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Goodkind 54: How to Revive a Dead Dick


Myshkin

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4 minutes ago, Antonius Pius said:

I think a righteous thing of anger will rise within Dick and that will allow Dick to triumph over death and deathchoosers.

That'll be the next book methinks.  

Wait, I forget does Nicci's book take place before or after this one?  Isn't Richard alive in that one?  I've sadly already forgotten most of the details, other than the furious tree whores.

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1 minute ago, Ded As Ned said:

That'll be the next book methinks.  

Wait, I forget does Nicci's book take place before or after this one?  Isn't Richard alive in that one?  I've sadly already forgotten most of the details, other than the furious tree whores.

Ah yes, the tree whores... There's just so much winning with Terry.

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The Nicci book definitely takes place after Warheart. There's a spinoff launching moment at the end of this current book.

 

Now that I think about it at the end here there is sort of an angry thing that rises up within Dick and kills death-choosers, except the thing itself is also death. And, yeah, as has been pointed out, Hannity and CZV are definitely bringing death, like that is objectively what they are doing, so why Dick is a good bringer of death and they're bad ones is methodologically unclear to me. I guess we just need to always keep in mind that none of this is consistent or makes any goddamn sense, that trying to make it do so is a recipe for madness, and that one of the only true laws in Terryland is that whatever Dick does is absolutely the right thing -- Larry suggested a connection between Dick and Trump a little while back and while I personally only intermittently get a Trump vibe off Dick I certainly agree that this anything-this-one-dude-does-is-right-because-he-does-it attitude in particular is very Trumpian indeed.

 

And now a brief intermission, a pause for reflection upon my dark journey. Pray indulge me...

 

Interlude: A Dick Withering, or They Don't Yeard 'em Like They Used To

 

            So here we are, after a crazy twenty-two-plus thousand words of recap nonsense, only a few dozen pages from the end of Warheart, the very last book focused on the adventures of Dick until Terry decides the retirement fund needs a little juice from his most popular creation.  After emphasizing how near we are to our trial's end last time I wanna push on to the end and be done, but this feels like as good a moment as any to pause and reflect on the experience I've had:

 

            Recapping Warheart has been super fun.  Agonizing and frequently boring, of course, because it's so bad, but always fun.  I'm glad I decided to do it.  It's been great to be goofy and mock something I find so mockable while hopefully entertaining others by doing so, and I hope that, while highlighting what I perceive to be the book's and the series' very real and substantial flaws that in my opinion make both deeply, hilariously bad as fantasy and as storytelling in a general sense, I have managed to avoid being unnecessarily mean.  However, I do feel a little twinge of melancholy as we approach the end.  Not because I ever had a lot personally invested in Goodkind's Sword of Truth series — I read a couple of them in high school while I was waiting for Robert Jordan to make new Wheel of Time books happen and Goodkind certainly got me to buy that they were okay for a while, but I worked my way around to how problematic they were pretty early and dropped away from them, so they have very little nostalgic power for me.  No, what it is, and this is tough to explain, is that ...  look: Even at its most wretched, which it achieved frequently, the Sword of Truth series as I experienced it used to firmly believe that you should either go big or go home.  It was dumb, it was preachy, its objectivist philosophy ranged from lame to morally reprehensible, and its gender politics were gross, but it never did things by halves.  It sucked but it was almost never boring: Dick was always rising up and living life all over the place and killing the shit out of people.  It was a rare day when nobody got their heads cut off or their hearts torn out or their junk mutilated for pervy magic rituals.  People got stared down by raptor gazes; there were jaw-kickings; things rose up in anger.  Evil manifested itself in chicken form. It was unintentionally campy.  It was awful, but at least it fucking lived; it had some gas in its tank.

