jas makes places

The interesting thing about the Pazyryks to me was the meaning behind tattoos and flesh. “The skin represents the interface between the self and the world, and tattoos upon it serve to bring into consciousness images and ideas that are culturally or personally important.” (188) I think that tattoos would have such a strong place in the mindset of people for many reasons. One being the process of having this mark on their body and the symbolism of getting one within their community. “If this was the case then as the horses themselves marked significant events in the humans’ lives, the horses’ own deaths would be inscribed upon their humans’ bodies.” (189) It seems that horses played such a massive role in their lives if they would have such respect for these creatures. This reminds me of dogs to a lesser extent that we might relate to now. We have such strong bonds with these animals and I can see people generating stronger bonds to animals they would have worked with for large amounts of time.

It seems as if “cosmic destiny” and “fate” took the side of Palmyra (Finlayson). Palmyra sat in a strategic military position and Rome’s need for caravan trade, mostly silk, “guaranteed high status” to women and “vibrant political and social” roles to them too (Finlayson). I’m fascinated that silk developed in China during the Han Dynasty flowed through trade routes which carried it through Palmyra and thus enabled Palmyra to flourish. The access to silk empowered those with the skill to embroider and work this resource which enhanced the importance of Palmyra to buyers in Rome and elevated women in Palmyran culture. Geography met opportunity as only the “cosmic weave” could predict. The cultivation of moths who just happen to produce a usable cloth making substance when boiled in their pupal stage in China led to skilled workers in the region to develop techniques to make textile from this silk. Skill and material evolved in quality over time and met with demand across a massive continent and necessitated long trade routes. Geographic and political factors forced the trade route through Palmyra. Silk transformed Palmyra and Palmyra transformed the silk in the city. This relationship between material and location encouraged the development of skills to take advantage of this opportunity. Anywhere along the silkroad could have developed the skills to improve the textiles or take advantage of economic power of this trade. If other civilizations did this, it would have eroded Palmyra’s importance. However, this did not happen and the demand for Palmyran embroidery even drove China to send less ornate textiles to Palmyra so that Palmyran’s could improve them. Palmyra received a gift from “fate” in the form of geography and China’s silk trade, but the women of Palmyra also wove their own “cosmic destiny” (Finlayson).

A signal example of Arhu considering the emptiness of the religion she perpetuates, is when she sees the Undertomb illuminated for the first time. She has never brought light into the Undertomb because that’s what she had been told, and what she’d always done. When she does, she begs repentance, “yet even as she prayed, in her mind’s eye she saw the quivering radiance of the lighted cavern, life in the place of death” (89). She is realizing realizes how beautiful and mysterious the Undertomb is when illuminated. What if the space had originally been meant to be seen? How was she to know that the ritual of total darkness was any more honoring than light? All she had were the teachings of her predecessors who may or may not have been true believers.

Telling a story from Arha’s perspective allows the readers to get to know the Kargish people, who have only been shown briefly and from a biased point of view. We get to learn about their biases and their nation’s shortcomings, which really helps to build the world of Earthsea. I haven’t read the rest of Tombs, but I’m excited to learn whether the Nameless Ones actually do have the power that Arha believes they have.

Often, as Ursula Le Guin Suggests, we think of good and evil as black and white. Things are always one or the other. In her discussion of The child and the Shadow, she goes on to suggest that we consider how this is not usually the case. It turns out that almost everything ends up being shades of grey. She also goes on to discuss at some length the Jungian concept of “The Shadow”. While she does a great job of distilling the concept I think there are a few more points that can be highlighted. Mainly that the Shadow consists of the aspects of a person that are not clearly known to them/their ego. This means that most people tend to think of the Shadow as a collection of mostly negative things about humanity and themselves. In reality, the Shadow can contain. positive qualities as well. Jung remarks “Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” (Psychology and Religion, pg. 131). This suggests that regardless of the nature of the Shadow, the more it is ignored and separated from the conscious mind, the more evil it is. Jung’s psychology also discusses merging with one’s Shadow, an event where the Shadow overwhelms the person and controls their actions, temporarily superseding the ego. This is very reminiscent of Ged’s multiple encounters with his Shadow, where it overpowers him. Finally, however, Ged merges with his shadow, accepting it as a part of himself. Jung calls this Assimilation, where the person retains awareness of their Shadow and how it influences and shapes them as a person. I think it is very clear from these comparisons that Ged’s shadow is indeed a representation of Jungian Psychology, and its connections to the ideas of balance. I’m very interested to see if she explores more psychology in the sequel Earthsea books. 

p.s. Did anyone else get crazy Frankenstein vibes watching Ged pursue his creation across the sea before it could get back at him again?

