Two deeply hopeful chapters (Spoilers for 2nd series)

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Durris
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Two deeply hopeful chapters (Spoilers for 2nd series)

Post by Durris »

A while back Fist and Faith posted a substantial contribution (“Two *extremely* cool chapters”) comparing “The Spoiled Plains” in TPTP with “Those Who Part” in WGW. I’ve recently been rereading the latter part of TWL and noticed that there are also some structural similarities between “The Quest” in TWL and “Those Who Part”.

Though Covenant and Brinn begin the fight against the Clave in “Soothtell” just before it, “The Quest” is where Covenant’s alliance against the Clave—with the Haruchai collectively, Memla, Sunder, Hollian, and (in time to come) the Giants of the Search—is forged. In “Those Who Part,” its war against the Clave won, the alliance disperses; though their shared travails have bonded its members irreversibly, separate fates await many of them.

“The Quest” and “Those Who Part” represent the Alpha and Omega points of that part of Haruchai history that transpires in the Second Chronicles. Not merely the beginning and end, but the source and goal. “The Quest” shows us the shared history and mutual responsibility that motivate Covenant and Brinn in their choices toward each other. In “Those Who Part” all of Haruchai history is recapitulated and redeemed.

The Haruchai reappear in TWL a couple of chapters before “The Quest,” and Brinn and Covenant become responsible to and for each other in “Soothtell,” just before it. But in “The Quest” what had started as tactical necessity for each of them becomes considered and conscious choice. Though Brinn’s acceptance of responsibility for Covenant’s life has been a foregone conclusion from that first moment of mind-speech in the soothtell, Covenant’s acceptance of Brinn’s service begins reluctantly. The First Chronicles refrain of Tan-Haruchail is never mentioned explicitly, but Covenant and Brinn (who in this speaks for his entire nation) do end up saying its moral equivalent to each other in all sincerity, notwithstanding Covenant’s scruples.

In “Those Who Part,” after a long and eventful moral coevolution, Covenant honorably discharges the Haruchai from his service, over the most cogent objections Durris can raise. Just as only Covenant had the power to pronounce First Mark Tuvor “true” and free him to depart this life, only Covenant can pronounce complete the struggle of Tuvor’s descendants to prove their worth. Even Brinn’s victory over the Guardian of the One Tree wasn’t enough without Covenant’s verdict: most honorably acquitted. All that Bannor promised in Andelain has been accomplished, and then some.

******

Both chapters come after victories. “The Quest” picks up after Covenant’s first battle with the Clave after the soothtell, in which he inflicts losses, destroys Santonin’s piece of the Illearth Stone, and frees the Haruchai and some Stonedownor and Woodhelvennin prisoners, but doesn’t kill the na-Mhoram. “Those Who Part” comes in the aftermath of the final rout of the Clave, Covenant’s ordeal in the Banefire (alchemical or metallurgical caamora—was fusing venom into alloy what he had originally hoped to do in Coercri?), and the Banefire’s extinguishing.

The action before or at the beginning of both chapters takes place in the former Lords’ quarters area. In TWL, the soothtell had occurred in its round central chamber; in WGW, after the Clave’s defeat and the Banefire’s extinction, Covenant and Linden spend a night in the room that had once been Mhoram’s.

At the start of “The Quest” Linden is unconscious. When at length she awakes and speaks with Covenant, it’s across a vast and painful emotional distance, not only because she’s still morally seared by Gibbon’s recent violation, but also because she sees Covenant’s leprosy and venom and because his use of wild magic to heal his cut wrists makes her feel completely superfluous.
For a moment, she returned his embrace as if she were grateful for it. Then, suddenly, she stiffened. Her slim, abused body became nausea in his arms. He tried to speak, but could not sever the knots in his chest. When she tried to pull away from him, he let her go; and still he could not speak.
She did not meet his stare. Her gaze wandered his frame to the old cut in the center of his shirt. “You’re sick.”
Momentarily, he failed to understand her. “Linden—?”
“Sick.” Her voice trailed like blood between her lips. “Sick.” Moving as if she were stunned by abhorrence or grief, she turned her back on him. She sank to the ground, covered her face with her hands, began to rock back and forth. Faintly, he heard her murmuring, “Sick. Sick.”
At the start of “Those Who Part” Linden and Covenant are both wide awake. No distance remains between them whatsoever. Their conversation in the prior chapter (“All I want is a living love for as long as I can get it. I want you.”) has broken down all barriers, and they become again physically intimate for the first time since The One Tree.
She had not been in his arms since the crisis of the One Tree; and now she sought to impress every touch and line of him onto her hungry nerves.
If he had wanted sleep himself, she would have been loath to let him go. But he had resumed his certainty as if it could take the place of rest; and his desire for her was as poignant as an act of grace. From time to time, she felt him smiling the smile that belonged solely to her; and once he wept as if his tears were the same as hers. But they did not sleep.
*blink*

