Showing posts with label battles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label battles. Show all posts

Friday, 21 February 2014

A Memory of Light Summary

A Memory of Light brings Rand's epic journey to a cataclysmic end in near perfect harmony with the rest of The Wheel of Time books.

The majority of A Memory of Light is taken up by battle. A few early moments of respite allow the heroes to make their goodbyes before the final confrontation takes their attention, and in many cases, their lives. The clever placement of a scene where Rand crafts a treaty to guide the nations after his death informs readers what the world will be like after the series ends, leaving the remainder of the story free to concentrate almost exclusively on the struggle against overwhelming odds. It makes it possible to end the story at the exact moment of Rand’s final victory.

The buildup to the Last Battle is itself monumental, as capitals are torched and entire nations laid to waste by innumerable hordes of Trollocs. The defense of human lands quickly degrades into a struggle to survive as humanity's leaders are undercut by the hidden influence of the Forsaken. Each of the principal heroes from the early parts of The Wheel of Time has a time to shine, bringing the story full circle, and one new addition has a significant number of pages dedicated to the struggle faced by Rand's successors at the Black Tower.


With reluctance and the haste of necessity, the forces of the Light make allegiance with the enigmatic Seanchan, whose very way of life is an affront to the White Tower. All of humanity sets aside its differences to make a final stand upon the Field of Merrilor.

Unlike the precision with which earlier books carefully followed travel times and offered cues which allowed the timing of events in one locale to be compared to the next, the author uses a convenient explanation of time dilation radiating outward from Shayol Ghul to cause the final confrontations in all locales to take place simultaneously, but at different rates of progression. The battles leading to Merrilor last weeks, while Rand’s confrontation lasts less than a day. This effect is mostly due to the Dark One's touch on the world, yet it could be argued that as Tel'aran'rhiod disintegrates, its relativistic temporal properties are transferring in some fashion to the waking world. It offers the author immense freedom to allow events in any locale to unfold as needed with as much or as little detail as seen fit to include. In particular, it allows three key events to occur at precisely the same time, forming the cornerstone moment around which the rest of the book is centred. The rapid changes in point of view are essential to the build up to that key moment, and are more appropriate here than in the preceding novels. The result is a magnificent and emotional resolution to several pivotal characters’ story arcs, and offers an unforgettable climax to a gruelling build up of tension.

Rand battles the Dark One on a previously unimaginable scale, wielding the force of creation itself, literally able to remake the world as he sees fit. His conflict is not only against the Dark One, but against himself, as even at this late stage he has yet to fully embrace the lessons others have tried to impart upon him. Matching the reality-altering consequences of Rand’s choices to aspects of his character keeps the scale grand even as his battle is personal and intimate. The Last Battle is truly about Rand choosing what kind of man he will be.

The central tenet of the series is well represented in Rand’s reluctant allegiance with the hated Seanchan, his late realization that destroying the Dark One is as bad as letting him win, and in several characters defeating the potential hate and mistrust in their hearts by compromising and accepting alternate points of view.  The absolutism represented by Padan Fain is thus defeated, and so he is dispatched just as simply as each character in turn chooses not to win at any cost, even preferring to lose than change who they are and what they stand for.

Keeping with my ongoing comparison of the series to American history, Fain is akin to the nuclear era, the scorched earth doctrine, the possibility of wielding power enough to destroy oneself along with the enemy just for the sake of defeating them at any cost. Embracing Fain’s philosophy carries heavy consequences.

The concluding pages offer a couple of unexplained mysteries regarding a mysterious woman and Rand’s new ability. For these I offer my suggestion that his mother spoke with him one last time before he entered adulthood, and that Rand’s ability is a literal representation that a man guided by his conscience and his duty can accomplish anything. This new power is the story’s final message, in line with the themes expressed in both this book and the earlier books in the story, and as with many of the story elements readers have grappled with over the years, it is subtle enough to invoke much debate.

A Memory of Light is fulfilling in every way I hoped, surprising me, delivering on promises, shining with heroism and dripping with sacrifice. It has taken me a year to read and reread it and comprehend its magnitude, and its deep personal meaning to me. I don’t want it to be over. Of course, there are no endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time…

Writing Lessons:


End your story right after the critical moment by foreshadowing less important epilogue elements earlier in the story.

Sunday, 31 March 2013

A Memory of Light - Chapters 7-9

In this section, the long war begins.
The ink is hardly dry on the Dragon’s Peace before planning for the conflict begins. Splitting the conflict onto three immediate fronts in Andor, Shienar and Kandor allows the author to showcase more characters playing roles and to balance momentum, so that even if one battle front goes well for the heroes, other dire situations maintain tension. If there is a downside, it is that with so many plotlines to juggle, some may get only short attention, if they show up at all, and if they play off each other, the complexity of the plotting increases. This intricacy, and the time needed for the author to handle it, is one of the reasons that The Wheel of Time came to feel bogged down. Much of what the author needs to establish now is the setting and placement of characters in each locale.
One of the four great captains is assigned to each of the battle fronts. Merrilor is maintained as Elayne’s central command location, a seemingly trivial decision that will dictate the setting of the Last Battle. A countdown for two locations will run out if a victory is not achieved in Andor quickly. Loial sticks his head in the story long enough to announce the Ogier will fight alongside the humans. The Horn of Valere is entrusted to Faile, who originally left home hunting for it. Lan sets the tone for the coming battle: no sadness, no mourning, only pride that when the time of their testing came, and victory all but impossible, the soldiers were ready, and did their duty, even unto death. Most importantly, the men of many nations fight together, as they never have since the Age of Legends.
The events beginning the conflict have an air of finality. Elayne torches her home city, and reveals the father of her children, admitting there can be no safety for them since she herself is a target. Evin is turned to the Shadow with little fuss, and it seems inevitable that Androl will receive no outside help. Bulen and other Borderlanders give their lives for small, but meaningful causes in their battle. Their sacrifices buy time, but Agelmar tells Lan that even so, they will eventually retreat and give up the land their comrades paid for in blood. Each painful decision is made in the name of duty, necessary evils meant to improve their marginal chances against the Trollocs. Lan grudgingly realizes he will abandon his lost home of Malkier yet again, because duty to his fellow men compels this grim course of action.
Through the preparations, the author maintains each character’s personality, highlighting the unique way in which they think instead of committing solely to plot-based descriptions. Elayne held out for the most advantage when the Dragon’s Peace was signed, and now Egwene can’t help but lament that all of the choices arrayed before her undermine her authority, regarding Elayne’s place at the head of the armies: Refusing her would set a bad precedent. As would obeying her.
Egwene also keeps up her intense hatred of the Seanchan, despite that humanity needs the two forces to be allies. Egwene embraces the use of the name Leilwin for the hated Seanchan woman Egeanin, happy to remind her that she is less than nothing in Egwene’s eyes.
Despite the overwhelming military aspects of the story, small introspective moments point to the possibility that some non-violent means may give the key to victory. Lan prefers to use Aes Sedai as useful tools rather than weapons, and Rand considers grand philosophical questions as he evaluates his chances for success. Was the flame alive? It ate, it moved on its own. You could smother it, so in a way it breathed. What was it to be alive? Could an idea live? A world without the Dark One. A world without evil. There have been clues in earlier books as well, notably Verin’s assertion that the Last Battle would not be fought in the way that Rand imagined. Little reminders such as this one will keep the reader from being distraught if the greatest battle of all time isn’t resolved through battle.
Elayne and Rand share a last night together, exchanging gifts and revealing their deepest feelings and secrets. Elayne represents Rand’s present, while Aviendha and Min were his past and future. Elayne embodies Andor, especially now that Caemlyn is burned. Andor itself represents a set of morals and ideals that Rand was raised with, given to him by Tam. Through these ideals, Elayne represents what is best in Rand, the core of his being, his shining heart, like the gleaming city on the hill, the oldest and most respected of the Nations to rise after Hawkwing’s empire shattered. Elayne is all that is good, and when Rand tells her who he is now, her reaction is acceptance and love, unlike anyone else’s.  
Writing Lessons:
Keep your characters in character, no matter what exciting events are taking place.

