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antishurtugal_rebornThis chapter. This fucking chapter. It’s all been leading up to this, the nadir of what was already a poor example of an amateur fantasy novel. There’s only about a quarter of the book left to go, and you can tell Paolini was running out of ideas. He gave Eragon a genuine problem which couldn’t be instantly solved, but clearly had no idea what to do next. In a well written book it would have led to character development through hardship, which is how most good character development happens. But sad though it is to say I don’t think Paolini has or had much idea of how to do that, or just plain wasn’t comfortable with it. He has after all said in an interview that he was “uncomfortable” with the idea of harming his characters, which is cute and all I suppose, but the problem is that in real life it doesn’t work like that. In real life, people get hurt and it doesn’t magically go away. In real life getting what you want is only worth it in the long run if you have to struggle to get it. And sure, it’s not nice, but it’s how we relate to fictional characters – by watching them struggle and suffer and getting invested in that struggling and that suffering, all the while hoping they’ll get to where they’re trying to go and win whatever it is they want or need.
Meanwhile Eragon… well, we don’t actually know what his heart’s desire is other than fighting the supposed baddie, which doesn’t count because he only wants that due to circumstances and not because of who he is as a person. But either way he doesn’t earn the things that he gets because he never has to work or sacrifice to get it. Instead it’s all just handed to him whether he asks for it or not. He didn’t have to prove himself worthy to get Saphira to hatch for him, his magic is basically all-powerful and costs him nothing, and he automatically became special and important without having to do much of anything to earn it. The only thing he actually has sacrificed himself to achieve so far is killing Durza, but rather than struggle to find a solution for the whole back scar problem it left him with, he just keeps inexplicably putting up with it in between periodically fishing for sympathy and angsting about how he can’t possibly be any good in a fight now he’s – bawww! – crippled.
He could have found a way around it by using his wits to compensate for his handicap, but nope. He could have sweated his way to becoming a fully qualified rider in spite of his difficulties, but nope again. Instead we’re going to get this, one of the biggest Deus Ex Machinas I’ve ever seen in fiction. Plus the rotten cherry on the moldy sundae – bad poetry!
To begin with, we open the chapter with Paolini ripping off Dickens as apparently the days before the celebration are “the best and worst of times”.
He’s still putting up with The Back, which continues to make him ill and tired. But that’s okay because he and Saphira “had never been so close”. You know this is so because Paolini tells us that’s the case, he being the kind of author who thinks it’s okay to just skip over important character relationship development like this. (And he’ll still be doing it by the time the last book rolls around – this is why you shouldn’t ignore valid criticism). He also skips over some Eragon/Arya development as it’s boringly summarised that they spend plenty of time hanging about together and how they tell each other about their childhoods and Arya apparently talks about having witnessed “momentous events” during her time as the elf ambassador. What momentous events would they be? Who knows! Paolini probably couldn’t tell you if you asked him, come to that.
Meanwhile the elves are prettying the place up with lanterns and “bunting”, and more of them are arriving from elsewhere. With one week to go Oromis tells Ergy and Saphira to make something to show off at the ceremony, and they can’t use magic to make it. What, you’re only giving them a week? You couldn’t have told them about this earlier?
Back home Ergy has a think about what he’s going to make given that he’s not an “artisan”, and – oh, this is priceless. Saphira tells him the one thing he has that no-one else does is “Your identity. Your history, deeds and situation. Use those to shape your creation and you will produce something unique. Whatever you make, base it upon that which is most important to you. Only then will it have depth and meaning, and only then will it resonate with others”.
So… why didn’t Paolini follow his own advice? This tri- uh, “Cycle” wasn’t based on his life experiences – it was based on other people’s books and movies and he flat-out admitted it. With all due respect (namely, very little), this is why you shouldn’t set out to write a novel unless you actually have something to say.
