The Wheel of Time Review

The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan is the greatest epic fantasy series written, and will be embraced that way for decades to come because it is not simply about one hero’s battle against evil, it is the inspirational tale of how to battle evil.

The story centers on Rand al'Thor, a kind, intelligent and responsible youth from a remote farm. Narrowly escaping a brutal raid on his home, Rand learns that the malevolent Dark One is seeking him, and he ventures into the world to save his village and ultimately, to fulfill his prophesied destiny and save the world from destruction.

For Rand is the reincarnation of the most infamous man in history, the man titled the Dragon, who pridefully led mankind against the Dark One in a past Age and brought the curse of insanity upon all men who would use the One Power. As his own innate abilities with the One Power grow, Rand too will eventually go mad and endanger everyone he loves.

Rand travels to faraway cities and through hostile wilderness where he meets dozens of complex and well-realized characters from a wealth of distinct cultures.   The Children of the Light see only another madman to be put down, while the factions of One Power wielding women of the White Tower intend to control Rand or sever him from the One Power forever. Kings and Queens seek to capture Rand, subjugate him, exile him, or follow him. Opposing him, the Dark One’s forces include half-animal Trollocs, eyeless Myrddraal, otherworldly tricksters, and thirteen powerful beings released from an ageless prison, all of whom knew Rand in his previous incarnation as the Dragon.

Only a small group of childhood friends and a handful of dedicated allies can help Rand stave off the forces of the Dark One: Perrin, an apprentice blacksmith whose quiet loyalty is continually tested; Egwene, an ambitious young woman who strains against any limits placed upon her; Mat, a rascal who disregards as many rules as he can; Nynaeve, a wilful healer whose stubbornness is matched only by how much she cares about people; Moiraine, a mysterious sorceress from the White Tower who set aside a fortune and a throne to find Rand; Lan, a warrior king sworn to serve Moiraine and avenge the destruction of his kingdom; Thom, a despondent bard who can't resist helping some boys who are in trouble well over their heads. Some of them develop special abilities of their own which combine familiar myths in original ways.

The Wheel of Time balances the narrative between these heroes and many others, expanding to bring in hundreds of characters, all of whom struggle to control their lives against insidious opponents and the tumultuous forces leading Rand towards his ultimate confrontation with the Dark One. Robert Jordan skilfully intertwines the heroes’ quest to shape their identity with the epic scale of a war that puts all of reality at stake, Even the structure of the series matches the characters’ development, as they come face to face with a world that is stranger and more diverse than they ever imagined.

Men and women are equally prominent in principal roles, each sex certain having abilities which are restricted to the other, relationships between the sexes acting as a pivotal part of the plot. Romances play straightforward roles, and are resolved well before the series conclusion, allowing each character to concentrate on defining themselves instead of being defined by their love life.

Robert Jordan developed wonderfully subtle tools to make his world believable, including a highly structured and understandable magic system, repertoires of lost knowledge, inexplicable magic devices with near limitless variations, and characters that bend the laws of probability. Using these tools deftly and sparingly, resolving problems is almost always a matter of character, not magical ability.  Readers have engagingly filled in the blanks where explanations aren’t presented, crafting elaborate theories based on the pieces secreted in the text. Brandon Sanderson brings the series to a resounding climax, easily maintaining the story’s original themes and successfully capturing the elements that made the series beloved to readers.

Each character’s journey mirrors parts of the others’, and each must face the Dark One’s might in their own way, learning the true nature of evil and how to overcome it. Through their violent thrust into adulthood, their loss and fear, their victory and hope, readers will thrill to the adventures of these heroes. The Wheel of Time is rich and exciting, thought-provoking and engaging, and surpasses other epic fantasy stories by being not only enjoyably rewarding, but by establishing a successful model for how to overcome obstacles in life.

This reader’s life turns with The Wheel of Time.

A Memory of Light - Chapters 5-6

In this section, Long-anticipated and hoped-for happy things happen.

With the Last Battle slated to bring mankind to the brink of extinction, the author knows that some upbeat moments are needed to balance out these dire events, or the reader may grow weary. There are several reminders that this is the last quiet time the heroes expect to have, such as Rand’s shower with Aviendha. In the morning, she asks him for a future favour and he agrees to hear it when the time comes.

Rand reveals more of his peaceful weaves as he erects a pavilion with the Power while grass flourishes beneath his feet. Despite that he can wield great destructive power, in these scenes Rand shows off the value of utilitarian weaves which impress as much or more than any aggressive weave might. As much as the assembled people might wish for weaves that can save them, Rand inspires more hope simply by making grass grow.

News from Caemlyn is handled perfunctorily. Egwene and Elayne cannot afford to let it affect their decision-making, yet the summary discussion of the city’s demise gives a feeling that the author needs to simply drive the plot forward, explain the strategy quickly, and not belabour the point. This feeling will arise often throughout the book, but given the length of the conflict, it may be just as well to have events recited rather than seen, even if it goes against one of the cardinal rules of show, don’t tell.

The Sea Folk make what might as well be their final appearance, without even one of them named. The Sea Folk played an important role in earlier books, if irritating to many readers, being one of the first groups which the heroes had to accept rather than overcome or bring under their wings. This proved to be a key theme of the series, that of acceptance of others, despite vast gulfs between the cultures that separate them. The Seanchan would later drive that point home even more forcefully, remaining a final obstacle to the Dragon’s Peace when the meeting at Merrilor concludes.

Entire chapters of past books were dedicated to preparations for meetings such as this one, so things feel rushed when six pages after showing up on the field, the meeting begins. Illian and Tear are used as proxies for all the rest, yet the threat of Nations coming to blows feels minimal. Egwene correctly sees that no one will move until the true conflict between Amyrlin and Dragon is resolved.

Rand himself had suspicions of Demandred masquerading as Roedran, given his late decision to show up, and wonders where he is hiding, a blunt reminder that the secretive Forsaken may play a major role in the Last Battle.