During this night, Linden becomes aware that the very granite of Revelstone is responding to the end of Clave and Banefire:
And as the abused stone of the sacred enclosure cooled, the entire city let out a long granite sigh which seemed to breathe like relief through every wall and floor.
This image is a resolution, modulated into a major key, of a tragic image at the very end of “The Quest”, in which Revelstone’s protest against the Clave is the last thing Covenant perceives before becoming unconscious from blood-loss and delayed shock:
As he fell, he heard a cold wail from Revelstone—a cry like the keening of the great Keep, promising loss and blood. Or perhaps the wail was within himself.
Ah, Revelstone, now you need keen no more…*ahem* I digress.

In both chapters Covenant and a companion travel from Revelstone’s upland exit to Glimmermere: Covenant and Brinn in “The Quest” and Covenant and Linden in “Those Who Part.” In “The Quest,” Covenant is so exsanguinated he can hardly stay afoot without Brinn’s help. In “Those Who Part,” he walks “with a happy haste in his strides,” despite the fact that Covenant & Linden have both been awake for 48 hours or so…and have already put their quadriceps muscles to other use :wink: .

Covenant and Brinn in “The Quest” trek to and from Glimmermere in deep night, lit only by the moon. Covenant and Linden in “Those Who Part” do so in dawn light of what becomes a desert sun. In both chapters, Glimmermere’s resistance to the Sunbane is invoked.

“The Quest”:
[Covenant] did not know where else to turn except to Glimmermere. To the Earthpower which remained still vital enough to provide Glimmermere with water, even when all the Land lay under a desert sun.
“Those Who Part”:
Toward Glimmermere, where Mhoram had hidden the krill of Loric for the Land’s future. Where sprang the only water outside Andelain Earthpowerful enough to resist the Sunbane.
As Covenant and Linden enjoy their baptismal bath in Glimmermere, a desert sun is rising over them; the narrative makes plain, as readers feel the holy icy water swirling around their own skin, that the Sunbane cannot harm them here.

This scene in “Those Who Part” shows us bliss in the aftermath of victory; Covenant’s and Brinn’s trek to Glimmermere in “The Quest” shows us companionship in time of utmost need.

“The Quest”:
[Covenant] did not have enough blood in his veins to sustain himself without the fire of his ring: once he dropped his power, he would be beyond any self-protection. He would have to trust the Haruchai to save him, save his friends. And that thought was bitter to him. Bannor’s people had paid such severe prices in his name. How could he permit them to serve him again?
(Temporarily is how Covenant can permit them to serve him again; but I’m getting ahead of the tale.)

“The Quest”:
And Brinn strode at his side as if the Haruchai had already committed himself to this service. Somewhere he had found a cloak which he now draped across Covenant’s shoulders; the Unbeliever shrugged it into place, hardly noticing. It helped to protect him against the shock of blood-loss.
Covenant needed hope….He could not known he was so capable of slaughter. He could not face the demands of his new knowledge without some kind of hope.
… Brinn walked beside [Covenant], and did not speak. The Haruchai seemed content to support whatever Covenant intended. In the same way, the Bloodguard had been content to serve the Lords. Their acceptance [remember the Vow’s antiphon, “We accept”!] had cost them two thousand years without love or sleep or death. And it had cost them corruption: like Foamfollower, Bannor had been forced to watch his people become the thing they hated. Covenant did not know how to accept [making the Tan-Haruchail reciprocal] Brinn’s tacit offer. How could he risk repeating the fate of the Bloodguard? But he was in need, and did not know how to refuse.
Covenant’s wild magic summons the krill from the depths of Glimmermere, and sustains him as he walks on the lake to retrieve it. Back on the lake shore, his power subsides and his exhaustion takes hold.
“The Quest”:
…Shorn of power, [Covenant] could no longer grasp the krill. It became hot in his hands, hot enough to touch the nerves which still lived. He dropped it to the ground, where it shone like the last piece of light in the world. Mutely, he knelt beside it, with his back to Glimmermere as if he had been humbled. He felt alone in the land, and incapable of himself.
But he was not alone.
[Brinn later says “You are not alone” to the Giants of the Search.]

