On the subject of Reality

[rdhopeca]

Sometimes I just think that SRD did not, in the beginning, expect his readers to put this much thought into his works, and of course he didn't expect them to be published at all. We are supposed to just travel along with SRD and not venture beyond the text, because there is nothing beyond the text itself until SRD himself dreams it up.

I guess I don't see a problem with this. Wouldn't this be true of most fantasy authors? I don't necessarily see Covenant's "real" world as any more real than, say, the Earth that is one of the reflections of Amber. Or even the world where Rosenberg's characters come from, where members of other fantasy realms have come to play.

I don't see a problem with it either. But SRD's writing is different in that the "real" world in his novels, while portrayed more-or-less realistically, really isn't realistic. It is whatever SRD needs it to be at the time. He plays "fast and loose" with the logic of "reality" in order to create a more exciting and interesting experience for his readers. That is good enough for most readers, but it poses logical dilemmas for those who question it. SRD's only possible response to any of that would go something like, "It's my novel, and I can do whatever I damn well please with it!" (Not an actual quote, btw.) And in the long run, it sold well, so that proves his case at least pragmatically: he pulled off his Deux ex Machina well enough that people bought his novels in droves, his publisher was pleased, and that's all that really matters.

It becomes obvious that the Creator is SRD himself in the novels. My reasoning is backed up by the fact that at the end of the first Chronicles the Creator offered Covenant a chance to live out his remaining years in the Land. This would have meant that he dies in the "real" world. And the Creator (SRD) makes that choice become "real." But Covenant rejected his offer, maintaining his commitment to the "real" world and his leprosy:

Quote:
The voice smiled. "It is done. You will live."


This choice is made imminently clearer in the words of the doctor attending Covenant at his bedside:

Quote:
"No. Just the opposite-he's going to live. One minute he's in allergic shock, and dying from it because his body's too weak and infected and poisoned to fight back-and the next- Pulse firm, respiration regular, pupillary reactions normal, skin tone improving. I'll tell you what it is. It's a goddamn miracle, that's what it is."


We're not supposed to understand these things. It's a miracle, that is, by Deux ex Machina...

I don't find this to be Deux ex Machina. If we accept that the Creator was in our world at the beginning of the story, and has some power to affect Covenant during the transition between his world and ours, we can accept this scenario as completely plausible. I have no problem accepting this as part of the overall story, and I don't feel that the Creator is Donaldson himself as a result.

The presence of the Creator in Covenant's world, unforunately, has no other explanation. And SRD refuses to provide any such explanation as being irrelevant to his purposes. To build upon the message I just posted: it doesn't matter how the Creator got there, all that matters is that he is there.

Now, we all know that SRD puts things in his novels as he needs them, he has stated that many times in his GI. For example, he stated that Vain was invented because SRD needed him. The same could be said for the Creator. But beyond that, I would say that SRD needed him to add more plausibility to his Deux ex Machina, with the Creator acting in his place to bring Covenant back from near death in such a dramatic way. (I mean, he is literally God after all, although not necessarily the Creator of TC's world.) SRD produces excellent drama, and it would have been much less interesting but more plausible if, at the end of TPTP, Covenant had only made a very slow and difficult recovery from an illness which was touch-and-go at the time. This happens all the time, after all.

Sorry, I just can't go along with this reasoning. The whole premise of the story is that the Creator chose Covenant. In order to do that, he has to some ability to see / exist in Covenant's world. That would not necessarily violate the strictures of Covenant's world, provided they are not the same as his strictures upon the Land. You can't simply write it off as a deux ex machina from beginning to end, or that the healing at the end as some sort of "unexpected miracle", or the viewing of Mhoram's speech at Glimmermere as the same. Frankly, I found it a great way to end the story and didn't seem to me as just some lame plot device; maybe Covenant would have healed, if left alone.

[thewormoftheworld'send]

I guess I don't see a problem with this. Wouldn't this be true of most fantasy authors? I don't necessarily see Covenant's "real" world as any more real than, say, the Earth that is one of the reflections of Amber. Or even the world where Rosenberg's characters come from, where members of other fantasy realms have come to play.

