Runes, Prolouge, Ch. 2: Gathering Defenses

[wayfriend]

Surely her contest with the madness of her patients could not compare with the sheer glory of Thomas Covenant’s struggle to redeem the Land. Nevertheless she clsoed her thoat and continued guiding Roger toward Joan’s room. The ache he elicited was familiar to her, and she knew how to bear it.

Her life here was not less than the one she had lived with Covenant. It was only different. Less grand, perhaps: more ambiguous, with smaller triumphs. But it sufficed.

Given Bannor’s “we suffice,” I wonder if we can take Linden’s (or SRD’s) word for anything sufficing. Clearly he uses this word when he means exactly the opposite.

Or he means exactly what he said.

What I see here is people taking Linden having fond memories of her best times and greatest moments, and assuming that this means she "can't let go".

What does letting go look like? Does it mean forgetting about Thomas Covenant and the Land and being the Sun-Sage? I don't think so.

Letting go doesn't mean forgetting. It means not trying to get it back. There are no words from the author that Linden is trying to get anything back, or trying to go back. Just fond memories, whose conspicuousness has more to do with establishing the story than it does with implying that she hangs around pining all day.

Working in the hospital, raising Jeremiah - these things are moving on and doing something new. It is the next thing - a mortal, normal, unremarkable next thing in a life. It doesn't have to mean it's some sort of desperate "replacement".

What does moving on and not having a desperate replacement look like? Does it mean never being a doctor again? Never caring for anyone else? I don't think so.

Her life suffices. It's there in black and white.

[Zarathustra]

What I see here is people taking Linden having fond memories of her best times and greatest moments, and assuming that this means she "can't let go".

No, not assuming. I'm reading the text and getting something out of it you don't. I didn't read this book with any preconceived notions. I'm letting it affect me, and this is what I get out of it.

The poem from which this prologue gets its title contains a stanza that says:

I know not how to say Farewell,
When Farewell is the word
That stays alone for me to say
Or will be heard.
But I cannot speak out that word
Or ever let my loved one go:
How can I bear it that these rooms
Are empty so?

Donaldson says it right there: she can't let go. You don't have to assume it. That's how she ended WGW, and it's how she begins Runes. Both books end/begin with that poem. We would be negligent if we didn't read the poem and apply it. Donaldson is virtually beating us over the head with it! Not only is the prologue title taken from this poem, but the poem is referenced at least twice (as far as I've read) in the prologue. Clearly, he wanted us to make the connection. This doesn't take assuming. It only takes reading, and noticing the same words being used over and over.

What does letting go look like? Does it mean forgetting about Thomas Covenant and the Land and being the Sun-Sage? I don't think so.

Letting go doesn't mean forgetting.

No one is suggesting that Linden should forget. Forgetting is not a prerequisite for letting go. In fact, if you've merely forgotten about something, you can't let it go. Forgetting is involuntary. Letting go is voluntary. Letting go is something you choose to do. You can't choose to forget something, because you'd have to have in your mind that very thing you're forgetting in order to make that choice--which precludes forgetting.

It means not trying to get it back. There are no words from the author that Linden is trying to get anything back, or trying to go back.

Well, not in Runes.

Spoiler

But clearly she tried to get Covenant back! Fatal Revenant? The author obviously intended to go in this direction when he wrote Runes. That's undeniable (he knows the ends of each book ahead of time). If he knew that Linden would try to get TC back in FR, it would be downright sloppy for him to not give some hint or character motivation from the outset to imply that she wanted to do this. I admit it's subtle, but it's clearly there.

Just fond memories, whose conspicuousness has more to do with establishing the story than it does with implying that she hangs around pining all day.

But pining is exactly what the author shows Linden doing! She goes around remembering TC, silently singing Giantish songs of mourning, loss, and refusal to say farewell! She can't get rid of the piece of crap car, becuase it took her to TC the first time (after watching the movie Lovely Bones, that detail reminds me of parents who lose their children, but then close up their bedrooms and seal them in the condition that their child left them, because they can't accept the fact that they're gone). She can't say farewell. Her heart has rooms full of the dust of her lost love. To me it's pretty clear. Why else would SRD name the prologue for this song of mourning?

