Chapter 19: Bad Things

Hello, and welcome back to our irregularly scheduled nonsense!

Last time, I got to share maybe the worst chapter I've ever read in fiction!  Nothing makes sense anymore, and Houck threw out a book and a half worth of worldbuilding.  I'm not exactly sure why, either.  What does the Greek/Roman stuff really add to the story?  Especially when there are perfectly serviceable Hindu and Buddhist stories that would a) work better and b) not give me an aneurysm?

Take the World Tree thing, for example.  Lots of religions have a version of the World Tree (as Mr. Kadam helpfully explained before, and then completely skimmed over instead of actually telling us anything useful or important), including the shared Hindu/Buddhist/Jainist Kalpavriksha.  This World Tree is the Milky Way, planted by Indra (king of the gods) in some versions of the story.  It is said to grant wishes, and is central to the conflict between the demons and the gods.  In Buddhism, it also grants long life.

Or, even better, let's look at the Silvanae.  They're horrifically out of place (and use a Latin name for the species despite all having Greek names).  BUT, let's look at what Hinduism and Buddhism gives us.  Oh, hey, there's a group of nature spirits (often associated specifically with trees) called the Yaksha and Yakshini, which are male and female attendants of Kubera, the Hindu god of wealth.  They live in the kingdom of Alaka, which is located in, hm, the Himalayas.  You know, where Shangri-la is supposed to be.  And since Shangri-la is completely made up in the first place for a novel from the 1930s, it's not that much of a stretch to believe that the fictionalized Shangri-la could be based on the realm of the god of wealth, hmm?

A Yakshini underneath an asoka tree.

Why am I taking the time to point this stuff out, you may ask.  Well, unlike Houck, I have a point that I'm trying to make.  The way Tiger's Quest reads (to me, at least), it feels like Houck just...ran out of ideas for worldbuilding?  Which is why we have an "all myths are true" story just dropped into our laps in a single chapter.  That's why she decided to use Greek mythology, I think--it's something the audience (and by extension, Houck herself) is more familiar with, coming from a Western background, so when you decide to write about tree nymphs, Greek mythology understandably comes to mind first.  But there's really no excuse for running out of ideas, if this is the case, because you have an incredibly rich source of mythology that you're already using!  Hinduism and Buddhism are ancient!

Anyway.

This time, Kelsey and Kishan leave Greek mythology and mosey on over to Norse mythology.  Ugh.

Chapter Nineteen: Bad Things

I could make a joke that this should have been the title of the whole book, but I'm above that.

I would like to issue a correction for the end of the last post, when I said that Kishan and Kelsey were leaving the Silvanae village.  They were actually heading back to the Silvanae village, because we're not quite done with Faunus & Co.  In my defense, it was a really long, especially terrible chapter, and I (justifiably, I think) assumed that Kelsey would be anxious to, you know, do Plot stuff now that they know where they need to go.  But that would mean expecting Kelsey to act like a real character, so whoops.

Nah, they head back to the Silvanae to have breakfast.  Even though they have the Golden Fruit, and can literally make their own food whenever they want, which means they don't have to hang out here any more since they already have what they came for.  The Silvanae give them some new travel clothes, which is nice of them, I guess.

Both of us were given lightweight shirts, khaki pants with a subtle sheen, and plush-lined boots.

Because that's the first thing I think of when I think of magical, whimsical fairies.  Khaki.

Kelsey asks if the boots are made out of leather, and the Silvanae and fairies are shocked that people in the real world kill animals for their skin.  Nah, instead, the fairies weave all of the Silvanae's cloth, and it's awesome.

But wait...if we go back to when Faunus was introduced:

He was barefoot and wore pants that looked like they were made from doeskin.

I'm starting to get some bad vibes from Faunus.  Like he's a serial killer or something.

The Silvanae also tell Kelsey that while they're traveling, if they hang their clothes on a tree branch overnight, the fairies will clean and repair the clothes while they sleep.

Um.  The fairies are troubling.  They are wholly reliant on the Silvanae for their reproductive cycle--the Silvanae let the flowers seed to produce a fairy, and the Silvanae take care of the flower in order to keep that fairy alive.  The fairies serve as the Silvanae's light sources, make and the Silvanae's clothes, and literally hold their hair in place.  Are, uh, are the fairies slaves?  I hate this.

Anyway, Kelsey and Kishan finish their breakfast and are busy "loung[ing]" at the table.  Ren!  Torture!  You know exactly where you need to go to complete the quest to find him!  Ahem.  They're hanging out doing absolutely nothing, and Faunus comes up to them with the baby from the last chapter, and tells them that his parents want them to name him.  For some reason.

