Long And Cold, Blown On The Wind

The Broken Sword, VIII.

The witch asks her familiar, a rat:

"'...how went the journey?'" (p. 50)

He replies:

"'Long and cold... in bat shape, blown on the wind, I fared to Elfheugh...'" (ibid.)

That is as much as I plan to quote this evening but it suffices.

First, we notice that the wind takes a reasonably active role in the proceedings. By now we expect it to.

Secondly, the familiar's first three words sound familiar. I have read very little of Rudyard Kipling but have always been impressed by the following verse:

What of the hunting, hunter bold?

   Brother, the watch was long and cold.

What of the quarry ye went to kill?

  Brother, he crops in the jungle still.

Where is the power that made your pride?

 Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side.

Where is the haste that ye hurry by?

 Brother, I go to my lair to die!

-copied from here.

In a Poul Anderson text, there is always something to post about. Until some time tomorrow.

Wind-Driven Sleet And Stars

The Broken Sword, VII.

See Bluster, Chill, Whine.

When Valgard, who, of course, is a changeling, not really Ketil's brother, approaches the house where he will kill Ketil:

"A thin wind-driven sleet stung his cheeks." (p. 44)

The wind becomes fiercer as the action intensifies.

Ketil's younger brother, Asmund, finds Ketil's body under a cairn:

"'...with naught but wind and the stars for company.'" (p. 48)

- and with Valgard's axe in its head.

Asmund returns to the hall with the body, thus provoking a fight in which Valgard kills Orm, Asmund and several others and escapes into the woods.

The witch's vengeance seems to be complete but what happens next? I do not remember despite several previous readings (!) and, as frequently happens, I have to go out before possibly reading and posting more later this evening.

Life is good, especially with Poul Anderson in it.

Bluster, Chill, Whine

The Broken Sword, VII.

"On a blustery fall day, with the smell of rain in the keen air and leaves turned to gold and copper and bronze, Ketil and a few comrades rode forth to hunt." (p. 42)

They feel bluster and keenness, smell rain and see colours: three senses.

After chasing a huge noble white stag, Ketil is separated from his companions and:

"A thin chill wind whimpered through dusk." (ibid.)

Later, when Valgard seeks his now lost brother, Ketil:

"Wind whirled dead leaves through the air like ghosts hurrying down hell-road, and its whine gnawed at Valgard's nerves." (p. 44)

Wind blusters when the hunt is good, whimpers when Ketil is separated and whines when Valgard follows him. Poul Anderson's winds always follow his narratives. Will these autumnal Northern winds whirl two brothers down hell-road? Maybe but not tonight. I am going back to Stieg Larsson, then to bed.

Good night if you are in a part of the world where it is dark right now...

Truth

The Broken Sword, VI.

Odin disguised as Satan tells the witch:

"'...that truth is a thing which bears as many shapes as there are minds which strive to see it.'" (p. 39)

Not exactly. Something that was completely different for everyone would not be truth. It would be entirely subjective with no objectivity.

Science has become our way to discern some measure of empirical objectivity although it cannot tell us everything. When a man is diagnosed with cancer, that is his objective medical condition but it does not tell us everything about him. Two men with the same diagnosis can be in very different mental/psychological/spiritual states. 

When I was at University, a religious dogmatist proclaimed, "Truth is one. Error is manifold!" I replied, "Truth is one. Its expressions are manifold!" Those propositions are a classical Hegelian thesis and antithesis. We approach truth through syntheses. And at most we know only partial truths. "Truth is one" has a very different significance depending on who says it.

Mythological Metaphysics

The Broken Sword, V.

Imric's fleet raids a troll town:

"Though war was still not declared, such forays and tests of strength were growing common on either side." (p. 36)

Does that sound familiar to us now? There are powers that do not want to break a ceasefire but cannot make peace either. War and life become synonymous. 

This novel has a complex metaphysics. How do beings from all the mythologies coexist with each other and with the new god Whom elves etc cannot name? Alfheim is not just one of the Nine Worlds in the Tree but is also coterminous with the human world, Midgard.

Imric's elves defeat:

"...a group of exiled gods, grown thin and shrunken and mad in their loneliness but wielding fearsome powers even so." (pp. 36-37)

Who are these gods, neither Aesir nor Olympians? Maybe they are some that we have never heard of.

Neil Gaiman's The Sandman remains the most appropriate parallel text for Poul Anderson's fantasies that I know of. All gods exist as long as they are believed in. They begin and end in the Dreaming and linger in a Dream Country after their worship ceases.

Meanwhile, Escape...

In Poul Anderson's "The Queen of Air and Darkness," natives of an extra-solar planet entice children of human colonists into the wilderness where they create an illusory fairyland. Although these telepathic natives masquerade as Terrestrial "fairies," they are completely unlike them when seen as they really are. 

However, two other works by Anderson present more satisfying escapes from mundanity. 

Skafloc tells the Erlking:

"'I am wholly thankful to Imric that he rescued me from the dullblind round of mortal life. I am elf in all but blood, it was elf breasts I suckled as a babe and elf tongue I speak and elf girls I sleep beside.'"

-The Broken Sword, V, p. 35.

