The Power That Preserves, Chapter 8: Winter
Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2003 5:51 pm
The Power that Preserves, Chapter 8, Winter:
This is what I refer to as a “traveling” or a “transitional” chapter; where as it is one that takes us from one event to another. Yet, it is usually through these chapters that we get more insight into Covenant’s psyche. This one doesn’t disappoint, one minute we are raging at Covenant because of his gross insensitivity, then the next he redeems himself by doing something so selfless and heartfelt that we feel tears forming in our eyes. I have always marveled at the way Donaldson makes us love and hate Covenant at the same time.
It begins with Covenant, Foamfollower and Lena leaving Mithil Stonedown in a snowstorm, their ultimate destination: Foul’s Creche. Lena, seeing that Covenant is still injured and not fully healed from his “real life” wounds, is struggling to keep pace. She suggests that he call the Ranyhyn to bare them. He, of course refuses, because of his “bargain” he had made 47 years earlier. He does something then that makes me want to scream every time I read it.
This is what I refer to as a “traveling” or a “transitional” chapter; where as it is one that takes us from one event to another. Yet, it is usually through these chapters that we get more insight into Covenant’s psyche. This one doesn’t disappoint, one minute we are raging at Covenant because of his gross insensitivity, then the next he redeems himself by doing something so selfless and heartfelt that we feel tears forming in our eyes. I have always marveled at the way Donaldson makes us love and hate Covenant at the same time.
It begins with Covenant, Foamfollower and Lena leaving Mithil Stonedown in a snowstorm, their ultimate destination: Foul’s Creche. Lena, seeing that Covenant is still injured and not fully healed from his “real life” wounds, is struggling to keep pace. She suggests that he call the Ranyhyn to bare them. He, of course refuses, because of his “bargain” he had made 47 years earlier. He does something then that makes me want to scream every time I read it.
And if that wasn’t enough to get me “raving” at him, he goes and does this:Her eyes had left his face, and now she fell silent as if she had forgotten why she was speaking. But when she raised her head, Covenant saw that her old face was full of tears. “Oh my dear one,“ she said softly, “you are weak and in pain. Summon the Ranyhyn and ride them as you deserve.”
“No, Lena.” He could no accept the kind of help the Ranyhyn would give him. He reached out and awkwardly brushed at her tears. His fingers felt nothing. “I made a bad bargain with them. I’ve made nothing but bad bargains.”
“Bad?” She asked as if he amazed her. “You are Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever. How could any doing of yours be bad?”
Because it let me commit crimes.
But he could not say that aloud either. He reacted instead as if she had struck the touchstone of his fury.
“Listen, I don’t know who you think I am these days; maybe you’ve still got Berek Halfhand on the brain. But I’m not him—I’m not any kind of hero. I’m nothing but a broken-down leper, and I’m doing this because I’ve had it up to here with being pushed around. With or without your company I’m going to start getting even regardless of any misbegotten whatever that tries to get in my way. I’m going to do it my own way. If you don’t want to walk, you can go home.”
Foamfollower, of course, responds with his characteristic Giantish sympathy:Before she had a chance to respond, he turned away from her in shame, and found Foamfollower standing sadly beside him. “And that’s another thing,” he went on almost without a pause. “I have also had it with your confounded misery. Either tell me the truth about what’s happened to you or stop sniveling.” He emphasized his last two words by grabbing treasure berries from the Giant’s open hands. “Hell and blood! I’m sick to death of this whole thing.”
In this chapter also, Covenant begins to realize that his Land-sense has not fully returned to him. Foul’s unnatural winter has reduced his “vision”.”Ah my friend,” Foamfollower breathed. “This way that you have found for yourself is a cataract. I have felt it in myself. It will bear you to the edge in a rush and hurl you into abysses from which there is no recovery.”
