The value of “books and good verse and decent talk”…

[rusty_halo]

http://rusty-halo.com/wordpress/?p=2846

One of the benefits of jumping back into a book after a break of a couple months is that while diving back in you notice juxtapositions that you might have skimmed over before.

These three in particular just struck me:

Gabriel subtly trying to turn Lymond's men against him:

"It's only that ... shut off from all affairs of the spirit, all art and all graces in the hard life he's led, it is sometimes a little hard to reach his understanding ... over things I might feel are important, and he, perhaps quite rightly, does not."
(p. 345)

(Fun trick while reading The Disorderly Knights: if you remove all the compliments and qualifications from Gabriel's quotes about Lymond, he's basically been saying "Lymond is a godless fiend" from the beginning. Of course, the compliments and qualifications mean that everyone internalizes negatives about Lymond without blaming Gabriel for planting them. The guy is a master of manipulating human psychology.)

Jerott recognizing how calculated Lymond's behavior is and thinking he finally understands what makes Lymond tick:

So he, Jerott, had been fighting the wind. You did not expect human values from a machine. You did not grow angry with a machine, or be disappointed or feel betrayed by it. You treated it with detachment and curiosity, as you would any soul-deprived object, and if it kicked you in the teeth, you side-stepped and kicked it back, harder.
(p. 359)

(Of course the lovely irony here is that Jerott's "revelation" is based on what he believes to be a calculated response to Buccleuch's trick, Lymond's uncontrolled laughter, when in fact it's one of those rare moments that the true Lymond does shine through.)

And then the quote I posted the other day, which comes after Lymond challenges Jerott's characterization of him as a mercenary:

"What does anyone want out of life? What kind of freak do you suppose I am? I miss books and good verse and decent talk. I miss women, to speak to, not to rape; and children, and men creating things instead of destroying them. And from the time I wake until the time I find I can't go to sleep, there is the void--the bloody void where there was no music today and none yesterday and no prospect of any tomorrow, or tomorrow, or next God-damned year."

He stopped. Adam Blacklock, saying nothing, looked down; and even Jerott, after the first moments, removed his troubled gaze. Then, as their horses paced evenly, Jerott Blyth said blankly, "Music?"
(p. 366)

Those three together highlight what is probably my favorite theme in this book, that there is more to being a good person than religious virtue--and that religion on its own is just as likely to corrupt as it is to enlighten. That's why Lymond brings such a diverse group to St. Mary's--religious guys, yes, but then artists and philosophers and doctors and lawyers as well. St. Mary's is in direct contrast to the Knights of St. John.

And I love that, while Gabriel tries to paint Lymond as this heathen, lacking in any kind of morality because he's not ostentatiously religious, we of course know that Lymond has plenty of virtue and that, in addition to a belief in god (which seems mostly removed from a specific religion) Lymond values books and poetry and conversation and creativity and music. Things that actually give him a far more powerful ethical center than religion does for Gabriel.

And I love how Jerott, who is so hung up on religion as the be-all and end-all, is so utterly dumbfounded when Lymond brings up music! It's like you can see his narrow mind struggling to expand based on this new information. (It takes a while, but this is the start of Jerott finally catching on to the fact that Lymond is not quite the devil.)

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