Tag / saphira

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon: Final Thoughts

Sometimes, after watching a bad movie or reading a bad book, I like to think about what could improve it. If there was one thing I would change about the movie The Warriors, for example, I would have cast younger actors. Not even necessarily better actors, but younger.

As I read through Eragon, I wondered what might the the one thing I that could have been done differently to improve the book. Most of my complaints about the book were related to its characters. The majority of the cast just wasn’t interesting or sympathetic. But saying “make the characters suck less” is much too broad of a generalization. “Give Eragon a personality” is better, but I came upon something truly befitting the spirit of Eragon.

A formulaic story needs some formulaic improvement. As it stands, Eragon isn’t a well-developed character; he’s just reaction. To give him some depth and make him more relatable, my suggestion would have Eragon go through the Kubler-Ross Stages of Grief. Eragon loses so much over the course of the book: his uncle, his home, and his mentor.

When Garrow and Brom are killed, Eragon cries a lot and tries to honor the deceased. Then he adds their names to the list of reasons to kill the Ra’zac. And…that’s kind of it.

But if you’ve ever lost someone that you care about, you know the grief doesn’t just go away. It’s surreal, there’s a pain you can’t describe, and it never really goes away. Not totally.

Or, as Lemony Snicket put it so perfectly:

It is useless for me to describe to you how terrible Violet, Klaus, and even Sunny felt in the time that followed. If you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels, and if you haven’t, you cannot possibly imagine it.

It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.

We’ll start off with denial. To summarize, denial is when you can’t believe that the loss really happened. Suddenly your world is flipped upside down.

Denial can be over in hours; it can last for days. Looking back through the book, it seems like Eragon skips this stage entirely. In fairness, when Garrow and Brom die, there is a sense of urgency, and he can’t take the time to fully process what’s happened. And while we see him cry, we don’t see him shocked, or numb.

But let us see him turn ahead, thinking he saw Brom out of the corner of his eye. Let him believe, however falsely, that someday he can return to his home village a hero. Then the true weight of his loss becomes apparent and tangible to the reader.

Next in the Kubler-Ross stages of grief is Anger. Anger in grief can be directed at anyone and anything: yourself, your family, a co-worker, God. Since Eragon’s first instinct is to vow revenge on the Ra’zac who killed Garrow and Brom, he’s kind of got this one in the bag. But we could do more with it.

What if, instead of just vowing revenge, Eragon turns his anger towards Saphira? After all, without her, Garrow wouldn’t have been killed. Maybe if she hadn’t been so scared of the Ra’zac and stayed to fight them, he would still be alive. Or if she’d tried to fight them after she and Eragon were captured, instead of giving in? These are questions that Eragon will never know the answer to. He lashes out at his dragon, his closest companion who has done everything in her power to protect him. He blames her for their deaths, wants to send her away. But their minds are connected forever, all the while Saphira tries to remain close to Eragon, no matter how he claims he hates her. That is something that I would like to read.

Next, we move on to bargaining. Bargaining might be easier to understand from the perspective of someone who’s dying, or someone whose loved one is in the process of dying. “God, if you let me get out of this one, if you let me live until Christmas, if you give me a few more years, I’ll do whatever you want.” After a loss, bargaining can manifest itself in regrets and “if onlys”. If only I had prayed harder, if only I’d really given the doctors a piece of my mind, if only my actual dragon hadn’t run away or surrendered so quickly. This could easily feed into the hypothetical anger Eragon might have had towards Saphira nicely.

After bargaining is depression. This is probably what most people think of when they hear the word “grief”. Depression is sadness, but it also runs deeper than that. Depression is a feeling of hopelessness, where every day can be a struggle to get out of bed. It steals away your energy and replaces it with feelings of worthlessness. People tell you to keep your chin up, but you can’t see a way out.

Depression sucks, and it’s hard to shake. It’s also not often considered socially acceptable for men to express depression and sadness. In fact, it’s not uncommon for depression to manifest in men as anger, because anger is an “acceptable” emotion for men to display.

This would make adventuring pure hell. Eragon accepts that he and Saphira couldn’t do anything to save Garrow and Brom, and understand that there is nothing that can bring them back. He is apologetic for his anger at Saphira. But he begins to see himself as helpless. After all, he’s the first new Dragon Rider in decades, and yet he can’t protect a small village. Should he continue this journey, or just cut his losses and go somewhere no one can find him, away from the Empire? Every day is a struggle to continue towards the Varden. Because, surely, they’ll see how weak he is, that Saphira should have chosen someone else to be her Rider. He keeps these feelings of inadequacy quiet, but Saphira knows how they trouble him. Despite all the times he’s lashed out at her, she stands by him, reassuring him that she made the right choice, offering him the support he needs to get through this dark time.

As we come to the book’s climax, Eragon also begins to reach the stage of acceptance. Acceptance doesn’t mean that Eragon’s “okay” with his losses or has somehow overcome the pain of them. It means he acknowledges that Garrow, Brom, and that his life will have to go on without them. As he battles with the Varden against the Urgals, Eragon thanks Brom for his training and guidance, without which he wouldn’t have made it far. He can think of his home, knowing he can never truly return, but also knowing that when he fights against the Empire, he is fighting for Carvahall. When the battle is over, he can look back at all the things he’s learned, and will grow from it. After contact with Oromis, who will become Eragon’s next teacher, he is able to re-emerge from his grief know that there is a future.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I would improve Eragon.

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 52-53: Tronjheim

Two states and one long hiatus later, I’m back. And so is Eragon.

Fasten your seat belts, kids, this is gonna be a long one.

Well, chapter 53, “Ajihad”, is going to be a long one. The chapter before it, “The Glory of Tronjheim” is much shorter, and a lot less interesting.

From the start of chapter 52, I thought it was going to be a bit more standard for the book. After all, it starts with Eragon’s ham-fisted and direct characterization of Murtagh while they’re stuck in a cell in Tronjheim together. Then, he goes to examine a lantern nearby. The description of the lamp takes up an entire paragraph.

I should have known then. How could I not see it?

