Let’s take a look at one
of the features of style Sanderson uses in his work. It evokes a sense of epiphany. Sanderson lays out certain ground rules, or a
basis for all the events he will write about.
He then has his characters and events take place within these ground
rules. While he writes, Sanderson
sometimes develops these rules into new and surprising ways, but always
maintains the element of reality. Well,
as realistic as you can get in a fantasy novel.
Usually there’s a great conflict going on within the pages, which
escalates until the climax of the story.
At the climax of the story, Sanderson makes it seem like his heros are
doomed—that there’s no way to win the conflict.
This is typical in most books and movies, however. The heros are placed in or find themselves in
a position of little to no hope, hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. This element is important to establish what
happens next.
After our favorite
characters are outmatched and it looks like they are surely going to lose,
something happens at the very end, right before they lose, that completely
turns the tide. This can come in all
different varieties and ways. For
example, the artist might die of a sudden heart attack, making the cartoon
peril no more, so our heroes are saved.
(Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference for those who didn’t
understand.) The bad guy’s machine could
suddenly stop working, or a character we’ve never seen before suddenly come out
of the woodwork and changes everything.
However, in order to make this turn of events successful and satisfying,
certain rules need to be followed.
Another way of looking at
the issue is: what wouldn’t suspend the reader’s disbelief? As soon as the reader needs to suspend his or
her disbelief, it takes them out of the story, which is bad when one is trying
to create awe. Taking your reader out of
the story limits the amount of awe you can produce, because the story suddenly
becomes less real to them, they are less invested in it. While just moments ago they were eating up
every word you wrote, completely engrossed and encapsulated by the characters
and plot, now they view it from a whole other angle, one which you don’t want
them to have. In order to evoke a sense
of awe in the reader, they need to stay in the story. As soon as their attention is drawn to the
fact that it isn’t real is when the basis for your awe becomes less. So the trick is to make the sudden reveal and
turn-around just a natural, smooth part of the story so that the audience is
not drawn out of it, so that they do not have to suspend their disbelief.
Brandon Sanderson does
this masterfully. He is able to take all
of the elements of his story and weave them together in such a way as to make
the big reveal at the end seem like a natural part of his plot, because, in
fact, it is. Brandon Sanderson once said
at one of his book signings, when he was asked a question, “I love big reveals
at the end of my stories when everything comes together” (Sanderson, WoR
signing 2014). While Sanderson takes
books to do this, and sometimes even entire series, such as the Mistborn
trilogy, he can also do it in a single chapter.
In his newest book Words of
Radiance, for example, he has several chapters that are unrelated to the
rest of the book’s plot, while still taking place in the same world. Thus, Sanderson is able to create and craft
an entire mini-story within the confines of his larger work. In one such chapter, he writes about a
character named Lift. I will use this
chapter as an example of how Sanderson is able to pull off a big reveal and
turn-around at the end, while still keeping the reader in the thick of the
narrative.
The scene begins with Lift
breaking into the Prime’s Palace. Lift breaks
into people’s places in order to steal their food, a hobby she’s
developed. Gawx, and other thieves come
with her this time to steal as well—everyone at the palace is preoccupied with
choosing a new Prime, and so most of the palace will be empty and ripe for
stealing. In this paragraph, Sanderson
introduces Lift’s enemy, who she calls Darkness.
Lift
scanned the grounds again, then glanced back the way they had come, into the
city. A man walked down one of the
streets leading to the palace. His dark clothing blended into the gloom, but
his silver buttons glinted each time he passed a streetlight. Storms, she thought, a chill running up her
spine. I didn’t lose him after all. She looked down at the men. “Are you coming
with me or not? ’Cuz I’m leaving.”
She slipped over the top and dropped into the palace yards.
Lift is able to perform magic,
depending on how much food she has eaten. The more food she’s eaten, the more
powerful her magic is. Lift calls her
magic “awesomeness,” and Wyndle is a magical being that grants her these
magical abilities. In the following
section we are introduced to Lift’s different abilities.
Wyndle
sighed. “Spread the seeds on the frame.”
She did so, throwing the handful of seeds at the window. “Your bond to me grants two primary classes
of ability,” Wyndle said. “The first, manipulation of friction, you’ve
already—don’t yawn at me!—discovered. We have been using that well for many
weeks now, and it is time for you to learn the second, the power of Growth. You
aren’t ready for what was once known as Regrowth, the healing of—”
Lift
pressed her hand against the seeds, then summoned her awesomeness. She wasn’t sure how she did it. She just did.