Monday, 17 December 2012

Towers of Midnight - Chapters 21-22

In this section, the chronology gets confusing.
When Perrin’s scouts report back, readers get their first strong inkling that Perrin’s storyline is chronologically out of synch with the other ones. The reader requires some thought to sort it out. Mat’s letter established the timing of his storyline, and his meeting with Elayne establishes her chronology as well, though oddly she hasn’t commented on Rand’s mood or location sufficiently to say whether events take place before or after the final scene of The Gathering Storm. Egwene’s and Rand’s scenes are obviously placed after The Gathering Storm.
The confusing order of events has been pointed out as one of the major flaws of Towers of Midnight, even though other books had events take place in different locales without strong indications of when they occur relative to each other, primarily because they did not affect each other. Rand’s epiphany was a turning point and could have been a focus of suspense, but in this book the suspense centers on Perrin and Mat and other players, and discovering whether they survived their own perils while Rand was turning inward and ignoring them.
Confusion could have been reduced by establishing earlier in the story some stronger links to other pivotal moments in other plotlines. Alternatively, a two line preface explaining the chronology to readers would have instantly resolved confusion, but could have been seen as a radical departure from the customary format.
Aiel Wise Ones dismiss the idea of an alliance with the Seanchan, despite the fact that Rand has been working towards that very goal. Morgase learns, finally, that the Forsaken Rahvin was behind her behaviour during her final months as queen. Balwer tells Perrin he is content with his current station in life.
Ituralde’s forces panic and run before the Trolloc onslaught. A Saldaean soldier named Yoeli leads a charge to save Ituralde’s men and bring them inside the city despite orders not to. Once again, people work together, trusting to their own judgment over that of a being placed above them.
As a counterpoint, Gawyn can’t simply do what Egwene wishes, he must follow his own judgment on how to behave. This leads him to stop an assassination attempt on her which was in reality a trap designed to apprehend Mesaana. While he stopped the Seanchan Bloodknives, he inadvertently alerted Mesaana to the trap.
In Caemlyn, Mat plans his entry to the Tower of Ghenjei, and seeks out Birgitte for advice. She tells him a harrowing tale of her own demise in a world where time and space made no sense. Mat’s vulnerability is increased, since in addition to having no foxhead medallion to protect him from the gholam, even his luck offers scant hope of surviving the journey into the Tower of Ghenjei. Unrelated, though adding to the sense of impending doom, Elayne is in trouble, providing the first real cliffhanger ending to a chapter.
Mat encounters some street toughs and battles them in a seemingly pointless scene. Let’s look more closely:
Brooding as he walks the streets, the eerie solitude feels like an opportunity for the gholam to strike. He randomly stumbles upon a robbery, and three toughs leap out to mug him. Mat is relieved to see people instead of something worse.
Mat uses his staff instead of his sword, confounding his first attacker. Mat drops him with one swing and he falls into a second cutpurse, whom Mat quickly knocks out. The third man’s hesitation gives Mat the chance to leap towards him, knock him senseless, then toss a knife into the leader’s throat. This is pure action, but has little meaning, which is why it takes place so quickly.
Mat rambles some nonsense at the man he saved from the muggers, then that man recognizes Mat. Mat disarms him with his scarf, then launches two daggers into the man’s eyes, metaphorically becoming unseen by his opponent. Mat finds a paper with his own face on it, a reminder that Darkfriends and the Forsaken are looking for him. Unmentioned is the fact that wild rumours about him are circulating throughout the city, drawing unwanted attention.
Aside from acting as a reminder of the dangers Mat faces, this short battle offers little beyond a display of Mat’s prowess. Any intimidation created by the reminder about the Forsaken is undone by the astonishing quickness he dispatches his foes with. In this instance, physical action is confused with meaningful action, and the casual way in which Mat kills is contrary to other plotlines in which violence is intently avoided.

Writing Lessons:
Action can’t exist for action’s sake, it should be meaningful to the character or the story.

