Brisingr Spork, Part 7: To Walk the Land Alone (1/4)

[pangolin20]

hidden_urchin wrote in antishurtugal, 2016-11-27 18:48:00


Brisingr Spork, Part 7: To Walk the Land Alone (1/4)


“To Walk the Land Alone” is a long chapter. Twenty-three pages, to be exact. In order to make the task more manageable, I have broken it down by Eragon’s moral choices. This is the first of four sporks.

***

To Hunt or Not to Hunt (~2,300 words)

“To Walk the Land Alone” starts with a stomach and a surprise. The stomach is Eragon’s. The surprise is that it starts rumbling.
Yes, as Eragon—who has been running all night while carrying Sloan—stretches, a “loud, liquid rumble [erupts] from his innards,” causing this Super Elf-Human, Dragon Rider, and Defender of the Varden “[to bolt] upright, groping for his staff.

Poor Eragon. It must be hard to live with such disembodied parts that he is startled by their behavior.

Nevertheless, The Stomach demands sustenance and Eragon must provide. This leads him to his first dilemma of the chapter: does he “drain the energy from the plants and insects around the camp” or does he hunt?

This is no small choice for Eragon. The first option is unsuitable because it sterilizes the area he draws energy from and does nothing to ease The Stomach’s complaints.

Yes, Our Hero’s comfort is of equal weight to death on scales from a couple of animals to everything from animals, to plants, to microorganisms.

The second option is unsuitable because Eragon’s telepathy allowed—and presumably still allows—him to “[share] the thoughts and desires of numerous animals.” Except, apparently, for insects. Despite a bee giving him the will to live just last chapter. On the other hand, if he doesn’t choose between these two unsuitable options then he puts himself at risk of capture by the Empire.

Although I still can’t believe Eragon actually weighed The Stomach’s needs as he pondered his dilemma—after all, it would make far more sense to base a decision on which choice would cause the least environmental harm—this type of choice is an excellent one for any author to introduce to a character for a couple of reasons.

First, it’s a hero’s choice: do I do what I believe is necessary or do I do what I believe is right. If Eragon does what he believes is necessary then he will decide to kill in order to preserve his own health and freedom. The cost will be a part of his soul because he is violating deeply held beliefs. If Eragon does what he believes is right then he will neither hunt nor drain the energy. The cost may be capture or just that he operates at a sever disadvantage.

Second, it’s a very flexible choice. The author can either collapse it into a small, relatively inconsequential part of the story or expand it into a plot point that changes the course of the story entirely. The author might even make the choice look inconsequential, but allow it to have ramifications later on that shape the story.

However the author uses this choice plot-wise, the character’s answer to the hero’s question reveals something about the character to the reader. Therefore, Paolini’s instincts led him in a good direction here. Unfortunately, he did not make full use of the opportunity.

In order to make use of a choice like this one, it’s important to recognize that the choice is only one element of a greater dilemma. The elements of a dilemma are the struggle, the choice, and the resolution. Used well, these elements will not only illuminate character and advance the story, but they will also elicit reader empathy for the character.

Where Paolini fails is that he does not develop this dilemma, leaving the reader unable to empathize with Eragon. Paolini does not show the struggle that precedes the choice to hunt beyond Eragon’s cool overview of the options. Instead, he merely tells the reader that Eragon spends half an hour agonizing over the decision before thinking

Ours is a cruel world and I cannot change how it is made…The elves may be right to avoid the flesh, but at the moment my need is great. I refuse to feel guilty if circumstances drive me to this. It is not a crime to enjoy some bacon or a trout or what have you.

and deciding that he must hunt.

Paolini tells us that Eragon “continued to reassure himself with various arguments, yet disgust at the concept still squirmed within his gut,” but that is really all he gives the reader to work with. We aren’t on this path with Eragon. We aren’t imagining ourselves in his position. We are watching him from the outside.

Nevertheless, I’d argue that Paolini’s decision to deemphasize Eragon’s choice to hunt is still valid. After all, if the author gives equal weight to every choice the character must make and its impact on the character then not only will the book be insanely long, but the truly important choices will be lost in the clutter. However, by choosing to deemphasize the struggle preceding the choice to hunt and the choice itself, Paolini had to pick up slack elsewhere in the dilemma in order to effectively incorporate it into the story. To not do so would reduce an important character-building moment to filler.

