Because I wanted to explore the series' end, or rather; what I hope to be its end, I'll need to go in-depth on the book's major plot developments.
That means massive spoilers, people.
Or at least I think they might be spoilers; this is mostly speculation and interpretation and I might still be way off. But I don't believe that I am.
I'll first try to convince you to go and read the books yourself.
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| Everything but the Unholy Consult |
Anyway, before I jump into it I should maybe say that if you haven't read anything about this series and you like challenging Epic Fantasy fiction, this might be something you want to take a look at.
Scott Bakker's the Prince of Nothing trilogy and the following Aspect-Emperor quartet (it was supposed to be a trilogy too, but you know how things go) together form parts 1 and 2 of the Second Apocalypse series. It's not tacked on either. The whole thing was supposed to be three books, but every book has since escalated into its own cycle.
And this is because the story needed that room. It simply has to be so, there is no redundancy here.
The books themselves aren't even that long either.
The Prince of Nothing trilogy is set in a world of religion and war. There are various forms of deliciously complicated, but structured, magic systems and an eclectic assortment of gods.
Also, for once, humanity is not the worst thing under the sun; they are outstripped by vile monsters that prey on them in all the worst ways; the Inchoroi.
There is also a once upon a time great and mortal race that has since, at a terrible and unforeseen price, left its mortal tethers behind; The Non-Men, who now live on at the world's fringes, possessing power and madness in equal measure.
Written by a philosophy teacher, the series has got the deep philosophizing in spades and this is reflected in the characters, who are exceedingly well realized, though they might not necessarily be likable.
If you don't mind drowning in a tide of human filth and darkness, go check it out yourself.
Despite of that darkness, to me, the world of the Three Seas felt like coming home.
Like those times when I was reading the Bible.
I've seen the term applied willy-nilly to books before and when read afterward they have always disappointed me, but Scott Bakker's Second Apocalypse is truly 'Biblical' in scope.
Old Testament Biblical.
Like in the Bible, Bakker's world is filled with prophets, holy men and holy wars, a higher calling, faith and strife, divine purpose and divine reward and the like.
A culture near an inland sea, old sandy desserts and old sandy cities and an entire people marching from them to get to their promised destination, raping, killing and burning their way across unfamiliar lands because their gods tell them that it is right of them to do so, justified, and how the power of belief makes this possible and, of course, it talks about the darkness from where all of these things originate.
A book of Iron men and their Saints.
It's geared and designed to strike a chord with the subconscious upbringing of people raised within a Christian society, whether they believe or not. This goes so far as to include the same reverential tones even during the most dire subject matter and the manner of description, up to and including the same type of philosophical and biblical ambiguity in its various expressions.
I'm not sure how these books would connect with people not raised with Christianity but I'm guessing that there might be some difficulties in identifying with them in those cases.
It bears repeating here that the books are extremely dark. This is mostly because there is little or no way to get away from the darkness, apart from the phenomenal world-building of course, the layers of the world bubbling up behind every sentence and every conjured up vista.
The acts are horrible and violent and the characters aren't likable because the introspection present in the first Prince of Nothing trilogy is all-encompassing. It is in fact an overpowering level of introspection stripping characters bare to the dirty core of their selfish humanity. These are the most realistic characters that I've ever read, with nothing of them hidden. And at times it can be like looking into a too honest mirror, with all those things you might not want to look at or think about laid bare. They add a realism to the series that is hard to find anywhere else.
Sure there are supernatural elements, but they're mostly all evil.
And in real life there always seems to be more evidence of evil and sin anyway. That's why in fiction demons and bad beasties are generally more credible than angels or even a benevolent god. The horrors are easier to accept than any form of benign supernatural influence.
And the bad beasties here; the Inchoroi, are the most evil antagonists ever created. They can be brutally and horrifyingly over the top, but I believe there's a reason for this and I'll mention it after the jump somewhere.
The series is truly pitch dark and I can't stress enough that I am always shocked, time and again, whenever I read it.
But if you can take them, they're worth it.
Now on to that thing I was talking about.
How that it's linked to my faith and what I'm getting out of it.
Definite SPOILERS for the Prince of Nothing and the entire Second Apocalypse up next.
