Murtagh Group Spork: Argument (feat. Epistler and Torylltales)

[snarkbotanya]

 

A: Well, here we are. The beginning of a spork both anticipated and dreaded. For anyone new to the comm, I’m Anya, semi-scholarly snarker and author of the long-running deconstruction-reconstruction fic Consequence. I am also, as anyone around here already knows, a big fan of Murtagh the character, so my fellow mods and I have decided that I’ll be taking the lead on the sporking of the book where Paolini does everything in his power to fuck him up.

Speaking of my fellow mods, they’re here to delve into this with me. Epistler, Torylltales, say hello to the readers!

TT: Atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr. That’s Paolini’s ‘Ancient Language’ for “may peace live in your heart”. If what I’ve seen in previews and my own skimming is any indication, we’re all going to need a lot of peace in our hearts to get through this without damaging something.

E: I promised we’d be back and now the time has come. Chinook and I are, ironically, in a similar position to Murtagh and Thorn: on the run and hoping to avoid being found by Eragon and Saphira since we absconded from their godawful “Academy”. No doubt Nasidiot’s goons are after us too, and I don’t like to think of what they might do to us if they catch us. But we’re more than happy to be here, albeit via magic mirror. Soon revenge will be ours. As for the stranger who helped us escape… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

A: If you’re not sure what’s happening there, you can go check out Epistler’s sporking of the Eragon guide book.

With all that done, let’s delve into the prologue of Murtagh. Or rather, as Paolini has decided to call it, the “argument.” Do you think that’s better or worse than calling it a preface?

TT: He should have called it Apology. Yes, that’s a double entendre.

E: He owes an awful lot of people an apology, one which will not be forthcoming.

A: Heh. I’m personally in the camp of it being just about on the same level, because “arguments” actually are a thing in literature. An argument in literature is essentially a thesis statement, a brief summary that precedes a work. It was pretty common in the Renaissance and was mostly used for poems.

E: I have a degree in Literature and I’ve still never heard of this. Being obscure does not make you clever, Chris.

A: Indeed it does not, especially given that this “argument” is more of an introduction or prologue. Most of it is focused on providing background and recapping, in the most general possible terms, the events of the Inheritance Cycle. There’s only one line that could count as an “argument” in the literary sense, and it’s pretty weak. But for now, let’s take things as they come.

Since the argument is pretty short, I see no reason not to go through it paragraph by paragraph with full quotes. Let’s see how Paolini begins this foray back into his first literary universe.

Behold, the land of Alagaësia, vast and verdant, full of mystery. Here stand mountains that scrape the stars, forests as fathomless as an ocean, deserts scorched to barrenness, and more besides. Throughout, one will find divers peoples and creatures, from hardy humans to long-lived elves to deep-dwelling dwarves to war-wedded Urgals. And above all else, dragons—bright and brilliant and terrifying in their ancient glory.

E: They’re so bright and brilliant and terrifying that they do absolutely fuck all! Chinook says she finds this bit patronising and offensive. 

A: There are parts of this that might not bother me so much if they were coming from any other writer. The alliteration, for example. I like alliteration most of the time, but Paolini really seems to be going a bit overboard with it, and because it’s him and he’s done so much already to exhaust my supply of goodwill, I can’t help but be annoyed. There is one thing, however, that would annoy me no matter who did it, and that’s “divers”. That’s not a typo, and it’s not even incorrect provided you’re a bit liberal with the interpretation. “Divers” as an adjective is its own right meaning “multiple and different,” though semantically it’s a bit more heavy on the number and light on the variety than “diverse”. I’m not even going to quibble with the fact that it’s archaic as all hell. I’m going to quibble with it being used in a context where “diverse” would also make sense. Most modern readers are not familiar with “divers”, so when they see it in a context where “diverse” would also make sense, they’re just going to assume it’s a typo. That’s not a very good foot to get off on in your prologue.

TT: For me personally, the word divers in this context heavily calls back to Terry Pratchett, specifically the Wyrd Sisters book:

‘Divers alarums and excursions', she read, uncertainly. 'That means lots of terrible happenings, said Magrat. 'You always put that in plays.'

‘Alarums and what?', said Nanny Ogg, who hadn't been listening.

‘Excursions', said Magrat patiently.

‘Oh.' Nanny Ogg brightened a bit. 'The seaside would be nice,' she said.

‘Oh do shut up, Gytha,' said Granny Weatherwax. 'They're not for you. They're only for divers, like it says. Probably so they can recover from all them alarums.’

A: I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where he first read it.