 

            Warheart, though, Warheart's just flat.  There's nothing there.  The characters walk from point A to point B and read things, talk dry magic talk that wouldn't know the numinous ineffable if they passed each other on the street, worry repetitively about the same five things and vomit exposition that might as well be cut-and-pasted, feel the same set of emotions over and over, and then occasionally engage in a page or two of desultory fight scene that Goodkind seems to have almost no energy for.  Where now are the righteous murders? Where are the things that were rising? Where are the raptor gazes and the calm furies, and the old jaw-kicking? Alas, for all these things have passed away.  Yes, we mocked these things and we were right to do so, but in their absence Dickland is flat and empty and seems to have lost what zest for life it had, and all that now remains is expanses of listless prose and expository dialogue that barely flows as sentences never mind approximating human speech, punctuated by occasional spikes of absurd hero worship, anti-immigrant sentiment and casual racism.  It's as if Goodkind has lost all interest, like he's just trudging forward plunking words down on paper and hoping the obligation to keep writing will go away soon.  And that makes me sad, because the old books felt like Goodkind was at least getting some kind of enjoyment out of his work.  I don't like the series and I find its views on the human condition a little bit insidious, but it saddens me that it is so obviously shambling forward as a hollowed-out husk of its former self.

 

            This goose ain't cooked quite yet though, so let's see how this all shakes out: Three posts to go! I know these sections have been getting longer, sorry, but I want us to really take our time over the ending, because despite all the stuff I just said about the flatness and listlessness of the book, which I still think is true, vintage Terry really shows up for work at a couple moments in these last chapters and they contain some of the book's most delightful doses of offensive monkey business and general stupid.  There are a lot of very negative things to be said about Goodkind's writing, and I've said all of them at length, but never let it be said that he doesn't give us anything.  Buckle up, because here comes the dumb:

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Warheart, Chapters 56-59: Everybody Wants Some Dick, Part 1

 

            Dick surfaces in the sliph's well in the People's Palace.  He's exhausted and achy and it hurts to breathe.  Our boy is pretty fucked up by the poison slash sickness slash touch of death inside him at this point: Cassia pulls him out and he's dead weight.  He staggers up and checks to make sure the Phallic Substitute of Truth is still on his belt.  Then he and Cassia head for the Garden of Life.  Something is "wrong" in the palace though: it smells like smoke and the halls are empty, so it sounds like Cranky Zombie Voldemort and Sean Hannity's Operation Fuck Shit Up in the People's Palace has proceeded apace.

 

            Announcement: After having devoted an entirely unreasonable amount of thought to this matter I'ma start calling Sulachan Suchi full time instead of Cranky Zombie Voldemort. I think it hits the ear more amusingly.

 

            They slip through the deserted service halls until they reach a big door that leads into the public areas.  Cassia hears screaming on the other side of it and Dick redirects them.  They keep going, always avoiding the sound of battle, though it of course hurts Dick's righteous soul to do so.  The sentries guarding the Garden of Life are surprised to see the bossman.  They report on the situation, which is that the half-people have gotten into the palace through the catacombs and are now wrecking shit, so no new real information.  Oh, except the guard who reports to Richard credits the half-people as directly responsible for the melting of the stone in the Rahl crypts, something Dick has known about for hours and not even gone to look at let alone addressed in any way; he says they're melting it themselves, not just taking advantage of the fact it's happening, and it's one of their main points of ingress.  They've been in the palace for pretty much as long as Dick's been gone, and oh wow, it's been multiple days, three or four.  None of the defenders have gotten any sleep while trying to hold the shun-tuk back from the upper levels of the palace, so they're pretty wiped now.  Suchi and Sean Hannity are both hanging around, the guard says, but seem to be in no hurry; this is like a show for them.  Terry reminds you that these gentlemen are evil, sooooo eeeevil, and probably disembowel and roast live puppies in their spare time.

