AATE, Part 1, Chapter 8: Caverns Ornate and Majestic
Posted: Thu Aug 11, 2011 3:05 am
Donaldson does some fascinating stuff in this chapter! He first of all takes us on a wondrous but frantic trek through a region of the Land that we’ve never before encountered. Along the way the characters experience entrancing magic and scenery created by the Viles. And most awesomely, he plays with language in specific ways that allow the reader to taste some of the same magic that the characters are faced with.
The loveliness and profundity of the Viles’ creations in the Lost Deep are felt by the reader from the very outset of the chapter. “But the slight impact of metal on stone made no sound that she could hear. Instead his tapping gave off evanescent puffs of moonshine and pearl like wisps of incandescence.” (pg. 138) Much of the chapter has Linden (and presumably the rest of the company) experiencing some intense synesthesia. This is when your senses get crossed, so to speak. Like the example above, you would experience sound as something visual.
At the top of pg. 142 SRD states that “She [Linden] was falling into paresthesia again, the neural confusion caused by the intangible essence of the Viles.” Paresthesia is basically when a limb falls asleep, or experiences numbness, tingling or pricking on the skin. (Sounds like formication to me!) So the two –esthesias are not the same, but the crossing or blurring of the senses is quite evident throughout the chapter.
On pg. 140 Linden catches “a whiff of Mahrtiir’s voice. … The words smelled querulous.” Here she is experiencing sound as olfaction. At the bottom of pg. 141 SRD pulls out an obscure word that, for me, sort of sums up this chapter. He writes: “This hall was straight, featureless, and long: long enough for Linden to realize that her perceptions were suffering a kind of delinition. The glow of the stone became less a matter of sight and more a flowing series of sensations on her skin; brief caresses as loving as kisses; small scrapes that caused no pain; the tickling of feathers; warm breaths. The colors were the multitudinous susurrus of her companions.” He’s really blurring the lines here for all involved, characters and readers.
Delinition, a smearing. Or, to de-line something, to render what was a clear distinction between two things now unclear and blurry. The word comes from the Latin delinere. The basic root of the concept is the line; from there it’s not a far leap to the limit, or even to the liminal space between two processes or states or attractors. However you slice it, the gang is going through some inner chaos caused by the ancient magic left behind by the lofty Viles; they are traveling that uncertain space that comes before experiencing something completely novel, or that time preceding a transition or shift. And then…
“As though she had crossed a threshold into an altogether different definition of reality, she entered a space as open, ornate, and majestic as a palace.” (pg. 142) SRD then takes the ethereal haze of perceptions that the company has experienced thus far beyond the Hazard and congeals it into a castle made of water! And some of the descriptions are marvelous: “Lakes as calm as Glimmermere had made the walls. Brooks giggling over their rocks in springtime had become the rugs; the vociferous mosaics. The fountain was a captured geyser.” (pg. 144) But more generally: “The palace was a sculpture, a work of the most sublime art: an eldritch and enduring triumph of ability and will over the fluid inconstancy of time.” (bottom of 143)
For me, this palace of water is one of the true gems of TLCs so far. Donaldson creates an amazing wonder in the castle itself; in a transition/traveling chapter he manages to present us with something lofty and admirable; but also, he manages to include a wealth of potential meaning for what has come before and what may come later.
I believe the key to the potential meaning in this chapter is the fact that Linden figures out that the key to the majestic castle is it being made of water. We’ve known since early in Runes that her fate is written in water. Foul told her that “Men commonly find their fates graven within the rock, but yours is written in water.” (Runes, pg. 163) Stone and Sea. Permanence at rest and permanence in motion. Donaldson is having fun with the juxtaposition of these two elements here, it seems. And just like Linden proved to have learned something crucial from the Viles in the deep past when she encountered them, I believe she has learned something equally crucial from this experience. Like some form of direct reception of truth, she feels the import of her discovery but can’t yet name the specifics of it. The application or imparting of the truth exist only as a latency which will unfold when the conditions are right.