A more experience author—after deemphasizing the choice—might then focus on the character’s struggle to act on the choice. The experiences author would take this opportunity to develop the character and root the scene in what has come before. For instance, the author might have the character choose not to use his telepathy because it would offer him an unfair advantage in the hunt. Despite the cost of hunting traditionally, the character would use the bushcraft he spent a lifetime learning to track the animals to their dens and kill them. Or, perhaps, the character would decide that his circumstances were too precarious to risk wasting time and energy on a traditional hunt. That character might use his magic, but he would be fully aware of every moment and have to fight his own self-loathing as much as the animals’ wills to survive in order to kill them. In either case, the character is revealed as much through the struggle as through the choice that preceded it. Furthermore, the reader can engage with the character through this struggle.

Unfortunately, there is no struggle for Eragon.

Eragon simply “[steels] himself” and “[sends] out tendrils from his mind and [probes] the land until he [locates] two large lizards and…a colony of rodents…” Then he kills them swiftly and painlessly with magic, only “[gritting] his teeth” in response to their dying. His only care is to recover the rodent in such a way so as not to wake the others because “it seemed cruel to terrify them with the knowledge that an invisible predator could kill them in their most secret havens.”

Because vanishing one of them is so much better.

And that’s the extent to which Eragon considers those little lives he has taken. Despite his supposed conversion to Friend of All Animals (Except Insects); despite his awareness of what animals think; despite Paolini’s telling us how Eragon agonized over this decision, Eragon is completely unaffected by the deaths of the animals he has just killed. He goes about cleaning them, building an oven, and seasoning them—having to use plants that “released a pleasant smell when he crushed them between his fingers” instead of salt—without ever reflecting on what it is he has just done. Eragon has slipped right back into the role of the efficient hunter, which negates any of the character building that should have happened through his conversion.

Indeed, instead of focusing on the resolution of the choice by allowing Eragon to reflect on killing after acquiring his mind-sharing abilities, Paolini focuses on the mechanics of cooking and eating, telling the reader that

The rodent was ready first, being smaller than the lizards. Lifting it off the top of the makeshift oven, Eragon held the meat in front of his mouth. He grimaced and would have remained locked in the grip of his revulsion, except that he had to continue tending the fire and the lizards. Those two activities distracted him enough that, without thinking, he obeyed the strident command of his hunger and ate.

It’s a good thing Eragon takes orders from The Stomach. Otherwise, I’m not sure he wouldn’t still be sitting by that oven. And we think the book is slow now.

Let’s compare this moment to one in which the protagonist witnesses the death of an animal but has no involvement in it. This excerpt is taken from Gary Paulsen’s, The Island.

When it came it was stunning, so violent and rapid that it made Wil jump. The fish moved forward, away from the weed, and seemed to hover with no effort not more than two inches in front of the turtle’s beak. Still it was not close enough. Still the turtle waited. Then the sunfish moved the last part, the last part of its life, moved perhaps a quarter of an inch closer to the turtle, and the head slammed forward out of the shell, the gaping jaws took the fish in the middle, in the soft part of the belly. The water was full of blood and guts and a froth of scales, was full of the debris of the end of the sunfish’s life, and the fish was stiff and curved in the rigor of death around the head of the turtle, and it was done.

Done.

I have seen the end now, Wil thought. I have seen the end of a thing here. The turtle made certain the fish was positioned right and swallowed it, still twitching, but it was over before that for Wil. It was over when the fish was still two inches from the turtle and safe and moved that next tiny part of an inch and was dead. That’s when it was done. Not when the turtle hit the fish, not when the turtle swallowed the sunfish, but when the fish was two inches away and moved the last part of its life into the curve of death. That’s when it ended for the fish. Perhaps, Wil thought, that’s when it ends for all of us, not when it ends but when it’s still going, getting ready to end.

I last read this book when I was nine and I still remembered this passage clearly enough to find it again. I remembered this passage because of how vivid the struggle was; how clearly it affected Wil; and how Paulsen used it effectively to illustrate a deeper truth about life and death. Not every conflict in a book will serve so many purposes simultaneously, but this one makes for a good illustration in its extremity. This event should have less of an impact on Wil than Eragon’s choice has on him—it does not conflict with Wil’s beliefs or directly involve him—and yet the way Paulsen focuses on it makes the moment far more effective than the one in Paolini’s work.

The key difference is that Paulsen knows which details illustrate the conflict and allow the reader to empathize with the characters involved.

First, Paulsen focuses on the struggle between the turtle and the fish. The language is fast and violent and emphasizes how hard death is. And that’s something every author should remember: death should never be easy. An author may choose to downplay certain deaths for story, character, or audience reasons, but that does not mean the death should be treated lightly. If the author treats death lightly then the story may come off as unrealistic. If a character treats death lightly then zie may come off as psychopathic.