Saturday, 24 November 2012

The Gathering Storm - Chapters 40-42

In this intense section, Egwene saves the White Tower, while Rand doesn’t save Arad Doman
Two more intense scenes take place. Egwene’s defense of the White Tower is action-packed, but more importantly is filled with intense emotion. It is the emotions felt by Egwene, Adelorna, and the reader which give the scene such intensity.  Similarly, but almost a polar opposite, Rand’s scene is filled with a very different intense emotion, one which comes from a complete lack of action and Rand’s cold frustration about it.
Through 70 pages set in and near the White Tower, Egwene rises from the despairing depths described in her cell, to regain her place as a Novice. Novice quarters seem opulent compared to where she was, and might have constituted a victory, but her meteoric rise continues. She leads a group of Novices, which lets her channel more of the One Power, which lets her acquire a sa’angreal, which lets her save Aes Sedai, even the head of the Green Ajah, which leads to her standing at the forefront of the Tower’s defense.
Her quick ascendance is not simply a matter of having it handed to her. She was released from her cell because Elaida decided Egwene was the wrong recipient of her ire. Elaida acknowledged that Egwene was undeserving of her imprisonment. Verin’s diary was given out of respect for what Egwene had accomplished so far. The Novices turned to her because no one else looked out for them, and Egwene did, giving them courage, direction, and entrusting them with secret knowledge. Each step upward is a logical outcome of Egwene’s behaviour, not her abilities, making her victory one of character, not plot. Every sufferance she has endured pays its dividends now, and they accumulate rapidly, until she is wielding more power than anyone in the Tower ever has.
Once Egwene is backed by a circle, the Seanchan cannot shield her since the a’dam prevents them from forming circles strong enough. Each and every damane literally needs someone looking over their shoulder to control their behaviour. This mechanism is a blatant metaphor for the ability of a group of people standing united overcoming difficult obstacles, and the inability of strictly controlled people to stand against a united group. Robert Jordan first knew what messages he intended to convey in his story, and then developed the mechanics of using the One Power to directly represent them. It’s a clever and powerful way to make sure your story doesn’t go off track with some unintended metaphor or message.
Throughout the Battle, Egwene must overcome her dire fear of being retaken by sul’dam and made to serve. The progression of emotions Egwene feels is impressed on the reader with language which uses strong emotion bearing words. Her initial fear and panic is replaced by hope, then certitude, then righteous fury:
And she couldn’t channel enough Power to light a candle, let alone fight back.
Soldiers and sul’dam. With those leashes. Egwene shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. The cool, seamless metal. The nausea, the degradation, the panic, despair, and – shamefully – guilt at not serving her mistress to the best of her abilities. She remembered the haunted look of an Aes Sedai as she was broken. Most of all, she remembered her own terror. The terror of realizing that she would be just like the others, eventually. Just another slave, happy to serve.
She wouldn’t let them leash her again. She had to run! She had to hide, flee, escape… No! She pushed herself upright. No, she would not flee. She was Amyrlin.
“Come,” she said, striding forward, holding to her tiny bit of the Power like a drowning woman clinging to a rescue rope.
She smiled at the thrill of it. She could feel Nicola, sense her fear, her emotions bubbling over. Egwene had been part of enough circles to know how to separate herself from Nicola, but Egwene remembered the first time, how she had felt swept into something far larger than herself.
She held it reverently for a moment, then reached and pulled the One Power through it. An awesome, almost overpowering, torrent of power flooded through her.
The White Tower would not fall while she was Amyrlin! Not without a fight to rival the Last Battle itself.
Adelorna is head of the Green Ajah, and to represent that only Egwene can save the Tower, the logical person to show in a state of unreadiness is Adelorna. Had more space been available, the author might have shown a progression of more and more powerful Aes Sedai being collared, or fleeing, ending with Adelorna.
She teetered on the exposed ledge, looking out upon a sky filled with terrible monsters and lines of fire. She stumbled back with a cry, turning away from the hole.
Adelorna screamed in denial, pushing at the shield. The third woman calmly knelt and snapped a silver collar on Adelorna’s neck.
Adelorna turned hesitantly. A woman in white stood atop the rubble a short distance away, a massive halo of power surrounding her, her arm outstretched toward toward the fleeing soldiers, her eyes intense. The woman stood like vengeance itself, the power of saidar like a storm around her.
“What if they’re carrying captives?” Adelorna asked, watching one of the beasts fall amid Egwene’s flames. “Then those captives are better dead,” Egwene said, turning to her. “Trust me, I know this.”
Those eyes were so calm, so in control.
“If I left, it wouldn’t have been fleeing you, Adelorna, it would have been abandoning you. I am the Amyrlin Seat. My place is here.”
Saerin leads the Tower’s defense, poorly in her estimation. As a figure of authority, she too has to be shown falling second to Egwene in order to complete her ascension to the pinnacle of power. Her calm demeanor is eventually shaken by understanding that Egwene is beating back the Seanchan.
“I told them we were organizing a formal command center here. Most seemed to think that was a good idea, though many were too tired, too shocked or too dazed to respond with much else besides a nod.”
“A pity,” Saerin said. “They like to call themselves the Battle Ajah, after all. Well that leaves me to organize the fighting.”
What she didn’t mention was how embarrassed she was. The Aes Sedai had spent centuries guiding kings and influencing wars, but now – with their sanctuary assaulted – they had proven woefully inadequate in defending it.
“This is a disaster!” an angry voice shouted.
“The novices’ quarters?” Saerin said. That seemed even more ridiculous. “How in the world…” She trailed off, eyes widening slightly. “Egwene.”
At last we see Egwene in full vengeful radiance, having laid claim to her position through strength of character, overcoming her fears, and sheer force of will.
Each faceless Seanchan that Egwene struck down seemed to be Renna in her mind’s eye.
The attack below was breaking off, the entire raid focusing on Egwene.
Egwene was part of the fires that burned in the Tower, bloodying the sky with their flames, painting the air with their smoke. She almost seemed not a being of flesh, but one of pure Power, sending judgment to those who had dared bring war on the Tower itself. Blasts of lightning stormed from the sky, the clouds churning above. Fire sprouted from her hands.
Siuan leads Egwene’s rescue, fulfilling Min’s Viewing. She and Bryne both wrongfully assume that some inconsistency exists because Bryne could not have fulfilled the Viewing unless he had come along, but it is obvious that death would have awaited him at some imminent later moment without Siuan in the revel camp to protect him.
Completing Egwene’s ascension, her rival Elaida is captured, vacating the Amyrlin Seat and leaving only Egwene standing. Elaida’s bullying and stern rule have irked readers and characters alike since the earliest parts of the series. It may be as Egwene later declares that no one deserves collaring by the Seanchan, but Elaida certainly comes closest. Readers can’t help but feel that events have worked out for the best with her unhappy captivity and a new name that sounds suspiciously like Suffer.
Ironically, for things to work out for the best in the long run, Elaida will have to be inspired by Egwene to keep Traveling out of the Seanchan’s hands. She just may have the requisite stubbornness, and could redeem herself by following in Egwene’s footsteps.
Rand’s cold detachment is made evident with words that have no emotional weight to them, even in situations where the circumstances are heavily emotional. This is epitomized with “It is not my problem, Rand thought, not looking at the people. I did everything I could.” His mood and the futility of his efforts are mirrored by the spoilage of food, as every last grain in Arad Doman is fouled. “What Arad Doman needs, nobody can give.”
Futility is also prominent in Lews Therin’s concern that the names of women in Graendal’s fortress will never be known, and the list of women killed by him and Rand will remain incomplete. His concern is so trivial, so preposterous, but Rand can’t see that his own intentions for Arad Doman and the world were equally far-fetched.
Writing Lessons:
Use emotion to create intensity.

