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The Riddle-Master Trilogy: The Riddle-Master of Hed, Heir of Sea and Fire, Harpist in the Wind by Patricia McKillip Have you ever visited the Sea Lion Caves on the Oregon coast? The cave creatures are the advertised attraction, so most folks blow right past one of the more transformative aspects of the site: the wind. Before you reach the elevator that plunges through the depths of stone, there is a mid-sized viewing porch that juts out from the cliff. Stop here, step past the standing binoculars, wrap your arms against the rail, and wait. If you stay long enough, you may forget you are human, as the wind strips everything from you to become you, until you become something unnamed.
"He tried to stand, but he had no strength left. The wind seemed to be hounding him out of his own shape... He harped with the winds that blew from dawn until night, sometimes with only one high string, as he heard the lean, tense, wailing east wind; sometimes with all strings, the low note thrumming back at the boom of the north wind." Author Patricia McKillip grew up in Oregon, and she gets the wind right. Actually, the wind and the wilderness "wastes" are regular elements in her work, and sometimes it is difficult to define whether the setting ever acts as metaphor, or if instead the plot is the metaphor, and the setting is the thing. Her books are always place-rich, filled with the murkiness of a swamp, the fire-pitch of a desert, or the wind-blasted lines of a rocky coast. But the Riddle-Master trilogy is unlike all of her more recent - and more obscure - stories, in that the relationship between land and soul and self, typically only implicit, is here fully reviewed and revealed. In Riddle-Master, McKillip creates a world and its law: land-rule. Land-rule takes different forms across the realm, but consistently it is a force that binds one man or woman to a geographical place, such that he or she joins intimately with that earth and with its peoples. Morgon is the land-ruler of Hed, a gentle and obscure backwater island that holds no stock in war or in prestige. Morgon is also a man with a passion for riddles and a uncomprehended destiny on his forehead, and as that destiny begins to wreak its way through Morgon's life and across the realm, a confrontation approaches that will define the human relationship to nature for the next long era. In order for the balance to be forged, Morgon will have to gain a knowledge that once permeated the human world: "[When]... our faces changed with every season; we took knowledge from all things: from the silence of the backlands to the burning ice sweeping across the northern wastes," and he will have to face the reckless destruction that is made possible by such an understanding. Sound familiar? "We did not realize, until it was too late, that the power inherent in every stone, every movement of water, holds both existence and destruction... We razed our own cities. We destroyed one another. We destroyed our children, drew the power even out of them..." In the language of epic fantasy, McKillip has created a world as it exists after the shock of reckless consumption and greed, a world that is saturated with the beauty of its own existence, a world that will be brought back to the moment that gave it natural definition, so that the choice can be made again, so that the land can still rule. Her story is soaked by intimacies with earth, with wild winds and marshes, with piney mountains and sleepy orchards -- and her rich, impassioned descriptions form an idea of land-love that goes beyond imaginative speculation, and an argument for binding soul to space and mind to place in a joining that is both absolute and of peace. |
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