After taking in the castle, Linden is approached by Anele. His presence and touch are enough to draw her out of her trance. When she realizes that earthpower will enable her to continue after the Harrow, who has left the cavern by now, she seeks out Liand and his orcrest. Linden rouses Liand, he activates the orcrest, and they ditch their companions to run catch up with the Harrow. They emerge from the cavern and their trance into an open space that is more definite to their senses. Linden’s health sense returns. She observes a chamber that is too symmetrical to be naturally occurring. She also sees a structure that was made more recently, and that she surmises is the construct used to block Jeremiah’s presence from the Elohim. And then she sees the Harrow unsuccessfully facing down the croyel who is still very much attached to, controlling and sucking the very blood from Jeremiah.
Other Things of Interest from the Chapter
Another little aspect of language use that I enjoyed is in the last paragraph on page 138. The use of verbs such as composed, expressed, articulated and explained in order to describe the physical appearance of a structure. Other words that struck me in the description were outlines, strokes, drawn, and sketch. All these words have something to do with writing (and other things, yes). But it’s the writing connection that struck me as a cool way to describe a construct of the Viles. Then later at the top of pg. 141 SRD writes that “the text of the castle was indecipherable.”
While later in the chapter we have stone and water being juxtaposed, in the middle of pg. 141 we have wood and stone being juxtaposed. Almost as a continuation of what Anele spoke of in chapter 6, the stone is here being measured by the kinds of trees or wooden poles that could fit in the chamber. Also, this is the paragraph that has the replica of Foul’s seat in Foul’s Creche described. The need for the truths of stone and wood, orcrest and refusal seem to resonate in this passage.
And lastly, I love the way the Giants react to the wonder of beholding the loveliness of the Lost Deep. I love how the Ironhand tells the impatient Harrow to chill out…briefly, briefly… The Lost Deep being a domain of stone, I am slightly disappointed that Donaldson didn’t give us more of a reaction from the Giants. However, we did get two spots where the Ardent’s reaction is mentioned. On pg. 143, the text describes the Ardent as having sunk to the floor, rocking himself back and forth “like a child in need of comfort.” Then later on pg. 147, the text states that “The Ardent lay swaddled as if he clad himself for burial.” Strange considering his purpose of witnessing that which is novel; seems he would have become enraptured like the rest of them, but instead it seems as if he’s whimpering and scared.
I shall end here. There are other smaller details about this chapter that I noticed, but will let things begin with this initial post…
The loveliness and profundity of the Viles’ creations in the Lost Deep are felt by the reader from the very outset of the chapter. “But the slight impact of metal on stone made no sound that she could hear. Instead his tapping gave off evanescent puffs of moonshine and pearl like wisps of incandescence.” (pg. 138) Much of the chapter has Linden (and presumably the rest of the company) experiencing some intense synesthesia. This is when your senses get crossed, so to speak. Like the example above, you would experience sound as something visual.
At the top of pg. 142 SRD states that “She [Linden] was falling into paresthesia again, the neural confusion caused by the intangible essence of the Viles.” Paresthesia is basically when a limb falls asleep, or experiences numbness, tingling or pricking on the skin. (Sounds like formication to me!) So the two –esthesias are not the same, but the crossing or blurring of the senses is quite evident throughout the chapter.
On pg. 140 Linden catches “a whiff of Mahrtiir’s voice. … The words smelled querulous.” Here she is experiencing sound as olfaction. At the bottom of pg. 141 SRD pulls out an obscure word that, for me, sort of sums up this chapter. He writes: “This hall was straight, featureless, and long: long enough for Linden to realize that her perceptions were suffering a kind of delinition. The glow of the stone became less a matter of sight and more a flowing series of sensations on her skin; brief caresses as loving as kisses; small scrapes that caused no pain; the tickling of feathers; warm breaths. The colors were the multitudinous susurrus of her companions.” He’s really blurring the lines here for all involved, characters and readers.
