[What Came Before]

There was a lot of great discussion, speculation, and even inside information from Mr. Bakker himself over at the old Three Seas forums. I just tried going back there to see if I could find any grist for discussion, but it seems that the spam-riddled threads have been entirely wiped. Does anyone have any particularly interesting threads saved (that we could perhaps "reboot" with our new perspective from the AE books)? Or should I try looking for threads over at Westeros? (I've never really been involved with those forums but I wasn't sure if anything from the old forums had been copied over to there)

[What Came Before]

Just going back through my westeros posts, I have a few.  Context is limited unfortunately. 
I also have a small text file with some on my home PC, I'll try and bring it to uni and post it next week for you.


Here's what I got from westeros before the server had a guru meditation error.  I'll try and recover more later (note to self -pg14)
Cujara Cinmoi said:

there's three basic options: Oblivion, Damnation, or Redemption. The idea is that without the interest of the various 'agencies' (as the Nonmen call them) inhabiting the Outside, one simply falls into oblivion - dies. Certain acts attract the interest of certain agencies. One can, and most Inrithi do, plead to redeemed ancestors to intercede on their behalf, but most give themselves over to some God. Doing so, however, puts their souls entirely into play, and the more sketchy one's life is, the more liable one is to be 'poached' by the demonic, and to live out eternity in everlasting torment.

Before the First Apocalypse the Dunyain were a heretical community of Kuniuric ascetics (originally based in Sauglish) who sought enlightenment (the Absolute) through the study and practice of reason (the Logos). They were a young movement, but they had already suffered sporadic persecution for some time. But since the Kunniat faith practiced by the High Norsirai was not hierarchical, no concerted effort was made to punish their atheism.

The idea for the Probability Trance as described comes (in part at least) from Daniel Dennet's Multiple Drafts Model of consciousness, where 'conscious experience' is the artifact of competition between multiple neuro-subprocessors. The Dunyain, the idea is, have developed the ability to direct and access those subprocessors - or 'Legion' as they call them - through the Probablity Trance.

[What Came Before]

So is the thousandfold thought some sort of extension of the multiple processors, and how did Moenghus transmit it to Kellhus?

[What Came Before]

Did he? I'm pretty sure Kellhus' trip through Earwa just put him in a circumstance wherein he grasped it. Although the Thousandfold Thought has always been a particularly confusing little portion of the book. I'm still not entirely sure what it is even as I understand it's plot significance. (or at least I think I do)

[What Came Before]

Well, I guess you could say since Moenghus set up Kellhus's path, that's how he communicated it.

[What Came Before]

Got a bit more from my westeros posts, sadly the search is limited back one year so unless I find more stuff on my home PC (there should be a little bit at least) this is it.

Sorcery

From the outset, I've looked at each of the sorcerous branches in linguistic terms, as practices where language commands, rather than conforms to, reality. So the Anagogis turns on the semantic power of figurative analogies, the Gnosis turns on the semantic power of formal generalizations, the Psukhe turns on speaker intention, and so on. And much as language undoes itself in paradoxes, sorcery can likewise undo itself. The Aporos is this 'sorcery of paradox,' where the meanings that make sorcery possible are turned in on themselves to generate what might be called 'contradiction fields.'

The sorcery of the Three Seas, Anagogic (and Daimotic) sorcery, arose from its shamanistic roots without the benefit of the Quya, the Nonmen sorcerer caste, whose sorcery was ancient before the Tusk was even written. The Gnosis, the sorcery of the Ancient North, is the result of what was called the Nonman Tutelage, a period in ancient Norsirai history marked by cultural exchanges between Nonmen and Men. The Gnosis is simply what the Anagogis could be, if the proper conceptual leaps were made...

Differences between sorcerers sharing the same Metaphysics is determined in much the same way differences in any profession are: native ability, knowledge, training, and experience.

Daimos

The Daimos is a subcategory of the Anagogis, and though the Gnostic Schools have flirted with summoning various 'Agencies' (to use the Nonman term for gods and demons), the Daimos is largely monopolized by the Scarlet Spires. It's a powerful weapon indeed. (Wait and see!)

