Lord Foul's Bane Chapters 11 & 12

LFB, TIW, TPTP

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Lord Mhoram
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Post by Lord Mhoram »

Way back in the day, when I was searching Google for TC stuff (on that same search I found the Watch!) I found this image. Its actually where I got the name for my homepage. :oops: :lol:

www.stic.net/users/mrd/
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Post by caamora »

Great pics, everyone!

Danlo, was that you on your homepage?
The King has one more move.
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Post by danlo »

Yessss.
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Surely Landsdrop would be inspired by the Mogollon Rim in Arizona?? This huge cliff that goes across a big chunk of the state like a wall, tall enough that there's a different life zone on the top from that at the bottom? And the Stonedowns sound like some fo the Hopi villages? Isn't one of them made of hollowed out boulders and the like?
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giving of names..help?

Post by hijhinx@aol.com »

Mhoram and Covenant are both ineffectual at this point. Mhoram because of his parents at the head of the council, Covenant, because he hasn't a clue where he is! Atiaran and Foamfollower are meant to offset each other, for now...they both come to strength later(I am sad that Atiaran's strength was cut from the next book)...at this point Lena only serves to make Covenant a criminal and/or crazy in his own mind.

What I need from you all, is the quote about "giving of names".

help, please? best, Dawn
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Fist and Faith
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Post by Fist and Faith »

"There is power in names. I do not wish to be invoked by any but friends."
SRD doesn't go nearly as far with this idea as Le Guin, but it's a fun quote. :)
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
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[Syl]
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Post by [Syl] »

I think this is what you're looking for.
Still hesitating, Atiaran asked, "What is your name?"
"That is another long story," the Giant returned, and repeated, "What is your need?"
But Atiaran insisted dully, "Your name."
Again a gleam sprang from under the Giant's massive brows. "There is power in names. I do not wish to be invoked by any but friends."
"Your name!" Atiaran groaned.
For an instant, the Giant paused, indecisive.. Then he said, "Very well. Though my embassy is not a light one, I will answer for the sake of the loyalty between my people and yours. To speak shortly, I am called Saltheart Foamfollower."
Abruptly, some resistance, some hatred of her decision, crumbled in Atiaran as if it had been defeated at last by the Giant's trust. She raised her head, showing Covenant and Foamfollower the crushed landscape behind her eyes. With grave deliberation, she gave the salute of welcome. "Let it be so. Saltheart Foamfollower, Rockbrother and Giants' legate, I charge you by the power of your name, and by the great Keep of faith which was made between Damelon Giantfriend and your people, to take this man, Thomas Covenant, Unbeliever and stranger to the Land, in safety to the Council of Lords. He bears messages to the Council from Kevin's Watch. Ward him well, Rockbrother. I can go no farther."
"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
-George Steiner
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Post by [Syl] »

Dang it, Fist. You beat me. I didn't bother checking the last page first.
"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
-George Steiner
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Post by Fist and Faith »

Ya gotta get up pretty early in the morning...
lol ;)

But nothing wrong with giving her the surrounding material!
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
-Paul Simon
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Post by Cord Hurn »

Chapter 12 of Lord Foul's Bane contains one of my favorite passages in the first half of the book: the description of Revelstone as Covenant, Foamfollower, and Quaan and his Eoman are approaching it a short hike away from the river.
...The steepness of the climb made Foamfollower stumble several times, and he was barely strong enough to catch himself on the horses. But when he had labored up the ridge, he stopped, lifted up his head, spread his arms wide, and began to laugh. "There, my friend. Does that not answer you?" His voice was weak, but gay with refreshed joy.

Ahead over a few lower hills was Lord's Keep.

The sight caught Covenant by surprise, almost took his breath away. Revelstone was a masterwork. It stood in granite permanence like an enactment of eternity, a timeless achievement formed of mere lasting rock by some pure, supreme Giantish participation in skill.

Covenant agreed that Revelstone was too short a name for it.

The eastern edge of the plateau was finished by a broad shaft of rock, half as high as the plateau and separate from it except at the base, the first several hundred feet. This shaft had been hollowed into a tower which guarded the sole entrance to the Keep, and circles of windows rose up past the abutments to the fortified crown. But most of Lord's Keep was carved into the mountain gut-rock under the plateau.