“The Quest”:
Brinn tore a strip from his tunic—a garment made from an ochre material that resembled vellum—and wrapped the krill so that it could be handled. For a moment, he placed a gentle touch on Covenant’s shoulder. Then he said quietly, “Ur-Lord, come. The Clave will attempt to strike against us. We must go.”
*blinks, bows head and is silent*

Brinn’s commitment to Covenant is no mere duty inherited from his ancestor Bannor, no mere debt of a freed prisoner. It is, already, as deeply personal an allegiance as Bannor’s had become after his whole shared history with Covenant, when at last they stood together on Landsdrop in “The Spoiled Plains.” The small demonstrations of human concern that pervade this chapter (interspersed among more traditional, and also much-needed, Haruchai competence and heroism) take my breath at every reading.

Covenant and Brinn return to the upland portal of Revelstone, are met by Ceer, and proceed down through the city:

“The Quest”:
As [Covenant] moved through the tunnel, a score of Haruchai gathered around him like an honor-guard.
In his Dissection of this chapter, Matrixman opined that this must have been deeply humbling for Covenant; I am humbled merely to imagine it. A still more humbling honor awaits Covenant in this chapter, less than a page further on.

Covenant and his retinue of Haruchai pass through Revelstone’s forehall without the narrator’s pausing at all to describe it. In the latter portion of “Those Who Part”, in contrast, the forehall will take center stage as the setting of the most important conversations of the chapter—which are just as morally climactic for WGW as the exchange between Covenant and Bannor in “The Spoiled Plains” is for TPTP. But I’m getting ahead of the tale again.

In “The Quest,” Covenant, Brinn, Ceer, et al. join Linden, Sunder, Hollian, and the freed Haruchai and people of the Land out in front of Revelstone’s tower gates.
[Covenant] had eyes only for Linden. Her back was to him. He hardly noticed that all Brinn’s people had turned toward him and dropped to one knee, as if he had been announced by silent trumpets.
In the time it took Covenant and Brinn to travel here, Brinn’s fealty has been telepathically conveyed to—and fervently ratified by—his compatriots. (Incidentally, this homage is quite a departure from the usual minimalism of Haruchai gesture; how sad that Covenant was paying so little attention.)

Similar obeisance is offered in “Those Who Part”, just inside the gates of Revelstone.
Near the gates were gathered the people who had accompanied or fought for the Unbeliever and survived…They seemed to wait for Covenant as if he were the turning point of their lives. Even the Haruchai, Linden sensed with a touch of quiet wonder. In spite of their mountain-bred intransigence, they were balanced on a personal cusp and could be swayed. As Covenant drew near, each of them dropped to one knee in mute homage.
Just in the act of typing this my chest is suddenly as tight as Covenant’s must have been.

The First greets Covenant, who then explains his purpose to confront Corruption in Kiril Threndor. The First’s expression of approval and request for further instructions is interrupted:

"Those Who Part":
Durris had taken a step forward. He faced Covenant with an unwonted intensity gleaming in his flat eyes.
“Ur-Lord, we will accompany you.”
This echoes Brinn’s words in “The Quest,” when Covenant has announced his purpose to make a new Staff of Law.

"The Quest":
“Ur-Lord Covenant, you conceive a bold undertaking. You will be accompanied.”
But Covenant responds differently to Durris than he had to Brinn.