Hey, what exactly have Kelsey and Kishan done that's ingratiated them with the Silvanae enough to warrant asking them to name a baby?  I guess at least a couple of them think that they're both hot, but they haven't done them a great service or anything.  They've eaten their food and crashed at their village for a couple nights, but that's literally it.

Anyway, Faunus gives Kelsey the baby, and he's very cute.  Also, way more developed than a human infant would be at a day old, and he grabs onto Kelsey's hair and pulls it.  I, too, would instinctively pull Kelsey's hair, because she's annoying.  Kishan frees Kelsey's hair from the iron grip of a literal baby, and offers him his finger to hold onto instead.

Kelsey says she'd like to name him after Kishan's grandfather Tarak, and Kishan says that's a good idea.  Hey, why not his supposedly awesome father, Rajaram?  Unless she's saving it for her own future children, I guess (note: I have no idea if this happens, since I haven't finished the series yet, but I have a Hunch).  But I have no idea why Kelsey immediately settles on Tarak, but whatever.

Kelsey tells Faunus about her decision, and the Silvanae cheer for...some reason.  Kishan says that Kelsey will make a good mother, because that's something you can tell from giving a baby a name.  Kelsey leaves to get changed.

When I came back, he was rocking the sleeping baby in his arms and staring thoughtfully at its little face.

ITS??

He hands Tarak back to Kelsey to go get changed, and touches her cheek.  Dude.  She's already made it clear that she's not into you.  Stop.

Anyway, now they leave to go find the omphalos stone.  Guess we needed that super important baby-naming scene.

Wait, it gives Kelsey and Kishan an excuse to talk about their feelings some more, if you wanted more romantic tension in the love triangle.  Which, if you're unironically reading this book, is the reason you're reading this book.  Kelsey points out that Kishan has been acting kind of weird, and Kishan tells her about his dream vision.  He says he saw her holding a newborn baby named Anik--her son.  Gotta remember, the goal of every woman in a relationship is makin' babies.  Kishan says that there was someone else there, but he couldn't see who, which means that either he or Ren is the father.

Or, just some conjecture here, Kelsey dumps both Ren and Kishan because they're both kind of awful, and ends up having a wonderful, passionate relationship with another guy who isn't a massive creep.

"He looked like us, Kelsey.  I mean . . . he's either Ren's or . . . he's mine."

Is he saying what I think he's saying?

I dunno, Kelsey, he was pretty up-front about it.  Kelsey is dumb as a box of rocks.

I conjured in my mind a sweet baby boy with Ren's vivid blue eyes; in a flash, the eyes changed color and became as golden as an Arizona desert.

As an Arizona native, the Arizona desert is brown as hell.  It's not ~~~golden~~~ or whatever purple prose you want to use, it's all a dirt brown color.  Everything.

Kishan says that he didn't think he wanted anything like that with anyone but Yesubai, but he felt proud and protective (which are the only two emotions he and Ren can feel, evidently), and he realized that he wants it with Kelsey.  He asks Kelsey if she dreamed about anything she'd like to share with him in return, and she says she doesn't (since hers were literally all about Ren, which shows what a one-track mind she has).

His confession bothers her, and she tells herself not to think about what she'll do if they can't rescue Ren.  We get this in a typical Houck paragraph of inner narration, which means we get the same sentence about five times in a row with slight variations of beige prose.

I was bothered by Kishan's confession.  I didn't want to deal with this, didn't want to hurt him.  There were so many unresolved questions.  Words formed in my mind, but I couldn't seem to find the courage to broach the subject.  This was bad!

*Shudders* this writing is bad.

They finally get to a cave with minimal conversation along the way.  They head underground, and Kelsey helpfully lets the reader know that "it was dark."  Gee, thanks, I never would have guessed that a cave was dark.  Using narration to show us how dark it is, and how that makes the characters feel?  Nah, that's hard.

She pulls out a flashlight, and this part feels like an actual fever dream.

Something brushed past my face.  Bees!  The cave was full of bees.  The walls were dripping with honeycomb.  It was like we'd stepped into a giant beehive.  

Something about the way this is written rubs me the wrong way.  It looks like it wouldn't be out of place in, like, a picture book aimed at really young kids.  If that makes sense?  It's incredibly simplistic narration, especially in a book that's so preoccupied with love triangles and that used the word "rape" a couple chapters ago.  Yeah, I still remember that, Houck.

Anyway, there's a pedestal in the middle of the room with the omphalos stone on it, which isn't italicized anymore, because consistent editing is for chumps.

