Coldfire re-read: Black Sun Rising - chapters 35-37

[trobadora]

Three chapters today - our party's got separated, and we're checking up on everyone, including our adversary.

Plot summary

Chapter 35
The Hunter, in bird form, does some reconnaissance. He finds the Lost Ones' caves, and finally takes shelter for the day. Oops, though - he walks straight into a trap, and a vision of Almea traps him in sunlight.

Chapter 36
Damien & company realise Gerald's not coming back, and decide to move on on their own. We hear a little more about rakh sorcery as Damien talks Hesseth into attempting to Work an Obscuring for them.

Chapter 37
The Master of Lema feeds on Gerald, and Calesta promises her he can keep him suspended like that for her indefinitely. The Master orders him to have something equally pleasant ready for Ciani.

Quotes

• Taking chances, Hunter? Not like you.
  Hell. This whole damned trip isn’t like you.


• He would be hard put to say exactly what drove him to continue, as dawn’s increasing light made each wingstroke harder to manage, each rational thought that much harder to muster. He had already found two cav­erns that would have been more than adequate shelter for the coming day, but had entered neither of them. Instead he had turned toward the north and begun to search for some sign of the Lost Ones, some gesture of hope that he might bring back to his grieving party. And even while he searched, it irritated him that he cared enough to bother. Cared enough to risk the pain of sun­light in service to their cause. That was dangerous. That was human. But the feeling was there, too strong to ig­nore. Not born of sympathy, however, but of anger.
  My failure, he thought grimly, recalling Senzei’s body. It wasn’t the man’s death that bothered him so much; that life was as valueless as any other, and in another place and time he might have snuffed it out himself, with no more passing thought than one gave to the squashing of an insect. No - what bothered him was simply the fact that he, Gerald Tarrant, had been bested. Tricked. His own Working had been turned against him, without him even sensing it. That burned him, more than Domina’s light and the coming dawn combined.


• At last, satisfied that he was safe - for the moment - he let the current take him. Let his flesh dissolve, so that no more than his faith remained to maintain the spark of his life. It was terrify­ing, never ceased to be terrifying, not in all the years he had practiced it.


• He had been growing weaker nightly, forced to rely upon primitive rakh and sometimes even more primitive animals for his suste­nance. If the fae had to come from within him instead of being garnered from without, he would have been forced to stop Working long ago. The humans had no idea how much this trip was draining him - and they damned well weren’t going to find out, either. It wasn’t that he was afraid, exactly. Certainly not of that brash, swaggering fool of a priest. It was more a question of . . . pride. Stubbornness. And of course, self-defense.


• “He should have stayed with us. We could have pro­tected him.”
  “Yes. Well.” He drew in a slow breath, tried to calm his own shaking nerves. “There wasn’t much likelihood of that, was there? He trusted me only slightly less than I trusted him. And now we’re both paying the price for it.”
  Him more than me. A thousand times more. What kind of hell awaits a man like that? He tried to imagine it, and shivered. I wouldn’t wish that on any man. Not even him.


• “Yes. Like the humans do. How else do you think we got here, ten thousand light-years from our native planet? Of all the species of Earth, we alone learned to override our animal instinct. Oh, it wasn’t easy, and it isn’t always reliable. I don’t have to tell you what a jury-rigged mess the human brain is, as a result. But if there’s any one definition of humanity, that’s it: the triumph of intelligence over an animal heritage. And you inherited our intellect! Your people could be everything to this planet that we were to ours. All you have to do is learn to cast off the limitations of a more primitive time-”
  “And look where that got you!” she said scornfully. “Is this supposed to be our goal? To have our souls di­vided, with each part pulling in a different direction? Like yours? Vampires don’t haunt us in the night; ghosts don’t disturb our sleep. Those things are humanity’s cre­ation - the echoes of that part of you which you’ve bur­ied. Denied. The ‘animal instinct’ which screams for freedom, locked in the lightless depths of your uncon­scious mind.” She shook her head; there was pity in her eyes. “We live at peace with this world and with our­selves. You don’t. That’s our definition of humanity.”

Thoughts

• So, why does Tarrant keep out so long that he almost doesn't find shelter in time? Is it really just wounded pride? Is his own explanation sufficient, or do you think there's something else at play? Tarrant himself notes how little any of this is like him, after all.


• I'm intrigued by Damien's assessment of the (lack of) trust between him and Gerald. Do you think he has it right? Who trusts whom more, and in what way? A heavy subject, but considering what's to come, I'm curious how you see the state of affairs at this point in time.