First interpretation of the world building of Earthsea compared to that of Middle Earth is that Ursula Le Guin is good at getting to the point… ehem… At first glance, Ged’s home is not much like the Shire in terms of appearance. It doesn’t necessarily feel as isolated, and she describes it as being near mountains and forests, which the characters within the world don’t seem to be too warry of. In fact, when under threat, they “Fled up the ravines and hid in the forest” (10). There are some similarities, though, namely I found that both cultures are peaceful, for in the same instance, Ged’s village was caught off guard by the attack as “There had been no weapons in the village but hunting bows and short knives, for the mountain folk of Gont are not warlike” (10). Similarly to the Shire, Gont does not expect war nor does it prepare for it.

Tolkien's harrowing experiences at the Battle of the Somme (Livingston, 2006) doubtless had connections to the events both written and depicted in The Lord of the Rings. From the souls floating cold and terrified in the Dead Marshes, to the huge battles for Isengard and Gondor. His real life experiences give rise to his ability for understanding and representing such intense events. Something that sets The Lord of the Rings apart from other fantasy genres is its intensity both in scale and lore. Tolkien is among the rare few who has seen what the surroundings of the end of the world looks like and has managed to implement elements of it into text. Frodo is an example of a representation of how one would act having survived events such as he has, coming from the background he had (Livingston, 2006).

It’s always been interesting to me to think about how evil always ends up looking the other way when it comes to stories. Of course, this is partly because most of the time, good will win, and in order for them to win, the villain typically needs to be unaware and vulnerable in some way. It just so happens that this vulnerability is, a lot of the time, them simply looking in the wrong place. In the LOTR, Gollum says that the Eye of Sauron is always watching the main road leading up to the gates, and that “His Eye watches that way all the time” (pg. 625). I feel like he’s always watching that direction because it’s where he is the most vulnerable. Villain or not, people will usually think more about what they feel the most vulnerable in just because it’s the nature of having insecurities. With villains, I can imagine that that is only heightened because of the amount of power they may feel they have to hold on to. Although Sauron may seem extremely powerful, it’s that power that may be his weakness; he has more to lose, and he knows it. There is also the other point of the amount of self-confidence power brings. Sauron most likely thinks himself superior to other beings, and so underestimates them and thinks they would all try to get through the main gate. One of the main ideas of the LOTR trilogy however is that the very creatures and people he would underestimate the most are the ones that eventually destroy the ring and all of Sauron’s power. These Hobbits don’t have any power to lose, which is part of the reason they end up destroying the Eye of Sauron.

One of the sections that struck me about the Hume article was how the hall represents a sense of “pattern and order,” constructed by “all the ceremony, all the elaborate beauty of hall-treasures and decorations” and “the music and the stories of past heroes” (Hume 66). In the midst of uncertainty and tumultuous times (we can see that those who slept in the hall slept warily and in constant fear that the hall would be attacked), the hall seemed to serve as a refuge, the idea of epic heroes and chivalry brought to life. Theoden’s halls too are richly decorated with different colors and patterns, but also the reflections of a storied past. Over the spaces of the tapestries “marched figures of ancient legend,” with our attention drawn to an evocative image of Eorl the Young, the founding king of Rohan (510). Earlier too, Aragorn recites the words of an ancient poet about the same king, contributing to this conception of the hall as a place where the past and present mingle. It is here that Theoden feels the weight of his ancestors’ legacy most strongly, through ceremony and song. Like the hall that served as a refuge from the “chaos” of the outside, so too does the ceremonial drinking and gift-giving at Meduseld offer a measure of comfort from the news of impending war.