TT: I would argue that it’s also used incorrectly in Paolini’s sentence. The specific definition is “an unspecified number more than one”, NOT an archaic way of spelling “diverse” with essentially the same meaning, the way Paolini’s used it here. “Divers people” means “more than one person”, not “a diverse range of different groups of people”. If I were editing, I’d tell him to add the final e.

A: As would I. Even if his intent was the meaning of “divers”, the context makes it ambiguous enough that people are definitely going to parse it as “diverse”.

E: Once again we are reminded of the famous Mark Twain quote. “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter. ’tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”

TT: Last point, the peoples of Alagaesia are hardly “an undefined number greater than one”. Assuming the use of “peoples” to mean racial or political groups, there isn’t an undefined number. There’s eight. Counting Surdan humans, nomadic humans, and settled Broddring humans as separate groups, but not counting Ra’zac or spirits. Counting all the humans as one racial group, there are five groups of people. Five is hardly divers.

A: Five? I would count six: humans, elves, dwarves, Urgals, dragons, and werecats. It’s interesting, by the way, that Paolini doesn’t include werecats here, considering they’re going to appear somewhat prominently in this book.

For the past century, King Galbatorix reigned as tyrant over most of the human-settled lands and was a terror to the other races as well. By his will, the dragons were broken, and their numbers much reduced until only few remained.

TT: A tyrant who maintained safe trading roads, a standing army patrolling trade routes between cities, religious artistic and intellectual freedom, and basically left everyone alone to live their lives while he brooded in his melodramatic cave-castle. 

E: Chinook says that’s not at all what happened, and she’s quite irate about it. When was he “a terror to the other races”, exactly? No, killing elves and dwarves during the war doesn’t count. They were attacking him. After which he left them to their own devices. I absolutely refuse point-blank to believe that he somehow didn’t know where Ellesmera was. 

A: Paolini would have us believe that Galbatorix was anti-intellectual-freedom and burned books and such, but we never actually see that happening. We just get told that he censored stuff, and the people who say he censored stuff are largely his in-universe political opponents, who probably aren’t the most reliable of sources. Regardless of how you interpret that, though, all the other points stand, especially the “basically leaving everyone alone” point. Hell, Surda managed to secede from his Empire! The only time Galbatorix leaves Uru’baen in the course of the Inheritance Cycle (offscreen, I might add) is to punish Marcus Tábor, the governor of Dras-Leona, for abuse of power.

Those brave folk who opposed Galbatorix fled into the hinterlands, where they came to call themselves the Varden. There they dwelt, with little hope for victory, until the dragon Saphira hatched for the human Eragon.

A: “Hatched for” is a very setting-specific phrasing. Given that this book is supposed to be accessible to new readers, I would suggest changing it to something like “the dragon Saphira chose the human Eragon to be her Rider.” New readers still won’t know the full implications of that, but it’s a lot easier to parse. Not to mention it just sounds more grand, and we all know how Paolini loves to sound grand.

E: “Hatched for” is also still really demeaning to Saphira. When you were born, were you “born for” a third party’s benefit? Unless you’re one of those organ donor babies or a royal heir, I doubt it. When Chinook hatched I made a point of not touching her until we’d gotten to know each other, and even then I let her initiate it. 

Together—and under the wise leadership of the Lady Nasuada—they marched against Galbatorix’s empire.

A: I really hate that em-dash parenthetical. Setting aside the content, here’s my line-edit:

Together, under the leadership of the Lady Nasuada, they marched against Galbatorix’s empire.

A: THERE, I FiXED IT. Seriously, though, doesn’t it flow so much better without the em-dashes? What are his editors even doing? And yes, like Fractal Noise, this book had multiple editors.

E: MULTIPLE EDITORS? What the actual bleeding hell? How were none of them checking for basic continuity? Whoever they are, they should be sacked and blacklisted from the industry because that level of incompetence is absolutely inexcusable. Also I like that you removed the highly inaccurate “wise” while you were at it. Wise. Right. Now there’s a laugh. 

A: Honestly, I didn’t even notice I’d removed that until you pointed it out.

Now the king is slain, and the war to overthrow him is ended, and the land entered a state of renewal.

A: The abuse of tenses here is physically painful to me.

TT: It gives me a tension headache.

Yet even in this peace, shadows stir, and there are whispers of strange happenings about the edges of Alagaësia, and of these, one man seeks to know the truth… 

A: That’s the line I referred to earlier, the one that could be considered a proper argument in the literary sense. 