I don't see a problem with it either. But SRD's writing is different in that the "real" world in his novels, while portrayed more-or-less realistically, really isn't realistic. It is whatever SRD needs it to be at the time. He plays "fast and loose" with the logic of "reality" in order to create a more exciting and interesting experience for his readers. That is good enough for most readers, but it poses logical dilemmas for those who question it. SRD's only possible response to any of that would go something like, "It's my novel, and I can do whatever I damn well please with it!" (Not an actual quote, btw.) And in the long run, it sold well, so that proves his case at least pragmatically: he pulled off his Deux ex Machina well enough that people bought his novels in droves, his publisher was pleased, and that's all that really matters.

I don't find this to be Deux ex Machina. If we accept that the Creator was in our world at the beginning of the story, and has some power to affect Covenant during the transition between his world and ours, we can accept this scenario as completely plausible. I have no problem accepting this as part of the overall story, and I don't feel that the Creator is Donaldson himself as a result.

The presence of the Creator in Covenant's world, unforunately, has no other explanation. And SRD refuses to provide any such explanation as being irrelevant to his purposes. To build upon the message I just posted: it doesn't matter how the Creator got there, all that matters is that he is there.

Now, we all know that SRD puts things in his novels as he needs them, he has stated that many times in his GI. For example, he stated that Vain was invented because SRD needed him. The same could be said for the Creator. But beyond that, I would say that SRD needed him to add more plausibility to his Deux ex Machina, with the Creator acting in his place to bring Covenant back from near death in such a dramatic way. (I mean, he is literally God after all, although not necessarily the Creator of TC's world.) SRD produces excellent drama, and it would have been much less interesting but more plausible if, at the end of TPTP, Covenant had only made a very slow and difficult recovery from an illness which was touch-and-go at the time. This happens all the time, after all.

Sorry, I just can't go along with this reasoning. The whole premise of the story is that the Creator chose Covenant. In order to do that, he has to some ability to see / exist in Covenant's world. That would not necessarily violate the strictures of Covenant's world, provided they are not the same as his strictures upon the Land. You can't simply write it off as a deux ex machina from beginning to end, or that the healing at the end as some sort of "unexpected miracle", or the viewing of Mhoram's speech at Glimmermere as the same. Frankly, I found it a great way to end the story and didn't seem to me as just some lame plot device; maybe Covenant would have healed, if left alone.

Of course the Creator has to have some ability to see/exist in Covenant's world, SRD gave him that ability, and without giving us any explanation of how this is possible. That is typical Deux ex Machina, or let's say, this makes it possible and more plausible.

[deer of the dawn]

As for why she had "no interest" in Cov's live outside the Land, I agree with "Blinky" (cute) that the more she knew, the more she felt knowable, and she wasn't ready for that (until that night on Starfare's Gem). She hadn't read his books maybe (just a wild guess here) because books about guilt and suicide maybe didn't interest her??? Anyway, it isn't as though she had time in the few days between meeting TC and being summoned to the Land.

I was talking about the time between her return from the Land at the end of WGW and the beginning of the third chronicles.

Were his books about suicide? I thought they were about dealing morally with the consequences of your actions, and not falling into guilt-fests and suicide-binges.

I can absolutely see her as wanting to maintain her memories of the man she loved as he existed in the Land, NOT as he existed prior to her meeting him. Why should she go back and read his opinions of this world, when their time in this world was not what was important to her?

The only named book was Or I Will Kill Myself For Guilt, IIRC. Not a title that would pique my interest. But where is it said that she never read his books after 2nd Chrons?

[Krazy Kat]

[from Random Quote, hompage:

(The Illearth War, Chapter 1, "The Dreams of Men")

There, lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa, was the book he had been reading the previous day. He had been reading it while he was trying to make up his mind to risk a walk into town. It was still open to a page which had had an entirely differant meaning to him just four hours ago. It said,"...modelling the incoherent and vertiginous matter of which dreams are composed was the most difficult task a man could undertake..." And on another page it said,"...the dreams of men belong to God..."
He could not bear it.]

My initial response to reading this was mind-tinglingly clear, that the old beggar man was giving him no choice in the matter, and that suicide was now not an option.
Of course, this is presuming that the book on the coffee table is the one you have mentioned.

[amanibhavam]

I was talking about the time between her return from the Land at the end of WGW and the beginning of the third chronicles.