This is not a chapter with plot. It is ten pages of description as Eragon goes from one part of the city to another.

Credit where it’s due:  I’ve given Paolini a lot of shit here, but descriptions are one thing he does well. My favorite scenes in this book are Eragon and Saphira flying, or swimming in Leona Lake. Those moments are what make me keep reading this, because they capture something magical and beautiful.

There are authors who can evoke the setting in such a way that it becomes another character. Norman Maclean’s A River Runs Through It does this magnificently and Terry Pratchett’s Ankh-Morpork is familiar to me as any city I’ve walked through in real life.

I don’t think Paolini is quite at that level yet, but I’m honestly envious of his talent for description. It’s one thing that I’m always struggling to improve in my own writing.

Hey, Paolini, wanna team up? I’ll bring the characters, you bring the setting, and together we’ll make something halfway decent!

The real problem I have with this chapter is that it just kind of drags on. Nothing happens, other than “Eragon went here and saw a pretty thing. Then he went here and saw another pretty thing.”

I’m sure there’s someone who really liked this chapter for that reason. But that wasn’t me.

The next chapter, though, is much more interesting. Eragon meets Ajihad, the leader of the Varden, and our old friend “intense” makes a comeback!

He bore himself with great dignity, exuding an intense, commanding air.

Still not great writing, but at least “intense” makes more sense here.

Then Ajihad tells Eragon something truly baffling about the bald man who went through Eragon’s memories. He has a twin brother, equally bald and magical. But the truly bewildering part is that neither of the twins have names.

How the hell do they not have names? How hard is it to give someone a name? “From now on you’re George and you’re Elliot? You like those names? Cool.” See? It’s that easy. The Varden are literally denying these mages an identity. Treating them as non-persons is just asking them to betray you.

This all gets hand-waved away, though, because Ajihad discovers Murtagh’s identity by recognizing…Morzan’s voice. Apparently Murtagh and Morzan sound similar.

Much as I want to call bullshit on the “hereditary voice tone”, I can’t, because I’m told that I have the same voice as my mom. So I’ll give this one a pass.

Anyway, Murtagh refuses to let the Twins see into his mind, while he and Ajihad toss the word “probe” around a few more times, just to make everyone uncomfortable.

And Murtagh is so, so stupid. He thinks that everyone in the Varden will treat him like an outcast if they know who he is, which is entirely possible. Or–and stay with me here, Murtagh–he could just let the Twins examine him. Not only would he have information about Galby’s court that the Varden could use, they would see that he hates Galby.

Of course, no one can see this blatantly obvious solution, so Murtagh is imprisoned indefinitely. I know conflict is supposed to propel story, but this just seems so…unnecessary.

Eragon and Ajihad go one to discuss Eragon’s adventures thus far, and Eragon tells him about fighting and presumably killing the Shade Durza. But whenever I read a description of Durza, with his white face and red hair, he just sounds like Ronald McDonald to me. I guess clowns can be scary, but a fast food mascot hardly strikes fear into my heart.

Ajihad also fills Eragon in on just how Saphira’s egg wound up in the Spine, where our hero found it. This is important information and answers a lot of questions from the beginning of the book, and normally I like backstory. What I do not like, however, is a single character droning on for pages without any pause from the dialogue.

The tl;dr version is this: Brom stole Saphira’s egg, which will only hatch when the right person touches it. The egg is ferried between the Varden and the Elves, and the kids of each group would gather ’round and touch it, and see if it hatched. If it did, Brom and the Elves would share the responsibility of training the new Rider. Arya was attacked by Durza while transporting the egg, and magically teleported it to the Spine, where Eragon found it.

A few things here.

First of all, a species that can only reproduce by the right person touching its eggs might be the worst means of keeping a species alive. No wonder the dragons died out. Galby didn’t kill them all, their poor breeding techniques did!

Secondly, Arya is a princess, because of course she is. Why is she doing the dirty work of moving the egg from place to place? Doesn’t she have princessy things to do?

And what the hell was Brom doing in Carvahall in the first place? Eragon’s village is literally on the other side of the world from both the Varden and the Elven homeland. He couldn’t have known that the egg would disappear and then reappear in the Spine. Logically, he should have been with the Varden the whole time.

I’m not sure these questions are ever actually answered. At least, not as far as I’ve read in the series. At some point it’s revealed that Eragon is actually Brom’s son, so it’s possible Brom went to Carvahall to keep an eye on him. If I wanted to confirm this, though, I’d probably have to finish reading the series, but I have good books to read instead.

After the history lesson, Ajihad also tells Eragon some of the goings-on at the Varden, including encrypted notes discussing a place called Ithrö Zhâda.

Ithrö Zhâda.

After I read that, I had to put the book down and weep for the flagrant abuse of accent marks, circumflexes, and diaereses spread throughout this book.

I strongly suspect Paolini didn’t give a flying fuck as to how things actually sounded and just put special characters all over the place because they looked cool.

Though, to be fair, I would’ve done the same thing as a fifteen-year-old novelist.

But I digress. The notes and other evidence points to the Varden having a traitor in their midst. Well, gee, I wonder who that could be. The only other people we’ve met so far who don’t have names and the Varden doesn’t treat like human beings? And if the answer “The Twins” really isn’t that obvious, why doesn’t Ajihad just have the Twins scan everyone and see if they’re the traitors?

I’m beginning to think Ajihad is not such a great leader.

I’ll leave you with one last cringey quote from Eragon, which came straight out of nowhere:

I’ll fight when needed, revel when there’s occasion, mourn when there is grief, and die if my time comes…but I won’t let anyone use me against my will.

 

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 50-51: Oh, The Angst

I’ve recently finished reading Fool Moon by Jim Butcher, the second novel in The Dresden Files. It was a fun read, with likable protagonists and lots of action. There was one thing that drove me crazy about it, though: every chapter had to end on a cliffhanger. I understand why authors do this, and I’ve done it in my own writing, but when it happens every chapter, it gets a little tiring, not to mention formulaic. You can predict how each chapter is going to go: Harry is in trouble, gets himself out of trouble, winds up in worse trouble. Repeat as necessary.