"Those Who Part":
Covenant did not hesitate. In a voice as unshakable as the Haruchai’s, he said, “No, you won’t.”
Just as Covenant in “The Quest” had argued with himself repeatedly about saying even a tacit yes to Brinn’s service, Durris is not ready to take Covenant’s no for an answer on the first—or second—attempt. Both Covenant’s reluctance to accept service and Durris’s determination to continue service are responses to the debts of their shared history. Durris appears to see himself as a second Bannor, with a chance to undo what he considers to have been Bannor’s mistakes.
“Thomas Covenant, bethink you….The Haruchai are known to you. The tale of the Bloodguard is known to you. You have witnessed that proud, deathless Vow—and you have beheld its ending. Do not believe that we forget. In all the ages of that service, it was the grief of the Bloodguard that they gave no direct battle to Corruption. And yet when the chance came to Bannor—when he stood at your side upon Landsdrop with Saltheart Foamfollower and knew your purpose—he turned aside from it. You had need of him, and he turned aside….We must restore our faith. We will not turn aside again.”
[Incidentally, “Those Who Part” shows Brinn and compatriots turning aside from no least detail of Covenant’s need. Why does Durris not recognize this as a sufficient reparation for any turning aside their ancestors might conceivably have done?]

And Durris appears to see Covenant as a potential second Kevin, capable either of enacting a new Desecration or of undoing Kevin’s default, being a new and greater High Lord who can sustain a renewed Vow. His determination to remain with Covenant over Covenant’s objections mirrors his ancestors’ determination to allow no more Kevins. Both he and they act on the fallacy that they can, by main force of responsibility, make those they serve into persons unfallen enough to support the weight of their loyalty.

Into this doomed attempt to redeem history by doing it over, Covenant intervenes. Just as he had totally restructured the moral world of Sunder and Hollian, so now he remakes Haruchai history by remythologizing it.
"Those Who Part":
“The fact is,” he said without accusation, “you’ve been wrong all along. You’ve misunderstood your own doubt from the beginning. What it means. Why it matters. First Kevin, then the other Lords, then me—ever since your people first came to the Land, you’ve been swearing yourselves in service to ordinary men and women who simply can’t be worthy of what you offer. Kevin was a good man who broke down when the pressure got to be worse than he could stand—and the Bloodguard were never able to forgive him because they pinned their faith on him and when he failed they thought it was their fault for not making him worthy, not preventing him from being human. Over and over again, you put yourselves in the position of serving someone who has to fail you for the mere reason that he’s human and all humans fail at one time or another—and then you can’t forgive yourselves because his failure casts doubt on your service. And you can’t forgive yourselves either. You want to serve perfectly, and that means you’re responsible for everything. And whenever something comes along to remind you you’re mortal—like the merewives—that’s unforgivable too, and you decide you aren’t worthy to go on serving. Or else you want to do something crazy, like fighting Foul in person.
……
“You can do better than that. Nobody questions your worth. You’ve demonstrated it a thousand times. And if that’s not enough for you, remember Brinn faced the Guardian of the One Tree and won. Ak-Haru Kenaustin Ardenol. Any one of you would’ve done the same in his place. You don’t need to serve me any more.”
Durris—just as stubborn as Covenant!—still isn’t satisfied.
“Ur-Lord, what would you have us do?” he asked as if he felt no distress. “You have given our lives to us. We must make recompense. That is necessary.” In spite of its inflexibility, his voice put the weight of Haruchai history into the word, necessary. The extravagance and loyalty of his people required an outlet. “The Vow of the Bloodguard was sworn to meet the bounty and grandeur of High Lord Kevin and Revelstone. It was not regretted. Do you ask such an oath from us again, that we may preserve the meaning of our lives?”
“No.” Covenant’s eyes softened and blurred, and he put his hand on Durris’ shoulder as if he wanted to hug the Haruchai. Linden felt pouring from him the ache of his appreciation.
Thus Brinn’s gesture of comradeship in “The Quest” is reciprocated.
“There’s something else I want you to do.”
At that, Durris’ stance sharpened. He stood before the Unbeliever like a salute.
“I want you to stay here. In Revelstone. With as many of your people as you can get. For two reasons. To take care of the wounded. …And to protect the city. This is Revelstone, Lord’s Keep. It belongs to the Land—not to Corruption or Ravers. I want it safe. So the future will have a place to center. A place where people can come to learn about the past—and see what the Land means—and make plans.
Only the Haruchai now remember with Covenant the true, undistorted history of the Land. In the era of rebuilding after Linden has healed the Sunbane, they will be far more necessary in the moral realm, as guardians of memory, than their ancestors had been militarily as the protectors of the Lords and the city.
“You’ve already given me everything Bannor promised and more. But I want you to do this too. For me. And for yourselves. Here you can serve something that isn’t going to fail you.”
For a long moment, Durris was silent while his mind addressed his people. Then he spoke, and his dispassionate voice thrilled Linden’s hearing like a distant tantara of horns.
An antiphonal response—and almost-unlooked-for resolution in the tonic major chord!—to the “silent trumpets” that had heralded Covenant’s advent in “The Quest.”
“Ur-Lord, we will do it.”
In response, Covenant squeezed Durris’ shoulder and tried to blink the gratitude out of his eyes.
Covenant isn’t the only one whose vision is blurred just now.

