Chapter 8: Thieves, Heretics, and Whores
The Edema Ruh were an elite band of entertainers. They were not just a mindless rabble of traveling gypsies, fortune tellers, and freaks. Most interestingly, they were sanctioned by the royalty that governed the land in which they performed; by Baron Greyfallow.
Wearing the Baron's colors of green and gray, Kvothe speaks of his talents as a storyteller even at an early age. He excelled at it. And now in hindsight, practicing these talents he realizes he wasn't just "playing games" as he once thought. His parents were teaching and preparing him. He was learning to learn. And because of the vagabond lifestyle of the Edema Ruh, they regularly welcomed random (and educated?) strangers to travel with them; there was safety in numbers. And from these people, through the conditioning of his parents, he picked up whatever skills they had to offer.
Kvothe then recounts a time when the Edema Ruh were riding into a small town and greeted by the mayor who was none too pleased by their presence. The mayor met them as if they were "thieves, heretics, and whores;" he met them as if they were not Edema Ruh. It was the ignorance of the man which angered Kvothe at that early age.
With graceful tact and effortless acquiescence, his father produced a document which held the seal of the baron. Soon the mayor came running back in a huff, apologized, and accommodated their short list of reasonable requests.
That was the hardest part about growing up Edema Ruh; we are strangers everywhere. Many folk view us as vagabonds and beggars. While others deme us little more than thieves, heretics, and whores. It's hard to be wrongfully accused, but it's worse when the people looking down on you are clods who have never read a book or traveled more than twenty miles from the place they were born.
Soon after the mayor let them be, another wagon rolled into town and again, the mayor was not pleased. Kvothe went in to get a closer look. Together with a constable, the mayor wanted his town to have nothing to do with this self-proclaimed arcanist. There were "god fearing men" in these parts. And when some tough words and a pair of sympathy lanterns (which gave off an odd glow) didn't ward off the constable, the arcanist called forth the wind "in his name." A gust of wind blew past the wagon, directly into the faces of the god fearing men as they ran away.
He didn't have papers and the Edema Ruh did. And on behalf of his people, Kvothe struck a deal with this man named Abenthy and welcomed him into the troop. Kvothe wanted to learn much from the old man. Above all else, he wanted to know the name of the wind.
* * *
Learning to Learn
Kvothe's life growing up as part of the Edema Ruh was not the emphasis of this story. And sure, the introduction of an arcanist and another reference to "the name of the wind" are both important, but I'm much more interested as its choice as "the beginning." They way Kvothe now talks about the wind sounds like he's been curious about this something for a long time. So why start here?
Remember that this story is the first story in a long series of stories. And unless every subsequent story recounts periods of times when he felt misunderstood and spoken down to by less intelligent me (which is entirely possible), his life as one of the Edema Ruh makes little sense as a starting point. It was Kvothe's educational foundation, molded by his parents, which was the focus. His capacity to learn how to learn is what I think will carry him through his life at the university. Then again, maybe both emphases are both equally important.
Flow and Emotion
Long time reader (and friend of the blog) vespreardens writes:
I find it interesting that you focus on the whole "stories lie" theme. It's not really something I've seen the fans discuss much, but I've read the first two books and it's not something I've quite been able to let go of. Then again, if you want to tell a real story, you have to bend the truth a bit or it lacks the proper flow and emotion.
I think what you say about "flow and emotion" is true. But "stories lie" is important to me for two reasons: First, I'm one of the people who try to guess the endings to murder mystery movies as early as the opening credits (which can sometimes annoy people who just want to passively enjoy the mystery unfold). Second, unlike the skepticism directed at the accuracy of Old Man Cob's stories in chapter 1, this was the main character speaking directly about the accuracy of his own short story (a.k.a. his note) who was then going to recount a much longer story shortly after. Whether or not I'm right about this theory depends on how self-aware Kvothe is when he speaks. This is something to make note of in the future.