Either way Saphira flies off and Ergs has a think about what’s most important to him, and decides it’s his injury, his fear of fighting Galby, and his admiration for “the elves’ epics”. He gets all excited and runs into the study, where he immediately starts writing without putting any more thought into it than that. We then get an insight into Paolini’s writing process:
He labored in a frenzy, not stopping for bread or drink, his tunic sleeves rolled past his elbows to protect them from the ink flicked from his quill by the wild force of his writing. So intense was his concentration, he heard nothing but the beat of his poem, saw nothing but the empty paper, and thought of nothing but the phrases etched in lines of fire behind his eyes.
…I’m just embarrassed for the guy right now. “Lines of fire”? Seriously?
It apparently takes him exactly an hour and a half before he’s done, and he’s managed to write fourteen pages. When Saphira gets back he recites the whole thing to her, and she kisses his ass about how much he’s “changed” (no he hasn’t).
And that’s it. He’s done. He just dashed something off in an hour and a half and that’s all the time and effort he will ever put into it. He didn’t set it aside and then read over it later, or do any revisions of any kind. Hell, he didn’t even spend any time thinking about how he was going to do it first.
Instead he just takes it to Oromis who says it’s “no masterpiece” but “an engaging read”. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, mate.
Oromis points out that it’s written in the AL and should therefore be impossible to read aloud, and Ergy says he can do it “because I believe it’s true”.
That Ergy is delusional is the only sane conclusion I can reach. And since when was ‘believing it’s true’ part of the rules of the always literally true magical language of truth? Oromis continues to kiss Paolini’s Eragon’s ass by saying “that gives you writing far more power” and “I am impressed” and “Your poem will be a worthy addition”. And you just know this was a young Paolini blatantly addressing his critics by using his self-insert to say “I’m not perfect but my writing is totally powerful and engaging and I totally wrote it from the heart so there!”
Anyway, with this wankery over with Oromis gives Ergy some FUCKING WARDS to protect him and Saphira from the magic of the elf par-tay, because during it “we elves are apt to go mad”. Oh really? I thought in this setting mad = EVIL. So it’s okay for Roran and the elves to go mad, but not Galbatorix?
Anyway, when the night finally arrives Ergy and Saphira go to the Murder Tree where they meet up with a bunch of elves who have “black and silver hair” because of course they do. Queen NoManIsAnIsland is there, being compared to a birch tree because why the hell not. Arya goes and gets Rhunon, who addresses Saphira as “Brightscales”, which I think is the first time anybody addresses her by that stupid title. Stupid because all dragons have “bright scales”. You might as well call her “Firebreather” or “Tailhaver”. Rhunon does however have the courtesy to address Orik in his own language and invite him to check out her forge sometime, which is nice. Finally someone treats the little guy like a human being. Uh, person. You know what I mean.
But never mind all that! Queen Island summons up a ball of light – the first time we see a “werelight” in the series if I’m not mistaken, and puts it in a hollow in the Murder Tree’s bark. Arya gets all excited and says the festivities have now begun and will keep going until the light goes out. Werelights have expiry dates?
The elves must have been taking lessons from their less attractive cousins at Hogwarts because they produce tables of food “seemingly from nowhere”, and of course they’re covered in “fantastic dishes”, and then they all start singing, and apparently they sing about “heroic deeds” and “quests” and “the sorrow of lost beauty”, and the songs must be magical because Ergy completely zones out and the party passes in a kind of blur.
Yeah, that’s called “being drunk”, Ergy. Get a few drinks down you, and the whole affair turns into a happy blur of wandering from conversation to conversation and game to game, until you fall asleep – in your bed or someone else’s depending on how successful the evening was.
…god I miss the days when I had people to party with.
He has vague recollections of dancing with some hot elf chick, and seeing magical fireworks (dammit Gandalf, get over here and put a stop to this!), and then he watches the elf chick “sway” while singing a badly written song:
O’er the peaks and vales
To the lands beyond.
Away, away, you shall fly away,
And never return to me.
Gone! Gone you shall be from me,
And I will never see you again.
Gone! Gone you shall be from me,
Though I wait for you evermore.
Ugh.
