Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
As an epilogue, “The Memory of Wings” begins with the serpents that follow Maulkin conferring about their urgent haste. They are weary with the speed Maulkin urges from them. Maulkin bids them rest, and they reflect on what they have learned. It reminds them that matters have changed substantially, and they puzzle out that an environmental cataclysm has confused them–and the depredations of the liveship builders have robbed them of guides who should have awaited them. The serpent Tellur proposes hunting liveships; Mauklin restrains him and offers to take such liveships as they find but notes that hunting them is not ideal. They have to migrate or die.
The serpent Wintrow freed from Others Island rehearses circumstances as she moves to follow the Vivacia towards the mainland and her intended purpose. She Who Remembers must return her memories to her kin, sharing what she knows with them.
The epilogue makes a neat bookend with the prologue, the titles of the two selections mirroring one another no less than the brevity and non-human focus of the materials. Once again, the novel is re-grounded in the narrative milieu, the chapter serving as a reminder that there is a non-human intelligence very much at work in the story and reminding readers that that intelligence is increasingly concerned with the tiny hairless things that cluster about the cast-off casings of its dead.
Whether the opening of the next book in the series offers as smooth a transition as the prologue of the present novel does, I do not recall at present. Fortunately, I will have opportunity to remind myself as the rereading series continues; thank you for following along with me!
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
The following chapter, “Dragon Rising,” opens with Reyn considering the sunrise from his imprisonment in the collapsed Crowned Rooster chamber, where Selden sleeps. When the boy wakes, Reyn suggests a plan for getting out of the chamber, digging out the one place where the sunlight makes its way in and hope of egress shines down; Selden notes the plan will not work, as the wizardwood upon which they would have to stand is “melting.” Reyn puzzles at the phenomenon, noting that liveships do not fare thus; Tintaglia enters his mind to announce herself as she emerges from her cocoon.
Tintaglia’s efforts to free herself imperil Reyn, who is torn between fascination at her beauty and self-preservation, and Selden as they enact their own escape. Reyn’s thoughts turn with hope to Malta as he and Selden do more to effect their return to the surface. Tintaglia, meanwhile, exults in her freedom and thinks to fly off–but she is dissuaded by some stray thought and makes to redeem both Reyn and Malta, who have aided her.
It is a brief chapter, another bit of denouement for the present novel and setup for the next. The separation from the preceding chapter does serve 1) to help keep the narrative threads separated and 2) allows for spacing between chapters in the narrative sequence that promotes suspense; the previous entry in Reyn’s story does appear to leave him as if for dead. So there are reasons to have the chapter broken out, although I do not know that they make the chapter more effective than consolidation of the various stories would have done. Still, as a brief, penultimate section of the novel, it does well–and I do look forward to getting into the next one soon!
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
The following chapter, “Paragon‘s Captain,” begins with matters returning to normal aboard the Paragon in the wake of the encounter with the serpent. With some caveats: Brashen calls for combat training to begin among the crew, and the ship is strangely pensive–almost mourning–following the encounter. After some tense discussion, in which Lavoy is embarrassed, Brashen’s status as captain is absolutely affirmed, and he puts Lavoy, Althea, and Amber to tasks to assist in the search for the Vivacia. Amber also discusses her work on the figurehead, repairing the scar that mars the figure’s chest; Brashen is a bit put off by it but bids the work continue–carefully. After dismissing Amber, Brashen has a few words for Althea, as well, before she is dismissed, in turn, and Brashen wonders if things will ease.
Amber continues her work with the Paragon, the figurehead noting to her its dual nature. They discuss questions of identity as the ship muses on her fragility, and Amber remarks upon self-determination. The ship frightens Amber and Althea, who keeps watch, for a moment, but Amber asserts that things are well with the Paragon and with her.
