Writing fiction, it sometimes seems, requires one to be familiar with nearly the entire corpus of human knowledge, along with possessing an intimate and executable understanding of human nature. I came across a story recently about alternative world, historically adjacent gladiatorial combat, and while the author had clearly studied history and linguistics to write the story, other areas were left notably unexplored. The treatment of wounds, for instance, was rather vague and anachronistic, of which I happen to be particularly aware due to my present reading of The Healing Hand. Far more significant to a story than any technical details, however, is the deep thinking that must go into addressing complex, human topics, like the idea of leadership. Other aspects of a story matter, but the ability to compellingly explore a topic like leadership is what separates the best stories from the rest.
The fifth book in Wheel of Time starts Rand al’Thor on a leadership arc that will take many books to resolve, as he wrestles with a question that few of us will ever have to confront, but which bedevils theories of leadership, especially in other periods of history: how much can a leader allow himself or herself to care, on the individual level, about the people around her or him? When there is an overriding priority, such as Rand has in winning the Last Battle, is it weakness to count the deaths of the individuals involved in doing what is necessary, is it weakness to refrain from using people, manipulating people, to achieve the “right” ending? The Fires of Heaven sees Rand trying to make himself hard and strong enough to do what is necessary; he will continue wrestling with the idea in future books, and I would argue that Jordan does a better job of exploring the ideas and the humanity involved than any work of philosophy.
One of the more interesting and challenging aspects of writing Wheel of Time I imagine to be Rand’s progressing madness. From a writing perspective, this must be done carefully, in a believable way, or the reader won’t accept the threat posed by the taint. Yet, madness is not really a diagnosable condition, and may never truly seem like madness to the person going mad. After all, Rand can see all of the logical steps he takes to get to a decision, even if others think him mad because they cannot see that thought process. Again, the third person limited perspective is an excellent tool to enable Jordan to show this progression and change to us without ever coming straight out and commenting on it.
In a massive book like this one, somehow there is not a single Perrin chapter. In fact, there is barely more than a mention or two to convince the reader that Jordan has not entirely forgotten about the blacksmith. It is a testament to the scale of Wheel of Time that an entire book can go by without more than a mention of one of the major protagonists in the story. I wish I could say how much this is a deliberate effort to convince the reader that Perrin really has managed to go his own way from Rand, how much it’s that Perrin really wasn’t doing anything of much note during the timespan covered by The Fires of Heaven, and how much it’s a reflection of Jordan perhaps not knowing exactly where to take Perrin’s arc next.
What is included in the book is enough to keep you from missing Perrin too much, though he is one of my favorite characters. Aviendha’s struggle with fate and the convoluted honor of the Aiel as a people are fascinating to read, as is Moraine’s arc. People who know about Eye of the World make much of the Gandalf figure in an epic fantasy being a woman, which in my opinion misses the story that’s actually be told. Moraine is not a female Gandalf – the world Jordan creates has no room for such a figure – for she is not an iconic character (iconic in the sense of not really changing over the course of the story). Gandalf, as much as he progresses from Gray to White, doesn’t really change throughout The Lord of the Rings. Moraine, though, is a fully-fledged character, with her own concerns, her own history, and her own arc. Despite searching for the Dragon Reborn for most of her life, she does not find that it turns out as she expects. We don’t get a lot of perspectives from her, because that would make it difficult to keep secrets necessary for the plot, but the letter Rand receives from her at the end of the book encapsulates just how much of an arc of her own she really has.
If there is an arc I could say Jordan mishandles in The Fires of Heaven, it is Nynaeve’s. Not her plot arc for the book, but her character arc. Much of Nynaeve’s character is built around stubbornness and a kind of earthy practicality, and while she has plenty of maturing and world-learning to do when she leaves the Two Rivers in Eye of the World, I personally find her maturation arc in The Fires of Heaven overstated. Yes, a lot of it is about developing self-awareness, but I don’t think her starting point is as low as it is presented here. It made some of her sections difficult to read, at times, and we do not get quite the payoff to justify it at the end of the book. The climax of her actions and their denouement is postponed to the next book (or perhaps happens off-page), which keeps the overall plot arc of this fifth book intact, but leaves Nynaeve’s arc feeling unfinished.
Speaking of unfinished, there are many plot threads remaining that are not addressed in this book, which must wait. This is probably the least stand-alone book so far, with an ending that feels the least like a true ending and turning point (well, except for Mat’s ending, who doesn’t have a huge role in The Fires of Heaven, but we get a satisfying look at who he’s becoming towards the end). That is not a critique, since it’s practically inevitable now that we are firmly in the heart of the series. What is a bit of a critique is the way balefire is used near the end of the book. It makes sense in that it is adequately foreshadowed, but it still feels arbitrary and overly convenient for the plot going forward, and the larger implications are concerning, considering the ways I am surprised it is not used in the future.
The title of this book is interesting, with its reference to heaven; Wheel of Time doesn’t really have a concept of an afterlife, per se, because it is built around reincarnation of a sort. Heaven, therefore, is not what someone in the Judeo-Christian tradition might think of as heaven, some celestial utopia to which souls go upon death, but more like a general concept of the distant sky. The Fires of Heaven refers, then, not to a religious concept, but again to the poetic verbiage of prophecy. An undercurrent of identity and free will runs through the series, and is just one of the reasons you should continue with your journey along the Pattern of the Wheel of Time.
IGC Publishing 