jas makes places

(or thinks about the places that have been made)

[johnathanmolina]

Horses

The interesting thing about the Pazyryks to me was the meaning behind tattoos and flesh. “The skin represents the interface between the self and the world, and tattoos upon it serve to bring into consciousness images and ideas that are culturally or personally important.” (188) I think that tattoos would have such a strong place in the mindset of people for many reasons. One being the process of having this mark on their body and the symbolism of getting one within their community. “If this was the case then as the horses themselves marked significant events in the humans’ lives, the horses’ own deaths would be inscribed upon their humans’ bodies.” (189) It seems that horses played such a massive role in their lives if they would have such respect for these creatures. This reminds me of dogs to a lesser extent that we might relate to now. We have such strong bonds with these animals and I can see people generating stronger bonds to animals they would have worked with for large amounts of time.

[jasmakesplaces]

I found it really interesting when Argent mentioned that the Pazyryk people chose to discard everything after death but their bones and skin (and, by extension, their tattoos). The dog analogy you used really works; plenty of people choose to memorialize their beloved dogs through tattoos, creating a permanent, bodily mark of the bond between them.

[jasmakesplaces]

i swear i'm not a horse girl (but the pazyryks were) - argent's "inked"

Humans will really bond with anything. People get super attached to their houseplants, own pet rocks, mourn the loss of their broken-down old cars, and think the Starships around campus are really cute (who would even think that?? haha ha hah…). It only makes sense that bonds will form between humans and horses, who spend years collaboratively learning and adapting to one another. Argent utilizes her own personal experience with horses, stating that "riding is a 'joint action' (Sanders, 2007) between rider and horse, where both must move in synchrony together, anticipating and predicting the other's actions in order to remain safe" (180).

Horses served a multitude of practical, cultural, and spiritual purposes for the Pazyryk people, making them an undeniably important feature in their lives. Yet overall, "smaller-scale, embodied, emotional interspecies interactions fed into larger social structures and cosmological meanings" (190). Argent points out that these individual interactions are important for archaeologists to consider, especially considering the impact that these interspecies relationships have on human societies as a whole.

[entmootatderndingle]

The Women of Palmyra

First, can we get a big budget Queen Zenobia movie? 

It’s fitting that Palmyran’s had a powerful female deity who weaves “cosmic destiny” and “controls fate” for the women of this oasis could decide their own fate, at least as much as any people can (Finlayson). It’s refreshing to read of a society with empowered women and it really challenges a somewhat unstated western dogma that implicitly maintains gender inequity in favor of men. The silk textile trade formed the beating heart of Palmyra’s economic system. Women dominated the silk industry and reaped the benefits not only economically but culturally. Silk enabled the way of life for the oasis therefore the silk trade and silk as a resource became culturally central and the women who worked the silk too became central to Palmyra. Their portraits in the cities’ tombs “are more lavishly attired, far surpassing their male counterparts” for a reason–they generated the Palmyran wealth (Finlayson). 

It seems as if “cosmic destiny” and “fate” took the side of Palmyra (Finlayson). Palmyra sat in a strategic military position and Rome’s need for caravan trade, mostly silk, “guaranteed high status” to women and “vibrant political and social” roles to them too (Finlayson). I’m fascinated that silk developed in China during the Han Dynasty flowed through trade routes which carried it through Palmyra and thus enabled Palmyra to flourish. The access to silk empowered those with the skill to embroider and work this resource which enhanced the importance of Palmyra to buyers in Rome and elevated women in Palmyran culture. Geography met opportunity as only the “cosmic weave” could predict. The cultivation of moths who just happen to produce a usable cloth making substance when boiled in their pupal stage in China led to skilled workers in the region to develop techniques to make textile from this silk. Skill and material evolved in quality over time and met with demand across a massive continent and necessitated long trade routes. Geographic and political factors forced the trade route through Palmyra. Silk transformed Palmyra and Palmyra transformed the silk in the city. This relationship between material and location encouraged the development of skills to take advantage of this opportunity. Anywhere along the silkroad could have developed the skills to improve the textiles or take advantage of economic power of this trade. If other civilizations did this, it would have eroded Palmyra’s importance. However, this did not happen and the demand for Palmyran embroidery even drove China to send less ornate textiles to Palmyra so that Palmyran’s could improve them. Palmyra received a gift from “fate” in the form of geography and China’s silk trade, but the women of Palmyra also wove their own “cosmic destiny” (Finlayson).