And of course there’s poetry readings, including Arya’s crappy one which she’s apparently finished, and some other elves show off cool stuff they’ve made. Even Rhunon joins in, and so does Orik. Along the way Ergy sees a bunch of bizarre mutant elves including one who looks like a werewolf (no really – he even has the freaky gorilla arms of a traditional b-movie werewolf) and a pair of elf chicks who look like mermaids without the tails, who are very clunkily described, as is pretty much everything else, and then this dude shows up:
He met an elf armored in imbricated scales like a dragon, with a bony crest upon his head, a line of spikes that ran down his back, and two pallid flames that ever flickered in the pits of his flared nostrils.
Riiiight.
He also sees some elves who are all weird and scary with pure black eyes who can pass through solid objects. Needless to say they’ll never be seen again despite being potentially very useful in upcoming battles and such. Hell, the whole “elves can turn themselves into mutants” thing will never come up again at all bar the very minor appearance of the Furry Elf in the next book.
But enough of that – it’s day three of the party and Ergy finally “chants” his slap-dash poem.
Predictably, given how little work he put into it, it stinks.
In the kingdom by the sea,
In the mountains mantled blue,
On frigid winter’s final day
Was born a man with but one task:
To kill the foe in Durza,
In the land of shadows.
Nurtured by the kind and wise
Under oaks as old as time,
He ran with deer and wrestled bears,
And from his elders learned the skills,
To kill the foe in Durza,
In the land of shadows.
Taught to spy the thief in black
When he grabs the weak and strong;
To block his blows and fight the fiend
With rag and rock and plant and bone;
And kill the foe in Durza,
In the land of shadows.
Quick as thought, the years did turn,
’Til the man had come of age,
His body burned with fevered rage,
While youth’s impatience seared his veins.
Then he met a maiden fair,
Who was tall and strong and wise,
Her brow adorned with Gëda’s Light,
Which shone upon her trailing gown.
In her eyes of midnight blue,
In those enigmatic pools,
Appeared to him a future bright,
Together, where they would not have
To fear the foe in Durza,
In the land of shadows.
So Eragon told of how the man voyaged to the land of Durza, where he found and fought the foe, despite the cold terror within his heart. Yet though at last he triumphed, the man withheld the fatal blow, for now that he had defeated his enemy, he did not fear the doom of mortals. He did not need to kill the foe in Durza. Then the man sheathed his sword and returned home and wed his love on summer’s eve. With her, he spent his many days content until his beard was long and white. But:
In the dark before the dawn,
In the room where slept the man,
The foe, he crept and loomed above
His mighty rival now so weak.
From his pillow did the man
Raise his head and gaze upon
The cold and empty face of Death,
The king of everlasting night.
Calm acceptance filled the man’s
Aged heart; for long ago,
He’d lost all fear of Death’s embrace,
The last embrace a man will know.
Gentle as a morning breeze,
Bent the foe and from the man
His glowing, pulsing spirit took,
And thence in peace they went to dwell,
Forevermore in Durza,
In the land of shadows.
Out of sheer spite, here is a poem from a much better fantasy novel.
It is time now to go down into the dales,
For gloom is fallen on the tops,
And mists shroud the hills,
Darkening our vision.
I cannot smile.
Not before, less now.
I cannot.
See, now that’s a way better poem written by a way better author who deserves more recognition. As for this one, supposedly it’s about Ergy and his experiences, but it doesn’t seem to have that much to do with him at all – he wasn’t “born” to fight Durza, nor was he specifically trained for it, nor did he randomly decide not to bother to go through with it, nor was Durza a place, and nor has he at any point met some hot chick with a glowing forehead and blue eyes. Nor do I remember him at any point wrestling with bears or using rags as a weapon. Quite frankly it just comes across as a big old pile of self-glorification, much like the Cycle in general now I think about it.
Predictably some elf dude tells him he’s “discovered a new talent” and Queen Island kisses his butt and claims it helps them all understand his “hardships”, and how they’re going to add it to the library and can he please read it again. At least there’s no descriptions of the audience listening wide-eyed in awe and then giving him a standing ovation.
