VOLUME IX - The Kindly Ones - Main Discussion Thread
This thread is for discussion of Volume IX, The Kindly Ones.
*Spoiler Alert:* If you have not yet read through Volume IX, this book has a lot of action and the discussion will likely spoil you for major Sandman plot points!
But for the rest of us, we now know an awful lot of the story. This denouement has been the subject of discussion for years and years, so let's tackle the riddle of who wanted what and how it came to pass.
*Spoiler Alert:* If you have not yet read through Volume IX, this book has a lot of action and the discussion will likely spoil you for major Sandman plot points!
But for the rest of us, we now know an awful lot of the story. This denouement has been the subject of discussion for years and years, so let's tackle the riddle of who wanted what and how it came to pass.
Comments
The opening and closing of the scene in the witches' house ("I'll eat the rat") is really elegant, structurally, and it calls to mind Macbeth more than a little. Toil and trouble. The hecatae in all of their appearances here are so amazing. Sadly my annotated versions have ended so I'm without Gaiman's notes about them -- I want them more than ever though!
We come back again to women being the actors in these books, even as Gaiman plays on the old gender stereotypes of men as actors and women as images. He gives women equal, sometimes greater, agency in moving the plot forward. This story does have the Corinthian and Puck and Loki, sure, but the plot is mostly propelled by Lyta, Rose, Nuala, and the three ladies. In the nursing home with Rose, the three ladies describe themselves as surrounding and propelling the lives of men, awakening them and putting them to sleep (with a Wake).
So did Morpheus have a death wish? Or has Desire really been trying to destroy him for millennia? Or both?
So Loki owed Morpheus a boon. Did Morpheus send Loki to retrieve the child so that M could have the child, or did he send Loki to trigger Lyta on her path? Was Lyta the wild card or part of the plan? And did Loki accomplish his mission, or did he go rogue -- that is, did Morpheus send Matthew and the Corinthian on purpose, knowing that would have to happen, or did Loki frustrate Morpheus' plans and require the rescue mission?
I'm asking you guys because I've read it multiple times and I feel as if I'm still missing some hints and clues. And because no more annotations, boo hoo.
Desire's plan seems more centered on Rose, even here at the end. Does Desire influence Loki or the Corinthian at all? I have to read it AGAIN to pay more attention to this.
And how frustrating would it be to have snake hair?
So why do you think Nuala's bit was in the book?
I really like it, I mean. Actually I love what happens when she appears without a glamour because she is more comfortable without it -- all hell breaks loose until a quick save from her brother restores order and wraps her in a disguise again. That says so much about society and appearances. It reminds me of Rainie, surrounded by masks, unable to go out without one. Nuala once needed her glamour, but now she is used to being herself -- but it's unacceptable to her old friends.
How very like a person experiencing a change of mood, like being depressed or growing tired of childish games -- and how like a change of appearance, say, gaining some weight or losing some hair!
But her love for Morpheus, and using her boon to call him back. There's a little reflection here, Dream's meeting with Nuala and Dream's meeting with Thessaly. He visits these two women, (spoiler in white) one whom he loved and one who loves him. And these are among his last trips away from the Dreaming.
In the first visit, to Thessaly, his obedience to the rules prevents him from saving himself. Could he have broken them, do you think? Is it not in the nature of this Gaiman universe, or is it just not in Dream's nature, even after all he has changed?
In his second visit, to Nuala, is it again his obedience that takes him there to answer her boon? Or is he involuntarily called? Is this a way in which he breaks the rules and so loses his safety? Or is it obedience again, binding him?
The lettering throughout these books has been great, from Matthew's scratchiness to Delirium's lilting to Desire's pointed calligraphy and more. I noted way back in volume 1 that Dream is one of the few characters to have his dialogue written in sentence case rather than all-caps. Finally I feel safe pointing out: so is Daniel.
Oh, Daniel. (Lots of things start with "D".) He went out of the Dreaming carrying a raven feather in "Fables and Reflections," and he appears carrying a phoenix feather here. The phoenix, who is reborn from fire and ash.
I love the recreated Corinthian, Morpheus's masterpiece. It's fascinating, the way the story was able to resurrect a villain and monster and turn him into someone we root for ("Game of Thrones" fans might think about comparing and contrasting with Jaime Lannister). He's also very like Dream himself: destroyed, recreated, new but bearing fragments of the old within.
I'm pretty sure Desire gave up on trying to destroy Dream in "Brief Lives," or perhaps even sooner. Desire is a creature of the moment, who wanted to win, who once thought "winning" meant killing Dream. But when Dream brought his destruction upon himself, the reality of it only frightened Desire. So in this volume, Desire seals off their realm, emerging only to give Rose her heart back, symbolically abandoning the last of the old scheme.