 

            Richard tells the sentries to clear out of the Garden, and also to spread the order that everyone is to fuck off out of the major palace thoroughfares and let the enemy take them.  He says that "when the time is right" General Zimmer must surrender the palace and let the filthy immigrants err I mean half people flood through, and that "you will know" when that time is, which is helpful.  Dick takes the Boxes of Orden down into Regula's chamber and lays them on top of the machine.  Then he leans against the machine, waiting.  While he waits, he thinks about Kahlan, who is holed up in a safe zone somewhere in the palace by the way — Helpful Soldier mentioned that.  He thinks about how much he loves her and how special and awesome their bond is and how "many people lived their entire lives together without being together, without actually sharing their lives the way he and Kahlan had," because it wouldn't be a TG-BRANDED quiet moment of warmth and reflection without a little judgment and smugness about how Dick and the Dicksquad are better than other people.  There are even candles burning in here to make the moment perfect.

 

            Absorbed in thoughts of love though he is, Dick hears the sound of footsteps above and is instantly on alert.  This must, he thinks, be the Suchinator, because our boy would recognize the taint of death within Richard and be able to track him something something something occult power.  So I guess the "right moment" for the D'Harran forces to retreat has come and gone then? Whatever, yep it's Suchi; he comes down the stairs glowing his evil blue glow and smiling spookily and starts mustache-twirling about how he's grateful Richard is hanging around to be iced, and how, contra Sean Hannity, who wants to keep Dick alive to make him suffer, he's gonna just kill Dick right now to make sure he meddles no further.  Dick says he's "not the kind to run," and generally square-jaws it up.

 

            The Sooch-master approaches the Omen Machine, figurative mustache going a hundred miles an hour, and Dick casually grabs a bit of candle wax, wanders over to the door, and drops one of the warding cloths from Boring Ghost Dungeon down over the entrance to trap him in here.  This confuses and annoys Suchikins, and he begins to circle the room, Bond-villaining up a storm to cover the fact that his inability to leave the room is grinding his gears.  He raises his hands to killify Dick with his occult powers, but before he can get a groove going Dick tells Regula it's "time to go home," jams the wax in his ears, takes out the Sword of Truth, and lays it across the Boxes of Orden on top of the machine.

 

            This is gonna end up being some fucking bullshit noun soup about life and death canceling each other out because something something additive subtractive occult many layers of balance veil Grace pepperoni with extra cheese rather than a proper showdown isn't it?

 

            Pretty much yep.  Richard tilts his head back and cuts loose with a scream that apparently releases "the call of death from deep down inside" and frees his magic from where it's trapped beneath the poison.  I would point out in passing that this is sort of like a thing rising up from within him, except in this case the thing is a screaming shitfit. Go with this wither you will. Wait, you say, we have at no point been informed that screaming the poison out was an option for Richard, and your objection is noted, but I think what you're overlooking here is that fuck you. His magical scream fills the room, gathering the "anger of the sword," sending dust swirling everywhere and knocking shit over; it's like the characters in a Dragonball anime powering up a supermove.  Suchi covers his ears so he can't hear the "call of death."

 

            Now the sheer power of Dick's magical ejaculations is creating a whirlwind of spinning darkness; it sucks up the metal prophecy strips.  The Boxes of Orden slam together and explode with light, which then shoots upward like a laser and blasts the roof off Regula's chamber and shatters the glass roof above.  Regula breaks apart and is drawn up into the whirlwind of light, where it disintegrates.  Dick can't hear any of this, because these are some high-quality improvised wax earplugs.  The Suchinator tries to defend himself, but as soon as he uncovers his ears the death magic storm thingy is all TASTY UNDEAD SPIRIT NOM NOM NOM and both his body and the evil glowy soul shell around it get ripped apart and sucked into the vortex, killifying him instantly. Goodbye Suchi, we hardly knew ye.

 

            Richard stops screaming and collapses to his knees once he's expelled all the death within him.  All the plotstuff is gone: Dick's bad touch disease is gone and his death meter is empty; Regula's gone; the Boxes of Orden are gone; Suchi's gone; prophecy's gone; the "spectral fold" is "closed"; this was one productive scream.  Sword's still here though! Dick's all better now and his magic mojo is back, but he can still hear the howls of the half people from elsewhere in the palace.