Of Edema and the Names of Things
In modern English, the word "edema" is a medical term used to describe the pooling of fluid (usually blood) into bodily cavities and/or between layers of tissue. Whether or not the name "Edema Ruh" is intentionally referencing this or not depends on the origin of that word as part of the lore of the book. But because I'm a glutton for over-analysis, let's just say it is. What does this mean?
Off the top of my head there are no obvious connections to that definition and the band of entertainers described in this chapter. Maybe it speaks more their origins? Maybe the founders of the group lived through a much more brutal period of time that's no longer reflected in their current performances?
And then there's "ruh" which is just gibberish in modern English as far as I know. So maybe in this world "edema" isn't referencing anything in particular and this theory is just a stretch. But in a book of stories based on lies, maybe it would do the reader good to pay extra attention to "the names of things." After all, the best lies are always half truths.
Ok, Blogger ate my last attempt at a comment, so I shall try again.
ReplyDeleteWhen I decided to see if I could come up with a "translation" for Edema Ruh, the conclusion I reached was that it meant something along the lines of "swelling spirit."
While edema does refer to the pooling of fluids, its most obvious sign is swelling, and so the words are used interchangeably in medical writing unless the particular fluid causing edema needs to be defined... and I say this as someone who has spent a fair amount of time with medical writing, and not just someone who gets information from the internets.
That said, I did decide to run a Google search on Ruh, though I kept in mind the definition of its homonym "rue," as well. Ruh is an Arabic term referring to the spirit, and more specifically strong, deep emotions. Qur'anic teachings regarding the ruh focus on controlling these emotions. The English homonym, "rue," is also related to strong emotions, particularly regret or compassion. And if one takes this and moves it to the world of theatre, one gets catharsis.
The first rule of any type of performing is, "Know your audience." If one can do this, and has a basic measure of skill in their chosen performance, they can control the flow of emotions of those observing. They can make them rise and fall at the proper times with the audience only noticing the subtle manipulation after the fact. With that in mind, being part of a troupe that goes by the name "swelling spirit" becomes quite something. After all, a troupe that is catharsis personified cannot help but be the best.
That is, of course, assuming Rothfuss puts that much weight on names that don't belong to the wind.
Well, as long as I've dragged someone else with me into the bottomless pit of far fetched theories....
ReplyDeleteI've actually gone through my first year of medical school and have worked in hospitals before beginning school. And while the most obvious sign of edema is swelling, the most memorable thing about it that it feels like a rock. It's one of those things you never forget when there's a little old lady with one-way valves in her legs that no longer work with calves twice as big as they should be. While the rest of her skin is full of wrinkles (due to normal aging), the skin of her calves was completely smooth--like a stretched out water balloon. But unlike a water balloon, when you press down on it, there's no where else for the fluid to go and like I said, it feels like a rock. It's memorable because of how unnatural it is.
(I'm not talking specifically to you right now, because you might already also know this. This is just for everyone else's benefit.)
So I mean... either my brutal origin filled with blood or your swell of emotion or something related to some strange filling... I do still wonder if Rothfuss knew this when he was naming their merry band of entertainers.
I intend to ask him if I get a chance to meet him again between now and whenever. Rothfuss's writing is very calculated... but I'll let you decide just *how* calculated as you progress in the book. At this point, though, he's already shown some interest in the importance of names (the title of the book, Kvothe choosing to go by "Kote" for undisclosed reasons, but obviously thinking it is a fitting pseudonym), so him choosing a name that could easily point to a build-up of powerful emotions or pressure in the spirit and then giving it to what he's telling us is the best of troupers... it seems a little convenient if he *hasn't* thought it through.
ReplyDeleteI actually didn't know that about edema. I am not a true medical professional. I just make things medical professionals write sound more... professional, and less like scribbled notes by a fourth grader who happened to be raised on reruns of ER and Doogie Howser.