[jasmakesplaces]

I agree that the Silk Road was a perfect opportunity for the Palmyrene people, particularly for Palmyrene women. I hadn’t thought about the fact that if any number of factors were different (climate, geography, politics), we would be reading about a different civilization and how they benefitted from the Silk Road. Palmyra was truly in the right place at the right time.

[jasmakesplaces]

silk, trade, and ladies in very cool hats - the women of palmyra (finlayson)

The silk in Palmyra was an indication of the economic and cultural prosperity that came along with the Silk Road. As “the only viable source of water, salt, and pasture for all large trading expeditions as they ventured across the Northern Syrian Desert to the Mediterranean ports” (2), Palmyra benefitted from the industry that traveled between the East and the West, as well as the increased connectedness that being on this route provided. 

For Palmyrene women in particular, the silk trade allowed them an increased level of social and political autonomy. Their embroidery using silk thread “increased [indigenous woolen garments’] re-sale value” (11) and their “carefully orchestrated marriages guaranteed wealth and access to trade routes though clan alliances” (4). The silk industry was such an integral part of Palmyra’s success that those who contributed it were bound to be rewarded.

Because silk had such a hold on Palmyra’s economy and culture, the decrease in silk quality over time was an indicator of bad things to come. Like Lorbanery in The Farthest Shore, if a town’s signature resource starts to be neglected, there’s likely economic or political unrest below the surface. As expected, there were “increasing political problems along the trade routes... coupled with the discovery of sea routes to the south that eventually allowed trade to bypass the interior desert routes” (6). Unfortunately for the Palmyrene women, the silk bubble had popped.

[anneeemerald]

Empty Rituals

In Earthsea, the wizards’ magic is practical, concrete and solid, because it gets at the fundamental truth beneath the surface of the world. By harnessing true names, wizards come to understand their world more deeply, and can then affect it.

The power of the Kargad priestesses, however, is much more vague. It is ancient, but it is so secretive and buried, that one does not know what is truly at its core. In fact, a lot of the rituals the Kargad participate in seem mostly empty. Arha and the other priestesses sing “songs whose words no man understood” (60). And perform the same rituals over and over with no result obvious to the reader. One gets the impression that they act because they’ve been told that it has an affect, and whether they believe it or not, this is how it is done. 

The idea of unbelief is interesting in that you wouldn’t find a wizard of Earthsea ceasing to believe in his power. The evidence is clear. However Arha ultimately realized “the existence of unfaith, and had accepted it as a reality even though it frightened her” (77). And this unbelief isn’t reserved for a clearly wrongheaded person either. Her friend, the gentle Penthe lacks true conviction in their cause. And of course there is Kossil, who “had no true worship in her heart of the Nameless Ones or of the gods. She held nothing sacred but power” (77). 

If one so good as well as one so high up in the religion can posses unfaith, it casts doubt upon the entire system. One wonders if either it is all lies, or if there is a truer way to worship the Nameless Ones that has been lost.

A signal example of Arhu considering the emptiness of the religion she perpetuates, is when she sees the Undertomb illuminated for the first time. She has never brought light into the Undertomb because that’s what she had been told, and what she’d always done. When she does, she begs repentance, “yet even as she prayed, in her mind’s eye she saw the quivering radiance of the lighted cavern, life in the place of death” (89). She is realizing realizes how beautiful and mysterious the Undertomb is when illuminated. What if the space had originally been meant to be seen? How was she to know that the ritual of total darkness was any more honoring than light? All she had were the teachings of her predecessors who may or may not have been true believers.

[jasmakesplaces]

I feel like this difference between visible and invisible magic plays a part in each group’s opinions of the other. The Kargs think that wizards use flashy illusions, ignoring and rebelling against the true power of the Gods. The wizards think that the Kargs are barbaric, anti-magic folk who prefer to worship unseen forces rather than using the magic that is right in front of them.

