(Mostly) Spoiler Free Thoughts editor’s note: i promise no major spoilers
In my last post I’d read about one thousand pages of Wheel of Time. It was the best of times. The ta’veren were scared lil boys traipsing across the countryside and flirting with tavern wenches when they weren’t being chased by ten-foot man beasts called trollocs. That was literally the best of times. Nyneave was a bitch, and not an utterly insufferable cunt. Egwene was bout to be rand’s bae. SPOILERS: NAH. Morraine drives the ship and we can’t wait to see how she saves the wold from whatever the shit she says is coming. Idk, some kind of prophecy or battle or Micheal Jackson “Beat It” knife fight reenactment.
Since that post I’ve read book’s 3-7. @sam and I have estimated that since I’ve reads ezclusivley WoT this year, it’s about 5000 pages so far. Questions arise:
How. How the shit did I read the same “story” and not get hella bored? Fam, how did I read that many pages in the, like 40 days it’s been since 2017 started. Why. Why notquit on it? If you know me at all you know that what I enjoy most about many of these reads is plot more than anything (and Kitai – editor’s note: see P’s Codex Alera review for more context), WHY do I continue to invest in a world where the plot mayn’t progress as fast as aw want???
Well, This man Robert Jordan is a worldsmith. That is not a typo. Between the Seanchan and the Carithiens and the motherfucking Aiel and the Domani, there are quite literally close to a dozen cultures whose intricacies trip up our characters. Every time they learn, comment, observe, judge, or cringe, I do too. I’m ouchea trying to pick up written dialect. Tf does that even begin to sound fun? Idk, fam, but it is. Entire pages are made of a coach’s description, or the patrons of a decrepit inn. When any sentence or paragraph ends, I wonder what I’ve learned or when this tidbit will make itself manifeset in the Pattern. Oh. The pattern. It weaves as it wills.
Our main characters are crazy involved, but I mean duh, they’ve had like 4 thousand pages to do it, ffs:
This man Rand is a dick. Between the fate of the worlds and the vocal presence of a legend in his sub and active conscious, he’s got a lot going on, pulling him from the sheepherder he was. But fam. Rand got hoes. What woman doesn’t want to give him the cheeks?!?! Prophecy after prohecy he fulfills (including the fact that literally three women will love him together (And hopefully simultaneiously? Eh EHHHH???); he is:
- The Dragon Reborn
- Lews Therin Reborn
- The car’a’carn
- The Coramoor
Rand fights the literal devil’s literal agents. The progression of that part of the plot is annoying slow if not necessarily predictable (through seven novels). It’ ostensibly what these books are about, but I hate getting there, inevitably, in the last 200 pages, every book.
Mat is Sam’s bae. He is a regular fucking guy who likes bitches and wine, and happens to be ta’veren with Rand. More accurately, he’s been swept up in this bullshit, to his (and, tactically Rand’s) benefit. He gets chased by queens and chases tavern wenches. He gambles with his life and his coin and, if I had to guess, I’d wager he’s the most vital non-Rand character in this universe, and happens to gain some crucial military tactical skills from a tall door. You read that right.
Perrin Goldeneyes is strong as fuck. Read any random passage about him: “perrin’ shoulders were mad fat” “perrin broke this motherfucker in half, like literally split his shit with a knife”. “perrin, if you hadn’t forgotten, is part wolf and shit so GAHDAMN HE ANGRY!!!” Whereras many of these things are true, even Wolfboy P evolves, to have feelings and shit, and love and stuff. I talk shit, but we spend like abook and a half not really seeing him, and I missed him and his hammer (— dick joke. Keep up)
852/1000 Whiskey Sours
I give this section of the series a bunch of Whiskey sours. I been drinkin, but I cant remember exactly what I read and in the midst of this black out I’m excited to see what I can make happen. I know it’ boutta get real but I also know a bunch of bullshit is about to happen and i’ll only care in that moment. I trust Robert Jordan as my Designated Driver. Even if I sick up all the sour mix cuz of thisbumpy ass carriage ride on the long ass winding goddam path he takes to describe the flies’ iridescence in a Podunk village I’ll only hear referenced once again, 800 pages later, I trust him to get me home to battle Satan for the fate of all the worlds.