The chapter serves, appropriately enough, as something of a denouement, following after the falling action of the Paragon storyline in the present novel. And it does serve to help set up the next volume in the series–fittingly enough, since but one chapter and a numbered epilogue remain in the present one. It also presents an interesting irony, one that becomes clearer in a rereading and that requires knowledge confirmed in other places to make sense; as such, I’ll not detail it, only to point out that it is present. In truth, as I reread the chapter this time, I have to wonder if ideas about Amber’s origin and the friend she reports having and conversing with in absentia were forming as Hobb wrote it, if they had not been before–or if, perhaps, they had been, and she realized more needed to be done to bring out such a connection.
Such considerations do range outside what can be ascertained, of course; at best, reports of process would be available, and there are always issues with reports. Even those filled out with an intention of honest transparency will necessarily omit details, recollection being imperfect and mediation always bringing about changes. But it is an interesting thing to think on, at least for a little while.
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
The succeeding chapter, “Death of the City,” opens with Keffria awake in the night already when an earthquake convulses under Trehaug. She makes to check on Malta and tell her of her imminent departure for Bingtown, rehearsing her nervousness about Trehaug, only to find Malta is not in her chambers. She casts about for her daughter, and is taken to the Khuprus home. Jani demonstrates that Malta is not with Reyn, and their following conversation is interrupted by the brazen bell of a collapse alarm. Jani answers the summons it conveys, leaving Keffria alone to find her children.
This, but underground and in a caustic swamp. Image taken from the US Geological Survey, here, used for commentary.
Malta, still somewhat addled by her experience sharing memories with Tintaglia, strives to find an exit from the collapsed city,the Satrap and his Companion in tow. They do not recognize her from Bingtown, and she struggles to retain her sense of self as she deploys the memories she has shared to try to find egress. With some struggle, and no few complaints from her followers, she succeeds, although the effort leaves them lost in a swamp. Malta declares herself to the Satrap and Companion as they continue to upbraid her, and she stalks off to see if a usable boat is available. She does get one free with minimal assistance, and when the Satrap attempts to command her, she rebukes him, arriving at a better understanding of her grandmother as she drifts off to sleep. She wakes to the Satrap ordering her again. She swiftly wearies of him and moves away, finding a makeshift paddle. Slowly, they head off.
In Trehaug, Jani and Bendir roust Reyn from his drunken slumber against the collapse alarm, citing a need for his knowledge of the city as the work to secure it goes on. Reyn frets about Malta, and Bendir reminds him that the Satrap is imperiled–and his loss would be disastrous for the Traders. Jani realizes that Reyn’s earlier rantings about Malta going into the city are true, and it is in a tumult that the Khupruses proceed to the rescue efforts already underway. Reyn contributes as he muses on circumstances and upon the now-escaped Satrap and his inadequacies, and he comes across the frightened Selden. Asking the boy about his sister, he takes him along as he continues into the city, recognizing the catastrophic extent of the damage caused by the earthquake and soon despairing of Malta’s life. Tintaglia taunts him as he approaches her, and Reyn, realizing that the city is doomed, enlists Selden to help him make an attempt to free the dragon at last. The chamber begins to collapse around them.
The bit about Malta understanding Ronica better stands out in my mind from this reading. I’ve often seen it noted that one of the marks of growing up is better understanding parental figures, and I’ve noticed in myself a tendency to apprehend my parents’ actions better and better as I get older and am a parent longer. It’s another bit of affective reading, to be sure, but I do think that more readers read with affect than avoid it or seek to do so, and it’s certainly the case that I switched to literary study out of love for it (although I switched out of another field for different reasons). It’s also something I notice as I reread that I seem to be affected by different things than I recall. Admittedly, I did not take great notes on earlier readings, certainly not so good a set of them as Luke Shelton has, and I am finding that my memory is not as good as it used to be (although it still rebukes me for mistakes made long ago…), but it feels different this time. Whether that is a good thing or not, I am not sure.