E: One, did we seriously have to go with the “But ONE MAN…” cliche which even action movie trailers have long since dropped for being far too cheesy, and two, WHAT ABOUT THORN? This makes it sound like Murtagh’s completely on his own (which he might as well be given how utterly pointless Thorn is rendered). The book hasn’t even started yet and Thorn is already being treated as completely superfluous. 

TT: #NotMyNamelessShadow

A: That’s not the end, though. Before we move on to the first chapter, we have to get through… a poem.

TT: Worse, a Paoem.

A: Yeah. Brace yourselves, folks.

E: Christ, what did I do to deserve this? *pause* Oh, right. That thing. *hangs head in shame* Do your worst.

To hold the center amid a storm,

To cleave or cling or seize the standard?

‘Tis a question troubles even

The broadest mind. A stand of aspen

Grows as tall and strong as the lonely

Oak. Honor demands, duty compels,

And love cajoles, but the self insists.

—Quandaries 14-20

Atten the Red

A: The first few lines of this are… better than usual? The alliteration lends it a bit of poetic flair that a lot of Paolini’s past poetry distinctly lacked. Unfortunately, it still falls apart pretty quickly. I think all of that enjambment may be intended to emphasize the confusion sparked by the “quandary” in question, but it doesn’t really work, because the surrounding text is basically an Ice Cream Koan word salad that doesn’t really tie into an identifiable point.

TT: What is it even about? Part of the poem seems to be about being true to your convictions, but the second half seems to be talking about the power of friendship. It doesn’t really have a clear message or theme. It was clearly inspired by Hamlet’s “to be or not to be” soliloquy, but lacks clear message and direction. The 9-7-9-9-9-9 metre is a lot more consistent than Paolini’s previous poems, credit to Chris for learning how to count syllables, but it’s not really consistent in the syllable stress patterns:

-/-/-/-/-

- -/-/-/-

-/-/-/-/-

/-/-/- -/-

//- -//- -/

-/-/- -/-/ 

Some of the lines are sort-of iambic, one of the lines is almost trochaic, but none of it is consistent enough to really fit a good rhythm. It is a huge improvement over the Woolly Goat song, in that it can actually be set to music, with some finangling, but it’s still not what I’d call good enough to be featured in the prologue of an epic fantasy novel. It’s no “All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter” (Tolkien).

E: Great, and now he’s going down the road of including extracts from imaginary in-universe books; something I’ve always found obnoxious. Also I really wish he’d get over this obsession with “the centre will hold”. 

TT: Look out for Chapter 1: Maddentide, coming soon courtesy of the wonderful ignoresandra.

A: I very much look forward to reading her thoughts. Until then, my fellow Anti-Shirts, namárië!

Comments

[ignoresandra]

The idea of using a prologue in your sequel to a series of fiction books with long established lore that you are publishing years later isn't a bad one. It's a great way to recap the story for old readers and make the backstory accessible to new readers without having one or more chapters that waxes poetic about all the stuff that happened before.

This segment does a decent job of recapping, but it recaps in much too general a way. This isn't in the Inheritance cycle. This is specifically a "World of Eragon" book about Murtagh. I submit that the prologue/argument should be told in-character by Murtagh to establish how Murtagh's perspective of the war differs from Eragon's and prime the audience for this being a different kind of Alagaesia story. You could do a bunch of fun things with that concept but it would help establish that while this is a story set in Alagaesia it is NOT part of the Cycle.

Now on to the poem.

To hold the center amid a storm,
To cleave or cling or seize the standard?
‘Tis a question troubles even
The broadest mind. A stand of aspen
Grows as tall and strong as the lonely
Oak. Honor demands, duty compels,
And love cajoles, but the self insists.

—Quandaries 14-20
Atten the Red

The quality of poetry varies wildly. I'm not going to quibble with the syllable number or stresses as it's a valid poetic technique to change up your rhyme scheme during the poem for various effects (Although the fact I can't discern why one line is 7 syllables instead of 9 isn't a great sign). My issue is that it's too difficult to discern the point of this poem. First we start talking about staying the course even though it's hard, and then it just moves on to comparing trees and virtues.

Simile and metaphor are time honored techniques, but you need to actually compare these things. This poem doesn't do that. "Lonely oak" might be an acceptable comparison for "holding the center" in a storm, but that's ruined by the out of context point about aspen.

[minionnumber2]

The idea of using a prologue in your sequel to a series of fiction books with long established lore that you are publishing years later isn't a bad one. It's a great way to recap the story for old readers and make the backstory accessible to new readers without having one or more chapters that waxes poetic about all the stuff that happened before.