Faith in Bakker's Prince of Nothing trilogy is particularily important. It's the driving force behind most of the characters' actions and is also used as a tool for manipulation. Mirroring my privately held belief that all the Bible is, is manipulation, a tool created in the past to literally force people into roads of others' making. As The Prince of Nothing states " a tool to let men enslave one another".
The first time I read the trilogy I read it as a blatant metaphor for Christianity or even any other form of organized religion. I either missed reading the 2 crucial pages or I dismissed the conversation present in those 2 pages as another of Kellhus' manipulations.
What most likely happened is that, at the time, as I did not know there were more than 3 books in the series I took the trilogy as a complete story with a finite and finished universe. So everything that Kellhus did would just serve to only further his own ends regardless of and most likely in contradiction to the truth, because with the dwindling page count at that part of the third book, and with Bakker's amazing attention and dedication to his world building, there simply wasn't enough room for a complicated system of gods and the afterlife to enter at that stage. Everything said up until that point had been crucially self-contained. Being privy, from within, to the ruthless pragmatism of Kellhus, such a complicated lie, completely out of the blue, from him at that point without any actual evidence to back it up, other than his word, would have seemed entirely dismiss-able. So at this point I indeed dismissed it because the tale had become a storied metaphor, by example and deed pounded again and again into a weaponized attack on religion and any other form of organized manipulation.
The second time I read the trilogy, after having read the Atrocity Tales and the bone-chilling revelations in The False Sun, with an eye towards continuing on into the second (at the time I thought, only a) trilogy, knowing that it had a large element of the supernatural i.e. Gods, I could read these pages as a sudden alteration to the laws of Bakker's universe rather than as a manipulative fountain of fake knowledge. A drawing back of the curtain rather than yet another misdirection.
At the time I stopped and stared in shock. Had I ever read these pages? Here is Kellhus explaining how the world of Gods works and how it interacts with our realm (within the fictional setting of Earwa).
It was a revelation but I wonder if my appreciation at the time didn't diminish.
Now, not having read the Great Ordeal and right before the release of the Unholy Consult (Though it's out already in some places, and my copy is making its way towards me right now), it still could be false information, given by Kellhus in the Thousandfold Thought as just another form of manipulation, and by the Inchoroi to seed doubt into the order of the Mandate in The False Sun, with these two moments feeding into one another and stoking on my ideas, but with the introduction of seemingly active Gods in the second cycle, it doesn't seem very likely.
It also would explain why the Inchoroi are so disgustingly vile. It's because Bakker needed an antagonistic force that was completely and irredeemably damned, on every level; moral, natural, cosmological even. The Inchoroi cross every line because Bakker needs them to cross every line. They must be irreparably damned. And with Bakker's penchant for creating completely understandable characters, this would have been a hard or even impossible thing to do.
The concept of damnation lies at the very heart of this matter.
Anyway, because of this reading experience I have two main conflicting ways of viewing this series (, and I'm purely talking about the religious aspects here);
Firstly as a metaphor for religion in our world and it being a tool for manipulation or even genuine emotional catharsis, as a a goal and a purpose. (This, for now, can only be applied to the prince of Nothing Trilogy.)
And here it comes; spoilers.
Or secondly, to appreciate the series as escapism and an escape to a fictional reality that tolerates, or indeed promotes, an end to the biased jurisdiction and judgment of a god or gods.
Albeit of course a fictional reality that also shines a spotlight on the darkest and vilest aspects of man, coupled with a dangerous level of mind-altering philosophy.
Even with these two conflicting views, I can still appreciate both. Each has its own merit. But both are really, working against religious hypocrisy.
Sometime after I finished the White-Luck Warrior and the Atrocity Tales and still at least a year before the Great Ordeal, after the introduction of the concepts of the judging eye and divine damnation fingers started to point unequivocally in a certain direction.
And I had an epiphany about the future plot.
Kellhus, Judgment and the wish for Oblivion
I knew.
I figured it out.
I knew what Kellhus was doing:
He is not the announcer of the apocalypse. He is, in fact, its willing instrument. He might even be the sole person capable of setting it in motion.
So to see if I had it right, I looked around a little and eventually found a comment on Bakker's own blog/site that seemed to back my reasoning. just a few words, but crucial ones.
"Damnation is the key."