It had started right around when Wyndle had first appeared. He hadn’t talked then. She kind of missed
those days. Her hand glowed faintly with
white light, like vapor coming off the skin. The seeds that saw the light
started to grow. Fast. Vines burst from the seeds and wormed into the cracks between
the window and its frame. The vines grew
at her will, making constricted, straining sounds. The glass cracked, then the
window frame popped open.
Once in the palace, Lift
separates from Gawx and goes into the dining room, where she overhears all the
viziers and other leaders discuss what should be done in deciding on a new
Prime.
“We’ll
have to pick one of them,” the other voice—she sounded very in charge—said.
“Kadasixes and Stars, this is a puzzle. What do we do when nobody wants to be Prime?”
Nobody
wanted to be Prime? Had the entire country suddenly grown some sense? Lift
continued on. Being rich seemed fun and all, but being in charge of that many
people? Pure misery, that would be.
“Perhaps
we should pick the worst application,” one of the voice said.
“In this situation, that would indicate the cleverest applicant.”
“Six
different monarchs killed...” one of the voices said, a new one. “In a mere two
months. Storms...I almost think it’s another Desolation come upon us.”
“We have
stalled too long as it is. These weeks of waiting with no Prime have been
harmful to Azir. Let’s just pick the worst application. From this stack.”
“What if
we pick someone who is legitimately terrible? Is it not our duty
to care for the kingdom, regardless of the risk to the one we
choose?”
“But in
picking the best from among us, we doom our brightest, our best, to die by the
sword... Yaezir help us. Scion Ethid, a prayer for guidance would be
appreciated. We need Yaezir himself to show us his will. Perhaps if we choose
the right person, he or she will be protected by His hand.”
Finally, Darkness catches up to
Lift. Not only does Darkness want to
kill Lift, but from the following paragraphs, the reader learns that Darkness
is obsessed with law and order.
“I am here,” Darkness said, “for a
thief.”
“Do you realize where you are? How dare you interrupt—”
“I have,” Darkness said, “the
proper forms.” He spoke completely without emotion. No annoyance at being
challenged, no arrogance or pomposity. Nothing at all. One of his minions
entered behind him, a man in a black and silver uniform, less ornamented. He
proffered a neat stack of papers to his master.
Darkness’s sense of law and order can also be seen in the next paragraphs,
and this scene also sets up the end of the chapter.
The second
of Darkness’s minions stepped out into the hallway ahead of her. He held
Gawx. He had a knife to the young man’s
throat. Lift stumbled to a halt. Gawx,
in far over his head, whimpered in the man’s hands.
“Don’t move,” the minion said, “or
I will kill him.”
“Starvin’ bastard,” Lift said. She
spat to the side. “That’s dirty.”
Darkness thumped up behind her,
the other minion joining him. They penned her in. The entrance to the Prime’s quarters
was actually just ahead, and the viziers and scions had flooded out into the
hallway, where they jabbered to one another in outraged tones. Gawx was crying. Poor fool. Well. This sorta thing never ended well. Lift
went with her gut—which was basically what she always did—and called the
minion’s bluff by dashing forward. He was a lawman type. Wouldn’t kill a
captive in cold—
The minion slit Gawx’s throat.
Crimson blood poured out and
stained Gawx’s clothing. The minion dropped him, then stumbled back, as if
startled by what he’d done.
Lift froze. He couldn’t—He didn’t—
Darkness grabbed her from behind.
“That was poorly done,” Darkness
said to the minion, tone emotionless. Lift barely heard him. “You will be punished.”
“But...” the minion said. “I had
to do as I threatened...”
“You have not done the proper
paperwork in this kingdom to kill that child,” Darkness said.
“Aren’t we above their laws?”
Darkness actually let go of her,
striding over to slap the minion across the face. “Without the law, there is
nothing. You will subject yourself to their rules, and accept the dictates of
justice. It is all we have, the only sure thing in this world.”
Lift stared at the dying boy, who
held his hands to his neck, as if to stop the blood flow. Those tears... The other minion came up behind her.
“Run!” Wyndle said. Lift ran.
Once she
ran, she decides to turn back.
Run, her
instincts said. Go.
“You spoke of something earlier,” she whispered. “Re...”
“Regrowth,” he said. “Each bond grants power over two Surges.
You can influence how things grow.”
“Can I use this to help Gawx?”
