Prologue Pep-Talks

Persistently Pedantic

I’ve already made it clear that I believe there’s something other than an objective analysis in the original article, and I’ve also mentioned several times that taking things out of context will cause confusion. Hopefully, I haven’t been so repetitive as to put you off, and you’re still reading on! In this next section, the fact that the analysis has changed from objective to subjective, becomes even clearer.

Scenes Should Highlight the Action

CW:Next, another character enters the scene. Thank goodness; maybe something will happen.

Armour clanking, soldier appeared along the wall near him. The man leaned vambraced forearms on the battlement, the scabbard of his longsword scraping against the stones. “Glad for your pure blood, eh?” he asked, grey eyes on the smouldering city below.

CW:Pure blood of what? Does this just mean Ganoes is a nobleman? What does that have to do with the riot? Who knows! Again, mysteries require some context. Complete bewilderment isn’t mystery.

Instead of replying to this, Ganoes just stares at the soldier so Erikson can dump two more paragraphs of exposition. Is it exposition that explains anything about what the soldier said? Of course not. I’ve put only the first paragraph below, because my goal isn’t to bore you to death.”

Chris asks, “Pure blood of what?” – It is clear from the text that Ganoes is of a noble house/noble blood. CW: What does this have to do with the riot?” What it has to do with the riot is about his location in the Hold. He is safer than the other citizens because of his status as noble born – how many nobles, unless they are also soldiers, take part in riots in any story? Or even in reality if you like? It’s a case of safety. Additionally, we find out his age in the next section, and it can be assumed (with a factual basis) that Ganoes is removed from the riots beneath because he is of a noble house and so young, because his father is somewhat powerful.

Anyway, let’s get back to it. The next book quote is as follows:

The boy studied the soldier. He already knew the complete regimental accoutrements of the Imperial Army, and the man at his side was a commander in the Third – one of the Emperor’s own, an elite. On his dark grey shoulder-cloak was a silver brooch: a bridge of stone, lit by ruby flames. A Bridgeburner.

CW:This paragraph tells me this guy is a commander of an elite unit. That’s all; everything else is meaningless. He’s in the Third something, accoutrement? I don’t know what that is, and this time I’m not going to look it up. Erikson hasn’t said what a Bridgeburner is.

The second paragraph is just more about the island and empire, blah blah.

It looks like Erikson is slowly moving into Ganoes head. Just a few paragraphs ago, Erikson was expositing Mock’s Hold while Ganoes stared in the other direction. Now he’s using the boy’s attention to explain where the exposition comes from. It’s still distant narration, but I’m not sure it’s omniscient anymore. Theoretically, the closer distance could help us to get to know Ganoes. However, given the dearth of personality in the narration so far, I doubt it will do that.

Accoutrement refers to the type of uniform the soldier is wearing. And yes, I did look it up, but it’s also inferred in the text because Ganoes recognises the soldier’s uniform. Either way, it’s obvious that this guy is part of the Imperial Army, because it’s stated in the text. This gives context. It’s some sort of regiment in the army of the emperor (we can assume Kellanved.) The man is a Bridgeburner – the fact that it is in italics for emphasis, shows that whoever this soldier is, he’s important. That’s more context – even though we don’t know what a Bridgeburner is the reader can make a valid assumption that this title refers to a part of the army or solider group that deals with a particular thing. Readers also know that Ganoes is a boy, which implies youth – a young son. Youngsters have no tact or sense of decorum; they just are. Youthful innocence and arrogance, if you like. As for Chris’s opinion that there has been a lack of personality in the narration, only eight paragraphs into a prologue, why would you expect there to be? Unless the prologue was specifically centred on a character, which this one is not.

Then comes the next book quote:

Is it true then?” Ganoes asked boldly.

“Is what true?”

“The First Sword of the Empire. Dassem Ultor. We heard in the capital before we left. He’s dead. Is it true? Is Dassem dead?”

The man seemed to flinch, his gaze unwavering on the Mouse. “Such is war,” he muttered, under his breath, as if the words were not meant for anyone else’s ears.

“You’re with the Third. I thought the Third was with him, in Seven Cities. At Y’Ghatan – “

“Hood’s Breath, they’re still looking for his body in the still-hot rubble of that damned city, and here you are, a merchant’s son three thousand leagues from Seven Cities with information only a few are supposed to possess.” He still did not turn. “I know not your sources, but take my advice and keep what you know to yourself.”

Ganoes shrugged. “It is said he betrayed a god.

CW: Why are we watching characters standing around on a wall talking when we could be watching this Dassem betray a god and get smited for it? This work has 92 characters and probably ten POVs or something. Erikson might as well include Dassem. Why did he choose to open his series with this moment on the wall?