Anyway, adding up the given information and sprinkling it with a heavy dose of intuition, and after following everything to its logical conclusion, I found myself looking at Kellhus' actions and I found that I then had the option to judge him. And I did so via a question, a hypothetical question, applicable to my own world view.
Save 144000 souls and send them to a perfect heaven and forever burn all the billions of others in a pool of everlasting fire, or, send each and every one of these two groups into oblivion?
It might seem as if I use the number arbitrarily above but it's relevant to both The Second Apocalypse and the Bible.
Little disclaimer: while I'm aware of the book of Revelations having several ways of interpreting it. Because I was raised this way, I have always looked at the whole of Revelations as a prophecy of coming events. Not as Preterism, which is an interpretation that claims that these events have already happened in the time between the writing down of the prophecy and the now.
In the book of Revelations 144000 souls is the number of souls of the 12 tribes of Israel, with 12000 to each tribe, that will be taken into heaven directly on Jesus' return; the second coming. This section is focused on the Jewish tribes and does not actually comment on believers as a whole but either way; if you look at the millions of Jews living today and if you compare that number to the whole, then a very startling difference of millions and millions of people presents itself.
You can cry and scream; 'Metaphor! Don't take it that Literally!' But really, everything in Revelations could be interpreted as a metaphor. It's the last defensive bulwark of prophecy apologists. It doesn't matter here.
This means practically, that given the earth's Jewish population currently exceeds 10 million, the vast majority of these people living today, will not be taken up unto heaven when Jesus returns, because they are not living according to divine law.
Alright, alright... even if it is a metaphor, the general idea I guess would still be the same: the vast majority gets left behind. It wouldn't really make much of a difference either way. The whole point of this section of the Bible is to demonstrate that you are in fact special. You will be chosen because of your beliefs, exalted and saved and taken into a perfect paradise, and others will not be.
It is favouritism, elitism. completely disregarding personal merit, level of faith, productivity, personality, identity, charitableness, everything done on the road of your life, everything done to you and everything you've suffered and who knows what else, in favour of this one thing: your surrender into a very specific belief.
In the Second Apocalypse there is a somewhat similar system, but it is kind of inverted.
The Inchoroi in the short story 'The False Sun' claim that Earwa is a world that can be shut out from the governance of the gods by reducing that world's population below a set number of souls. Believed to be 144000. Thereby avoiding the punishment that comes with divine damnation.
This whole thing is a reaction. To the Bible.
And that makes me a very, very happy boy.
Anyway.
At first glance it seems like these two systems might be the same. It's odd.
But while the inchoroi murder all the rest of the world's population to actively bring this about, meanwhile presumably casting the murdered population's souls into the void, right into the governance of the 100 gods,
The Bible picks out the 144000 to save them from the apocalypse that is to follow. They don't have to die and they receive life everlasting on the spot. The people who get left behind are the ones that will be suppressed, who will suffer and die, and you know, they don't immediately die, they can still be saved (their souls can, at least) by choosing for Jesus (ugh, carrot and stick).
It seems like the Second Apocalypse definitely has the worst of the two systems but then we haven't looked at the actual outcome.
What about the already dead?
We know what the Bible Says, and it's that they will be judged by God. And looking at humanity this day and age, a lot of us people not yet dead, will be cast into the fire. The dead of past ages will be judged accordingly as well and my guess is, the vast majority of those are still pretty fucked.
What happens to the souls of all the people who have been dying over the course of Earwa's lifetime? I'm not actually sure. I'm assuming that they will have been devoured by the 100 gods and stopped existing in any and all sense or, failing that, they have been suffering divine judgment for quite a while now in hellish environments. I am not sure what the benign reward for believers is, or if there even is one.
And honestly the fate of the dead doesn't matter, I just wanted to take a slight detour here because it's interesting to me. It doesn't actually matter to the idea and the speculation at hand. This is not about the dead. this is about the alive Kellhus.
It's Kellhus who matters, because it is he who governs the plot. The puppetmaster playing with a million strings.
So, my idea was that Kellhus, most likely very divinely damned at this point... Though I have not seen the judging eye cast upon him yet, but how could he not be: Actively, wilfully manipulating an entire world, religion and peoples in order to proclaim himself as a living god, and upturn the very fabric of society to his own ends and who is probably working directly against the gods, he is an ultimately selfish immoral being. (this is spoken from a religiously devout point of view, which I don't really ascribe to anymore so I guess what I'm really saying is that by conventional human morality, Kellhus is an utter shit).