Kelsey gets stung by a bee, and Kishan says that if they're slow and quiet, the bees won't go after them.  The bees can't sting through the fairy cloth, but Kelsey still complains about getting stung a couple times.  Kelsey asks Kishan what to do, and he suggest trying her lightning power on it.  Kelsey is incapable of coming up with solution for herself, and decades of feminism sheds a single tear.

The stone changes color and starts to smoke, which makes the bees drop out of the air like "fat gumdrops."  lolwat

Kishan says that she should inhale the fumes coming from the stone, like the Oracle of Delphi.  Again, Kelsey--who's the one with the educational background and informed trait of "smart"--should be the one who thinks of the solution, but she's an idiot, so nope.  She inhales the smoke, and whew, I have no idea why the prose in this chapter is so bad, but we get the blandest description of a hallucinogenic vision I've ever seen in my life.

Leaning over, I took a big whiff.  I saw shootings stars and colors.  Kishan become distorted, his body twisted and elongated.  Then, I was sucked into a powerful vision.

That's the extent of the description we get as it's happening.  It's...so bad...

Like, this kind of scene allows you to get really wacky and creative with your visuals and, more importantly, what your first-person perspective protagonist actually thinks and feels, which allows the reader to experience it alongside the character.  Any time a protagonist's perception is altered, for whatever reason, can lead to a really interesting scene.  The climax of Thud! where Vimes, pushed to his limit physically and mentally by the Summoning Dark, goes into a berserk rage not being able to read to Young Sam pushes him over the edge.  It's a great scene for a lot of reasons, and one of those is because of how it's narrated--Vimes's perception of the events going on around him is distorted and weird.

Uh, anyway.  Kelsey comes to in the jungle outside (which makes me realize that the scenery was not described at all until Kelsey says they're "back in the jungle again", because this book was edited by monkeys), and Kishan is applying some salve to her bee stings.  She, shockingly, complains about it.

It say it wafted a strong odor would be an understatement.  The fetor permeated my hair, my clothes, and everything around us.

Fetor???

Kelsey says that she saw the tree and the four houses, as well as something else.  There's a big snake wrapped around the bottom of the tree.  So, like, Nidhogg??  Or, uh, the dragon at the base of the tree with the Golden Fleece?  What????

Before they leave, Kelsey applies the goo to Kishan's stings.  Well, he asks her to, because Kelsey is actually pretty selfish.  She comments on how "his bronze skin was smooth and warm" for all those screaming Kelshan fangirls.

Along the hike to the World Tree, Kishan asks Kelsey to tell him another story, so get ready for another really purple Kelsey Story that isn't accurate.  She elects to tell him one of the Gilgamesh stories, which I am admittedly less familiar with than Greek mythology, so I'll do my best.

Anyway, Gilgamesh was really smart, and disguised himself to get to the plant of eternity.  Kishan asks what it was, and Kelsey literally just makes stuff up.

"I'm not sure.  It could've been tea leaves, or something they put in their salad or food.  Or, perhaps it was an herb or maybe even a drug like opium, but the point is he stole it. [. . .]"

1) Pointless and 2) please don't remind me of the opium nonsense from before.

Gilgamesh ran away for a few days, and the gods were angry when they find out he stole the plant.  On the fifth night, he got tired from running, and went to sleep.  He put the plant into a rabbit-skin bag, and while he was asleep, a snake swallowed it, thinking it was a rabbit.  When Gilgamesh woke up, all he found was a snakeskin, which is the first time a snake shed its skin, and from then on, snakes were said to have an "eternal nature."  

Shockingly, this isn't what happens in the actual story!  Or, it does happen, but it misunderstands what it's saying and takes the scene completely out of context.  Kelsey presents it as an origin story for why snakes shed their skin which is...not accurate.  This scene is part of a larger section of The Epic of Gilgamesh where Gilgamesh, reminded of his own mortality at the death of his friend Enkidu, tries to become immortal.  He tries and fails to stay awake for six days and nights (which is where Houck took the "fifth night" thing), steals a magic plant that grants immortality that is swallowed by a snake (yes, leading to the first snake skin), and ultimately fails to become immortal, choosing instead to write out his life story.  Like, the point of the snake scene is to point out that becoming immortal is impossible and not something to strive for.

As a final point, why do we have to read this?  Usually, when characters in a story talk about things, especially when they take the time to tell a very long story, there's, you know, a point to it?  When Aragorn sings about Beren and Luthien, it's actually relevant and reveals a lot about his character.  When Kelsey tells Kishan about Chloris and Gilgamesh, it's the most unfiltered filler I think I've ever seen in a novel.