Were his books about suicide? I thought they were about dealing morally with the consequences of your actions, and not falling into guilt-fests and suicide-binges.

I can absolutely see her as wanting to maintain her memories of the man she loved as he existed in the Land, NOT as he existed prior to her meeting him. Why should she go back and read his opinions of this world, when their time in this world was not what was important to her?

The only named book was Or I Will Kill Myself For Guilt, IIRC. Not a title that would pique my interest. But where is it said that she never read his books after 2nd Chrons?

The way I remember the title is Or I will Sell My Soul For Guilt

[shadowbinding shoe]

[from Random Quote, hompage:

(The Illearth War, Chapter 1, "The Dreams of Men")

There, lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa, was the book he had been reading the previous day. He had been reading it while he was trying to make up his mind to risk a walk into town. It was still open to a page which had had an entirely differant meaning to him just four hours ago. It said,"...modelling the incoherent and vertiginous matter of which dreams are composed was the most difficult task a man could undertake..." And on another page it said,"...the dreams of men belong to God..."
He could not bear it.]

My initial response to reading this was mind-tinglingly clear, that the old beggar man was giving him no choice in the matter, and that suicide was now not an option.

Of course, this is presuming that the book on the coffee table is the one you have mentioned.

No. This is actually a real book from our own world (making the identification of TC's as our world stronger) of short stories by Jorge Luis Borges. I haven't known it until someone told me in this forum. Real stuff for thought that paragraph.

The books Covenant writes are one completed and another uncompleted novels that sound like fantasy novels, which he writes before he becomes ill. Then he writes a couple of non fiction philosophical / ethical books in the years between the first chronicles and the second. They are based on his experiences in the Land and his life as a leper.

[Zarathustra]

Covenant's final confrontation with LF in "The Power that Preserves" *does* represent an absolute commitment--with absolutely everything at stake (for himself as well as for the Land). But that commitment is not, "Yes, the Land is real," or "No, the Land is not real." His commitment might be (crudely) paraphrased as, "I don't care whether the Land is real or not. It has become desperately important to me. In fact, it *is* me whether it exists objectively or not. And I've done terrible harm to it--as I have to myself. So I'm willing to sacrifice everything and anything, including my life, in an effort to counter that harm with affirmation."

So what is the lesson there, if any? Probably nothing.

Probably nothing? You can't be serious. I'm curious why you read these books if you think such things (a theme echoed recently in the Gap forum . . . ). The entire point of the first trilogy is "probably nothing," to you?

Covenant's problem, set up from the very beginning, is his alienation from the world, from his neighbors, and his own humanity. He is a walking paradox: simultaneously cut-off by his own self-imposed rigid Law of Leprosy (and by his fellow humans), AND desperate to end that isolation. The primary conflict of the series is his inability to access his wild magic (i.e. his passion, his will) because he doesn't want to take responsibility, to act, to decide, to feel. The Land is Hope . . . it is everything he wishes his life could be, but it is not. So (as the doctors told him), he believes that Hope is a fantasy. It is a fiction he can't afford. So it's not the Land's reality that is at issue--it's whether or not Hope is an illusion in a world where everyone is dying and people get leprosy. In the end, he finally breaks out of his self-imposed impotency and learns to love again, and he does this by ignoring the rational issue of the reality of Hope in a world where everyone is dying, but instead decides that he can choose and define what is valuable and meaningful, despite the temptation to nihilism as represented by Lord Foul.

Quote:
"No. Just the opposite-he's going to live. One minute he's in allergic shock, and dying from it because his body's too weak and infected and poisoned to fight back-and the next- Pulse firm, respiration regular, pupillary reactions normal, skin tone improving. I'll tell you what it is. It's a goddamn miracle, that's what it is."


We're not supposed to understand these things. It's a miracle, that is, by Deux ex Machina...

I think the point is that Covenant chose to live, chose to go on, and didn't choose suicide. That's the "miracle." It's not a deux ex machina--it's character development.