It'd be a nice touch if Murtagh could go five seconds without reminiscing or wangsting about something that happened in the series. As it, it's kind of wasted.

[epistler]

We definitely spend way too much time inside his head. I guess some of the references to past events are kind of nostalgic and it's sort of nice to have a few missing details filled in, but it's at the expense of the story we're supposed to be following at the present moment. Such as it is.

I'm currently just over halfway through and the main villain FINALLY shows up, and quite frankly the entire first half of the book has now been rendered absolutely pointless. We did NOT need 300 pages of buildup to Murtagh and Thorn getting to the place where the main action is supposedly going to take place.

[ultimate_cheetah]

The next half is a LOT slower, in my opinion. And you'll have to revive your "Morontagh" name for him.

[epistler]

Wait...it somehow manages to get even SLOWER and this guy who's allegedly Murtagh manages to get even stupider?? Good lord.

It's become painfully obvious that he doesn't know how to put his protagonist into dangerous situations without making him so over the top dumb and klutzy (seriously, how many times has this "expert warrior and talented dancer" fallen on his arse so far? Last time he literally landed in a pile of shit) that it's become straight up cartoonish.

[ultimate_cheetah]

Are you on the chapter where Murtagh meets Bachel? If so, the plot doesn't get into gear until the chapter "The Bad Sleep Well".

Also, there's so many feasts that I was legit wondering how this tiny-ass village has all this food. They should have run out, I swear.

It's become painfully obvious that he doesn't know how to put his protagonist into dangerous situations without making him so over the top dumb and klutzy (seriously, how many times has this "expert warrior and talented dancer" fallen on his arse so far? Last time he literally landed in a pile of shit) that it's become straight up cartoonish.

Well, you have to be creative if you want to think about situations that would challenge a smart character.

Also, he does dumb things that are not supposed to be dumb.

[epistler]

Are you on the chapter where Murtagh meets Bachel?

I just got to the but where she claims to be the Queen of Crows. She's clearly supposed to be mysterious and charismatic but is just coming across an an annoying weirdo who's way too fond of listening to herself talk.

Also, there's so many feasts that I was legit wondering how this tiny-ass village has all this food. They should have run out, I swear.

The obsession with feasting remains. Remember how many times Eragon wasted even more pages going to endless feasts in book three? Frequently while the rest of the Varden was on the edge of starvation, no less.

Also, he does dumb things that are not supposed to be dumb.

All of Paolini's characters are stupid, but this is really pushing it.

[ultimate_cheetah]

She's clearly supposed to be mysterious and charismatic but is just coming across an an annoying weirdo who's way too fond of listening to herself talk.

Paolini seems to be mildly self aware in that he has Thorn comment on how much she talks, but she's still annoying to read. She just gives non-answers instead of doing what any competent cult leader would do, which is giving informational tidbits to lead Murtagh on and draw him in deeper.

The obsession with feasting remains. Remember how many times Eragon wasted even more pages going to endless feasts in book three? Frequently while the rest of the Varden was on the edge of starvation, no less.

And this is a tiny village where the soil can't support crops. Once again, how do they survive?

All of Paolini's characters are stupid, but this is really pushing it.

There's a moment at the end of the book, at the climatic boss fight scene, when Murtagh does something that is supposed to be profound but is actually dumb. I won't spoil it more, but you'll see it.

[epistler]

Paolini seems to be mildly self aware in that he has Thorn comment on how much she talks, but she's still annoying to read.

He has gotten into the habit of lampshading his issues without actually doing anything to fix them.

And this is a tiny village where the soil can't support crops. Once again, how do they survive?

He also still seems to have issues with where food actually comes from. Such as the multiple kinds of herbal tea Murtagh keeps suddenly having without explanation.

Fucking tea.

[ultimate_cheetah]

He has gotten into the habit of lampshading his issues without actually doing anything to fix them.

I guess he does read the reviews.

He also still seems to have issues with where food actually comes from. Such as the multiple kinds of herbal tea Murtagh keeps suddenly having without explanation.

Multiple kinds?! Where the hell do they get these things?

[epistler]

I guess he does read the reviews.

If so then he's not exactly learning from it. Or he's just too goddamn lazy to do more than weakly acknowledge the flaws - assuming he considers them flaws at all, which I'm willing to doubt.

Multiple kinds?! Where the hell do they get these things?