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Yes! Perfect!

 

Warheart, Chapters 56-59: Everybody Wants Some Dick, Part 2

 

            Regula's room and the Garden of Life are torn to shit, so Dick has to pick his way carefully through the rubble on his way to deus ex machina away the rest of his problems, but he persists, and is just about out of the Garden of Life when, uh-oh, Sean Hannity's evil Mord-Sith minion Vika jumps out and blocks his path.  Twenty bucks says the sheer force of Dick's personality talks her around to loving him forever and converting to the side of good.  She gives him creepy Mord-Sith eyes.  He's apparently given her the healing words of Dickie Rahl routine before while he was being held captive by Hannity, because he tells her that she remembers their talk and asks her in a fatherly way whether she's thought about what she wants to do with her life.

 

            Before she can respond Sean Hannity his very own evil tattooed self comes into the Garden, dragging Kahlan by her hair in the full damsel position, because Terry hasn't done a woman endangerment scene yet this book and he wanted to squeeze one in before the lights go up.  Stay classy, Terry.  Kahlan can't use her Mother Confessor power against Hannity, apparently; not sure why other than to artificially maximize her peril and helplessness, but it's probably something to do with Sean's tats.  Richard starts forward to launch into the obligatory don't you hurt her routine, but it looks like maybe I'd have lost money if there'd actually been anybody to bet with, because Vika gets in his face and slams him with her painrod and he collapses to the ground.  She leans over him and "growls intimately" that he'll stay down if he knows what's good for him.  Oh bless you Terry, you take away with one hand and give with the other; tell me, Terry, how does one "growl intimately?" I thank you for this gift, this gem of stupidity, and should not have doubted you; you always come through for us.

 

            Richard's in so much pain he can't move.  All he can see are Vika's boots in front of him.  Terry's hitting the dominatrix imagery real hard here.  Hannity throws Kahlan on the ground and starts strangling her with his occult power.  He tells Vika to get out of his way and off she scoots.  Hannity starts monologuing at Richard.  It's a good one; lots of hot air about how Richard has helped him by getting rid of Suchikins, and how he's going to rule the world of life and so on.  He sounds exactly like all Goodkind's villains.  He extends one hand toward Kahlan and one toward Richard to start getting his torture freak on by strangling both of them with his mind powers, but Vika walks up behind him, ooooh come on big money big money big money...  Yes! I called it; I was right the first time.  Vika stabs her painrod into the back of Sean Hannity's head and KILLS THE SHIT OUT OF HIM.  His evil tattoos bubble and smoke and sink into his flesh.  His skin starts to peel and flop off.  His eyes and ears bleed. He is super dead, like oldtime Sword of Truth dead, with unnecessary mangling just to make it hardcore.

 

            Dick and Kahlan hug.  Vika says that she used her painrod on Dick because she knew he couldn't beat Hannity one to one and she needed to present Hannity with a tempting target, but that she knows Mord-Sith who assault the entirely benevolent, totally not fascist Lord Rahl in this way are subject to instant execution.  She says that it was her choice to save him, that this is how she has chosen to dispose of her life as a free-thinking individual, and drops to her knees and asks him to make it quick.  TG is really laying it on thick here.  No doubt you're thinking he forgives her.  He does of course, but brace for impact regarding the way he does it, because there is some weapons-grade stupid comin' atcha: He kisses his finger and touches it to her forehead, tells her that's her punishment, and says "If you don't behave, I will tell all the other Mord-Sith that I kissed you.  You will never hear the end of it as long as you live." It's great that we could get one more real classy reiteration of how sexually-charged Dick's relationship with all his leather-clad women bodyguards is before the curtain falls.  Gross.