Her life suffices. It's there in black and white.

I admit that SRD presents a complex character in Linden. I see the positive things about her which you see. She has obviously done an admirable job of making her life meaningful after her time in the Land. But for anything to be "black and white" in a Donaldson story--much less the Chronicles--would be conspicuously out of character for such a gifted, complex writer.

One additional thing that's not in black and white is your personal theory that Linden doesn't belong in the Land this time around, because she has no issues to resolve. And it seems you're basing everything else on that assumption, and refusing to consider this particular interpretation because it would invalidate your theory. To me, that's outside the text, while everything I've pointed out comes directly from the text.

[wayfriend]

Donaldson says it right there: she can't let go. You don't have to assume it.

Wait. He said right there that her life sufficed, too.

So this is a matter of picking and choosing now. As such, it seems to be a matter of choosing that which corresponds to a preconceived prejudice and ignoring that which does not.

Donaldson does not say "Linden can't let go." Your assertion, that "he says it right there", isn't even so. So you have to be assuming.

Linden sings a song she heard Pitchwife sing. A lament for those that have passed away. A lament that includes a line about not being able to bear letting go.

Contrasting that with "Her life sufficed", I find one to be of more direct evidence than the other.

You've assumed from one line that the poem is about some sort of denial of one's grief. Being unable to let go. It's not AFAICT.

The poem isn't about refusing to let go. It's about having to bear it, and knowing how to bear it, and knowing how to articulate one's grief. The speaker is not in denial, they are just in the middle of the process of accepting, a process that is not complete. The speaker "can't" ... he doesn't say "won't". His grief, from the context, is too recent: the ashes are still in the hearth. So it's "can't yet".

Second, you're assuming that Linden chose to recall that song because the words expressed her denial. A denial which you have pre-assumed she wishes to express I guess. And not because she was recalling it for other reasons.

Both books end/begin with that poem. We would be negligent if we didn't read the poem and apply it.

Exactly. Let's do that. At the end of WGW, she was complete and fulfilled and she grieved for losing Covenant but also accepted it. And that's where she is at the beginning of Runes.

No one is suggesting that Linden should forget. Forgetting is not a prerequisite for letting go. In fact, if you've merely forgotten about something, you can't let it go. Forgetting is involuntary. Letting go is voluntary. Letting go is something you choose to do. You can't choose to forget something, because you'd have to have in your mind that very thing you're forgetting in order to make that choice--which precludes forgetting.

So the question I asked remains unanswered ... what does Linden "letting go" look like, that she's not doing it? You've said it's not a matter of forgetting ... what is it a matter of, then? Apparently, recalling Pitchwife's song is a clue ... but then you say it's not a matter of forgetting, so recalling it must be okay ...

But pining is exactly what the author shows Linden doing! She goes around remembering TC, silently singing Giantish songs of mourning, loss, and refusal to say farewell!

"Pining" implies being non-functional, to me. It doesn't apply here in my opinion. And, again, in the song the speaker doesn't refuse to say fairwell, he just doesn't know how he will bear doing so.

[Zarathustra]

I’ve been thinking about the word, “suffice.” It’s not a very happy word. Try this little experiment: the next time your wife asks you if you love her, tell her, “you suffice.” See what kind of reaction you get. “Good enough” isn’t really good enough, not when we’re talking about things that should be glorious. Our lives should be more than merely “sufficient.”

And SRD gives plenty of clues that “suffice” is, in some sense, Linden lying to herself.

Like Linden herself, and most of Berenford Memorial’s staff, Maxine had committed herself to a need which the county acknowledged but could not meet.

… Collectively the county felt responsible [for the 2nd Chrons events at the bonefire].
In public, most people admitted that they had failed to care for the most desolate and fragile members of their community … Yet this sense of communal guilt ran deeper than most people would acknolwedge. On some level, the entire county understood that the terrible events leading to Covenant’s murder would never have happened if he had not been shunned and execrated, forced into the traditional role of the outcast, the pariah.

