Jump to content

Bakker XIV: Star Trek into Darkness that Comes Before


Happy Ent

Recommended Posts

I don't understand why Kellhus bothers people so much.

Its just some of his manipulation doesn't seem all that impressive and he never comes up against values he can't overcome. Also based on what the probability trance is, he should be more limited by misinformation and stuff he simply can't know. Yet somehow sending Mimara to Akka works out when in all probability it shouldn't. If this is a test fine but if they are vital to his plans I don't buy it. It would have been far to easy for them to die under the mountain of for Cleric to kill them or any number of things that could go wrong.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

For example, the timing of Mimara's arrival at Akka's tower. Yes, this was the push that sent him to the Skin-Eaters. But as someone mentioned in a previous page, if not Mimara then Kellhus likely had other ways. He certainly could have created an environment where Mimara is likely to leave, but it needn't have been her specifically.
It actually did kind of need to be Mimara. Mimara has a bunch of traits that drove Akka - that she looks like Esme. That she's of the Few and needed a teacher. That she is apparently a fine piece of ass. Probably couldn't get all of that in one package.

Another wrinkle - assuming Kellhus is responsible for Akka's trip, he was very nearly undone by events beyond his control, eg Cil-Aujas.
This isn't a bug, it's a feature. Kellhus' plans (and Moe for that matter) have always depended somewhat on things working out okay. It's not a 100% plan; what it is is a likelihood of what he wants happening. Your goal is to get Akka to Sauglish and Ishual at near the same point as the Great Ordeal arrives at Ishtar; what is the course of action that results in that happening most often? It could fail - just as Kellhus could have died in the woods or not run into Cnaiur on his way there. Hell, Cnaiur dying would have almost immediately put an end to Kellhus, and Cnaiur dying was a pretty good chance of happening.

For me, one of the reasons that Kellhus bugs me is that you don't see those stupid failures. Those things that shouldn't have happened but did anyway. Or maybe you do - but it doesn't matter because Kellhus always is planning so far ahead that any one small setback isn't enough, and he has contingencies for those issues. That might be; perhaps I'm just annoyed at the telling of it instead of showing it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Its just some of his manipulation doesn't seem all that impressive and he never comes up against values he can't overcome.

Why would he? What do you expect, for there to be someone out their pure of heart enough to defeat the evil Dunyain's manipulations or something?

Also based on what the probability trance is, he should be more limited by misinformation and stuff he simply can't know.

Haven't we seen this? Didn't Moe call for Kellhus because the plan was too complex for anyone but a full Dunyain with all his faculties and skills to carry out because it'd need constant tweaking?

Yet somehow sending Mimara to Akka works out when in all probability it shouldn't

Did he send Mimara or is this R+L=J; a fan theory taken for granted? The lack of a Kellhus POV has had a weird effect. People assume his omniscience to argue against it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

We see Kellhus fail several times, most memorably in his attempt to manipulate Cnaiür. “The steppe is trackless, eh?” There are a lot of near-misses and very high gambles, such as getting circumfied. We are told explicitly that even Kellhus cannot see past that event. Would it have been nice to have more “the steppe is trackless” scenes? Yes, of course. That was highly satisfying. But Kellhus is not infallible, and is not able to premeditate every outcome, and we’re being told this quite clearly.

An even stronger argument, in my mind, is the following: one cannot reject the notion of a Dunyain and his manipulations just because Kellhus apparently always wins and therefor is unrealistic. Why? Because Moënghus is exactly like Kellhus. And he loses. In fact, Moënghus makes several huge mistakes, including blinding himself early on.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

I agree with that... if you recall Kellhus is also explicitly incorrect about one of primary assumptions about his father and the Consult - he thinks that his father found them only 12 years prior to the Holy War (which fits the information he has with regards to the SS and Cish warring), but we know from Aurang's POV that they have been blind in Shimeh for "decades."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

We see Kellhus fail several times, most memorably in his attempt to manipulate Cnaiür. “The steppe is trackless, eh?” There are a lot of near-misses and very high gambles, such as getting circumfied. We are told explicitly that even Kellhus cannot see past that event. Would it have been nice to have more “the steppe is trackless” scenes? Yes, of course. That was highly satisfying. But Kellhus is not infallible, and is not able to premeditate every outcome, and we’re being told this quite clearly.

An even stronger argument, in my mind, is the following: one cannot reject the notion of a Dunyain and his manipulations just because Kellhus apparently always wins and therefor is unrealistic. Why? Because Moënghus is exactly like Kellhus. And he loses. In fact, Moënghus makes several huge mistakes, including blinding himself early on.