Sunday, 18 November 2012

The Gathering Storm - Chapters 28-30

In this section, the Heroes get a taste of the wrong choice.
Mat is in Hinderstap when the sun goes down, and the villagers turn insane as soon as the last of the light slips behind the mountains. This is yet another of the series’ metaphors that cut across the various storylines, as Mat experiences a village outside the Light, representative of Rand’s moral trajectory. With no guiding set of morals, the inhabitants turn on one another quickly and savagely. There are a few subtle, and a few direct hints of this in the text: The village was dark. Not a light burned, or there didn’t seem to be an ounce of humanity left in them, or Thom’s analysis:  It’s as if the darkness itself intoxicates them, as if the Light itself has forsaken them, leaving then only to the Shadow. Even Mat and his followers are dragged down to that level because the danger and the darkness limit their ability to act as morally as they should with unarmed villagers.
This bubble of evil, like several others before, not only do nasty impossible things but also symbolize current events on the book, particularly with respect to Rand’s character. Were all the bubbles of evil veiled symbols of Rand’s mood? If so, the author managed to hide the fact well with subtlety. Recent bubbles of evil are easier to match to Rand’s mood. The bubbles of evil also began only after Rand took Callandor. Is holding Callandor what makes the Dragon one with the land? Did the bubbles of evil start off somewhat gentle and get nastier as Rand’s mood got darker and darker?  If these are attuned to Rand, and not the Dark One, what does that mean? I’m leaning towards an eventual revelation that the Dark One can’t simply be killed or sealed away, he is now part of Rand, or always was metaphorically.
Continuing the metaphor of the Light-forsaken, Arad Doman‘s capital city is as hopeless a place as has been shown. No food, no medicine, no order, no hope. It is a second, larger example of a city outside the Light, once again representing Rand’s mental state. Rand sees no one who stands out amongst a people noted for standing out. No one is special. Two balconies collapse at the same time, a ta’veren twist or a bubble of evil, or a result of using the Dark One’s own power? Rand ponders this without offering succour to the wounded. Every person near Rand is suspicious. Merise must be plotting with Cadsuane, Dobraine is Cairhienin, Min must be remembering what he did to her. No one is special enough to elicit emotion from the Dragon Reborn.
Rand recognizes Lanfear may yet live. He resolves to use balefire on her, Graendal, or any Forsaken, still unknowing that the Dark One benefits each time he uses it.
Gawyn can’t get help from the Aes Sedai to rescue Egwene, but is still desperate to do so. Gareth Bryne questions him closely, and the questions are the same ones Rand should be asking himself. The author often shows older mentor characters as already having all the right answers and trying to guide the younger heroes along the right path. What if Egwene doesn’t want help? Will he force her to go? Will he become a bully and a footpad, remarkable only because of his ability to kill or punish those who disagree with him? Gawyn’s journey lags Rand’s, for Gawyn has yet to commit to a path while Rand strides headstrong down the path he has chosen, the path everyone tells him is the wrong one.
Let’s see how a description of Mat’s battle differs from Gawyn’s in the last section:
Chapter 28, Night in Hinderstap begins with the battle already underway, even though the previous chapter was from Mat’s perspective as well. This helps sell the idea that everything changed as though with the flip of a switch. Three attackers are quickly dispatched, then the mood is set with several paragraphs describing screams and yells, primal tactics, and manic violence. Wounded men in the street are finished off by more roving maniacal villagers. The reader now understands the context, and had to do so in the same way Mat did, hurriedly and only after dealing with the immediate problem.  
They see Mat. Mat curses and orders them to mount. There is a loss of control as Mat cannot keep from killing despite his best efforts. The danger and the darkness make it inevitable.
A brief respite as the remaining groups turn on each other. The mayor sees Mat but attacks two other men from behind instead. Mat orders a retreat. The villagers pursue on all fours, like animals.
The difficult battle conditions are described yet again, but no strategy is announced. The effect is one of concern. Mat hasn’t the abilities, the men, the power or the strategy to get out of this situation. Even his eventual decision is instinctive: find Thom and the women, protect them.
On the main street, conditions are worse. Mat charges in headlong. One of his men falls, and Mat goes back for him despite Talmanes’ protests. The strategy is one of necessity, other strategies he could have used such as trampling the attackers are unusable in the darkness. This once more adds to the feeling of loss of control. Traditional tactics are useless since he cannot anticipate the blind stupidity of his attackers. There are no sword-forms, no depictions of graceful mastery, it is all simple, instinctual, desperate moves.
Delarn acts as a man should, distinguishing himself from the mass of shadows, allowing Mat to fight to reach his side. Mat gets Delarn onto his horse, but remains under continual attack. Highlighting the desperation, the sentences become quick and clipped: They just kept coming! Surrounding him! Coming at him from every side. Bloody Ashes!
Thom rides in to save Mat, and Talmanes comes as well, and they all ride towards the Aes Sedai.
The language throughout the battle is heavy on audible sounds instead of sights, treats the foes as indistinguishable and interchangeable creatures, and never gives Mat a chance to think or plan. As a result, it is quite different from any other battle in the series.
 Writing Lessons:
Make scenes original instead of generic by highlighting a few aspects of them differently than expected.

Thursday, 15 November 2012

The Gathering Storm - Chapters 24-27

In this section, the heroes learn that power must not only be wielded, but wielded properly.
Like Rand, Gawyn has the power to do anything he wants, which he displays by casually dispatching a handful of guards in the Rebels’ camp. Bryne criticizes him for it, acknowledging that the power is in his hands, but questioning what he will do with it. What guides Gawyn’s hand? He says love for Egwene does, but he has no actual idea what she wants, he is simply making his best guess. Unlike Rand, a mentor’s intervention doesn’t drive Gawyn away, but gives him pause. Gawyn bristles at his mentor’s scathing words about his mother. Bryne’s point is that the truth may be uncomfortable and may shatter heartfelt illusions, but it must be heard nonetheless. Gawyn would like to believe his mother was special, but she wasn’t in this circumstance, she gets no special dispensation. By extension the same is true for Gawyn and Rand, who both wield great power but will be judged harshly if they do not wield it properly.
With Rand abandoning the Light, and Gawyn poised on the precipice before being hauled back, it’s timely to look in on the Black Ajah Sheriam. There were still many holdouts over Sheriam’s allegiance to the Shadow in the Theoryland forums, some positing that Sheriam must have been turned against her will, since she just could not possibly be evil. Jordan had established her kindly character well, as discussed in posts on The Dragon Reborn, and the fact that she was not confirmed as evil allowed readers to stick to their emotion-based judgment of her. Sanderson uses some of the same techniques here, even as she is finally convincingly revealed as a villainess. Ambiguous phrasing, such as ‘the one who had sometimes lurked inside’ tells readers nothing about whether that person was an interloper or a Great Mistress commanding her, and in proving nothing one way or the other create fertile ground for deeper emotional commitment to deep-held beliefs about Sheriam.
We learn that the Forsaken helped raise Egwene as rebel Amyrlin, in the hope that it would further split the Aes Sedai, and that plan paid off very well until now, when Egwene’s status is rising to that of her title and threatening to heal the rift.
Egwene learns she has escaped the headsman for now, but Elaida’s outburst of rage has only unsteadied her, not toppled her, and she may yet recover. Egwene’s options are very limited, but she maintains she will never kneel to Elaida, and she will continue to resist until her trial, and possible death sentence. She still feels her resistance may provide, even in death, the means to heal the Tower and oust Elaida in time for a better candidate to lead the White Tower in the Last Battle.
Aviendha becomes a Wise One after finally standing up for herself. In a plot similar to Shemerin’s, Aviendha learns that only she can raise or debase herself, the power to establish her own  worth is entirely in her own hands.
Romanda listens to Shemerin’s tale and is disgusted that Elaida could cause such a change in an Aes Sedai. A sudden swarm of beetles ruptures the floor of the tent, a bubble of evil which represents the fate of the rebels, the first beetle a precursor to the others as Shemerin’s treatment presages the treatment the rebels will receive. Romanda burns her tent, unable to contemplate touching things that had been touched by such filth, in effect destroying her identity as thoroughly as Elaida could. She wonders if she could submit to Elaida to save the Tower. Like Gawyn, Aviendha, and the other examples, she now wields the power to decide, but may not have the means to reach a decision.
Mat brings some followers to Hinderstap to gather supplies and have some fun. The question of saving Moiraine comes up again, and Mat realizes that Lanfear may well be trapped too. He wonders if he would save her from a fate amongst the Aelfinn and Eelfinn, even knowing how evil she is. Based on the thought “You’re a fool, Matrim Cauthon. Not a Hero. Just a Fool”, readers should recognize the familiar mindset of the character who will go out of his way to do the right thing. It’s the first time anyone has considered saving one of the Forsaken; most of Rand’s interactions merely confirmed they weren’t interested in being saved. As I’ve posited before, Lanfear has close parallels in the myths of Eve and Pandora, myths which also include their redemption and salvation.
Why not attach that earlier Mat section to this one? Probably to get a bit of humour in before Rand’s grim scene sucked all the smiles out. It’s a surprise when the next chapter is also Mat’s; two in a row from one character for the first time in the book. Splitting the viewpoints changes the flow of the story, and since some of the split scenes involving the same character fit reasonably well together and could have fit the typical Robert Jordan format, it’s further confirmation that this was a stylistic choice of Brandon’s or the editor’s.  
Mat remembers the dagger from Shadar Logoth, a dagger that filled Mat and Padan Fain with all-consuming hatred for the Shadow. Once freed of the dagger, Mat’s carefree attitude is almost opposite to the single-mindedness of purpose that the Shadar Logoth taint filled him with. Mat expressly will do the least possible to rid the world of the Shadow, adopting a live and let live lifestyle, and even contemplating saving dire enemies.
Let’s quickly look at Gawyn’s short battle scene:
The four soldiers are portrayed as competent, taking their duty seriously. Gawyn’s emotions are irritation and anger, fuelled by the soldier’s dismissal of his claims. A cluster of dialogue ends with the sergeant laying a hand on his sword. Words end, action begins.
Gawyn leaps from his horse, an explanation for the strategy behind it is given.
Gawyn begins a sword form, an explanation for the strategy behind it is given.
Gawyn slams into the sergeant, an explanation for the success of the attack is given (wearing helmet the wrong way)
Gawyn repels a few blows, and strikes the halberdiers, an explanation for the necessity of wounding them is given.
Gawyn finishes the battle leaving all four wounded and winded soldiers on the ground.
The author succeeds in demonstrating that Gawyn is intensely analytical during battles with immediate and frequent explanations of his actions.
Writing Lessons:
Where you place explanations for actions in the story affects how readers perceive those actions.

