“And you, I asked. “Why are you here?”
“I am a volunteer.”
I looked at her in some surprise.
“Someone must make amends for the evil of Urth, or the New Sun will never come. And someone must call attention to this place and the others like it. I am of an armiger family that may yet remember me, and so the guards must be careful of me, and all of the others while I remain here.”
This is almost a nothing moment. A barely there kind of thing in the novel, but it presents such a dramatic and exponentially large aspect to this world. The concept of the New Sun has arisen sporadically throughout these two novels in the series but little time has been spent trying to make you, the reader, understand what this means.
And so why put this here?
Well, in the last chapter, we discovered that Severian is writing this while he is flying through space. Possibly towards the sun.
We know, through implication and reference, that the sun of Urth is dying. It’s a big swollen red circle in the sky and the Urth is cooler than it once was, darker than it once was. Who yet remembers the bright sun?
None living, but we have encountered, albeit briefly, people who live beneath that bright sun. We saw them in the botanical gardens back in Nessus when Severian was with Agia, right before he pulled Dorcas from death.
But here for the first time, I believe, is a sense that the New Sun is a sign of salvation.
Rather than the Christian salvation story that we know where Jesus saved us all, this woman presents a theology where we—all of us, together—must save ourselves. In doing so, we will be given a New Sun.
I think we could dig into this for a million words. The rest of Severian’s story could be about this. But we move on.
However, we must return to the fact that Severian told us he’s traveling through space. Perhaps to ignite this new sun. Perhaps carrying salvation with him. And he writes this testament—or, as he calls it, this history—for all of us on Urth who await the New Sun.
He is the Autarch and he brings salvation and a New Sun to light and warm the Urth he rules over.
So what can we draw from this?
Did Severian save us, his audience? Or, instead, is he going to give us a New Sun and let that be its own act of salvation?
These scattered little details that seem so insignificant may be pulled together to paint the canvas behind Severian’s words, illuminating not only his life but the world he lives in.
But we move on to Jonas who has a horrible reaction to his confinement here in the House Absolute. While Severian finds it an interesting and strangely comforting counterpoint to the Oubliette, Jonas is terrified.
And we learn, almost accidentally, that Jonas may be from that long ago Urth. He is not a man of the present or future, but possibly one of seven generations past.
How curious.
And we learn this through the recognition of a name. An extinct name that was once common.
How strangely woven is this web that we find ourselves in.
Severian feels quite hopeless, especially knowing that seven generations of a family have been imprisoned here, whose memories of the Urth and the life beyond these cells come like folktales. And though there is no hope but perhaps through Vodalus’ spy, Severian does not despair.
It is one of the more interesting aspects of him as a character and we see why this matters in contrast to Jonas.
Jonas reveals his weakness here. Or a new weakness. This fear cripples him and his desperation writhes and pushes him to extreme decisions, whereas Severian remains stoic in the face of potential perpetual imprisonment.
This is the kind of character we want to live inside and follow around.
We don’t want someone who cowers and runs wildly back and forth in fear.
We want a man like Severian.
It’s why he presents himself so.
Although I've never read Dante Alighieri's 'The Divine Comedy', this section did remind me of that story as I loosely understand it. Dante descends into hell accompanied by Virgil. Here we have Severian descending into the depths of the House Absolute, a subterranean estate, a chthonic fortress alongside his only friend Jonas. They find themselves lost in a dark prison with generations of condemned; Plunged into an abyss, exiled from the meager light of a dying sun.
There's some evidence in the new testament to support the idea that after the crucifixion, Jesus descended into hell or the realm of the dead. Apparently it was in order to free the noncriminal damned, born before his ultimate sacrifice was made, who'd been denied entry into Paradise. Makes me curious about what the narrative significance might be for having Severian trapped in such a forlorn place.
He is someone who's held, or at least overseen the imprisonment of many captives in his time at the matachin tower and felt very little for all of them, with one notable exception. Hopefully this experience will engender in him an appreciation for the soul's need to be free. Maybe he comes to think of the Urth itself as a prison and will seek to liberate mankind when he becomes Autarch.
I have many questions about this section of the story! Why is this chapter called Fool's Fire? It made me think of fool's gold at first. However, according to the Oxford English Dictionary it is a phosphorescent light seen at night hovering over bogs and marshes—a ghostly light that is said to mislead incautious travellers(i.e. ignis fatuus or foolish fire). Also, what is the nature of the terrifying events that conclude the chapter? I find the very last sentence to be especially haunting; Over the wild din I heard the clear laughter of a young woman; then it was gone.
The antechamber seems to be a place of many secrets and there's some very interesting things ahead! I can't wait to read more of your thoughts as we continue this journey!