My first review of this book was a purposeful babbling. I was trying very hard to put into words something that I'd always been afraid would eat me if I did. I went and finished The Solar Cycle in a flurry of turning pages, puzzlement, and deep mourning. Gene Wolfe was wrestling with what I still wrestle with: the inherent dishonesty of mankind, the terrible mercy of the Divine, and a pain that was far deeper than personal. When I finished Short Sun I knew I wanted to return immediately; I knew this to be a terrible idea. Reading the books was like the most painful of soul surgeries. I would need to wait. I wasn't idle; I read and read and read and learned and played games and explored ideas and tried to change just enough. I had a bit of a plan on going back, reading-wise. And it was going well!
But then one night I had a dream. I was standing on an electric dam, at night. I was admiring this machine of power, and knew it to be mine. I had examined the schematics thoroughly and I knew this place. I was the master. As I stood in the dying sun's rays I felt confident.
I heard Gene Wolfe's voice, echoing above the crashing water. And my blood turned cold.
I followed where I thought the voice was coming from and found a stair, leading down into the dam. It should not have been there. I knew the schematics. There was nothing in the dam, not there. But Gene's voice was clear enough, even if the words weren't. I didn't want to go down. Staircases that aren't supposed to be there was weird enough, what was the ghost of Gene Wolfe doing in my dream?? But my legs started moving. I tried to stop them. I knew what was down there, I knew what waited, and I didn't want to see it. The lie had been so pretty! So complete! Couldn't I just be left alone?
There was a door at the bottom. I stood there, trying so hard not to open it. But Gene spoke, beyond the door, above the roar of the water. The metal of the handle was so cold.
An abyss of darkness. Gene's voice was no louder.
I felt a moment of vertigo. I couldn't, wouldn't, go in!
And then I was standing in the darkness. Inside the dam was only that darkness. Only! There should have been pipes, electrical equipment, stuff! My head began to hurt and I clutched it in my hands. A BANG and I was deserted by the door. Gene's voice got louder and louder, and I began to try and scream to block it out. It was something he'd said in an interview.
"You'll be a motherfucker or a saint, and if you're lucky you'll be both."
There was a laughter with the last phrase that always made my cold with terror. I collapsed, and felt the shifting of the dam. I was hit by a drop of water.
I woke up, in a foul mood. After a day I went upstairs and stared at The Book of the New Sun. It wasn't time yet, so I had declared.
My hands trembled as I picked it up.
Severian is easier to empathize with this time around. In the first read-through Severian comes off as an amoral womanizer. On a second read-through it's apparent that most of my impressions of Severian were a reaction against his culture; I had foisted my culture shock upon the protagonist, as if to blame him for not being like me. There is a funny tendency in modern liberal thought to ascribe the sins of a culture to the people who are held captive by it. We all have this feeling that others should know the truth that we, as liberals, think is inherent to all humanity, and we judge all others by those standards. This time around I was better able to absorb what was coming from Severian and what was coming from his culture, and how they collided in Severian's skull. And what I found was a man continuously struggling against his own culture. Severian was always questioning, trying to be free. No matter how flawed he was Severian wanted freedom from his cultural climate, and was willing to sacrifice everything to own up to what was inside of him.. The fact that he mostly failed shouldn't tarnish where he succeeded. And Severian does succeed, in all the ways that one actually can. Any further would require suicide or monasticism. He comes to the conclusion that nobody else would come to: that without the New Sun the rest doesn't matter. Humanity cannot solve its issues without changing the context it lives in.
The plot this time around was... clearer? It's certain that Severian was being watched, prodded, and manipulated from the word "Go". Severian is simply trying to get from point A to point B, and the rest of the world, aware of what he will become, is doing everything it can to get him their side. I can certainly see why Severian was chosen. His willingness to protect life whenever he could, to question everything that was in his power to question, made him stand out. And that's a powerful person to get on your side. I think my favorite "book" of the bunch is The Sword of the Lictor, where Severian winds up accidentally leading a rebellion because, I mean, of course! That's a very Severian thing to do. The Citadel of the Autarch is a fitting end, however; Severian, the one who always felt the limits of his knowledge so keenly, now has more knowledge than anyone knows what to do with. It's a good place to leave him. He'll bring the New Sun.
I caught the dying woman under the guild this time around, ha!
As I try to tie this up I find myself at a loss for words, again. This time around changed everything, all over again, just like before. But this time I was looking for it. I expected Wolfe to rock me. And he did. There are things I'm deliberately leaving out here, because, just like the first time, they'll continue to percolate in my heart, changing how I see the world. Ultimately you'll see the changes in what I talk about on this blog and how I choose to write about it, just like last time. The dream, that eternity, that I spoke of so brokenly in the first review isn't an external thing that I long for now; a spark is now deep down, in the recesses of my soul, where I keep the nightmares and darkness. The dam had been built to cover this spark. Somehow it had survived.
This time the spark wasn't lit.
It was blown on.
A crackling can be heard.
My soul is warmer.
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