Well, there are about two years left before we will know all the answers. Which means that there are only two years left to enjoy speculating about them.
lurch, I commend you on your lead of this chapter. I, too, see lots of hope in this chapter. I cannot comment on the surreality of it, I am afraid, as I don't get surreal. But I have a long list of things I do want to say.
I really enjoyed this chapter. One can justly criticize it for being slow and overlong. But I find myself relishing the time spent - finally spent - in Thomas Covenant's head. Donaldson has so many, many plates in the air now, it's no wonder that everything has to be carefully, meticulously attended to in this crucial chapter.
Here we learn the consequences of Covenant's resurrection. He's "smaller" now, smaller than the Undead being which occupied the Arch of Time as the Timewarden. And this sudden un-vastening has cost him. He's had to give up most of who had been. He's had to give up his memories. (The devotionary of Nicolas Daru Ede, anyone?)
Donaldson opens up all kinds of possibilities here. For Covenant hasn't lost everything. Only
most everything. Sure, he's even lost his knowledge of what he has lost and what he hasn't. He doesn't know what he doesn't know any more. But there are exciting possibilities laid before us, depending on what he does remember.
And he might remember
anything. He was the Time Warden.
He had seen everything, known everything.. The possibilities are enormous.
I'm excited.
And poor Linden. All she can see is that she has failed, and doomed the Earth as well.
But she has not earned the damnation that "What have you done?" has laid upon her while we waited three years to see how badly she has screwed up. Because one of the things Covenant remembers is this:
In Against All Things Ending was wrote:The fault of her plight was his. [...] Defying every necessity that sustained the Earth and the Land, he had pointed her toward the ineffable catastrophe of his resurrection.
Covenant had not been idle as the Timewarden - the epithet itself denies the possibility.
He had seen everything, known everything — and had labored to preserve it. [...] Across the ages, he had wielded his singular self in defense of Law and life.
And ...
He had pointed her. Think on that. Then think on who he was. The Timewarden. Omniscient. Laboring to preserve. And that being ... THAT being ... had pointed her to this moment. Surely, he knew the Worm would be roused. Surely, he knew that he would lose his godlike perspective on things when he became mortal, that he would no longer be able to understand everything that matters. Knew ... and pointed Linden on this course.
Isn't it possible that, as the Timewarden, he had planned this moment? Plans which he has devised from his omniscient perch on the Arch? He may have forgotten those plans, forgotten even that there were plans. But he would have taken his forgetting into account when he made those plans. Any such plans would remain potent and viable, for they would have been skillfully laid by the being he was, not the man he is now. A being who could go one on one with Foul when it comes to plotting.
I read this, and I thought to myself: for the first time in these final Chronicles, I see something to give me hope for the Earth.
And we are also told, in this chapter, that we have some time.
Much must transpire before the deeds of the Chosen bear their last fruit. Time to alter the course of events. Time for a plan to turn doom into victory.
I am very excited.
There is one thing that Covenant regrets. That Linden feels the way she feels now.
She had every reason to feel betrayed. Because Covenent had led her to this place, to this act, and he could no longer explain to her why she hasn't destroyed all hope. She is having her Isle of the One Tree moment. He's been there. And he wishes he could have spared her.
But Covenant is sure about one thing, if nothing else. Linden.
In Against All Things Ending was wrote:"But if the Earth has any hope — any hope at all — it depends on you. It has ever since Joan brought you here."
While everyone else is trying to decide in what order they should string Linden up, roast her over a fire, and bludgeon her, Covenant is trying to help Linden see, as best as he now can, that he had been trying to help her. He couldn't tell her anything useful while he was Dead, because of the Necessity of Freedom. And he can't now that he is alive, because he's lost most everything he knew. All he has left is his earnest assurance.
It's not her fault. He chose this.
He's thrown a Hail Mary. Now he's buried under the defense, out of the play. But he is sure ... still sure ... that Linden is Randy Moss.
But his assurances are stilted and abortive. Because mental ceasures are ripping through his mind, catching him and throwing him back into his memories. Memories that arise unbidden, like a nameless entity from a chasm, and snatch him from his present. Covenant is a walking collection of fragments that frequently collapses under its own weight.
But oh, the interesting things that turn up. In a few brief moments, we learn many things about the history of the Land, things we have not seen before. Foul's early doings. Kevin. Loric.
The Demimages of Vidik Amar. Kasreyn's folk.
Clearly, Covenant retains significant information. He just can't control when he can access it. Donaldson has all kinds of interesting things he can do with Covenant now.
I am very, very excited.
.