A little detail: in the first panel of Desire's appearance, notice the book the guard was reading at the time of Dream's escape is shown still lying on the floor. Either the sanctum hasn't been touched much in the intervening five years, or it's part of the illusion Desire conjures for Rose. Either way, "IT" serves as a bold label for the androgynous Desire.
Speaking of Desire, Rose, and little details: how about Jack Holdaways's suicide? Desire blowing off steam? One more parting gift for a granddaughter?
Abel's death was heartbreaking. "You mustn't kill me. You don't love me. You d-don't even know me." And Cain's reaction… "That was my punishment. Not being hurt…" What a line, eh? It's true, of course, but what kind of punishment is that? Is it one of Cain's mysteries, the answer not meant to be known? Or can we glean some meaning from it? There may be something there about guilt, perhaps wanting on some level to be hurt in turn for the pain he's inflicted on his brother. Then my mind turns to Rose's monologue about love. Does his curse mean Cain is unable to love anyone, lest they be able to hurt him? Or, perhaps anyone save Abel, who would never hurt him, and whom Cain loves very much (if secret stories are to be believed).
I'm not the biggest fan of the art in this volume, but I don't hate it; it's a style, and it definitely has its strengths. But I also got the "clip art" vibe at times; there was one panel in particular, of Lucifer playing the piano, that I almost would have sworn was included in Microsoft Works. (It's important to note that several artists had a hand in this volume, so there's still variation.)
But one thing stands out that I don't think would have worked as well in a different style: much of the artwork in this volume is very head-on. Time and time again, characters' faces are turned *directly* toward the reader. That isn't the only play on perspective, either. The Corinthian, our dark mirror, can see through the eyes of his victims. In the prologue, although the art is less stylized, we tour the Dreaming through the eyes of a dreamer and are addressed directly. And perhaps most significantly: What does it mean that we see the harrowing of Morpheus and the destruction of the Dreaming through the eyes of the Furies?
I was thinking that there is a different trio of women who unintentionally destroy dream, mirroring the Furies: Lyta, Nuala, and Thessaly between them (maiden, mother, crone) are each a piece of his destruction, even though none of them wants to. Lyta initiates it, but when she learns Daniel is alive, she wants to call it off -- too late.
@svithrir, good notes on the art. It's not just the lines that are different, it's the perspective and framing -- the characters are looking directly at us in a way that would break the reality of some of the comic styles we have already visited. It's Brechtian. It violates the fourth wall. We've seen it a bit in Vol. II when Rose dreams of the Dreaming, and when the Corinthian does his work, and then it's rather odd. But then we are in Rose's/the Corinthian's place, looking through their eyes. Now we are just us, the reader, being given a tour of the palace, being faced down by the madness and rage of Lyta, talking directly to Jeremy and Eve.
I think I remember the page when the artwork started making sense to me: it was the page in which Lyta goes shopping and runs errands, only each panel is just her face, growing increasingly distressed. The line work is so simple and graphic that I was amazed how much was communicated with great economy. I tend to like fewer lines rather than more lines in comic illustration. I was also hit in the chest by the boldness of this bereaved mother looking at me directly in the face and breaking down. As a reader it's really intense, sort of a slap in the face with what these characters are feeling.
I love the exploration of madness/illness that Lyta's journey to find the Furies entails. She wanders around her own city, dazed and hallucinating, talking to lampposts, yet going on a very real journey. I've always felt that the city hides all sorts of secrets like that. I have definitely met stinky hobos who said things that sounded like prophecies and changed my life. Whose realm is Lyta walking in? Or whose realm is she experiencing as she walks in the waking world? The Dreaming? Delirium? The dreams of the city perhaps? Some other vaguely Greek mythological parallel universe that she has slipped into?
I also like how Destiny embodies/enacts what might happen at those places Delirium referred to earlier -- places where Destiny can be changed. He becomes many Destinies (with many different books?) and when the multiple possibilities in the narrative resolve, all but one disappear. I like that Delirium seems to know that this can happen, while Destiny is a little surprised by it -- though it is of course written in his book. Delirium knows things NONE of the older siblings know.
Re. Cain's punishment and not being hurt -- I think you're right that it's about guilt. To not be punished for a murder is a kind of torture. Cain kills what he loves, and he is not punished, and that is his punishment.
I think that reflects Morpheus' situation. He cannot NOT be punished for spilling family blood. And for the way he treated so many other people in his life. He has begun to comprehend since his imprisonment what it meant that he enslaved and abandoned his lovers and family members. He is aware now of his pride and how much it has cost others.
He cannot NOT be punished.
Heh, it's kinda funny that you remember that page (Ch3-pg17) as Lyta's face growing "increasingly distressed," considering the line-work is literally photocopied in all six panels. It's incredibly effective.