Rand makes his three demands, setting off frantic discussions amongst the world’s leaders. Despite his attempts to eradicate war, flaws are shown which undermine his objectives and make his treaty untenable. The old friendship between Rand and Egwene ought to stave off a stalemate, yet even their trust of each other has been damaged. “I’ve known the White Tower’s guidance, Egwene. In a box, beaten each day.”

Consensus is as far away as it has ever been, Rand’s plan seems destined to fail, Egwene has resorted to hurling insults at him as when they were young, the Dragon’s peace offends the pride of every nation, and Rand can’t even get his closest allies to agree.

Into this, pulling Rand back from the edge of the precipice, comes Moiraine.

She has a knack, as she says, for showing up at the right place just in time. Years of traveling the world in search of Rand have allowed her to forge lasting bonds with Borderlander rulers. Her cousin is betrothed to Darlin, and she is aunt to the leader of the Children of the Light. She brought the current Amyrlin Egwene to Tar Valon, bonded the uncrowned king of Malkier, and was in line to a throne herself. Moiraine is as well connected as anyone in this story could be, and she alone can bring order where this group dissents.

Quoting the Prophecies of the Dragon, the Karaethon cycle, Moiraine directs gentle barbs at each of the attendees, reminding them what will happen, not what must happen. She presents the prophecies as a done deal, beyond negotiation or appeal, they are simply fact.

Once she has quelled the group, and they are willing to listen again, she steps to the sidelines as others begin serious discussion of flaws and possible solutions. Rand must get the Seanchan to sign, or it is all void. Possibility of disputes is solved when Aviendha insists on including the Aiel, who are assigned the role of protectors of the peace.

Rand’s other conditions are then addressed. He easily agrees to let someone else command the forces of the Light, so long as there is agreement. When Egwene’s name is put forth, talk returns to breaking the seals, and Moiraine easily sways Rand’s position, so long as she signs. With her major complaint addressed, Egwene concedes, leading a flurry of other nations to do the same.

Of all those who should follow the Amyrlin’s lead, longtime friend and lower-ranking Aes Sedai Elayne should be amongst the first, yet she holds out until the very end, petulant as ever. Though it annoys her many detractors, Elayne behaves as one trained by Merrilin and Morgase, exacting the greatest price for her aid, perhaps making subtle use of her rumoured love with Rand to position herself above all other rulers.

The emotional high note comes as a result of them all setting aside their differences to work together. Unified, Rand sets them a first task, one they eagerly accept. Lan’s army fights alone, in a war that cannot be won, an extension of his own personal war. They haven’t been seen since marching into Tarwin’s Gap at the end of the last book. Having attached themselves to Lan, they now face the same fate he always foresaw for himself. Within the hour, they will be overrun and killed, and Lan leads a final charge, hoping to deny the Trolloc hordes until his last breath. Unlike the fall of Malkier, when nations and Aes Sedai failed to come to Malkier’s aid for selfish or political reasons, this time those reasons have been set aside in favour of a more important need, to stand together. Lan’s charge gave the world another chance to do things right, and they do so in force. Even Lan can’t help himself: He didn’t just smile, he laughed… “Malkier lives on this day!”

I had previously identified that Nynaeve plays the role of Rand’s conscience, which begs the question of what Moiraine’s role is. Moiraine represents Rand’s sense of duty. It is a duty to protect his fellow townsfolk that leads him to set off into the world, following Moiraine. It is Moiraine who continually tried to push Rand towards what he must do, just as she does to the participants at this meeting, though much more gently.  Rand rejects Moiraine and his duty when he sets off into the Aiel Waste. Moiraine is being dutiful when she destroys Lanfear, doing what Rand cannot bring himself to do. And now at last, it is no coincidence that her reappearance immediately leads to fulfillment of the duty to Lan, her former warder, providing uplifting closure to the woeful tale of Malkier.

Writing Lessons:

For an event to be uplifting, it must have personal meaning to the characters and readers.

Towers of Midnight - Chapters 39-43

In this section, peculiar characters take center stage and banners are raised.

Aviendha’s appearance in Chapter 39 is awkward because it is only the third time her name has been mentioned in this book. Long time readers will of course know who Aviendha is, yet it is odd to leap into her quest without even a reminder that she had been sent on it. Only a few short chapters ago, the Wise Ones were speaking with Egwene, which offered an excellent set-up for her to learn her friend was making her second trip to Rhuidean.

Aviendha doesn’t tell anyone that she has traveled some distance from Rhuidean so that she can run the last stretch to get there. She meets an Aiel woman named Nakomi, who bizarrely appears as though from nowhere and vanishes just as mysteriously, after leaving Aviendha with some troubling thoughts to ponder. The manner of her abrupt departure despite Aviendha’s keen senses and tracking vaguely implies a greater purpose to her appearance, rather than a random encounter. Aviendha doesn’t dwell on her words much later, so the reader is left to wonder whether this was a dream, a time-disjointing hallucination brought on by burning brush, a visit from a more knowledgeable person such as another Wise One, a Forsaken, an Aes Sedai, or a future Aviendha, or worst of all, a divine intervention. I cross my fingers for random encounter, because Aviendha could have had these thoughts on her own with no need for mysterious old women.  

Perrin forges a hammer, and becomes powerfully linked to Norse myth. He also decides to be a leader of men, and raises his flag. He realizes the truth of one of his dreams, and decides to save the Children of the Light, for he thinks they are still in danger from the trap laid for him.

Berelain and Faile discuss Perrin’s identity, and later Alliandre reflects on it as well. Perrin is not calculating and does not do what is advantageous, he does what he feels is right. This is what led him to defend the Children of the Light instead of attacking them. Faile was right about him, and Berelain was wrong, and one last time, I can’t help but see that even when these women are honest with each other, they are not honest with each other. Faile’s and Berelain’s feud ends as agreed, with Faile using her own political acumen to give Berelain some help in reeling in her new man and free Perrin from her clutches for good. It wouldn’t have happened any differently if Perrin had slept with Berelain to gain her help in freeing Faile.