Come on. He manipulates kingdoms, entire swathes and cultures of people, and we should think him fallible because he runs into an insane nomad who was preconditioned by his father? In the end, Cnaiur ends up dead and is used for large parts of the books as a tool, even if he does reveal a truth to Akka, while the circumfix incident ends in his favor. Part of Kalbears point is that whatever his possibility of failure, he makes huge leaps based on on little to no available data and comes out on top. He might not in the end, i suppose, but up to this point all we have seen is a far too high batting average. For me i'd rather see that he was using magic OR something like the spice to gain prescience rather than try to wrap it all up in probability.

So far he has proven to be mostly infallible. And we might be told that he is not infallible, but i have yet to SEE it in more than a few minor instances that do not set him back at all. That he could not see past the circumfix does not mean that it did not greatly help out his cause. That his father fucked up means nothing to me. We are talking about Khellus. You could say that the Logic Monks are fallible because Moenghus buggered up, but Khellus has proven himself at every turn to be greater than his father. For all intents and purposes we, as the readers, are being manipulated into seeing Khellus as near perfect.

I think, ultimately, if it was a little bit less than what it is i would be fine. But Khellus manipulating Akka and sending him into the wilds where again it all works out despite the odds just leads to another instance of things turning out pretty good for Ninja Jesus.

I don't want to be mistaken here, i am reading his books again, so i do like them. But maybe its potential squandered that gets me worked up.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

You could say that the Logic Monks are fallible because Moenghus buggered up, […]

That, and nothing more, is my point.

but Khellus has proven himself at every turn to be greater than his father. For all intents and purposes we, as the readers, are being manipulated into seeing Khellus as near perfect.

I for one do believe that Kellhus is exaclty what he tells us. In particular, holy and chosen by the God. He absolutely is greater than his father and indeed near perfect.

My point is that Kellhus eclipses Moënghus because of his divinity, not his Dunyain conditioning. Of course, you may (validly) say that you don’t like books with figures like Gandalf or Kellhus because you don’t like the idea of divine intervention.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Of course, you may (validly) say that you don’t like books with figures like Gandalf or Kellhus because you don’t like the idea of divine intervention.
I'd say it more that I don't like characters like that because I don't like divine intervention as a solution to a plot issue. And like isn't really the right word either; it's more that I don't find it particularly interesting or compelling.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Why would he? What do you expect, for there to be someone out their pure of heart enough to defeat the evil Dunyain's manipulations or something?

No I just mean there's cultural limits to manipulation not so much strength of heart but prejudice, Kellhus would have had a much harder time of it if he were a woman.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

We see Kellhus fail several times, most memorably in his attempt to manipulate Cnaiür. “The steppe is trackless, eh?” There are a lot of near-misses and very high gambles, such as getting circumfied. We are told explicitly that even Kellhus cannot see past that event. Would it have been nice to have more “the steppe is trackless” scenes? Yes, of course. That was highly satisfying. But Kellhus is not infallible, and is not able to premeditate every outcome, and we’re being told this quite clearly.

An even stronger argument, in my mind, is the following: one cannot reject the notion of a Dunyain and his manipulations just because Kellhus apparently always wins and therefor is unrealistic. Why? Because Moënghus is exactly like Kellhus. And he loses. In fact, Moënghus makes several huge mistakes, including blinding himself early on.

Some stuff also works in his favour for reasons he can't explain. "The Shrial Knights must be punished" being the biggest example.

I'd say it more that I don't like characters like that because I don't like divine intervention as a solution to a plot issue. And like isn't really the right word either; it's more that I don't find it particularly interesting or compelling.

Seems a strange stance to take in a world with gods in it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

In general, I think people overestimate the planning needed for some of this stuff. Getting Akka to Ishual takes suprisingly few moves, a little understanding of his motivations and what he's been up to and some gambling.

Mimara sends him on his way, make sure the Skin Eaters are there to guide him and that's about it. The rest is a roll of the dice, hoping the Skin Eaters and Akka together are formidable enough to meet the challenges of the journey, which isn't a terrible bet.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Seems a strange stance to take in a world with gods in it.
If you remember, the series didn't start with a lot of god involvement and it was somewhat implied that all the cults that existed were, for lack of a better term, complete bullshit.

One can have a story with gods that doesn't have divine intervention as a plot resolver as well. R'hillor and GRRM is a fine example of this, where most of the time it's used as a plot starter, not ender. No one prays to R'hllor and the story ends. R'hllor doesn't send his champion down to smite. So far we've not seen a ton of divine intervention as plot resolver in Earwa either - the Gods have played a similar role to R'hllor. Yatwer specifically isn't a way to solve the plot but something to be overcome. But there have been those odd things like the Shrial Knights that are a bit annoying like that. Kellhus as predictor that occasionally fails is cool; Kellhus as agent of the God where everything is preordained is not as much.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

So it's annoying because you didn't know it would be there at the start? I'm really not sure what your objection actually is anymore.

