Skip to main content

First King of Shannara (Cont.): The Platypus Reads Part CCXXVI

This post will cover Chapter XVIII of Terry Brooks' First King of Shannara.  Those who have not read this book (or others in the original and Heritage series) and wish to remain spoiler free should not read on.


*Plot sensitive material follows*



Chapter XVIII details Bremen, Kinson, and Mareth's journey to Darklin Reach and their meeting with the former druid Cogline.  Bremen hopes to learn from Cogline the scientific process for making a metal that can withstand the intense forces that will be involved in forging the Sword of Shannara.  Cogline, after some intial reluctance, tells Bremen the procedure for making steal.

I was first struck by the lack of "wandering monster encounters" in the journey from Storlock to Darklin Reach.  Indeed, there has been a general lack of "wandering monsters" in the book as a whole.  This is a real improvement from the seven previous books that seem to revel in presenting the reader with a random "freak of the week" every time there's a travel narrative.  We all know how much Brooks likes his monsters, so this shows real restraint on his part in the service of telling a more believable story.

Places like Darklin Reach always remind me how very North American Terry Brooks is, and that his world is meant to be a post-apocalyptic North America, not a fantastic medieval Europe.  Tolkien casts such a long shadow over all of Brook's work that these "American" elements always feel jarring.  The meeting with Cogline is a thinly disguised camping trip complete with citronella candles.

Speaking of long shadows, it interests me that so many of the Shannara Books revolve around "involvement" versus "non-involvement."  Bremen is good because he gets involved.  Cogline is good, because once he's huffed a bit he gets involved.  Being a hero = getting involved.  Those who refuse involvement, like the Druids of Paranor, are not only selfish, they are also foolish since "non-involvement" always leads to destruction.  This seems to be something picked up from misreading Tolkien in light of the second world war.  Tom Shippey points out that Peter Jackson makes the same mistake in his film adaptation of The Lord of the Rings.  It's a sort of U.N. notion that we must all put aside our differences and unite to fight evil.  Tolkien agreed (with all sorts of caveats and reservations) with uniting to fight evil, but he strongly opposed anything beyond a simple defensive coalition.  The idea of a centralized order like the Druids of Terry Brooks' world would have struck him as a precursor to Barad-Dur.

Finally, Terry Brooks seems to envision Science as some sort of "force" locked in a ying-yang relationship with Magic.  Magic and Science are both alike in that they represent attempts to know and harness the material world through practicing a technique.  Indeed, they walked hand in hand together far longer than most realize.  Even just a century ago, Science was charging full speed ahead as was Occultism.  Brooks gives frequent nods to this in the book, but ideas like "science sleeps while magic is in the ascent" treat Science like it's a force, or power, or thing in and of itself rather than the name we give to a particular set of techniques oriented toward achieving a specific kind of knowledge with the goal of manipulating our world to suit our tastes.

So there you have it.  We'll see how these ideas play out in future chapters but, for now, I'm going to find some lunch.   

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Platypus Reads Part XXVII

Thoughts after reading the "Iliad" to prepare a Greece unit for my students: -Hector is a jerk until he's dead. He even advocates the exposure of Achaean corpses and then has the cheek to turn around and ask Achilles to spare his. He rudely ignores Polydamas' prophecies and fights outside the gate to save his pride knowing full well what it will cost his family and city. After he's dead, he becomes a martyr for the cause. -Agamemnon has several moments of true leadership to balance out his pettiness. In this way, he's a haunting foil to Achilles: the two men are more alike than they want to acknowledge. -We see that Achilles is the better man at the funeral games of Patroclos. His lordliness, tact, and generosity there give us a window into Achilles before his fight with Agamemnon and the death of Patroclos consumed him. -Nestor is a boring, rambling, old man who's better days are far behind him, and yet every Achaean treats him with the upmo...

California's Gods: Strange Platypus(es)

We've noticed lately a strange Californian dialectical twist: there, freeways take the definite article.  In other parts of the country one speaks of I 91 or 45 North.  In California, there's The 5, The 405, The 10.  Each of these freeways has its own quirks, a personality of sorts.  They aren't just stretches of pavement but presences, creatures that necessitate the definite article by their very individuality and uniqueness.  They are the angry gods to be worked, placated, feared, for without them life in California as we know it would cease.  Perhaps that's fitting for a land whose cities are named for saints and angels.  Mary may preside over the new pueblo of our lady of the angels, but the freeways slither like gigantic serpents through the waste places, malevolent spirits not yet trampled under foot.

Seeing Beowulf Through Tolkien: The Platypus Reads Part CXCIX

After spending a few weeks wrestling with Tolkien's interpretation of Beowulf , I found myself sitting down and reading Seamus Heaney's translation of the text during a spare moment.  I came to the place where Beowulf presents Hrothgar with the hilt of the ancient sword that slew Grendel's mother.  Hrothgar looks down at the hilt with its ancient runes and carvings depicting the war between the giants and God and meditates on the fortunes of men.  In a flash of insight, I thought: this is the whole poem! Let me explain.  Tolkien believed that the genuine contribution of the Northern peoples to European culture was the theory of courage.  The Northern heroes, at their best, were men who fought for order against chaos -a battle they knew they were doomed to lose.  If they were true heroes, their souls would join the gods and aid them in the final battle against darkness and its monsters and again go down fighting, spitting in the face of the meaninglessness...