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The Power That Preserves, Chapter 12: Amanibhava

 
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PostPosted: Mon Sep 08, 2003 1:01 pm    Post subject: The Power That Preserves, Chapter 12: Amanibhava Reply with quote

Chapter 12 is very much a transition point for the story.
Lost and wounded, Covenant pulls himself to his feet on a horribly fractured ankle. Poor Lena lies nearby, murdered by Pietten. The weight of the Land and his personal guilt was overwhelming:
Quote:
Behind him, Lena lay slain in her own blood, with a wooden spike through her belly. Elena was buried somewhere in the bowels of Melenkurion Skyweir, dead in her private apocalypse because of his manipulations and his failures. She had never even existed. Ranyhyn had been starved and slaughtered. Bannor and Foamfollower might be dead or in despair. Pietten and Hile Troy and Trell and Triock were all his fault. None of them had ever existed. His pain did not exist. Nothing mattered except the one absolute question.
He moaned deep in his throat, "Hate?"

He was alone wandering throught the frigid cold of an unnatural winter.
He marched despite the pain and icy wind, falling and climbing back to his feet with only a spear to maintain himself. Terrible dreams and harrowing pain were his only companions. He would continue his journey going in circles until he fell finding a bit of amanibhavam. It seemed to infuse or unlock some sort of power keeping him alive.
Perhaps by luck or maybe some subtle manipulation, Covenant finds himself at the margins of the Morinmoss and in the capable hands of an Unfettered One. Struck by both madness and exhaustion, he sought to defend himself and his ring.

This chapter has always made my ankle hurt! It is rather short, acting as a slow transition between Covenant and Revelstone but conveys some strong emotions.
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PostPosted: Mon Sep 08, 2003 2:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh UGH!! This chapter makes me wince every time I read it. Covenant walking on that shattered ankle. Makes me queezy every time.

The best part is when the Healer comes upon him:

Quote:
"Yes I see--for this reason the Forest called me from my old repose. Injured--cold ill. And he has eaten amanibhavam. Ah, mercy. How the world intrudes, when even Morinmoss bestirs itself for such things as this. Well, the grass has kept life in him, whatever its penalty. But I mislike the look of his thoughts. He will be a sore trial to me"

(snip)

"Mercy," she mumbled on herself, "mercy, indeed. Cold-ill and broken-minded. I left such work. Where will I find the strength for it?" Then her deft fingers bared his left hand, and she gasped. "Melenkurion! White gold? Ah, by the Seven! How has such a burden come to me?"


I loved how the spiders wrapped him all up like a mummy too. And we know that it was Caer-Cavaral that called her to him. Awesome Smile
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PostPosted: Mon Sep 08, 2003 2:27 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Mercy
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PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 7:57 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

This chapter and this particular moment seems to exemplify how Covenantís best intentions end with disastrous results. In the proceeding chapters we applaud his actions. For nearly the entire series to this point, the reader longs for Covenant to fulfill the expectation that he will become the unquestioned hero he is destined to be. Though he for the first time actively begins to take the Landís fate upon his shoulders, his leadership has apparently led to a ruinous end for his companions and for himself. This was a particularly difficult part of the story for me to read. I agree that next to biting into a bun with a razor blade in it, the shattered ankle made me wince.
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PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 8:31 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Welcome, clearfrontier!! Smile I don't think many first posts are in Dissecting, so you distinguish yourself already.

btw, I just bumped a couple comic book threads in the General Dicussion forum for you. It's been a while since we discssed that kinda stuff. Smile
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PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 8:51 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hail clearfrontier! Be welcome and true Smile

and oh...that razor blade!! Sad
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...for then I could fly away and be at rest. Sweet rest, Mom. We all love and miss you.

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PostPosted: Sun Sep 14, 2003 4:19 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:
Dreams roiled his unconsciousness, giving him no consolation. Again and again, he relived the double-fisted blow with which he had stabbed Pietten. But now he dealt that fierce blow at other hearts - Llaura, Manethrall Rue, Elena, Joan, the woman who has been killed protecting him at the battle of Soaring Woodhelven - why had he never asked anyone her name? In dreams he slew them all. They lay around him with gleams of light shining keenly out of their wounds like notes in an alien melody. The song tugged at him, urged - but before he could hear it, another figure hove across his vision, listing like a crippled frigate. The man was dressed in misery and violence. He had blood on his hands and the love of murder in his eyes, but Covenant could not make out his face. Again he raised the knife, again he drove it with all his might into that vulnerable breast. Only then did he see that the man was himself.


-----------------

I was just starting to like Covenant at this point, and then he went into crazy mode again. Sheesh. Rolling Eyes Laughing

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PostPosted: Fri Jun 24, 2016 10:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Covenant being as alone in the Land as he is on our Earth is at first an extremely depressing picture for me to imagine, especially following chapters which contain Lena's murder and Trell's despair. However, I start to feel an odd comfort once TC gets enfolded in the warm embrace of Morinmoss Forest.

Quote:
As he wended through the marge of the forest, he felt an unexpected dimunition of the cold. Daylight was dying out of the ashen sky behind him and ahead lay nothing but the brooding bloom of the forest depths. Yet the winter seemed to ease rather than sharpen with the coming of night. Shambling onward, he soon discovered that the snow thinned as he moved deeper among the trees. In a few places, he even saw living leaves. They clung grimly to the branches, and the trees in turn clung to each other, interwove their branches and leaned on each other's shoulders like staunch, broad, black-wounded comrades holding themselves erect together. Through the thinning snow, animal tracks made light whorls that dizzied him when he tried to follow them. And the air grew warmer.

Gradually, a dim light spread around him. For a time, he did not notice it to wonder what it was; he walked like a ruin along the alien spangle, and did not see the pale ghost-light expanding. But than a wet strand of moss struck his face, and he jerked into awareness of his surroundings.

The tree trunks were glowing faintly, like moonlight mystically translated out of the blind sky into the forest. They huddled around him in stands and stretches and avenues of gossamer illumination; they were poised on all sides like white eyes, watching him. And through their branches hung draped, dangled curtains and hawsers of moist black moss.

Then in his madness, fear came upon him like a shout of ancient forestial rage, springing from the unavenged slaughter of the trees; and he turned to flee. Wailing lornly, he slapped the moss away from him and tried to run. But his ankle buckled under him at every stride. And the music held him. Its former allure became a command, swinging him against his will so that his panic itself, his very flight, drove him deeper among the trees and the moss and the light. He had lost all possession of himself. The strength of the grass capered in him like poison; the gleams danced through their blue-green intervals, guiding him. He fled like the hunted, battering and recoiling against trunks, tangling himself in moss, tearing his hair in fear. Animals scampered out of his wailing path, and his ears echoed to the desolate cries of owls.

He was soon exhausted. His flesh could not bear any more. As his wailing turned to frenzy in his throat, a large hairy moth the size of a cormorant suddenly fluttered out of the branches, veered erratically, and crashed into him. The impact knocked him to the ground in a pile of useless limbs. For a moment, he thrashed weakly. But he could not regain his breath, steady himself, rise. After a brief struggle, he collapsed on the warm turf and abandoned himself to the forest.


Thomas Covenant getting knocked over by a moth, albeit a large moth, strikes me as kind of funny (you wouldn't think even a large moth would have much weight to it, would you?). Laughing Anyway, re-reading this made me think the moth was deliberately sent to intercept him. Exclamation
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