There are so many little details here and there. Hob visible through Despair's mirror. The parallelism between Ch4-pg3-pn6 and Ch12-pg11-pn4. That Odin is the mouse Puck was toying with (note the one eye).
So. Dream wanted to die. That much was foreshadowed in his walk with Death way back in volume 1: "I have found the solace I sought, though not in the way I imagined." On one hand, Death reminded him of his role in the grand scheme of things at a time when he was feeling worthless. But on the other, there were hints that death itself could be relief for Morpheus. He's tired, he's hurt, he's changed. Consider the final stanza of the poem he recalls: "Death is before me today: / Like the home that a man longs to see, / After years spent as a captive." And he smiles, and surrounds himself with the sound of wings.
But we also see time and again Morpheus struggle with responsibility and propriety and decisions. Consider volume IV, and how much he agonized over what to do with the key to Hell before the decision was made for him.
He couldn't just decide to end his life; he had to give himself plausible deniability, corner himself in a position wherein his desire (to die) and his duty (to protect the Dreaming) were the same. And all along the way—respecting the boundary set by Thessaly/Larissa, answering Nuala's summons, even honoring his promise to his son back in volume VII—he could use the rules as an excuse to keep himself in his own trap.
I believe Morpheus did employ Loki and Puck to kidnap Daniel. (How did Rose fall asleep, I wonder?) Perhaps they were even instructed to begin burning away Daniel's mortality, in preparation for his assuming the mantle of Dream. But Morpheus's use of Loki goes even deeper than that. Odin chided Morpheus for being foolish enough to employ Loki, but he was under the (reasonable) assumption that the Dream Lord didn't want to incur Loki's treachery. I think that's what Loki realized in Ch13-pg8-pn2: that by inciting Lyra to vengeance, he had played right into Morpheus's plans after all.
Death is much more savvy than that, of course. She knew this was what Dream wanted, better even than he did. ("I have made all the preparations necessary." "Hmph. You've been making them for ages. You just didn't let yourself know that was what you were doing." "If you say so.") She also knew that she couldn't talk him out of it, even if it weren't too late for that anyway.
I'm not so sure that what Morpheus was after was punishment per se. There's an element of that, sure, but if he really primarily wanted to be punished, then he might have stayed and let the Furies torment him. (As we've been told, no one is in Hell who doesn't at some level wish to be there.)
What he really wanted, as Death finally got him to admit, is release. ("But even the freedom of the Dreaming can be a cage, of a kind, my sister.") And for someone in his position, who was unwilling to take the road Destruction took, the only release was death.
And maybe none of this mattered until he was trapped away from his realm. Nothing to work on and nothing to do but think. No Responsibilities but the personal ones.
He's a bit of a workaholic. And his family life and love life have always suffered for it. But the workaholic can't comprehend that until the work is taken away.
After his imprisonment, I think he begins to grasp that his personal Responsibilities (relationships) are an irreparable mess. The damage is done. And he can make a few amends, but he can't ultimately fix Orpheus' lifetimes of agony or Calliope's imprisonment or Nada's unjust punishment or his feud with Desire. And he can't really start over either.
And I think Death has always known all this, and knew Morpheus would one day understand it.
Was his wish to die conscious? I don't know. But I think it was certainly real. It would have been Irresponsible to want it consciously, so maybe he didn't allow himself to. But he pointed his steps in that direction and hemmed himself in. He has no instinct for self-preservation.
And I think all he wanted in the world was release. Passing the mantle to Daniel gives a new Dream Lord a chance to honor both kinds of Responsibilities.
[The one part of Javert's suicide that didn't make it from the novel to the musical, was the notion that Javert considered himself to be God's servant, and he couldn't understand, and therefore could not obey, God's command to forgive Jean Valjean. Given that his ultimate superior, both as a man and as a policeman, was God, how could he resign from that service?...]
And if I decide to be stubborn and not seek release, what's left? Forgiveness? I never liked the notion of forgiving myself. I think of forgiveness mainly as something granted by someone who is wronged. I'm not sure I really wrong myself when I do something I look back on and now think is wrong. I suppose, if you think of right and wrong involving harmony, then whenever you do something bad you disrupt your own harmony, and then you can forgive yourself... But I always think of it more as, just get over it...
But it isn't a very effective way of letting go of guilt. I wonder if that is one reason for religion. You have an external God who you can beg forgiveness from, something beyond yourself, a concrete lawgiver whose laws you broke and can therefore receive absolution from. Absolution from oneself isn't nearly as dramatic.
I wonder how true it is that we create our own hells. In this life, maybe. If there is a next, I'm not sure I buy that idea. I don't know if Gaiman is trying to make any statements about the way the afterlife works, or if it's all just a metaphor for how we should try to act in this one.
Anyway, a lot goes back to the question of free will and responsibility. I don't have any answers on that stuff yet, but just wanted to comment on this other stuff.