• Humanity and the rakh: This time, it really is cliché time, isn't it? I find this "we overcame our instincts!" / "we're at peace with the world!" dichotomy tedious, and far less interesting than everything else about the rakh so far. Anyone disagree? Opinions?


• We have one of the rare Tarrant POV chapters here - how well do you think that works? Is he as fascinating from the inside as from the outside? Do his rationalisations change your opinion of him? Of course we don't see him do anything nasty here - do you think that's deliberate, that we see him from the inside when he's more the victim than the Hunter?

I may be a little late replying to comments, since notifications are currently very very delayed for me, but I'm sure we can have fun with a slower discussion. *g* On Thursday, we'll be continuing with chapter 38, where we'll encounter the Lost Ones.

Comments

[carmentalis.livejournal.com]

Can I just remark that Gerald starts a trend here of getting himself into situations he'll ultimately need Damien to drag him out of? *g*

Is his own explanation sufficient, or do you think there's something else at play? Tarrant himself notes how little any of this is like him, after all.

I think the irritation had a major part in it. He's absolutely livid that someone managed to trick him, and now there isn't even anyone he can take his anger out on. It's like needing to pace when you're agitated about something, or needing to go for a breath of fresh air. Though after last chapter's little involvement of Calesta, it's tempting to wonder whether the bit in CoS where Gerald is tricked into not noticing the coming sunrise doesn't have an echo here.

I'm intrigued by Damien's assessment of the (lack of) trust between him and Gerald.

I think this needs to be looked at on two different layers. They both trust each other not to kill each other under the circumstances, which is a major leap of faith for both of them, given who they are. They aren't wavering on that, and there are instances like Damien trusting Tarrant enough to let him form the mind channel, and Tarrant trusting Damien to admit his vulnerabilities.

Where they don't trust each other is that the other will go out of his way to help beyond the necessities of their mission. Damien is in a permanent awe over Tarrant helping him during their capture by the rakh, and Tarrant here doesn't trust Damien to come after him and rescue him. Their truce doesn't extend that far, and they have not really tested it yet. So they've got something that could be called professional faith in each other, but they haven't reached a level of personal trust yet. Which goes for Tarrant a little more than Damien; I think Damien got that assessment right.

Of course we don't see him do anything nasty here - do you think that's deliberate, that we see him from the inside when he's more the victim than the Hunter?

I love the few Tarrant POV chapters we get throughout the trilogy. More of them and they wouldn't be so effective, but the amount we get is just enough to give a few insights. I actually see him as the Hunter in this chapter, given how much we get to see of his irritation with the current state of matters. He's annoyed that he's been misled and beaten at his own game, and then goes down that path he'll follow a few more times, of ignoring concerns out of principle and because he's set his mind on something.

[trobadora]

Though after last chapter's little involvement of Calesta, it's tempting to wonder whether the bit in CoS where Gerald is tricked into not noticing the coming sunrise doesn't have an echo here.

That's actually why I asked - this whole chapter, with dawn approaching and Gerald out much longer than he ought to be, was so very reminiscent of the one in CoS. I wonder if that's a deliberate echo there.

As for the trust question, you're right of course: The real question is just what is meant by "trust". At this point they're both quite sure that the other wouldn't go out of their way to help if they could avoid it, and I think when Damien violates that particular assumption is when something truly breaks, and the whole thing becomes personal. But when Damien makes his statement here, it's about why (and how) Gerald left them, and I don't trust was the issue there.

I actually see him as the Hunter in this chapter,

Yeah, I think I didn't quite get across what I meant - he's very much himself here, but the point is, we see him from the inside when he's doing something fairly innocous. His mind's not such a terribly dark place to be in, in this chapter.

[carmentalis.livejournal.com]

It's a setup, so it certainly is a possibility that Calesta has his hand in it. Though I'm not sure whether he'd really go that far at this point - in CoS they're having a far more personal feud, while here Tarrant is still just a general foe. It's a bit too... elaborate? intricate? for him to go for such a tailormade deception already.

I think when Damien violates that particular assumption is when something truly breaks, and the whole thing becomes personal.

It's so easy to imagine Gerald spending a few weeks after that going "just why did he do this?" and generally being all over-analyzing about it. *g*

Come to think of it, the situation in this chapter is a bit odd. Damien thinks Gerald doesn't trust him. On the other hand, I don't think Gerald really had any qualms about taking shelter nearby - he's done it before, so putting up a nice little Coldfire wall would have been enough. So Damien broods because he thinks he isn't trustworthy enough, while Gerald just wants to have a moment of private irritation about the whole situation.