Anyway, Kishan thanks Kelsey for the story, and goes to sleep, but Kelsey can't sleep because she's thinking about a golden-eyed baby.  Women be baby crazy, amirite?

Ugh.

Scene break!  The next morning, they continue on to the World Tree.  There's a forest of giant trees that Kelsey didn't see in her vision, but as they get closer they realize that the forest is actually one giant tree with lots of limbs.  So, it's in a valley, and is taller than the mountains that they're walking on to get to the valley?  Or something?  I have no idea what this looks like.  Kelsey flips through Mr. Kadam's notes to exposit a bit about what it is, because I guess literally seeing a magical vision of what it is isn't cool enough to talk about.

"He said it's a giant world tree with roots descending to the underworld and leaves touching heaven.  It's supposed to be a thousand feet wide and thousands of feet tall.  I'm guessing this is it."

Except some cultures have a World Tree and no underworld or heaven.  Like Hinduism.  Which this series was supposed to be about.

It's spooky and dark by the trunk of the tree.  Kelsey tries to make a joke by saying the tree nymphs born from this tree would be huge, but this spooks them.  This isn't foreshadowing or anything, it's just dumb. 

They decide to camp for the night and look for a way up in the morning.

I heard a flapping noise and was surprised to see a black raven settle on the ground near our camp.

Oh, fuck off.

Kishan asks for another story, because that's a Character Thing for Kelsey now, even though before the last chapter she showed no interest in telling stories to people.  Because of the raven, Kelsey tells Kishan about Odin and Hugin and Munin.  Kelsey says that Odin used Hugin and Munin to steal thoughts and memories from people, so that way he knew everything that was happening around him.  One day, Munin was captured by "a traitor," so when Hugin returned to Odin, he couldn't remember what Hunin said.  That night, "an enemy" snuck in and overthrew Odin, and after that people stopped believing in the gods.  This legend is why people think ravens are bad omens.

Hooookay.  I asked my friend who's doing the Hounded spork I've mentioned before (plug) if this was a thing in Norse mythology, because he's more knowledgable about this stuff than I am.  Considering I've cobbled together an understanding of Norse mythology from Horrible Histories, Runemarks, and Age of Mythology (Isis is the best major god, fight me).  And Hugin and Munin weren't really thieves as much as they were scouts.  I guess you could consider "flying into enemy territory and reporting back" stealing information, but that's a massive stretch.  And while there is a source apparently that says Odin wondered what would happen if they didn't come back, neither my friend nor I could find a record of that actually happening at any point.

And I am really struggling to understand why Kelsey (and by extension, Houck) likes to turn every myth into a "Just So" story.  You know, stories that say things like "elephants have long trunks because Crocodile bit Elephant's nose."

Look, I was a cool kid who read somewhat obscure Rudyard Kipling short stories.

Yeah, ravens are bad omens, but it's not because they're associated with Odin in this fake story.  They're bad omens because they eat dead things, and show up near battlefields to eat dead soldiers!

This story also doesn't really make sense internally, because it's just a series of unrelated things happening?  Why would Odin being defeated mean that people stopped believing in the gods?  Sure, Odin was the leader, but Norse mythology has a whole pantheon of gods.  If Hugin and Munin stole thoughts and memories at night while people were asleep, how did they even know it was happening?  If people don't believe in gods anymore, why would seeing a raven be a bad omen, since the bad thing they were associated with is thought to be fictional?  It's kind of a mess.

However, this story has a bit of a point, since they actually talk about things afterwards instead of saying, "That was a good story!"  Kishan asks if she's afraid the raven will steal her memories, and she says that her memories of Ren are "the most precious things that [she possesses] right now."  Kishan says that for a long time he would have given anything to wipe his memories clean of the whole Yesubai situation, and Kelsey gets to be all Deep and say that their pasts are a Part of Who They Are.  Additionally, it's a bit of foreshadowing for some dumb stuff at the end of the book!

The next morning, a bunch of their stuff is missing--the bracelet Ren gave Kelsey, the camera, and the honey cakes they got from the Silvanae.  Stewpid FAT hobbitses!  Yeah, it reads just like that scene in Return of the King where Gollum gets rid of all the food.  Also, the Matt Damon Amulet is missing.

"What happened?  How were we robbed in the middle of the night?  How could I not feel anyone taking things off my body as we slept?"  I cried frantically.

This doesn't sound like something you can "cry frantically," given that it's a series of very long, very weirdly phrased questions.