“O happy fault, O necessary sin of Adam [and Kevin, and Korik, and Covenant, and Linden] that was worthy of so great a redemption…”


There’s yet more redemption in this chapter; Cail’s tale will have to await another occasion, and maybe another narrator. There’s only so much my poor receptors can take at once.
Last edited by Durris on Mon Apr 12, 2004 9:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by amanibhavam »

This only proves that SRD had gotten bored with writing and recycled some old material :P :P :P
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Re: Two deeply hopeful chapters (Spoilers for 2nd series)

Post by matrixman »

Durris wrote:
In “Those Who Part,” after a long and eventful moral coevolution, Covenant honorably discharges the Haruchai from his service, over the most cogent objections Durris can raise. Just as only Covenant had the power to pronounce First Mark Tuvor “true” and free him to depart this life, only Covenant can pronounce complete the struggle of Tuvor’s descendants to prove their worth. Even Brinn’s victory over the Guardian of the One Tree wasn’t enough without Covenant’s verdict: most honorably acquitted. All that Bannor promised in Andelain has been accomplished, and then some.
That scene between Tuvor and Covenant in LFB always stuck out in my mind as being very moving: the last gasp of a Bloodguard--a 2000 year-old life snuffed out so quickly and terribly. It's curious that Tuvor in his last moments turned all his attention to Covenant, basically ignoring Lord Mhoram. Whether it's Kevin or Covenant, it's amazing how the Haruchai trip themselves up over one individual. (Well, with Covenant, I guess he tripped everyone up.)
Durris wrote: In the era of rebuilding after Linden has healed the Sunbane, they will be far more necessary in the moral realm, as guardians of memory, than their ancestors had been militarily as the protectors of the Lords and the city.
Haruchai as guardians of memory...wow, so true, Durris! This, at least, would be a vow of service more manageable and less costly than that other one. It's incredible that the Haruchai maintained the true history of the Land through all the centuries without writing it down. Errors may gradually creep into oral histories of other folks, but the Haruchai will have none of that! :)

Note to self: do not read thought-provoking posts at 1:00 in the morning... :faint:
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Post by Durris »

Matrixman wrote:That scene between Tuvor and Covenant in LFB always stuck out in my mind as being very moving: the last gasp of a Bloodguard--a 2000 year-old life snuffed out so quickly and terribly. It's curious that Tuvor in his last moments turned all his attention to Covenant, basically ignoring Lord Mhoram.
:cry:

After my first reading I had little conscious memory of the "last rites for Tuvor" scene...but soon had a dream in which I was playing a role similar to Covenant's for another dying First Mark: Bannor, long after the events of the first series. When I reread all of LFB in 2000, the impact of reencountering the original scene unawares was intense.