Anyway, again, Kellhus must have come upon knowledge at one point in the 20 years between the end of the Prince of Nothing trilogy and the start of the Aspect Emperor cycle that he is divinely damned and that there is a punishment attached to that.
Now, what does this creature of ultimate self-serving purpose do? He finds a way to circumvent it.
He would have found his answer swiftly in the wild screechings of the Inchoroi. And quite quickly would have found their ultimate goal, barring better alternatives, in perfect alignment with his own views. As member of the divinely damned he would find oblivion an interesting alternative to endless hellish torments.
(also, as an aside, to the people who've read the books up until now; Kellhus as Dunyain is a being who seeks to become an ultimately self-moving soul. This would be achievable by going into nothingness. In nothingness, being nothingness, nothing can influence, so nothing can happen. And there is only one way to achieve that. To enter the nothingness after death. But only if the gods' dominion has ended. You see, at this point, Kellhus' plans might not even have anything to do with damnation at all, but only with the Dunyain's quest to become self-moving souls. Which is a bat-shit insane concept to think about, but the more you do, the more it seems possible.)
Looking at what is said, the Inchoroi's plans seems to imply that once the diminishing of the world's souls is done, the dominion of the Gods is over and when death comes to the vessel that houses the soul, the soul will be instantly cast into oblivion.
It's unclear if when the number of Earwa's population inevitably rises again the Gods will be able to hold sway over the world again or not.
As another detour: In the event of the Inchoroi's and/or Kellhus' success, what would happen to the already dead?
Maybe, like two metaphorical films of paper unsticking from one another, the hundred gods will cleave away from their damned playthings and will stop having judgment over them and the souls in their turn will end, dissolving in the void, into oblivion.
So. To lay it out clearly:
Salvation and exaltation for a chosen minority which, Kellhus would definitely not be a part of, and everlasting pain for mankind's extreme majority.
Or give everyone the same ultimate end; nothingness. Everlasting nothing, the end to the self of the past, future and present. No hope of continuation in any way shape or form. The end.
No pain, no pleasure, no hate, no love, sadness or joy, no shame or pride, no self and no company.
Not anything, just nothing.
Judgement
Stated this baldly it becomes easy.
At this point, as a damned creature myself, one who doesn't ascribe to any faith (most of the time, remember; the things we were raised with as children never truly leave us), I would align myself with Kellhus. I would choose oblivion too. Not only for myself, but for everyone. Better for all to be ended, with peace of a sort than for the massive majority to be in pain for ever, to the benefit of the arbitrarily chosen few.
(and here is where those detours come in; since everyone will inevitably be dead it would be better for everyone to be ultimately surrendered into oblivion. But there's no actual arguments for this. All the information so far has been given by souls or 'Voices' still afraid to die. So while I have the start of the reasoning I can't actually give a follow-up for this specific line of reasoning.)
So then, Judgment.
As colonel Kurtz says in Apocalypse Now, "It is Judgment that defeats us."
Judgment is the worst thing imaginable. How dare you judge me, you fallible creature, you fallible monster, you God. Creating does not give you the rights. it is we who should judge you for this flawed creation.
I asked once of someone close to me; why is it right that God should be able to judge us? And that person answered, because he made us.
As someone who finds 'living not okay' that type of reasoning is absurd. I will not thank anyone for the horrid shambles that is my flawed creation. And looking forward into the future, to its inevitable end and what lies beyond, with my upbringing I can not help but wish that what comes after is NOT as my upbringing tells me it will be. Judgment now would be appalling. But as we have no choice in this matter, and there will always be doubt about these things. I can only find a satisfying escape in fiction.
So, with the inclusion of the concept and tool of the Judging Eye, which points to a divine damnation and the existence of gods in the world of Earwa, with the character and concept of the White-Luck warrior, which gave us the proof of divine judgment and active agency of the Gods;
The Unholy Consult and Great Ordeal will give us the reason why these things were introduced. The grand plan will finally be revealed. And it's my hope that kellhus is working towards what I think he is.
Because you see, like God, I too love a happy ending.
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