Lant and Shun

I’m going to lump these two together, as they very much did for themselves. And wow – what a tough hang.

Starting with Lant: real disappointment for me. After the setup as failed Chade spy boy and his earlier interaction with Fitz, I had expectations. When he finally arrives at Withywoods as Bee’s teacher, I was hoping for some sort of mentorship arc, perhaps even a bond forming with Fitz.

Instead? He’s a let down.

He has a few okay moments, but for the most part he’s just kind of an ass.

And then there’s Shun.

She didn’t disappoint me, because she sucked so hard immediately, and therefore I never had any expectations to begin with.

And boy does she suck. Entitled and vapid. She is maddening.

Now, I want to write her off completely. But it’s impossible to read Shun and not think of one Malta fucking Vestrit.

Is it possible she escapes the Withywoods massacre, and that losing Lant forces her to reprioritize a bit? Could she play a role in saving the trapped children? I can’t really picture myself being particularly endeared to Shun, but I know better than to doubt Robin’s witchcraft.

This is all, of course, assuming she’s even alive moving forward. We shall see!

I’ve said it many times, but it bears repeating: Robin Hobb’s portrayal of grief on page is masterful.

As with Nighteyes, Molly’s death, and its ongoing effects, are handled so adeptly.

There are myriad small moments where grief creeps up on Bee or Fitz – sharp, unexpected stabs of emotional pain.

First, Fitz:

“I scratched my cheek and felt how deep my beard had grown. I’d still not trimmed it, I suddenly realized, and Molly had not rebuked me. All thoughts fled my mind for a moment as a wave of loss drenched and drowned me again.”

And then Bee, as she is shown her new room and clothing:

“I did not know how to feel. All this new clothing, all at once, and none of it made by my mother’s hands. No one had held it up against me to check the length, or asked if I would have flowers or scrolls round the hem. I knit my brow and tried to comprehend my mother’s death, all over again. Every time I thought I had mastered it, some new manifestation of it would overwhelm me.”

Speechless.

In a league of her own.

I don’t really know the general reception or consensus around the Fitz and the Fool trilogy, but I would imagine the introduction of Bee’s POV is at least somewhat divisive.

Personally? I love it.

Not only does it keep the story feeling fresh and expansive, but the opportunity to see Fitz from the outside is fascinating.

After six-and-some-change books of experiencing everything through Fitz’s lens – his perspective, his self-image – it’s incredible to suddenly get another angle. And we’ve always had hints that Fitz’s perception isn’t entirely reliable (his “known” bad temper that really isn’t a part of his self-identity). Hell, the entire premise of him recording his life is rooted in that tension between truth and perception.

It’s these kinds of meta layers that elevate this story – and Robin’s craft – to another level. History and perception are shaped by who is telling the story, where they are in their life, where their loyalties lie, and so on. Even the same person will tell the same story differently depending on when they’re telling it.

So all that to say: getting these outside glimpses – through Bee, of Fitz and the reaction of others to Fitz from Bee is endlessly compelling. You’d think stepping away from his POV might weaken our connection to him a bit, but for me, it’s doing the opposite. It’s deepening it.

Since this is starting to veer into critical essay territory, I’ll offer two quick examples to support my thesis:

First, Fitz’s confrontation with the dog torturer in the market, as seen through Bee:

“The dog butcher ceased his mewling and grew still. He looked up at my father as if he looked at Death himself.”

And then Bee’s observation of Lant’s reaction to Fitz:

“I saw that he looked at my father almost anxiously, as if his approval was extremely important. He fears him, I thought to myself. And then I thought how silly I was not to realize that Scribe Lant was very vulnerable, not just in that he had seen what my father was capable of when he was a boy, but also in that he was relying on my father’s hospitality to remain safely hidden.”

We do get moments of Fitz recognizing how others might see him, but they’re always filtered through his own wounds, his own (not-so-great) self-concept.

And of course, Bee’s perception of Fitz isn’t neutral either. He’s her father. A larger-than-life protector.

But this additional lens – this new way of seeing him – is incredibly enriching for an already potent character.

(Also, in the interest of preventing this from tilting too scholarly: getting to watch Daddy Fitz do daddy things is, generally speaking, appreciated. Apologies to Bee.)