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
The next chapter, “Dragon and Satrap,” begins with Malta languishing in the damp underground cold. She calms herself, pressing onward to follow a sound she is uncertain she hears and a light she is uncertain she sees, soon coming past the cave-in that had trapped her and igniting magic lights that show her the fallen glory from which the Rain Wilds derive their wealth. The setting is familiar to her from dreams with Reyn (here, here, and elsewhere), and she finds herself confused by both the motion of the ground and the fleeting visions of others she sees around her. Pressing on, Malta comes to a chamber carrying the crowned rooster of the Khuprus family; sounds of merriment reach her from behind it. The sounds are illusory, though, as Malta finds when she breaches the chamber, accidentally lays her hands on wizardwood, and hears the voice of the dragon in her mind again.
I’ve been waiting to use this. Image is from Katrin Sapranova, here, used for commentary.
Elsewhere in Trehaug, Jani and Bendir Khuprus confer about Reyn and the wizardwood log they do not realize Malta has found. His status and scandal are remarked upon, and Bendir offers to send him back to work in the city; Jani refuses, and the two head to Reyn’s chambers. They find him frantic and restrain him as he raves that the dragon has Malta and has abandoned him. Jani manages to calm him, along with the effects of sleeplessness and drink, and she and Bendir steal out of his chamber.
Meanwhile, Malta has been dickering with the dragon for noninterference after retrieving her father. She manages to wrangle the dragon’s name, Tintaglia, and a solemn promise to do the things named. Tintaglia communicates the need for her release and conveys a method for effecting it, sharing memories with Malta and guiding her to yet others. The input overwhelms her until the dragon drags her back into herself, and Malta attempts to open the chamber to the outside world. The initial effort is unsuccessful, and Tintaglia dispatches Malta to retrieve Selden to assist; as Malta makes to obey, she encounters the Satrap and his Companion, Kekki. In disdain, they move off; Malta corrects their course, bringing them with her as she begins to effect her own escape from the unstable city.
Among the other things going on in the present chapter is reference to the Farseer books, namely the stone garden where Verity carves his dragon (here and following). In earlier readings, I had seen the matter as something of a retcon, evidently having glossed over the present chapter in memory when I did the earlier reading; the present chapter bids me reconsider that somewhat. If nothing else, Hobb noted the divergent dragons earlier than I had remembered, which is my problem and not the author’s. I am not pleased to have been wrong, as such, although I do appreciate the opportunities afforded by rereading; getting more things right is always a pleasure.
The comments from Tintaglia about the inadequacies of males of her species and Malta’s are of interest, especially against the ongoing feminist critique the Liveship Traders novels offer. The assertion that “Males are timorous creatures at best. They think only to feed and breed….Males will quiver in the shadows, fearing their own deaths. [Females] know that the only thing to be feared is the end of the race” presents an entertainingly divergent perspective that puts me in mind of LeGuin’s later Earthsea materials–although I do not recall them well enough to be able to speak to more direct connections than my having read both. Others who know more would doubtlessly have somewhat to say about it, and I would happily listen.
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
T he following chapter, “Trehaug,” opens with Keffria, Malta, and Selden in the titular city on the Rain Wild River, Selden exulting in the new location and what it offers. Malta is less sanguine, musing on the political situation–Bingtown is under a blockade–and environmental hazards–serpents cluster around the mouth of the Rain Wild River. She notes that her skin is changing, but the healer who calls in on her bids her be up and about to recover. Malta voices agreement but muses on her inward refusal and rehearses recent events, assessing her surroundings. Trehaug is described in some detail, some of it sinister.
Malta is roused by the touch of a gloved hand on her face; it is Reyn, and she is not pleased. He pleads his case with her, and she rails at him. He takes a knee and apologizes for his error, frankly and without evasion; it takes her aback, and she avers her forgiveness of him as she reassesses him. At her insistence, he offers information about the status of Bingtown–it is not good–and she cuts him off as she recalls her trip form Bingtown to Trehaug through a fog of injury and memory. After a pause, conversation resumes, with Reyn offering more details about how things are going and what preparations are being made against the attack that is expected to come. In effect, the Rain Wilds and Bingtown are caught in an internal Jamaillian conflict.