Again, I understand the benefits of doing this, but it begins to lose impact the more it happens. This is why when a chapter ends with Eragon passing out and getting himself captured for the twelfth time, I really don’t care.

Of course, this may be because I don’t care about the character himself, because he’s dumb.

Murtagh revealing that he’s the son of Morzan is actually a pretty good cliffhanger, though. We’re left waiting for the emotional fallout, rather than waiting to see if Eragon gets rescued again. (Spoiler: he does. He always does.) But this new inforation is the real obstacle to their friendship. Or, rather, the friendship we’re told they have, because whenever we see them talking, they’re usually arguing.

As expected, there’s a lot of a shock and sudden distrust. Saphira and Eragon are immediately defensive and wary. Saphira doesn’t even want to leave Eragon’s side, afraid that Murtagh will attack him. Eragon doesn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, which I might yell at him about, except that it makes sense for his character. At this point, he’s still only sixteen, and he’s never been a font of wisdom. Even Saphira, who I’ve critiqued for maybe being just a little too wise, is concerned. She’s still a young dragon, and she’s finally acting her age, too. That, and she has plenty of reason to hate the son of Morzan.

Fortunately, Saphira does manage to have some common sense and points out that if Murtagh really wanted to hurt Eragon, he would have done so already. Murtagh’s parentage is a rather distressing subject for him, and has said more than once that he never asked to be born. Eragon treats Murtagh rather coldly, even after Saphira talks sense into him. Instead of coming across as cautious, or savvy, it makes Eragon look more like a jerk than ever.

But that’s only for a few pages. Soon enough, the army of Urgals are on top of them. The trio only has a few more hours to get Arya the antidote she needs, so the pressure is on. It’s actually a pretty exciting chapter, especially when Saphira starts fighting the Urgals. She can’t breathe fire yet, but her ferocity is really impressive, even when it seems they’re hopelessly outnumbered.

There was also a scene that I related to a little too well. Eragon believes that he’s found the entrance to the Varden, but the door won’t open. He quickly realizes he’s on the wrong side of the lake. I might make fun of this, except I have no sense of direction. At all. This is totally something I would do.

Near the end of the chapter, Eragon is knocked into the river, and he, Murtagh,  Arya and Saphira are rescued by two members of the Varden. The scene is a little hard to understand and visualize, but it’s one of the rare cases where a confusing action scene actually works. It helps accentuate the chaos of the battle and the rescue, and the characters’ own confusion.

In the next chapter, Eragon, et. al. are taken inside the mountain to be questioned. It’s made clear early on that the Varden are dangerous, not just a rag-tag bunch of lovable scrappers. Throughout the series, there’s supposed to be some ambiguity as to whether the Varden are a group of rebels fighting for a just cause, or terrorists fighting the rightful ruler of the land. And while the leaders do morally questionable things (*cough* Elva *cough*), on the whole, you’re supposed to cheer for them, because they are soundly the good guys. This is one of the few times when we see that there is a darker side to them.

Eragon and Murtagh are questioned by a magician who is using magic to probe into their minds. Isn’t this…a little unnecessary? This guy is obviously high level, and “Zone of Truth” is only a second-level spell. Considering that you can make just about anything happen with the right words and phrasing in the Ancient Language, there had to be an easier way to form a spell that would have Eragon and Murtagh tell the truth, without breaking into their heads.

It backfires on him anyway, because Murtagh is able to block the man from entering his mind, and with Saphira’s help, Eragon is able to hide some of his memories as well. And while Eragon is a jerk on many levels, he at least doesn’t reveal the secret of Murtagh’s parentage. Good on you, Eragon.

As for the magician himself, who literally doesn’t have a name, could it be any more obvious that he’s evil?

‘Now, remove the defenses from around your mind [. . .] If you try to hide anything from me, I will take what I want by force…which would drive you mad. If you don’t submit, your companion will be killed.’ [. . .]

‘You’d better not harm him, Egraz Carn, else the king will have words for you.’

The bald man looked at him irritably, then faced Eragon with a small smile. ‘Only if he resists.’ [. . .]

He paid keen attention to so many things Eragon considered irrelevant, such as his mother, Selena, and seemed to linger on purpose so as to prolong the suffering.

So when he and his twin betray the Varden in the next book, absolutely no one is surprised. The Varden really needs to screen their mages better.

Even so, this chapter made me remember why I liked Murtagh so much. He’s a total badass. He refused to allow the mage to pick his brain, and shows impressive mental strength. He’s able to fight off the mage’s attack until another member of the Varden commands Magey to stop.

Most of the rest of the chapter is Murtagh giving Eragon–and the readers–his history. While I’m not a big fan of information dumps, it works here, because he’s also answering the questions the readers want to know. I’ll also give Paolini props for giving us the full story, instead of just handwaving plot holes with, “that’s a story for another time”.

It soon becomes clear that Murtagh’s parentage is a distressing subject for him. Morzan was an abusive alcoholic, and Murtagh’s mother was trapped in the relationship, doing his bidding.

Now this is one of the moments where I can see how I’ve changed. I’ve always been the girl going, “I’m a strong independent woman who don’t need no man!” and, in high school, really hated Murtagh’s mom. I thought she was so weak, staying with an abusive man for years, when she should have just walked away. Why didn’t she just up and leave?

Now I’m older, and I understand things better. I didn’t know then that leaving an abusive relationship is incredibly hard and frightening. Even the strongest person would have a difficult time with that. Even moreso when your abuser is capable of riding dragons and using magic and can kill you at fifty paces.

All that said, there are still some issues with this. Murtagh was raised in Galby’s palace, and only escaped a few months ago. Apart from Brom, he’s the most worldly character in this book. He’s the dark and brooding one, the one with survival skills. While he was trained to fight in the palace, so his swordsmanship makes sense, but the rest? I’m not buying it.

He only met Galby a few times, and tells Eragon about one of their meetings with some of the most awkward phrasing.