Why show Alliandre’s perspective at all, given that we’ve never been shown it up until now? One hint may be the silk shirt that she salvages from the pile of garments being rent for bandages. Cutting clothes up for bandages is a metaphor for tearing up something good like a marriage, but when Alliandre rescues the shirt that she intends to make a sash out of, it represents that even troubled relationships may sometimes be saved, and something worthwhile made out of them. Alliandre’s point of view is the only one from an outsider which comments on Faile and Perrin’s relationship, effectively reaffirming that they are the ones best able to decide whether to pursue or end it, and their opinions of each other outweigh any other truths.

Elyas leaves to join the wolves. For Perrin to lead wolves effectively, he’ll have to be in Tel’aran’rhiod, leaving Elyas to lead the wolves of the waking world, if they congregate rather than spread out.

Gawyn gets the Bloodknives’ rings, an ominous development that leaves readers wondering whether he’ll put them on, knowing the cost.

Lan raises his banner to lead his people, just as Perrin did. Lan’s reluctant rise to leadership was much shorter than Perrin’s, but conveyed quite effectively. Lan cannot change his character, part of which is his horse, which is what causes him to be recognized at last.  

Writing Lessons:

Remind readers of what characters are doing if they’ve been off-screen for too long.

The Gathering Storm - Chapters 21-23

In this section, one of the most intense scenes in the series unfolds.

This blog had its 10,000th visitor last week while I was facing writer’s block over this extra-lengthy post. Thanks for reading! Don't be shy, contact me if you have feedback, questions, or suggestions.

First, on a much less intense note, Perrin and Faile have a minor squabble as they try to reintegrate their lives together in the aftermath of her abduction and possible dalliances on the side for both of them. What intensity exists is quickly dissipated as Faile overlooks the odd, sorrowful gaze in his eyes, tells Perrin she does not believe the rumours about him and Berelain, and bluntly admits in her own thoughts that she did not sleep with Rolan. She explains that she is jealous, in one of those moments where the author lays bare the truth about how men and women act with each other.

I am bothered by the blunt treatment of this revelation. Throughout the series, I’ve shown how Robert Jordan consistently made almost every character, background, action, and description fit a theme and represent more than just the action on the surface. Masema was unbridled adherence to a code of behaviour, and Faile killed him in secret. Does that really mean nothing more than tying up a loose end? Galina, even as a Black Ajah, was truth, and she made a jumble of dirty timbers trap Faile. Did that mean nothing more than the betrayal it was? If Faile considered sleeping with Rolan for the possibility of escape, is it not possible that Perrin could do the same to tie Berelain to him and use her to free Faile? For those events to be devoid of deeper meaning  would signify that Robert Jordan had gone against the behaviour he exhibited over ten earlier novels, suddenly deciding that it was no longer appropriate to create layers of meaning so he could rush towards the end. That possibility rings far less true than Faile’s declaration that she did not sleep with Rolan. Sanderson’s writing style does not easily allow for unreliable narrators, given that he typically reveals emotions as facts, and not through the prism of that character’s world-view.

So, I’m left with the uncomfortable possibilities that either the text means exactly what it does on the surface, or that Sanderson deliberately or erroneously overlooked the cheating that took place off the page. I fully recognize that I am in the throes of one of those theory-making episodes spurred by having emotionally committed to a position in earlier posts, in fact, blogging in this format without complete knowledge of what is coming lends itself to this type of mania. Once you are committed to a point of view, even blunt evidence refuting it tends to be dismissed for the simple reason that it inconveniently contradicts what you know in your heart to be true. This sort of thing happened regularly at Theoryland, and really opened my eyes to how people think and why they think that way. But the disparity remains, and in my mind can only be resolved in favour of Jordan’s original intent. It is unfortunate that a blunt statement is given when it seems to me Jordan went out of his way to pointedly never show Perrin or Faile directly addressing what happened, choosing instead to focus on what other characters think happened. It strongly undermines the efforts put into several books covering their trials, unless you adhere to the point of view that Faile is lying even to herself.

Faile and her followers gather to remember the kindness of Rolan and the Brotherless. Her explanations and feelings fit perfectly with the stated facts. She keeps Rolan's turquoise stone, for remembrance, not regret. The Saldaean proverb is equally fitting for what the women remember as it would be had Faile actually slept with Rolan. The past was a field of embers and ash, the remnants of the fire that was the present. Faile's story arc is complete, she has proved what she will do to save Perrin, including keeping secret the facts about Rolan's death that would undermine Perrin's faith in himself. It's worth noting that Rolan's fate is similar to Rand's, dying to save the one he loves, willingly accepting his own destruction.

Just to reiterate one more time, I find the topic of unreliable narrators never revealing whether certain events ever took place fascinating, especially given the intense quote-based scrutiny fans apply to the text.

In any case, Faile’s character arc is complete, and there is nothing left to add except the obvious moment in the Last Battle when Perrin must choose between her and his duty to Rand. Jordan frequently used the technique of setting up several examples of growing significance before getting to the final version. Perrin made tough choices to save Faile in the Two Rivers, upon returning to Cairhien, and again when freeing her from the Shaido. The same scenario will crop up again in the Last Battle, and Min’s Viewing tells us something bad will happen to Rand if Perrin isn’t there. Perrin will not be there, and the bad thing will happen to Rand, because Perrin has consistently chosen Faile over all else. Don’t be sidetracked by Sanderson’s text stating that Perrin thinks only the Last Battle matters.

Semirhage’s collaring of Rand is the most intense version yet of Rand being held prisoner by fate. Ishamael ranted about this repeatedly in the early books, and Rand denied being trapped by the Wheel. Rand was captured by Aes Sedai and beaten, yet broke free. Rand was locked away in darkness in Far Madding, and was freed. And now, Rand is finally, utterly trapped. The Black collar and bracelets are the latest, and most potent, representation of the eternal theme of will vs. fate. As one in a series of such events, the build-up to this moment is part of the fabric of the series, beyond the particular words used in this book building up to this scene.

