Stephen Reeder Donaldson is an American fantasy, science fiction, and mystery novelist; in the United Kingdom he is usually called "Stephen Donaldson" (without the "R"). He has also written non-fiction under the pen name Reed Stephens.
EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION:
Stephen R. Donaldson was born May 13, 1947 in Cleveland, Ohio. His father, James, was a medical missionary and his mother, Ruth, a prosthetist (a person skilled in making or fitting prosthetic devices). Donaldson spent the years between the ages of 3 and 16 living in India, where his father was working as an orthopaedic surgeon. Donaldson earned his bachelor's degree from The College of Wooster and master's degree from Kent State University.
INSPIRATIONS:
Donaldson's work is heavily influenced by other fantasy authors such as J.R.R. Tolkien, Roger Zelazny, Joseph Conrad, Henry James, and William Faulkner. The writers he most admires are Patricia A. McKillip, Steven Erikson, and Tim Powers.
It is believed that a speech his father made on leprosy (whilst working with lepers in India) led to Donaldson's creation of Thomas Covenant, the anti-hero of his most famous work (Thomas Covenant). The first book in that series, Lord Foul's Bane, received 47 rejections before a publisher agreed to publish it.
PROMINENT WORK: Stephen Donaldson came to prominence in 1977 with the The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, which is centred around a leper shunned by society and his trials and tribulations as his destiny unfolds. These books established Donaldson as one of the most important figures in modern fantasy fiction.
PERSONAL LIFE: He currently resides in New Mexico.
I enjoyed the Second Chronicles even more than I did the first, as the conceit of Foul's millennia-in-the-making plan to bleach the Land of its inherent Earthpower through the Sunbane—and administered through the banefire auspices of the Gibbon-Raver-led Clave—as a corruption stemming from Foul's original defeat by TC proved to be, for me, an effective, even enhancing twist to the series. Furthermore, in addition to the self-loathing and lacerating personality of the eternally-tormented and leprotic Covenant we get Dr. Linden Avery, a physician with her own baggage—stuffed to bursting with shards of jagged, broken glass and the acrid smell of burning lye—who carries a guilt for not having loved her parents sufficiently to redeem them and a burgeoning talent for taking possession of other's minds, that makes her—in the end—perhaps even more of a fascinating anti-hero than the star of the show.
I had always loved the three Ravers, and they are put to excellent use throughout, especially in engendering within Covenant's veins the venom that perpetually threatens to unleash the Arch-shattering Wild Magic. We also get an entire ship's crew of Giants by the end of the first novel who will carry Avery and Covenant across the uncharted oceans in search of an answer to the brutally entrapping snare that Lord Foul has lain for his pair of gaoler's keys. While the entire concept of the Elohim was a bit too all-purpose-magic-pixie deus ex machina for me, Vain, the enigmatic gift of the inscrutable ur-Viles, rocks, as does the superb sidebar to Braithairealm, the desert city perilously near to the wasteland home of the Sand Gorgons, where the Giant's ship must put in for repairs, and which will bring the sinister intrigues of the city-state's ruler, the Gaddhi, and his sorcerous steward, the Kemper, down upon the traveller's heads.
The merewives are nifty, the battle between Haruchai and Keeper on the Island of the One Tree tres cool; whilst the return to the Land in the third and closing book is top notch, especially the final showdown between Gibbon-Raver and Covenant, in which the juggernaut of natural force, Nom, will earn a measure of revenge for the heart-rending death of the noble Honninscrave. Everything after this clash is, in a way, almost anticlimactic; however, the journey into the bowels of Mount Thunder and the face-to-face with a supremely confident Lord Foul—who appears to have correctly anticipated his opponent's every move and calculated the perfectly coordinated response—and his two remaining Ravers, brings things to a close well enough. It certainly wasn't as lame a resolution as the Hey, ghosts, let's laugh at Foul and reduce him to a lil' baby! grasp at the straws that comprised the painfully unsatisfying conclusion to the First Chronicles. Avery makes the choice that that weird old man, the Creator, knew she had it in her to make; and, with Covenant dead and the good doctor on her way back to the real earth, she even takes the time to straighten the spine of the husband of the First and fashion a new Staff of Law, one that avoids the old ideological rigidities that doomed the Land to the leechcraft of the Sunbane from the imperfect original.
Well written—in Donaldson's rich vocabulary that ofttimes threatens to tumble over into pretension or parody but never actually fails to recover its balance—and melding the author's fertile imagination and eastern-tinged fantasy memes into the inevitable questing journey that still contains enough originality to put it in that relatively unoccupied second tier of fantasy works below the topmost occupied by the two BigFellas themselves.
Following the award-winning first trilogy, The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever, that gave birth to his cynical protagonist, bringing through his ideas, writing and imagination an – up to that time – more mature aspect in the fantasy genre, as well as a big success that marked his career from then on, Stephen R. Donaldson returns to the magical world of the Land, travelling us in The Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the second omnibus volume of the titular series collecting the next three books: The Wounded Land, The One Tree and White Gold Wielder, in a three-legged story arc of Ravers, Riders, Demondim-spawn, Dead, warped creatures and dark beings, but also in three adventures of corruption and despair, possession and sacrifice, and hope and survival; in an imaginative, dark second epic fantasy trilogy.