After that Saphira shows off her own offering, which is a sculpture she made out of rock by heating it up and then licking it into shape. It’s vaguely described and then everyone claps and tells her how great she is. It’s actually a nice touch to show Saphira getting her butt kissed more than Ergy because the elves favour dragons (or at least pretend to in order to keep them fooled into thinking they're not the elves' slaves).
It’s finally time for the whole shebang to wind down, so Queen Island makes a pompous speech about how the elf/dragon bond was made and how Alaglag “lies under the black shadow of the Wrydfell”, whatever the hell that means, and how Ergy and Saphira have given everyone “new hope” (or dare I call it… A New Hope?). A bunch of elves get together with instruments in a circle, and Oromis tells Ergy to pay close attention because this is super important.
A couple of elf chicks, who are apparently twins, step up. Of course we’re assured that they’re “exceedingly beautiful”, because there’s no such thing as a plain looking elf in a work this generic, and one has black hair and the other has silver. I don’t know why that’s worth noting; apparently in this thing all elves have either black or silver hair. Oromis says their names are Iduna and Nëya and they’re “Caretakers”.
Anyway, so the two Janitors takes their clothes off – is this really appropriate for a book aimed at tweens? – and they’ve got a big dragon tattooed on them. They start dancing and it makes it look like the dragon tattoo is alive, and you just know this was a certain person’s erotic fantasy. Then they start singing but it’s also a super complicated spell or some shit, and Saphira and Glaedr start to “hum” along with it. I’ve mentioned it before, but I really hate how the dragons in this thing “hum” and “bugle” all the time. I don’t know exactly why, but it just sets my teeth on edge.
The dance gets even faster, and the tattoo comes to life somehow, and Ergy somehow knows it’s a living conscious creature. The thing flies over to him, and says “Our gift so you may do what you must”, and then touches the silver palm mark Paolini stole from David Eddings. This causes Ergy to go all hot and then he passes out, though of course Paolini doesn’t put it quite so plainly.
End chapter, but I’m just going to go straight on into the next one and get it over with.
Cut to Ergy waking up in his “tree house”, and the party’s still going. Saphira asks him if he’s okay and then tells him that – surprise surprise – “nothing like this has occurred before”. Ergy asks if she did it – did what? He doesn’t know anything’s happened yet – and she says no, it was “the memories of our race” or some bullshit like that, and he’s been “anointed” because he’s their “best hope to avoid extinction”.
Like hell he is, Saphira. You’re the last female dragon on earth, so if anything you’re the best hope the dragons have for not dying out.
Predictably Ergy says he doesn’t understand, and Saphira tells him to go look in a mirror. And then she just… leaves. I really think this is something you should hang around for, Saphira. Because it’s kind of going to be a big shock.
Or at least, it would be if Eragon was a person rather than an author wish fulfillment puppet. Which is why what happens next happens.
Ergy gets up and grabs a mirror, and he doesn’t recognise himself.
Basically he’s turned into an elf. He’s “smooth and angled”, he’s got pointy elf ears, he’s “pale as alabaster” and even glowing a little bit. You know, just like in the LoTR movies.
Any normal person would react to this by completely losing their shit, trying desperately to find a way to change back, and then going through a crippling identity crisis. Can you even imagine the sheer horror of no longer being able to recognise your own face in the mirror?
But of course Eragon isn’t a person, or even a reasonable facsimile of one. What he actually is is an action figure who exists to live out Paolini’s childish and quite frankly tiresome personal fantasies. So naturally his only reaction is to start admiring himself and thinking about how he looks “beautiful” and “like a princeling”.
As Toryll put it, “Eragon was an 8-year-old playing pretend with his action figures. Eldest is an awkward 14-year-old describing in minute detail the adventures and abilities and stats of his dungeons and dragons characters.” I’d say that pretty well covers it.