When Rand frees himself, he does so by using the True Power, the Dark One’s own abilities, accessed through a surprising link between himself and Moridin. The True Power allows reality to be reformed according to the user’s will, typically by replicating alternate versions of weaves the user already knows. Unconstrained by any force, Rand is able to do whatever he wants, unlimited by anything so far as he can tell. This is the power of freedom, and free will.

Cadsuane represents the Light, and Semirhage represents living completely outside the Light. When the confrontation is done, Rand has decided to live outside the Light, relying solely on his newfound power. Let's take a closer look at the symbolism and how it is subtly presented.

Semirhage sat alone in the small room. They had taken away her chair and given her no lantern or candle. She is literally cut off from the Light. What light she desires is man-made: glow-bulbs.

Semirhage considers resisting Cadsuane in the same manner Egwene resists her captors. Unlike Egwene who sees each punishment as an opportunity to show resistance, Semirhage has no victory to claim from each punishment. She can embrace pain easily, it is torture of the spirit she is unprepared for since her focus is entirely on the physical, not the spiritual. 

Shaidar Haran lists her failures, not least of which is the loss of the entire Seanchan Empire as pawns.   Rand was not to be killed, but is that by the Dark One's order, or out of concern for the link with Moridin? Even Moridin wasn't fully aware of their link until Rand lost his hand, so keeping him alive must have been part of the Dark One's plan.

Semirhage's cold detachment established her usual behaviour, so when she is anxious upon hearing Shaidar Haran's voice, and she holds her breath opening the door to her cell, tension is immediately created. Returning to her prior state of mind as she learns her captors are dead, she has an ally, and the black bracelets and collar are in her hands, the tension increases even as it shifts targets, for readers must recognize the immediate danger to Rand.

A time-honoured technique in horror is to tell the reader what awful event is about to take place, and then to delay showing it for as long as possible. As soon as Rand's name begins the next section, readers expect the confrontation, but the author delays it by showing Rand engaged in mundane affairs in Saldaea. It is more effective that Rand's affairs are ordinary, simply giving orders to his generals, rather than being riveting or action-oriented. The reader could understand if Rand is surprised because he is distracted by important affairs, but the feeling of being blind-sided is more palpable when he is going through, what are for him, everyday motions.

Rand reflects that the most dangerous enemies are those who you thought you could trust, while Lews Therin rails that none of the Asha'man can be trusted, they will turn on him. This sets up his frame of mind for embracing the True Power later and also for blaming Cadsuane. Rand thought he could trust the Pattern, and the Light to guide him, and has been sorely disappointed so far.

Rand reflects on invasions, both the physical ones in Saldaea and Arad Doman, as well as the metaphysical presence of Moridin in his dreams. Semirhage waits to conduct a personal invasion into Rand's quarters, and the reader can't help feeling that Rand will now be blind-sided as he ponders the very thing he is about to face.

Rand focuses on the one person he does trust, wondering if he can trust her far enough to do as she says and not become hard. The reader can’t tell if this scene takes place before, during or after Semirhage’s escape, so far all they know Min has already become a pawn of Semirhage’s. The uncertainty created by keeping that detail from the reader heightens the tension further.

There is no coincidence in the timing or nature of the argument between Rand and Min. Rand worries that Cadsuane is trying to manipulate him through her, and mistrusts her motives. On the verge of turning on Min because of her possible association with Cadsuane, Rand is in fact contemplating turning his back on the Light itself. And then Semirhage collars him. Language relating to constraint and feeling trapped is used frequently in horror scenes, telling readers that the outcome is terrible, yet dragging them inexorably towards that outcome. This scene plays out bit by bit with visceral and literal horrific constraints placed on Rand and Min.

The collar itself forces obedience to the will of the woman wearing the bracelet, in this case Semirhage. Rand is forced to act according to her logic, a logic that places no value in the emotion of love. He is forced to destroy Min, for she serves no purpose in a world with no love. Even though Rand is able to free himself of Semirhage’s constraints, he has still embraced her way of thinking, shutting down his emotions, closing himself off from love and the Light.

When Rand uses the True Power, Lews Therin’s rantings about it replace tension with dread. How can it be worse to use the True Power than to murder his own loved ones?

Rand banishes Cadsuane, saying he never wants to see her face again, completing his metaphorical rejection of the Light. Following a logic focused on the outcome, not the means, Rand teaches balefire, insisting on its use.

Writing Lessons:

Guide the reader’s emotions as you building towards a climax by using the right language, establishing similar scenes to frame context, and pushing your characters beyond their limits.

The Gathering Storm - Chapters 6-9

In this section, several more characters get their first point of view, expanding the cast.

Sanderson’s style involves much more frequent changes in the point of view character. It changes at least every chapter, sometimes several times within a chapter. Shorter, more frequent points of view can make the pace quicker, and keep the reader’s attention only for the time necessary to drive the main points home; they are unlikely to be as analytical when there’s little time to digest what has taken place before jumping to the next locale. Jordan’s longer concentration on one locale for several chapters kept the reader more deeply immersed in the world, allowing time to flesh out more details. Jordan’s pacing was most effective when he’d spend only a few chapters in one locale, but returned to that locale several times in the story, allowing the story to progress. In later books, the pacing often felt off because he might only return to the locale once, leaving plotlines unresolved. This is unlikely with Sanderson’s pacing, which trades depth and detail for action and progress. 

In one example, we get Leane’s 4-page point of view, followed by 3 pages featuring Egwene. Why switch at all? Is anything accomplished by showing Leane when we’ve been following Egwene so closely? The main detail too unseemly for her to tell Egwene is the conditions of her captivity. It also makes sense that Leane would know the names of the two Yellows shielding her, but Egwene would not, yet that detail is of no import. Even the comfort Egwene provides to her is stated rather than explained through internal dialogue. The only other reason I can see is to establish that Leane is a point of view character so that readers don’t find it jarring if the action shifts to her at some later point in the story, but I don’t recall any major role she plays in this book. In short, adding a few pages from Leane’s point of view when Egwene’s would have done as well, was unnecessary.