I HAVE NO IDEA. He's meant to be in the wilderness with nothing but bare rations and yet suddenly he's got a mug of "elderflower tea" or "nettle tea" or whatever with no mention of him even making it. It just sort of magically appears, much like the "flatbread".

[epistler]

There's a moment at the end of the book, at the climatic boss fight scene, when Murtagh does something that is supposed to be profound but is actually dumb. I won't spoil it more, but you'll see it.

And then there's a lot of really maudlin crying. I haven't read the whole thing but I did flip through it.

[ultimate_cheetah]

So you have a taste of what's to come. I clicked ahead a bit while I was reading on my bootlegged ebook copy.

[epistler]

It's sad really. People complained that his protagonists were emotionless robots so he overcompensates here by having the previously stoic Murtagh go wildly out of character by constantly bursting into tears over things that really don't warrant that reaction, such as visiting the site of Vrael's death.

[minionnumber2]

God the cult chapters are terrible. It's supposed to be super creepy and spooky, but we've all seen cults. This is baby's first cult. This is the cult you see on Sesame Street. Oooo, people will die for their cult and love their cult leader who doesn't love them back? Been there, done that, I've seen K-Pop Stans. Cult of the Lamb is creepier than this and it's got cartoony bobble headed characters. The second half is vaguely uncomfortable and that's only because it goes on for 7+ chapters.

[epistler]

I'm up to that part of the book by now and yeah, no kidding. J.S.Bach isn't the least bit scary and her cult is such an over the top cartoon I just can't take it the least bit seriously.

And now onto the torture chapters, sigh. You brought this on yourself by making every bad decision possible, Morontagh.

[ultimate_cheetah]

I mean, why the hell didn't he send a message to ANYONE telling them "By the way, I'm going to investigate something strange, and if I'm not back in a month assume something went horribly wrong."

I know the reason why: because Eragon would have defeated the cult, and there would be no plot. If you want the cult to be genuinely creepy, have them take Thorn hostage, and make Murtagh convince Eragon that there's no emergency. Now Murtagh's not dumb, and the cult is actually menacing and not cartoonist.

[ultimate_cheetah]

Exactly. They don't do anything really creepy. They act weird and cult-like on the surface and that's what they are in reality. If Paolini really wanted to be creepy, he could research what actual cults do. Show the cult acting all nice and love bombing Murtagh, who hasn't had anybody who actually cares about him for a while now. Show people being taken care of, all of them happy. A completely normal village. But Bachel's clearly hiding something. When that woman dreams about the White Mountain, Murtagh could witness her being quickly taken away, and when he asks about her, no one would admit that she ever existed. When Murtagh asks about the creepy dreams: "Oh, it's nothing. The smoke affects everyone this way." And then there's the gradual encroaching of boundaries, getting Murtagh more and more into their fold, trying to convince him to first join a hunt, then share his dreams, then visit the well, then join them. Make them almost convince him that the way to be safe, to free all people, to make sure no one goes through what he went through, is to follow them. The scary thing about cults is that they can seem normal on the outside, but are wacked on the inside. If we see something obviously creepy, and it turns out to be obviously creepy, then it's not scary, it's boring.

[minionnumber2]

Like, honestly the Murtagh presented in this book is the perfect cult victim. He's isolated, in a transitional period of his life, looking for answers, looking for guidance, has mommy issues with a cult that has a matron theme, is educated, he agrees with some of what they're doing and has something they want. I thought the character changes were going that direction before the plot did a 180.

There's a lot of clumsy foreshadowing that indicates Murtagh joining a cult. A lot of elevating the state of not thinking and being a part of a group.

[epistler]

My issue is that it's too difficult to discern the point of this poem. First we start talking about staying the course even though it's hard, and then it just moves on to comparing trees and virtues.

He has a habit of writing poems and songs whose focus and message keep wandering all over the place. Remember the song those goddamn elves sing in Eldest when Eragon first meets them, which keeps wandering between being about pretty forest imagery to Arya's loss, to bloodthirsty stuff about killing Galby? It's like, what is this thing even supposed to be about?

[ultimate_cheetah]

Or the dwarf song where they sing about the boat going over the river, or "Kilf's welling blood", and then the second stanza is about leaving home to go exploring.

[nofoxhere]

...So, basically, PaoElves are the fantasy equivalent of the Black Eyed Peas. Hmm.

LOL

[epistler]

🎵 Let's get it started in here... 🎶

Re: LOL

[ultimate_cheetah]

I've never listened to the Black Eyed Peas. Are they really like this?

Re: LOL

[epistler]

Dunno, I like their song "Let's Get It Started"