Ergy checks his back, and surprise surprise – the scar is all gone, free of charge. In fact all his other scars and “blemish[es]” are gone as well. He has a token moment of thinking about how those scars were “a record of his life”, but then he immediately moves on to thinking that who cares! No more old injuries to trouble him ever again!
With that little matter out of the way our hero now descends into egomania, as he thinks about how he’s “become what I was meant to be” and starts getting all dressed up in his fanciest clothes which are of course described in detail. He then strolls off into the forest and starts enjoying the upgrade, and we get some ridiculous shit about how he can count the individual hairs on a leaf just by touching it (what possible use could that have?) and hear the fall of a flake of bark, and then he starts stalking Arya. Saphira asks him where he’s going – or rather she asks “Where go you” because the former wasn’t pretentious enough, and Ergy gives the nonsensical reply “I walk between the candle and the dark”. I get the feeling Paolini was high when he wrote this, though not necessarily on drugs.
And am I mistaken, or is this the first time Ergy has talked like a complete wanker? Is this where it started? Is this why his entire mode of speech changes for no apparent reason? Either way it’s definitely all downhill from here, as are a lot of other things.
He follows Arya like a creeper, and it’s all described in minute detail which only serves to make it even creepier. If you don’t want your hero following someone to come off as creepy, then for god’s sakes don’t describe him following their scent and then spying on them in obsessive detail! Sheesh!
Arya spots him and actually has to ask who it is, and then asks “What have they done to you?”, which is an entirely appropriate reaction except that I don’t think she’s supposed to come off as horrified. Instead she’s pretty blasé about the whole thing, and they start walking together, after which we get even more creepy descriptions of Ergy checking her out, listening to the sound of her clothes “whisper[ing]” over her skin and how her neck is soft, pale and exposed (seriously). They end up in a nice spot by a river, and Ergy starts spouting horrible purple “poetic” dialogue about how beautiful she is and how he’d build a palace for her and so on and so forth, until she cuts him off and asks him to stop chasing after her because “you are young and I am old”.
Whereupon Eragon seriously asks her to “give me your memories, and then I would have the same amount of experience and knowledge as you”.
What the actual fuck.
It’s a mark of how desperate Paolini was to force this relationship that not only did he just elfify his hero to make him theoretically more attractive to his would-be girlfriend, but later on he seriously considered artificially maturing him as well via dragonball memories – a process similar to what Ergy has the gall to be demanding here. All I can say is thank god he finally got a clue and didn’t go through with it.
Arya says hell no and then says they can’t be friends until he stops acting like an idiot, and then very sensibly gets the hell out of there. Eragon starts crying his little Sue heart out while wangsting about how they can’t be together. I still don’t know why he’s so keen on the woman; they don’t have anything in common and she’s never been all that nice to him.
Saphira comes over and cuddles him with her wing, and the chapter ends there. I really wish Ergy would subsequently get over the whole Arya thing and we could have a romantic subplot with someone else (or no romantic subplot at all, which would suit me fine), but alas we’re in for the long haul on this one.
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Date: 2019-07-21 06:43 am (UTC)For comparison to the book I'm writing Kurnous, the face of my profile pic which is outdated, gets his spine cut in two and becomes a paraplegic at the end of book one. With two having him rely on a exoskeletal braces to walk while his spine heals, as it would take months for the magic to fully reattach all nerves, where he learns magic and fight with better planning. And by the end, thanks to constant healing and therapy, walks again unaided by the end but becomes smarter.
And I added that just to show how one should write such debilitation.
And why in the hell do they party in the middle of a war. I know in the world wars that some nation did that but they rationed it. Your throwing away resources to fuel a party while people are dying out there. A more competent Galbatorix would have flown at that time and burn them to cinders. Self centered pricks.
And the elf changing appearance is interesting, if stupid in my opinion, but damned by idiocy and, like many, why in. The hell. Was this added if it does not contribute to anything relevent! But it could explain why they have uniform hair colour.
And that maiden is most likely arya so it seems theres a retcon as the first book described her eyes as green but now it's blue.