In fact, Egwene’s point of view is pivotal, since immediately after leaving two sections of the Tower are transposed, an event that greatly affects a later battle. Egwene sees that the floor should have been “nondescript gray tiles”, but unless something really is nondescript, that adjective should not be used. There have been several examples of rooms changing, and being relocated, and the scale seems to be increasing. Will we later see entire pieces of countryside being randomly shuffled about the world? What good would any strategy be when the geography is ever-changing?

Ituralde scores a great victory, but realizes that ever more powerful forces will come for him; Seanchan pride demands no less. Several characters’ pride interferes with their decision-making.

Nynaeve senses a storm coming, but I wonder if she senses Rand’s mood? In earlier books, she acts as his conscience, so it seems plausible this great and terrible storm she senses is related to Rand’s future behaviour. I’d have to go back and see where else she has used this ability, and compare with what Rand was up to.

Perrin is lying in the mud fixing wagons, wondering how to fix his marriage. The metaphor of him lying in the mud as he contemplates this compares well to Faile’s own muddy metaphors, both of them relating to infidelities. Some of the language fits well with the earlier metaphors which implied neither of them was being truthful, even to themselves. In other ways, the language is much franker, seeming to embrace the truth presented on the surface. Perrin puts off his problems with Faile though, to concentrate on the other thing bothering him, which requires seeking out Rand and leading his men. It’s an unsatisfying deviation from the more important problem of Faile.

Siuan walks through the makeshift village the rebels have set up, and some of the descriptive text stands out as distinctly different from similar concepts described in earlier books. Let’s look at what the two different styles convey:

In earlier books, Jordan used examples to illustrate some of the points.

Once she gained the Tower, that second kitchen would be opened again, and the Novices still would need to eat by shifts, something unknown since well before the Trolloc Wars.

Delana would discuss anything, from how they were to find proper clothes for nine hundred and eighty-seven novices to whether Elaida had secret supporters among the sisters, another topic that gave most sisters a case of the prickles.

In Sanderson’s text, the same basic information is given, as a reminder, in the same way that Jordan often did when reintroducing a concept established in an earlier book. But here, the examples are more generic, not attributed to any particular person, not compared to any particular situation. Sanderson’s method is briefer, and conveys the apparent truth of the situation concisely. Jordan’s text was rich with detail and context, but much lengthier, surely requiring more research and consistency checks.

One of the only oddities about the village – if one ignored the fact that there were tents instead of rooms and wooden walkways instead of tiled hallways- was the number of novices. There were hundreds and hundreds. In fact, the number had to be over a thousand now, many more than the Tower had held in recent memory. Once the Aes Sedai were united, novices’ quarters that hadn’t been used in decades would have to be reopened. They might even need the second kitchen.

These novices bustled around in families, and most of the Aes Sedai tried to ignore them. Some did this out of habit; who paid attention to Novices? But others did so out of displeasure. By their estimation, women aged enough to be mothers and grandmothers – indeed, many who were mothers and grandmothers- shouldn’t have been entered into the novice book. But what could be done? Egwene al’Vere, the Amyrlin Seat, had declared that it should happen.

It seems odd that a detail-oriented person such as Siuan would not know more precisely the number of novices, or that the details Egwene reveals about eating in shifts at the kitchens wouldn’t have come from Siuan in the first place. Maybe Egwene learned it during her short stint as a novice?

Writing Lessons:

Each writing style has some trade-offs: detail vs. conciseness, specificity vs. time invested to write. Be aware of the benefits and downsides to the writing style you choose.

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.

Knife of Dreams - Chapters 28-30

In this section, Perrin and Faile have a happy reunion, except for some overhanging doubts.

I was taken aback by the possibility that the chapters detailing Faile’s theft of the Oath Rod contained a second layer of meaning, one which pointed to her sleeping with Rolan, and being so secretive about it that she doesn’t even mention it in her own thoughts. I went back and read the chapters in Winter’s Heart where Perrin wakes in Berelain’s tent and found the same thing. Neither situation means that any cheating took place, but the author definitely used language and symbolism to infer the possibility of it having happened.

In the chapters detailing Faile’s rescue, I found other symbolism which continues to support the author’s intent for readers to question whether they are being told the whole story. Galina represents truth, and both truth and Galina let Faile down. This is symbolized by Galina plunging Faile and her followers into the basement of a burned out building. The ruined timbers that collapse on them represent the web of lies that must be concocted to hide their actions with the Aiel men.

The jumble of charred timbers and half-burned boards filling the staircase resembled one of those blacksmith’s puzzles her Perrin enjoyed. Almost everything seemed to be propping up something else. Worse, the heavier timbers might be beyond all of them working together. But if they could clear enough for them to be able to crawl through, writhing between the thick beams… It would be dangerous, that crawl. But when a dangerous path was your only route to safety, you had to take it.

Much of the effort to move the timbers fails, and further shifting causes more of them to tumble into the dirty basement. The soot and ash dirtying their faces represents their shame. It means that despite their best efforts, they cannot come up with a story that can’t be unraveled. It is only when they are able to signal Faile’s other followers that they are able to escape. Rolan, the Brotherless, and the gai’shain help Faile escape the basement, representing their pledge to preserve Faile’s secret. What she did, she did for them, and they will protect her. Rolan will keep her secret as well, but not without exacting his price. A pinch on the bottom for each of the women represents something more, a price willingly paid for freedom.

At Theoryland we put great stock in quoting the text, but here is a situation where the quoted text is of no value in understanding what may have happened. Readers can accept the story told as it appears, for after all, Perrin and Faile are in love, and would never betray each other. Or, they can note the hidden symbolism and wonder, how well do I really know these characters? The author’s goal isn’t to state the truth one way or the other, it is to cast doubt. Readers won’t know for sure, they must have faith and belief in their interpretation of events, just as Perrin and Faile will have to.