For half a mile west from the tower, the entire cliff-face had been worked by the old Giants--sheered and crafted into a vertical outer wall for the city, which, Covenant later learned, filled the whole, wedge-shaped promontory of the plateau. The wall was intricately labored--lined and coigned and serried with regular and irregular groups of windows, balconies, buttresses--orieled and parapeted--wrought in a prolific and seemingly spontaneous multitude of details which appeared to be on the verge of crystallizing into a pattern. But light flashed and danced on the polished cliff-face, and the wealth of variation in the work overwhelmed Covenant's senses, so that he could not grasp whatever pattern might be there.

But with his new eyes he could see the thick, bustling, communal life of the city. It shone from behind the all as if the rock were almost translucent, almost lit from within like a chiaroscuro by the life-force of its thousands of inhabitants. The sight made the whole Keep swirl before him. Though he looked at it from a distance, and could encompass it all--Furl Falls roaring on one side and the expanse of the plains reclining on the other--he felt that the old Giants had outdone him. Here was a work worthy of pilgrimages, ordeals. He was not surprised to hear Foamfollower whisper like a vestal, "Ah, Revelstone! Lord's Keep! Here the Unhomed surpass their loss."

The Eoman responded in litany:

"Giant-troth Revelstone, ancient ward--
Heart and door of Earthfriend's main:
Preserve the true with Power's sword,
Thou ages-Keeper, Mountain-reign!"
It's all about the feeling of humbling bedazzlement when we read this description of Revelstone!!! 8O 8O I don't think any movie or painting can live up to such an image as presented here, of supreme sculpture that's--what was all that again?-- Revelstone is all lined and coigned and serried and orieled and parapeted?!?--wow, that's a LOT for an actual physical image to try to live up to, you know?

This is an incredible weaving of impressions, that catch the reader's breath in a momentary pause of awe. I think it's a great moment!

This is a fun section of the book to re-read, always!! :mrgreen:
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Post by Cord Hurn »

I'm struck by both the justness and the unjustness of the way Atiaran treats Covenant. She is fully justified to loathe Covenant for what he did to her daughter, and shows amazing forbearance toward him because he is a prophesied figure of hope. Yet, she believes he already has the knowledge to save the Land and that he is willfully refusing to employ that knowledge, which we know is untrue. This is one of the complications that kept me reading LFB, to see how it would turn out for Covenant and the Land.
In Chapter 11 of [i]Lord Foul's Bane[/i] was wrote:After a time, he said without meaning to speak aloud, "I would have saved them if I could."

"You have the power." Atiaran's voice was dull, inert, as if she were no longer capable of grief or anger.

"What power?" he asked painfully.

"Do you wear the white gold for nothing?"

"It's just a ring. I wear it--I wear it because I'm a leper. I don't know anything about power."

She did not look at him. "I cannot see. You are closed to me."
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In Chapter 11 of [i]Lord Foul's Bane[/i] was wrote: Atiaran threw her arms into the air again, gave one more call, then dropped to the ground. When Covenant reached her, she was sitting with her knees clasped to her chest, and her lips trembled as if her face were about to break. She stared feverishly at the approaching boat.

As it drew nearer, Covenant began to see with growing surprise just how tall the steering figure was. Before the boat was within a hundred feet of them, he was sure that the steersman was twice his own height. And he could see no means of propulsion. The craft appeared to be nothing more than an enormous rowboat, but there were no oarlocks, no oars, no poles. He gaped widely at the boat as it glided closer.

When it was within thirty feet of them, Atiaran thrust herself to her feet and called out, "Hail, Rockbrother! The Giants of Seareach are another name for friendship! Help us!" The boat kept gliding toward the bank, but its steersman did not speak; and shortly Atiaran added in a whisper that only Covenant could hear, "I beg you."

The Giant kept his silence as he approached. For the last distance, he swung the tiller over so that the boat's prow aimed squarely at the riverbank. Then, just before the craft struck, he drove his weight down in the stern. The prow lifted out of the water and grounded itself securely a few yards from Atiaran and Covenant. In a moment, the Giant stood before them on the grass, offering them the salute of welcome.

Covenant shook his head in wonder. He felt that it was impossible for anyone to be so big; the Giant was at least twelve feet tall. But the rocky concreteness of the Giant's presence contradicted him. The Giant struck his perceptions as tangibly as stumbling on rough stone.