Telling a story from Arha’s perspective allows the readers to get to know the Kargish people, who have only been shown briefly and from a biased point of view. We get to learn about their biases and their nation’s shortcomings, which really helps to build the world of Earthsea. I haven’t read the rest of Tombs, but I’m excited to learn whether the Nameless Ones actually do have the power that Arha believes they have.

[jasmakesplaces]

don’t judge a wizard by their legends - tombs of atuan

In The Tombs of Atuan, we begin to learn more about the Kargish lands, specifically the Place of the Tombs on the island of Atuan. The Place sees very little in the way of visitors - it is noted that “nobody came by chance, or to buy and sell, or to sightsee, or to steal; nobody came but under orders” (55). If no one comes around except those specifically sent to worship at the temples, the Place’s people are bound to have a narrow worldview. Their beliefs become a feedback loop that serves only to solidify the power of the homeland in their minds.

For the priestesses (and likely the Kargish people as a whole), the sorcerers from the Inner Lands appear to be vicious pillagers, foolishly using tricks instead of submitting to the Gods and their true power. Kossil speaks of them derisively, saying, “They have no gods. They work magic, and think they are gods themselves. But they are not. And when they die, they are not reborn [...] They do not have immortal souls” (59). She believes that everything that wizards do is “tricks, deceptions, jugglery” (59) and that their power comes from lies. On the other hand, Thar acknowledges that wizards use words to control their surroundings, allowing them exercise their innate power.

Kossil’s (and to an extent, Thar’s) opinions are based solely on old stories of the thieving Erreth-Akbe and other plundering, looting wizards from long ago. Because of the Kargad Lands’ isolation, the general perception of Inner Land wizards is probably pretty similar amongst the population. Meeting modern wizards would challenge these ideas, if they could only put aside their Kargish pride.

[johns-adventures-in-placemaking]

Shadows and Balance

Often, as Ursula Le Guin Suggests, we think of good and evil as black and white. Things are always one or the other. In her discussion of The child and the Shadow, she goes on to suggest that we consider how this is not usually the case. It turns out that almost everything ends up being shades of grey. She also goes on to discuss at some length the Jungian concept of “The Shadow”. While she does a great job of distilling the concept I think there are a few more points that can be highlighted. Mainly that the Shadow consists of the aspects of a person that are not clearly known to them/their ego. This means that most people tend to think of the Shadow as a collection of mostly negative things about humanity and themselves. In reality, the Shadow can contain. positive qualities as well. Jung remarks “Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” (Psychology and Religion, pg. 131). This suggests that regardless of the nature of the Shadow, the more it is ignored and separated from the conscious mind, the more evil it is. Jung’s psychology also discusses merging with one’s Shadow, an event where the Shadow overwhelms the person and controls their actions, temporarily superseding the ego. This is very reminiscent of Ged’s multiple encounters with his Shadow, where it overpowers him. Finally, however, Ged merges with his shadow, accepting it as a part of himself. Jung calls this Assimilation, where the person retains awareness of their Shadow and how it influences and shapes them as a person. I think it is very clear from these comparisons that Ged’s shadow is indeed a representation of Jungian Psychology, and its connections to the ideas of balance. I’m very interested to see if she explores more psychology in the sequel Earthsea books. 

[jasmakesplaces]

You make a very good point that the Shadow can also contain positive qualities. Anything that is tamped down and hidden away, even if it could be used for "good," can become sour if repressed.

[jasmakesplaces]

stop being mean to death!!! >:( - the child and his shadow

Like Le Guin describes with fantasy stories, one must look past the “one-sided, shadowless half-truths and conventional moralities of the collective consciousness” (62) in order to understand the symbols and archetypes represented within tarot cards.

When I took a tarot-reading class, I was really bad at separating myself from this “collective consciousness” at first. I’d look at cards like “Death” or “The Devil” and flag them as bad and scary, immediately putting on my society blinders. They were the shadow; easy to repress, to ignore, to tuck back into the deck and avoid. But as I progressed, I found that there is so much more than the surface-level reading of a card.

