Lord of Chaos
It's almost hard to know where to being with this book, the sixth in Jordan's Wheel of Time series. There's a lot that happens. Tons of characters and plot threads all over the place. There's also a bunch of repetition and some of the flaws are becoming either more glaring or just more grating with time.
I should be clear that the good still far outweighs the bad. I'm enjoying this series, and I'm glad I decided to read it. It's epic and amazing. The plot is fantastic, and Jordan does a good job of showing ripple effects. He also does a good job of yanking the carpet out from under you with sudden plot twists. He keeps battle scenes short and to the point, which I greatly appreciate. He builds up the chaos without losing sight of the smaller moments or the characters motivations. I'm happy to be spending thousands of pages (and what will surely become hundreds of hours) hanging out in this world.
But Jordan has a gender problem. It's sneaky and insidious and all the more frustrating for being such an accurate representation of many peoples' world views.
Jordan actually does a lot better than most authors in high fantasy. He has a balanced cast. Women have as much power and agency as men. They occupy a number of roles, both powerful and less so. There's no rule in this world that says a woman can't run a kingdom or a school or own her own business or provide for her family or decide not to have a family. There's a wealth of representation here that was refreshing from the first chapters and remains one of my favorite things about this book. We have angry, impulsive Nynaeve, joyful Min, proud Aviendha, somposed Elayne, wise Birgitte, and my wonderful, curious, strong, passionate, wise, favorite: Egwene.
No. Representation isn't the problem. The problem is this idea that there is a strict biological divide between men and women. Jordan has created a separate-but-equal society and that separation is starting to grate. It begins with the magic, neatly divided into a male and a female power source. No one can touch the other gender's source, which negates any possibility of trans* or queer characters (and I suppose someone can and has made an argument about Halima/Aran'gar, but they're wrong).
What's worse, and what became more apparent in this installment, is the differences between how those powers are handled. The male power must be fought, wrangled into submission. The female power is to be surrendered to. This divide is so twisted and gross that if I were to start writing about it, I'd end up with an entire essay. So I'll just trust you to sit there disgusted for a minute.
Beyond the magic, we're getting more into romantic relationships. Jordan sucks at writing romance. In the early going, it always happened suddenly, seeming to come out of left field. But it's deeper than that. First off, Jordan seems to think that once you've meet the proverbial One, you'll just be faithful and in love forever. Even if you go two years without talking or knowing if the other person is alive, you'll just be faithful and devoted. If you're a woman, that is. Men are apparently allowed to fall in love with more than one woman, at which point it's up to the women to make their peace with each other and figure out how to share this man that they're all so hopelessly in love with. I wouldn't really have a problem with this if there were any examples of one woman being in love with multiple men. But brother husbands just aren't a thing.
Once these relationships get going, there's a level of manipulation that makes me want to pull my hair out. Again, this isn't that uncommon of a belief. In My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Toula's mom makes a comment about a man being the head of the family, but the woman being the neck that gets a big laugh. And I'm sure there are some relationships like this. But they can't be that happy or healthy or satisfying. If I had to try and wrap my husband around my finger, if every compromise turned into a battle of wills, I'd opt for spinsterhood. The annoying part is that this is every single couple in these books. It's just taken for granted that men and women are utterly incapable of communicating with each other, that each should just magically understand what the other is thinking, that everyone will always believe that they know best and woe to the person who thinks otherwise. Nynaeve and Faile are the worst offenders (I just wanted to hug poor Perrin by the end of this book), but everyone does it to some extent.
All this gender stuff is annoying, in the way it's annoying in the real world. For the most part it's background noise. Always there, but in a way that doesn't really detract from the story. I can mostly ignore it or roll my eyes and let the excitement of the battle between Good and Evil sweep me away. But then someone says or does something and I just have to step away for a few minutes.