His mind's not such a terribly dark place to be in, in this chapter.

Depends on how you interpret that fleeting thought that under other circumstances he might just have killed Senzei himself and avoided all this trouble. ;-) And of course there's that timely reminder in form of Almea's ghost. It's a more subtle chapter than some other Hunter POVs we get, but there's still plenty of darkness in it, simply because it's lingering in the background at any time.

[trobadora]

o Damien broods because he thinks he isn't trustworthy enough, while Gerald just wants to have a moment of private irritation about the whole situation.

Yes, exactly! :D It's funny how he clearly wants Gerald to trust him ...

(As for Gerald's thoughts - I think worse myself every day; even if you know he's deadly serious, it's still not a particularly extreme thought so long as it's just a thought. And the Almea thing is alluded to, but never explicitly spelled out either. Very toned down, IMO.)

[carmentalis.livejournal.com]

Yes, exactly! :D It's funny how he clearly wants Gerald to trust him ...

It's like Gerald is the really reluctant, stubborn and deeply black sheep in Damien's little flock. At least from Damien's perspective. ;-)

Difference with Gerald's thoughts is that if he considers killing someone, you'd best not make long-term plans. If I consider killing someone, it's a moment of wishful thinking. And I do hope it's the same with you. ;-)

I think that for him it's just so normal by now to have the option of murder in his repertoire of options that he doesn't pay it any particular attention anymore.

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

I think it's interesting about the trust issue. Methinks they doth protest too much ;) "I don't trust you", "well, I don't trust you more", sounds like they're both trying to convince themselves that they don't, but underneath it all, they both trust each other enough to know they would do what was necessary.

[trobadora]

Well, not far from now everything's going to depend on that distrust, so I'd say it's quite genuine. They may both want to trust each other, on some level, but they don't dare.

[fyrie.livejournal.com]

What was a kick in thr gut for me in WTNF was when Gerald blatantly manipulates said trust and Damien's sheer sense of betrayal in the scene where Gerald is siding with the Prince.

[trobadora]

Yeah. It's also a neat turnaround, though, isn't it? In BSR, Damien's rescue works because Gerald utterly believes that he won't be rescued, and in WTNF Gerald's infiltration works because Damien really believes he's been betrayed.

[devohoneybee.livejournal.com]

It also works because Gerald *trusts* Damien to handle himself even when he believes himself completely betrayed. One of my "melt" moments was when Gerald stands over the sleeping Damien, before the actual betrayal, and comments on how brave Damien is, wondering if it will be "enough." There is a great tenderness in that moment, almost a shared pain in what he will put Damien through.

[prettyarbitrary.livejournal.com]

Catching up:

Re-reading these chapters, the two things that stand out are Tarrant (as usual) in his oddly human scene before his capture, and Hesseth.

Leaving aside the cliche, which I consider really just a distraction (or maybe a reflection of how Damien's mind works, as he's the one who puts that dichotomy into action), we get a glimpse of Hesseth as a native Worker (for all her arguments against the term). As usual, I'm left wondering--about rakh Vision, and the rakh relationship with the fae. And in a book where the author manipulates cultural strands so deftly, I have to wonder how such a close, conscious relationship with the fae must affect rakh mindset and rakh society.

Now, Tarrant's POV chapter never fails to capture my attention. Senzei's flowed into the story so seamlessly that I'd forgotten he even had that many POV chapters, but Tarrant's stands out. His come so seldom. Here, it's really odd, because his motivations seem so human, but up to this point I feel like we've been discouraged from thinking of him as human. Then again, he insists--even in his own mind--that his feelings are not motivated by pity or compassion, but by anger and pride. Then again, when we're sitting in his head, why should he even need to make that argument to himself? Or is it an unusually clumsy insertion provided for the reader's benefit?

Anyway, his fairly normal train of thought and the vulnerability we see here do definitely serve to humanize him. I felt, the first time, that it was unnecessary. It seemed downright strange to take this character who had been so carefully built up as a nearly unstoppable force, and suddenly crack him open like this. Is it just a necessary move, an explanation of how even someone like him can be captured? Or does it serve a greater purpose in the pacing of the story, that here's where we finally get a hint that under those centuries of self-suppression and reconstructing his own personality, he's still essentially human after all?

And then chapter 37--the language of the Keeper here began to throw me. The first time I read it, it struck me as weirdly effeminate (deliberately so, do you think?), but I didn't stop to consider it much. But looking back (or forward?) now, I think I agree with alighiera's earlier comment: it feels a bit cheap, like a deliberate trick that doesn't seem to serve any final purpose. Sure, it drives home that assumptions can trap you, but...I'm trying to think back over the rest of the story and figure how important that really is to drive home. Is it just meant as a sort of foreshadowing over the eventual reveal about the Iezu (which is much more skillfully handled)?