Yet, the most powerful part of this chapter brought tears to my eyes, as many parts of all the books have. But, here, after the harsh words that had me so disgusted with Covenant that I wanted to strangle him, he goes and does this when Lena suggests that they marry.For a time, the fact surpassed Covenant’s comprehension. He tested—yes, he could see the interminable corruption eating its ill way toward his wrists, toward his heart. He could smell the potential gangrene in his feet. He could feel the vestiges of poison in his lip, the residual fever in his forehead. He could see hints of Lena’s age, Foamfollower’s sorrow. He could taste the malevolence which hurled this winter across the Land—that he could perceive without question. And he had surely seen the ill in the marauders at Mithil Stonedown.
But that was no feat; their wrong was written on them so legibly that even a child could read it. Everything else was essentially closed to him. He could not discern Foamfollower’s spirit, or Lena’s confusion, or the snow’s falseness. The stubbornness which should have been apparent in the rocky hillsides above him was invisible. Even this rare gift which the Land had twice given him was half denied him now.
“Foamfollower.” He could hardly refrain from moaning. “It’s not coming back. I can’t—this winter—it’s not coming back.”
“Softly, my friend. I hear you. I”—a wry smile bent his lips—“I have seen what effect this winter has upon you. Perhaps I should be grateful that you cannot behold its effect upon me.”
“What effect?” Covenant croaked.
Foamfollower shrugged as if to deprecate his own plight. “At times—when I have been too long unsheltered in this wind—I find I cannot remember certain precious Giantish tales. My friend, Giants do not forget stories.”
“Hell and blood.”
The chapter ends with Bannor coming upon them on the edge of the Plains of Ra, accompanied by Ramen."Covenant--beloved," Lena whispered, "I beg you. Do not refuse." Her eyes swam with tears, torn by a cruel effort to see herself as she really was. "Behold, I am frail and faulty. I have neither worth nor courage to preserve myself alone. I have given--Please, Thomas Covenant." Before he could stop her, she dropped to her knees. "I beg--do not shame me in the eyes of my whole life."
His defensive rage was no match for her. He snatched her up from her knees as if he meant to break her back, but then he held her tenderly, put all the gentleness of which he was capable into his face. For an instant, he felt he had in his hands proof that he--not Lord Foul--was responsible for the misery of the Land. And he could not accept that responsibility without rejecting her. What she asked him to do was to forget--
He knew that Foamfollower was watching him. But if Triock and Mhoram and Bannor had been behind him as well--if even Trell and Atarian had been present--he would not have changed his answer.
"No, Lena," he said softly. "I don't love you right--I don't have the right kind of love to marry you. I'd only be cheating you. You're beautiful--beautiful. Any other man wouldn't wait for you to ask him. But I'm the Unbeliever, remember? I'm here for a reason." With a sick twisting of his lips that was as close as he could come to a smile, he finished, "Berek Halfhand didn't marry his Queen, either."
His words filled him with disgust. He felt that he was telling her a lie worse than the lie of marrying her--that any comfort he might try to offer her violated the severe truth. But as she realized what he was saying, she caught hold of the idea and clasped it to her. She blinked rapidly at her tears, and the harsh effort of holding her confusion at bay faded from her face. In its place, a shy smile touched her lips. "Am I your Queen then, Unbeliever?" she asked in a tone of wonder.
Roughly, Covenant hugged her so that she could not see the savagery which white-knuckled his countenance. "Of course." He forced up the words as if they were too thick for his aching throat. "No one else is worthy."
He held her, half fearing she would collapse if he let her go, but after a long moment, she withdrew from his embrace. With a look that reminded him of her sprightly girlhood, she said, "Let us tell the Giant," as if she wished to announce something better than a betrothal.
Together, they turned and climbed arm in arm up the ravine toward Saltheart Foamfollower.
When they reached him, they found that his buttressed visage was still wet with weeping. Gray ice sheened his face, hung like beads from his stiff beard. His hands were gripped and straining across his knees. "Foamfollower," Lena said in surprise, "this is a moment of happiness. Why do you weep?"
His hands jerked up to scrub away the ice, and when it was gone, he smiled at her with wonderful fondness. "You are too beautiful, my Queen," he told her gently. "You surpass me."
”The Giants are dead,” the voice in Covenant’s ear said dispassionately. “Only Giant-Ravers remain.”
That is a lovely passage, just lovely...