The Wounded Land (9/10)
For nearly two score centuries since the great war of Revelstone, when Lord Foul – gathering and marching a vast army of unnatural and evil creatures under his will – was finally defeated, losing his hold over their world and lives, the Land saw during that time its days to thrive again in peace and vitality, giving to its people generation after generation a good life of comfort and carelessness; yet now, with the Despiser having laboured relentlessly since then in new ways of ruin and evil, laying through his deep abhorrence the foundations of his retribution, a malison has fallen on the Land, the Sunbane, which with every turn of its four phases: of desert, pestilence, rain and fertility, corrupts with its touch the very essence of its life, leaving its survivors to a life of desolation and hopelessness – but Linden Avery, having purposefully sought her first job as a doctor after her newly-completed residency in a neighbouring, rural town, wanting to make a fresh start in the loneliness of her unlovely and severe life, has been trying to adapt to her ancient, muggy rented apartment. Receiving an unexpected visit by Dr. Berenford, the Chief of Staff of the Country Hospital who hired her to help him with his busy schedule, wishing to express her his need for a particular long-term patient and to ask her for a second opinion, Linden will take on as a personal favour to meet the infamous leper of the town, Thomas Covenant, and look as best she can to appease his concern. Nevertheless, with Dr. Berenford’s favour to have filled her thoughts with memories from her childhood, bringing back a past she has been trying to forget, when an old man – appearing on her way as out of thin air – accosts her and gives her a seemingly obscure message, and her sudden apprehension about Thomas Covenant’s state of mind after their first encounter leads her to wrong conclusions, Linden will find herself choicessly trapped between forces beyond her comprehension, transporting her along with Covenant to a wild, dark world.
Meanwhile, Thomas Covenant, having spent the last ten years in the isolation of his home, trying to understand his experiences and find a balance between his dreams and reality, has been wanting to make right for his blameless crime of his disease. But, with his last confrontation with Lord Foul to have left the door of his most precious things for him open to his malice, taking advantage of their vulnerability and tainting them to their heart, when he trades his freedom for the woman who broke their eternal vows of love, and the consequences of his past deeds bring him into a world of decay and bloodshed, Covenant will find himself sojourning through the much changed Land, searching visionless for answers and some vestige of hope.
However, with Lord Foul’s newest schemes to have brought his retribution closer than ever to its fruition, corrupting with mendacities and malice everything that once was pure and good, when they’re led to the only place that stood unwavering through the millennia against him, and their adventures bring them before an inconceivable truth, Covenant and Linden will find themselves along with an unlikely company in a desperate quest for hope, pursued across the Land by an ill force that will send them into the dominion of an ancient being – an ancient being which, if they fail to overcome their fears and avoid its snares, could cost the Land its last means of salvation.
Motivated by Lester del Rey – who believed in fungible fiction – and his constant bombardments with new ideas and plots for Thomas Covenant’s next adventures after the end of the first trilogy, having the intention originally to stop at the three already completed books to avoid repeating himself and become trite, Stephen R. Donaldson brings his world to a new and distant era, taking us in The Wounded Land to the Stonedown and Woodhelven villages where their inhabitants – having spent some time after Lord Foul’s defeat in interaction and sharing of their lores, losing with the passing of each generation the customs and traditions of their ancestors – live under the dread of the Sunbane, inducing new and harsh rules upon their societies, and making every day their purpose to survive at any cost necessary; to the rhysh, one of the many individual communities of the Waynhim, where the good-natured Demondim-spawn – having chosen a different path from their brothers the ur-viles – spend their days in devotion and Lore, serving the Law without partaking it, and tending for the Land as best they can; and to Revelstone, the Giant wrought stone city, where now the Clave – taking the Council’s place after its decadence – rules under its current leader, the na-Mhoram, and his Riders, enforcing their will through their perversed beliefs across the Land, and ravishing the weakest people from their homes for sacrifice as the only means of opposition against the malison of the Sunbane. As well as to Sarangrave Flat, where deep into the marshy plains dwells for millennia the lurker: a mysterious and malevolent creature that feeds on beings that possess Earthpower, hunting and luring its preys until it ensnares them; and finally to Coercri, the Grieve, where – once a place where the Unhomed Giants along with their families and children lived in gaiety and love for tales – has now become a dead city of sorrow and pain, haunting it with unrestful memories of the past.
A first book in which, jumping in an entirely new era, leaving behind old and beloved characters and building his world as from scratch, Donaldson – taking a different approach from the first trilogy that however brings a welcome change to the series – creates through his deft writing and rich imagination a strong beginning full of action, twist and turns, and self-reflections, managing with his well-known adult themes to make something equally complex and entrancing as the first chronicles, and to travel us in a dark epic story of Riders, Ravers, ancient peoples, great beasts, warped beings, Demondim-spawn and spectres of the dead, but also in an adventure of choice and freedom, ominus prophecies and distorted legends, and desolation and corruption – a first book which, even though lays only the foundations of a larger storyline, leaving open several threads to be developed in the next ones and form as a whole a cohesive narrative arc, explores the psyche of the two protagonists that made them who they are: from their personal tragedies to their hardships, bringing through a new cast of characters their inner conflicts and challenges to the forefront, and delivering an excellent start of depth and sophistication that promises much more to come.