His words were entrancing, like a snake whispering gilded lies into my ears. A more convincing and frightening man I’ve never heard. [. . .] For a long time he was silent, but then he extended his hand and asked, “Will you, O son of my friend? serve me as I labor to bring about this paradise?” [. . .] the dream he had painted was too compelling, too seductive to ignore. Ardor for this mission filled me, and I fervently pledged myself to him.

Paolini, listen up. Use purple prose, or use beige prose, I don’t care. But stop switching between the two with no rhyme or reason, especially when Murtagh’s never spoken like that before.

He goes on to talk about how he came to realize that Galby was evil and insane, and that he decided to escape. Of course, he does this with some of the most awkwardly written dialogue in the book so far.

As soon as I was free of his presence, I and my faithful servant, Tornac, made ready for flight. We left that very night, but somehow Galbatorix anticipated my actions, for there were soldiers waiting for us outside the gates. Ah, my sword was bloody, flashing in the lantern glow.

Ugh.

Murtagh explains that he started following the Ra’zac in the hopes that they could lead him to a dragon, which begs the question: Why?

He wants to be free from Galby and his father’s shadow, so why does he follow the king’s most trusted servants around? He’s terrified his past will be revealed, but then why align himself with a Dragon Rider? I can only assume it’s so he has a powerful ally should he ever need one, but an easier and much better solution to his predicament is obvious. He could have just disappeared. His birth was a secret, and Algaesia’s a big place. Murtagh could have just changed his name, found a new city, and made a new life for himself.

For that matter, he doesn’t need to be so afraid of what the Varden will do to him if they find out about his heritage. He spent almost his entire life in Galby’s court, and once he shows them that he’s defected, he’d become a valuable resource to them.

I get it. Plot is propelled forward by characters making stupid choices. Murtagh is an important character throughout the series, and becomes Eragon’s foil by the end of the second book. You wouldn’t get that if he’d just disappeared, which would be the sensible option.

I guess what I’m not buying is the whole “Murtagh finds Eragon by following people he shouldn’t have been following if he’s so scared about getting caught” excuse.

I think this is another missed opportunity for character development. Murtagh’s out in the world on his own for the first time. He must be scared, uncertain, and confused. Probably angry, too, feeling betrayed by Galby. There’s an enormous amount of potential to create not just a great character arc, but a great character. Unfortunately, emotions come last while the plot is railroaded forward. Instead of an intriguing character, we’re left with a two-dimensional figure who has a few moments of greatness, but then falls as flat as the rest of the cast.

There is at least one way Murtagh outshines Eragon as a character.

Eragon is Algaesia’s biggest idiotball. Murtagh is its biggest drama queen.

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 48-49: Dithering Without Empathy

I think this chapter was written so we would stop liking Murtagh. And to that effect, it backfired terribly. At least, for me. It starts when he gets called “emotionless”, which is supposed to read like Murtagh’s a cold, bad dude, but he and Eragon both have so little established personality, it doesn’t really distinguish them in any way.

But the real conflict comes when Eragon and Murtagh encounter a group of slavers, and I can’t figure out just why the slavers are here. They’re outside the Empire now, and we haven’t seen any evidence of human life beyond its borders, besides our heroes. Why are they searching out here, and who are they going to sell any captured slaves to? Or would they trek them back across the desert? This has to be the most inefficiently run business on the continent.

Eragon and Murtagh dispatch the slavers without much trouble, save one: Torkenbrand. He’s injured and unarmed, and Murtagh kills him before giving him a chance to surrender. No, it’s not exactly a heroic thing to do, but there weren’t a lot of options, either. Torkenbrand had already seen Arya, knew she was an elf, and even if he couldn’t capture them, he would certainly be blabbing about them. Maybe pick up a nice reward from the Empire for information about the people that they clearly want captured.

Eragon, however, doesn’t really understand this, and he’s pissed that Murtagh killed Torkenbrand before giving him the chance to surrender. Which also begs the question, what would they have done with him, had he surrendered? Keep him as a prisoner while they ride to the Varden? Or send him running off, so he can tell everyone about Arya?

This leads into the cringiest dialogue I’ve read in awhile.

‘I’m only trying to stay alive,’ stated Murtagh. ‘No stranger’s life is more important than my own.

‘But you can’t indulge in wanton violence. Where is your empathy?’ Eragon growled, pointing at the head.

‘Empathy? Empathy? What empathy can I afford my enemies? Shall I dither about whether to defend myself because it will cause someone pain?’

Yes, please continue this ham-fisted dialogue that just really drives home how morally superior Eragon is to Murtagh.

To Eragon, the world is black and white. You are good, or you are evil. There’s no in-between. But he’s also a Dragon Rider, and his life is going to be filled with hard decisions, where there isn’t a clear right or wrong answer. It would have been interesting to use this moment to show him grappling with morality, to try to see that Murtagh could be a killer, and also his friend, or to wonder if the end truly justifies the means. And he does, a little bit, when he tells Saphira he’s confused. But by the time morning comes around, he decides that killing Torkenbrand was murder, and that Murtagh was in the wrong.

As the serious progresses, Eragon does go on to do some rather morally dubious things. In Brisingr, he and Roran rescue Sloan (hey, remember Sloan?) from the Ra’zac, who have tortured him to the point where he lost his eyes. However, Eragon decides that this isn’t punishment enough for the butcher, as he betrayed Carvahall to the Ra’zac. So, naturally, Eragon decides to tell the only person Sloan cares about, his daughter, that her father was killed. He then leaves Sloan in the desert, after essentially having cursed him to never be allowed to contact his daughter again.

Eragon does this because he can’t bring himself to kill Sloan while he’s so helpless, even though he acknowledges that killing him would be the merciful thing to do. Instead, Eragon makes Sloan’s life infinitely more difficult and painful. You know, after he’s already been tortured for months.

Our hero, everyone.

Maybe I shouldn’t be judging Eragon’s actions two books from now, or point out his hypocrisy for things that he hasn’t done yet.

Too bad. I did it anyway.

At last Saphira understands moral ambiguity, and discusses it with Eragon as the next chapter opens.