The pair are interrupted by the intrusion of the healer’s assistant, who had come to ensure that Malta rose and walked. Reyn noted that he would address the matter, acknowledging the scandal that would attend on his doing so–and his having intruded upon Malta’s convalescence. He proposes to her anew, and she defers. She asks him about his “drowning in memories,” which takes him aback; he explains why, linking it to the dragon Malta also heard in her dreams and noting the arrangement he has made as a result–which frees the Vestrits from their debt for the Vivacia. Malta finds herself continuing to reassess Reyn and accompanies him on a walk.
Elsewhere in Trehaug, Traders confer about the fate of the Satrap, whom they hold hostage. Keffria is among them, internally questioning her inclusion, and she speaks up in support of the Khuprus position amid the ongoing arguments about what to do with Cosgo: trade him soon, chastise him before trading him, or send him back to Jamaillia and let the nobles there fight over him. As discussion continues, Keffria volunteers to be an emissary and scout for the Rain Wild Traders in Bingtown, citing her situation as useful cover. After some more discussion, her plan is approved, with some minor modifications.
That evening, Malta prevails upon Selden to take her into the underground parts of Trehaug; he hesitates but agrees. She soon passes him up, pressing further underground than he dares, and she is soon separated from him, alone in the damp darkness.
Early in the chapter, the idea of urinating on wood to protect it against the water of the Rain Wild River is noted. It is an interesting detail, not least because of the scatological humor it necessarily provokes (and, indeed, is seen in the chapter as being, among other things). It suggests that the waters of the Rain Wild River are exceptionally acidic; urine tends to be more alkaline than acid, so it would neutralize acids and mitigate their corrosive effects more than would be the case if the Rain Wild was corrosively alkaline. While water is often slightly acidic naturally, and there are areas where life has adapted to relatively high levels of acidity (here, for example), more acidic water tends to be worse for life. That said, peculiarly acidic water can be found in an area that might generously be included within the Pacific Northwest, the coincidence helping to align the Realm of the Elderlings with North America rather than more “typical” fantasy milieux. So there is that.
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
The next chapter, “Oracle,” begins with the Vivacia expressing her dislike of the situation as Wintrow lies upon her foredeck, recovering further from his earlier injuries and recalling the current state of affairs. He affirms the ship’s dislike of being moored at Others Island, with the Marietta not far off, and he comments regarding his ambivalence towards prophecy. The ship voices some recollection of the place, and they posit that Kennit’s earlier visits have entered her memory from his blood soaking into her wizardwood planking. They are further discussing the matter when interrupted by Etta summoning Wintrow to board a ship’s boat and go ashore.
I always imagined the Others looking like this, or close enough. Image from this page on Universal Monsters Universe, used for commentary.
As the ship’s boat makes for shore, Kennit observes Wintrow and muses over the disposition of his crew and followers, focusing on his provisions for Divvytown. Sorcor’s surprising depths and reaffirmed tie to the place receive attention, and, as they make landfall and Kennit orders those other than Wintrow and Etta to remain with the boat, he reflects on Wintrow’s similarities to his earlier self. The pirate realizes that the Others do not want him present, and he sends Wintrow ahead to collect an item, noting that he and Etta will be present for the revelation. After a brief hesitation, Wintrow obeys, and Kennit and Etta follow after, Kennit puzzling over why the charm at his wrist had insisted he bring her with him.
As Wintrow obeys Kennit, he muses over his earlier instructions and the events surrounding Divvytown and its reconstruction. As he presses on across the island, he comes across detritus that he rejects as unimportant before happening upon a treacherous path that leads him to a barred cave. A stunted serpent is constrained within it, and Wintrow finds himself examining its confines, looking for a way to free it, working against the stone that has been built up around it.