And I have more ranting when our zero fight vandouche.
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Date: 2019-07-21 08:41 am (UTC)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e5rGhVhQaLk&t=0s
Is embedding videos just impossible on this site? Someone enlighten me.
no subject
Date: 2019-07-21 08:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-21 10:06 am (UTC)But just in case:
http://impishidea.com/spork/the-pao-of-verse-part-1-elleirabird-and-takugifian-spork-paolini-s-epic-poem
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Date: 2019-07-22 03:07 am (UTC)Damn! I wish I could do that back in college. That'd saved me alot of time instead of blaming my lazy ass on research and study each time I have a project to turn in to my teachers. /s
That poem though ... I've read it in french back in the day, and now in english, and man it's a gibberish mess. I have Vietnam Flashback-like memories how unconfortable and awkward I read these sentences. I'm not a poem writer (I'm really not into it), but if I have a choice ...
Speaking of choice, is that really necessary for Eragon to do this ? I mean, what if he chose, instead, not write that stupid poem ? What would happen in this party or whatever it is ? Or what if he decided to do drawings, or painting, or sculpture or papier mâché art ? What are the rules of this ceremony ? I don't recall anything except it's an annual thingy party for snobbish and fartsniffing elves, bored to death of their eternal lives to do.
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Date: 2019-07-22 08:13 am (UTC)Not really. It's traditional to bring along something you've made, but it just feels like some kind of highschool art show where everyone brings in their Popsicle stick Eiffel towers and felt and glue handpuppets for the parents and faculty to nod and smile over. It's got nothing to do with the dragon/elf bond - it's just kind of there.
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Date: 2019-07-22 11:20 pm (UTC)Especially if the elves accept to let a human participate in the event, like a stand saying 'No humies allowed'. That would've been interesting to read how Eragon sneak his way to the Murder Tree, using what he have learned from Oromis's teachings, and watch the ceremony.
At least the chapter wouldn't have been that pointless.
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Date: 2019-07-22 03:34 am (UTC)'Arya says hell no and then says they can’t be friends until he stops acting like an idiot, and then very sensibly gets the hell out of there. Eragon starts crying his little Sue heart out while wangsting about how they can’t be together. I still don’t know why he’s so keen on the woman; they don’t have anything in common and she’s never been all that nice to him.'
Because Eragon is such a Nice Guy. He totally deserve her love, especially without any effort at all to know her through social skills and interactions. /s
I didn't read both Brisinguuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrr and the fourth one, so I don't know if he even get Arya's booty in the end.
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Date: 2019-07-22 08:33 am (UTC)Now you mention it, that pretty well covers it. Who cares what he has to offer her in return, after all? He's put in the absolute bare minimum of effort and has made some vague gestures towards caring about her feelings, so why isn't she putting out?? It just doesn't make any sense!
This is why Pride and Prejudice is such a good love story - because it's not about a guy who gets the girl because he persists in chasing her after she tells him no. It's about a woman is proposed to by a guy she thinks is rude, arrogant and uncaring about other people's feelings, so she turns him down. He's heartbroken but gets the message and leaves her alone, and when they eventually do get together it's because he's become a better person and she decides she misjudged him.
Conversely I had a guy friend I got on well with, and one day he suggested that maybe we could be something more than friends. I said no thanks, I wasn't attracted to him. Did he take the hint? No, he tried again a few months later and when I said I still wasn't interested he argued and said I didn't know what I was missing, etc. When that didn't work he started trying to 'neg' me with nasty remarks about my value as a person.
Strangely enough, this did not end with him getting in my pants. It ended with me never speaking to him again.
Amazingly enough, they actually don't get together in the end. Paolini kept trying to force it, but eventually gave up and in the end all that happens is some hand-holding and a few tears over having to part ways because Ergs is going to sail off to the Grey Havens for extremely contrived reasons.
