Wizard and Glass - The Dark Tower: Book Four (Part II)

The second half of the book is where things pick up and the plot really develops. For Roland and his love affair with Susan, things get passionate until they reach a hot, sweaty climax typical of western romance stories. For him and his ka-tet, however, things get super badass as they morph into gunslinger mode. And for the town of Hambry and indeed all of Mejis, things twist themselves into a murderous, maddening rage similar to what we saw in Book I with the town of Tull going nuts and Roland having to go full Cormac McCarthy on each and every man, woman, and child in that town.

No one is safe. The sound of the thinny is a constant reminder of the serious peril that lies just outside of town, and the witch that Roland deals with in order to protect his lover becomes obsessed with avenging the death of her snake/toy. People are going to get hurt; it is just a matter of when and where.

What I admire most about this book is how it is done, not so much what happens. King’s take on the game Castles, wherein you keep yourself disguised until you are ready to attack and come over the hillock, thus exposing yourself yet hoping you have enough momentum to impose an unbending will on the opponent, is a fictional game that is a perfect metaphor for what the ka-tet is doing with Jonas’s Coffin Hunters. After some minor peaks at each other’s offensive capabilities, Jonas makes a move and destroys the boys’ guest house. Roland isn’t biting. He feigns complete ignorance, a guise they work well under, until they are captured, arrested and jailed for the deaths of the mayor and his right hand man. Murders that were actually carried out by the Coffin Hunters. This is their “all in” and aggressive attack in the game of Castles. Too bad for them, Roland is game.

After Susan breaks them out of jail we get our first look at the real gunslingers. And my goodness is it awesome. The final 2 days of the season, the Reaping Festival under the Demon Moon, are the most significant, action packed, bloody and tragic. But it is not just what is going on, again, that is my favourite part. It is admiring the universe King has created, that I enjoy most. The seasons, the Demon Moon, its effect of putting people into a trance, bringing out their rage, all the while shining down on them like an evil, bloodthirsty god. It is so brilliant.

Many sci-fi and fantasy authors have created unique universes, sure. Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg’s Nightfall, for example, involves a planet with seven suns and a never-before-seen moon, and as people study the skies in constant daytime they contemplate the impact the sky has on them, and how terrible it could all be if their stars (suns in this case) were to align themselves in the ever-so-rare fashion that brings about an unrecognizable change. Meanwhile, fantasy books like The Kingkiller Chronicles or The Belgariad Series have fantasy worlds celebrating different seasons than ours but something we still recognize: growing seasons (summer); harvest (autumn); dark, cold dormant seasons (winter); and times of rebirth (spring).  But I don’t feel like anyone has captured it all, the ominous skies, the parallel seasons to ours, the wickedness you would expect from a demonic autumnal post-harvest celebration (Halloween, anyone?) quite like Stephen King has. Everything about it is worked out so well, so meaningful is each and every variant of the phases the Moon goes through. And I love how it crashes violently into the wild nature of people saying goodbye to the most lively, productive part of the year. Queue the insanity.

The Wizard’s Glass is another fine touch in this story, too. It is pretty much directly responsible for Roland’s threats to the witch, the capture of Susan, his loss of youth, the quest for the tower and several other horrible crimes he commits after he leaves Mejis. And it reappears, Wizard included, to issue more warnings to Roland and his new ka-tet of Susannah*, Eddie, Jake, and Oy. The Wizard is powerful, yes, but vulnerable, we see. After all the drama, Roland has apparently lost himself only to have the ka-tet bring him back to his senses. They are not breaking up, there is no going back, and they will all push on towards the Tower. A great continuation of the series, in my mind.