“If you were better trained? Yes. As it stands, I doubt it. You
aren’t very strong, aren’t very practiced. And he might be dead already.”
She touched one of the vines.
“Why do you care?” Wyndle asked again. He sounded curious. Not a
challenge. An attempt to understand.
“Because someone has to.”
For once, Lift ignored what her gut was telling her and,
instead, climbed through the window. She crossed the room in a dash. Out into the upstairs hallway. Onto the
steps. She soared down them, leaping most of the distance. Through a doorway.
Turn left. Down the hallway. Left again.
A crowd in the rich corridor. Lift reached them, then wiggled through.
She didn’t need her awesomeness for that. She’d been slipping through cracks in
crowds since she started walking.
Gawx lay in a pool of blood that had darkened the fine carpet.
The viziers and guards surrounded him, speaking in hushed tones.
Lift crawled up to him. His body was still warm, but the blood
seemed to have stopped flowing. His eyes were closed.
“Too late?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Wyndle said, curling up beside her.
“What do I do?”
She set Gawx on his back, face toward the sky. He wasn’t really anything to her, that was true.
They’d barely just met, and he’d been a fool. She’d told him to go back. But this was who she was, who she had to
be. I
will remember those who have been forgotten. Lift leaned forward, touched her forehead to
his, and breathed out. A shimmering something left her lips, a little cloud of
glowing light. It hung in front of Gawx’s lips.
It stirred, then drew in through his mouth.
A hand took Lift by the shoulder, pulling her away from Gawx.
She sagged, suddenly exhausted. Real exhausted, so much so that even
standing was difficult.
Darkness pulled her by the shoulder away from the crowd. “Come,”
he said.
Gawx stirred. The viziers gasped, their attention turning toward
the youth as he groaned, then sat up. “Miracle!”
one vizier said.
“Yaezir had spoken!” said one of the scions.
Now to the
final scene, where all seems lost:
Darkness knelt next to her. He held out his hand.
“I saved him,” Lift said. “I did something
good, didn’t I?”
“Goodness is irrelevant,” Darkness said. His Shardblade dropped
into his fingers.
“You don’t even care, do you?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t.”
“You should,” she said, exhausted. “You should... should try it,
I mean. I wanted to be like you, once. Didn’t work out. Wasn’t... even like
being alive...”
Darkness raised his Blade.
Lift closed her eyes.
The end, right? Well, here Snaderson is able to tie all of
this separate strands together to make a satisfying ending. It turned out that all of the various parts
that Snaderson was dropping throughout come together to make a satisfying
conclusion:
“She is pardoned!”
Darkness’s grip on her shoulder tightened.
Feeling completely drained—like somebody had held her up by the
toes and squeezed everything out of her—Lift forced her eyes to open. Gawx
stumbled to a stop beside them, breathing heavily. Behind, the viziers and
scions moved up as well.
Clothing bloodied, his eyes wide, Gawx clutched a piece of paper
in his hand. He thrust this at Darkness. “I pardon this girl. Release her,
constable!”
“Who are you,” Darkness said, “to do such a thing?”
“I am the Prime Aqasix,” Gawx declared. “Ruler of Azir!”
“Ridiculous.”
“The Kadasixes have spoken,” said one of the scions.
“The Heralds?” Darkness said. “They have done no such thing. You
are mistaken.”
“We have voted,” said a vizier. “This young man’s application
was the best.”
“What application?” Darkness said. “He is a thief!”
“He performed the miracle of Regrowth,” said one of the older
scions. “He was dead and he returned. What better application could we ask
for?”
“A sign has been given,” said the lead vizier. “We have a Prime
who can survive the attacks of the One All White. Praise to Yaezir, Kadasix of
Kings, may he lead in wisdom. This youth is Prime.”
“As it always has been done,” the elderly scion said. “As it
will be done again. Stand down, constable. You have been given an order.”
Darkness studied Lift.
She smiled tiredly. His
Shardblade vanished to mist. He’d been bested, but he didn’t seem to care. Not
a curse, not even a tightening of the eyes. He stood up and pulled on his
gloves by the cuffs, first one, then the other. “Praise Yaezir,” he said.
“Herald of Kings. May he lead in wisdom. If he ever stops drooling.” Darkness bowed to the new Prime, then left
with a sure step.
And then I
explain this. In the end I’ll end up
adding more between each section and elaborating on many different aspects of
how awe is evoked. Thus this above part
will not just illustrate epiphany but other writing styles that Sanderson
writes with.
No comments:
Post a Comment