[thewormoftheworld'send]

Covenant's final confrontation with LF in "The Power that Preserves" *does* represent an absolute commitment--with absolutely everything at stake (for himself as well as for the Land). But that commitment is not, "Yes, the Land is real," or "No, the Land is not real." His commitment might be (crudely) paraphrased as, "I don't care whether the Land is real or not. It has become desperately important to me. In fact, it *is* me whether it exists objectively or not. And I've done terrible harm to it--as I have to myself. So I'm willing to sacrifice everything and anything, including my life, in an effort to counter that harm with affirmation."

So what is the lesson there, if any? Probably nothing.

Probably nothing? You can't be serious. I'm curious why you read these books if you think such things (a theme echoed recently in the Gap forum . . . ). The entire point of the first trilogy is "probably nothing," to you?

Am I that dogmatic? I changed my mind about TRS, thanks to your help. Now we can discuss this issue, and maybe I'll change my mind again.

The theme of the first Chronicles was redemption. The theme of TRS was redemption. It is a thread running through SRD's novels.

I have an idea for the present example too, but I'll read on and see what you think...

Covenant's problem, set up from the very beginning, is his alienation from the world, from his neighbors, and his own humanity. He is a walking paradox: simultaneously cut-off by his own self-imposed rigid Law of Leprosy (and by his fellow humans), AND desperate to end that isolation. The primary conflict of the series is his inability to access his wild magic (i.e. his passion, his will) because he doesn't want to take responsibility, to act, to decide, to feel. The Land is Hope . . . it is everything he wishes his life could be, but it is not. So (as the doctors told him), he believes that Hope is a fantasy. It is a fiction he can't afford. So it's not the Land's reality that is at issue--it's whether or not Hope is an illusion in a world where everyone is dying and people get leprosy. In the end, he finally breaks out of his self-imposed impotency and learns to love again, and he does this by ignoring the rational issue of the reality of Hope in a world where everyone is dying, but instead decides that he can choose and define what is valuable and meaningful, despite the temptation to nihilism as represented by Lord Foul.

Quote:
"No. Just the opposite-he's going to live. One minute he's in allergic shock, and dying from it because his body's too weak and infected and poisoned to fight back-and the next- Pulse firm, respiration regular, pupillary reactions normal, skin tone improving. I'll tell you what it is. It's a goddamn miracle, that's what it is."


We're not supposed to understand these things. It's a miracle, that is, by Deux ex Machina...

I think the point is that Covenant chose to live, chose to go on, and didn't choose suicide. That's the "miracle." It's not a deux ex machina--it's character development.

The answer was left ambiguous by SRD so you don't know that. We don't know if it was a Miracle (big M) or a "miracle," something we know happens in such situations and may have something to do with finding the will to live. In this way, SRD blurs the distinction between dreams and reality.

My idea is that SRD literally put a god in the machine - the Creator (or is he just a crazy old man in an ochre robe? that's ambiguous too) - in order to make his deux ex machina plausible. I'm not denying there was character development, that's part of what a plot-line is all about. Covenant learned that he can believe in two things at the same time - the Land and his leprosy ("nevertheless - still") - without contradiction. Then - the Creator apparently brought Covenant back from the brink of death. Or did He? That's a disguised deux ex machina, a contrivance used to make the ambiguity possible.

----------

Even if you're right, my point stands: there is no lesson to be learned from TC's sudden revival. There is only the lesson learned from his experiences in the Land: that what you do in dreams says something about your innermost character. I have made a similar point in other contexts: pain is pain, and it's real whether you're dreaming it or not. The emotional pain TC felt in his dream overcame his Unbelief just enough to enable him to pursue a middle course. He may not have believed in the Land - this is irrelevant - but he did believe in his pain, and he wanted it to end. And the only way he could end it was by bringing Foul's Creche down around his ears.

-----------

Is he the Creator, or is he just a crazy old man in an ochre robe? The answer is - it doesn't matter. Dreams, illusions, fantasy, can be just as potent a source of lessons as reality. After all, novels themselves are really only fantasy, but they contain lessons. Was TC's sudden revival a matter of character development, or was it a Miracle caused by the Creator? once again - it doesn't matter.

So perhaps I am mistaken in a way. There is no lesson in itself to be gained from TC's revival. However, there is a lesson to be learned from the ambiguity surrounding it. And if you dismiss this ambiguity, explaining it away in terms of one or the other, then you have lost the lesson.

