Highlights from ‘The Great Hunt’

I’m currently enjoying a reading binge, getting through all of The Wheel of Time Series for the first time. Several times I have read the earlier volumes, but I never completed the story.

I thoroughly analysed the first few chapters of book 1, so I’m jumping straight to book 2 to show you my highlights and associated thoughts. It seems I didn’t highlight much, I must have been too caught up in the story. I’ll bold the highlight, but in some cases I’ve taken surrounding text to add context.

He balanced the sword in front of him on scabbard point; it looked no different than it had before he knew. “Aes Sedai work.” But Tam gave it to me. My father gave it to me. He refused to think of how a Two Rivers shepherd had come by a heron-mark blade. There were dangerous currents in such thoughts, deeps he did not want to explore.

I liked this sentence because I can relate to it, as most could. We all have thoughts which drag us beyond the realms of safe thought. We know there are creepy-crawlies under the rock… and so we choose not to confirm our suspicions.

No two wore the same kind of armor or carried the same sort of sword, and none looked like Lan, but Rand did not doubt they were Warders. Round faces, square faces, long faces, narrow faces, they all had the look, as if they saw things other men did not see, heard things other men did not hear. Standing at their ease, they looked as deadly as a pack of wolves.

A brilliant description of dangerous men. Those who could anticipate and see threat and foe before others. The reference to wolves is an oft quote, but apt. No one I know would willingly pat a wolf.

“I am not staying here,” Mat told the rafters, “with a bigmouthed Ogier and a fool whose head is too big for a hat. You coming, Perrin?” Perrin sighed, and glanced at Rand, then nodded. Rand watched them go with a stick caught in his throat.

Two good expressions which are similar to “big head” and “lump in the throat”, but twisted slightly to be a broad step away from cliche.

“My mother,” she said firmly, “always told me the best way to learn to deal with a man was to learn to ride a mule. She said they have about equal brains most of the time. Sometimes the mule is smarter.”

This is just clever.

“… There is one rule, above all others, for being a man. Whatever comes, face it on your feet. …”

A man must seek duty, not glory.

These resonate with my manhood. Yes, it is a bit of literary license. At times life will kick us off our feet, but a man gets back up as quick as possible, sometimes with the help of another.

“I said listen, sheepherder,” the Warder growled. “There will come a time when you must achieve a goal at all costs. It may come in attack or in defense. And the only way will be to allow the sword to be sheathed in your own body.”

A prophetic comment for the story narrative.

“Man and woman, hard. I’ve fought them, and I know. They will run fifty miles, and fight a battle at the end of it. They’re death walking, with any weapon or none. Except a sword. They will not touch a sword, for some reason. Or ride a horse, not that they need to. If you have a sword, and the Aielman has his bare hands, it is an even fight. If you’re good. …

Some great world-building. Reading this makes me want to meet an Aielman or woman. On friendly-terms of course.

Women often seemed to leave things unsaid, and in his limited experience it was what they did not say that proved the most trouble.

No comment, on the grounds it might incriminate me.

People see what they expect to see. Beyond that, look them in the eye and speak firmly. …”

So true.

Someday, I am sure, you will serve a cause, and you will learn then that to serve it you must work even with those whom you dislike. I tell you I have worked with many with whom I would not share a room if it were left to me alone.

Oh, again. I’ve worked with some people like that, and I’m sure you have too. (And some of those I worked with probably thought the same of me). I’ve also sat next to some on a plane, and next to some in a shopping queue. Trolls might be only on the Internet, but strange ones walk the streets with you and I.

Feeling worse than useless, she picked up her skirts and ran, and Egwene’s screams pursued her.

This is my final highlight for the book, and it’s a goody. I like the imagery of fleeing and being pursued by the screams of a loved one. Chilling, but good imagery.

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