Maybe Ganoes is the hero and Erikson wanted to introduce him. That would be a good intention, but in that case, Erikson should have chosen a moment in Ganoes’s life that mattered. Instead he chose a moment in which Ganoes stands around gawking at things and spouting convenient exposition.

Why are we watching them talking? Why did he choose to open this way? Because it’s relevant. This is an introduction for the rest of the book. Erikson is giving the reader a hook to chew on. How significant are these people talking? What are they on about? How did Dassem die? Why and how did he betray a god? Will I find out if I read on? It’s more than likely.

CW:Erikson should have chosen a moment in Ganoes’s life that mattered.

This is another unfounded assumption. Who is to say that this is not a moment in his life that mattered to him? Further on in the story, readers see that it is an occasion that Ganoes considers significant enough that he remembers the interaction. Just because we do not know that this is significant at the time of reading is not the point. Again, Chris is assuming that this is insignificant without any evidence.

CW:Setting aside the poor choice of opening scene, let’s look at the dialogue. Does it sound like these two people are talking to each other?

I cannot fathom how this dialogue doesn’t sound like a conversation.

Again, I’m numbering instead of bullet-pointing.

CW: 1 – “Certainly “is it true” and “is what true” are well connected. Full marks for that. I will forgive the way Ganoes says “is it true” out of nowhere, since people do that sometimes.

CW: 2 – “Then Ganoes answer to “is what true?” is “The First Sword of the Empire.” That doesn’t compute. Yes, Ganoes gets to the point later, but it’s a strange immediate response. I think the idea here is that Ganoes is using Dassem’s title because the rest is supposed to be obvious. But it’s not obvious to readers, and it doesn’t square with the idea that Ganoes knows information no one else does. Plus, if he’s just blurting out Dassem’s title to start, I would expect it to be just “The First Sword,” with the extra of “Empire” dropped.

Ganoes has heard a rumour in the capital and he’s looking for confirmation from a Bridgeburner (whose position in the army makes Ganoes think that this guy has the answer.) As for the follow up from “is what true?” I’m not entirely sure why Chris is confused by ‘The First Sword of the Empire” rather than just “The First Sword.” By adding of the Empire, Erikson is showing us that he’s talking about someone who worked for/belonged to the Empire. He’s giving us context again. Also, we know that Ganoes is from a noble house, so he’s probably been taught to respect authority and use titles where applicable. It is the same in respect of how he recognises the uniforms of soldiers. These are probably things he has been taught.

CW: 3 – “Next, Erikson has a purposeful interruption in which the commander mutters under his breath. Erikson helpfully tells us it’s done as if the words weren’t meant for other ears. Does this mean it is, in fact, meant for Ganoes’s ears and the commander doesn’t have any volume control? Either way, muttering while you stare at the horizon is an odd response.

Muttering could just indicate that he doesn’t really want to disclose information, or doesn’t know how to answer Ganoes questions but that muttering equates to anything other than annoyance or possible breach of confidentiality regarding another high-ranking officer is just being critical for the sake of it. It’s not that deep. Just as an aside, the commander is not staring at the horizon, he’s watching the Mouse Quarter, where people are rioting and fighting. “Such is war” links what he’s watching with the idea of war, and death.

CW: 4 – “For some reason, Ganoes seems to take his lack of response to mean the commander doesn’t know the answer. So he blurts out some exposition to explain why the commander is supposed to know.

Again, he’s a boy, fishing for information. This also expands the universe, letting readers know that a place called Y’Ghatan  – in Seven Cities exists and that there’s some fighting going on there too.

CW: 5 – “The commander doesn’t answer once again, and for some reason he is not willing to say he won’t answer. So he just starts lampshading how Ganoes knows all this world exposition he wouldn’t realistically know.

Now, I admit, I had no idea what ‘lampshading’ was, so I looked it up, and in writing (because there are lots of different ways to use the word) it is ‘a writers’ trick of dealing with any element of the story that seems to dubious to take at face value, whether a very implausible plot development or a particularly blatant use of a trope, by calling attention to it and simply moving on.‘ I find it interesting that Chris thinks that this is what has happened. In fact, the whole point is interesting in that sense because not only does the commander pretty much confirm that Dassem is more than likely dead, given that people are “still looking for his body in the still-hot rubble of that damned city” – which answers Ganoes’ question, but also the ‘lampshading’ is simply not there. The commander doesn’t know Ganoes sources, but the reader does – because it was said earlier that he “brushed shoulders” with “high-ranking soldiers and officials.”

CW: 6 – “Instead of giving the commander some kind of relevant response, Ganoes takes another opportunity to exposit about what happened. At least it’s short and dramatic. The shrug is odd, though. Is betraying a god really something people shrug about in this setting?