Thursday, 1 November 2012

The Gathering Storm - Chapters 10-12

In this section, the heroes’ pride gets in the way.
Ituralde can’t end his unwinnable war against the Seanchan. The best outcome he can hope for now is that future generations will remember his attempt to oust the invaders. Just as he orders his men to dig in and prepare for a final confrontation with an even greater Seanchan force, Rand arrives to offer him a way out. Hope that his country may yet prevail causes Ituralde to follow Rand’s orders, sending him and his army to the Borderlands.
I note the size of the Domani and Seanchan forces are far greater than in any previous battles, even Dumai’s Wells. The short offhanded treatment of this epic battle compared to the momentous buildup to earlier smaller battles reinforces that the Last Battle’s size and scope will be far beyond what has been seen to date.
Rand is beginning to talk about his overall strategy for the Last Battle. Other heroes have been slowly priming for their part as well, and if they aren’t exactly preparing for it, they at least acknowledge it is coming soon, and are shifting their attention towards it.
Aviendha quenches a fire started by a man who spontaneously combusted, as a Pattern breakdown or a small bubble of evil. I am beginning to thin of the bubbles of evil as a misdirection ploy by the author. First, ta’veren events are explained as improbable vents being realized. Shortly after, random events began to happen that are completely improbable, and they are attributed to the Dark One by a knowledgeable character: Moiraine. Then, the Pattern itself begins to break down, causing more localized and impossible events to take place. These are distinct from bubbles of evil only because they don’t unleash some nightmarish power on spectators, these are neutral events at best. The common thread is that they are all random. It seems to me that these random events may serve a purpose if they are leading up to the discovery that they can be made non-random, and that it is possible for individuals to create or prevent them from occurring. Such a discovery would strongly resemble how such events are dealt with in Tel’aran’rhiod, and would fit in snugly with several themes, such as taking control and responsibility for events, and not blaming them on others, and that every man creates his own destiny. It ties in with my theory that the Bore is in Tel’aran’rhiod, and how force of will and identity can overcome the greatest evils. If this speculation is untrue, then ta’veren, bubbles of evil, and pattern skews are simply the random events they are portrayed as, shrewd inventions to help an author move the story along and make the occasional point. So far, the author placed every story element with purpose, and in this case I sense there was intent to misdirect readers by making these appear to be random, so that the final point of the story could be made to greater effect.
Aviendha suffers from both personal and cultural pride, which prevents her from asking for guidance, or from receiving it if she asks. Misdirection is used here as well, as Aviendha’s sound judgment in Wise One matters is displayed repeatedly, while she mistakenly believes she has run afoul of some unknown and very serious taboo. All previous Aiel behaviour shave been strongly linked to ji’e’toh and shame, so when Aviendha proclaims early on that she has violated some unknown rule, the reader immediately finds this plausible, even if they do suspect it has more to do with that other Aiel trait which is often displayed: their sense of humour.
When Aviendha puts out the fire, she has a brief pause as she slowly comprehends why the wetlanders are looking for buckets. To portray the behaviour of an outsider or alien, it is effective to have them misunderstand or overlook a fact which is self-evident to the reader. The cultural norm of using a bucket of water to put out a fire is foreign to Aviendha, highlighting her own foreignness.
As a nearly opposite example, use of the terms ‘flow’ and ‘pressure’ is appropriate in descriptive text, or technical discussion, but seem strange coming from a Wise One’s mouth. Brandon Sanderson has a firm technical grasp of many scientific concepts which he puts to effective use in his writing, but the characters do not necessarily share that understanding. Of all characters that should have the least understanding of fluid flow, the Aiel rank highest, due to their lack of any substantial amount of fluid to study or observe.
In the White Tower, Meidani wants help, but is prevented from asking by an oath of obedience rather than her pride. Egwene realizes something is amiss, and becomes the willing partner to help Meidani find a loophole.
Egwene meets the Black Ajah Hunters, and brings them to her side after a fierce debate. Egwene is pleased with the progress she is making, and both she and the reader assume this is a good thing, yet she is steadily undermining the White Tower as she tries to build it back up. She at least is beginning to recognize that the good of the Tower should be placed ahead of her crusade, and would back down if the Tower could be firmly united and strong again. That isn’t possible with Elaida as Amyrlin. Egwene’s quest to tear down the Tower to rebuild it has similarities to Rand’s debate over whether to break the Seals to seal the Dark One’s prison again.
Traveling is becoming widespread knowledge. Control over who could weave Gateways has been important to control certain plot elements, and has some similarities to how Tel’aran’rhiod access has been slowly spreading. As per the suggestion above, the lessons and concerns surrounding the spreading knowledge of Traveling would be similar to those I’d expect if the ultimate solution and lesson of the story is giving mankind the ability to alter their own reality, as though they were in Tel’aran’rhiod.
Writing Lessons:
Show outsiders misunderstanding or overlooking things that regular characters take for granted.
Misdirect readers by showing things or observations that they will take for granted.