All this to say that, while I am excited about the next book and determined to see this series through, I may be talking a longer break than normal before plunging into the seventh book. I need a serious palate cleanser, and some time to get excited about Rand's plans and Egwene's promotion and such before I can go on.
I should be clear that the good still far outweighs the bad. I'm enjoying this series, and I'm glad I decided to read it. It's epic and amazing. The plot is fantastic, and Jordan does a good job of showing ripple effects. He also does a good job of yanking the carpet out from under you with sudden plot twists. He keeps battle scenes short and to the point, which I greatly appreciate. He builds up the chaos without losing sight of the smaller moments or the characters motivations. I'm happy to be spending thousands of pages (and what will surely become hundreds of hours) hanging out in this world.
But Jordan has a gender problem. It's sneaky and insidious and all the more frustrating for being such an accurate representation of many peoples' world views.
Jordan actually does a lot better than most authors in high fantasy. He has a balanced cast. Women have as much power and agency as men. They occupy a number of roles, both powerful and less so. There's no rule in this world that says a woman can't run a kingdom or a school or own her own business or provide for her family or decide not to have a family. There's a wealth of representation here that was refreshing from the first chapters and remains one of my favorite things about this book. We have angry, impulsive Nynaeve, joyful Min, proud Aviendha, somposed Elayne, wise Birgitte, and my wonderful, curious, strong, passionate, wise, favorite: Egwene.
No. Representation isn't the problem. The problem is this idea that there is a strict biological divide between men and women. Jordan has created a separate-but-equal society and that separation is starting to grate. It begins with the magic, neatly divided into a male and a female power source. No one can touch the other gender's source, which negates any possibility of trans* or queer characters (and I suppose someone can and has made an argument about Halima/Aran'gar, but they're wrong).
What's worse, and what became more apparent in this installment, is the differences between how those powers are handled. The male power must be fought, wrangled into submission. The female power is to be surrendered to. This divide is so twisted and gross that if I were to start writing about it, I'd end up with an entire essay. So I'll just trust you to sit there disgusted for a minute.
Beyond the magic, we're getting more into romantic relationships. Jordan sucks at writing romance. In the early going, it always happened suddenly, seeming to come out of left field. But it's deeper than that. First off, Jordan seems to think that once you've meet the proverbial One, you'll just be faithful and in love forever. Even if you go two years without talking or knowing if the other person is alive, you'll just be faithful and devoted. If you're a woman, that is. Men are apparently allowed to fall in love with more than one woman, at which point it's up to the women to make their peace with each other and figure out how to share this man that they're all so hopelessly in love with. I wouldn't really have a problem with this if there were any examples of one woman being in love with multiple men. But brother husbands just aren't a thing.
Once these relationships get going, there's a level of manipulation that makes me want to pull my hair out. Again, this isn't that uncommon of a belief. In My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Toula's mom makes a comment about a man being the head of the family, but the woman being the neck that gets a big laugh. And I'm sure there are some relationships like this. But they can't be that happy or healthy or satisfying. If I had to try and wrap my husband around my finger, if every compromise turned into a battle of wills, I'd opt for spinsterhood. The annoying part is that this is every single couple in these books. It's just taken for granted that men and women are utterly incapable of communicating with each other, that each should just magically understand what the other is thinking, that everyone will always believe that they know best and woe to the person who thinks otherwise. Nynaeve and Faile are the worst offenders (I just wanted to hug poor Perrin by the end of this book), but everyone does it to some extent.
All this gender stuff is annoying, in the way it's annoying in the real world. For the most part it's background noise. Always there, but in a way that doesn't really detract from the story. I can mostly ignore it or roll my eyes and let the excitement of the battle between Good and Evil sweep me away. But then someone says or does something and I just have to step away for a few minutes.
All this to say that, while I am excited about the next book and determined to see this series through, I may be talking a longer break than normal before plunging into the seventh book. I need a serious palate cleanser, and some time to get excited about Rand's plans and Egwene's promotion and such before I can go on.
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