The One Tree (8/10)
Few hours have passed since they escape from the Clave’s reach, and the evils they faced; yet now, with Lord Foul to have succeeded in carrying out his deepest malice, tainting and corrupting all that once opposed his will and bringing his retribution closer than ever to its fulfilment, the Land – stricken by the Sunbane: a malison that plagues its very heart – lies in its worst plight of the last four millennia, leaving its people helpless to find their own ways of survival – but Linden Avery, having been chosen by greater forces for a purpose she barely understands, impelling her from the severity of her life into a world of fear and bloodshed, has been aching to emulate Thomas Covenant’s paradoxicality. Boarding onto the dromond Giantship, Starfare’s Gem, after their latest adventures, wanting to set sail and continue their quest towards the only means that could fight the Despiser and extirpate the malison of the Sunbane, Linden will embark along with Covenant and their companions on a perilous voyage, searching through the open Sea for hope. Nevertheless, with her blackened heritage of her parents to have contorted much of her life, driving her by the need to escape death rather than seek life in her strive for power and effectiveness, when a darkness – emerging from the depths of the dromond – causes Covenant’s venom to relapse beyond any succour, and the desperate efforts of the Giants to put them back on their course wounds mortally one of their kindred, Linden will find herself drowning in her powerlessness, caught between an impossible choice and the violation of all that she believes in.
Meanwhile, Thomas Covenant, having accepted through his commitment and determination the burden of the Land and its people, desiring as nothing else to save the world he knew millennia ago and to stop the Despiser from causing any more harm, has been driving himself from his personal exigency. But, with Lord Foul’s malice to have wrought to the world he once loved and cared for an unspeakable corruption, striking its heart and decreasing day by day the potency of its life, when the purpose of their quest brings them closer to the answers they seek, and the fate of their company – envisioned through the percipience of greater beings than themselves – falls on Linden’s hands, Covenant will find himself lost in a fathomless void without mind and will, bereaving him everything that might protect him.
However, with their quest across the wide seas to have taken them to the most remote and isolated parts of the Earth, discovering peoples and lands of different perceptions and powers beyond what they’d ever have imagined, when their voyage reaches at the end of their purpose, and all of the Despiser’s machination and manipulations come to fruition, Linden, Covenant and their companions will be faced with their worst fears, bringing them before an entity more powerful than anything they have encountered before – a powerful entity which, if they fail to exert themselves for restraint and prevent it from rousing from its eternal slumber, could mean the end of the cosmos.
Picking up from where the first book, The Wounded Land, left off, following the plot threads the previous one began and bringing his characters to the next stage of their journey, Stephen R. Donaldson travels his imagination for the first time beyond the borders of the Land, taking us in The One Tree to the open Sea, where the unscrupulous and insatiable creatures of the deep hunt for their preys, daring any ship and their crew to defy their perils, and making the oceans of their domain only for the most bold seafarers; to the land of the Elohim, where faeries of dazzling beauty have built their own realm beyond the incursion of mortals, spending their time through their physical transformational manifestations in consideration and examination for the truth of all things, and serving with their deep wisdom and limitless vision the life of the Earth; to Bhrathairealm, where – after a long war of survival against the Sandgorgons of the Great Desert – merchants, soldiers and wily men alike live in prosperity and opulence under the sovereign of the gaddhi and the Kemper, his first counsellor and suzerain of their land, attracting ships and peoples from other lands in search for trade and warlike implements, and giving it the fame as one of the most sought-after places for wealth and lust. As well as to the Isle of the One Tree, where its Guardian, ak-Haru Kenaustin Ardenol – having existed longer than the span of mortal life – protects the Arch of Time through through the eternity, perfecting his skills in restraint, mastery and prowess, and testing in combat the worth of his successors.
A second book in which, expanding his world much further than the reaches of the Land, bringing to the forefront new peoples and lands full of extraordinary wonders, wealth and power, Donaldson – pushing his imagination into unexplored directions – creates a different yet deep and imaginative sequel of introspection and self-contradiction, showing once more the sophistication of his storytelling on adult themes, and travelling us in an epic story of questers, Ravers, faeries, thaumaturges, monstrous creatures and mystical beings, but also in an adventure of perception and violation, blame and restitution, and hope and survival – a second book which, focusing its majority on Linden rather than Covenant, reversing the leading roles and the plot’s point of view in comparison to the previous one, reveals through the arduous and gruelling journey of the two characters their shared need for empathy and love, reflecting their guilts, the disapproval of their choices, as well as the heavy price of their actions, and making a story of many layers that still leaves much open for the final instalment.