The Shrial Knights thing is actually a big deal in the narrative although many forget about it. It freaks Kellhus the fuck out that he accidentally, unintentionally utters prophecy.

Then there's stuff like the hand halos.

There's most definitely hints by TWP that more is going on then at first evident.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Part of the problem is the heavy handedness of Bakker. Sure, Khellus is freaked out by actually uttering prophecy. Yet again, something lucky runs his way.

I can understand HE's point now, i guess, thinking that Khellus is actually divine. I'm not entirely sure how that conclusion was reached, however. I have at no point thought of Khellus as divine. Quite the opposite, he strikes me as playing for if not the other team, then certainly his own ends. If the gods have set him along the path he is walking, and it is preordained, i have to say that I too am not enthused at all with that notion.

But, and this is where conjecture could run off the rails, perhaps all of these events have been put in place by the gods to deal with the problem of damnation. It could be that in some way they too are damned, and seek a solution other than the extermination of all humans. I am sure that a million conjectures have been pushed around this thread on what the hell is going on, and i don't want to go down that road.

In fact, i promised i would stay out of the Bakker threads and here i am, balls deep in shit and probabilities.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

So it's annoying because you didn't know it would be there at the start? I'm really not sure what your objection actually is anymore.

The Shrial Knights thing is actually a big deal in the narrative although many forget about it. It freaks Kellhus the fuck out that he accidentally, unintentionally utters prophecy.

Then there's stuff like the hand halos.

There's most definitely hints by TWP that more is going on then at first evident.

Hmm. It's not that interesting if Kellhus is a god and will win simply because the universe wills it. Had I known that ahead of time I would likely have not started the second trilogy at all. It is in a lot of ways the same problem with something like BSG's ending, if that helps at all for a comparison.

Now, I don't know that this is the case for certain. I hope that HE is wrong and that Kellhus is not actually divine, and that the prologue saying explicitly that Kellhus is mad is correct. If I'm wrong and that Kellhus' victory is preordained because he is God, it ruins a lot of any kind of dramatic tension for me. It makes endings cheap. The objections I have are the hints that that is what's going to happen.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hmm. It's not that interesting if Kellhus is a god and will win simply because the universe wills it. Had I known that ahead of time I would likely have not started the second trilogy at all. It is in a lot of ways the same problem with something like BSG's ending, if that helps at all for a comparison.

Now, I don't know that this is the case for certain. I hope that HE is wrong and that Kellhus is not actually divine, and that the prologue saying explicitly that Kellhus is mad is correct. If I'm wrong and that Kellhus' victory is preordained because he is God, it ruins a lot of any kind of dramatic tension for me. It makes endings cheap. The objections I have are the hints that that is what's going to happen.

It helps in that I think the objections to BSG's ending are equally strange and silly.

There's clearly something going on with Kellhus beyond just "really smart" but it's shape is still unknown.

Just because someone/something is divine or aided by the divine doesn't mean there's no tension. There's certainly tension already in the narrative.

Hell, there's tension in any good narrative despite the vast majority of protagonists having the divine will of the writer on their side.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

On a certain meta level all writing is pre-ordained, someone thought it before they wrote it (or didn't if you want to get into the silly weeds of it all), fiction, non fiction, blogs, forums; before something is written it is thought first. To have an author write a secondary world fantasy is to create a world where the events are pre-ordained by the author, that the author is God.

On another meta level, all books are just blobs of ink arranged for observation on desecrated tree flesh.

We see Kellhus fail several times, most memorably in his attempt to manipulate Cnaiür. “The steppe is trackless, eh?” There are a lot of near-misses and very high gambles, such as getting circumfied. We are told explicitly that even Kellhus cannot see past that event. Would it have been nice to have more “the steppe is trackless” scenes? Yes, of course. That was highly satisfying. But Kellhus is not infallible, and is not able to premeditate every outcome, and we’re being told this quite clearly.

If you remember, the series didn't start with a lot of god involvement and it was somewhat implied that all the cults that existed were, for lack of a better term, complete bullshit.

You're both 'correct,' right from the prologue both of these arguments are indicated by a single scene. However your interpretations of the scene differed. Ent interpreted the following scene as an indication that Kellhus was fallible. Kalbear interpreted the following scene by agreeing with Kellhus' perspective and believing Kellhus' internal monologue of self flattery. Following this scene, taking either then Ent or Kal approach would cause one reader or another to continue to find evidence to support their hypothesis.