The question of how well you know someone recurs frequently in this book. Mat and Tuon state it bluntly, as they circle each other warily in their courtship. Elayne’s spies and traitors aren’t presented in the shock and awe style of writing where the betrayal carries important consequences. It’s more of a gentle questioning of how far Mellar, or Sareitha, or anyone can be trusted. The motives of High Seats are vague, and are interpreted in the obvious way, with a small chance of deceit, just as the Seanchan Banner-General is someone Perrin has to decide to take at face value, and to trust. Rand’s encounter with the fake Daughter of the Nine Moons was a more direct betrayal, but his gamble to put trust in this unknown person fits the theme which runs through the relationships in this book. Perrin and Faile’s relationship is the inverse of Mat and Tuon’s. Where readers are comfortable with Perrin and Faile’s fabled honesty, and wary with Mat and Tuon’s usual unreliability, the author inverts the roles, creating doubt about the trustworthy and giving confidence in the scoundrels.

Aram is another case of someone who we thought we knew well, yet he suddenly turns on Perrin. His motivation is to protect Faile from Perrin, as explained to him by Masema, who knows no shades of grey, only the stark black and white of the moral code he and his cult have constructed around the Dragon. Aram would have killed Perrin for not being perfect, but both Perrin and Faile easily conclude that the other may have behaved imperfectly, which doesn’t matter, so long as they are together.

Min’s Viewings about the falcon and hawk, and the tinker with a sword all involve this particular part of the storyline. Why were these images important enough to merit a Viewing? Why present them to readers unless they meant something to Perrin? The falcon and its leash are obvious, but what do the other two mean if not the scenario I have described?

This is the last we see of Therava and Galina. Therava’s ability to crush the spirit of one of the most powerful women in the world stood out far more than Anath’s mild spankings of Tuon. I was sorely disappointed Semirhage’s alter ego was not as impressive as the Shaido Wise One, though that will be rectified in the next book. Therava overcame Sevanna’s ineptitude, and Galina received a just punishment for her actions. A feeling of justice is important to convey to the reader, if it is desired to keep a hopeful tone to the story. In this case it is convenient to contrast Galina’s fate and actions with Faile’s. They both may have betrayed the faith placed in them, but the consequences for each match the severity of their betrayal.

Writing Lessons:

Contrast one relationship with another to drive a point home.

Knife of Dreams - Chapters 8-10

In this section, Mat unites his followers.

In other posts I’ve pointed out how the books are most entertaining when they follow a character for a few chapters, then jump to another locale for a few more chapters, and so on, so that each locale is seen three or more times, and enough time is spent in each locale to advance the story. This section takes us to the fifth consecutive chapter from Mat’s point of view, with one more to come after. That’s a significant chunk of the book, and a sign that either some characters will be cut out, or have abridged sections. Nonetheless, Mat’s uniquely funny voice and a sense of advancement in the relationships among his followers make these chapters entertaining and flow smoothly.

A number of other ongoing plots are advanced: Mat and Aludra make a deal regarding her cannons, Bayle and Egeanin get married, the sul’dam begin to learn how to channel from the Aes Sedai, more of the Prophecies concerning the Last Battle are revealed, and continual references to the Snakes and Foxes keep cropping up.

Tuon educates Mat about the finer points of reading omens. Most omens are related to animals’ behaviour. The Pattern could have a wonderful control mechanism for the Seanchan Empire with the fervent belief in these superstitions. The Empress and High Blood take them very seriously and appear to alter plans based on seemingly random events. I wonder if Robert Jordan was detail-oriented enough to have known some of these omens when he wrote the earlier books and insert them before readers had any context to interpret them. Even he wouldn’t have. Right? Funnily, things that Mat knows to be true, she derides as superstition.

Mat finally gets Tuon to take a horseback ride with him, and while visiting some ruins he makes a startling realization: the Aelfinn and Eelfinn have established a lasting connection to him and may know exactly what he is doing.

Egeanin tells Mat more about Tuon and what she knows of life in the Imperial Family. Mat has slowly been falling for Tuon, despite starting out as him simply trying to learn more about his fated wife. Setalle Anan is also helping him as much as she can, and trying to correct his roguish ways.

All in all, Mat leaps from misadventure to another, slowly getting to know Tuon, slowly gaining the confidence of followers, and slowly letting other followers get out of hand. Amongst these, Joline loses her temper against Tuon, and then finds an a’dam clapped around her neck. Tuon provides a taste of her effective training methods. Then Mat steps into the fray, unlocking the a’dam despite Tuon controlling the Aes Sedai to weave flows of air around Mat. The Aes Sedai and Tuon had already seen the foxhead medallion in action, so this is the second time Mat is able to do what no man should be able to do, earning the respect of everyone involved. It has taken a while, but Mat’s ragtag band is forging links of trust, dependence, and mutual respect.

A bubble of evil or breakdown in the Pattern has an ancient village materialize, then vanish, taking a peddler with it. Once again, this stands out as a little contrived, seeming to serve no direct purpose other than to provide another example of the signs heralding the Last Battle. It does serve an incidental purpose as a motivating factor for Egeanin and Juilin to make peace between them, and vacate the tent, leaving Thom, Noal, Olver and Mat alone.

Thom has been reading a letter over and over, subtly making Mat curious about the letter, hoping he will ask about it, as Moiraine insisted he must before he can show it to him. Mat, oblivious as always, has taken months to finally ask Thom about it, and at last we get confirmation that Moiraine is not dead. Mat agrees to undertake a perilous journey back to the realm of the Aelfinn and Eelfinn to rescue her, with Thom and Noal in tow. This gives some satisfaction that a long-awaited plot will be resolved, but its resolution is yet several books away.

Writing Lessons:

Create suspense and tension by telling what must happen, then dragging out its resolution.

Knife of Dreams - Chapters 5-7

In this section, Faile and Mat advance their romantic relationships.