*Author’s Note: Can I just say (oh of fucking course I can! This is my blog, what am I drunk? Who prefaces statements with that other than drunks?), in a quick, unrelated, side-bit about Susannah, that as much as I absolutely despised her as a character when she was first introduced, mainly as Detta Walker, that I now enjoy her equally as much, if not more so? Not because of a monumental change in character, but because she remains an artistic rarity. Think about the character she represents: confused, multiple personality disordered, racist southern black lady who may be handicap yet is still as capable as a gunslinger. But in terms of modern pop-culture black protagonists, she is quite the opposite of what we’re used to. Django Unchained, a very unoriginal and uncomical take on comedy legend Blazing Saddles, tells a story of one African American’s revenge on a greedy, slave driving white frontiersman. Stephen King could have used Odetta Holmes/Detta Walker as his contemporary of the year-2013-cliché-racial-allegory-to-promote-white-hate-crime-comitting-awareness. Yet he did not. Instead, he uses her as an example of how horrible one person can be, driven by racism, and yet how they can overcome that, gain hold of their senses, and turn into a leader and key contributor to a small group on a very important mission. Almost making it as though whichever side of the 1960’s/1970’s race war she is on, completely irrelevant. And for that, I give Stephen King mad props. Because it seems it is just way too easy for people to in Hollywood and pop-culture these days to say “here’s a colored person who is showing outrage to illustrate how hateful/corrupt/racist white people are, let’s watch it happen and talk about how brave this person of color is, but only if the white people fail miserably and/or die.” Stephen King brings an element of not really giving a shit about colour, only pointing out that extremists lose sight of what is really at issue. But they can recover, and redeem themselves. For that, I tip my hat to you, Mr. King.

The Song Of Roland

Roland. Brave, noble Roland. Count of Brittany. No, not that Roland. No, not that Roland, either. And certainly not the one these guys are referring to, though that’s a great song. As is this, by another renowned artist. Brother Roland in this instance is nephew to King Carlon; Holy Roman Emperor (the First!) Charles; French King Charlemagne. You understand now.

From the moment I began my study of the Dark Tower Series, which is ongoing, I knew Roland was a special character. From the fairy tales of Childe Rowland, we can surmise him to be an adventurous youth yet sturdy in the discipline of knighthood and battle and a representation of true chivalry, putting violence aside in the name of his opponent’s life for the reward of his family’s life.  In the Stephen King rendition, he is a gunslinger of incomparable skill. Peerless. His quest is somewhat mysterious (we know it is to reach the Dark Tower, but where I am, I still do not yet know why), yet remains entirely noble throughout. In the dark, ghastly poem of Robert Browning, Roland is as much a victim as a protagonist, and though his name and slughorn can be tied to The Song of Roland, his journey is more of a nightmare and what happens when he conquers his quest is never truly revealed.

Roland, in most of these settings, remains a tragic hero. In The Song of Roland, however, I get to nerd out on Medieval bravery and complete lack of fear, where battle is the prime source of gaining renown, and renown is how knights earn a living; and knights such as a Roland, whom enemies and hordes of Paynims (Pagans) are out to slay, look forward to epic battles, live or die, as a chance to firmly plant their name as honourable knights.

The plot is simple: Charlemagne’s war with the Spanish Paynims drags on, and as he would much prefer to return to France, he reaches a deal with their king, Marsilion. Carlon will cease warring in France, as only the city Saragossa still stands, to send a legate to Marsilion and ask for his baptism. His goal is to unite Europe in Christendom (entire sixth through seventeenth century historical spoiler alert!). As the last knights to deal with Marsilion on a diplomatic mission were executed, no one volunteers for the mission. Roland, bravest and boldest and favourite knight of Charlemagne, volunteers his step-father, Ganelon, also called Guénes. A man furiously jealous of the King’s love of Roland already, not to mention Roland’s skill in battle, is sent on this mission against his will. Spite, self-preservation, and jealousy weigh heavy on his mind.

Once arrived at the foot of Marsilion, Guénes makes his move and strikes his deal. Marsilion will be baptized, all of Spain will unite with Charlemagne under Christendom, but it must be done in France. Absurd riches of treasures from the Spanish king will help convince Charlemagne that it must be done under Marsilion’s simple stipulation: that it honour the Holy Roman Empire by being done on their soil. Ganelon adds that if he would wish to defeat Charlemagne, he could do so by defending his honour and slaying his step-son who sold him out to certain death by dealing with the same blood-thirsty Paynims he happens to be selling the deal to. Lo, you are an elitist salesman, Ganelon. It is not often one reads of an instance in which a diplomat visits a combatants kingdom and tells them “I was nominated to visit you against my will, under the apprehension that you filthy savages would gut me upon arrival, so let us strike a deal for the sake of revenge upon he who nominated me for this trip.” Entertaining treachery by Guénes, to say the least.

