The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever was my first experience with an anti-hero in literature.  I read Lord Foul’s Bane at fourteen years old, and I imagine if my parents had known of the contents of the book, they would have withheld it from me.  The novel is not for the faint of heart, and not for everyone.  However, for those who appreciate a real exploration into the heart and mind of an average man and are willing to confront, accept, and approach the darkness mingled with light that resides therein; this is a powerful book worthy of a read.

The book begins with an interesting premise.  The main character is a successful author with a wife and family but is diagnosed with leprosy.  While he is away dealing with his disease, his wife leaves him.  A complete outcast, he stumbles through his new life as an outcast.  Here, Donaldson expertly builds sympathy for the character.  The reader identifies to some extent with the archetype of “outcast” and sympathizes with Covenant, who leaves his house only rarely and has little or no human contact.  When he leaves the house for an altogether too uncommon trip to town, we crave the humanity that he craves.  His interactions with a strange beggar find us, too, trying to get the beggar to accept charity from Covenant.  The reader wants some normalcy for this man, as much as the character wants it!  Of course, it does not come, and we feel the despair that Donaldson’s character feels.  We feel it as much as we feel the police car that hits him and sends him into unconsciousness.

All of the above occurs in the very beginning of the novel.  However, it begins the masterful manipulation of the reader’s emotions that Donaldson has carried well into the rest of the series.  By the time Covenant wakes up in the “Land”, a mysterious and magical otherworld; the reader has a degree of sympathy for this unfortunate outcast that few characters can evoke.  He’s given a warning by an evil being named Foul the Despiser and charged with delivering it.  That’s when Donaldson drops the hammer.

Moments into his quest, Covenant finds himself healed with the help of an innocent inhabitant, a young girl named Lena.  Overcome by his health, his freedom from leprosy, and his new vitality; Covenant rapes the girl.  The shock of the moment is overwhelming to the reader and the sympathy built up in the beginning drains away in an instant.  However, the roller coaster doesn’t end.  The Land’s inhabitants are bound by an oath of non-violence and cannot retaliate.  Further, it becomes apparent quickly that Covenant is the key to preventing Foul from destroying the magical world.  Thus, not only will Covenant be unpunished for the heinousness of his crime, but also those hurt most deeply by it will be forced to render assistance in his quest to protect them all.  It’s brilliant and masterfully crafted emotional whiplash!

What is truly remarkable here is that Donaldson effectively builds sympathy for Covenant as a man with no friends, an outcast through no fault of his own.  Then, he takes the cause of that forced separation away.  Just when the reader feels that joy, the rape immediately makes Covenant an outcast again, this time a justifiable outcast.  However, while on Earth he had the ability to hide in his house for most of the time, in the Land he must constantly interact with those who shun him.  Furthermore, they shun him not for a disease over which he has no control, but instead for his own actions.  Donaldson is able to explore the nature of being anathema while removing all blame from those who would despise the target.  The entire book becomes an exploration of the interpersonal, psychological, and physical effects on a man become pariah.  Donaldson, however, removes the reader’s ability to blame those who shun.  When we’re angry at Covenant, we feel the guilt associated with oppression.  When we sympathize with him, we feel repulsed that we care about a rapist.  The twisted and constant roller coaster of sympathy and hatred makes this book a challenging read.  We don’t feel good about wanting Covenant to succeed.

However, we absolutely do want him to succeed. Amazingly, by setting his high fantasy quest against this psychological backdrop, Donaldson makes the quest far more interesting and exciting than it really has a right to be.  It is a fairly typical hero’s journey, with an evil monster and the end of the world at stake.  It’s a quest to find a magical staff.  In fact, without the backdrop of leprosy, rape, and psychological shunning; the story would be completely run of the mill and mundane.  However, with that backdrop, this elementary storyline becomes more heroic, more powerful, and more epic.  Every one of those questing with Covenant does so because of the importance of his quest.  Their justifiable hatred of them is set aside so that the Land can be saved.  The reader can do no less.

Covenant’s journey to redemption is tied to the quest as well.  As we see the inner-workings of Covenant’s psyche, we come to realize that the cure for his “emotional” leprosy will come from his success in the Land just as the cure for his physical came at his arrival.  It is an emotionally wrenching and jarring journey.  We watch Covenant engage in both good and evil acts, all designed to redeem himself.  The story ends with a typical hero victory, but the reader does not find vindication for Covenant.  Instead, and he is transported back to the real world, we feel a measure of both sympathy and righteousness that he is a leper once more.

This novel is a difficult and emotionally draining read.  It’s not for everyone.  Maybe it’s not for most readers.  I read it for the first time at fourteen years old and there is no way on Earth or in the Land that I’d let any of my kids read it that young.  Still, those who can stomach the powerful roller coaster of joy and disgust that Donaldson orchestrates will find the book extraordinary and rewarding.

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Tags: lord foul's bane, Stephen R. Donaldson, The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, thomas covenant