Etta and Kennit continue across the island, trailing him; neither can see him for a time, and Kennit grows impatient. He demands Etta help him hurry along, and she does. Meanwhile, Wintrow continues working against the serpent’s cage, making some progress as the tide begins to come up. The serpent surges against the incomplete opening, sharing the experience of pain with him, and he struggles to complete his work of opening the serpent’s enclosure. He frees the serpent, sustaining substantial injury in the process, and remains in mental communion with the serpent as she makes it to the water–“The Plenty”–and purposes to rejoin her kind.
Etta and Kennit are summoned by the screams of pain and proceed towards their source. The Others seek to interdict them, and the pair press on as rain begins to fall. Kennit and Etta reach the gravely injured Wintrow as the Others attack, and melee is joined. The serpent flees, as do Kennit, Etta, and Wintrow, who make for the Vivacia, scrambling aboard the ship’s boat. The crew begins to tend to Wintrow in awe as he drifts in his mind and worries about what the ship will learn from him. Kennit defies the storm, and the freed serpent pushes the ship’s boat swiftly towards the liveship; the Vivacia calls out to her kindred serpent, recognizing herself and her in the same moment. And in the aftermath, as Wintrow rests and begins to recover from the new exertions, Etta and Kennit realize that she is pregnant.
If “The Storm” is the climax of one narrative thread in the book, this chapter is for the pirates and serpents. If nothing else, the revelation of Etta’s pregnancy denotes a major change; becoming a parent certainly changed my life enough, and if Kennit purports to be a king, he has a decided interest in ensuring the continuation of his dynasty. That there is an apparent heir serves to secure his ambitions–at least to some degree; the perils of pregnancy, childbirth, and youth still wait, of course. More, Etta seems herself to undergo something of a transformation in the chapter, although there is some critique to be read into her reliance upon Kennit’s urging and Wintrow’s exigency to enact it; increasingly removed from academe as I am, I am not positioned to do the work myself, but I can see that it needs to be done. Too, a looked-for messianic figure (noted here and here, among others) has emerged, which seems pretty solidly climactic.
If there have been climaxes, though, and ones into which some lewd humor might be read, what Freytag calls falling action is soon to follow–and falling down is not always or even necessarily often a pleasant thing.
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
A content warning regarding sexual assault is in order.
A chapter titled “Proofs” follows and opens with Etta entering Kennit’s cabin. The pirate reflects on recent events and his work drafting a plan for Divvytown, thinking back to his childhood; amid his reverie, the charm at Kennit’s writs upbraids him for his desire for control over others, and he retires. When Etta joins him in bed, Kennit chides her; she reports that Wintrow had taken more injury ashore than had been thought, and that she had tended to him while asking him about her continued readings. She professes her faithfulness to Kennit, which takes him aback and prompts him to urge her toward him; she notes that Wintrow professes a belief that he is divinely ordained to follow Kennit, and the pirate exults in the revelation. He purposes to take Wintrow to Others Island for soothsaying before engaging Etta intimately.
I can see this going badly, yeah. Source in image, used for commentary.
Aboard the Paragon, Althea sees to the completion of a task–finding and treating a soiled cask of salt pork–she had assigned to crewmen Lop and Artu. When she rebukes them for lazing about rather than doing their work, Artu attempts to rape her, and a melee ensues. Althea prevails, if narrowly, and drags Artu above deck, where Brashen is incredulous and Lavoy almost smug as Althea reports. Lop emerges from below decks with the rotten meat and begins to put it overboard when a serpent attacks. Defying Brashen’s orders and Althea’s urgings, Haff rushes forward to fight the creature and is badly injured. A more general melee breaks out against the serpent, and it is driven off injured, although several of the crew are also harmed; the Paragon exults in memories suddenly returning.