For example, here’s “Death” and “The Sun”:

For me, they are a pretty good example of the light and shadow we’ve been discussing with Wizard of Earthsea. “Death” obviously has some pretty negative connotations. Yet, the card has lots of symbolic similarities to “The Sun,” a generally optimistic, positive card. In both images, there is a figure holding a flag atop a white horse. Where “Death” features a skeletal knight holding a black flag, indiscriminately trampling over people (as death does), “The Sun” has a cherubic child sitting atop the same white horse, wearing the same plume in their hair, waving a lively red flag. Neither card is good or evil - they are necessarily intertwined. They show that life and vitality and beginnings, as well as death and change and endings, are a part of the same cycle.

In Earthsea, Ged made the grave mistake of repressing his shadow until it became too much for him to deal with. Only when he finally accepted this darker, more animalistic aspect of himself was he able to become whole again. In the same way, ignoring death and change and evil will make the inevitable all the more traumatic in the end. After all, “We need to see ourselves and the shadows we cast [...] so that when we grow into our strength and responsibility as adults in society, we will be less inclined, perhaps, either to give up in despair or to deny what we see, when we must face the evil that is done in the world, and the injustices and grief and suffering that we all must bear, and the final shadow at the end of all” (66).

[david-hayashi-deactivated202304]

Earthsea Chapter 8-10 post

“to each it seemed queer that the other, so different, yet was his own age, nineteen years. Ged marveled how one who had lived nineteen years could be so carefree… Murre envied him even the scars that scored his face, and thought them the track of a dragon’s claws and the very rune and sign of a hero” (Le Guin 190).

Ged and Murre are so young, yet their vocations as wizard or woodworker lead them on vastly different paths in life. I bet differences like these are only exacerbated as people get older and their paths lead them even farther from each-other.

These two remind me of how young adults (around 21) who attend college or choose to enlist in the military at 18 look at each-other. We each envy and dislike certain aspects about the path that the other has taken, but as any Wizard of Earthsea might say, we each take the path through life that is meant for us, even if that path occasionally means sailing to the end of the earth to have an epic embrace with your shadow.

p.s. Did anyone else get crazy Frankenstein vibes watching Ged pursue his creation across the sea before it could get back at him again?

[jasmakesplaces]

I definitely feel the same way as Murre whenever I read stories about young, magical protagonists like Ged. He's nineteen and has already learned so much of his magical craft, fought dragons, sailed across his world. He's basically our age, but he's doing way cooler stuff. Still, he's paid the price for his epic life, and I don't really envy him for having to grow up so quickly and learn responsibility for his powers. I guess there always has to be a balance.

[jasmakesplaces]

sea you someday! - wizard of earthsea chp 10

For people so interconnected by the sea, there is a greater sense of physical and cultural isolation for people in places that are too far away from the “hub”. As Ged traverses the archipelago and its peripheral islands on the quest for his shadow, the people he comes across perceive him with varying levels of apprehension, curiosity, and recognition. 

At the end of chapter 8, Ged reaches the West Hand, where “the villagers were rough shy people, awed by a wizard’s staff, wary of a strange face, but hospitable to one who came alone, over sea, before a storm” (176). They are on the northern end of the East Reach, with the antagonistic Kargad Lands to the North and Open Sea to the East, so they likely don’t see many strangers pass through. Still, the Hands are close enough to other islands that they have managed to hear tales of wizards and the power they are able to wield, though they rarely have the chance to meet them in person.

In contrast, Ged and Vetch come to Astowell in chapter 10, far beyond the East Reach, the Lastland before the habitable world seems to end. The wizards are met with more initial hostility, especially because “no boat had ever braved the seas round Astowell” (203). The women and children draw away in fear, and the men gather around Ged and Vetch armed with weapons. Unlike in the West Hand, Astowell’s apprehension is caused by their appearance as strangers in general rather than because they are powerful. The people “seemed not to recognize the young wizards’ staffs for what they were” (203), astonished that Ged was an Archipelagan rather than a wizard.