White Gold Wielder (9/10)
Less than a day has passed since the quest for the One Tree came to its end, and the travails they had to endure; yet now, with the Clave to have harvested unscrupulously every Stonedown and Woodhelven village in order to feed the Banefire, reaving from the communities the opportunity to fight for their survival and ravaging the Law of nature, the Land has become a barren place of desolation and ruin, pushing closer and closer the meagre, destitute people to their doom – but Thomas Covenant, having felt for the first time the defeat through the Despiser’s manipulations and machinations, turning all his former strengths and victories against him, yearns for the oblivion of slumber. Sailing away with the Giantship, Starfare’s Gem, from the Isle of the One Tree after their recent failure to fulfil their purpose, extinguishing their sole hope and filling their hearts with nothing but grief and despair, Covenant, along with Linden and their companions, will be forced to return back to the place where his quest first began, and search for some other means to save the Land from its plight. Nevertheless, with their return journey from the other end of the Earth to have brought them into an unexpectedly cold gale, challenging the endurance of the ship and the stamina of their will against the tempestuous seas, when the dromond – despite the arduous efforts of the Giants, gets out of control, and the vehemence of the wind sends them crashing into a wilderland of ice, Covenant, Linden, and their companions will find themselves stranded in an uncharted place beyond repair and escape, leaving them helpless before their perils.
Meanwhile, Linden, having travelled alongside Covenant across the world in his quest for hope, confronting through the blackened legacy of her parents her nominal beliefs and finding all over again the love inside her heart, has been standing between the need and the sorrow of their bereavements. But, with the sins of her childhood to have impelled her to an appalling act, attempting to take away the identity from the one decent love of her life and anchor herself against the dark, when they undertake the mission to confront the cause of the Land’s plight, and the difficult choices of their perilous journey – striking the heart of their companionship with grief – brings about the breaking of the balance between life and death, Linden will find herself face-to-face with a figure of the past full of anger and desecration, opening her eyes to an unthinkable truth.
However, with the Clave’s unscrupulous bloodshed to have increased the corruption of the Sunbane, gnawing inexorably into the heart of the Land and fulfilling Lord Foul’s malign dreams, when they get led into the Despiser’s demense, and Findail’s incessant attempts to foil Vain’s enigmatic purpose threatens to bring their sacrifices to ruin, Covenant, Linden, and their remaining companions will be faced with the nightmare of their failure, bringing them before a dark being of pure hatred and contempt that seeks nothing but freedom and havoc – a dark being which, if they fail to resist to its malice and find another way to redeem the Land from its plight, could cause an unprecedented cataclysm that will doom all life and Time forever.
Picking up once again from where the second book, The One Tree, left off, following the threads from the previous one and bringing his characters to the final stage of their journey, Stephen R. Donaldson comes back to the world of the Land, taking us in the White Gold Wielder to the Northron Climbs, where in the snowy mountain range dwell the arghuleh in isolation from the rest of the world as well as from themselves, sharing their common animosity and self-preservation, and giving them through their violent behaviour and adaptable body a reputation of dread; to Revelstone, where the Clave has taken hold of the once glorious Keep of the Lords, depredating through their perverse lust for power the villages of the Land in order to feed the Banefire, and leaving behind nothing but desolation and ruin; and to Andelain, where Caer-Caveral – Forestal of the One Tree – has preserved the pristine beauty and health of the Land, holding it over the millennia free from the bale of the Sunbane, and making the Hills the last bastion of the Law. As well as to Mount Thunder, where Lord Foul has now made his home, bringing under his servitude the Cavewights as they moil to fulfil his designs of destruction, and savouring the fruition of his dreams and malice.
A third book in which, concluding the Second Chronicles back to the Land, bringing this journey to full circle and raising the stakes more than ever before, Donaldson – taking his characters and world to their next stage of evolution – creates through his poignant and complex moral themes a powerful ending full of great battles, twists and turns, and emotional suspense, culminating the trilogy in its highest note, and travelling us in an epic story of travellers, Ravers, Demondim-spawn, ice-beasts, incorporeal forms and dark beings, but also in an adventure of loss and despair, restraint and sacrifice, and possession and destruction – a third book which, interchanging between the two protagonists, showing once more through their points of view their guilts, their contradictions and self-repudiations, as well as the grief, despair, and doubt of their companions, making their choices harder and their challenges even more perilous, and closing their long and arduous journey with a plot twist that changes everything for them and for the future of the Land.
All in all, The Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant is another great trilogy of sophistication and moral themes, with Stephen R. Donaldson – taking a different approach from the first one – bringing us into a new era, and travelling us in a much changed world full of corruption and desolation, as well as in a quest beyond the Land that reveals other, unexplored parts of his world – a dark, epic second trilogy which, raising the stakes of the characters much more than before, manages to bring through his writing and imagination something both fresh and entrancing, engrossing us once again with its scope, and changing everything for the next, and final series.
This review is for all ten books in the series. My re-read of the first six books was colored through the lens of nostalgia. The first two trilogies affected me a great deal as a youth—I read them at some point during high school. When I saw that Donaldson had completed the story arc with The Last Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, a four-book tetralogy, I decided to return to the originals and read them all in sequence.
I regret the decision, but now at least I’ve completed them. I do believe that because the first series in particular is so unique, Donaldson deserved to be given the chance to resolve the story. The ending brought many strands together with a feeling of near-completion, but unfortunately his style ruined the last four books for me.
The first six books affected me powerfully. They were the first fantasy novel that I had read that treated the reader like an adult (much more so than Lord of the Rings). It’s adult in several ways. First, the language. Donaldson uses advanced vocabulary unsparingly that requires most readers to keep a dictionary (app) handy. He doesn’t dumb it down for “young adults” or even for adults for that matter. He challenges you to use your brain, and as a child who joined Mensa and was constantly solving puzzles and playing complex games like Dungeons & Dragons, I ate up the challenge. I felt more mature reading it.