Even for a being twelve feet tall, he appeared gnarled with muscles, like an oak come to life. He was dressed in a heavy leather jerkin and leggings, and carried no weapons. A short beard, as stiff as iron, jutted from his face. And his eyes were small, deep set and enthusiastic. From under his brows, massed over his sockets like the wall of a fortress, his glances flashed piercingly, like gleams from his cavernous thoughts. Yet, in spite of his imposing appearance, he gave an impression of incongruous geniality, of immense good humor.

"Hail, Rocksister," he said in a soft bubbling tenor voice which sounded too light and gentle to come from his bemuscled throat. "What is your need? My help is willing, but I am a legate, and my embassy brooks no delay."

Covenant expected Atiaran to blurt out her plea; the hesitation with which she met the Giant's offer disturbed him. For a long moment, she gnawed her lips as if she were chewing over her rebellious flesh, searching for an utterance which would give direction, one way or another, to a choice she hated. Then, with her eyes downcast as if in shame, she murmured uncertainly, "Where do you go?"
While I was intrigued by the appearance of the Giant, I was struck more by how much more tormented Atiaran appears here than we have ever seen her before. She doesn't lightly change her mind, and I can easily see the way she is being strained by the powerful pulling of two opposing desires: to accompany Covenant to Revelstone to accuse him before the Lords, or to be rid of the responsibility of Covenant altogether. She seems prepared to loathe either decision.
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In Chapter 11 of [i]Lord Foul's Bane[/i] was wrote:At her question, the Giant's eyes flashed, and his voice bubbled like a spring of water from a rock as he said, "My destination? Who is wise enough to know his own goal? But I am bound for--No, that name is too long a story for such a time as this. I go to Lord's Keep, as you humans call it."

Still hesitating, Atiaran asked, "What is your name?"

"That is another long story," the Giant returned, and repeated, "What is your need?"

But Atiaran insisted dully, "Your name."

Again a gleam sprang from under the Giant's massive brows. "There is power in names. I do not wish to be invoked by any but friends."

"Your name!" Atiaran groaned.

For an instant, the Giant paused, indecisive. Then he said, "Very well. Though my embassy is not a light one, I will answer for the sake of the loyalty between my people and yours. To speak shortly, I am called Saltheart Foamfollower."

Abruptly, some resistance, some hatred of her decision, crumbled in Atiaran as if it had been defeated at last by the Giant's trust. She raised her head, showing Covenant and Foamfollower the crushed landscape behind her eyes. With grave deliberation, she gave the salute of welcome. "Let it be so. Saltheart Foamfollower, Rockbrother and Giant's legate, I charge you by the power of your name, and by the great Keep of faith which was made between Damelon Giantfriend and your people, to take this man, Thomas Covenant, Unbeliever and stranger to the Land, in safety to the Council of Lords. He bears messages to the Council of Lords. He bears messages to the Council from Kevin's Watch. Ward him well, Rockbrother. I can go no farther."
This totally stunned me, as it does Covenant. I was sure she was going to formally expose Covenant's crime to the Lords. This passage shows just how severe Atiaran's self-doubt and self-judgment has become. 8O
What? Covenant gaped. In his surprise, he almost protested aloud, And give up your revenge? But he held himself still with his thoughts reeling, and waited for her to take a stance he could comprehend.
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Post by Cord Hurn »

In Chapter 11 of [i]Lord Foul's Bane[/i] was wrote:"Ah, you are too quick to call on such bold names," the Giant said softly. "I would have accepted your charge without them. But I urge you to join us. There are rare healings at Lord's Keep. Will you not come? Those who await you would not begrudge such a sojourn--not if they could see you as I do now."

Bitterness twisted Atiaran's lips. "Have you seen the new moon? That comes of the last healing I looked for." As she went on, her voice grew grey with self-despite. "It is a futile charge I give you. I have already caused it to fail. There has been murder in all my choices since I became this man's guide, such murder--" She choked on the bile of what she had seen, and had to swallow violently before she could continue. "Because my path took us too close to Mount Thunder. You passed around that place. You must have seen the evil working there."

Distantly, the Giant said, "I saw."

"We went into the knowledge of that wrong, rather than make our way across the Center Plains. and now it is too late for anyone. He--the Grey Slayer has returned. I chose that path because I desired healing for myself. What will happen to the Lords if I ask them to help me now?"
Though I had just barely known this Giant when I read this for the first time, I already knew that I liked him, as he comes across as compassionate and gentle.