It's actually a clever scene, Bakker has Kellhus use the assumptions and mindset that one would expect most modern day Earthlings would also use, and thus he hides from readers both Kellhus' error and also how Kellhus more or less edits out his errors, even when he fails or makes false assumptions or works from wrong facts he never doubts himself or his own abilities, he's got a constant internal 'I'm perfect and superior' monologue going that is relatively unaffected by any situation he encounters, Conphas has the same internal monologue, for what it's worth.

Leweth shrugged. “Why, Kellhus? Why would the Gods send you to me?”

For Leweth, Kellhus knew, the world was fraught with gods, ghosts, even demons. It was steeped in their conspiracies, crowded with omens and portents of their capricious humours. Like a second horizon, their designs encompassed the struggles of men—shrouded, cruel, and in the end, always fatal.

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (p. 15). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

“Sorcery . . .”

Always the curious intermingling of awe and dread when Leweth uttered this word. There were witches, Leweth had told him, whose urgings could harness the wild agencies asleep in earth, animal, and tree. There were priests whose pleas could sound the Outside, move the Gods who moved the world to give men respite. And there were sorcerers whose assertions were decrees, whose words dictated rather than described how the world had to be.

Superstition. Everywhere and in everything, Leweth had confused that which came after with that which came before, confused the effect for the cause. Men came after, so he placed them before and called them “gods” or “demons.” Words came after, so he placed them before and called them “scriptures” or “incantations.” Confined to the aftermath of events and blind to the causes that preceded him, he merely fastened upon the ruin itself, men and the acts of men, as the model of what came before.

But what came before, the Dûnyain had learned, was inhuman.

There must be some other explanation. There is no sorcery.

“What do you know of Shimeh?” Kellhus asked.

The walls shivered beneath a fierce succession of gusts, and the flame twirled with abrupt incandescence. The hanging pelts lightly rocked to and fro. Leweth looked about, his brow furrowed, as though he strained to hear someone.

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (pp. 16-17). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

Naturally, this chapter ends with the cornerstone of Kellhus' argument being rather completely disproven (and to drive the point home, the next perspective is of someone who works sorcery), but if the reader has already decided they agree with Kellhus that "there is no sorcery," the reader has already bought into Kellhus' evaluations and assessments even though they've been presented evidence that Kellhus is quite often wrong in evaluations and assessments they'll continue to believe his because readers have been primed from the beginning to agree with Kellhus. In a way, Bakker uses this prologue to flatter his readers into agreeing and identifying with Kellhus.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Part of the problem is the heavy handedness of Bakker. Sure, Khellus is freaked out by actually uttering prophecy. Yet again, something lucky runs his way.

I can understand HE's point now, i guess, thinking that Khellus is actually divine. I'm not entirely sure how that conclusion was reached, however. I have at no point thought of Khellus as divine. Quite the opposite, he strikes me as playing for if not the other team, then certainly his own ends. If the gods have set him along the path he is walking, and it is preordained, i have to say that I too am not enthused at all with that notion.

It's a bit weird how divinity works on Earwa, interestingly enough there is some callback to Hindu mythology. There's the Godhead and the lesser gods. All things are part of the Godhead, even the lesser gods, though the lesser gods might rebel against the Godhead b/c of their arrogance.

You see this when Vishnu, who many Hindus equate with the Godhead, takes mortal form. The lesser gods sometimes present obstacles to the Godhead's work.

So the lesser gods are just as caught up in the dream of the God (Bakker even talks about God dreaming up creation) as the mortals they preside over.

But, and this is where conjecture could run off the rails, perhaps all of these events have been put in place by the gods to deal with the problem of damnation. It could be that in some way they too are damned, and seek a solution other than the extermination of all humans. I am sure that a million conjectures have been pushed around this thread on what the hell is going on, and i don't want to go down that road.

I suspect the gods may be trapped in their own prisons, but since they exist outside of linear time it's hard to figure out exactly what they are and exactly how they exist.

In fact, i promised i would stay out of the Bakker threads and here i am, balls deep in shit and probabilities.

Welcome to my Wednesdays.

@Lockesnow:

Naturally, this chapter ends with the cornerstone of Kellhus' argument being rather completely disproven (and to drive the point home, the next perspective is of someone who works sorcery), but if the reader has already decided they agree with Kellhus that "there is no sorcery," the reader has already bought into Kellhus' evaluations and assessments even though they've been presented evidence that Kellhus is quite often wrong in evaluations and assessments they'll continue to believe his because readers have been primed from the beginning to agree with Kellhus. In a way, Bakker uses this prologue to flatter his readers into agreeing and identifying with Kellhus.