In the latter part of "The Vow's flaw" thread there's some more discussion of that scene, if you haven't seen it already. Fist and Faith has a very interesting explanation of why Tuvor turned to Covenant specifically.
Matrixman wrote:This, at least, would be a vow of service more manageable and less costly than that other one.
Not that the Haruchai would deign to care how costly it was or wasn't...but it is a less morally hazardous service, for them and for those served. And precisely because it is a different kind of service than the Vow, it allows them to see themselves, their service, and what they give allegiance to in a completely different light. We don't see what will take the place of "succeed or die" as their credo...and probably neither does Durris, until experience brings it into being sometime after the end of WGW.
Matrixman wrote:It's incredible that the Haruchai maintained the true history of the Land through all the centuries without writing it down. Errors may gradually creep into oral histories of other folks, but the Haruchai will have none of that!
Telepathy is useful that way. I wonder whether the Haruchai ever did use written language; in "The Spoiled Plains," Bannor draws a map, and I wouldn't expect mapmaking to have been invented apart from writing.
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Re: Two deeply hopeful chapters (Spoilers for 2nd series)

Post by Fist and Faith »

*bows deeply - DEEPLY - to Durris*

I've been afraid to read this until now. I knew how much attention it would require, and couldn't do it. Finally, I've had a calm couple of nights, and am, yet again, in awe of Durris.

First off, I think that your noticing this connection - that, though the footsteps in the two chapters are nearly identical, what is really happening is often completely opposite - is nearly as brilliant as SRD's writing of it! Revelstone keens in one, and sighs in the other. The extremely different reasons for walking to Glimmermere. Gaining Haruchai in one, and losing them in another. Just incredible!

This also shows just how little I know the 2nd Chrons. One reading hasn't come close to being sufficient, no matter how much discussion I take part in. And so, I'm grateful to you beyond words for pointing so many things out to me.
Durris wrote:
Glimmermere, where Mhoram had hidden the krill of Loric for the Land’s future. Where sprang the only water outside Andelain Earthpowerful enough to resist the Sunbane.
As Covenant and Linden enjoy their baptismal bath in Glimmermere, a desert sun is rising over them; the narrative makes plain, as readers feel the holy icy water swirling around their own skin, that the Sunbane cannot harm them here.
I just thought I'd throw in a little Earthsea here. (It's sorta my job, after all. :))
The water ran timelessly from its clear spring. He lay on the sand of the pool’s bottom letting running water, stronger than any spell of healing, sooth his wound and with its coolness wash away the bleaker cold that had entered him.
Durris wrote:*blinks, bows head and is silent*

Brinn’s commitment to Covenant is no mere duty inherited from his ancestor Bannor, no mere debt of a freed prisoner. It is, already, as deeply personal an allegiance as Bannor’s had become after his whole shared history with Covenant, when at last they stood together on Landsdrop in “The Spoiled Plains.” The small demonstrations of human concern that pervade this chapter (interspersed among more traditional, and also much-needed, Haruchai competence and heroism) take my breath at every reading.
YES!! We see Haruchai emotion often, but it's usually a fierce thing. Thomin; Bannor speaking of the danger of the mountains; etc. And we also know how much the Haruchai men love their women. But now we see tenderness for Covenant. I don't even know what to say about it. *shakes head in amazement*
Durris wrote:
As [Covenant] moved through the tunnel, a score of Haruchai gathered around him like an honor-guard.
In his Dissection of this chapter, Matrixman opined that this must have been deeply humbling for Covenant; I am humbled merely to imagine it.
I'm sitting here literally laughing out loud at the thought of that happening to me! Not that they'd ever be so foolish, but the honor would turn me into a giggling idiot.
Durris wrote:A still more humbling honor awaits Covenant in this chapter, less than a page further on.
Right??? Like it wasn't enough already!!
[Covenant] had eyes only for Linden. Her back was to him. He hardly noticed that all Brinn’s people had turned toward him and dropped to one knee, as if he had been announced by silent trumpets.
That would've been it for me. I'd've lost consciousness.

OK, here's the only problem I have with your post - you edited out my favorite part of Durris' speach!! (That's ok, I'll put it back in now. :D)
"Thomas Covenant, bethink you." Obliquely, Linden wondered why it was Durris who spoke and not Cail. "The Haruchai are known to you. The tale of the Bloodguard is known to you. You have witnessed that proud, deathless Vow - and you have beheld its ending. Do not believe that we forget. In all the ages of that service, it was the grief of the Bloodguard that they gave no direct battle to Corruption. And yet when the chance came to Bannor - when he stood at your side upon Landsdrop with Saltheart Foamfollower and knew your purpose - he turned aside from it. You had need of him, and he turned aside.