Faile is steadily recruiting help, faster than she would like. Rumour travels quickly among the gai’shain, and some of her new followers may not be very reliable. Faile marches inexorably closer to her death at Galina’s hands when some of her followers are able to steal the Oath Rod. Readers have been told Galina’s plan is to get the Oath Rod, then kill Faile. She is unknowingly charging towards her own murder. This has the effect of creating anxiety over Perrin’s recent treaty; instead of beginning the attack now before Faile gets killed, Perrin is heading the other way to gather Forkroot. What looked like progress now costs precious time that Faile may not have. Reversing expectations like this is a wonderful way to keep the reader invested in the story.

Rolan makes his romantic intentions towards Faile known. His is the third possible means of escape she has before her, the other two relying on Perrin and Galina. Accepting Rolan’s help may end up with her sleeping with him. She further realizes that all of Rolan’s spear brothers would know if she did sleep with him. Despite his claim that what happens when you wear gai’shain white is forgotten when you put it off, she still recognizes that secrets are hard to keep: “If Rolan could be believed they all knew! Hope and danger, all tied together inextricably. What a tangle.”

The very next paragraph is a metaphor for her decision regarding Rolan. This is not only a description of the search for the Oath Rod, but also a description of Faile feeling exposed and dirty, hoping to keep her secrets as best she can when so many know. Covering herself as best as she could with her hands, Faile huddled together with other women wearing Sevanna’s belt and collar – they had been made to put those on again straightaway - huddled for a scrap of decency while Shaido rummaged through the gai’shain tents, tossing everything out into the mud. All Faile could do was think about her hiding place inside the town and pray. Hope and danger, and no way to untangle them. As Rolan advised, Faile will not speak of it again, even to herself, and neither will the other women in her situation, each of them complicit in keeping each other’s secrets.

A disadvantage of participating in Theoryland is that we tend to only give credit to information that is given in the text of the story, so in the past I did not believe Faile had slept with Rolan. In this case, Faile has become an unreliable narrator, refusing to even broach the topic of her affair with Rolan within her internal point of view, and certainly never alluding to it in the text. If what happens while she is wearing white can be forgotten, she has already done so to the extent that she can, and the reader will be none the wiser unless they read between the lines. It’s a wonderful piece of writing that says so much while appearing to say so little.

Mat is having much less luck with Tuon. He buys her a gift of a zebra-like horse, a rare and valued breed. Before he can give it to her, he gives Tuon a nickname: Precious. Mat asks Noal about Jain Farstrider, since he is oddly knowledgeable about his ‘cousin’. Even after keeping his identity secret for this long, it still feels contrived that Jain Farstrider is in the story. It would have been obviously worse had readers been told who he was right away. Tuon cuts through Noal’s melancholy, and just like that, another of Mat’s followers is as much under her control as his. The back and forth tug of war between Mat and Tuon for anything and everything is entertaining, and despite Mat seeming to achieve his goals as the relationship develops, he loses as much or more to Tuon’s influence.

Some Seanchan show up outside the circus tents, and after a brief scuffle, the circus folk pack up and move on before the soldiers come back to cause more trouble. Mat is alarmed that the Aes Sedai are channeling with soldiers right outside, and a confrontation with Joline results in Mat learning part of Setalle Anan’s secret: she was stilled. Learning that she has secrets at all feels only a little contrived, because readers still don’t know whether she was an important Aes Sedai or a run of the mill one. Once again, the brilliant ta’veren mechanism can be used to explain away any number of incredible coincidences such as the high profile list of Mat’s followers.

Writing Lessons:

Create tension by having progress in one plotline result in greater danger in another plotline.

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.

Crossroads of Twilight - Chapters 29-30

In this section, Mat and Egwene are the last characters to commit to their chosen path at a symbolic crossroads.

Mat promised never to kill a woman again. In the first chapter, and again in the last chapter, Mat reflected on having killed a woman. “He had killed one woman in his life, and left another to be butchered. He was not going to add a third to his soul.” Melindhra attacked him and was killed before he even realized he had thrown the dagger. Tylin was murdered by the gholam. Now Renna has fled the circus, and is riding hell-bent for the Seanchan army in the last town they passed. Mat means to stop her and bring her back, if he can.

This standing promise not to kill women is tested after Mat makes good on another promise to let Tuon do some shopping in the town of Jurador. Mat’s progress wooing Tuon is based on keeping promises. She believed his promise to release her unharmed enough to promise not to escape. She rode up front of the wagons in front of Seanchan soldiers that she could have called out to, but didn’t, upholding her promise.  He trusts her enough to take her into town, and when she evades him while he is distracted, he manages to find her and not be angry at her, beyond the price he pays for the silk she bought. The premise that Mat keeps his promises is well proven by these examples.

Faced with a split-second decision, Mat orders his men to shoot Renna in the back. Even with the sun blazing in their eyes, there was no question of either of them missing. Something flickered and died in Mat as he gave the order. He swears, “never again, if I have to die for it, never again.” That is a strong promise, but this was never a question of Mat’s life being on the line, but those of the circus folk, and his followers, and Tuon.

Upon his return to the circus Mat finds Tuon has written a warrant placing the circus under Tuon’s personal protection. Tuon had anticipated that Mat might fail, and seeing how Mat did his utmost to preserve their safety, Tuon took actions to ensure they would not pay for their role in Tuon’s abduction and captivity. She shared Mat’s goal, and absolves him of guilt for his actions, proclaiming them just. As a symbol of her growing respect for Mat, she is wearing the gift he gave her pinned to her shoulder. Mat is never what he seems, which is what a Seanchan noble should be.

Egwene’s decision is whether to send a novice from her home village to perform a dangerous task. Bode’s participation is necessary now that a second Aes Sedai has been murdered using saidin. The camp grows more and more afraid about the unknown assailant in their midst but the planned talks with the Black Tower still haven’t been derailed.

Egwene and Siuan run through a number of comparisons with former Amyrlins. Their names or roles aren’t as important as the fact that they are remembered for something. Egwene isn’t yet concerned about what history will say about her, but she already has rumours about her severity being told. Sheriam offers her a chance to spare her best childhood friend from a severe punishment, and she easily chooses not to save Larine from her own mistakes. She further convinces herself that even novices serve the White Tower, rationalizing Bode’s upcoming role in the siege. Then, she realizes that what applies to novices, applies to Amyrlins as well. She decides to take Bode’s place.