Ganoes shrugs because he’s got his answer, and his response is his explanation for it. Dassem betrayed a god, therefore that must be the reason he died. It’s straightforward.

CW: 7 – “Altogether, I’m getting the impression this dialogue is disjointed so Erikson has an excuse to tell readers what he wants. But if he’s going to give information for the sake of the reader, maybe he could start by making the story comprehensible.

This is where more subjectivity enters the analysis. Chris is saying the story is incomprehensible, but it isn’t, and there is no proof to suggest otherwise.

Still, we progress to the next part of the prologue.

Finally the man faced him. His face was scarred, and something that might have been a burn marred his jaw and left cheek. For all that, he looked young for a commander. “Heed the lesson there, son.”

“What lesson?”

“Every decision you make can change the world. The best life is the one the gods don’t notice. You want to live free, boy, live quietly.”

“I want to be a soldier. A hero.”

“You’ll grow out of it.”

CW:It’s only the prologue, and we already have a heroic pep talk! It’s especially strange because Ganoes was just curious about what happened, as anyone would be. How does the commander know Ganoes wants to be a hero? It’s almost as if some omniscient creator imbued the commander with special knowledge that Ganoes is a protagonist.

I’m not sure if Chris got confused here, because her objection doesn’t make sense.  How does the commander know Ganoes wants to be a hero? Ganoes quite literally says it to the commander. It’s also not a pep talk – pep talks generally “big-up” the idea, enthuse and encourage someone etc. This is not what the commander is doing – actually it’s the opposite. He’s trying to convince Ganoes not to be a soldier, and to live a quiet life. Reading into the text suggests that Ganoes sees the soldiers as heroes and it’s something he aspires to be. The fact that the commander is warning Ganoes against being a soldier brings more relevance to the scene – there is a reason the commander is trying to talk the young man out of his ideas. Readers don’t know what it is yet, but the inference is there.

CW:Here’s the lesson you can take from this. Every story you write can change the world. The best career is the one the public doesn’t notice. If you want to live free, write quietly.

More unnecessary mockery for a teaching article.

CW:Now that I’ve given you some sage advice that fits very naturally into this article, I should mention that I like the assertion that Ganoes will grow out of wanting to be a hero. It has a little humour. Also, I hope he actually does. That would be more interesting that yet another young white boy who naively wants to save the world.

It is not an assertion, it’s an assumption – the commander cannot know what will or will not happen to Ganoes. Another assumption – that Ganoes is white – is a massive one. I understand the arguments as to why Chris makes this assumption, but there is no factual content representing this assumption in the text.

Mock’s Vane squealed as a wayward gust from the harbour cleared the grainy smoke. Ganoes could now smell rotting fish and the waterfront’s stink of humanity.

CW: “Mock’s Vane returns! For some reason. I’m sure it’s very Symbolic, given its presence in such a Serious work. Also, why would a waterfront stink of humanity? Waterfronts are well known for their water, which makes packed crowds of sweating people notably less likely. Is there sewage in the water? I hope not.

I don’t think that a waterfront would necessarily stink of humanity, however, this feels like a near-medieval setting, and it’s plausible that the rioting people (as well as those not yet rioting/not involved) from Mouse Quarter (who are the poorest, as the reader knows) are fleeing away from the scene and their “scent” has been picked up and carried with the wind as it changed, along with the rotting fish. I am assuming, based on the facts given in text, that they have a “scent” because the poorest in these settings are usually living in less than adequate circumstances and have not washed etc.

Another Bridgeburner, this one with a broken, scorched fiddle strapped to his back, came up to the commander. He was wiry and if anything younger – only a few years older than Ganoes himself, who was twelve. Strange pock marks covered his face and the backs of his hands, and his armour was a mixture of foreign accoutrements over a threadbare, stained uniform.

CW:Ganoes is twelve? I assumed he was a teenager. Again, there are a number of hints in the text that he’s young, but they’re just hints. With everything else going on, I didn’t pick them up, and a young protagonist’s age is something readers should know right away. His age would have been easy to work in, since the narration was in omniscient when Ganoes was introduced.

The hints that Ganoes was young were very noticeable in my opinion, but if they weren’t picked up then that’s fair to say. I agree that his age could have been worked in earlier, but also consider this to be the first time that his age is relevant to the scenario – in that Ganoes is comparing himself to another younger person. I also don’t think that the age of a character is something a reader should know right away, and I say that as a reader. However, I can see why there could be a case for it in some settings.

CW:Alright, so soldier #2 has entered the scene. What will happen next? If you guessed ‘more disjointed conversation,’ you’re correct!

And the quote:

“It’s a bad smell when sorcerers panic,” the newcomer said. “They’re losing control down there. Hardly the need for a whole cadre of mages, just to sniff out a few wax-witches.”