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Date: 2019-07-22 11:45 pm (UTC)Although, I'm not the best reference in social skill and social interactions. I'm basically clueless, especially with women. I mean I don't even know what to offer in a relationship (I suspect myself suffering from avoidant personnality deficit), and makes my writing a little bit tough (when two characters interact together, et cetera).
no subject
Date: 2019-07-23 05:23 am (UTC)Yeah, if you want to get with a girl one of the fastest ways to ruin your chances is by not respecting her wishes and opinions. Nobody ever changed their mind (at least not willingly) by being badgered or harassed into it. That's why door to door evangelists keep inexplicably having said doors slammed in their faces.
I'm not what you'd call an expert myself, but I guess in the end it boils down to whether the other person will be happy with you and whether you're a good influence on each other - eg. sharing similar interests, able to respect boundaries, willing to make sacrifices for each other (up to a point). It's complicated. But if a relationship isn't based on mutual respect, it's never going to be healthy. Eragon clearly has no respect for Arya, and she clearly doesn't view him as an equal. Ergo, it's just not going to work. They're not compatible.
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Date: 2019-07-22 08:57 am (UTC)Which is probably 80% white space minimum judging from what's stuck in the book.
And since when was ‘believing it’s true’ part of the rules of the always literally true magical language of truth?
I'm pretty sure the exact context Brom used was "You cannot lie." It might look like semantics but there's probably a far wider gap between "can only speak the truth" and "cannot lie," especially when you take Murtagh's revealing his and Erg's fraternal connection into consideration. After all, if Murty could only tell the truth, then wouldn't he choke on his words when saying Morzan is Erg's father? Or Oromis with "Brom's your father"?
He also sees some elves who are all weird and scary with pure black eyes who can pass through solid objects.
Eragon stared at the figures for what seemed like an eternity. He blinked once, and they were gone.
Perhaps that powder he snorted earlier really wasn't for him after all.
You’re the last female dragon on earth, so if anything you’re the best hope the dragons have for not dying out.
I wasn't sure wether to say this at the first opportunity... but unless dragons are really that magical, she's practically useless anyway. Unless there's still wild dragons out there - which I'm of a mind to believe - the dragons are screwed, if not from Galby's genocide, then from the inbreeding stemming from it. As I recall, you need at least 50 viable pairs of any one spiecies to keep it going without complications. And here we have at this point one female for two/four males.
My opinion? They'd've been screwed even if they have kids. It's more of a good thing than bad in that respect to have had the secret cache of eggs in the Vault of Souls.
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Date: 2019-07-23 06:12 am (UTC)That's very true, there's a big difference between lying by saying a wrong thing (acting with agency), and lying by not saying the right thing (merely an omission).
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Date: 2019-07-23 08:54 am (UTC)The poem would be a lot more "true" if it read something like:
'Neath mountains from Tolkien stolen,
Was inserted the Stu of Gary,
With but one purpose.
To be with shinies showered.
Nothing of importance happened,
Until the first shiny didst appear for reasons contrived
Something something bad guys exist sort of but who cares
Star Wars of the Ring let the Kissing of Butt now commence.
no subject
Date: 2019-07-23 12:12 pm (UTC)From a certain point of view.
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Date: 2019-07-26 06:45 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2019-07-26 09:34 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2019-07-23 03:50 pm (UTC)Just pretend they're all making fun of him behind his back.
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Date: 2019-07-24 11:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-24 11:45 am (UTC)“He’s pretty receptive to brain-washing, but he’s dumber than a walnut. Also, he keeps staring at my crotch.”
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Date: 2019-07-24 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-24 11:50 am (UTC)Yeah, I'm with you. It's so much better this way.
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Date: 2022-01-08 02:17 am (UTC)* Men tend to have thicker eyebrows, stronger jaws, and wider faces than women.
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Date: 2022-01-08 02:27 am (UTC)The way Paolini hedges his bets here is pretty funny. He wants his self-insert to become an elf, but wants him to look suitably manly at the same time so he tries to have it both ways. Really, going on the description Eragon 2.0 must look weird and ugly as hell.