‘It was a hasty deed and ill considered, but Murtagh tried to do the right thing. The men who buy and sell other humans deserve every misfortune that befalls them. If we weren’t committed to helping Arya, I would hunt down every slaver and tear them apart!’

‘Yes,’ said Eragon miserably, ‘but Torkenbrand was helpless. He couldn’t shield himself or run. A moment more and he probably would have surrendered. Murtagh didn’t give him that chance. If Torkenbrand had at least been able to fight, it wouldn’t have been so bad.’

‘Eragon, even if Torkenbrand had fought, the results would have been the same. You know as well as I do that few can equal you or Murtagh with the blade. Torkenbrand would have still died, though you seem to think that it would have been more honorable in a mismatched duel.’

‘I don’t know what’s right!’ admitted Eragon, distressed. ‘There aren’t any answers that make sense.’

‘Sometimes,’ said Saphira gently, ‘there are no answers. Learn what you can about Murtagh from this. Then forgive him. And if you can’t forgive, at least forget, for he meant you no harm, however rash the act was. Your head is still attached, yes?’

This is my reminder that that the only reason I’ve continued reading this book is Saphira.

Although I’ve been quite critical of the book and Eragon’s character in general, I really like his talk with Saphira. Eragon seems to be learning that things aren’t always as straight forward as they seem, and I love that he’s wrestling with this new lesson. It’s one of the few times in this book so far that I really felt that Eragon does have an inner world. In a few pages, he suddenly had more character development than he’s gotten for the past ten chapters.

I want to see Eragon change and grow more over the course of the novel, as main characters are meant to do. These changes are more obvious in the beginning of the novel, I think, than near the end. I’m happy to see Eragon struggle with ideals, and finally have to deal with a conflict that can’t be solved with swords and sorcery. This is a good step in Eragon’s journey, though I doubt we’ll get many more moments like this until the book ends.

Because the orcs Urgals are coming! The Urgals are coming!

When Eragon flies on Saphira’s back to get a better look at the approaching horde, she ends up flying too high so there’s not enough oxygen for Eragon, and he passes out. Again. At this point, it’s like losing consciousness has become his hobby.

At least the description of their flight and the mountains below them is nice.

The Urgals, it turns out, are some kind of super-breed, called the Kull, which makes them even stronger and deadlier than their regular counterparts. You know, like Uruk-hai, but they’re not Uruk-hai at all, guys. They’re Kull. See? There’s a world of difference.

On one hand, I know that we’re getting close to the climax of the book, and need to up the ante a little bit. We’ve already seen Eragon take on Urgals and lesser swordsmen without too much of a problem, but the sudden appearance of the Kull feels a bit lazy and contrived to me. Putting the obvious Orc/Urgal parallels aside, the approaching army kind of came out of nowhere. The Varden’s location is incredibly well-hidden, and Eragon and Murtagh escaped pursuit by fleeing across the desert. So are the Kull just being sent to the vast mountain range in hopes of getting lucky and finding the Varden, or did they find Eragon’s location? Or really, are they just here because the story demands it?

Though as much shit as I give Eragon, he and Saphira actually come up with an effective plan to deter the Kull. Namely, dropping boulders on them from a distance. Practical, and effective!

They still remained focused on getting Arya to the Varden as quickly as possible, though, and soon it becomes apparent that Murtagh (who still hasn’t left for some reason) is caught between the Kull army, and going to the Varden. He finally reveals why he doesn’t want to go: he’s Morzan’s son, one of the Foresworn that put Galby on the throne.

That was a wham line for me as a kid. I was expecting some dark and angsty backstory, but I hadn’t thought that he’d be related to Morzan at all. It was a genuine surprise, in part because Morzan is mentioned so infrequently compared to Galby. I was also happy that Galby isn’t Morzan’s father, because even this book knew when it was drifting a little too close to Star Wars.

Here’s one thing I’ve noticed about re-reading Eragon: it’s not nearly as fun as the other books I’ve re-read for this blog. In part this is because Eragon is a nincompoop and the prose can be cringey, but it’s also because I know everything that’s going to happen. I know all the twists, and the things that kept the book engaging for me have already been revealed.

Well, we’ve got less than a dozen chapters to go, and I’ve spent too much time explaining the sunk cost fallacy  reading it to stop now.

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 46-47: A Path Revealed

“The Hadarac Desert” is yet another chapter that’s all about traveling, and not a lot happens. The only thing that’s really memorable about it is Saphira’s reaction to the desert.

I feel as though I was made for this desert. It has the space I need, mountains where I could roost, and camouflaged prey that I could spend days hunting. And the warmth! Cold does not disturb me, but this heat makes me feel alive and full of energy.

I love Saphira’s excitement, and how she feels so at home here. Other than that, the details of the travel are rather boring. At one point, it’s noted that they’ve traveled 35 leagues in the desert, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot. It’s a measure of distance, but…does anyone know what a league actually is? Saying they’d gone 120 miles (roughly the equivalent of 35 leagues, thanks Google!) would give the reader a better sense of distance, but “league” is keeping with the language of the setting.

As they’re crossing the desert, Eragon, Saphira, and Murtagh discuss the Ra’zac. Saphira says that if they meet again, “they will find I am not so easily bound with chains.” Which she shouldn’t have been in the first place, because, you know, she’s a dragon.

But you know what really bugs me about the Ra’zac? Avenging Garrow’s by killing the Ra’zac dictated Eragon and Brom’s movement in the beginning of the book. When they’re outplayed, though, they just give up and move on. It isn’t unreasonable, really, but they still don’t kill the Ra’zac until the third book. By that time, Eragon should have a lot more on his mind that hunting down the creatures he should have killed a long time ago.

The next chapter was another one that I was curious to read again. Despite all my gripes about this book, there are still some things that I thought were pretty cool, and I wanted to see how well they hold up years later. In this case, it’s Eragon trying to communicate with the still-unconscious Arya by entering into her mind. They mentally struggle, and it looks like Eragon is going to lose this fight. Even though I’m not a fan of Arya, it’s impressive how powerful she is, even in this weakened state.

