I was intrigued by the cover design of The First Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever (by Stephen R. Donaldson). The book is quite dark, and brilliant.
So much pain, the grief, the pages and pages overrun with the burning tears of despair. The loss, oh Lena! the loss. There is no reprieve – Thomas Covenant’s world and the Land are slashed into bleeding shreds. The more the beauty of Life is perceived, the more there is to lose and the greater the pain. In his leperous numb responses Covenant rebuffs some of the sharper grief, but this merely deflects the full impact of despair onto the reader. Ah! Saltheart Foamfollower, the burden you have been given. Trell Atiaran-mate, Gravelingas of Stonedown, my friend! Your strength surpasses the heroic, and yet still you are crushed mercilessly and slowly by the ever tightening twists of the ill fate that are woven by Despite around those we love most.
The first volume, Lord Foul’s Bane, slapped my face a hard blow that sent me reeling for cover, deep into the healing beauty of the Land. The second, The Illearth War, impressed me with the masterfully controlled plot, but even so I felt the subtle cold irony of Lord Foul’s intent, I was drawn into the fight for the Land. And yet I knew that this was what Lord Foul wanted; to fill me with pride and hope only to crush it in its fullness, thereby making his mastery all the more satisfying. The capacity for cruelty in the Despiser appalled me.
From the time of Hile Troy’s hopeless march across the plains, the tune of the tale changed, for me. The Land had become real for me, I felt connected and involved with the characters. I stepped across the hills and smelled the aliantha in the sunshine. I felt the power of the Ranyhyn, their majestical perfection of form as they ran free in service to the Lords. I struggled with High Lord Elena to unlock the secrets of the Seventh Ward.
And once the Despiser had me in this position, he began to strike. Over and over I was flayed by the lash of despair; another friend fell to their death. Not a simple death or honourable end – rather, one prefaced by hope and striving, then struggle, then torturous toil and suffering, and defeat. On and on, the emotional lashing of defeat and misery stripped me of my defences, leaving my heart raw, leaving me crying out in frustration and sorrow. Ah! to choose between Revelstone and a child in danger. The siege of Revelstone! The fall of Triock son of Thuler! All so well written.
The Power that Preserves moved me, shifted worlds of perception. Covenant becomes a hero at last and is a greater hero than any I have encountered before, because of his determination. Alone, he keeps on going. Thomas Covenant, White Gold Wielder is True to the end.
The language is intentionally archaic, some elements are intended to make you sceptical (like Drool Rockworm – at first you think, what a ridiculous name, but later it sinks in that the author is deliberately manipulating your response so that you side with Covenant, you understand his disbelief of this fantasy world he is in. But it becomes all too real, for Covenant and the reader.)
Hellfire! That was one good read. How does Stephen Donaldson find the courage to write The Second Chronicles after this?