Back at the Vestrit estate, Ronica ponders over changes as she prepares herself and her family for flight. Their return to the estate after the attack is glossed, and Malta’s note that the attackers had sought Cosgo and the Companions recalled. Reyn arrives, and Ronica realizes that he has been involved in the ongoing upset; she bids him leave, but he instead makes to abduct Malta. Ronica relents and sends Keffria, Malta, and Selden with Reyn, who says he can get them to the Rain Wilds and safety. Ronica remains behind with Rache as the rest of them depart.
Later, aboard the Paragon, Brashen summons Althea from her cabin. As she makes to report, she considers events since the attack, and when she reports, she is taken aback at the injuries Brashen has sustained. As she eases herself, he briefs her on crew and ship status, including injuries to Haff and reassignment of Artu–who has pled for it in abject fear of her. Brashen makes to examine her injuries and kisses her, which gesture she returns before leaving his cabin to a wry comment from Clef, who has been peeping in on them.
If the previous chapter was the narrative climax, this chapter is decidedly part of the falling action. Matters move forward from the climactic encounter, certainly, and in response to the changes occasioned by that encounter–although the effects of it have yet to be felt aboard either the Vivacia or the Paragon. That the liveships are not concerned with that climax (yet, perhaps) might be taken to indicate that the narrative threads centering on them are not the main ones, as such–although such a reading necessarily assumes a hierarchical relationship among the narratives in play and thus among the characters upon which they center. How accurate that assumption is is subject to question, however, certainly now if not necessarily at the time and in the circumstances of the novel’s composition and initial publication. But that is one of the things about good writing that marks it as good: it sustains multiple readings, multiple interpretations that can and do change over time.
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
The succeeding chapter, “The Storm,” opens with Keffria retrieving Malta and Delo for their formal presentations; the girls had been gossiping amiably as more of the preliminaries of the ball went on. Malta purposes to reflect well on her absent and elided father as she is announced and formally presented to the Bingtown Traders. She does well enough until Restart ostentatiously signals her over as the music, set to begin, waits, and Malta finds herself being presented by Restart to Satrap Cosgo–and she is humiliated to be associated with him thus.
Perhaps something like this? Image is Wilhelm Gause’s Hofball in Wien, which I am told is in the public domain and which I get from here
After a brief, somewhat barbed exchange, the Satrap descends from his dais to dance with Malta; she is struck by his differences from her and from what she has known, and she is taken aback by the innuendo he voices as they dance together. But as he withdraws and she casts about afterward, Reyn encounters her; after a brief query, he escorts her back to Keffria at her own insistence. As they confer about what has just happened, Reyn threatens to kill Cosgo, and Malta rebukes him sharply. After a moment, Reyn offers a considered apology for his overreach; it is not accepted, and Malta finds herself in mind of her father again, thinking about the lapsing opportunities before her. As attention accrues to them, they spin off into the next dance, and they are almost at accord when Reyn offers what Malta recognizes as “patronizing words”; she extricates herself from him and fumes briefly before Delo’s brother, Cerwin, sweeps her into another dance.
Cerwin suffers in comparison to Reyn, and Malta continues to fume internally about the affair as she pays compliment to her dance partner, watching Reyn confer closely with his own–Serilla. She accepts a glass of wine and finds a seat.
Reyn, for his part, had been advised by the disguised Grag Tenira that a conspiracy brews against Cosgo, one in which the Chalcedean mercenaries are complicit and which will be used as a pretext to assail Bingtown and bring it under not just its current economic colonization, but under overt dominion. As Reyn dances with Serilla, he is briefed on such details as she has puzzled out; she suggests that he take Cosgo, herself, and the other Companion hostage as a way to thwart the coup. After, Reyn tries to convince Malta to leave the ball as he begins to make his way out to see to the abduction; she refuses, not understanding the reason for his urgency, and he departs, not without effort.