"We do not judge him. The Vow was broken. But I say to you that we have tasted failure, and it is not to our liking. We must restore our faith. We will not turn aside again."
Oh, I love it!!! ...it is not to our liking. Those Haruchai, ever the masters of understatement!
"Over and over again, you put yourselves in the position of serving someone who has to fail you for the mere reason that he’s human and all humans fail at one time or another—and then you can’t forgive yourselves because his failure casts doubt on your service."
I'm sayin'! Your Vows - and judgement of yourself! - can't be dependent on the actions of others!
Durris wrote:Durris—just as stubborn as Covenant!—still isn’t satisfied.
Heh :)
Durris wrote:Only the Haruchai now remember with Covenant the true, undistorted history of the Land. In the era of rebuilding after Linden has healed the Sunbane, they will be far more necessary in the moral realm, as guardians of memory, than their ancestors had been militarily as the protectors of the Lords and the city.
*applause* Bravo!! Incredible insight, Durris!!


I've enjoyed MAYBE a handful of the Watch's 104218 posts as much as this one!!
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Post by Durris »

Fist and Faith wrote:First off, I think that your noticing this connection - that, though the footsteps in the two chapters are nearly identical, what is really happening is often completely opposite - is nearly as brilliant as SRD's writing of it!
Yikes. That compliment is beyond "humbling" and into "frightening." Thank you!
Fist and Faith wrote:I just thought I'd throw in a little Earthsea here. (It's sorta my job, after all. )
The water ran timelessly from its clear spring. He lay on the sand of the pool’s bottom letting running water, stronger than any spell of healing, sooth his wound and with its coolness wash away the bleaker cold that had entered him.
*blink, flinch* It's been much too long since I reread Earthsea; I'd forgotten this image entirely. Thank you.
Fist and Faith wrote:YES!! We see Haruchai emotion often, but it's usually a fierce thing. Thomin; Bannor speaking of the danger of the mountains; etc. And we also know how much the Haruchai men love their women. But now we see tenderness for Covenant. I don't even know what to say about it. *shakes head in amazement*
Precisely because what we usually see (what is intense enough to get past the outer perimeter of "detached competence") is the fierceness, this tenderness is the more moving for being unexpected. (I just remembered that Bannor is spoken of in TPTP as communicating to Mhoram, more than any prior First Mark ever had, "his solicitude for the survival of the Lords." Again and again in TWL, Brinn is likened to Bannor, mostly, I suppose, because Bannor is the long-ago Haruchai that Covenant knew best and misses most, but perhaps also because they share this quality of solicitude?)
Fist and Faith wrote:I've enjoyed MAYBE a handful of the Watch's 104218 posts as much as this one!!
Ah, kinsman--!

*bows deeply to Fist*
Shared pain is lessened; shared joy is increased.
--Spider Robinson
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Fist and Faith
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Post by Fist and Faith »

Durris wrote:*blink, flinch* It's been much too long since I reread Earthsea; I'd forgotten this image entirely. Thank you.
Don't beat yourself up over it. :D It's from a short story called Word of Unbinding, which I originally found in a collection of various authors, but then was in a Le Guin collection called Wind's Twelve Quarters.
Durris wrote:Precisely because what we usually see (what is intense enough to get past the outer perimeter of "detached competence") is the fierceness, this tenderness is the more moving for being unexpected.
Yes! How strongly Brinn must have felt about Covenant!
Durris wrote:(I just remembered that Bannor is spoken of in TPTP as communicating to Mhoram, more than any prior First Mark ever had, "his solicitude for the survival of the Lords." Again and again in TWL, Brinn is likened to Bannor, mostly, I suppose, because Bannor is the long-ago Haruchai that Covenant knew best and misses most, but perhaps also because they share this quality of solicitude?)
I wonder if Bannor is the first Haruchai to behave like that, setting a new pattern of behavior for all Haruchai. Surely, the Bloodguard learned what no Haruchai before them had - that there are people out there who canNOT kill with each individual finger, bench-press 2 tons, ignore the pain of hideous tortures, take on Giants in single combat, etc, etc, but who are nonetheless worthy of every bit of admiration and love that they could muster. It could be that another reason Brinn is compared to Bannor is that Bannor is the legendery figure who began this prolixity in all of them.
All lies and jest
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
-Paul Simon

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