--------------

The Land is Hope . . . it is everything he wishes his life could be, but it is not. So (as the doctors told him), he believes that Hope is a fantasy. It is a fiction he can't afford. So it's not the Land's reality that is at issue--it's whether or not Hope is an illusion in a world where everyone is dying and people get leprosy. In the end, he finally breaks out of his self-imposed impotency and learns to love again, and he does this by ignoring the rational issue of the reality of Hope in a world where everyone is dying, but instead decides that he can choose and define what is valuable and meaningful, despite the temptation to nihilism as represented by Lord Foul.

TC can write the Land off as an illusion, but what he cannot do is write it off as unimportant to him. If TC learned to love again, it was because of his daughter Elena. Elena, and the Land, became such important illusions to him that if he betrayed them, and thus failed at his own redemption, then he would not have been able to continue on with his leprosy lifestyle in the "real" world, he would have lost the will to live. He probably would have died in the hospital bed.

So I can see your point there. However, since it was the Creator (who may or may not exist) who promised to give TC's life back, it is still left ambiguous whether or not his revival was the result of his newfound hope or a real Miracle. And, more importantly, it must remain ambiguous in order for the lesson to remain. And that lesson is: it doesn't matter if the Land is real or not, it doesn't matter if the Creator is real or not, it doesn't matter if TC's will or character development was involved in his own revival or not. What matters is that dreams can be an important source of knowledge about yourself, and what you do in dreams is very revealing of your character because there seems to be no consequences. There were emotional consequences nevertheless, and the pain felt in dreams is just as real and as important to him as pain felt in reality. It can even influence decisions he makes in the "real" world, decisions which can cost him his life, as when TC stopped doing his rituals and then nearly died from an antivenin reaction.

<mod edit: technically, a mod can't merge posts. threads, yes, but not posts. not any more than the user can, anyway. just edited and pasted. no problem, just so you know>

[Zarathustra]

I was explicitly thinking of the Creator, the Despiser, and wild magic as aspects of Covenant himself. And the part of himself which he denies--wild magic, his own personal power to assign meaning to his life and experiences--is the part which must mediate his internal conflicts (the struggle between the creative and destructive sides of his nature).
(04/27/2004)

While this probably shouldn't be used to imply that the Creator is definitively, literally, a part of Covenant's psyche within the context of the story itself, it makes it clear Donaldson's intentions at least on the symbolic level. I think any interpretation which comes down on the side of God saving Covenant through Grace ignores the intentions of this author, and indeed, his conception epic fantasy literature (which he views as a stage for characters to confront parts of themselves externalized).

[thewormoftheworld'send]

I was explicitly thinking of the Creator, the Despiser, and wild magic as aspects of Covenant himself. And the part of himself which he denies--wild magic, his own personal power to assign meaning to his life and experiences--is the part which must mediate his internal conflicts (the struggle between the creative and destructive sides of his nature).
(04/27/2004)

While this probably shouldn't be used to imply that the Creator is definitively, literally, a part of Covenant's psyche within the context of the story itself, it makes it clear Donaldson's intentions at least on the symbolic level. I think any interpretation which comes down on the side of God saving Covenant through Grace ignores the intentions of this author, and indeed, his conception epic fantasy literature (which he views as a stage for characters to confront parts of themselves externalized).

I have seen this as part of SRD's methodology before, even if what he actually writes is left ambiguous. There is this Jungian subtext.

www.iloveulove.com/psychology/jung/jungarchetypes.htm

Dreams and myths are constellations of archetypal images. They are not free compositions by an artist who plans them for artistic or informational effects. Dreams and myths happen to human beings. The archetype speaks through us. It is a presence and a possibility of "significance." The ancients called them "gods" and "goddesses."

Thus, "the dreams of men ; belong to God."

However, whether or not the old man in the ochre robe is the Creator is left ambiguous in the novels, and he was not part of TC's psyche. And really, it spoils the lesson for him to say that the Creator doesn't exist except as an archetype. But the fact is, not everything mysterious that happens in the novels is part of TC's psyche.

I do appreciate the fact that your tendency is to analyze things. I wouldn't want to deny to SRD's great works any aspect of their being literature. There is no doubt that they are.