And, returning to an sf context, Diana Crowfeather runs away in:

Meanwhile Tigeries...

Many readers would gladly accompany Skafloc or Diana.

Some Elvish Dialogue

The Broken Sword, V.

"'...Imric, earl of Britain's elves...'" (p. 34)

- addresses the Erlking:

"'Were it not that men must never be sure their children are stolen, so that they would call their gods to avenge them, elves would make no changelings.'" (p. 35)

I am having trouble understanding this sentence. Imric means that, if men ever did know for sure that elves had replaced human children with changelings, then the men would call on their gods to avenge the loss of those children and, if that were to happen, then elves never would make changelings to exchange with human children. Elves make changelings only for this purpose and would not make them otherwise because of their:

"'...wild and evil nature...'" (ibid.)

Seeking illumination in the original text of the novel, we are even more confused because there we read:

"'Were it not that men must never be sore their children are stolen, so that they would call their gods to avenge it, elves would make no changelings at all.'"

-Poul Anderson, The Broken Sword (London, 1988), 5, p. 27.

I have very carefully reread this sentence in both editions in order to make sure that there are no copying errors on my part.

We learn some of what human beings can do that other intelligent species cannot:

use every metal;

touch holy water;

walk on holy ground;

speak the new god's name.

The Erlking points out that, if Skafloc turns to the new god, then the elves will lose him. In the original text, the Erlking had spoken not of Skafloc turning to the new god but of him turning Christian but presumably this part of the dialogue was changed because it involved the Erlking speaking the new god's name even though not as a noun but as the first syllable of an adjective.

Three Redes

Illrede is the troll-king in Poul Anderson's The Broken Sword.

Harald Hardrada (and here), King of Norway, is the title character of Anderson's The Last Viking Trilogy.

Brechdan Ironrede is the Hand of the Vach Ynvory and the Protector of the Roidhun's Grand Council in Anderson's Ensign Flandry.

"Rede" means "counsel or advice." Thus, these three characters -

a large, green, humanoid troll;

a white European man;

a large, green, humanoid Merseian -

- are respectively "ill," "hard" and "iron-like" (although not ironic!) in their counsel or advice.

Three similar, if not almost identical, names in works of heroic fantasy, historical fiction and science fiction, respectively, although readers recognize one creator.

Trolls come from legend, men are us, hostile green aliens were a space opera cliche before Anderson made much more of them with his Merseians.

All one multiverse.

Human Superiority In Fantasy?

The Broken Sword, V.

Sometimes, in sf, human beings are noticeably superior to other intelligent species. See a blog search result for human superiority. (Scroll down.) But see also More Ishtarian Superiority.

Can this also happen in fantasy? A dwarf tells Skafloc:

"'Let me tell you, boy, that you humans, weak and short-lived and unwitting, are nonetheless more strong than elves and trolls, aye, than giants and gods. And that you can touch cold iron is only one reason...'" (p. 33)

So what are the other reasons? Maybe we will be told. More generally, human beings ourselves are aware of our ambiguous status, weak and short-lived but able to reason and comprehend. In Indian philosophies, neither animals nor gods but only human beings can practice the way to liberation. The Buddha teaches gods and men.

What will come of this theme that human beings are stronger even than gods in Anderson's narrative about Skafloc?

(BTW, I have returned to rereading Stieg Larsson later in the evening when I want to stop blogging. Anderson and Larsson: what a combo! Larsson shows us how much can be done without venturing into history, the future or alternative histories. Here and now can be enough.)

Skafloc At Sea

The Broken Sword, V. 

Imric raises a wind for his black longship whose warrior crew will deal with any trolls or kraken. Skafloc, who has been given witch-sight, sees, whether by night or day:

porpoises;

an old bull seal acquaintance;

a broaching whale;

sea maidens;

"...the drowned tower of Ys..." (p. 31) (see Versions);

a gleam of Valkyries overhead.

There are also sounds. First, there is a hawk-scream from the Valkyries.

Secondly, because the voyage goes well:

"Wind sang in the rigging..." (ibid.)

- although, also:

"...and waves roared at the strakes." (ibid.)

Roaring wind would have conveyed a different message from singing wind although maybe the roaring waves should be seen not as a threat but just as one of the natural elements easily mastered by Imric's magic.

When the elves reach land, they visit dwarves and we are told that:

"The bandy-legged men scarce came to Skafloc's waist..." (p. 32)

The height difference between men and dwarves generated some minor comedy in one of the The Lord Of The Rings films although not in Tolkien's texts. Despite their shortness, Anderson's dwarves are broad-shouldered and long-armed with dark, bearded, angry faces. No comedy here, either.

Blog readers might be forgiven for thinking that my attention is not always on the text. Indeed. Life continues here. Today is a Bank Holiday Monday which meant that the gym was closed although that did not prevent me from walking to it! It also meant that the Friends' Meeting House was closed. Therefore, there was no Zen group. However, there was, in a nearby Methodist Community Centre, a launch meeting for a new book to mark the centenary of the British General Strike. All of this means that I can't just stay here and blog! Nevertheless, we will persevere with the tale of Skafloc.