By the time the treasonous, traitorous, step-father to our hero has left, he has set up Roland’s certain death. As King Carlon leaves for home and resigns this war to peace, as part of Marsilion’s deal to be baptised within the Roman Empire, Roland will no doubt be on the Kings rearguard through the pass atop the Pyrenees. Ah, those dreadful Pyrenees.

Here, Roland is ambushed. The battle begins with only half the poem remaining. And the bloodshed that begins with the first strike is memorable. A confrontation by two eager knights from each side, the French spear penetrating the shield, armor, and hauberk (chain-mail) of the Spanish heathen and bursting his spine from the opposite side. A better way to declare that war is on, and battle renewed, I am at a loss for naming.

Roland the Indestructible fights with the Twelve Peers, Charlemagne’s best and favourite 12 knights. 10,000 strong of these valiant, noble French vassals and princes fight for the Twelve Peers against the hordes of Saracens, 150,000 total. Roland mentions to his friends, in the end, that his uncle Charlemagne may see them all dead upon his arrival of the battlefield, but he shall see no less than 15 dead Saracen for every Frank.

Roland’s stubbornness is part of the reason everything unfolds. In a truly beautiful display of the Medieval stubbornness that signified the onset of chivalric deeds, Roland refused to sound his Oliphant, a horn of elephant’s tusk (hence the name), to alert Charlemagne and the majority of the French army that they are under ambush. Not until nearly all are dead does Roland blow the horn, his temples bursting and blood pouring from his ears when he finally does, and much, much too late.

Of all the Christianity blowing the hell out of a good story and making the poem seem like Christian propaganda to expel the world of the evil that is the Muslim faith and its somehow perfect ally and equal, Paganism (there are historical instances I will not reference here that involve Pagans and Muslims teaming up against Christians, hence the view they are one and the same from the Christian perspective in this story), there is still a very epic Medieval story being told. And though it differs from some of the other majour Middle Ages epics I read and favour, there are some things that stand out that make me love this book. Not just Roland’s stubborn knighthood, either.

The characters, for example, are interesting. Not so complex as you would prefer in a modern day epic, but enough to appreciate. Of the Twelve Peers, three primarily are mentioned: Roland the Count of Brittany (obviously); his best and most loyal friend, and not to mention wise and level-headed Oliver; and the surprisingly crafty sword-wielding Archbishop Turpin, who slays many a Saracen. They all have their say in the course of the battle and it is very representative of their character, even if it goes against what the ultimate knight Count Roland has to advise. Conflict like this makes any story great, but seems to stand out in a story that takes place in a time where killing in the name of your king/god was always the best course of action.

Oliver is the primary dissenter when Roland refuses to sound his Olifant (a horn made of ivory) to alert Charlemagne they are being ambushed and outmanned 15:1; but when they commit themselves to fighting to the death for the glory of their Kingdom and God, Oliver slays well. And when they are down to a force of merely a few handfuls, still with hundreds of Saracens in front of them, Roland decides it is time to sound that horn. Time to let Charlemagne know the battle is lost, but the war can still be won by the Franks. Oliver, however, now dissents to its sounding, swapping the sides of the conflict, and his reasoning is just: You put it aside to spare your pride and assure us all we would fight in glorious battle, and now that death looms near you would fear what you have sentenced us to and use it to ask the King to come to our aid? Coward! He will not be here in time anyway, may as well fight to the death and die knowing you did not go back on your word.” (Not actual quotes, by the way).

His reasoning is sound. But Roland has another idea, which is to sound it and let Charlemagne come – knowing they will die before he arrives – to let him know that they died fighting Marsilion’s army and that he should avenge their death. This is how it happens. And the ambush at Roncesvillas ends with the death of every French soldier, knight, and prince. But Roland dies a hero’s death, not slain by any Saracen but instead dying of his own body giving out after such an exertion of inhuman strength. With nothing left, especially after blowing the Oliphant until his temples burst, he collapses and his soul is carried away by the angel Gabriel.