[rdhopeca]

There is no lesson in itself to be gained from TC's revival. However, there is a lesson to be learned from the ambiguity surrounding it. And if you dismiss this ambiguity, explaining it away in terms of one or the other, then you have lost the lesson.

I think there is a lesson to be learned from his revival, regardless of the mechanism by which it is achieved.

The lesson is, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how much pain and suffering, once you have accomplished saving what you love, it is still preferable to choose to live rather than die when given the choice, even if living still means loneliness and isolation. Remember that by the time the 2nd chronicles rolls around he's reintegrated himself to a large degree, as much as he is able to. After so long wanting to die, he chose life. That's a great lesson, whether the Creator helped him to live or not, and irrespective of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions.

[thewormoftheworld'send]

There is no lesson in itself to be gained from TC's revival. However, there is a lesson to be learned from the ambiguity surrounding it. And if you dismiss this ambiguity, explaining it away in terms of one or the other, then you have lost the lesson.

I think there is a lesson to be learned from his revival, regardless of the mechanism by which it is achieved.

The lesson is, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how much pain and suffering, once you have accomplished saving what you love, it is still preferable to choose to live rather than die when given the choice, even if living still means loneliness and isolation. Remember that by the time the 2nd chronicles rolls around he's reintegrated himself to a large degree, as much as he is able to. After so long wanting to die, he chose life. That's a great lesson, whether the Creator helped him to live or not, and irrespective of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions.

On that level there is TC's sacrificing himself to save the Land, and as a reward he chose to regain his life in the "real" world. But let's not forget that this real life is centered around leprosy as a sort of religion: secularly, TC has to be religious about leprosy in order to survive. Covenant chose leprosy, he chose his "reality," he maintained steadfast in his commitment. And the white gold wedding band symbolizes commitment: the circularity of it represents eternity, the whiteness of it represents purity. TC remained true to himself. "You are the white gold."

[rdhopeca]

There is no lesson in itself to be gained from TC's revival. However, there is a lesson to be learned from the ambiguity surrounding it. And if you dismiss this ambiguity, explaining it away in terms of one or the other, then you have lost the lesson.

I think there is a lesson to be learned from his revival, regardless of the mechanism by which it is achieved.

The lesson is, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how much pain and suffering, once you have accomplished saving what you love, it is still preferable to choose to live rather than die when given the choice, even if living still means loneliness and isolation. Remember that by the time the 2nd chronicles rolls around he's reintegrated himself to a large degree, as much as he is able to. After so long wanting to die, he chose life. That's a great lesson, whether the Creator helped him to live or not, and irrespective of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions.

On that level there is TC's sacrificing himself to save the Land, and as a reward he chose to regain his life in the "real" world. But let's not forget that this real life is centered around leprosy as a sort of religion: secularly, TC has to be religious about leprosy in order to survive. Covenant chose leprosy, he chose his "reality," he maintained steadfast in his commitment. And the white gold wedding band symbolizes commitment: the circularity of it represents eternity, the whiteness of it represents purity. TC remained true to himself. "You are the white gold."

I am thoroughly confused by your posts. How do you say that there is no lesson to be learned, then I bring one up, then you expand on what I have said?

Nothing personal, but I just can't follow your thought process from one post to another. I'm certain it's my fault, I am just missing something.

[thewormoftheworld'send]

I think there is a lesson to be learned from his revival, regardless of the mechanism by which it is achieved.

The lesson is, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how much pain and suffering, once you have accomplished saving what you love, it is still preferable to choose to live rather than die when given the choice, even if living still means loneliness and isolation. Remember that by the time the 2nd chronicles rolls around he's reintegrated himself to a large degree, as much as he is able to. After so long wanting to die, he chose life. That's a great lesson, whether the Creator helped him to live or not, and irrespective of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions.

On that level there is TC's sacrificing himself to save the Land, and as a reward he chose to regain his life in the "real" world. But let's not forget that this real life is centered around leprosy as a sort of religion: secularly, TC has to be religious about leprosy in order to survive. Covenant chose leprosy, he chose his "reality," he maintained steadfast in his commitment. And the white gold wedding band symbolizes commitment: the circularity of it represents eternity, the whiteness of it represents purity. TC remained true to himself. "You are the white gold."