Tuesday, 23 October 2012

Knife of Dreams - Summary

A friend said, after skimming this blog, that I appeared to be shredding the author’s work, and wondered if I disliked the books. I can see how anyone looking at the fan sites might take our intense discussion of the minute details as harsh criticism, but we’re only willing to dedicate that much effort in discussing them because we enjoyed the books so thoroughly, and want to extract every last nuance we can. Particularly with a work that is layered like The Wheel of Time, where every passage has meaning, and every plot is inspired by several myths and legends, these discussions can take on many facets, combing over the same ground and finding new jewels to admire.
Knife of Dreams was the last book Robert Jordan wrote in its entirety before his untimely death. His writing had a flavour and depth unlike anything else I’ve found. Which is why I’m spending so much time analyzing it.
After the slow pace of Crossroads of Twilight, Knife of Dreams promises very early on to deliver resolution and action. The author accomplished this by establishing several countdowns early on, intending to dispel any doubts that this book would repeat the letdown of the previous book, which was at least partially due to the wait for its publication.
Beginning here, several plotlines directly mention the Last Battle is imminent, creating tension as readers recognize the heroes are not ready, forcing them to make unexpected concessions. Conflicts involving tens of thousands of Trollocs are handled easily, providing a reference that can be used in future books. A hundred thousand men in a battle is no longer a big deal, not when a dozen channelers can face it down without taking a scratch. Echoes of this are seen in Perrin’s rescue, where tens of thousands are involved once again, yet the victory is so overwhelming that the specific individuals he sought to rescue are unharmed by his assault of the city. Hundreds of Elayne’s best soldiers are disintegrated by just one Aes Sedai with a rod that shoots balefire, proving that warfare has escalated to a level where only the number of channelers matter, armies are inconsequential when facing them.  The unsurprising surprise revelation that the Black Tower is recruiting men to fight for the Dark One instead of the heroes is enough to put true worry in the reader’s heart. Hundreds of evil channelers could unleash even more destruction and death than in any of the conflicts presented in this book. One thing Robert Jordan has succeeded admirably at is to slowly build up towards the final conflict, edging the scale of battles slightly upward with each battle, and each book. The slow build is a distinctive feature of his writing, the reason why some fans think it’s too descriptive, and others keep finding layers of meaning.
The theme of Knife of Dreams leads into the Last Battle very nicely. The Knife of Dreams refers to the razor-thin margin between victory and defeat. In all of the conflicts in the book, small events turned the course of battle, or could have derailed the heroes’ plans. Just as the scale of the conflicts sets the low end of the standard for upcoming conflicts, the margin of victory established will always be close, and will be narrowest in the Last Battle.
Another theme running through the book is a question about how well the characters know each other. Mat and Tuon’s courtship shows them starting off uncertain about each other but growing confident in their understanding of each other. Rand is hopeful he can reach alliance with the strangers from Seanchan, whom he hardly knows at all. Traitors are exposed in Caemlyn without much ado, just a cynical acknowledgement that people lie. And cheat. The sections dealing with Faile and her romance with Rolan clearly state that she has remained faithful to Perrin, yet the descriptive text is a metaphor for her guilt over her situation, and her attempts to conceal secrets that are to widely known. I was sufficiently shocked at this contradiction, I had to go back to Winter’s Heart to reread when Perrin wakes in Berelain’s tent, and found the text could be interpreted as Perrin asking Berelain what alibi she has crafted. Whether either Perrin or Berelain cheated is not the point so much as them questioning whether the other did. In both cases, the text reads as though Perrin and Faile are unreliable narrators, refusing to acknowledge what happened even to themselves. In a preview of what Rand will later go through, the young couple instantly forgive each other anything that happened while they were apart, accepting that despite their love for each other, neither of them is without flaws. Concealing events that are the opposite of what the characters lived through while showing their point of view is an incredible accomplishment.
If you think you know Perrin and Faile well enough to say they never cheated on each other, ask yourself if you knew Robert Jordan’s writing well enough to say he wouldn’t have written such a thing, or conceal it if they did cheat.
Writing Lessons:
Make use of unreliable narrators to defy expectations and conceal key information.

Saturday, 6 October 2012

Knife of Dreams - Chapters 13-16

In this section, Elayne has no control over the little things.
The price Elayne must pay for her efforts to take the throne is discomfort and annoyance. She and her warder are exhausted. The mercenaries won’t do as she commands. She continues to endure the inconveniences of pregnancy and the uninformed opinions of helpful followers who want the best for her baby. And in this case, by climbing the city walls in the rain to see her opponents flee, she is drenched. There has been a continual series of assaults on the city walls, the defense of which must be led by someone. Who else is there to do that? Birgitte laments, echoing Elayne’s feelings. A small start towards a solution comes in the form of an Andoran officer who has led ten thousand men to the Palace by Gateway.
A series of encounters in the palace prevents Elayne and her followers from changing into dry clothes. Former damane are beginning to assert their new identities. Sul’dam ready to admit they can channel will be sent back to Seanchan to undermine the foundations of their society. Vandene is still leading a search for the Black Ajah in the Palace. The Sea Folk pester her with questions about their missing apprentice. Every person she meets tells her to change out of her wet clothes. When the Sea Folk Windfinder repeats this advice for the umpteenth time, Elayne screams in frustration. The notion of someone in a position of command being told to do the same thing over and over by everyone proves to be quite funny.
Even the Palace itself seems to conspire against Elayne, as she gets lost. This is the first time a new sign of the Pattern breaking down is shown; physical locations rearrange themselves. The author is quite intent on making sure readers understand that nowhere in the world is safe from these random events or from the bubbles of evil like the dark clouds of lightning over the Inner City.
Aviendha has the ability to tell what the function of a ter’angreal is. There is no basis for this Talent. It is simply the fact that other rare skills are Talents that allows the author to throw a new Talent into the story and have the reader accept it at face value. By now there have been enough Talents and new weaves shown, some surprising even the Forsaken, that one more seems plausible. This Talent for knowing what ter’angreal do avoids author intrusion by way of explanation and the lengthy info-dumps that might have come with it. The Talent is made more believable by introducing it gently, showing Aviendha’s progression from vague understanding to sure knowledge. To diminish any remaining scorn from readers about introducing the Talent, Aviendha is summoned away from Elayne’s side before she can catalogue the contents of the ter’angreal cache in its entirety. An ability that can’t be used is more likely to be accepted than one that is revealed just as it is needed or useful.
Elayne receives a ter’angreal in the shape of a knife from Aviendha that may be able to make her undetectable to the Dark One and his minions. She loans Aviendha an angreal in exchange. This ter’angreal could be a real Knife of Dreams, but its absence in the rest of the story infers that the title is more of a metaphor, as in the quote from the beginning of the book, describing the margin between victory and defeat in each of the characters’ plotlines.
After looking over her meal, the Aiel Wise Ones pester her about getting a midwife. Elayne angrily agrees, thinking she’ll be just one more woman to make sure her meals are wretched.
Elayne tells some mercenary captains to be happy with what they are being paid and firmly threatens to throw them out of the city if they show signs of further grievances.
An expert pickpocket is brought before Elayne and set the task of following Captain Mellar, who has lost the trust of Elayne and Birgitte. Could Shiaine’s plan all along have been to plant an obvious flunky in Elayne’s midst so she could lure her out of the Palace? There are many ways such a plan could go wrong, but maybe no more than if the original assassins had tried to kidnap her and smuggle her out of the Palace undetected instead.
Writing Lessons:
Conceal contrived plot elements by making them the latest in a series of similar elements that were not contrived.