Eragon learns that Arya has been poisoned, and put herself in a self-induced coma to keep the poison from killing her within hours. She says that she can only remain in this state for a few more days, however, or she will die without the antidote. I think this is a really cool idea, and I like how Paolini emphasizes that elves are not just humans with pointy ears. This is made even more apparent when Arya allows Eragon to enter her mind.

The elf warily let their thoughts touch, like two wild animals meeting for the first time. A cold shiver ran down Eragon’s side. Her mind was alien. It felt vast and powerful, weighted with memories of uncounted years. Dark thoughts loomed out of sight and touch, artifacts of her race that made him cringe when they brushed his consciousness. Yet through all the sensations shimmered a melody of wild, haunting beauty that embodied her identity.

Arya tells Eragon that the rebel group, the Varden, have the antidote, and that he needs to bring her to them. She then reveals the route he can follow to find them.

A series of vertigo-inducing images suddenly flashed through his mind. He found himself riding along the Beor Mountain range, traveling eastward many leagues. Eragon did his best to remember the route as craggy mountains and hills flashed past. He was heading south now, still following the mountains. Then everything wheeled abruptly, and he entered a narrow, winding valley. It snaked through the mountains to the base of a frothy waterfall that pounded into a deep lake.

Got all that? Good, because I sure didn’t.

That sounds like an amazingly complicated route, never mind that Eragon has never seen any of these places before. I have a hard enough time finding the right place to go on streets that are labelled, in the city that I live in. I can take mind-talk and elven comas, but I don’t buy Eragon being able to remember the whole route, let alone find it.

Even so, Eragon insists that they follow this route and go to the Varden, and Murtagh immediately objects. He gets quite angry at Eragon for even suggesting that they try to get to the Varden, but his rage–and ensuing fight with Eragon–really comes out of nowhere. At first his gripe seems to be that he’s tired of saving Eragon all the time, and I can’t blame him there. Seriously, our protagonist has lost consciousness so many times I’ve stopped counting. But the crux of the issue really is that Murtagh doesn’t want to go to the Varden, because of his dark and mysterious past.

I can tell you the Varden wouldn’t welcome me even if I came bearing the king’s head. Oh, they might greet me nicely enough and let me into their councils, but trust me? Never.

Couple things here.

I’m pretty sure the Varden would be happy if you killed Galby, no matter your birth. And I’m equally sure that if the band of rebels doesn’t trust you, they wouldn’t let you in their secret hide-out, and definitely not into their councils.

Right as Murtagh is about to tell the truth about why he’s wanted by the Empire, he’s conveniently cut off by the arrival of Urgals marching towards them, delaying Murtagh’s reveal for several more chapter.

Anyway, Murtagh and Eragon come to the mind-blowingly simple decision to part ways when Eragon and Saphira get close to the Varden. It really was that easy, guys. It shouldn’t take an army of not-orcs to help you come to that conclusion.

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 29: Unique, Not Useful

After college, I got a job that required a lot of driving in vans that didn’t have CD players or aux cables. Only three radio stations came in clearly: Top 40, Christian rock, and country music. Thus, I began listening to a lot of country music, and generally hating it, but thought it was better than the alternatives. After a few months, I was happily singing along to the songs that I couldn’t stand.

I called this “musical Stockholm Syndrome”.

In the last few chapters, I was worried that I was developing “literary Stockholm Syndrome”, as I was actually enjoying Eragon a lot more than I expected. Would the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia block me from seeing the truth of this book?

Upon reading this chapter, I was glad to find that this was not the case. Maybe those chapters I’d liked so much were genuinely good. Once Brom and Eragon get on the road again, though, I can start looking at the story with a more critical eye. Or, rather, one that pokes and prods at tiny details that just happen to annoy me.

Like, Eragon asking Brom about werecats as they leave Terim. Eragon lies to Brom, saying it was just something that he heard about, not that he met Solembum or Angela. But why lie about that? Wouldn’t it be helpful to just be honest with Brom, who could probably help him sort this out?

On the plus side, Eragon is finally wising up and questioning Brom.

‘There’s a lot going on that I don’t understand. For instance, who are your ‘friends’, and why were you hiding in Carvahall? I trust you with my life–which is why I’m still traveling with you–but I need to know more about who you are and what you are doing. What did you steal in Gil’ead, and what is the tuatha du orothrim that you’re taking me through? I think that after all that’s happened, I deserve an explanation.’

To his credit, Brom answer most of Eragon’s questions about how Saphira’s egg was stolen from Galby, and partially how it came to Eragon. Brom doesn’t tell him everything, but that’s forgivable because Brom himself doesn’t know everything that happened. But he still won’t tell Eragon he was a Dragon Rider, and Eragon still doesn’t have a clue about that. Which, c’mon, he really should at this point.

What does Brom have to gain by withholding that information from him? How is that trying to protect him in the slightest?

Brom and Eragon also discuss his options as a Dragon Rider, and it seems that Eragon will eventually have to decide if he will side with the evil Empire, or the Varden, a group of rebels fighting against Galby. Brom claims that they’re not fighting for land or people, but for control over the first Dragon Rider in a million years. You know, so they can have him on their side to control the land and people.

Are those the only options? For someone whose fate is supposedly in his own hands, they seem like pretty limiting choices. There’s no way for Eragon and Saphira to strike out on their own?

When Eragon relays the story of how Saphira’s egg came to him, we get this.

He told Saphira what he had learned. She was intrigued by Brom’s revelations, but recoiled from the thought of being one of Galbatorix’s possessions. At last she said, ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t stay in Carvahall?’

That’s it, and it’s pretty disappointing. I want to see Saphira’s reaction to this news, I don’t want to be told about it. Considering her terror just at the presence of the Ra’zac in Carvahall, I thought there’d be a lot more from her at this news. If nothing else, at least she switches back to sarcasm pretty quickly.

A little later on, Eragon breaks his wrist at an inconvenient time, when a band of Urgals start chasing after him, Brom, and Saphira. Since Eragon can’t ride his horse, he rides on Saphira to get away from the Urgals. This leaves Brom riding on the ground, and the Urgals are threatening to overtake Brom. Instead of trying to protect Brom or fight the Urgals with magic, or even have Saphira attack them from the sky, he has her land in front of the Urgals.