I am thoroughly confused by your posts. How do you say that there is no lesson to be learned, then I bring one up, then you expand on what I have said?

Nothing personal, but I just can't follow your thought process from one post to another. I'm certain it's my fault, I am just missing something.

Your present point talks past my original one. I had said that if you lose the ambiguity then you lose the lesson, another lesson and not this one. You did mention ambiguity, but it wasn't the context I was talking about.
I had made no mention of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions. I am saying that whether or not the Creator is a dream or a reality is left ambiguous; whether TC revived himself or had the assistance of a divine being is left ambiguous. Then someone may be tempted to try to discern the truth of the matter and dispel the ambiguity. But the truth is, the answer doesn't matter. An answer dispels the mystery - but also the lesson to be learned. That lesson has to do with the reality of pain, guilt, and love, and the fact that the Land lends its influence through these powerful emotions whether the Land is real or not. And as a result, "TC can write the Land off as an illusion, but what he cannot do is write it off as unimportant to him."

I'm sure you brought up a valid point because I did build upon it. I'm just saying that it talks past the present one.

Does that help?

[rdhopeca]

On that level there is TC's sacrificing himself to save the Land, and as a reward he chose to regain his life in the "real" world. But let's not forget that this real life is centered around leprosy as a sort of religion: secularly, TC has to be religious about leprosy in order to survive. Covenant chose leprosy, he chose his "reality," he maintained steadfast in his commitment. And the white gold wedding band symbolizes commitment: the circularity of it represents eternity, the whiteness of it represents purity. TC remained true to himself. "You are the white gold."

I am thoroughly confused by your posts. How do you say that there is no lesson to be learned, then I bring one up, then you expand on what I have said?

Nothing personal, but I just can't follow your thought process from one post to another. I'm certain it's my fault, I am just missing something.

Your present point talks past my original one. I had said that if you lose the ambiguity then you lose the lesson, another lesson and not this one. You did mention ambiguity, but it wasn't the context I was talking about.
I had made no mention of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions. I am saying that whether or not the Creator is a dream or a reality is left ambiguous; whether TC revived himself or had the assistance of a divine being is left ambiguous. Then someone may be tempted to try to discern the truth of the matter and dispel the ambiguity. But the truth is, the answer doesn't matter. An answer dispels the mystery - but also the lesson to be learned. That lesson has to do with the reality of pain, guilt, and love, and the fact that the Land lends its influence through these powerful emotions whether the Land is real or not. And as a result, "TC can write the Land off as an illusion, but what he cannot do is write it off as unimportant to him."

I'm sure you brought up a valid point because I did build upon it. I'm just saying that it talks past the present one.

Does that help?

Not really. I fail to see how I was talking past anything, but beyond that, this got way too deep for me. I tend to simplify things, as I pointed out.

[thewormoftheworld'send]

I am thoroughly confused by your posts. How do you say that there is no lesson to be learned, then I bring one up, then you expand on what I have said?

Nothing personal, but I just can't follow your thought process from one post to another. I'm certain it's my fault, I am just missing something.

Your present point talks past my original one. I had said that if you lose the ambiguity then you lose the lesson, another lesson and not this one. You did mention ambiguity, but it wasn't the context I was talking about.
I had made no mention of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions. I am saying that whether or not the Creator is a dream or a reality is left ambiguous; whether TC revived himself or had the assistance of a divine being is left ambiguous. Then someone may be tempted to try to discern the truth of the matter and dispel the ambiguity. But the truth is, the answer doesn't matter. An answer dispels the mystery - but also the lesson to be learned. That lesson has to do with the reality of pain, guilt, and love, and the fact that the Land lends its influence through these powerful emotions whether the Land is real or not. And as a result, "TC can write the Land off as an illusion, but what he cannot do is write it off as unimportant to him."

I'm sure you brought up a valid point because I did build upon it. I'm just saying that it talks past the present one.

Does that help?

Not really. I fail to see how I was talking past anything, but beyond that, this got way too deep for me. I tend to simplify things, as I pointed out.

So do I, but I don't want the basic structure of the series to be lost as a result. When TC chose life, he chose leprosy and social isolation in the "real" world over living out his life in the Land as a hero and with his health restored to him. That's an important distinction not to be simplified away.