The second most obvious quality that struck me as different from all the other fantasy novels that I had read, is that the main character was radically unsympathetic. Antiheroes were not unknown to me at the time—I had read quite a bit of Michael Moorcock by this point, including Elric of Melnibone and the Cornelius Chronicles. But your typical anti-hero has redeeming qualities that are appealing to read even while they behave in “anti” ways. For example, they are usually charismatic. Or clever. Or unafraid. Whatever causes them to commit questionable acts, we enjoy reading their exploits, and they end up saving the day even if only for selfish reasons. Well, here’s where Donaldson parts ways the most dramatically. The main character is not only a bad person, but he is an unlikeable person. Thomas Covenant is irritable and difficult and unfunny. He is furious at the world because it treated him harshly. He’s bony and angular and diseased and anti-cuddly. He’s a cactus of a person. And on top of that, he commits a despicable act that makes him seem unredeemable. It happens in the first novel, Lord Foul’s Bane, and I don’t consider it a spoiler because I think anyone who goes into reading it should know about it in advance. It’s a central conundrum of much of the series, how do we as the reader respond to it and how do we feel about the author’s treatment of the topic. Thomas Covenant is sucked into the fantasy world known only as The Land, and he believes it is only a grand hallucination of some sort. He feels he’s gone insane. Enraged by his lack of control over himself and his situation (which is particularly acute for him because he has leprosy and his only real-world survival method is to remain in complete control of his interactions with his environment), he takes it out on a friendly young woman trying to help him by raping her.
This act brings up the ethical question of whether cruelty in a dream is real. Covenant believes (at that time) that The Land is a dream of some sort although it’s certainly not a typical dream. But if we are willing to accept that premise then how do we feel about violence toward a dream figure? How do we feel about rape in a story, if we want to look at it metafictionally? Over the course of the series, Donaldson touches on how the assault act psychologically harms the rapist. Covenant later can’t forgive himself and carries his own self-hatred with him for many years. He frequently seeks to atone for this action that he regrets. Yes, his victim suffers from the event but in what I would describe as stereotypical ways. The focus was never on her point of view. Which isn’t to say Donaldson dismisses it, but it’s not really his strong suit. He’s clearly an Existentialist of sorts, and we as a reader come to realize that whether the world is a grand hallucination or another actual dimension doesn’t matter—Covenant is defined by his choices. From a Buddhist perspective, all of existence is a dream. All is nothingness. And yet within this nothingness, our choices still matter. The act of rape degrades the actor as well as injures the victim. A contemporary feminist critique of the storyline might analyze the events from a different perspective. While personal agency and “responsibility” are not attributes to be utterly dismissed, the decentralized and abstract self is part of a social environment. And in fact, it is society/culture/civilization that permits rape to occur. Yes, we can and should punish criminal acts, but it’s our political and cultural environment that allows it to exist, and what is required to change is not “interior” but is instead social. This brings up what could be seen as a weakness of The Chronicles and Donaldson’s treatment of rape and other issues. In the world of The Land, it’s relatively devoid of politics. There is no political economy—no Capitalism to turn people, time, and materials into products. Society is relatively egalitarian between men and women with almost no patriarchy. Struggles tend to be either between evil and good—the forces of Lord Foul (the force of “despite” or despair) versus everyone else (who mean well but may unwittingly help Foul); or the struggles are between “races.” The entire story struck me as not quite racist but racialist. Tending to give each racial group common attributes in contrast with others. He’s somewhat essentialist in his creation of races. The Hurachai, the Ramen, the Giants, the Stonedowners, the Demondimspawn, the Elohim, etc. While there is disagreement between certain members of each group, Donaldson tends to emphasize similarities. At times, for example, I became uncomfortable that all the Hurachai were inscrutable, unemotional martial artists of supreme skill (and unifying telepathic abilities). It struck me as an Asian stereotype—like they were all Bruce Lee clones.
The violent sexual assault, an incestuous relationship (which isn’t portrayed as healthy but also isn’t utterly condemned), and lastly the focus on morality throughout the Chronicles are the other additional elements that made the series a truly adult story that never coddles the reader. We must wrestle with our own responses rather than simply accept the story as it is. Many readers may even just quit reading it and that is certainly a valid response. Or, just as Donaldson positions Covenant as the only man who can save The Land due to his possession of a white gold ring (the wedding band from his ex-wife) which gives him tremendous, dangerous magical powers…are we stuck with the book because it’s hard to put down? Because we grow to care about The Land too? More than we care about Covenant?
In the first two trilogies, Donaldson exhibits a dramatic writing style that walks a tightrope between grand and grandiose that is not balanced by any humor. Either you accept that emotions and dangers are always turned up to 11 or you become put off by the style, and he comes across as melodramatic and bombastic. For me, it worked (mostly) through the first two trilogies. When you get to book seven, he goes off the rails.