The commander sighed. “Thought to wait to see if they’d rein themselves in.”

The soldier grunted. “They are all new, untested. This could scar some of them for ever. Besides,” he added, “more than a few down there are following someone else’s orders.”

“A suspicion, no more.”

“The proof’s right there,” the other man said. “In the Mouse.”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re too protective,” the man said.”

CW:It almost sounds as though there’s something much more interesting happening in the Mouse Quarter right now. But to be fair to Erikson, if the prologue featured the Mouse Quarter instead, we would just watch some mages have a bewildering discussion.

It’s fairly clear that these soldiers are discussing mages doing things they shouldn’t. But “Besides” in the third paragraph trips me up every time. This word means the soldier is making an argument, but what?

My best guess is that he’s still supporting his very first statement, “It’s a bad smell when sorcerer’s panic.” However, his commander didn’t disagree about that, so if that’s the case, why is he still arguing? If he wants his commander to go in and stop them, why doesn’t he say so?

After that, how is the commander’s skepticism protective? Is he protecting the mages? If I stop and think about it, I can come up with plausible ways to fill the cracks of logic here, but it takes me out of the story. After a couple of scenes doing this, I’d probably be exhausted. And what payoff would I get for trying to decipher such shoddy communication? Nothing I couldn’t get from a fantasy series that didn’t make me do all of this work.

It’s interesting that Erikson hasn’t named either the commander or the soldier under his command. It’s a good decision if these characters won’t appear again, but it’s odd considering how Erikson hasn’t held back with other proper nouns.

I know that this is a fair chunk of text, but I want to address this section in its totality because it really comes down to two things on the part of CW. Taking text out of context, and misunderstanding use of a word in the text.

When things are taken out of context, which has happened quite regularly in this analysis, things don’t make sense, or have less of a chance to be understood. The teaching focus here, should be on writers, aspiring or otherwise, to remember that context is key (for the most part) particularly in terms of conversation. That does not mean that the reader cannot be ‘dropped’ into a conversation that they don’t know anything about, because context follows in the exposition. However, to deliberately omit the next part of the conversation here, just to ask questions, make assumptions about the text and find fault is not a useful teaching tool.

Chris’s responses to this part of the conversation, from an analysis perspective, are somewhat understandable because the conversation is taken out of context, and this, ironically, is a perfect example for writers as to the confusion that taking things out of context can cause.

Where Chris is “tripped up” about the use of ‘Besides’ in the third paragraph Chris states that “this word means the soldier is making an argument” but the use of ‘besides’ in this case, means “also” or “in addition to” – because it’s conversational – the soldier is really saying ‘Oh, and another thing, more than a few down there are following someone else’s orders.’  The correct understanding of the word makes the next set of arguments irrelevant.

The next part of the article is the remainder of the conversation between the characters, and, now that context is in place, aside from a few comments about the author over-using the wind and the weathervane, Chris herself overturns the argument she made earlier about “disjointed conversation” because when read as a whole, the “dialogue is fairly easy to follow.” Again, there is a shift in tone of the analysis, moving towards the negative aspects I’ve previously mentioned being prevalent throughout. I am, again, not going to re-iterate Chris’s comments here, but here is the text from the book, continuing the conversation that was stopped out of context for previous comments:

“You’re too protective,” the man said. “Surly says it’s your greatest weakness.”

“Surly’s the Emperor’s concern, not mine.”

A second grunt answered that. “Maybe all of us before too long.”

The commander was silent, slowly turning to study his companion.

The man shrugged. “Just a feeling. She’s taking a new name, you know. Laseen.”

“Laseen?”

“Napan word. Means -”

“I know what it means.”

“Hope the Emperor does, too.”

Ganoes said, “It means Thronemaster.”

The two looked down at him.

The wind shifted again, making the iron demon groan on its perch – a smell of cool stone from the Hold itself. “My tutor’s Napan,” Ganoes explained.

One criticism I can agree with is as follows:

CW:The sentence with the weather vane should be in the same paragraph as “The two looked down at him.” There, it would more naturally draw out the pause in the conversation. Ganoes’s dialogue marks a shift to a new person; it should start a new paragraph.”

The wind shifted again, making the iron demon groan on its perch – a smell of cool stone from the Hold itself.

One of the things I should mention here, that Chris didn’t, is that this last sentence could have been worded better regarding the smell from the Hold – even just adding  a reference would help, for example: The wind shifted again, making the iron demon groan on its perch – it carried with it a smell of cool stone from the Hold itself. Or something similar, and better. This is the first time I was taken out of the text while reading. The reader knows what Erikson means, but it feels out of place without an extra reference.

Next, Chris looks at why Villains Don’t Have to Look Villainous.

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