Kishan says it was probably the raven, because of Kelsey's story.  Kelsey says that it's a myth, and Kishan says that myths are often based on partial truths.  And, yeah, sure, but the ravens in Kelsey's story stole thoughts and memories, not shiny things!  So it's not even consistent!

Kelsey panics and asks what they should do, and Kishan says that they should keep going, since they still conveniently have their weapons and the Golden Fruit.  The whole point is to "have faith," so they shouldn't even bother looking for their stolen possessions.  This book is dumb.

Kishan asks Kelsey what they should do about the snake, and Kelsey says that the omphalos stone showed her that the snake won't hurt them if they have a legitimate reason to pass.  This robs any tension the scene could have, because we know going in that they're in absolutely no danger.  This further shows this series' fundamental misunderstanding of how to actually tell a story that has actual stakes and tension.

Kelsey runs her hand along the giant trunk and it moves.  A couple sections of the trunk shift in opposite directions, and a rustling noise comes from behind them.

I heard a deep, sibilant voice.

"Why isss ittt you are comminngg to my foressssttt?"

Oh God, why.

Yeah, it's a giant snake, and every single line of its dialogue is written like this.  It's incredibly annoying to read, and it doesn't even make sense.  It's a snake, and presumably it's hissing, right?  I want you to try to hiss the word "ittt" like a snake.  Some letter sounds are physically impossible of hissing, and "t" is one of them!

Kelsey asks if it's the guardian of the world tree, in case that wasn't obvious, and it says, "Yessssss.  Why are you presssssenttt?"

It's not even consistent in how it's written out!  Sometimes there are three "s"s in a row, and sometimes there's five or six.

Kelsey says that they're there for the airy prize.

"Why sssshould I let you passssssss?  Why do you neeeeddd the Divine Ssssscarffff?"

And I'm sorry for writing out so much of the snake's dialogue, but I'm so dumbfounded by it that I just feel like I have to share how inconsistent and bad it is.  Why is "need" drawn out as a hiss when none of the sounds in the word can be hissed?  Why are the "s"s multiplying the longer the snake talks?  No clue!

So yeah, the "airy prize" is a scarf.  Kelsey says that she needs it to help out Ren and Kishan to break their curse.  She also says that it will help the people of India, but this is super weak because at no point have we heard how getting the MacGuffins will help everyone in India, especially when Kelsey's been selfishly using the Golden Fruit to make, like, pancakes for herself.

"Who areee thesssseeee princccccccesss?"

And now the snake is somehow drawing out the silent letters at the ends of words.  Ouch, my head.

This isn't good enough for the snake, however, and I agree with it.  Instead of, like, attacking them or doing anything interesting, though, it just turns to leave.  Kelsey pulls out Fanindra, and the snake says that it's heard of Durga, and that Durga is the one that sent them here in the first place.  This actually works for some reason, although the narration does say that it looks like the two snakes speak telepathically with each other, or something.  And then we get one of the most painful paragraphs I've ever read in my life.  I am including a screen shot for you because manually typing out the snake's horrible dialect is really difficult.

Christmas.

If you're wondering about the note I left myself at the end of this paragraph, it says, "GOD this SUCKS to read."

The snake moves its coils around the trunk and reveals a secret passage in the wood.  As soon as they step inside, the snake seals them back in.

So that sure was a thing that happened.

Closing Thoughts

At least things happened this chapter?  There was no conflict or tension at any point, since either Kishan or Kelsey was at all times aware of what was going to happen and what they should do, so it wasn't, uh, exciting or anything.  The prose was noticeably worse this chapter.  I have absolutely no idea why the Silvanae are so happy that Kelsey and Kishan are there.  The bees were just there, and there's no explanation as to why it's bees other than that the omphalos stone looks like a beehive.

And, ugh.  The snake.  None of its dialogue is consistently rendered, and it reads like Houck just smashed on her keyboard instead of trying to figure out how a snake would actually talk.  And, like I've said before, I personally just can't stand dialect written out unless it's done really well, like the Mac Mac Feegle or Hagrid.  But Terry Pratchett and J.K. Rowling actually put, you know, effort into telling stories and adapting folklore into a coherent narrative, so.  Yeah.

But do you want to know the best part?  The snake doesn't even have the worst dialect in this book!

Alright, one last thing--what were the "bad things" that happened in this chapter???  Kelsey got stung by a couple bees, and was uncomfortable when Kishan confessed his love to her for the five hundredth time.  Overall, it was a massive success, since they found the world tree and started their climb up, which is a good thing?

Whatever.

Next time, Chapter Twenty: The Tests of the Four Houses!  Stuff actually happens!  Weird stuff, but stuff nonetheless!