But soon enough, Carlon’s vengeance will return the favour and it is swift, vicious, and non-discriminant. The Emir of Babylon, Baligant, tries to catch Carlon off guard as the French spend the night with their fallen friends and give the Twelve Peers a proper burial together. The plan, as Ganelon had worked out for them, was that the French would be too shocked and too emotionally distraught to fight properly, is a complete failure. The French fight with a fire no one could have expected, and before too many can be slaughtered, Charlemagne and Baligant knock each other off their respective horses and square off in a sword fight. Once Baligant is slain, Saragossa falls soon after and Marsilion’s queen, for he dies also in attempt to flee, is taken back to France for a baptism.

Ganelon undergoes a trial, which seems a bit more civilized than I expected of such bloodthirsty and emotional wrecks of knights under the Holy Roman Emperor’s army. In this trial Ganelon convinces everyone that his vengeance was only to have Marsilion defend his honour by getting back at Roland for what he did to him by sending him out on the diplomatic mission, thought to be certain death at the time. Though we know this not to be the case, the court buys it. Until, that is, a young knight, Thierry, challenges the knight defending Ganelon, Pinabel, in judicial combat. It is the equivalent, in today’s sense, of the prosecuting attorney challenging the defense attorney to mortal combat. The idea is that God will empower the side that is right and grant him victory, which seems more representative of the times than that whole fair trial bullshit. Young Thierry, against all odds and physically outmatched, somehow defeats Pinabel. Ganelon, now proven guilty, is given death by four horses pulling him apart, which separate each arm and each leg in a gruesome public execution. As though this were not enough to heal the pain that ails the King and his army, thirty members of the court of Ganelon are hanged just in case they also have vindictive tendencies.

Truly Medieval, this epic: spectacular battles, violent and stubborn, with great mourning for the brave knights that fall but never a thought of relenting as death stares them down. No escape, but no desire to ever try. The thought of turning back is more vile and vulgar than being cut open, maimed, decapitated or any other gory death. That is part of the great life and honour-code of knights that I enjoy when reading stories of the Middle Ages. The exaggerations and emotional sensationalising that the story tellers added to it never bothers me, though this book has that as much if not more than any other I have read. Also, getting over the Christian element is difficult. It is usually added to Medieval stories almost as an afterthought, just to remind the readers (or listeners, when the story was first decreed) that the good guys are indeed going to heaven, the king does indeed rule by the grace of god, and the enemies are indeed heathens, infidels, Pagans, Saracens, or some other word for Muslims and/or Polytheists. It is very typical of the Middle Ages, but the Christian element is heavier in this one than in any other I have read. And it is placed in such a way that it does not always fit. Still, the debate amongst scholars rages on as to whether this was written as propaganda for the Crusades (as some Crusade terminology is used) or as a precursor to the Crusades, before Christians declared war on all those in the Holy Land.

Important as the Holy Roman Emperor is as a figure in human history, especially the first one in King Charlemagne, I will still, for my money, take a bold, battered war horse like Willehalm in his epic, who travels to see the Emperor in person and literally slaps the hell out of the Emperor’s wife, who happens to be Willehalm’s sister. Really beats the hell out of her whilst trying to beat sense into her. At times, picking her up off the ground by her hair so he can beat her some more. Great stuff from a veteran of the Crusades and former prisoner after capture before his escape with the central figure of that story.

But, as far as this poem is concerned, it is an important piece of literature undoubtedly. Referenced by nearly every other Medieval story after it, as well as stories involving knight errantry and brave warriors in later time periods (Don Quixote, for example), this story will always firmly retain its place in the upper pantheon of Middle Ages Epics. So if you happen to be into that sort of thing, like I am, then I say it is a must read.

Wizard and Glass - The Dark Tower: Book Four (Part I)

That Part I bit in parentheses is due to the fact that I wrote so much to this book, I wanted to share it in two parts. Oh and I sort of read it in two parts, breaking midway through (which this review covers, obviously) to pick up a book for our Book Club, the CBC, which was Nation (reviewed last month).

We join Roland and the gang right where we left them at the end of Book III; aboard Blaine the Mono hauling ass through the Waste Lands at an incredible rate of speed. Blaine is a psychotic self aware and extremely violent computer system on board the at-one-time state of the art monorail, and enjoys riddles even more than he enjoys slaughtering everyone within the city of his resting station.

