Erikson Passages [possible spoilers]

[lucimay]

everyone who's read him has SOMEthing to say about Erikson's writing.
you can do it here. whether its to villify or deify.

i love the guys writing personally.

so Marvinous Tazz, Brinn, Aliantha, Syl, VS, Sorus, Duchess, Murrin, and whoever else; post me some quotes.


i liked this scene right well. the Mhybe and her pain.

"So very true, that. I understand it well, you see. He was called upon by the Elder God - who either chose to become involved or was so already. An abomination had been created, as Kallor has called it, and it was an abomination in fact. The withered corpse of Nightchill, Tattersail's soul trapped within it, the apparition webbed by T'lan Imass sorcery. A nightmare creation. The Elder God sought to save it, somehow, in some form, and for that it seemed he needed Kruppe. Thus. The Daru did all he could, believing it to be a mercy. But make no mistake, now Korlat. Krupp and his Elder God have decided to make use of the child they fashioned. Opportunistic or deliberate from the start? Does it matter? An lo, Kruppe now walks with Silverfox. Do they conspire? Am I blind..."

"Conspire? To what end, Mhybe?"
"You don't know? I find that hard to believe."
"Clearly, you have concluded we are all conspiring...against you."
"Aren't you?" With all the strength she could muster, the Mhybe flung the bowl away, heard it splash, bounce off something, heard a shout of surprise from Murillio, who - it seemed - had the misfortune to be in its pathe of flight. "Guard me!" she hissed. "Feed me! Watch me so I don't take my own life! And this is not a conspiracy? And my daughter - my own daughter - does she visit? No! When have I last seen her face? When? I can barely remember the time!"

The hand tightened on her shoulder. Korlat's voice, shen she spoke, was low yet taut. "I hear you, my friend. I shall get to the bottom of this. I shall discover the truth, and then I shall tell you. This I promise, Mhybe."
- Memories of Ice, chpt 15

[Sorus]

Great thread, and excellent passage. I'll post some later, it's a hard choice at the moment! (Sooo many good passages...)

[Spiral Jacobs]

Agreed, I'll try and find a good one. Hard work probably, I may have to read the books again

[Cole]

I have a couple from MOI but the book isn't with me at the moment. Not spectacular passages but stuff that just made an impression.

[Spiral Jacobs]

Benediction. Godless, he could not give it. Not in its truest form.
But he had not comprehended the vast capacity within him, within a mortal soul, to take within itself the suffering of tens of thousands, the multitudes who had lived with loss and pain for almost three hundred thousand years.
He saw faces, countless faces. Dessicated, eyes nothing more than shadowed pits. Dry, torn skin. He saw bone glimmering from between layers of root-like tendons and muscles. He saw hands, chipped, splintered, empty now - yet the ghost of swords lingered there still.
He was on his knees, looking out upon their ranks, and it was raining, a wavering deluge accompanied by reverberating groans, splintering cracks filling the darkness above.
He looked upon them, and they were motionless, heads bowed.
Yet he could see their faces. Each face. Every face.
I have your pain.

MoI, p. 1129

[lucimay]

(note to spiral jacobs - i believe there are at least TWO scowls on this page!! LOL!)

Coltaine, his face gaunt and lined with exhaustion, strode down to where Duiker, Nether, and Gesler waited near the awning. Behind the Fist came Bult, captains Lull and Sulmar, Corporal List and the warlocks Sormo and Nil.
Lull strode up to Gesler.
The marine corporal scowled. 'You ain't as pretty as I remembered, sir.'
'I know you by reputation, Gesler. Once a captain, then a sergeant, now a corporal. You've got your boots to the sky on the ladder-'
'And head in the horseshit, aye, sir.'
'Two left in your squad?'
'Well, one officially, sir. The lad's sort of a recruit, though not properly inducted, like. So, just me and Stormy, sir.'
'Stormy? Not Cartheron Fist's Adjutant Stormy--'
'Once upon a time.'
'Hood's breath!' Lull swung to Coltaine. 'Fist, we've got two of the Emperor's Old Guard here...as Coastal Marines.'
'It was a quiet posting, sir, until the uprising, anyway.'
Lull loosed his helm strap, pulled the helm from his head and ran a hand throught sparse, sweat-plastered hair. He faced Gesler again. 'Call your lad forward, Corporal.'
Gesler beckoned and Truth stepped into view.
Lull scowled. 'You're now officially in the Marines, lad.'
Truth saluted, thumb pulled in and pinnning the little finger.
Bult snorted. Captain Lull's scowl deepened. 'Where-oh, don't bother.' He addressed Gesler again. 'As for you and Stormy-'
"If you promote us, sir, I will punch you in what's left of your face. And Stormy will likely kick you while you're down. Sir.' Gesler then smiled.
Bult pushed past Lull and stood face to face with the corporal, their noses almost touching. 'And, Corporal,' the commander hissed, 'would you punch me as well?'
Gesler's smile did not waver. 'Yes, sir. And Hood take me, I'll give the Fist's crack-thong a yank too, if you ask sweetly.'
There was a moment of dead silence.
Coltaine burst out laughing. The shock of it brought Duiker and the others around to stare at the Wickan.
Muttering his disbelief, Bult stepped back from Gesler, met the historian's eyes and simply shook his head.
Coltain's laughter set the dogs to wild howling, the animals suddenly close and swarming about like pallid ghosts.
Animated for the first time and still laughing, Coltaine spun to the corporal. 'And what would Cartheron Crust have said to that, soldier?'
'He'd have punched me in the--'
Gesler got no further as Coltaine's fist lashed out and caught the corporal flush on the nose. The marine's head snapped back, his feet leaving the ground. He fell on his back with a heavy thud. Coltaine wheeled around, clutching his hand as if he'd just connected with a stone wall.
Sormo stepped forward and grasped the Fist's wrist to examine the hand. 'Spirits below, it's shattered!'
All eyes swung to the supine corporal, who now sat up, blood gushing from his nose.
Both Nil and Nether hissed, lurching back from the man. Duiker grasped Nether's shoulder and pulled her around. 'What is it, lass? What's wrong-'
Nil answered, his voice a whisper. 'That blood--that man has almost ascended!'
Gesler did not hear the comment. His gaze was on Coltaine. 'I guess I'll take that promotion now, Fist.' he said through split lips.