And it's a completely different point, but one worth making as long as you flesh it out to a certain point.

Now, was TC's choosing to live in the real world a dream or a reality? That's the point where the ambiguity comes into play.

[rdhopeca]

Your present point talks past my original one. I had said that if you lose the ambiguity then you lose the lesson, another lesson and not this one. You did mention ambiguity, but it wasn't the context I was talking about.
I had made no mention of any ambiguity surrounding the Creator's actions. I am saying that whether or not the Creator is a dream or a reality is left ambiguous; whether TC revived himself or had the assistance of a divine being is left ambiguous. Then someone may be tempted to try to discern the truth of the matter and dispel the ambiguity. But the truth is, the answer doesn't matter. An answer dispels the mystery - but also the lesson to be learned. That lesson has to do with the reality of pain, guilt, and love, and the fact that the Land lends its influence through these powerful emotions whether the Land is real or not. And as a result, "TC can write the Land off as an illusion, but what he cannot do is write it off as unimportant to him."

I'm sure you brought up a valid point because I did build upon it. I'm just saying that it talks past the present one.

Does that help?

Not really. I fail to see how I was talking past anything, but beyond that, this got way too deep for me. I tend to simplify things, as I pointed out.

So do I, but I don't want the basic structure of the series to be lost as a result. When TC chose life, he chose leprosy and social isolation in the "real" world over living out his life in the Land as a hero and with his health restored to him. That's an important distinction not to be simplified away.

And it's a completely different point, but one worth making as long as you flesh it out to a certain point.

Now, was TC's choosing to live in the real world a dream or a reality? That's the point where the ambiguity comes into play.

I wasn't simplifying that away. I was merely pointing out that that act, in itself, had a lesson to it. Not just the amibiguity surrounding the act itself. And I certainly don't have to flesh it out any more than I did, I think it stands just fine on its own, IMO.

[thewormoftheworld'send]

I wasn't simplifying that away. I was merely pointing out that that act, in itself, had a lesson to it. Not just the amibiguity surrounding the act itself. And I certainly don't have to flesh it out any more than I did, I think it stands just fine on its own, IMO.

Your original conclusion was:

"After so long wanting to die, he chose life."

While true, does anybody else here see that as giving recognition to the fact that TC chose to live in the "real" world and not the Land? It's an affirmation of life, no doubt - but also, in terms of the story, of his leprosy and social isolation. What kind of life is that, versus living out his remaining years in the beauty and health of the Land and as a figure of heroic stature?

And you didn't say if you understood my original point yet.

[rdhopeca]

I wasn't simplifying that away. I was merely pointing out that that act, in itself, had a lesson to it. Not just the amibiguity surrounding the act itself. And I certainly don't have to flesh it out any more than I did, I think it stands just fine on its own, IMO.

Your original conclusion was:

"After so long wanting to die, he chose life."

While true, does anybody else here see that as giving recognition to the fact that TC chose to live in the "real" world and not the Land? It's an affirmation of life, no doubt - but also, in terms of the story, of his leprosy and social isolation. What kind of life is that, versus living out his remaining years in the beauty and health of the Land and as a figure of heroic stature?

And you didn't say if you understood my original point yet.

I understand your original point, and FWIW, don't really agree with it. However, the way you present your points generally don't make sense to me, which is part of the problem.

[thewormoftheworld'send]

I wasn't simplifying that away. I was merely pointing out that that act, in itself, had a lesson to it. Not just the amibiguity surrounding the act itself. And I certainly don't have to flesh it out any more than I did, I think it stands just fine on its own, IMO.

Your original conclusion was:

"After so long wanting to die, he chose life."

While true, does anybody else here see that as giving recognition to the fact that TC chose to live in the "real" world and not the Land? It's an affirmation of life, no doubt - but also, in terms of the story, of his leprosy and social isolation. What kind of life is that, versus living out his remaining years in the beauty and health of the Land and as a figure of heroic stature?

And you didn't say if you understood my original point yet.

I understand your original point, and FWIW, don't really agree with it.

That's still progress.

However, the way you present your points generally don't make sense to me, which is part of the problem.

So it's my fault. And anyway, this is the internet after all so this is better than what I expected.