Not on them. In front of them. To his credit, this does throw the Urgals from their horses, and makes the horses fall and get tangled up in each other. They’ve been significantly slowed, but he still doesn’t have Saphira attack them, or have her fly away.  Instead, he wants to talk to them.

‘We have do do something!’ exclaimed Eragon.

‘What?’

‘Land in front of the Urgals!’

‘Are you crazy?’ demanded Saphira.

Listen to your dragon, kid.

Eragon wants to talk to the Urgals, presumably to get information out of them. When the conversation seems to be going nowhere, Eragon just uses magic to injure them. Not kill them, note. You know, the same thing he could have done from the safety of the air.

Eragon, just because you are unique does not mean that you are useful.

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 26: Literary Stockholm Syndrome

I’m beginning to worry that I have some kind of literary Stockholm Syndrome, because I’ve actually been enjoying Eragon lately.

“The Witch and the Werecat” is another chapter I was looking forward to reading. We’re properly introduced to Angela and the werecat Solembum, both of whom I’ve always rather liked.

Angela is a fictionalized version of Paolini’s sister, and that makes me wonder a couple things. First of all, how much is the real Angela like her fantasy counterpart? There’s no real way I can answer that, so the next question would be, “is it really okay to put someone you know in real life into your novel?”

My immediate thought is to recoil from the idea, but that is largely Twilight‘s fault, considering that waste of paper was originally written as a story for Stephanie Meyers’s sister. Yes, I know Eragon and Twilight are very different books, and Eragon came first, so I’m really not being fair about this. Putting a person you know in real life into a book also brings up the thought of a self-insert main character. I’ve both read and written enough fanfiction to tell you that self-inserts more often than not lead to Mary Sues and bad writing.

So I was a little wary when I came across Angela again, and I have to say that I still legitimately like the character. She’s not some beautiful woman, she’s an old, quirky witch who’s a lot of fun to watch, and I’m glad that she comes back later in the series.

Now, what about the werecat?

Eragon first sees Solembum and assumes he’s a normal cat, and tries to reach out to him with his mind. Solembum responds using the same type of mental communication Eragon shares with Saphira, and Eragon just assumes that he’s talking to her. It was probably done for humorous effect, but he can’t tell the difference between Solembum and his dragon? Really?

The werecat blinked lazily. ‘Knowing is independent of being. I did not know you existed before you bumbled in here and ruined my nap. Yet that doesn’t mean you weren’t real before you woke me.’

…Did Solembum just drop a Schrodinger reference that I would have never understood at age fourteen?

Angela, the herbalist, offers to read Eragon’s real fortune using the knuckle bones of a dragon. This was another scene that I liked a lot as a kid. When I was reading Eldest, I would frequently go back to this scene and try to figure out how all the things Angela tells him would play out.

One of the things Angela starts with is weird to me, though. After casting the bones, she says that Eragon is one of the few that is free to choose his own fate. I honestly would expect the opposite of that Saphira’s egg would have never hatched if he hadn’t touched it–I would call that destiny. I’d think that people more like Jeod and Angela, ordinary people, would have more choice in their lives than Eragon. He has to be a Dragon Rider; there’s no way he can back out.

The bones also promise an epic romance. Yeah, right. It became obvious to me when I first read this book that he would fall in love with Arya, the elf woman in the prologue. In Eldest, he does confess that he loves her, and they are friends, but she often treats Eragon with disdain. I never finished reading the third book in the series, Brisingr, but I didn’t feel a whole lotta love between the two of them there, either.

Plus, Eragon’s confession in Eldest is just cringe-worthy.

The last part of his fortune was that Eragon would be betrayed by someone in his own family. He objects to this right away, saying that his cousin Roran wouldn’t do anything like that.

I make fun of Eragon a lot here for failing to see the obvious, but this was a twist that took me by surprise when it happened near the end of Eldest, and Eragon’s long-lost brother shows up. I really think I should’ve seen that one coming.

Before Eragon leaves the shop, he receives two more pieces of advice from Solembum.

When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree. Then, when all seem lost and your power is insufficient, go to the rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls.

I haven’t read far enough into the series to know what the “Vault of Souls” is, but I’m intrigued, despite myself.

Like in the previous chapter, I think the foreshadowing is handled well here. Some of the things in Eragon’s fortune happen in this book, and there’s enough information to keep me interested in learning how these things will come to pass.

 

 

 

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon Chap. 10-11: Noun of the Noun

If you’re me, you’d call chapter 10 of Eragon, “Wish Fulfillment”. If you’re Christopher Paolini, though, you give this chapter an over-the-top fantasy name, like “Flight of Destiny”. Which is one of those names that sounds cool when you’re fifteen, but as I haven’t been fifteen for a long time, it just makes me roll my eyes. That’s the thing with the writing in this novel. This is an exciting chapter, with the story finally kicking off and Eragon’s first flight on Saphira’s back. The problem is that all too often, the prose falls short, and things just aren’t as exciting or tense as they should be. I should feel Saphira’s terror and anger, as well as Eragon’s own dread. Maybe the problem is that I’m re-reading this and know everything that’s going to happen.

Some twentysomething out there, read this book for the first time and tell me if it’s the prose, or if it’s me.

One other thing that I’m noticing more and more is Paolini’s use of flowery words. I can understand it; he’s writing a story set in a fantasy medieval world, and therefore people are supposed to sound like they stepped out of a Shakespeare play. It doesn’t really work, though, because a lot of the dialogue sounds like it would be heard today. There’s just fewer apostrophes.

When Paolini does try to use a more obscure word in the narration, it just sounds goofy. Saphira is described as appearing before Eragon in “a gout of smoke.” We can assume that the “gout” is like a puff of smoke, but my first thought was of gout the disease. Which, fun fact, was sometimes called the “disease of kings” because it wasn’t terribly uncommon amongst royalty. But that’s neither here nor there.