As for Atiaran, I get the feeling that she feels unworthy of the Lord's healing, and she fears her desire to have Covenant punished will interfere with the defense of the Land and give Lord Foul a decisive victory. I think these are the real reasons she doesn't want to go any further, not because of the moon turning red or because she fears her presence in Revelstone will harm the Lords.
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Post by Cord Hurn »

In Chapter 11 of [i]Lord Foul's Bane[/i] was wrote:And give up your revenge? Covenant wondered. He could not comprehend. He turned completely toward her and studied her face, trying to see her health, her spirit.

She looked as if she were in the grip of a ravaging illness. Her mien had thinned and sharpened; her spacious eyes were shadowed, veiled in darkness; her lips were drained of blood. And vertically down the center of her forehead lay a deep line like a rift in her skull--the tool work of unblinkable despair. Etched there was the vastness of the personal hurt which she contained by sheer force of will, and the damage she did herself by containing it.
Even if one does not really like Atiaran's character, it is difficult not to sympathize with her here.
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Post by Cord Hurn »

This passage is what makes Atiaran absolutely unforgettable for me, and makes the consequences of what Covenant does in the Land feel real to me, though we do not know if the Land is real or if Covenant is dreaming it at this point.
In Chapter 11 of [i]Lord Foul's Bane[/i] was wrote:At last Covenant saw clearly the moral struggle that wasted her, the triple conflict between her abhorrence of him, her fear for the Land, and her dismay at her own weakness--a struggle whose expense exhausted her resources, reduced her to penury. The sight shamed his heart, make him drop his gaze. Without thinking, he reached toward her and said in a voice full of self-contradicting pleas, "Don't give up."

"Give up?" she gasped in virulence, backing away from him. "If I gave up, I would stab you where you stand!" Suddenly, she thrust a hand into her robe, and snatched out a stone knife like the one Covenant had lost. Brandishing it, she spat, "Since the Celebration--since you permitted Wraiths to die--this blade has cried out for your blood. Other crimes I could set aside. I speak for my own. But that--! To countenance such desecration--!"

She hurled the knife savagely to the ground, so that it stuck hilt-deep in the turf by Covenant's feet. "Behold!" she cried, and in that instant her voice became abruptly gelid, calm. "I wound the Earth instead of you. It is fitting. I have done little else since you entered the Land.

"Now hear my last word, Unbeliever. I let you go because these decisions surpass me. Delivering children in the Stonedown does not fit me for such choices. But I will not intrude my desires on the one hope of the Land--barren as that hope is. Remember that I have withheld my hand--I have kept my Oath."

"Have you?" he asked, moved by a complex impulse of sympathy and nameless ire.

She pointed a trembling finger at her knife. "I have not harmed you. I have brought you here."

"You've hurt yourself."

"That is my Oath," she breathed stiffly. "Now, farewell. When you have returned in safety to your own world, remember what evil is."
I have to say that I felt relief that Atiaran was leaving the story, here--once I got over the initial shock that she wasn't planning to continue to Revelstone and accuse TC in front of the Lords. The story was getting a bit too intense for me, with the continuing conflict within Atiaran and the abrasive relationship between her and TC.
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In Chapter 11 of [i]Lord Foul's Bane[/i] was wrote:He wanted to protest, argue, but her emotion mastered him, and he held himself silent before the force of her resolve. Under the duress of her eyes, he bent, and drew her knife out of the grass. It came up easily. He half expected to see blood ooze from the slash it had made in the turf, but the thick grass closed over the cut, hiding it as completely as an absolution. Unconsciously, he tested the blade with his thumb, felt its acuteness.

When he looked up again, he saw that Atiaran was climbing up the hill and away, moving with the unequal stride of a cripple.

This isn't right! he shouted at her back. Have mercy!--pity! But his tongue felt too thick with the pain of her renunciation; he could not speak. At least forgive yourself. The tightness of his face gave him a nasty impression that he was grinning. Atiaran! he groaned. Why are we so unable?

Into his aching, the Giant's voice came gently. "Shall we go?"

Dumbly, Covenant nodded. He tore his eyes from Atiaran's toiling back, and shoved her knife under his belt.
Oddly, here Atiaran both shows Covenant mercy and withholds it as well.
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