Second, Paulsen allows Wil to reflect on what he has just witnessed. That reflection not only captures the flat numbness one can experience on first witnessing a death, but it also strikes at the heart of the conflict. Wil doesn’t focus on the superficial aspects of the fish’s death; he focuses on an abstraction inspired by it. And Wil is changed by that reflection.

In Eragon’s case, to focus on the heart of the struggle would be to focus on those “thoughts and desires” that he shares with the animals. Are their desires the same as his own? Are their thoughts less than his, justifying his taking of them? We don’t know. We are deprived of Eragon’s true thoughts on the subject. And we are deprived on Paolini’s thoughts as well. Paulsen, through Wil, shared an observation on death. He showed us part of his own humanity. Paolini failed to take the opportunity to share an observation, or even a feeling, about how animals may perceive their own existence. He might preach at the reader through the elves’ speeches, but he’s still hiding behind those sermons. It’s unfortunate because that approach, while it protects the author, gives the moral position the slick feeling of fakeness instead of heartfelt authenticity. This falseness further distances the reader from the characters.

Thus far, Paolini has not effectively used this moral choice due to his apparent inability to focus on the right details when telling a story. However, the ultimately test of the effectiveness of a moral choice is whether or not it changes the characters. Characters, like all living things, must change with their circumstances. Does Eragon change after hunting for the first time since his beliefs changed?

After cooking up the game and choking down the first couple of bites, Eragon is able to eat the meat. Indeed, he enjoys it enough that he thinks,

Perhaps when I return…if I am at Nasuada’s table, or King Orrin’s, and meat is served, perhaps, if I feel like it and it would be rude to refuse, I might have a few bites….I won’t eat the way I used to, but neither shall I be as strict as the elves. Moderation is a wiser policy than zealotry...

Dilemma resolved. That was easy.

Of course, there was never any question for Eragon. His mind was made up before the hunt. After all, “it is not a crime to enjoy bacon or trout or what have you.” And this Paolini’s greatest failure when it comes to using dilemmas to shape how the audience perceives the character. Audiences must see the character change and Eragon hasn’t changed at all. He may have given lip service to vegetarianism but he never actually changed with that decision and therefore this event could not change him back. And that makes this supposedly profound revelation ring false.

****

Part Two of this spork will be posted on Wednesday, November 28.

12 comments

[1]

torylltales
November 28 2016, 13:44:24
Amazing. <3 The depth of discussion here is truly a thing to behold, I can't wait for the next part.


It strikes me that here would be a perfect place to add some details about his culture in terms of practices, superstitions, or beliefs. Basically, Paolini has approached this as though Eragon is an empty shell with only a few shallow glimpses of half-remembered Elvish philosophy and a few recent personal experiences to guide him; no history, no old stories or beliefs from his childhood, no words of wisdom from his uncle or the other elders in his village, or anything like that.

I remember a similar scene in Victor Kelleher's Firedancer, when one of the time-stranded humans (who travelled back in time on a tour shuttle, but fell off and was stranded in the distant pre-H. sapiens past) was fishing with a Neanderthal woman. He catches a fish successfully and pulls it out onto the ground, where he just watches it flop around, not knowing better (this being his first time ever hunting or fishing). The neanderthal woman quickly grabs it and crushes its head with a rock, before angrily lecturing him about his inaction. She apologises to the fish and thanks its spirit for giving them its flesh, and tells him that it is cruel to let it suffer any more than necessary, and killing it swiftly was the best action.

That was a moment of character-building for both characters, as well as a good way of introducing a part of the culture and beliefs of the woman, and really has a lasting impact on the boy throughout the story. It's a powerful moment both intra and interpersonally.

[2]

pipedreamno20
November 28 2016, 15:22:28
What a helpful indepth look at this dilemma and how it can be treated in different ways - some good, some falling flat. Thanks, really looking forward to the next part!

[3]

syntinen_laulu
November 29 2016, 05:12:09
The elves may be right to avoid the flesh, but at the moment my need is great. I refuse to feel guilty if circumstances drive me to this. It is not a crime to enjoy some bacon or a trout or what have you.

That passage is utterly incoherent. "The elves may be right, but they're wrong." "I'm being driven to do this so I don't have to feel guilty, and it isn't a crime anyway if you enjoy it." Paolini is having Eragon make mutually exclusive arguments in a single sentence.

I like the scenes near the end of The Tombs of Atuan where Ged and Tenar have escaped from Atuan and are making their way to the place on the coast where his has left his boat. They haven't much food, and no time to waste hunting or trapping, and Tenar asks Ged if he can catch anything to eat, say a rabbit, by magic. He answers:

"'I could call one by name, and he'd come. But would you catch and skin and broil a rabbit that you'd called to you thus? Perhaps if you were starving. But it would be a breaking of trust, I think'."