The last four books struck me as a parody of his own style. In book nine, the word “god” is repeated 131 times. Hell gets 140 mentions. Damn gets 73. The word “mien” (you know, instead of “expression”) gets 9 mentions in book nine and 25 in book ten. Book ten finds “hell” repeated 181 times, “god” 168 times, “innominate” gets 5 mentions and “We are Giants” is spoken 14 times. Not to mention “We are Haruchai” or “We are Ramen.” Heavy handed much? Throughout the final four, Donaldson dedicates a tremendous volume of dialogue toward justifying and rationalizing the plot. He seems to complexify things in order to create barriers and challenges to raise the stakes but then feels the need to put a lot of effort into explaining them. Too many unnecessary details parsed…much like theology.
Covenant and the other main character, Linden Avery, who joins us in the second trilogy, are always plagued by self-doubt. But by book eight, the self-doubt becomes unbearable. It may authentically represent a struggle that most of us face but for fuck’s sake I don’t want to read about characters constantly doubting themselves. It’s beyond tedious. And the romance between Covenant and Linden is not epic, it’s cloying and saccharineBoth of them struggle with power and feel unworthy of it. They feel that if they accept too much power then they become dangerous. They fear responsibility and must overcome their fear of using power in order to succeed. This strikes me as a thematic concern out-of-date with our times. It feels like a meaningless abstract Existential crisis. “I have so much power I’m afraid to use it.” I keep coming back to the fact that our current struggles are about the “everyperson” being faced with a deficit of power. Corrupt figures like Trump and McConnell have no qualms about using their power. They have no inner struggle. The rest of us humanity are oppressed. So who could possibly relate to this premise of having too much power and being afraid to use it? It seems like an irrelevant out-of-date intellectual debate occurring repeatedly throughout the story.
How does Donaldson reflect on religion in The Chronicles? In general, I’d say ambiguously. I did a little research and found an interview with Donaldson where he talks about being raised as a Fundamentalist Christian and so he understands that mindset well. He said that aspects of that way of thinking remain with him, and he considers himself a “missionary for literature.” Personally, I find Biblical symbolism to be rather pompous in literature, but at the same time I find blasphemy to be generally amusing and entertaining. When fiction uses Biblical stories in some fashion to simply retell the myth (let’s say Aslan in the Narnia Chronicles is Christ returned to save humanity) then I call that proselytizing and indoctrination. But what about when the story falls somewhere in between praise and blasphemy? Thomas Covenant is a Christ figure. He’s resurrected several times in various ways. He actually has leprosy and is healed (periodically) of his condition. Christ is described as curing leprosy. His very name—Covenant: a binding religious commitment to the gospel. And he’s called “The Unbeliever” due to his refusal to believe The Land is real. A facile interpretation might pose that this unlikeable rapist asshole is a representation of “atheism,” and he doesn’t become tolerable and accept his role until he admits The Land is important—even if he never quite knows if it is real. It may all be in his head, but he becomes a better person when he cares about it and acts based upon that. Christians might call this “faith.” I would quibble that Covenant never really becomes likeable. He sacrifices and risks himself repeatedly, but I never found myself on his side. I was on the side of The Land and the supporting characters pulled in his wake.
The religious symbolism is profligate throughout. Lord Foul is our Satan. The Creator is God, Donaldson makes the Creator generally weak and ineffectual although he’s responsible for setting Covenant and Linden Avery on their paths into The Land. The Creator is a fairly clear embodiment of the aspect of Christian story that has Jesus crying, “Why have you forsaken me?” The Creator sets the ball rolling then poof—he gone. The Land is a fallen paradise, with much beauty yet corrupted by evil and plagued by toxins. There were actually times when the themes struck me as almost, vaguely environmental. The poisonous “Sunbane” that inflicts the land is like global warming. The Sunbane is fed by cruelty although they are tricked into believing they are doing it for the good of humanity. Much like we work to buy houses, clothes, electronics, and so on to give our families comfortable lives. And yet all that comfort comes at a price for our species. Humans were seduced into chopping down great swathes of the “One Forest” which subsequently allowed Lord Foul’s forces to increase their strength. There is no technology anywhere in the land, only magic and physical prowess, and so that which “pollutes” the land is driven by our Satan figure. These implications are never stated directly, but they begin to chip away at the too-obvious metaphor of Covenant “saving” humanity. The battle in his soul to avoid despair is what permits him to act and attempt to save the natural world. There is one particular scene that problematizes a simple Christian view of the story. Covenant returns to the “real world” and stumbles into a Christian revival service under a tent. Due to his leprosy, the church rejects him as diseased and literally throws him out. He finds no solace from the Earthly church, only eventually by returning to the fantasy realm and overcoming self-doubt does he find purpose. In the end, Covenant’s covenant is not religious, but it’s a commitment to action in pursuit of Good. His quest is Existential not religious. The Biblical elements seemed to me more stylistic attributes. The framework for a morality play that is about love and friendship and self-sacrifice and overcoming despair for the good of others.
I will comment briefly on the ending in a spoiler tag.
In total, The Chronicles is a groundbreaking series that confronts us with a plethora of moral questions. The adventure story that goes along with it was compelling through the first six books at least, but fell apart for me in the last four. It’s not completely true that I regret reading them all. The OCD in me is pleased to know how Donaldson wanted it all to end.