Friday, 28 September 2012

Knife of Dreams - Prologue Part 1

In this section, secondary characters face danger.
Crossroads of Twilight focused on the weighty choices each character had to make. The opening sequences of Knife of Dreams keep that theme, but also go further to reveal the dangers and risks faced as a result of the choices made by each character.
Galad faces his commander in single combat because Morgase deserved justice. Ituralde raids the Seanchan after recruiting disparate forces to his side in the last book. Suroth hardly hesitates to seek Tuon’s death after a tortuous search for her turned up nothing. Pevara is hand picked to seek alliance with the Asha’man after recognizing the need for the Red Ajah to bond them. Pevara also learns that Elaida can offer no protection in the Black Ajah hunt she has undertaken. In each case, the character has previously or just now committed to a course of action, and faces real danger as a result.
The first point of view is Galad, followed immediately by Ituralde, and both contain a battle scene. The utter lack of physical conflict in Crossroads of Twilight is abruptly brought to an end, and these sections signal a welcome change in the pacing. The prologue serves as an advertisement for the book to follow, and the choice of action scenes to start the book off is meant to reassure readers that the slow part is in the past.
I will examine Galad’s point of view sequence in detail, to once again examine Robert Jordan’s technique when describing battle.
From the very beginning, descriptions match Galad’s mood and intent. He walks down a straight road, his shadow stretches ahead symbolizing that his actions may have far-reaching effects, he spares no thought for the nearby Lost Mines of Aelgar which symbolizes his unwillingness to be distracted. Every detail of the location was built around Galad’s mission, and was not created that way for any other reason. Building this part of the world around Galad, as opposed to creating it before knowing when it would show up in the story, if at all, saves time and effort, and gives immediacy to the description that might otherwise be hard to achieve. Similarly, the description of Valda’s manor house represents Valda himself, neatly summarized in the line: “An image of normality where nothing was normal”.
As Galad enters the grounds, his opponents are fleshed out: Asunawa can only be called to account by the Lord Captain Commander, a man who demands obedience. Valda dresses richly, wearing a ring outside his gauntlet to symbolize the even greater force that demands his obedience. These relationships and symbols demonstrate how their approval matters to a soldier such as Galad.
Valda disapproves of Galad’s appearance, as he dismounts, which is contrasted with the obsequious actions of the grooms who take his steed. Valda tries to assert his own independence from the Seanchan through small actions, yet brooks no such behaviour from his own men.
Trom brings his own odd actions under the umbrella of correct actions, by telling Valda he is carrying out his duty under the law. This is underscored by his bow to Valda, which is precisely as deep as required by protocol.
Asunawa, worried about appearances before their new Seanchan masters, tries to take control of the situation but is rebuffed by Valda. Valda invokes the law and the Light, adding a new top level to the hierarchy of relationships introduced earlier. He sets the rules and judgment, intending for himself to be seen as occupying that topmost level, synonymous with the Light and uncontestable.
Trom acknowledges the conditions set for the Trial beneath the Light, and in so doing associates himself with the law and the Light.
At this point, the reasons for Galad’s challenge and accusation are revealed, his mother suffered at Valda’s hands, indicating an emotional weakness. This personal connection also elicits the reader’s emotional involvement.
Valda has no time to answer the charge before Asunawa tries to circumvent the trial by arresting Galad. Valda would have been willing to respect Asunawa’s actions despite how they undermine his own authority. The Children of the Light ringing the courtyard draw swords. They have heard a higher authority be invoked, and they now answer to it, not to Valda nor Asunawa, despite the likelihood that those closest to Valda are his cronyest cronies.
Valda takes credit for his men’s actions, again attempting to place himself at the topmost level of the hierarchy. They drew swords by his will, not their own. He denies the accusation.
Representing the soldiers, Valda’s closest aide, Kashgar, is reluctant to help him. They want to see who is right, under the Light, by the conditions set down in law.
We are reminded of Valda’s skill, by way of his heron-mark blade. Valda flings his own accusations at Galad, reminding everyone of his associations with Aes Sedai. Both of these points undermine confidence in Galad, and the soldiers have doubts now, represented by Dain Bornhald’s sudden worry and shifting of feet.
Byar gives Galad advice, warning about Valda’s favoured techniques and a possible weakness. Galad analyzes what he has been told, and we have renewed confidence in his ability. Galad is surprised and thankful for the help.
Valda tries to take charge, but Trom puts him in his place, taking over the role of arbiter smoothly thanks to the groundwork he laid earlier. Galad worries that if he loses Trom will have made an enemy of Valda, but realizes that he likely already had. Nonetheless, Galad has added the allies he came here with to the people whose lives are at stake in this battle.
Galad sees the Questioners for what they are, even if Bornhald doesn’t. He tells Bornhald to watch them closely, thinking ahead to the end of the Trial.
The ritual beginning to the trial is recited. Valda is arrogant and confident, and tries to anger Galad by humiliating him by insulting his mother.  Through his rank and his rape of Morgase, Valda is in effect a monstrous father figure, a standard villain in fantasy stories.
Galad’s weakness is his emotional reaction to his mother’s fate, but he overcomes it with the Oneness, taught to him by true father figures such as Gareth Bryne and Henre Haslin. Bornhald is alarmed about the anger on Galad’s face, but Byar says not to distract him. With the Oneness, Galad cannot be distracted by himself, and once again a dip in confidence has been restored.
Valda shows off his swordsmanship, and the heron-mark blade he earned when he was younger than Galad is now. Galad reckons his odds are poor, and resolves to take a fatal hit if that is what is required to kill Valda.  
All of this has been prelude, now the battle begins.
Valda acts as Byar said he would: despite two verbal feints and a physical one targeting Galad’s head, Valda’s true target was the thigh. Seeing through the deception, Galad scores an early hit. The sword forms invoke images of the direction the blades move. Plucking the Low Hanging Apple aims at his throat but turns into Leopard’s caress, a grazing attack on his thigh. Galad deflects it with Parting the Silk. The Dove Takes Flight strikes upward but is pushed away by Galad’s circling motion of Kingfisher Circles the Pond. Six other sword forms are named as they dance back and forth, more than enough to make readers believe the battle is going on and on.
Galad quickly fatigues from his wounds and the effort, and knows he must win soon. He uses Valda’s own trick against him, advertising one move while setting up another. He repeatedly tries the same sword form, executing it more slowly than he is able, even allowing himself to take hits to the thigh to enhance the illusion that he has lost his speed. On the fifth try, as Valda’s blade automatically reacts, Galad unleashes his speed, changing the stroke to get past Valda’s sword and cut his belly open.
Valda dies, messily. Galad is fatigued and hurt, and realizes his vengeance is incomplete; his mother’s return is the only thing that can grant him peace.
The Children of the Light clap in support. They express concern over Galad’s wounds, while Valda lies forgotten on the ground.
Galad expresses concern for all the Children of the Light: those whom Asunawa may target and those held captive by the Seanchan. By stating so openly, Galad takes on the rank of Lord Captain Commander and the role of the Light itself; all men are his concern. The Children of the Light will march to the Last Battle, allied with whoever opposes the Dark One and the Seanchan. Marching to offer the same to the other Children of the Light in Nassad, despite the possible danger if they refuse, Galad presses on. “He had to go. It was the right thing to do.”
Robert Jordan used the prelude to the battle to yank emotion and expectations up and down several times before the physical conflict began. The outcome of the battle affects more than just the characters directly involved, but in their case it affects their identity. Galad’s journey is a micro-version of Rand’s own expected journey. Galad is shown as having done things right, giving an example for Rand to either follow or ignore.
Writing Lessons:
The prelude to a battle is the place to establish the stakes, relationships, and emotional ups and downs that will give the battle its intensity.