Chorae

Personally, I've always worried that the Chorae may come across as too ad hoc, as mere narrative conveniences that allow a happy (but not very credible) balance between the sorcerous and the non-sorcerous. But in point of fact, that role came after - the Chorae developed independently. From the outset, I've looked at each of the sorcerous branches in linguistic terms, as practices where language commands, rather than conforms to, reality. So the Anagogis turns on the semantic power of figurative analogies, the Gnosis turns on the semantic power of formal generalizations, the Psukhe turns on speaker intention, and so on. And much as language undoes itself in paradoxes, sorcery can likewise undo itself. The Aporos is this 'sorcery of paradox,' where the meanings that make sorcery possible are turned in on themselves to generate what might be called 'contradiction fields.'

... the depth of the Mark is proportional to the amount of sorcery cast, and the severity of the Chorae is proportional the depth of the Mark.

[What Came Before]

Good to know I was sorta right about grammars. I still don't quite get the "leap" between Anagogis and Gnosis, at least where the Daimos is concerned.

(Admittedly, I'm not sure what is meant by "power of formal generalizations".

[What Came Before]

I might assume that Bakker is drawing an analogy between language and formal logic - say, predicate calculus - when contrasting the Anagogis and Gnosis. The Psukhe is something else, though intentionality could be manifested through language. Athjeari and I almost got down to some brass tacks linguistics discussion concerning sorcery just after Three-Seas fell apart completely but never got past the initial posts.

[What Came Before]

I always took sorcery to not just be expressions but methods of persuasion.

The Gnosis is akin to persuading someone with straight facts. It's linear, geometric, and serves a precise function.

The Anagogis is like using a metaphor. It's not as powerful as the straight facts, but it's more creative.

The Psukhe is convincing through nothing but passion. As a result it's blunt and basically just an onrushing torrent of water. You're just using the sheer force of your own belief to convince someone you're right.

Chorae are fact checkers, reminding the world that the Sorcerer's arguments are wrong by uncovering the paradoxes and fallacies inherent in sorcerous remaking of the world. The reason a Chorae doesn't work against the Wight of the Mountain is because there's nothing inherently wrong with the frame the Wight drags with it.

[What Came Before]

what the hell happened to the site?  it was threeseas.com right?

[What Came Before]

http://forum.three-seas.com

Domain name was resold, I believe.

[What Came Before]

http://wayback.archive.org/web/*/http://forum.three-seas.com

[What Came Before]

Wow. You're a champ, lockesnow. Thank you.

[What Came Before]

The wayback archive is somewhat less than comprehensive or easy to use.
And so, as promised, I have dug up an old collated text file consisting of various Bakker flotsam from the shores of the three seas.
Some of it may also be taken from interviews, I don't remember.
Ordered by topic.

   Chorae

Personally, I've always worried that the Chorae may come across as too ad hoc, as mere narrative conveniences that allow a happy (but not very credible) balance between the sorcerous and the non-sorcerous. But in point of fact, that role came after - the Chorae developed independently. From the outset, I've looked at each of the sorcerous branches in linguistic terms, as practices where language commands, rather than conforms to, reality. So the Anagogis turns on the semantic power of figurative analogies, the Gnosis turns on the semantic power of formal generalizations, the Psukhe turns on speaker intention, and so on. And much as language undoes itself in paradoxes, sorcery can likewise undo itself. The Aporos is this 'sorcery of paradox,' where the meanings that make sorcery possible are turned in on themselves to generate what might be called 'contradiction fields.'

Yes, the depth of the Mark is proportional to the amount of sorcery cast, and the severity of the Chorae is proportional the depth of the Mark.



   Sorcery


The sorcery of the Three Seas, Anagogic (and Daimotic) sorcery, arose from its shamanistic roots without the benefit of the Quya, the Nonmen sorcerer caste, whose sorcery was ancient before the Tusk was even written. The Gnosis, the sorcery of the Ancient North, is the result of what was called the Nonman Tutelage, a period in ancient Norsirai history marked by cultural exchanges between Nonmen and Men. The Gnosis is simply what the Anagogis could be, if the proper conceptual leaps were made...

Differences between sorcerers sharing the same Metaphysics is determined in much the same way differences in any profession are: native ability, knowledge, training, and experience.



   Daimos

The Daimos is a subcategory of the Anagogis, and though the Gnostic Schools have flirted with summoning various 'Agencies' (to use the Nonman term for gods and demons), the Daimos is largely monopolized by the Scarlet Spires. It's a powerful weapon indeed. (Wait and see!)


   Outside

there's three basic options: Oblivion, Damnation, or Redemption. The idea is that without the interest of the various 'agencies' (as the Nonmen call them) inhabiting the Outside, one simply falls into oblivion - dies. Certain acts attract the interest of certain agencies. One can, and most Inrithi do, plead to redeemed ancestors to intercede on their behalf, but most give themselves over to some God. Doing so, however, puts their souls entirely into play, and the more sketchy one's life is, the more liable one is to be 'poached' by the demonic, and to live out eternity in everlasting torment.