Malta continues on at the ball, dancing repeatedly with Cerwin before Keffria recalls her. Keffria presses for departure, noting that many of the Bingtown and all of the Rain Wild Traders have left. Restart hinders their departure, in part by requiring a formal farewell to the Satrap, which leads to the Satrap inviting himself to depart along with the Vestrit family. The ensuing departure is cramped and awkward, with Cosgo treading the line of boorishness all too closely until the party is beset by attackers.
In the fracas, Restart is killed, and Ronica struggles for her family. Keffria is injured but present and alive; Selden is in shock at the event. Malta is alive, as well, though others have died; the carriage in which they had been riding had rolled at least twice as a result of the attack.
It is only as I look back to compose this entry that I recall the title of the preceding chapter and the joke embedded therein; it was the calm before the storm. I delight in such things, of course, but I am somewhat annoyed not to have recognized or recalled the joke sooner. Then again, it has been an interesting few days, so…
Far less humorously, the promise of the previous chapter that the narrative climax was coming is fulfilled–and emphatically. The outbreak of violence, begun and not hindered, is a clear marker of the shift in power going on. The fallout therefrom cannot help but be severe; how much it will be, and for whom, will be seen.
I should note that I write this as more-than-winter conditions prevail across the part of the world where I live; the Hill Country is far, far from accustomed to such snowfall as I see from my window today, and I even had to abandon a car. (“Don’t go out unless you have to” still leaves “have to,” after all.) I hope to have another post up as scheduled on Monday, 22 February 2021, but I cannot make such a promise…it’s a hell of a way to mark my daughter’s seventh birthday, to be sure.
Read the previous entry in the series here. Read the next entry in the series here.
The following chapter, “The Calm,” opens with Keffria confronting Malta and musing on her own thwarted expectations for Malta’s first formal event as an acknowledged woman. The two confer, Keffria remarking on what appears to be a bruise on the back of Malta’s neck, Malta considering questions of identity. Keffria attempts to set her concerns aside in favor of the larger events facing Bingtown with the Satrap’s presence. After conversation on that point, the two resume their preparations to attend the coming formal ball.
For some perspective… Robin Hobb Map by Crooty on DeviantArt, used for commentary.
Serilla stews as her machinations with Cosgo are undone by events. She also muses on the strange status of Bingtown, the sole known surviving settlement on the Cursed Shores. The Rain Wilds receive some attention from her as she plots to relocate permanently to Bingtown, and Serilla continues to muse on the political situation in place in the region. Steadying herself against the recollection of her traumas, she makes ready to join the day’s festivities.
Reyn and Grag, veiled, confer. They are informed of the present situation–Grag is still wanted, with a price on his head–and make their own preparations for the ball.
At length, the Vestrit women and Selden make their way to the ball, the scene for which is described in detail. As matters get underway, Malta confers with her childhood friend, Delo, and the two take a turn about the venue, gossiping almost idly as they do. Meanwhile, Restart considers his situation and his plans to see Malta engaged to Cosgo; he offers what he thinks are kind words toward Serilla, offering insult that is returned with more aplomb.
It is clear from the structure of the chapter that the Summer Ball will be a major turning point in the narrative–perhaps the climax in Freytag’s pyramidal narrative structure or the vertex in Frye’s parabolic narrative structure. With such focus accorded to the lead-up to the Ball, it has to be important. Has to. And given the usual trilogy structure in which the Liveship Traders novels operate, the turning point is likely to be the primary such point for the series as a whole.
The chapter, too, serves as another commentary on gender norms. Keffira and Malta, Serilla, and even Reyn and Grag all act in ways that highlight the disparities in “traditional” gender roles–those present in Bingtown and its contexts as well as in the Anglophone world that is the clear primary audience for the books. (I am aware that translations exist, and that many of them are well considered, thank you. But.) The women, capable as they are and are becoming, are constrained by expectations placed upon them; the men, however admirable in some ways, act with blithe disdain of the women in their lives–because they have been allowed to learn to do so. There are lessons therein that might well be applied by a great many readers–but that likely will not be by many of those who most need to learn them.
