Anonymous asked:

With the Asmodean issue, I don't think RJ was ever going with redemption for him. He's a fairly contemptible person, even if you can empathize with his struggles and fears during his captivity under Rand. We have Ingtar & Verin for the redemption stories. We even get in Asmodean's head to see he is uninterested in redemption. He even considers whether or not his balefire non-death constitutes a second chance... and rejects the idea. The god of evil is still his "Great Lord".

i-am-sassy-rogue:

neuxue:

I don’t think RJ was going with redemption either, otherwise he’d have done it - he’s the author, after all. My frustration with Asmodean’s death is more that it feels like (and this is 100% speculation on my part, obviously) it was a kind of… a way to avoid having to address that question within the narrative. And sure, that’s his prerogative as the author, but as a reader I wish we could have explored that more.

Yes, we have Ingtar and Verin, but again I personally wish we had more than just that (also I’d argue that Verin’s isn’t a redemption, per se, so much as a recognition / realisation / reveal of a type that often gets grouped in with the umbrella category of ‘redemption arcs’ in a way that… is probably the topic of another essay entirely) And we do get to see a fair bit of exploration of grey areas from the ‘how far is too far’ angle with many of the main cast, including Rand. But for a story that explicitly contains the statement “No man can walk so long in the Shadow that he cannot come again to the light,” it doesn’t actually spend that much time or focus on that side of it.  

But mainly I want to talk a bit about the rest of this ask - namely, the idea of Asmodean being a ‘contemptible person’ and ‘uninterested in redemption’.

Firstly, in order for an arc to be a redemption, the character by definition has to have done some contemptible things. Otherwise it’s not redemption, it’s some other form of growth or realisation or acceptance. And yeah, that means redemption arcs aren’t going to be for everyone, whether in general or specific, because we all draw our lines in different places and/or enjoy different things. Which is fine! But I always find it a bit… baffling, honestly, when this concept of ‘does this character deserve redemption’ comes up, because taken to its conclusion it feels like a bit of a paradox: that if a character needs redemption they don’t deserve it, and if a character deserves redemption they don’t need it. Like, for me so much of the appeal of redemption arcs is the very fact of that starting point deep in villiany or contemptibility or a bloodstained past. It’s the why and how of a character dragging themselves along a path from that starting point.

Which brings me to the ‘uninterested in redemption’ aspect of it, because this is another one I’ve seen tossed around regarding various characters and fandoms: this idea that if a character ‘rejects’ or isn’t immediately interested in the whole concept of redemption when it’s first (explicitly or implicitly) ‘offered’, then they don’t deserve / want / get to have redemption at all. But that’s… not how redemption works; it’s not how growth works. 

To put it in a different context: have you ever just felt really, really sad or angry, and rejected some form of comfort (maybe pushed away a friend or family member, or knew that you’d feel better if you went for a walk but didn’t, etc) because in that moment, on some level, you didn’t want to feel better? I think of the rejection-of-redemption as a bit like that. 

Sometimes, when you’re so far down a particular path, it’s easier to turn away from the faint glimmer of a distant light, or a hand held out, than it is to take that first step. To say yes, I need to change, or yes, I want to change (or please, help me). 

And for a lot of characters that means having to accept that maybe a lot of the things they’ve done were in some way wrong, or purposeless; means looking in the mirror and seeing monstrosity reflected back, and having to figure out how to cope with that… and so it’s easier, much of the time, to turn away from that out of self-preservation. To say I’ve already done this much, so there’s no point stopping now. To say I’m already damned, what’s a little more. 

So in that regard… of course Asmodean, noted fatalist, answers his own question of is this a second chance with no. Because in so many ways that’s easier. In so many ways it hurts less. It’s comfortable, in the way sadness is comfortable when you’re already sad. It means he doesn’t have to face the possibility of letting himself try, only to fail. Because he’s already embraced that fatalism, that inevitable fall, and it’s easier to just let gravity take hold than to risk hoping, because there’s no guarantee in hope.

But again, part of the appeal of redemption arcs, at least for me, is that they are hard work. That they involve facing hard truths, and looking past denial and fear, and finding the courage to decide to be better and do better, and the courage to keep making that decision, even when it’s hard, even if they don’t know whether it will ever be ‘enough’, or whether they’ll succeed. 

And so the initial ‘rejection’ of redemption is often a part of that story–that, or the stumbles and backsliding along the way–because for a character who has turned away from it at various points, some of the satisfaction in watching comes in that moment when they don’t. When they finally take the hand that’s been held out, or decide at last to turn around. It’s not necessarily a nice, clean, linear path… and that’s so much of what I love about it.

@neuxue​ This is one of most beautifully written essays about redemption I have ever read.