[trobadora]

Yes, I think you're picking up on the same thing I did with the Tarrant scene. You lay it out perfectly - he's humanised (and normalised) rather a lot, and I'm still not sure exactly why.

[prettyarbitrary.livejournal.com]

Maybe she figured she needed to do it eventually, and that was as good a time as any?

I get why it needed to happen at some point. Tarrant's spent a lot of effort over the years constructing a persona for the Hunter that's alien and impenetrable. To make him seem like something more than an undead killer, we do need to get in there and see that he's still got some of the human in him. And I suppose that logically it's the perfect time to do it (and necessary; they'd never have gotten him if he was with the others, which means that short of writing from a rock's POV, he's really the only option).

Maybe we're bemused by the wrong thing? Maybe it's actually a natural place for that to go, and it's just because we've gotten so little of Tarrant's POV up till now that it seems to come out of nowhere.

But as you can see, I still can't shake the oddity of it.

[trobadora]

Maybe we're bemused by the wrong thing?

Maybe we are! I mean, rock POV problems aside (after the Xandu chapter, I have faith she could pull it off *g*) - I can absolutely see why logistically this is the place where it had to be done. He's about to be captured, and for his suffering to have full impact, for you to want him rescued, he needs to be sympathetic. So cracking his façade and humanising him a little makes sense here. And yet ...

But as you can see, I still can't shake the oddity of it.

The more I think of it, I think it's because it doesn't feel like it comes organically. It seems too much like a strategically placed reveal, too much like the author stepping in and telling us, "Oh, btw, people, despite the Hunter's persona he's still quite human underneath. Plz not to be forgetting!"

[prettyarbitrary.livejournal.com]

I think you're right. Like the he/she thing with the Master of Lema, it seems self-conscious. *sigh* So I suppose we have to concede that Friedman is not a perfect writer? Ah, those cursed human flaws!

Actually, though, I'm kind of glad that the writing is occasionally less than perfect. It helps me appreciate the overall quality of the writing, and it also makes it a bit easier to tease out some of the subtler aspects of the story.

[trobadora]

Ah, those cursed human flaws!

Yeah, that's probably it. *g* It just throws you because she's usually far from heavy-handed.

[eveningfire.livejournal.com]

I'm surprised that people think the chapter written from Tarrant's POV is out of place, because it's actually one of my favorite parts of the series. I don't think it makes Tarrant seem overly human or nice. It just reveals that he thinks like an intelligent being, and of course he is aware of his vulnerabilities and worries about things like any rational creature would. In fact I think the chapter brings out his irritable temper very well, and his arrogance (he is really annoyed that someone bested him and that overrides his usual caution and makes him stay out too late). And I love how he is afraid of shapeshifting but would never admit it to others; it just makes me like him so much more.

Oh, and yes, I'm new here, but I've been lurking for a long time. Hi everyone!

[prettyarbitrary.livejournal.com]

Hi hi! We love to hear from new people!

It's true; all those things you mention are there. It's not that I (and I think trobadora) don't like the chapter--actually I welcome it, because it's one of our rare glimpses into Tarrant--it's just that it throws me that it shows up when it does. Like I said, I'm not even sure why. In a lot of ways, it should make perfect sense that it's placed where it is. I don't know if it's just that Tarrant POVs are so rare that they startle me when they turn up, or if the chapter's positioning in the narrative reads to me like the author thought, "Oh gosh, I need this to go in at some point, and I've run out of places I can put it!"

I do love how creeped out he is by shapeshifting. It's one of those things that makes me appreciate him for the cold bastard he is. :)

[trobadora]

Yep, to all that. I completely agree.

I do love how creeped out he is by shapeshifting. It's one of those things that makes me appreciate him for the cold bastard he is. :)

Yes! And just think about how often he does it, both here and in WTNF. *shivers*

[trobadora]

Hey there, and welcome aboard! Very happy to see some new faces here. :-)

I do think seeing Tarrant from the inside like this humanises him to some degree - that's natural, because nothing's ever so alien as something you only see from the outside. But as prettyarbitrary says, it's not that we don't like the chapter; it's that it startles us for some reason, and we're trying to tease out why. I actually like it rather a lot, but then I've read the whole trilogy many times, and I know Tarrant's precarious humanity. At this point in the book, the reader knows far less than that, and I just never expect this to come when it does.