I really enjoyed in the wake of Molly’s death, Fitz gaining appreciation for everything she did to keep the estate running. He’s basically like, “damn, why isn’t my laundry getting done, and boy, my sheets are getting funky.”

It’s a bit of a love letter to the often underappreciated “women’s work” that is so vital to keep things functioning.

“Molly, I thought to myself. I had believed that I spoiled her with my attentions and gifts. Actually, she was the one who had spoiled me, allowing me to wake in the morning and think first of what I needed to do that day, rather than what someone else needed done.”

Robin’s such a real one. She just gets it.

Bonus “I feel seen” moment:

“It seemed to me that just as I was already overwhelmed the manor turned on me and developed every imaginable problem.”

As a parent and a homeowner… just, yes.

One observation as we move about a third of the way through our final trilogy: there’s been very little connection to the broader realm so far.

Notably, a distinct lack of dragon and/or Elderlings. I’m anticipating at least some degree of infusion as the story proceeds, which means we’ve got two books to really pack it in.

We do get a little teaser right at the end when Fitz returns to Buckkeep with the Fool- there’s a dinner underway with “delegates from Bingtown, Jamaillia, and Kelsingra.” 🚨🚨🚨

Bingtown and Kelsingra, you say??

I’m hoping whoever is in town is
a) one of our southern A-team players (don’t insult me with Serilla), and
b) about to get in the mix.

I’m always pulling for more Reyn and we’ve got some unexplored dreamwalking connections I’d like to delve into.

And I for sure need Fitz getting into it with some dragons. At this point, the various magics across this world need to start colliding.

Lastly, I don’t ask for much, but please please please can I have Fitz sailing on ShipFitz in pursuit of Bee???

This may be my favorite paragraph of the entire series:

“It was intriguing to ponder that the first set of love letters was from Burrich, who raised my father and later wed my mother, raising my sister as if she were his child and fathering six boys of his own with her. So his first love had been Lady Patience, wife to my grandfather? And later he had raised my father, before marrying my mother? The contorted branches of my family tree dizzied and fascinated me.”

Just the most perfect summary of the absolutely batshit relations in this family.

Such a fun little wink to us readers. Right there with you, Bee.

All-time Fitz line:

“One always falls back on one’s strongest talents in time of distress. So I lied.”

Made even better by the fact that this is the prelude to him reassuring Shun she isn’t a nuisance.

🤌

Sooo… Chade is Shun’s father, yes?

Pervy old ass impregnated her mother at some Buckkeep festival when she was nineteen. Ugh.

Sometimes I wonder if my hatred of Chade is a little over the top. I know deeply flawed characters are sort of a signature of this series. But I’m never more than a few chapters away from feeling completely vindicated in my feelings toward him.

And once again, we have a moment where we really have to question Fitz’s deduction abilities.

He immediately clocks Shun as Farseer blood. Not Dutiful’s. Not his. Hmmm.

If only there was another Farseer man, one known for tomcatting around Buckkeep. 🤮

And on top of that, what could possibly explain Chade’s overinvolvement in Shun’s life?

A real stumper, this one.

Okay, your girl left herself a lot to cover, and I would like to wrap this up and keep moving.

So here’s a quick brain dump of very important Bee-related things that I haven’t properly touched on, but absolutely deserve mention:

• Bee as a White. Her prophetic dreams (snake boat dream!!). Whatever was going on with her on market day with the brain fog.
• Wolf Father! It is criminal that I’m relegating this to a sub-bullet, because force-ghost Nighteyes certainly deserves better. Obviously I love his dream-spirit guidance, and will take him in any form I can get him.
• Her connections with Fitz: Skill and Wit. Secret tunnel pals!
• Her crush on Lant and jealousy of Shun. Pitch perfect and such an effective reminder that, for all her extraordinariness, Bee is still just a young girl.
• Wit-chatting with cats. Never too much cat.

Alright, probably could/should write an entire in-depth musing on each of those points, but we press on.

I really am trying to wrap this up. But as I was going back through my highlights to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, I came across this line from Nettle, and I simply cannot leave it out.

“People love you far more than you deserve, Tom Badgerlock. But you don’t even believe that they love you at all.” I was still pondering that when she added, “And I am one of those people.”

There’s a lot packed into that. 😮‍💨