 

            Anyway, Vika says she decided to betray Hannity a long time ago, after her talk with Dick about life and free will of course, but she had to wait for the right time.  She wanted to save others rather than just run away, partly because Hannity would have hunted her down and peeled off her goddamn skin if she'd just booked it without scrubbing him out first.  Richard and Kahlan both tell her they're proud of her.  In case it needs going over one more time: Beautiful young woman who kills and tortures people, but responds correctly to Dick's exhortations to rise up and live life? Rewarded with approval from the powers that be and a stable place in the hierarchy of Dickland.  Beautiful young woman who rejects Dick's wisdom and continues to assault him and his no matter how many times the truth of his perfection is placed before her? Crushed by rocks.  Aren't subtexts fun?!

 

            Richard runs to a bridge over one of the palace's major hallways, from which he can see the raging battle below.  The floor is covered with dead, mostly half people, of course, for any one of the Lord Rahl's soldiers is worth a dozen filthy zombie immigrants, but the half people are whittling them down and they're still fucking everywhere, munching on corpses and generally being the worst.  Richard draws the Sword of Truth — UNIQUE METALLIC RING!!! — and points the blade out over the balcony.  He releases the spirits and tells them to go find their respective meatbags.  They flow out of the sword in rippling curtains of light, which then scatter across the palace.  Kahlan is all "what?" and Dick explains that the Sanctuary of Souls was designed to house the souls severed from the half people when they were created, in the hope that one day they could be reunited with their bodies.  All the half people stop chasing and eating people — aw man wouldn't it suck to have your soul restored to you right when you were in the middle of chomping on some dead person? Gross.  They are delighted; they laugh, they cry, and experience other emotions, all of which are listed, because TG is an expert in specific writing techniques evoking feelings in the reader.

 

            Richard and Kahlan head downstairs and are greeted by Cassia, Nicci, and Nate Dog.  All the half people have stopped fighting.  Nicci and Nate Dog demand explanations and Nicci flips out when she learns Dick went back for the sword when doing so could have killed him, but Dick is here and fine and right about everything so her concerns are played for weak laughs.  Richard explains his cleverness.  It turns out that Dick deliberately kept the "poison of death" with him when he came back from the Underworld, intending all along to use it to kill the shit out of Suchi and send him back into death.  Then he deliberately amped up the bad touch disease by travelling in the sliph with the sword right before he knew he was gonna fight the Suchinator, so its death powers would be at maximum deathliness.  Oh also he fixed his magic mojo while he was in the Underworld and then layered the bad touch disease on top of it, like a plug, or a cork, specifically a cork for which the corkscrew is not in fact a corkscrew but rather a really loud scream because fuck you.  No word on whether he solved world hunger and cured cancer while he was down there too, but it seems safe to assume he did.

 

            They all complain and shake their heads and try to explain to him how his plan couldn't work when it has, I remind you, already verifiably in fact worked, but he has single-handedly solved every last problem they have and is peerless and unimpeachable in all ways, so they really can't say fuck all, and must instead listen to another few pages of him explaining all the holy shit amazing things he's done.  Oh, he also drops that btw he's ended prophecy, and Nate Dog is momentarily perturbed by this, because he's a prophet and the absence of prophecy might cramp his style, but then Dick explains at length and everything is fine.

 

And now all that remains is a little bit more cleanup / Dick-worship, in the final installment of this particular chunk of our time with Terry...

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Okay everybody, all y'all gotta do is keep your brains from melting in self-defense for the next 1400 words and we are out the other side. It is time to lay our burden down. It's been real!

 

Yours in horrified puzzlement...