So the entire county feels a guilt similar to Joan’s guilt! In fact, it’s almost an identical guilt, because it’s focused on the same person, the same result. And this guilt led them to build Berenford Memorial, where they continue to engage in failure, perpetuating the original failure which led to Covenant’s death.

[Roger] “She isn’t the only one who failed.”
Linden frowned to conceal a wince. She herself had failed Joan: she knew that. She failed all her patients.

Sure, they have good intentions. But they don’t really help anyone in the hospital. How can this possibly fill the hole in Linden’s heart? It’s more like penance than healing.

And make no mistake … she’s trying to fill a hole. Trying, but not succeeding in that, either.

… Linden led him through the edifice where she did the work with which she attempted to fill Covenant’s place in her heart. His place—and the Land’s

So she’s trying to heal people she can’t heal. She’s trying to fill a hole she can’t fill. Her life’s work is a memorial to her failure. How exactly does that suffice?

More on this in the chapter 3 discussion …

[wayfriend]

The only thing I have left constructive to add is this.

Pitchwife first sang the Ashes Lament after Hamako's death. He sang it to ease the hearts of the company, who were grieving. Did he sing this, do you think, to express his refusal to move on after Hamako's death?

By all accounts, this was a song well known among Giants. Would the Giant's revere such a song if it was an expression of denial?

If no, then you have to allow the possibility that Linden's reason for recalling it need not be any of these things, either.

[Relayer]

WF, that's a good point. But Linden isn't a Giant. I don't really see support that suggests that Linden is *celebrating* that past, in the way we think of the Giants doing so, and that this section stands in contrast to that. There are multiple scenes where the Giants allow themselves to grieve, to fully feel their feelings of loss, and then usually burn the pain out with the caamora. Then, while they don't forget, they are no longer burdened by the pain of their loss; they've made room for new joys and happiness. While Linden certainly remembers TC and the Giants, Sunder and Hollian fondly, her predominant thoughts and feelings are about longing and loss, not joy. In some ways, she has moved on... she is not the same woman as the one at the beginning of TWL. But in other ways, she has not.

"The ache he elicited was familiar to her, and she knew how to bear it." ... Not, "meeting Thomas Covenant's son's rekindled a warmth she had not felt in 10 years." (granted, Roger is not the warm-fuzzies type ) She still yearns, after all this time. She's *accepted* her life the way it is; winning these smaller struggles *suffices* for her, but she is not living in joy or fulfillment.

She doesn't conceive that there would ever be another experience in the Land, another chance to get any of that back. She obviously didn't read any of Donaldson's interviews in the 80's

[Zarathustra]

So this is a matter of picking and choosing now. As such, it seems to be a matter of choosing that which corresponds to a preconceived prejudice and ignoring that which does not.

As I've already said, I had no preconceived notions regarding Linden when I first read this. I didn't reread the 1st and 2nd Chrons before reading Runes, so I didn't even remember much of the details. And now my comments come during my 3rd read of Runes, so we're not talking about preconceived notions. More like hindsight.

Donaldson does not say "Linden can't let go." Your assertion, that "he says it right there", isn't even so. So you have to be assuming.

Okay, fair point. But I think the connection is implied.

Linden sings a song she heard Pitchwife sing. A lament for those that have passed away. A lament that includes a line about not being able to bear letting go.

Contrasting that with "Her life sufficed", I find one to be of more direct evidence than the other.

Yes, it's more direct. But given this author's penchant for misdirection, I doubt it precisely for its directness. (In addition to dozens of other examples in the prologue; see chapter 3.)

The poem isn't about refusing to let go. It's about having to bear it, and knowing how to bear it, and knowing how to articulate one's grief. The speaker is not in denial, they are just in the middle of the process of accepting, a process that is not complete. The speaker "can't" ... he doesn't say "won't". His grief, from the context, is too recent: the ashes are still in the hearth. So it's "can't yet".

