Brisingr Spork: Chapter 32: A Matter of Perspective
For this chapter I was planning to give a quick rundown on what actually happens plotwise during Saphira's very first POV chapter in the series. This was for my own benefit, mostly! as otherwise I would probably be wrapped far too much up in ranting nonstop about just how awkward the prose is and forget to mention plot entirely.
Luckily, however, the Inheritance Wikia sums it up quite nicely:
Saphira enjoys some time to fly and hunt deer along the Jiet River, but would rather have done it with Eragon. Roran returns, though Martland Redbeard lost a hand in the fighting.
And that's it, guys. That's all that happens but somehow it takes 3392 words to get there; couched in so many strange-clunky-boring-word-associations and Saphira mentally preening about how fabulous she is the entire time.
Clunky? Hoo boy, yes.
The wind-of-morning-heat-above-flat-land, which was different from the wind-of-morning-heat-above-hills, shifted.
Er-hem. Might I suggest...
The wind shifted.
Eh? Eh?? Or izzat getting a little too soon to the point verb, there?
Saphira is flying thousands of feet in the air, stroking her ego all the while. The main problems I have in this egocentric blah-blah is that Saphira muses that a dragon (with Thorn and Shruikan in mind) who 'was not free to do as he or she wished [is] not a dragon at all' - when Saphira is at this very moment not free to do as she wishes, what with being bored out of her wits waiting for Eragon to return and keeping the farce of 'Eragon is still here with the Varden troops' in their enemy's eyes believable.
I also don't know how a dragon wriggling its entire body with pleasure whilst it's in flight so high up would work, really; as she's in the midst of keeping her body streamlined enough so she can stay in the air.
The heat of the sun made her feel as if she were lying in a nest of coals.
But the sun is above her and a nest of coals would be warming from the bottom. In any case, Saphira realises even though she's pretty happy-as-Larry right now physically, she's really starting to worry about and miss Eragon. This angst makes her snap at a sparrow close by in the air.
A sparrow that isn't flocking and for some reason is flying as high as she is right now. Correct me if I'm wrong, but although sparrows can fly that high, they have pretty much no reason to - and thus don't, really?
And she could hear the high-pitched squeaks of frightened animals warning their brethren of her presence. Their wavering cries gratified her; it was only right that her food should fear her. If ever she should fear it, she would know it was her time to die.
What does that last bit even mean? I mean I get it, but... it's a little dramatic...
The Varden have meanwhile forded the Jiet river on their way... somewhere. Yes, I admittedly have no idea. Either forgot or wasn't interested enough to pay attention in the first place. Not a great sign...
Flying was so easy, it never ceased to puzzle her why any creature would remain earthbound. Even Eragon retained his attachment to the soft-hard-ground, when she knew he could join her in the sky at any time merely by uttering a few words in the ancient language.
There we have it. Saphira herself admitting she is completely useless to the story now. Not even relegated to horse-with-wings any longer. Eragon has little to no need for a dragon, now he's done the Aegati Blodhren and can shape reality into forms more pleasing to him whenever he damn well pleases.
Saphira spots Roran's band of men and horses returning, and mentally alerts Arya. She's no sooner put the phone down when Blodhgarm calls, worried that their deception will be noticed if she spends any more time up there. She descends to a thousand feet. That's three times now the word 'thousand' has appeared in the chapter. We get it. She's high up. Shame you lost a bit of that impact when the random sparrow turned up, though.
Saphira lands, dozes outside Eragon's tent, then wakens at near-sunset at the arrival of Roran's band. Blodgharm spells a fake-Eragon (oh no, I'm doing it too, now!) that climbs on Saphira's back. She makes her way to Nasuada's tent and sticks her head in. Martland Redbeard, Roran and another human join them. They fill Nas and Saph in on the Laughing Dead fiasco. Once done, Nas dismisses them apart from Roran; and Paolini forgets the chapter is meant to be through Saphira's eyes. She has no actual thoughts about their somewhat tense conversation, makes note of stuff she wouldn't care about, and simply calls them by first name.
Roran gripped the head of the hammer stuck through his belt, veins and tendons standing out on his hand, but his tone remained polite. “Of course, Lady Nasuada.”
Yeah, that's definitely the same style we've been treated with the entire time. Why do I care less about this entire exchange than Saphira - who loathes dithering? The only reason this dialogue is in here is for the reader. Nas captain-blocks Roran and gets some more info on the Laughing Dead. Once he's gone, Saph asks about Eragon, but Nas hasn't heard anything.
“If he has not contacted us by the day after tomorrow, I will have Arya send a message to one of Orik’s spellcasters demanding a report from him. If Eragon is unable to hasten the end of the dwarves’ clanmeet, then I fear we will no longer be able to count on the dwarves as allies during the battles to come. The only good of such a disastrous outcome would be that Eragon could return to us without further delay.”
Once back at Eragon's tent, Saphira [resigns] herself to waiting out the remainder of the day in unrelieved monotony. What's that again about a dragon not free to do as [...] she wished [...] not [being] a dragon at all?
In her boredom, she mentally contacts Roran and ends up cockblocking the guy; who is busy catching up with Katrina. This is just about as awkward as every time Paolini writes anything with a sexual bent. Saphira quickly realises what's going on - to her amusement! - but keeps nattering at him anyway. Wonder how she'd have reacted if Arya and Eragon hadn't had been so polite when she got with Firnen and decided to poke their mental noses in on them and start chatting whilst they were going at it?
She falls asleep and dreams in purple prose:
She flapped and she flapped until she rose above the unreachable peaks of the Beor Mountains. There she circled for a time, gazing down at the whole of Alagaësia laid out before her. Then an uncontrollable desire entered her to climb even higher and see what she might, and so she began flapping again, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, she soared past the glaring moon, until only she and the silver stars hung in the black sky. She drifted among the heavens for an indeterminate period, queen of the bright, jewel-like world below, but then disquiet entered her soul, and she cried out with her thoughts: Eragon, where are you!
Hoo boy. What a chapter of nothing.
Further Thoughts:
I can't exactly put my finger on why but the entirety of the description on how she flies, moves and thinks doesn't ring true to a creature her size and form, doesn't feel like it was easy to write - and doesn't sound like she's narrating in the first place. In fact, it sounds like Paolini is way too present here in the prose; probably because he's trying so hard to point both fingers: "Look! Saphira's a DRAGON! See? See? She's thinking and doing DRAGON THINGS!" up until he just gives up halfway through. The endless trying is only causing to make this entire chapter a big ol' mess of inconsequential, silly surface detail but neglecting to really delve deeper into 'how would an Alagaesian dragon think?' (besides: "I'm the most beautiful creature in all the land!") and 'how would they do the things they do, and why would they feel motivated to do them?'.
Let's not even get started on the 'things-that-look-like-this' because it's the silliest way to make this character somehow different to humanoid characters. When ever has Saphira (or any dragon) talked like that to anybody besides themselves in their POV chapters? Does anyone else smell a retcon? This also does not fit her told character trait of wanting to get to the point; all that endless dithering about sharp-pointy-trees and not-good-to-drink-water when she's complaining later about how nobody but the late Brom ever talks straight. There's no rhyme or reason to this model, either - she's perfectly capable and happy to call people by their first and last names one time, then a sentence later add on all this extraneous red-long-beard-man tripe. So what is it? Round-ears or man?
For those after a more comprehensive list of dashed-dragon-words (with snarky comments aplenty), it's here at my old Wikispaces writing archive until the thirty days free runs out.
Inheritance Dragon Vocabulary