Excellent analysis. FWIW, I recall Bakker saying that he thought the existence of the gods - or at least divinity of some kind - was clear before TTT.

I would say at minimum the possibility of the divine is presented in TWP with Kellhus's prophecy, the Daimos, and the Plains of Mengedda.

It is a bit weird we get topoi, prophecies, and a Ciphrang assuring Iyokus of his damnation but still think there are no gods. I figured Kellhus's atheism was correct until TTT but going back through TWP you better see the hints.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The walls shivered beneath a fierce succession of gusts, and the flame twirled with abrupt incandescence. The hanging pelts lightly rocked to and fro. Leweth looked about, his brow furrowed, as though he strained to hear someone.

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (pp. 16-17). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

Maybe this is a reach, but look at all the other uses of a form of incandescent in this novel, we see the sorcery of the Nonman gnosis, the Scarlet Spires, the Mandate, The Saik and Cishaurim all described using the word Incandescent. We also see it used for lightning during Cnaiur's rampage, and the first use of the word, for a candle flame when one character is described as 'listening' to someone.

And then came the word, the word that, on hearing, wrenched the intellect somehow.

A furious incandescence. Like a petal blown from a palm, Kellhus was thrown backward. He rolled through the snow and, stunned, struggled to his feet. He watched numbly as the Nonman was drawn upright as though by a wire. Pale watery light formed a sphere around him. The ice rain sputtered and hissed against it. Behind him rose the great tree.

Sorcery? But how could it be?

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (pp. 29-30). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

Not a sorcerer! Geshrunni had seen a Chorae touch a sorcerer once, the incandescent unravelling of flesh and bone. But then what was this man?

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (p. 44). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

Turning with sorcerous speed, he punched two fingers through Mujonish’s chain mail, cracked his breastbone, then seized his heart. He yanked his hand free, drawing a cord of glittering blood into the air. More impossible words. The blood burst into incandescent flame, followed his sweeping hand toward the Synthese. Shrieking, the creature dove from the railing into emptiness. Blinding beads of blood cracked bare stone.

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (p. 125). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

“A School, Bala! Conphas has brought a School!”

Near the heart of the valley, from infantry phalanxes hastily arrayed to meet Oknai One-Eye and his Munuäti, at least two dozen black-robed figures slowly climbed over the field and into the sky. Schoolmen. The sorcerers of the Imperial Saik. Several dispersed over the valley. Those remaining already sang their unearthly song, scorching earth and Scylvendi with shimmering flame. The Munuäti charge crumbled into an avalanche of burning horses and men.

For a long moment Cnaiür could not move. He watched mounted silhouettes topple in the heart of golden bonfires. He saw men thrown like chaff by incandescent blooms. He saw suns fall short of the horizon and come crashing to fiery earth. The air resounded with the concussions of sorcerous thunder.

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (p. 180). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

Incandescent white cracked the sky, and for an instant, he saw the entire world: the desolate horizon, the sweep of distant pastures, the surrounding yaksh of his kinsmen, and the lone figure standing not more than a dozen yards away, watching . . .

“Murderer,” Yursalka said numbly. “Murderer!”

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (p. 225). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

Sheltered by a hollow between the wall and an overturned table, Eleäzaras had crawled through his own blood to die—or so he thought. Some of his peers still survived. He glimpsed the instant that Sasheoka, his predecessor and teacher, crumpled beneath the blinding touch of the assassins. And Iyokus, on his knees, his pale head blackened by blood, swaying behind the shimmering of his Wards, struggling to reinforce them. Cataracts of light obscured him, and Eleäzaras, somehow unnoticed by the intruders, felt the words boil to his lips. He could see them—three men in saffron robes, two crouching, one erect, bathed in the incandescence of their exertions. He saw serene faces with the deep sockets of the blind, and energies wheeling from their foreheads as though through a window to the Outside. A golden phantom reared from Eleäzaras’s outstretched hands—a scaled neck, a mighty crest, jaws scissoring open. With a queen’s deliberate grace, the dragon’s head dipped and scourged the Cishaurim with fire. Eleäzaras had wept with rage. Their Wards collapsed. Stone cracked. The flesh was swept from their bones. Their agony had been too brief.

Bakker, R. Scott (2008-09-02). The Darkness that Comes Before (The Prince of Nothing) (p. 496). Penguin Group. Kindle Edition.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.
×
×
  • Create New...