Goha takes care of a girl, whom she names Therru, whose face and head are charred to the bone. Goha is Tenar from book two and this one explores her life post-adventure. Very few stories do this. Yes, it’s less exciting than an adventure, but it’s still interesting to see how adventure and excitement changes people.
*****SPOILERS*****
There were so many positives.
This book transitions
between calling her Goha and Tenar. The change wasn’t sudden or dramatic,
instead being done in a controlled manner. The point at which it became more
noticeable was when Goha had gone back to Ogion. A mage, whose job relies on
true names, calling Goha by her true name Tenar was a good, clear place to have
the demarcation.
Ogion tells Tenar to
wait, but not what for. Tenar agrees because she has nothing else to do and she
thinks, ‘What else have I ever done?’ Clearly she feels like an observer in her
own life. Tenar asks if she should sleep with Sparrowhawk and he says she’ll
have to be patient. She says she’s been patient for twenty-five years. So maybe
the all she’s ‘ever done’ was wait for Sparrowhawk to come back to her?
For his burial, Ogion
is put on his side with his knees bent in the foetal position, something very
typical in the burials in ancient history. As the author set Earthsea
pre-medieval period, this was a very good detail.
The witch Moss said
that the power of women was older than the Making that goes ‘back into the
dark’. As in, the Nameless Ones? This could explain why the wizards have such a
negative view of witchcraft, because they have a negative view of the Nameless
Ones.
The Earthsea Quartet isn’t a comedy series.
So when something funny does crop up, it’s instantly noticeable.
When someone says
they should ‘keep the foreign riffraff out’, the prose follows on with, ‘Tenar
nodded her foreign head pleasantly.’ This had me chuckling really hard.
When Tenar says
Sparrowhawk hasn’t eaten all day, he responds by saying, ‘There was a man
there.’ That made me laugh because people being present has made me avoid food
before, too.
There were several concepts that made one
pause for thought.
Tenar chose to become
a housewife and a mother, the only position of authority women had. But Tenar
notes that this authority was given/bestowed/allowed by men. So is that
authority real or is it another form of control?
It says that Tenar
didn’t understand Sparrowhawk’s ‘shame... A woman got used to shame.’ Women are
shamed for what men are praised for. Yes, men are shamed, but only for what’s
considered feminine, which inadvertently shames women because they do the
feminine stuff. Meaning women are shamed for everything.
The Gontish people
forgave her ‘foreignness’. At first, one might find it bizarre to forgive
people for what they are rather than what they’ve done. But even today, people
get mad over what people are (foreign, gay, black, woman). So despite being something
I wanted to dismiss as stupid and illogical, it made me reflect on how stuid
and illogical society can be.
Complaints weren’t
‘just the complaint each generation makes that things aren’t what they used to
be and the world’s going to the dogs.’ Literally everyone ever complains about
the younger generations. It’s nice to see the author, or in fact anyone,
acknowledge this.
So yes, there were problems.
We don’t get the name
of the burnt girl (Therru) for quite some time, even though she was physically
present in the story. If there is a reason to keep important information
hidden, that’s fine. But I couldn’t find the value in withholding the name in
this instance.
It says that Ogion
never touched her and yet in the same paragraph says when ‘she leaned against
him, he’d stroke her hair.’ So Ogion clearly has touched her in the past.
One sentence is
started with a lower-case letter: ‘always of yourself?’
There was a confusing
three pages. The gist was that wizards bind themselves to be celibate in exchange
for their magical power. But it lacked clarity. Ambiguity can be useful in
storytelling but that’s different from poor writing. I wish these pages had
been rewritten into something better.
It states that Tenar
was the pupil of the mage, despite her saying she rejected that life. This
contradiction was unnecessary.
Goha wraps Therru up,
saying the blankets were like a cocoon that would hatch in the morning. ‘The
ruined little butterfly.’ That’s rather harsh. One might say harshness is
within Goha’s character, considering she wonders if she should have let Therru
die. Goha was also harsh when she was the Priestess of the Nameless Ones. But
the very reason for letting Therru die was that it would have been kinder than
life. That’s not harshness but kindness. Considering the rest of Goha’s
behaviour, it’s clear that harshness isn’t within Goha’s character.
Much of this book focuses on the relationship
between dragons and humans. It’s a background theme that gets steadily more
important to the plot. This development was managed well.
Goha tells Therru a
story where a women could change into a dragon. She sings that dragons were
once a single, winged race. Despite this split, some retained a human mind and
a dragon heart.
There’s a fan that,
with the aid of sunlight, depicts humans with dragon wings and dragons with
human eyes. Remember,
in book two it’s noted that dragons talk about the human Erreth-Akbe as if he
were a dragon.
Therru’s scars are
hot, like a ‘horny-skinned wild creature… escaping’. Hot, wild and hard-skinned
like a dragon, maybe? A witch says Therru’s power is beyond the teaching of
‘any witch or wizard.’ There’s only one magical thing this fits with: dragons. When
Therru chooses to stay with Tenar and Sparrowhawk, the dragon Kalessin says, “I
give you my child.”
Therru knows Aspen’s
true name. Knowing something’s true name is something a wizard trains to do yet
Therru, a seven year-old without training, knows it. True names are in the Old
Speech and, as noted in previous books, dragons are the Old Speech, so they’d
know something’s true name.
So the ideas of
humans and dragons once being one is very prevalent. Then there are loads of
clues that Therru is an individual who is both.
A gentle story told well, this book was
well-though out. After the disaster of book three, it was great that the
follow-up book was brimming with positivity.
It shows how life can
proceed in a normal fashion after epic adventures, even all the mundane aspects.
It directly talks about the fundamental differences between male and female
magic so that the readers know it’s a substantively different, rather than just
discriminatory. The dragon-human link is fascinating.
I’m so glad I picked
this quartet up off the shelf!