she considers matters further, Malta begins to more coldly assess her circumstances and the ways in which she can achieve and retain agency, and she begins to proceed along those lines, making for the ship’s captain. When she finally confronts him, she seems to make some progress at improving her situation and the Satrap’s, though the latter is hardly conscious of it until water for bathing and clean clothes are brought to their cabin.
In the evening, Wintrow and Kennit confer with Bolt. The ship is acerbic at the prompt to consider Althea, but agrees, along with Kennit, not to harm Althea. Wintrow pleads for more but is rebuffed and sent off to Etta. After, Kennit’s wizardwood charm speaks up openly, and it and the ship press the pirate savagely about the Paragon and his experiences with that ship.
A couple of things come to mind as I reread the chapter. One is that the focus on Kennit’s internal state seems set to breed sympathy for the man in the reader, even as it presents thoughts of wholesale slaughter. Perhaps “understanding” would be a better term, though; I do not think that such attitudes are regarded as favorable, but I do think that Kennit expands upon some ideas that are present in Regal Farseer. I acknowledge the difficulty and presumption in conducting psychoanalytical readings of characters in works of (fantasy) fiction, but I do think there’s a useful reading in there–and one that explains but does not excuse the character’s behaviors and attitudes.
Another is that Malta’s shift in attitude and behavior aboard the Chalcedean ship seems ripe for reading as a reflection of various reclamation ideas, a deployment of repressive patriarchal gender roles in an attempt to secure her own advancement. A comparison to Serilla’s machinations, both during her travel from Jamaillia with the Satrap and in Bingtown afterwards, seems ripe for making, as well, although I note again that I do not have the theoretical or critical background to do a good job of analyzing and interpreting it to any substantial degree. Still, I cannot help but see the parallels in play, and I find myself wondering how often I am confronted in such ways, with people adopting what they believe are my expectations in an attempt to get from me what they want. I know there are ways in which I serve to deny or restrict the agency of others in unacceptable ways (there are limits to be enforced in some situations, though, and not always those voluntarily accepted; I would be a poor father not to work to keep my seven-year-old daughter safe, after all, and doing so does sometimes mean I have to disallow her from things), and I am sure that those over whom I have power do things to get around those denials and restrictions, even if I am not always aware that I am imposing them. But that is a facet of privilege, and there is much comment to be made about how relative privilege is addressed in the Elderlings corpus as a whole…
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The following chapter, “Bingtown Negotiations,” starts with Ronica looking over the remains of the old Traders’ Concourse as the people of Bingtown gather together. She notes, too, that the people assembled are strangely equal, affected alike by war and grief. Notably, Serilla, Caern, Kelter, and members of the Traders’ Council are in attendance, as are representatives of the Tattooed, the Khupruses, Mingsley, and Selden; the last claims to be present to intercede between Bingtown and Tintaglia, and he reports on her current status. Keffria regards her son strangely, taken aback by the changes to him.
The assembly begins to confer, fractiously at first, spurred by Caern. Serilla unceremoniously rejects him and attempts to assert authority; the rejection is upheld but the authority rejected, in part by the Tattooed. Jani speaks in favor of the position outlined by the Tattooed, as well. And Tintaglia arrives, announcing her presence decisively and berating the people gathered together. Selden again intercedes, diverting what seems promised retribution, and Ronica senses the political realignments at work. Tintaglia again reiterates her command that the folk of Bingtown help her save dragonkind, noting the means to do so; negotiations regarding how best to do the work required ensue, and a tentative accord is in place when Keffria interjects regarding Malta. Reyn rushes to her aid, and Tintaglia rages–but does not attack, physically. Reyn is, however, pulled into her psychic power, where he is shown Malta. But even that revelation does not bind him to her will; negotiations continue, and it is averred that all who seek to remain in Bingtown and the Rain Wilds will agree to the arrangement and to the governance of the Bingtown Council, which is opened to new elections from among all the groups present.
Bingtown appears to be on the rise from the nadir of the previous chapter, with new beginnings and what seems to be a more stable, inclusive form of government in the offering. I am reminded again of parallels to the stories about the emergence of the United States (stories, I emphasize; I know that the histories are not so happy or fortunate, and that current events continue not to be so), and I do note that Hobb’s parallel is more open than even those happy tales. Women and minority populations are explicitly and specifically included, and those who had been enslaved are afforded equal status in the emerging system, with slavery being prohibited in both its chattel and indentureship forms. It is refreshing to read a piece of historicist fiction–that is, one that borrows from historical details without pretending to accurately represent bits of history–that does not laud the prejudices of the past and overtly reinscribe them, but instead offers a view of how things can be better.
It would be nice if more people would work towards such things.
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The next chapter, “Tintaglia’s Bargain,” begins with Reyn waking where he has bedded down in the Tenira household alongside Grag and Selden. He muses on recent events, both the burgeoning new Bingtown and the holdovers of the older system and their interpenetration by Roed and Serilla. Caern’s bloodlust poisoned initial attempts at rapprochement as Chalcedeans attacked some days past, and the Chalcedeans seized the Kendry, the harbor, and many captives to enslave. Grag rouses, and the two confer about what can be done and what should be done. Selden also rouses and declares his intention to proceed with the other two to the fight that they all know is coming, and they find that matters are already in motion as they take what they recognize may be a final meal together.
Elsewhere, Tintaglia fumes at her reception at Trehaug; it was unkind even by human standards, and dragons tend to assume that they deserve veneration. But as she flies forth, searching for Reyn or Malta, she comes under attack from ships in Bingtown’s harbor; she responds in kind and is surprised to hear Selden singing her praises. She alights, and Reyn steps out to confront her despite the fatigue of his fighting. Tintaglia realizes his fey mood is prompted by his belief that Malta is dead; she says to him that Malta lives and bids him and those with him to work to save dragonkind. She also repels a sneak attack from Chalcedeans in the town before reiterating her demand; Selden interposes and sways her with honeyed words to clear the harbor of the Chalcedean threat. As Bingtown begins to rally, Reyn confronts the changes occurring in Selden.
There is an interesting echo of Tolkien in the first section of the chapter; Jani Khuprus and Nana Tenira both appear ready to go out and fight, with the latter remarking that she is of more account than simply to feed her son and send him out to die in a comment that calls to mind Éowyn’s remarks in The Lord of the Rings. Given Éowyn’s efficacy in the Battle of the Pelennor, it is possible there is some quiet foreshadowing at work, here; Hobb is certainly aware enough of Tolkien to have echoed the comment deliberately, and even if it is not deliberate, it is not to be wondered at that an author shows her reading.
In terms of narrative structure, the present chapter is close to the middle of the book; it is therefore to be expected that the climax for which Freytag calls or the turning point outlined in Frye’s models would be in the present chapter or soon enough. And Bingtown does seem to have reached something of a nadir as the chapter begins; it is in disarray, its holdings looted and burned, its people divided and being taken into slavery. Matters appear to improve somewhat by the end of the chapter, with Tintaglia turning to the aid of Bingtown, but Reyn is wary of the influence of and interference by the dragon. Given how the dragon acts–and fights–and the traditional associations of dragons in the English-speaking world, there is some question about whether Bingtown has made the proverbial “deal with the devil,” the more so as those who treat most closely with Tintaglia bear the mark of it upon them…
Elliott RWI 