Monday, 27 August 2012

Winter's Heart - Chapters 33-35

In this section, Rand recovers from a horrible blunder, and his allies prevail in an epic battle.
Rand is on shaky ground as he leaves to assassinate the Asha’man. Ignoring his recent understanding that killing the Asha’man changes nothing in the long run, he rushes off to play at killing, leaving the duty of keeping him on a moral trajectory to his friends. Min implores him to see the danger to himself, while Alivia thinks killing is a game, thinking of it as cavalierly as Rand does. Nynaeve is the last one to have a say in Rand’s actions, her access to the One Power is the only means by which Rand can gain entry to the villains’ apartment.
Nynaeve belatedly realizes what she has involved herself in. She didn’t think before; she thought of it as an adventure, confronting Darkfriends, renegade Asha’man. But Rand and her husband are going in to execute the men, to kill them before they know someone is in the room with them. Nynaeve left the Two Rivers to protect the boys from the wicked world and the ways of Aes Sedai, and at the last she utterly fails to act as Rand’s conscience. Kill them in their sleep, if you can, she says, giving her blessing to their actions.
As is the author’s habit, the actions which immediately follow Nynaeve’s capitulation are a metaphor for Rand’s moral situation: Something unseen wrapped snugly around Rand’s chest beneath his arms, and slowly he rose into the air, floating higher until he drifted over the edge of the overhanging eave. The invisible harness vanished, and his boots dropped to the sloping roof, sliding a little on the damp gray slates. Crouching, he moved back on all fours.
There is almost no foreshadowing of Fain’s appearance, which can frustrate a reader. At this point Jordan assumes readers are familiar with characters from several books back and haven’t started with this one. It’s a fair assumption, yet the sudden appearance of a returning character can confuse as easily as excite the reader.
Fain represents the evil of Aridhol, a nation that fought the Shadow using the Shadow’s own tactics, eventually destroying itself and tainting every pebble of the capital. Fain’s appearance at this juncture is highly symbolic. No sooner has Rand’s conscience abandoned him than Fain appears, dancing out of reach, goading Rand down the wrong path; the path Mordeth followed. The scene is prophetic, showing Rand’s eventual fate with a twin of sorts who has already succumbed.
Rand instinctively reacts to the illusion, striking Fain and driving him away. Lan is hurt. Rand cracks a joke and Lan does not laugh. He only laughs for Nynaeve, a reminder of her role as conscience and soul for both Rand and Lan.
Cadsuane, representing the Light itself, whisks to the scene and berates Nynaeve. If the guards have them, it is because of you. What can Cadsuane do? First, she has heard Rand’s plea to help her, delivered by Verin. Cadsuane and the Light follow strict rules, and keep their promises.
Rand’s prison is a metaphor for the one constructed by himself and Nynaeve. He dwells in darkness, confined in a tight space, a result of his arrogance and abandonment of morals. He remains trapped there until Cadsuane frees him, the fortunate result of his momentary hesitation the day before. Once in that prison, only the Light can free him. Once freed, he can even cleanse the taint. Many of the metaphors and symbolism in the series are subtle, and this feels like a hammer blow in comparison.
The battle at Shadar Logoth is somewhat unconventional. Readers know every single participant in the battle, and have a clear understanding of the battleground, handily described before battle begins. This allows the author to shift viewpoints continually, covering the entire battle hardly ever coming back to any one character.
Elza’s perspective gives the stakes and paints a picture of strong desperation.
Barmellin and Timna show that the battle has far-reaching consequences, greater than even the battle’s participants know.
Cyndane demonstrates sudden motion, conveying surprise, perhaps enough to catch the heroes off guard. She also confirms she is Lanfear reincarnated.
Cadsuane shows how effortlessly the first attack of lightning strikes has been repelled, and counterattacks with devastating force. Holding the opponents at bay is not the problem, Rand and Nynaeve’s stamina is.
Rand’s perspective casts doubt on the effort to cleanse saidin. He has made no progress.
Demandred finds his skulking ineffective, and must flee before a string of barrages erupts the forest into flame. He encounters some opponents face to face and underestimates them. He also offers the third clue of the book that he truly is not Mazrim Taim. Sigh.
Cyndane has figured out how to avoid the sheets of flame that are launched in her direction. This represents the turning point in the battle, the first time the villains are making progress.
Osan’gar reveals he is Dashiva, and mirrors Cyndane’s tactic. The villains are closing in.
Verin underestimates Graendal, and is in a fight for her life.
Eben has been walking and little else, demonstrating that the heroes can’t see the villains approaching. Aran’gar deceives them long enough to get in close.
Cyndane faces Alivia, who is stronger but lacking other advantages. This scene represents the heroes fighting back against these closer incursions, and maybe being on even footing. Maybe.
Moghedien sees a black dome and decides to sit back and let events unfold.
Rand struggles to control the flow of Power. He is succeeding, but can he hold on? His struggle is presented here, just as the other battles have been joined and have uncertain outcome.
Cadsuane’s perspective tells us that Rand’s effort to cleanse the taint is working, and that the villains have vanished for now. She takes advantage of the opportunity to heal Nynaeve, leaving an opening for Osan’gar.
Osan’gar spies the heroes sitting idly and prepares a fatal strike.
Elza is revealed to be Black Ajah, but the compulsion Verin laid lets her rationalize killing Dashiva. This represents the defeat of the villains.
Moghedien sees the black dome vanish. A vacuum is created into which she is pulled. Readers should know she is dead. When there is a threat to a character’s identity, they must overcome it or be destroyed. Moghedien’s character changed forever when she thinks that if she survived this, she would never feel fear again. She is metaphorically dead anyway, so the lack of a body shouldn’t be troubling, and it should be clear that she won’t be resurrected either. If she was, she wouldn’t be Moghedien any more.
Cadsuane surveys the battlefield and tallies the cost of victory.
The battle was filled with revelations, with several secret identities exposed, almost as though their lies could not hold up to the Light represented by the continent-smashing levels of the One Power being used. Stripping away the taint also stripped away their secrets, for the reader at least. Each small focused scene of the battle represented the battle as a whole.
Writing Lessons:
In conflicts, make each scene represent the emotional progression you want the reader to feel as the battle unfolds.