Yes, exactly. Not only do we have the analogy of our own experience with creation myths, we also know that Donaldson's images and metaphors have been doing double-duty since the beginning, when Foul was both a distinct charcter, and the externalized representation of Covenant's self-despite ... (and hence, our own as well ... triple duty).Vraith wrote:I see the actual Worm and the Myth of the Worm much like our versions of "The Flood" or Achilles and Troy and such, only elevated. There is a blending of the real/historical/factual and the symbolic/metaphysical/meaningful, much as in our world, only more tightly woven/interpenetrating.
I guess I just don't see the problem here. He's been telling us since the 80s that whether or not this stuff is literally real misses the point. I think that means that the "point" is larger than either reductionistic tactic--in other words picking A) "real" over "dream" and thereby reducing everything in the Land, even magic, to the mundane level of literal truth, or picking B) "dream" over "real" and thereby reducing everything in the Land to pure symbol with only an ambiguous, contrived, and metaphorical connection to reality. As Vraith said in another thread, the primary conflict or problematic here has always been the interplay between the Ideal and the Real. The reason you can't say one or the other is the only correct interpretation is because of the interplay between them, how we know the Ideal by its participation in the Real. (You might substitute "universals and particulars," if you prefer saying the same thing in more familiar terms.)
In another thread, I wrote:....the language here is ... taking something mundane (dawn) and seeing it through the lense of the miraculous--both the miraculous that was always there, inherent in this glorious event, and the miraculous of what makes this particular dawn literally catastrophic: the coming of the Worm. Its approach has blotted out the sun, but the sun's glow is still there, and has blotted out the stars.
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The return of the sun is the affirmation of hope, renewal, a new beginning. The transition from the spiritual/heavenly/dream world of the Night back into the brightness of the everyday mundane world of Day is both comforting and normalizing. The dimensions of reality ease back into smaller, more familiar, brighter, easier to grasp scope. [But if you've ever watched it happen with the same attention you might give a sunset, you'll notice exactly what Donaldson describes here ....]
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This day-without-a-dawn image is a classic staple of fantasy, right back to The Return of the King when Sauron sends forth his smokes and fumes to cover the land with darkness. Since the return of day is the return of the normal and the mundane--the fulfillment of the vague promise that the future will always be like the past--anything which disrupts this cycle calls our attention back to the largest scale of our existence, that scope which is revealed at night when we can literally see to the ends of the universe. The disruption of Future's Promise, the intrusion of the "spiritual" upon the mundane, and the expansion of reality to its largest scale, all combine to show us how illusory our complacency and self-imposed limits really are. We really don't have any assurance that the future will be like the past, nor is there anything about this world that is truly normal and mundane. The limits we enjoy during the day, which shrink reality down to a managable scope, are just subjective ways to make sense of the Void.