[tale-of-two-places]

Beginning Earthsea

First interpretation of the world building of Earthsea compared to that of Middle Earth is that Ursula Le Guin is good at getting to the point… ehem… At first glance, Ged’s home is not much like the Shire in terms of appearance. It doesn’t necessarily feel as isolated, and she describes it as being near mountains and forests, which the characters within the world don’t seem to be too warry of. In fact, when under threat, they “Fled up the ravines and hid in the forest” (10). There are some similarities, though, namely I found that both cultures are peaceful, for in the same instance, Ged’s village was caught off guard by the attack as “There had been no weapons in the village but hunting bows and short knives, for the mountain folk of Gont are not warlike” (10). Similarly to the Shire, Gont does not expect war nor does it prepare for it.

[jasmakesplaces]

I agree that the people of Ten Alders are similar to Hobbits in their peacefulness, though less wary of outsiders and the natural world around them. Perhaps Le Guin wanted Ged to grow up in a place that was small and isolated, yet still allowed him to develop his natural curiosity.

[jasmakesplaces]

it takes a village to raise a wizard - warriors in the mist

Despite there being “no one to bring the child up in tenderness” (2), Duny seems to have picked up many different skills from the people of Ten Alders. Duny was a goatherder, a smith’s boy, a budding mage, and the savior of his town, all before the age of 13. Le Guin notes that the witch had taught Duny most of what she knew - knowledge she had learned from her own teacher - the amount of which was “more than enough for a boy of twelve” (7). He even learned spells of Illusion from “weatherworkers and wandering jugglers” (7), which would end up helping him save his village from the Kargs’ attack. This shows that knowledge is usually specialized for the people of Gont, yet still freely offered to those who wish to learn new things. I feel that this upbringing contributes to Duny’s desire to learn, though his path may be hindered by his proud and potentially immature personality.

[ca-wolly19]

This Article Made LotR A Lot Heavier Than Before

Tolkien's harrowing experiences at the Battle of the Somme (Livingston, 2006) doubtless had connections to the events both written and depicted in The Lord of the Rings. From the souls floating cold and terrified in the Dead Marshes, to the huge battles for Isengard and Gondor. His real life experiences give rise to his ability for understanding and representing such intense events. Something that sets The Lord of the Rings apart from other fantasy genres is its intensity both in scale and lore. Tolkien is among the rare few who has seen what the surroundings of the end of the world looks like and has managed to implement elements of it into text. Frodo is an example of a representation of how one would act having survived events such as he has, coming from the background he had (Livingston, 2006).

[jasmakesplaces]

I agree that Tolkien's real life experiences definitely make LOTR a more realistic (and likely more respectful) representation of the trauma of war. Just like with his dedication to naming and language, Tolkien had the unique ability to make his stories that much more human.

[jasmakesplaces]

landscapes of indecision - dante’s inferno

Within a Hero’s Journey (where some Ordinary Guy™ gets a call to action, faces some challenges, experiences some growth and triumph, etc.), a story’s setting can represent the threshold between safety and danger that its characters are facing. 

For Dante, this threshold comes in the form of nightfall at the beginning of Canto 2. He can see Heaven in the distance, but the simplest path is blocked by beasts. Dante must instead endure the literal depths of Hell to complete his quest and reach his destination. He says:

“The day was now departing; the dark air released the living beings of the earth from work and weariness; and I myself

alone prepared to undergo the battle both of the journeying and of the pity, which memory, mistaking not, shall show.”

(Inferno, Canto 2, trans. Mandelbaum)

While those who live on earth are retiring to their beds, Dante realizes that he does not belong with them anymore. Without any real choice in the matter, he must embark on this arduous journey - the call to action has been made and he is more than just A Guy now.

In a similar way, Sam and Frodo’s arrival at the Dead Marshes represents a doorway into a more treacherous path. They have travelled so far to get here, and they cannot shy away from the danger now. Yet, the landscape just really wants to remind them that they are in for a tough time ahead. The Marshes straddle the line between land and water, between the living and undead, and safety and danger.