Thus far the series has evoked villains from so many different backgrounds it is difficult to expect anything but the unexpected next: old west druggies and undead folks; a crazed religious figurehead that turns to an extremist leading a deathgroup; zombies at the way station; a mysterious wizardly man in black; demon-fairies and just straight up demons; Jack Mort the insane violent psychopath in contemporary New York City; Guido Druglords; giant evil venomous lobstrocities and their lawyering questions; A giant bear that is actually a robot with some sort of disease; a plaster man that jumps out of the walls of a haunted house and eats people; and some wackos within the city in which Blaine the Mono reigns, unbeknownst to the wicked ruler we only know as Tic-Toc. Not to mention the monsters that the gang sees on their way through the Waste Lands.

That being said, this universe is very fucked up. Stephen King is a very cynical writer and most characters are either terrifying to imagine or just plain twisted. Everyone thinks of some pretty nasty stuff on occasion, but we maintain that we are mostly normal. The characters thus far, though, seem to be composed entirely of the very things we find repulsive in one another or, worst of all, deep within ourselves. Which is what I like about King and what I really like about the series. Not a lot of good people, not much in the way of innocence and sure as hell there is nobody who is remotely innocent here that doesn’t get side-swiped by some unfortunate turn of events.

Stephen King is also a man with children in his stories. Nearly every book I have ever picked up of his, save maybe 1 (Misery I think?) has a child character or a scene where a character is flashing back to being a child. And he loves cashing in on the discomfort of growing up, and also of being afraid. So after Eddie, against all odds, bails the gang out with nothing other than quick wit, silly New York humour (i.e. dead baby jokes), and a face melting explosion of shit talk, Roland is faced with the difficult task of regaling them with the story of Susan, the woman he oft refers to in his incoherent mumblings.

I mentioned it just now but I have been drinking so I will say it again, before we get side tracked with the legend of Roland, Eddie Dean’s trash talk is a truly magnificent piece of this series. Everyone has a weapon in life. Some people throw their weight around, some are gunslingers, some are quiet and polite but are real killers underneath with a quick hand and a lethal touch. Eddie Dean is a man I can relate to, though. His weapon is his mouth. His big fucking idiotic mouth. Issue him a challenge and the fight is over before it even begins, literally, as it probably will not reach the point of fighting since people like him are the sort than can break a man (or machine, mind you) down with harsh language so effectively that everything the challenger hates about him, he is brought to see in himself and absolutely loses his mind, composure, and all ability to maintain the upper hand. I dig that.

Back to the Legend. Roland sets the stage with this young hottie Susan real well. We are transported to another world - or another where and another when, in this series - and it turns out this one is a Western with a small Western-like town and a witch just outside. The witch is pretty nasty, truly vile in the Stephen King sense but also a bit comical, as she is quite terrible at being a witch at her old age. I really like the setting, especially as we learn more about it. Not just a Western, but a post-apocalyptic Western where some of the carryover from a world we might recognize (oil fields, tankers, refrigerators) make appearances but there is mystery as to how anyone could make honest use of them. The references to mutants amongst the horses, cattle, and pets gives the reader more hints at this universe, lending more to the debate of “our world that was split by nuclear warfare, or just a fantasy world that is similar to ours and then split by nuclear warfare?” Bog (and King) only knows.

It is better to just sit back and let the worlds unravel themselves. And pay attention to the hot broad that catches Roland’s eye. Teenage Roland, that is. And even a complete badass like him, the youngest gunslinger of all time, needs to have a good alibi for fucking the holy Christ out of a tragic young blonde like Susan Delgado; so he says it is Ka. “No, no, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to do these awesome things to her, I just have to. It’s Ka!” (not an actual quote from the book).

This is also our first real introduction to the character from Roland’s youth that we have come to learn is much like Eddie Dean, Cuthbert Allgood. The kid is a phenomenal character. Always talking, like Eddie, always trying to make a joke, and never at an appropriate time. And really, all Roland wants is for him to shut up. But the kid also has talent. He can talk his way out of a jam as easily as he can talk his way into it. Plus, he is a killer just like Roland. Very understanding of the ways of a gunslinger, even if he has not passed through his rite yet. Also a bit of a jealous bone, which makes him very human but very much the identifiable young, envious, right-hand-man to Roland’s young alpha-male group leader personae.