Finally finished it after almost 3 months. It is a nice story, but sometimes it tends to draw out the feelings of the characters a bit too much, eventhough its a big part of the storyline itself as well. Sometimes the same things are repeated too much to the point of boredom. Had quite a few times that i had to put the book away as my eyes just did no longer want to read the repetitive phrases about how they felt.. and that while thee was action going on at the same time... I did like the ending, due to the fact that it really ends indeed... this one does not give a cliffhanger about how things could turn out.. it gives you closure.. up to the next book now..
In this second trilogy chronicling the adventures of the leper Thomas Covenant we see a very much transformed man. With passion and determination Covenant uses all he has to weild the wild magic in order to bring down the Despiser. His job is difficult, the land now twisted beyond all imagining and all those he loved having passed away millenium ago, but now he finds new friends and is accompanied by Linden, a doctor from the real world.
Although very different from the first trilogy, I cannot recommend one over the other, but you definitely need to read the first trilogy first.
Soooo much better than the first trilogy and the ending is one of the best. I loved virtually everything about the series. I will never be a fan of the degree to which Donaldson luxuriates in the emotional issues of his characters, myes, I know that's part of building character depth, but there are limits. In this way, he's like a dog with a bone ... He won't let it lie.
But it's still one of my favorite settings and stories ever and well worth the read.
The second series of this masterful fantasy epic was equally enjoyable for me, though many people despised the character of Linden Avery, who plays a prominent role in this trilogy. I liked her, though, and was very sorry to see the series end. Fortunately, Donaldson is continuing on with the four book "Last Chronicles"!
I like how awful everything is for that leper. I empathize with all his suffering. And it seems to me that a lot of his problem is that he needed to get laid again. White Gold Wielder, indeed!
Just like the first series, the main character is so incredibly unlikable. He gives a whole new meaning to reluctant hero. Half the time I just wanted to smack him. That being said, the series is brilliant.... and depressing
No so bad now, Mr Covenant needs less of a slapping as he takes Linden and the Giants on a quest for The One Tree. You gotta love the giants. It's probably the law.
An omnibus edition collecting the second trilogy in the Thomas Covenant series, comprising 'The Wounded Land', 'The One Tree' and 'White Gold Wielder'. Ten years have passed in our world when Covenant is once again transported to the Land, this time in the company of the doctor Linden Avery. They soon discover that millennia have passed there and Lord Foul has twisted the history of the Land and deceived its people into rituals of blood sacrifice. The Land is also beset by the Sunbane, an evil which causes it to be struck by unnatural and devastating weathers in quick succession. Covenant and Linden set off on a journey to end the Sunbane and free the Land from Foul's twisted influence, a journey which takes them across oceans.
Okay, first and foremost, this second trilogy is far better than the first one. Covenant is a much more balanced protagonist here and having a co-lead character in the form of Linden Avery helps a great deal (even if she too follows the precedent of the first trilogy of immediately forgiving Covenant for being a rapist). We're also given a genuinely engaging cast of secondary characters which is also something I feel had been missing previously (Hile Troy being an exception). Storywise, there was something very powerful about experiencing this changed Land alongside Covenant, where everything that was once wholesome has become hostile and where the heroic history of the Council of Lords has been perverted in the minds of the people to the point that they believe the Sunbane is just punishment for the evils of the past.
There are problems with Donaldson's writing which are consistent from the first trilogy, however. Perhaps the worst of these is the author's refusal to write a simple sentence. There were times when I was genuinely angered by Donaldson's refusal to use brevity and plain language in favour of some painfully over-written concoction of words that maybe made him feel good about his own vocabulary but which completely kills the flow of the prose. This is exacerbated by his tendency for repetition, which leaves you feeling like you've read the same scene four or five times (the ship Starfare's Gem encountering bad weather is one such). My final gripe with the author's writing is that he is singularly terrible at creating fantasy names; a trait which leaves us with characters callen Vain, Lord Foul the Despiser, Drool Rockworm and, notably, a villain known as Gibbon-Raver.
Putting all of the good and the bad mentioned above aside, there is one thing about this book which overrides everything else in terms of its enjoyment as a book; it's way too goddamn long. At over 1200 pages of fairly small print, the author's ponderous and occasionally awkward prose turns this book into an absolute chore to read. I'm generally a fairly fast reader but this monstrosity took me nearly two months to get through, to the point that rather than being a pleasurable experience, it became some sort of gruelling endurance challenge.
The overall story here might be much better than the first trilogy, but reading it as a single volume is absolutely not worth the effort.
This series is an absolute brutal onslaught. Not brutal in that there's a tonne of blood and gore, but brutal in that it extracts a toll on the characters and on the reader, relentlessly, and refuses to give up. Every time the characters groan at the injustice of the world; at the next impasse they are impossibly thrust up against; I groan with them and feel my soul eroded just that tiny bit further. I feel despite growing within me as surely as Thomas Covenant himself must. Thesis and antithesis are not so much delicately poised in this series as they are tectonically ground against each other- threatening at every moment to slip and unleash fury throughout the world and utter despair upon the reader. As such, when synthesis is finally and painstakingly reached, the relief is almost orgasmic in its bliss. To feel like there may indeed be some hope after 1100 pages of pure despair made me feel like my entire body unclenched, or drew back from some precipice I wasn't fully cognizant I was hovering over.