   Characters

More generally, I've been thinking about Martin with regards to this question as well. The difference between his characters and mine, I think, is that he tries to make his characters - even the brutes like Sandor - likeable. Mine all end up being these crazy inversions, where I give the form of a favourite fantastic archetype - like Cnaiur - and I fill it with very flawed and distorted contents. I want my characters to be out and out troubling, whereas - and I in no mean this as a criticism - Martin wants his characters to be 'gritty.' I think it's just a function of our differing goals. Mine are either far deeper or far more pretentious!

But Martin does have a clear moral centre with the Starks, and I think this has an overall impact on the way people identify with his characters. The only difference between his work and the rest of the mainstream in this respect is that he's actually willing to use this identification to wring his readers' hearts. It's a much different kind of 'reading buzz' he's aiming for with his works than I'm aiming for in mine - and I think much more accessible. I don't so much want to strain my readers' moral muscles as to interrogate them.

Does that sound like a good/fair characterization? Too flattering, maybe? It's always a temptation to try to reason away what might just be a flaw in your work...


I self consciously picked three mysogynistic types for my female characters (just as I picked fantasy cliche types for my male characters): the whore, the waif, and the harridan. Earwa is a brutally patriarchal world, much as our own was (which makes our own fascination with fantastic versions of our past that much more peculiar), and I wanted to explore the significance of those types in such a world. Serwe is obviously the waif, the frail innocent wronged by the machinations of a cruel world. As such she had to die.

But it was the innocence part, that struck me as the most significant and the most redemptive. Without giving too much away, there is a manner in which Serwe is the most important character in the book.

Most people shake their head when I say that... Hell, even I shake my head.


Kellhus is an inversion of 'the Young Man who would be King.' My UK editor calls him the 'Anti-Frodo.' He is of course, far more than that besides.

Cnaiur is the All-conquering Barbarian (who cannot conquer himself).

Achamian is the Wise Sorcerer (who continually fools himself).


   Dunyain

Kellhus is actually a prodigy among even the Dunyain, though any one of them would have us raking their yard and taking out their trash (and loving them for it) inside of five sentences.


Before the First Apocalypse the Dunyain were a heretical community of Kuniuric ascetics (originally based in Sauglish) who sought enlightenment (the Absolute) through the study and practice of reason (the Logos). They were a young movement, but they had already suffered sporadic persecution for some time. But since the Kunniat faith practiced by the High Norsirai was not hierarchical, no concerted effort was made to punish their atheism.


As for the why the Dunyain would spend so much time with faces when they're utterly isolated (and they are - almost), the issue is indirectly broached in TWP - chapter sixteen, I think. Otherwise, I would point to Kellhus's surprise in the Prologue, when he meets Leweth for the first time. The idea is that the Dunyain have developed this skill for training purposes (to root out passion, one must be able to detect it). The fact that it translates into the ability to dominate of world-born men is simply a happy coincidence (or as you say, Jack, a byproduct).

On the other side there is the strange feedback that occurs between emotion and displays of emotion - as evinced by those 'laughing classes' that seem to be sweeping the world. The idea here is that by mastering the display of the emotion (which is under your self-conscious control), you gain some measure of control over the emotion itself. The Dunyain are fond of control.

The form of the Kellhus flashback scenes ultimately comes from my days smoking fatties and watching Kung Fu with my grandmother, back when I was fourteen... How I loved that show.


   Probability Trance

The idea for the Probability Trance as described comes (in part at least) from Daniel Dennet's Multiple Drafts Model of consciousness, where 'conscious experience' is the artifact of competition between multiple neuro-subprocessors. The Dunyain, the idea is, have developed the ability to direct and access those subprocessors - or 'Legion' as they call them - through the Probablity Trance.

[mrganondorf]

The idea for the Probability Trance as described comes (in part at least) from Daniel Dennet's Multiple Drafts Model of consciousness, where 'conscious experience' is the artifact of competition between multiple neuro-subprocessors. The Dunyain, the idea is, have developed the ability to direct and access those subprocessors - or 'Legion' as they call them - through the Probablity Trance.

Thank you Curethan!  I have been hoping for some insight in 'legion' for ages!

@ Swense - love the idea that sorcery is persuasion--persuasion that the world should be other than the way god made it?