Okay, good point on being in the middle of the process. If we were talking about anyone else, I think that would be a good observation. But this poem is given at times when Linden is not in the middle of her grief process. She's at the beginning (end of WGW) and end (beginning of Runes). Ten years have gone by. If she's still in the middle by this time, that only makes my case stronger.

Second, you're assuming that Linden chose to recall that song because the words expressed her denial. A denial which you have pre-assumed she wishes to express I guess. And not because she was recalling it for other reasons.

Fair enough. But I haven't seen any evidence for those "other reasons."

Both books end/begin with that poem. We would be negligent if we didn't read the poem and apply it.

Exactly. Let's do that. At the end of WGW, she was complete and fulfilled and she grieved for losing Covenant but also accepted it. And that's where she is at the beginning of Runes.

I don't think she was complete and fulfilled anymore than Covenant was at the end of the 1st Chrons. Would Donaldson really make his protagonist for four books be someone who is complete and fulfilled? Her 2nd Chrons victory was over problems that have their root in her past, her childhood. Now she's dealing with new issues, as a mother and "widow." Victory over the former problems doesn't mean she has no room for further growth.

So the question I asked remains unanswered ... what does Linden "letting go" look like, that she's not doing it?

I predict we'll see that by the end of this series.

[wayfriend]

So the question I asked remains unanswered ... what does Linden "letting go" look like, that she's not doing it?

I predict we'll see that by the end of this series.

Oh, no no no. If you can claim in this chapter that she isn't letting go, you can state what she could look like in this chapter if she was letting go.

Yes, she misses the love of her life. Yes, she realizes that she will never again do anything as important as rescue the Land from the Sunbane. Yes, she realizes she made mistakes.

You would have us believe that these things reflect that she has failed to adjust, failed to let go, failed to deal with reality. I can't accept that without an explanation.

In my opinion, she would be mentally unhealthy if she didn't do any of these things.

So if she is doing these things, what aspects of it make it unhealthy? Where did she cross the line in your opinion that you could say such things as you are saying?

Hence: what would a healthy, adjusted Linden be like? What aspects do you find her displaying that you would not find her displaying if she were healthy and adjusted?

[Zarathustra]

Oh, no no no. If you can claim in this chapter that she isn't letting go, you can state what she could look like in this chapter if she was letting go.

I'm just giving my opinion. You don't have to agree. Why can't you let this point go?

Just teasing you. But seriously, I don't really think it's a relevant question. There are literally endless ways in which Linden could live a healthy life. Just because I could come up with one (among many) wouldn't preclude you from responding that her current "healthy" life is also an example of one. It would be pointless for me to do so. Every example I could give would provide you an opportunity to say, "X isn't necessary for a health life," as if that would disprove my point. And you'd be right--there isn't any single factor that's necessary for a healthy life. Not a man, not a loving family, not a successful career, etc. For my argument, it suffices (heh) to show how her life isn't necessarily "healthy" (I prefer "whole;" "healthy" is your word). By her own admission--and by her own standards--she has a hollow in her heart which she is not able to fill, despite her efforts to do so.

If you don't like the arguments I gave here, check out my points in chapter 3. I feel the quotes from the text are even stronger.

[wayfriend]

There are literally endless ways in which Linden could live a healthy life.

You didn't understand my question. I will try another way.

You list numerous examples from the text which you say proves she is not "whole". Yet, for each and every one you list, they seem like normal, positive, and healthy things for a "whole" person to do or think.

For example, she loved Covenant very much, and ten years later she still longs for him. How does that imply she is not whole? Would she need to not love him anymore to be whole? Would she need to not long for him any more to be whole? If the answers are no and no, then what is it about this fact that makes her not whole? -- Same question for the other examples you raise. Would Linden have to never recall the Ashes Lament for her to be whole? Etc. Etc.

So far, your arguments have been of the backwards logic sort: if Linden were not whole, not able to let go, then she would be like this; since she is like this, she must be not whole, not able to let go. But I'm not sold on backwards logic, so I cannot see your point.