 

Warheart, Chapters 56-59: Everybody Wants Some Dick, Part 3

 

            The Dick admiration party centred around Richard's explanation of how he's passed his latest exam in advanced heroics with 390% is interrupted by ...  a Mord-Sith running at them at top speed! One more assassination attempt for the road? Oh no, it's Berdine, one of the Mord-Sith from early in the series, who Goodkind hastens to remind us is shorter and "curvier" and has brown hair, not blond.  Cameo time! She jumps on Dick and wraps herself around him.  She is mega happy to see him; the way Goodkind puts it across reads kind of like a puppy, which it hardly needs to be said is turbo gross.  Kahlan asks Berdine to climb off Dick and Vika asks whether he ordinarily allows Mord-Sith to hug him.  Berdine says no, just her, because "I'm his favourite," and Kahlan, desperately trying to make this parental and platonic, which makes it differently pervy rather than not pervy, says that no they don't have favourites, that "we love you all the same."

 

            This series is the worst, you guys.

 

            General Zimmer runs up and tells Dick they've got a problem: the shun-tuk slash former half people are all gradually closing in on him, inching toward him, and they still massively outnumber the D'Harrans.  Apparently they all want to tell him something.  It'll turn out to be that they want to get close to him to thank him and tell him how much they love him, I am calling that right now.  Dick goes to one of his "devotion squares" where most of the no-longer-half-people will be able to see him.  These devotion squares are little pools with short walls around them that Dick can stand erect on while folks come and look at him, and again they are called "devotion squares" — Terry would like to remind you that Dickland is ABSOLUTELY NOT FASCIST OKAY? There are shun-tuk all over the goddamn place.  Some of them are washing their war paint off in fountains, because now that they are real people with souls again they are elevated to a civilized state and reject culturally-specific facial decoration.

 

            This series is the worst, you guys.

 

            He asks what they'd like to say to him, and of course as one they fall to their knees and lower their foreheads to the floor, and we are going full "Master Rahl guide us" fascist cult of personality chant up in here! The entire horde reels off the whole prayer to the Lord Rahl.  They chant it "in unison," which sounds like a commie pinko thing, but they're worshipping Dick and the more people who do that the better.  Remember, right back at the beginning we established that in Terryland what's good for the gander isn't good for the goose, because the gander is an upstanding citizen who loves Dick and the goose is goddamn fucking pinko immigrant filth who speaks in gibber-jabber.  Nicci is "awed." Kahlan cries.  Even Dick gets choked up by all the people who are willing to mindlessly worship him.

 

            Okay so I think we can more or less take it as read that this bullshit is a gross exercise in strongman-glorification that sounds like a totalitarian autocrat's idea of a hot dream, but also I have questions, like questions of a logical nature, most pressingly how the fuck did all the shun-tuk learn the cult chant so fast? Did some of the First File like teach it to a couple of them and then they played telephone with it?

 

            This series is the worst, you guys.

 

            A couple weeks later, at night: Richard stands at the balustrade that runs around the courtyard outside his and Kahlan's bedroom, the highest point in the palace, looking out at the night and thinking about the end of prophecy.  All the books of prophecy are being burned.  Some people want to keep the books around as finely made objects, and some people are holding onto the "superstitious" notion that the prophecies still have power even now that the Omen Machine, the source of all prophecy, has been destroyed and sent back to the Underworld, but tough shit: Dick in his wisdom knows that prophecy is "the death of free will," and that the world will be better without it, because people will no longer have the option of turning to prophecy to make their decisions like pansies, like all the damn kids with their music, but will instead have to make their decisions the real way, like he does, which is the right way.  So the books are being burned, but in a liberatory book-burning way, not a knowledge-obliterating kinda way, because you see it is totally fine to burn books so long as you do not like what is in them / object to their contents as antiquated. Nate Dog is sad, because he spent over a thousand years locked up in the Palace of the Prophets with these books as his only experience of the outside world, so Richard's told him he can pick one library in the palace and fill it with the books he wants to preserve; the rest are gettin' torched.

 

            Nate Dog might not have much time for reading, though, because he's now getting to be an adventurer for real, like he's always wanted: He has been made Lord Rahl's "roving ambassador" and sent forth to see what can be done to help the lands devastated by the march of Sean Hannity and the Sooch-master's armies of half people and generally spread the good news about Dick.  Nicci has gone with him to keep him out of trouble, and so a spinoff was born.

