The Dragon Reborn — Dinaburg Writes

by Robert Jordan

“Exclusively reading escapist genre fiction.” I was this throughout the early shelter-in-place orders, which was unfortunate since I get my books from the public library. Can’t rightly pick up the next in the series when everything is closed, you see.

I did, in fact, while reading The Eye of the World—Book One of The Wheel of Time— spot Books Four, Five, and Six in my local Tiny Free Library. But I passed them up, because it was February 2020 and I didn’t need three big paperbacks cluttering up my shelves. Spacesaving is what the library is for, right?

A few weeks later, when I saw another crop of Wheel of Time novels stuffed into the box, I again passed them up. I was just about to start The Great Hunt, but who needs that many paperbacks? I had plenty of time to request, pick up, and return, at my leisure. I cannot emphasis enough how much I love the public library, and how off-kilter it closing has thrown me.

interesting cross-section of choices here in North Beach

Turns out, I blew it. I needed them. The public library closed in mid-March, and local bookstores went down, and I fell hard into escapist genre fiction to keep the new “trapped in the apartment” phantoms at bay. Once I finished The Great Hunt, I would be left sans Rand al’Thor; it stung a bit, knowing all the books I needed had been within my grasp and I, reliant on a system I assumed would always support me, turned up my nose at them. I had snubbed the universe.

I was ambivalent on purchasing a copy of The Dragon Reborn, not in the least because all engines of commerce had halted and finding it would be a challenge. But I had stalled pretty hard on The Memory Police, and the library closing was a potential reprieve on its encroaching due-date. I had other things to read. But the quarantine itchies left me with a hard time focusing on anything that wasn’t, like the stuffed fowls said, “Escapist genre fiction.”

I got lucky when I saw that The Booksmith was still offering local delivery. “Support small businesses” was panacea to soothe my “non-essential purchase” worries. I went for it. I’m still not sure if it was inherently selfish act or a non-event on the cosmic scales. Regardless, The Dragon Reborn was delivered about nine days later. Once I started reading it—knowing libraries would remain closed for longer than I had originally anticipated—I was transported back to 1995; it was summer vacation, I was being driven around Texas by my parents, and visiting the Alamo was less a war memorial and more an obstacle to finding a Waldenbooks for the next book in the Malloreon series.

It is weird feeling of anxiety, balancing reading through a book quickly because it pleases you, but slowing down because there is not an easy way to pick up the next in the series. For good or ill, the third book in the Wheel of Time is where the series finds its feet. All the characters are who I remember them being: Mat’s not a jerk anymore; Perrin is a little boring; Elayne, Egwene, and Nynaeve start rolling their eyes with exasperation at “men” on the reg:

She herself told the men who asked her that she had no time for them. It was nice, in an odd way, to be asked; she certainly had no wish to kiss any of these fellows, but it was pleasant to be reminded that some men, at least, thought she was pretty as Elayne. Nynaeve slapped one man’s face. That almost made Egwene laugh, and Elayne smiled openly; Egwene thought Nynaeve had been pinched, and despite the glare on her face, she did not look entirely displeased, either.

This type of male/female interaction was light enough not to warrant comment in the first two books; here, characterizing women as secretly liking being catcalled and harassed is dated, insulting, and necessary to point out. Unfortunately, as the emphasis on saidin and saidar grows, so does the artificially intense and often absurd distinctions between men and women. It’s not a good vibe and I had been pleasantly surprised the The Wheel of Time had not been as parochial in its gender dimorphism as I remembered, but it’s all starting to ramp up again. Push past the “Unwanted sexual advances on women is good because it makes them feel pretty, actually…” moment, which has the bonus gall to be written from a woman’s point of view, and maybe things stay within the crass-but-not-unreadable range. We’ll see.

A part of The Dragon Reborn that I enjoyed that really frustrated me as a kid is that you’re only seeing Rand in silhouette; his impact on the world, direct and indirect, but only as interpreted by other characters. Barely any chapters focus on his perspective, which is a huge shift from the first two novels. Similarly to Rand-in-outline, balefire takes its place as plot weapon of ultimate destruction—unexplained for now, to be circumscribed more fully in later novels—yet its pride of place massaged my brain just enough to have a bunch of future book events tumble out in a heap.

harsh burn from the yt algo. accurate. but harsh.

And then there is Callandor, the magic sword that heralds the return of the Dragon. A great word. Unlike the sa’angreal and sangreal connection, I don’t see any direct etymological inspirations there. A reworking of Excalibur, or Caledfwlch, or Caliburn, or am I just stuck on Arthurian inspiration? As the sword that proclaims the return of the once and future king, you know it is going to be cool when Rand gets it. And gets it he does. Not a spoiler. It’s on the cover of the book.

Honestly, The Dragon Reborn is better than I remembered. Not seeing Rand most of the time is an interesting device. Having the plot broken across Mat, Egwene, and Perrin slows things down, but they all reconvene in a very mystery-novel-dining-room-revelation type way. I had no doubt the opening trilogy, like any story arc within a larger narrative, would hold itself together well. Let’s see how things go once the world begins to expand in earnest.