[Zarathustra]

So far, your arguments have been of the backwards logic sort: if Linden were not whole, not able to let go, then she would be like this;

That's not at all what I've said. I have not started with the assumption that she's not whole (this has got to be at least the 3rd time I've had to assert this). I've taken that idea directly from the text!

From chapter 3:

Spoiler

When at last she tracked him down and arranged to meet him, she recognized immediately the missing piece of her heart, the part which might make her whole.

(Emphasis on the "might;" it doesn't work ... see my chapter 3 notes.)

Thus, my logic is not backwards. I believe that particular description applies more to your question (i.e. the demand for me to give examples of her being whole). I can tell that a pile of glass shards are a broken vase without being able to describe exactly how it would look if it were whole. I can detect a broken computer without knowing how to fix it. Being able to know that something is broken has a much lower threshold of knowledge or expertise than knowing that something is working properly. That's why knowing you're sick or knowing your car needs work is a lot easier than diagnosing the problem.

But we don't have to rely upon my intuition. We can go by Linden's own criteria for what the problem is, and what might fix it. I take it you haven't read my chapter 3 points yet. Here's another quote:

From chapter 3:

Spoiler

At the time, she had given no thought to other forms of restitution. … Nearly two years passed before she recognized the residual ache in her heart for what it was: not grief over Covenant’s death, although that pang never lost its poignancy, but rather a hollow place left by the Land. … Her work with her patients suited her abilites; but it did not satisfy the woman who had sojourned with Giants, contended with Ravers, and opposed the Sunbane at Thomas Covenant’s side.

She wanted to heal as well some of the harm which Lord Foul had done in her present world. And she needed someone to love.

In order to be whole, Linden needs to heal some of the harm which LF has done in her world, and she needs someone to love. That's her own criteria for what would make her whole. And yet she admits in chapter 1 that she fails all her patients. She's not healing the harm LF has done. And she admits (shortly after this chapter 3 quote) that her love was lost on Jeremiah, and it couldn't find him. Therefore, her need is clearly spelled out, as well as her failure to meet that need.

Yet, for each and every one you list, they seem like normal, positive, and healthy things for a "whole" person to do or think.

Having a Land-sized hole in your heart isn't a normal, positive, healthy thing for a "whole" person.

[Vraith]

Hmmm...interesting discussion, but I'm starting to think both of you are
using "suffice," in a way that would never occur to me.
To me, if something is sufficient it is basically the same as earning a paycheck
that pays for enough food that you don't starve, shelter that keeps out weather, and then all the money is gone: it suffices.
It is enough, in the survival sense, but it's small, limited, unsatisfying, hard, depressing, a bit short on meaning, unfullfilling, etc.

[Zarathustra]

I sit among the dust and hope
That dust will cover me.
I stir the ashes in the hearth,
Though cold they be.
I cannot bear to close the door,
To seal my loneliness away
While dust and ashes yet remain
Of my love’s day.

That’s pretty sick, when you think about it. She sits in the dust and hopes it covers her? Sounds like she got her wish!

Spoiler

[Is this dust “Kevin’s Dirt?!?]

It certainly “covers” her in her new life, with loneliness, inability to let go of the rusty car which took her to see Covenant for the first time, etc.

I just wanted to add this little acronym from AATE:

SWMNBN.

I hope that's vague enough not to count as a spoiler.

Also, on the issue of ARROGANCE, which was once a debated topic in this thread:

The way I see it there are two possibilities.

A: SRD thinks that Linden is perfectly content and happy the way it is and it is only some of us who disagree.

B: Linden's inability to let go and move one indicate something else, maybe some kind of pride or arrogance on her part (because it is human to make mistakes and to have emotional and physical needs); makes me think of the pride of the Haruchai and the oath of the boodguard (but maybe this is too far-fetched)

Yeah. And calling Linden arrogant because she adopted a sick child is like calling someone selfish for volunteering to work in a shelter, or like calling someone a show-off because they give to charities. In fact, it is a humble act.

One final note: I don't see arrogance yet, but I think it might be a plausible description later.

Check out page 473 in AATE.

[Skyweir]

Great work