By the time they finally get to his boat they're pretty hungry, and:

'She watched him walk, barefoot and with belted cloak, on the black-haired rocks below, seeking something. He came back, darkening the cave as he entered. "Here," he said, holding out a handful of wet, hideous things like purple rocks and orange lips.
"What are they?"
"Mussels, off the rocks. And those two are oysters, even better. Look- like this." With the little dagger from her keyring, which she had lent him up in the mountains, he opened a shell and ate the orange mussel with seawater as its sauce.
"You don't even cook it? You eat it alive!"
She would not look at him while he, shamefaced but undeterred, went on opening and eating the shellfish one by one.'

That has all the moral content that Paolini is trying and failing to put into this chapter, with believable character action and interaction as well. (It wouldn't surprise me if Paolini wasn't on some level trying to emulate Le Guin in this chapter; there's no doubt he stole from her trilogy big-time.)

[4]

theepistler
November 29 2016, 07:47:34
This bit is so completely pointless, and honestly just exposes Eragon as the utter hypocrite he is. "I have deeply held principles and shit! Eh, it's too inconvenient to stick to them at this particular moment. *eats meat*" Not to mention that it also renders all the pro-vegan sermonising in the last book utterly pointless. Eragon has some Big Important Revelation that life is sacred and shit, and the moment it becomes too inconvenient for the brat he just rationalises it away. Like he does with everything else that might potentially lead to actual character development or exploration of morality and whatnot. And then it's never mentioned again!
Then, to cap it off, he spends good portions (no pun intended) of the next book stuffing his face with meat at every opportunity. What the actual fuck was the point of all that?

Something very similar happens in the chapter where Eragon murders a prisoner in cold blood. "Life is sacred... buuuut letting this guy live would be too inconvenient so... *neck snap*"

Nothing in this series, not even human lives, is ever more important than the convenience of the "heroes". It's disgusting.

[4A]

minionnumber2
November 29 2016, 09:17:58
They say that stories are a good reflection of the author's morality whether they intend it or not.

[4A1]

theepistler
November 29 2016, 19:06:38
Yeah, we expose a lot of ourselves in what we write, usually without meaning to. It wasn't until years later that I realised one of my main protagonist's disinterest and general discomfort with sex was due to me unconsciously projecting my own asexuality onto him.

Now, I'm probably reaching/wildly speculating here, but from Paolini's own writing the vibe I get is a consistent attitude of "I am the center of the universe and more special/deserving than other people, and I shouldn't have to work hard to get what I want."

[5]

Anonymous
November 29 2016, 20:42:31
To be honest, if Ergy actually gave a shit about life, this could have been a very interesting chapter. Or if he was just unwilling to kill humans (up until Nar Gargle showed Ergs his mind, Urgals were fair game), this could have been a point where he fully accepts he HAS to kill in order to live.

Just half a thought.

[5A]

theepistler
November 30 2016, 22:53:05
Yeah, that would have been way better. But he barely considers any alternatives at all. Well geez, Ergy - you could always just go hungry. Why is missing a meal this big of a deal? It's just hunger, you nancy.

Actually, come to that, treating hunger as a huge deal is a very first world sort of attitude to have. People from impoverished backgrounds, like Eragon supposedly is, would be pretty used to dealing with hunger and going without food. Instead he acts like a modern day teenager who couldn't possibly imagine having to live without easy access to a MacDonald's joint whenever he's away from home.

In fact, Eragon deciding he'd rather go hungry than hurt animals and then slog his way across the plains exhausted and starving would both show how principled he is, and also make him look tough. Instead he's portrayed as both insincere and wussy.

[6]

Anonymous
November 30 2016, 07:21:32
In which timezone are you?

[7]

predak123
December 1 2016, 04:01:29
Very nice! Loved your analysis and looking forward to the next parts.

[8]

zelaznamaska
December 7 2016, 02:22:27
He doesn't consider the fact that he should find food for Sloan, and not just for his greedy stomach that was fed several hours ago, does he? Sloan's hunger could be another argument in the dilemma "to hunt or not to hunt" and another way to link it with the dilemma what to do with Sloan, apart from the one you mentioned in the second part of your sporking.

[8A]

maegwin_of_hern
January 2 2017, 23:49:17
I was wondering about that, too. Eragon doesn't even consider his prisoner's vital needs.


Original repost:


epistler posting in as_sporkive, Sep. 17th, 2019, 10:10 PM

Originally posted by hidden_urchin