In all fairness for this chapter, I like that Eragon’s first flight isn’t some beautiful and romantic experience. It’s full of panic, and Saphira’s scales end up injuring his legs quiet badly. If you haven’t noticed by now, I really appreciate it when reality comes into the fantasy elements. Eragon puking as he rides Saphira definitely qualifies as adding that realism. It’s almost enough to make me forgive how Eragon cries a single cliche tear at the end of the chapter.

Moving on, I was a bit confused when I finished reading chapter 11, “The Doom of Innocence”. Despite yet another cringe-worthy title, I was utterly befuddled when I found that I actually liked this chapter. What’s that about? It’s not perfect, and I still have my normal gripes about the writing. There’s still a couple lazy adverbs lying about, and it completely solidified the “Eragon is Star Wars with dragons” idea. Monomyth structure be damned, it’s the exact same story.

In the previous chapter, the arrival of the “strangers” scared Saphira so much that she flew to the neSpine, with Eragon on her back. The next day, he convinces her to go back to his home, only to find the farm destroyed and Garrow badly wounded. You know, just like how Luke returns home after meeting Old Ben and finds his igloo house destroyed and aunt and uncle dead.

But there were a few things that I actually did like about this chapter. First of all, the language of the dialogue and the narration finally match. Look at this conversation Eragon has with Saphira, when he’s trying to convince her to take him home.

“Both of us carry an obligation to Garrow. He has cared for me and, through me, you. Would you ignore that debt? What will be said of us in years to come if we don’t return–that we hid like cowards while my uncle was in danger? I can hear it now, the story of the Rider and his craven dragon! If there will be a flight, let’s face it and not shy away. You are a dragon! Even a Shade would run from you! Yet you crouch in the mountains like a frightened rabbit.”

Maybe it’s still a little over-the-top for me, but I like it much better than Eragon sounding like a teenager who grew up in the modern world.

We finally get to see Saphira’s personality, too. We saw only vague glimpses of Saphira before, and she only had a few lines of dialogue. Even in during her first flight with Eragon, she was so panicked that her actions don’t reflect what she’s normally like. Since Saphira’s the reason I haven’t given this book up yet, I’m glad that we finally get to see more of her.

The last thing in this chapter I liked was the endurance and the pain these characters go through. From what I remember of the first two books in this series, Eragon becomes ridiculously powerful as the series goes on. Here, Eragon’s legs have been rubbed raw from riding Saphira bareback, and Saphira exhausts herself to get Eragon and Garrow to Carvahall, finally landing when she can’t go any further. Eragon drags his uncle into town, legs bleeding all the while, until he passes out. I think Eragon’s determination to save Garrow is admirable. The fact that every step Eragon takes is a struggle makes it even moreso.

It’s the first time I think I’ve really supported Eragon while re-reading this. Because, like I’ve said before, most of the time he’s just a big idiot ball.

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 4-5: How to Write Your Dragon

Remember when I said that the chapters in this book were really uneven, length-wise? Chapter 3 was 16 pages of exposition, backstory, and stupid names. Chapter 4 isn’t quite 3 pages long, and so short it would hardly be worth mentioning, if not for one event in it.

Saphira!

That’s right, the dragon finally hatches, and I remember the reason I started reading this book in the first place. So far I’ve found it cliche and unintentionally humorous, but maybe things will change from here on out. Maybe, with the dragon in the picture, things will get better from here.

Let’s read to find out. Moving on to the next chapter!

What I like about this is that it actually goes into depth about Eragon’s thought-process when it comes to keeping Saphira. He has to take into consideration how he’s going to take care of a dragon, how he could hide it, and even if he should keep it. It takes him a couple pages figuring out his rationalization to keep the dragon, despite all the reasons he shouldn’t. You know, like Galbatorix (I hate typing that name) swooping down to kill him and everyone he loves. So that’s decidedly a “con”. Pros of raising a dragon: IT’S A DRAGON!

If I were Eragon, I would totally risk keeping a dragon. Saphira’s the best part of this book! You have no idea how much I love dragons, guys. If someone offered me a billion dollars or a dragon, I would take the dragon. Especially if it was an intelligent one that you shared a mind-link with! And if a dragon egg hatched under my watch, you can imagine I wouldn’t be calm about it. Which is why I’m a little disappointed that Eragon is so cavalier about this.

Let me put it like this:

Remember when you were a kid, and you loved dinosaurs? You read books about dinosaurs, you drew dinosaur pictures, you collected dinosaur stickers, you loved to hear stories about dinosaurs. You were probably sad that there aren’t any dinosaurs anymore, and wouldn’t it be great if they came back?

Well, suddenly, a baby dinosaur hatched in your bedroom, and it’s the first dinosaur to be born in millennia. What do you do?

You’d probably freak out, for a start. Maybe wonder if it’s a prank, or if the dinosaur is real. After all, there haven’t been any for millions of years. My point being, you would not be calm and rational, and you wouldn’t accept it right away that suddenly you have a long-extinct creature in your bedroom.

Eragon doesn’t for a second doubt that it’s a dragon, that it’s real, and that he was meant to have it. Remember, dragons were supposed to be wiped out by Galby (I refuse to write “Galbatorix” one more time) hundreds of years ago, but Eragon doesn’t have any trouble accepting that this mythical, should-be-extinct creature, is in his bedroom. His calm reaction is just so unnatural.

The rest of this chapter is Eragon learning more about Saphira, and it’s pretty disappointing. In fantasy and science-fiction, characters experience things that we, in the real world, will never get to do. That’s a big part of their appeal. We’ll never be able to fly on the back of a dragon or shoot fire from our hands, but through books like this one, we can imagine what it’s like. Which is why Paolini’s vague descriptions of Eragon’s interactions with Saphira are so annoying to me. For example, he tells us that Eragon played with the dragon, but doesn’t say what that means. Were they playing fetch? Hide and seek? Chasing mice? How would an intelligent creature with abilities different than ours (and a newborn) react to her rapidly expanding world? How does Eragon respond to her actions? There’s a lot of possibility to show us some exciting (and adorable) stuff, but it just gets glossed over.

I want to play fetch with a baby dragon so badly.