The direct explanation for Egwene’s decision is not well explained. The reasoning starts with “Bode must do what needed doing… Aes Sedai, and those who would become Aes Sedai, served the Tower.” And becomes “The White Tower was good at teaching both things, but the first always came first. Bode’s future would be brilliant. Her potential almost equaled Egwene’s. But Aes Sedai, Accepted or novice, the Tower required you to do what was needed for the Tower. Aes Sedai, Accepted, novice or Amyrlin.” It’s logical for Egwene to do the task given her talent for making cuendillar, and the proclamation of war provides the loophole that allows Egwene to put herself in danger, but the magnitude of the decision is lacking. It seems a rather small decision compared to some of the others she has made, but it is as fateful as the other turning points each of the main characters has come to.

Egwene’s explanation to Bode is also weak, lacking a firm foundation for the reader to grasp the idea: ““Some things I shouldn’t ask a novice to do when I can do them better.” Perhaps that was not a great deal milder, but she could not explain about Larine and Nicola, or the price the White Tower demanded of all its daughters. The Amyrlin could not explain the one to a novice, and a novice was not ready to learn about the other.” If not to Bode, it could have been explained to the reader, at least. All that is understood is that Egwene decided to do it herself because she is better at it, and the rationale she provides is gobbledygook which probably requires flipping back a few pages to see what she had said about Larine and Nicola, and getting a similarly unclear paragraph as explanation.

The book ends with a cliffhanger: Egwene has been captured by the Tower Aes Sedai. It is most surprising because every other plotline ended like a television show, with everyone finishing in almost exactly the same situation they were in at the beginning of the story. Only Egwene achieved a change in the status quo. It’s a big difference from all of the preceding books.

Writing Lessons:

When your characters do something odd, or decisive, a clear rationale helps the reader accept it.

Crossroads of Twilight - Chapters 18-19

In this section Egwene is plunged into the deepest depths of Aes Sedai intrigue…

The final part of this Egwene section is a study in Aes Sedai politics that makes your head spin. There have been several mentions of the too-young Sitters, and Siuan has discovered that Elaida has the same problem. In Tar Valon there are at least three, maybe four Sitters who are too young by custom. Egwene has another eight. It would have stood out as strange in either place, but together they point to somebody who has a hand in all Ajahs and is directing their decision-making. Once the Black Ajah has been ruled out, Siuan and Egwene can’t even conceive that the Ajah Heads not only know each other but may be communicating secretly with each other.

This is the behaviour Talene was investigating, which led to her capture by the Black Ajah hunters. Some of the Sitters had been meeting secretly, but Talene and the Black Ajah and Mesaana herself did not know their purpose. Interestingly, the Ajah heads meeting and the too-young Sitter mysteries solve each other, so we know who is behind it, and some of what they have done, but their motive is still lacking. Some readers may have the intuition to look at the unknowns and wonder how they may fit together to get this far, but I think most often they remain categorized as two separate mysteries.

Egwene’s meeting with the Hall goes on for pages, with every mannerism and action potentially laden with meaning. The author convincingly shows how much noise there is covering the true signal. One tool to help simplify our understanding of this mess is a grid showing common stances on certain issues.

Rebel Aes Sedai Young Sitters Chart

Now we can more easily see the pattern that Siuan was getting at. When those five Sitters started pressing for negotiations, Egwene should have wondered whether it meant that Romanda and Lelaine were supportive of it, given the affiliations those five shared. It is much easier to see that long-time Sitters outside the Blue Ajah viscerally oppose talks with the Black Tower and favour all reunification measures, including refusal to declare war on Elaida.  

The question is why didn’t the author make this plainer to the reader? He could easily have had Egwene notice this pattern and comment on it, or summarized the votes as “the newly raised Sitters were amenable to change, the ones raised before the split would die before agreeing to this proposal.” Instead, he spread one vote over six entire pages, challenging readers to cobble together clues from this section as well as from several other books to even have a clear idea of who is in the Hall and what the factions may be. He wanted readers to work for the answer and to have a life-like representation of the political complexities the Amyrlin faces with every proposal. I wonder how much of the time it took to write Crossroads of Twilight is as a result of this decision to present this vote in such a detailed way. So many characters, so many details.

Egwene’s migraine headaches are an original disability. They don’t affect her ability to channel, but they do give an opportunity for Halima to get close to her. It’s debatable whether Halima could in some way be causing the headaches, but there is a grave risk of discovery if someone discovers a saidin resonance centered on Egwene’s tent. The metaphor works better if headaches are a natural outgrowth of Egwene’s difficulties with the Sitters and Halima’s touch offers to make the problems go away, which Egwene won’t accept, preferring to slog it out in the Hall.

To reinforce Egwene’s stance about Halima staying in her tent, one chapter opens with Egwene considering the rumours about her in the camp. The novices compare her to the stern Sereille Bagand, and Egwene recognizes that there is often little truth to rumours about her. This is soon contrasted to rumours about Halima breaking a man’s arm and being too free with her favours. If Egwene rejects gossip for personal reasons, because she knows it to be false, she now has a personal stake in not accepting gossip about Halima. That decision made, she becomes steadfast in the woman’s defense. She also has a personal need for Halima’s presence, since she is the only woman with whom she can stop being the Amyrlin for a few minutes. Ironically, this relationship helps Egwene remain grounded and not become a typical Aes Sedai.

The seed planted back in New Spring takes root, as Siuan reveals her suspicion that Cadsuane is Black Ajah. Just when we had started to trust her a bit.

Egwene proves she will do anything to reunite the Tower, holding her nose at having to use Rand’s apparent Compulsion of Aes Sedai to prove that he must not have submitted to Elaida. A foul-tasting tea acts as the metaphor throughout the discussion.

Writing Lessons:

Clues and solutions to mysteries can be hidden in noise, but the amount of noise can also be a deterrent to readers.