 

            Now we get the rundown on the Mord-Sith: Cassia is happy patrolling with the First File and generally doing Mord-Sith stuff.  Vika has decided that she is the true new incarnation of Cara, Mord-Sith No.  1.  Vale is now besties with Berdine.  They "whisper a lot to each other" and Dick pretends not to notice.  I am not sure whether this is Terry's glancing, ineffectual way of saying they're a couple or going to become one — Berdine is homosexual, it was in one of the early books — but I am sure that it works hard to infantalize them by portraying them as kids getting away with something in front of a parent; Terry's really working overtime on being classy today.

 

            Oh and also Mohler the scribe from the Citadel lives at the People's Palace now, in case that's something you care about.  Nate Dog healed Mohler's arthritic hands before he left, because our boy Nate Dog is a swell guy like that.  Mo brought all the cerulean scrolls with him and they're laid out in trunks in Dick and Kahlan's bedroom with the Warheart scroll on a stand in front; I have no clue why they want them because prophecy is destroyed and they're all useless now, but maybe Dick likes being surrounded by ancient documents all focused specifically on how great he is while he sleeps.

 

            Kahlan comes up behind Richard, apparently, Goodkind hastens to inform us, "not wearing much at all," and asks him if he's coming to bed.  Dick nods, but then points at the stars in the northern sky, which are especially bright tonight.  They watch the stars for a bit and then Kahlan asks whether Richard thinks the stars are lost souls looking for where they belong, I dunno why, maybe TG has a "How To Write Romance Scenes" manual and this is the kind of schlocky line it tells him to use here.  Richard points out that all the lost souls have found their places, because he restored the souls of the half people and is the best.

 

            The idyllic moment is momentarily broken: Kahlan says that something's wrong, that the stars aren't "in the right places," that the constellations have shifted, which you'd think somebody would have noticed before now, as it's been days if not weeks.  Kahlan starts to panic, but Dick smiles the smile of a man who knows everything and is perfect in every way, takes her hand, and assures her that the stars are where they belong, because, well, because of word salad: "The spectral fold has closed.  The Twilight Count has ended with the phase change.  The star shift is now complete." I would like to remind you that Goodkind was paid money to write this.  Dick says they will have to relearn the sky, that it will never go back to the way it was, but will always stay like this.  They kiss, and Goodkind would like to sacrifice proper subject verb agreement to let you know that "when they parted, both their breathing was a little faster." Oh Jesus Christ on a pogo stick Terry, do I have to do everything for you?: THEY ARE ABOUT To BONE.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND? TERRY GOODKIND WANTS YOU TO KNOW THAT HIS TWO MAIN CHARACTERS ARE ABOUT TO BONE, WHICH MEANS THEY ARE GOING TO HAVE SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH ONE ANOTHER USING THEIR BODIES.  Kahlan asks Dick what he thinks this means.  He says it's the start of a "new golden age." That's a promise, one hundred percent most important person in the universe Warheart-guaranteed: new golden age, comin' up.

 

            And that's all, folks.  Hope you had fun!

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Haha - talk about a strange sort of luck.

I come to the forum, drawn by a random thought of "hmmm, I wonder how Goodkind thread is faring on westeros forum these days..." and I am treated with a full recap of His Yeardness' latest literary endeavors.

Kudos folks and keep up the good work :)

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You know what? I am so happy that I got to read The Nicci and Nate Dog Traveling Salvation Show rather than this book. I mean, I suffered horribly, but at least my book didn't feature Dick in person or shitloads of incomprehensible technobabble trying to justify a deeply inconsistent magic system. Instead I got tree whores, magic cougars, and child death. I count that as a big fucking win for me.

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Goodkind is the Morrissey of epic fantasy, minus any redeeming talent for verse.  Although if he'd share the Atari ET fate, some might rejoice :P

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