[Sorus]

Warrens. It occurred to Seren Pedac, much later, that they
were a thing not easily defined, yet simply understood.
Forces of nature, proclivities and patterns. Corlo's
explanations had worked to illuminate for her those mostly
hidden forces, somewhat, but in the end it was the
knowledge already within her that offered revelation.
In a simplistic world, four elements are commonly
identified, and things are left at that. As if the universe
could be confined to four observable, opposite
manifestations. But Corlo had mentioned others, and once that
notion was accepted, then it was as if the world opened out,
as if new colours rose sudden and startling in their terrible
beauty.
Time was such an element, she now believed. The
stretch of existence between events, consisting of countless
other events, all strung together in complex patterns of
cause and effect, all laid out like images sewn into a
tapestry, creating a sequence of scenes that, once one stood
back, was revealed to be co-existing. Present all at once.
She had been repeating scenes. A grim realization.
Repeating scenes for most of her life. She had imposed her
own pattern, bereft of nuance, and had viewed her despair
as a legitimate response, perhaps the only legitimate
response. A conceit of being intelligent, almost preternaturally
aware of the multitude of perspectives that was
possible in all things. And that had been the trap, all along,
the sorcerous incantation called grief, her invitation to the
demons of self-recrimination, reappearing again and again
on that tapestry - different scenes, the same leering faces.
Unraveling the ritual had proved frighteningly easy, like
pulling a single thread. If it had been Corlo's work, then he
had been subtle beyond belief, for it seemed that the
effort was entirely her own. He had sat across from her,
there in the glade they'd found thirty paces from the trail,
his expression both relaxed and watchful, and, oddly
enough, she had felt no shame in weeping in front of him.
Iron Bars had begun pacing restlessly, but his motion
stilled when her first tears arrived, and eventually she
found herself in the half-embrace of one of his arms, her
face pressed against his neck.
It might have been sordid, under other circumstances.
The critical part of herself could well have sneered at the
contrivance, as if the only genuine gestures were the small
ones, the ones devoid of an audience. As if true honesty
belonged to solitude, since to be witnessed was to perform,
and performance was inherently false since it invited
expectation.

There were a good number of passages in MT that stuck with me for a long time after reading them, but I actually put the book down for about a month after reading that scene.

That scene affected me in much the same way as reading the Gap Cycle for the first time - understanding that everyone has irrevocable darkness in their past, understanding that it will rule you if you don't accept it and move on. Understanding that every event in your life is part of a puzzle, accepting that all the pieces are required to make it whole.

[lucimay]

thanks Sorus. great passage.

there are just so damn MANY of these great moments in the Malazan books. i hope people will read some of the ones we post here and get turned on to it.

[Farm Ur-Ted]

Here's my favorite, just read it last night (from GotM, Ch. 16 p. 469):

The warrior fell on top of him. A knife blade slid against the line of Paran's jaw, sliced through the helmet strap. The iron skullcap was pulled away and fingers snagged a handful of his hair. Dragging the warrior with him, Paran pushed himself upright. He'd had enough. Death was one thing, death without dignity quite another. As the Rhivi's hand twisted, pulling his head up, the captain reached between the warrior's legs and found his own handful. He yanked hard.

[Farm Ur-Ted]

Ok, here's a passage I found funny from D-Gates (p. 391). It's just after Felisin and Co. get off of the weird ship/warren after being attacked by a dragon.

That dragon's warren," Herboric said, "what was it?"
"Damned if I know," Kulp admitted....

I thought it was hilarious because I had the same reaction to the previous 10 pages or so. I have no idea what the hell was going on.