So much waffle, so few actual details so far! Let's get in to it a bit. Through disturbing circumstances, Covenant finds himself returned to the mystical Land he had thought saved 10 years ago in his previous visit, only to find it ravaged and corrupted almost beyond recognition by his nemesis Lord Fould. This time however, he is not alone, as brought with him is Doctor Linden Avery, who serves as an excellent foil, a deeply conflicted and complex character who perfectly suits the needs both of the Land and Lord Foul. Thus begins an epic quest across the face of the Land and beyond, as Covenant, Avery and a great series of well-developed companions strive from complication to complication to attempt to save the Land. But what costs, both external and personal, are acceptable to achieve such an end? And can a world which contains humans, so capable of self-loathing and Despite as we are, ever truly be saved? This series is great and a true epic of the genre, but even it can not stand up to a strong comparison with the first 3 books- it lacks the nuance and sheer philosophical weight that they bring to the table, and in some cases here the ongoing-quest type plot can appear to drag. In addition to the thesaurus abuse that can start to grate ('gyre' in particular is used with more frequency than, I imagine, any other text), this series can definitely be demoted from 'must-read' like the first to just 'really good'.
The characters are, one and all, fully realised and well drawn. The settings range from pure fantastical wonder to sheer dread to despoiled beauty enough to make you weep. The plot is not exactly snappy, but it is intense and focused. The themes explored, whilst lacking the weight or possibly coherence of the first series, still pack a powerful punch and give you a lot to think about.
Well, I read the first chronicles 12 years ago and I remember the frustration, annoyance and snickering on my part. But I also remember some truly intense, visceral moments. At the end of it all I was satisfied if I'm honest with myself and I appreciated Stephen Donaldson's consistency and unwavering dedication to the characters. I also remember promising myself never to read the first trilogy again.
And so it is with the second trilogy. The two main characters are so frustrating and abrasive, truly. They constantly refuse to act according to your expectations and it makes the reading a real challenge. And again, I respect the author for that. After completing this book I have to admit its refreshing and I feel all the better for it - plus I learned what "puissance" and "rapine" mean! And there were some really great moments, especially at the end. It's really an achievement. That being said, I'll never read this again and I'm on the fence as to reading the latter books of this saga.
Unnervingly good. I read this a long while back. Curiously the cover artwork sums up how l feel. A ship at sea. It looks just like our world, but it isn't, but then, which world is? Well, l guess that's how it was for Thomas Covenant. Also l was heartbroken when the second series finally ended. I guess that makes this a pretty good read.
Outstanding details: the alchemical theme, the Masonic stuff. Above all, though, the Arch of Time was the most profound concept l walked away with. I wish l could remember the series better but it's submerged in my psyche now. One thing l'd like to say though: l remember discovering a flaw regarding the Arch of Time, but l've now forgotten what it was. The flaw may have just been in my understanding.
The Second Chronicles of Thoms Covenant is a handy boxset containing Books #1 - 3 of The Second Chronicles of Thoms Covenant by Stephen R. Donaldson- which is a great way to explore this series...
Buddy Read. Stay tuned, my full review is still to come.
The Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant picks up about 10 years after the events of The First Chronicles, but 3,500+ years have passed within the Land. In that time, much has happened – which I won’t spoil – but suffice to say it’s not good.
I wondered if SRD would be able to keep the story fresh or if this would simply be a lame rehash of the events in the First Chronicles. I am pleased to say, it was wonderfully done and more than met the high standard I’ve come to expect from Donaldson’s writing. Though, admittedly, it was a bit of a rehash - just not a lame one.
This series makes you think about some great questions – such as whether or not past mistakes (no matter how egregious) define someone, whether the ends can ever justify the means and whether evil can ever be eradicated or if it’s necessary in order for us to have the opportunity to choose for or against it.
I won’t spoil the ending, but the question of the reality of the Land (as if having both Linden Avery and Covenant share the experience wasn’t enough) is settled once and for all by one simple occurrence.
This whole series is very original, with the idea of the "hero" is so very harsh and unlikeable through the books. He gets to redeem a bit of it throughout the books, but he is still not a very charismatic guy. He's struggled with a lot in his life, one of those things being his leprosy, and it is understandable that he is pretty disillusioned. It is a very heavy book, with a language that is almost pretentious at times, and I found it hard to get into at first. But once you actually do, it is a great series, and you will fall in love with the Land and all its inhabitants.
It was a slog, as you can probably tell from the time it took me to read the thing. I had a similar issue with the First Chronicles but have all three trilogies purchased, so I will get through them at some stage. Now I'm done with this one I need a break but I have some motivation to complete the series with the second half of this trilogy starting to pique my interest. I still think that it could have been completed in half the amount of pages, with half the drama to still be a good book.
See my review of the first Chronicles of Thomas Covenant (I haven't figure out how to arrange books on this site yet). The second series is in the same universe, where the situation has only become more desperate.
I actually didn't finish the book - I powered through the first one, and picked this one up hoping it would be a bit less dragging (in the sense of the story pacing and the overall feeling).
I was disappointed - it is slow and just as depressing as the first; I just couldn't slog through this one.
Unlike the first Chronicles, this is really one long story. Covenant is an actual person in these books, perhaps because of his position relative to Linden Avery. Donaldson still reads much like an anime show sounds, though; so much happens at top emotional pitch.