[theyannyshow]

Evil Looking In All the Wrong Places

It’s always been interesting to me to think about how evil always ends up looking the other way when it comes to stories. Of course, this is partly because most of the time, good will win, and in order for them to win, the villain typically needs to be unaware and vulnerable in some way. It just so happens that this vulnerability is, a lot of the time, them simply looking in the wrong place. In the LOTR, Gollum says that the Eye of Sauron is always watching the main road leading up to the gates, and that “His Eye watches that way all the time” (pg. 625). I feel like he’s always watching that direction because it’s where he is the most vulnerable. Villain or not, people will usually think more about what they feel the most vulnerable in just because it’s the nature of having insecurities. With villains, I can imagine that that is only heightened because of the amount of power they may feel they have to hold on to. Although Sauron may seem extremely powerful, it’s that power that may be his weakness; he has more to lose, and he knows it. There is also the other point of the amount of self-confidence power brings. Sauron most likely thinks himself superior to other beings, and so underestimates them and thinks they would all try to get through the main gate. One of the main ideas of the LOTR trilogy however is that the very creatures and people he would underestimate the most are the ones that eventually destroy the ring and all of Sauron’s power. These Hobbits don’t have any power to lose, which is part of the reason they end up destroying the Eye of Sauron.

[jasmakesplaces]

You gave really good reasons as to why villains always seem to look the wrong way! While I’m sure plot armor plays its part in helping out the protagonists, I agree that those with more to lose often make more mistakes, be it out of overconfidence or paranoia. Sauron probably expected an army would try and take him on, since his forces were so numerous and powerful. It makes sense that the little guys (literally) would be able to sneak past Sauron’s defenses in the end.

[jasmakesplaces]

poisoned the water supply (with ghoOoOsts) - dead marshes

As I was reading about the deathly faces of long-dead soldiers appearing in the marsh, I thought of the river Styx from Greek mythology. I was under the impression that the river Styx was full of floaty, moaning ghosts who couldn’t make it to their final destination for one reason or another. This was not the case. Or, I should clarify, this was not the case for anyone other than Disney. None of the sources I found on Greek mythology mentioned souls in the river Styx (or any of the other Underworld rivers), nor did any Percy Jackson wiki I read through.

After a pathetic number of Google searches, I finally found something close to what I was imagining! Some waterlogged lost souls can be seen in Disney’s Hercules (1997). Looking back and comparing the movie to the actual mythology, I see that Disney has taken some ~liberties~ in its adaptation, so I’ll be using Hercules as a standalone story rather than as a representation of the original myth.

In book 4, chapter 2 of The Two Towers, Frodo mentions the dead in the marsh having “grim faces and evil, and noble faces and sad. Many faces proud and fair, and weeds in their silver hair. But all foul, all rotting, all dead” (628). This variety of people is also represented in the scene from Hercules, where those from all walks of life float endlessly in the Underworld. Like the Dead Marshes, the Styx is dangerous, a barrier between the living and the dead. If one dares to enter the water, they risk becoming another floating corpse. Both protagonists, Frodo and Hercules, are brought near this tenuous border as a result of their dangerous quests, representing their (or their loved ones’) potential futures if they fail.

[faithlessishethatsaysfarewell]

Pattern and order in hall-life

One of the sections that struck me about the Hume article was how the hall represents a sense of “pattern and order,” constructed by “all the ceremony, all the elaborate beauty of hall-treasures and decorations” and “the music and the stories of past heroes” (Hume 66). In the midst of uncertainty and tumultuous times (we can see that those who slept in the hall slept warily and in constant fear that the hall would be attacked), the hall seemed to serve as a refuge, the idea of epic heroes and chivalry brought to life. Theoden’s halls too are richly decorated with different colors and patterns, but also the reflections of a storied past. Over the spaces of the tapestries “marched figures of ancient legend,” with our attention drawn to an evocative image of Eorl the Young, the founding king of Rohan (510). Earlier too, Aragorn recites the words of an ancient poet about the same king, contributing to this conception of the hall as a place where the past and present mingle. It is here that Theoden feels the weight of his ancestors’ legacy most strongly, through ceremony and song. Like the hall that served as a refuge from the “chaos” of the outside, so too does the ceremonial drinking and gift-giving at Meduseld offer a measure of comfort from the news of impending war. 

[jasmakesplaces]

The role of the hall as a refuge in an uncertain world is a very interesting one. In LOTR, I think Tolkien subverts this idea with the initial darkness of Meduseld. The decorations that indicate a glorious legacy are obscured and the king’s connection to his ancestors (and his path) is dulled until Wormtongue is removed.