Delinition, a smearing. Or, to de-line something, to render what was a clear distinction between two things now unclear and blurry. The word comes from the Latin delinere. The basic root of the concept is the line; from there it’s not a far leap to the limit, or even to the liminal space between two processes or states or attractors. However you slice it, the gang is going through some inner chaos caused by the ancient magic left behind by the lofty Viles; they are traveling that uncertain space that comes before experiencing something completely novel, or that time preceding a transition or shift. And then…
“As though she had crossed a threshold into an altogether different definition of reality, she entered a space as open, ornate, and majestic as a palace.” (pg. 142) SRD then takes the ethereal haze of perceptions that the company has experienced thus far beyond the Hazard and congeals it into a castle made of water! And some of the descriptions are marvelous: “Lakes as calm as Glimmermere had made the walls. Brooks giggling over their rocks in springtime had become the rugs; the vociferous mosaics. The fountain was a captured geyser.” (pg. 144) But more generally: “The palace was a sculpture, a work of the most sublime art: an eldritch and enduring triumph of ability and will over the fluid inconstancy of time.” (bottom of 143)
For me, this palace of water is one of the true gems of TLCs so far. Donaldson creates an amazing wonder in the castle itself; in a transition/traveling chapter he manages to present us with something lofty and admirable; but also, he manages to include a wealth of potential meaning for what has come before and what may come later.
I believe the key to the potential meaning in this chapter is the fact that Linden figures out that the key to the majestic castle is it being made of water. We’ve known since early in Runes that her fate is written in water. Foul told her that “Men commonly find their fates graven within the rock, but yours is written in water.” (Runes, pg. 163) Stone and Sea. Permanence at rest and permanence in motion. Donaldson is having fun with the juxtaposition of these two elements here, it seems. And just like Linden proved to have learned something crucial from the Viles in the deep past when she encountered them, I believe she has learned something equally crucial from this experience. Like some form of direct reception of truth, she feels the import of her discovery but can’t yet name the specifics of it. The application or imparting of the truth exist only as a latency which will unfold when the conditions are right.
After taking in the castle, Linden is approached by Anele. His presence and touch are enough to draw her out of her trance. When she realizes that earthpower will enable her to continue after the Harrow, who has left the cavern by now, she seeks out Liand and his orcrest. Linden rouses Liand, he activates the orcrest, and they ditch their companions to run catch up with the Harrow. They emerge from the cavern and their trance into an open space that is more definite to their senses. Linden’s health sense returns. She observes a chamber that is too symmetrical to be naturally occurring. She also sees a structure that was made more recently, and that she surmises is the construct used to block Jeremiah’s presence from the Elohim. And then she sees the Harrow unsuccessfully facing down the croyel who is still very much attached to, controlling and sucking the very blood from Jeremiah.
Other Things of Interest from the Chapter
Another little aspect of language use that I enjoyed is in the last paragraph on page 138. The use of verbs such as composed, expressed, articulated and explained in order to describe the physical appearance of a structure. Other words that struck me in the description were outlines, strokes, drawn, and sketch. All these words have something to do with writing (and other things, yes). But it’s the writing connection that struck me as a cool way to describe a construct of the Viles. Then later at the top of pg. 141 SRD writes that “the text of the castle was indecipherable.”
While later in the chapter we have stone and water being juxtaposed, in the middle of pg. 141 we have wood and stone being juxtaposed. Almost as a continuation of what Anele spoke of in chapter 6, the stone is here being measured by the kinds of trees or wooden poles that could fit in the chamber. Also, this is the paragraph that has the replica of Foul’s seat in Foul’s Creche described. The need for the truths of stone and wood, orcrest and refusal seem to resonate in this passage.
And lastly, I love the way the Giants react to the wonder of beholding the loveliness of the Lost Deep. I love how the Ironhand tells the impatient Harrow to chill out…briefly, briefly… The Lost Deep being a domain of stone, I am slightly disappointed that Donaldson didn’t give us more of a reaction from the Giants. However, we did get two spots where the Ardent’s reaction is mentioned. On pg. 143, the text describes the Ardent as having sunk to the floor, rocking himself back and forth “like a child in need of comfort.” Then later on pg. 147, the text states that “The Ardent lay swaddled as if he clad himself for burial.” Strange considering his purpose of witnessing that which is novel; seems he would have become enraptured like the rest of them, but instead it seems as if he’s whimpering and scared.
I shall end here. There are other smaller details about this chapter that I noticed, but will let things begin with this initial post…