Before I begin, I should note that there is a tendency for some readers to trust Word of God above anything else. For example, if an author says that a character is Good then that character is Good, and as readers we should accept that they are good and justify whatever actions that characters takes by assuming that they have to be Right, therefore anyone who opposes them is Wrong.
I flatly reject this.
The page is sovereign. Everything I need to know about the characters and story is contained on the pages, and any conclusions that I draw about these characters will be based on facts contained in said pages. If a book presents a character as being good, but that character’s actions reveal him to be far more sinister, I will not assume that he is a good character.
I do this for two reasons:
First, good writers do not need anything besides the words written on the page to convey everything the reader needs to know about the story. If a story requires outside explanation from an author (NOT simply an explanation from someone who has extensively studied the work and is aware of deeper meanings hidden within the text that may not be recognized by a reader the first time through) then, in my mind, it fails as a story.
Second, there is a literary technique known as unreliable narration. Good writers will use this technique in order to expose a character’s hypocrisy, or demonstrate that although a character may tell the reader one thing, the reader understands that that character is wrong, or different from how they present themselves. As a reader, I am not going to change the way I read a book based on whether an author knows what they are doing or not – I will only read the book based on information that is on the pages.
In my opinion, Christopher Paolini does not know what he’s doing. It’s rare that an author can write an entire series and misunderstand it so thoroughly, but Paolini has managed to do so. I know that Paolini intended Eragon to be the hero, and I know he intended Sloan to be a minor villain. Ultimately, though, what Paolini intended has absolutely no affect on my analysis; only what Paolini actually wrote.
I should also advise you that while this article covers Sloan’s complete storyline throughout the first three Inheritance books, it is by necessity almost as much about Eragon and Roran as it is about Sloan himself, if not more so.
Eragon
We first meet Sloan on page 11 of Eragon. Eragon has found the dragon-egg, and, believing it to be a rock, takes it to the butcher’s to trade it for meat. Here we get the first description of Sloan, and it is through Eragon’s eyes.
He had never liked Sloan. The butcher always treated him with disdain, as if he were something unclean. A widower, Sloan seemed to care for only one person – his daughter, Katrina, on whom he doted (page 11).
Keep in mind we are viewing this through Eragon’s eyes, and Eragon is far from a reliable narrator. But still, what does this tell us? Sloan and Eragon do not like each other, but there are plenty of perfectly decent people who dislike each other for any number of reasons. But let’s examine the second part of this. Sloan is a widower, and he dotes on his daughter, Katrina. Later, we learn that Sloan’s wife died in the mountains known as the Spine, and he has a deep-rooted, possibly irrational fear of the mountains – which is understandable. It’s doubly understandable in pseudo-medieval settings when you’re dealing with a deeply superstitious, uneducated peasant like Sloan. And it’s worth noting that NO ONE in the series has any illusions that the mountains aren’t dangerous. They are, it’s an established fact. It’s just that Sloan fears them more than most.
Sloan has never remarried and there are indications that he’s never gotten over his wife’s death. It’s very common for someone who loses a family member to become doubly protective of any remaining family. Sloan is overprotective of Katrina. And with that over-protectiveness (we know that Katrina is quite good-looking), it seems obvious that Sloan would be instantly suspicious and dislike any young men who may or may not have an interest in his daughter, which explains why he dislikes Eragon and Roran.
Eragon shows Sloan the stone, who eyes it and eventually offers Eragon three crowns, which is enough to buy meat that will feed three people for a little less than week. Honestly, that sounds like a pretty good deal. Yes, the egg may be worth more than that, but it also might be completely worthless. Eragon protests but eventually agrees to the trade. However, when Eragon reveals he found the egg in the Spine Sloan changes his mind and orders Eragon out of the shop. Again, this is perfectly within Sloan’s rights – if he believes the egg is cursed, then he has every right to refuse it as payment. Of course, as a shopkeeper he can discriminate against pretty much anyone he wants to for any reason, but he has a legitimate excuse for this.
Horst, the smith, comes in and buys the meat for Eragon. Sloan isn’t pleased with the arrangement but gives in, and Eragon and Horst leave. As they walk outside, we learn another bit of information about Sloan, this time through Horst’s eyes:
“Sloan’s a vicious troublemaker; it does him good to be humbled.” (page 15)
Horst is a slightly more reliable narrator than Eragon but I still don’t trust his opinion completely. However, based on what we do know, Sloan seems like a little bit of a jerk, but there are several interesting reasons why he is a jerk. He’s the kind of character you want to know more about.
Later, Eragon is at home with his uncle, Garrow, who reveals more about Sloan:
“Sloan’s wife, Ismira, went over the Igualda Falls a year before you were brought here. He hasn’t been near the Spine since, nor had anything to do with it. But that’s no reason to refuse payment. I think he wanted to give you trouble.” (page 18).
If someone is offering you a mysterious stone that was found in a mountain range you think is cursed, that is an excellent reason to refuse it as payment, especially when there’s a good chance it might be worthless. Not that I blame Garrow for taking Eragon’s side, as Eragon is family.
We move forward to page 67. Horst warns Eragon that there are strangers in the village asking questions about the stone/dragon-egg. Eragon creeps through town until he stumbles across the strangers talking to Sloan – or at least, that’s who it sounds like. From the conversation, Eragon guesses Sloan is talking about him.
The voice was deep and moist. It conjured up images of creeping decay, mold, and other things best left untouched. “Are you sure? We would hate to think you had made a mistake. If that were so, it would be most…unpleasant.” Eragon could imagine only too well what they might do. Would anyone but the Empire dare threaten people like that? Probably not, but whoever sent the egg might be powerful enough to use force with impunity.
“Yeah, I’m sure. He had it then. I’m not lying. Plenty of people know about it. Go ask them.” Sloan sounded shaken (page 67).
The scene makes Eragon resolve to punch Sloan in the face, but let’s take Sloan’s point of view: First, it seems likely that these strangers have identified themselves as agents of the Empire, which gives them the legal right to demand any information they like. Second, it’s likely that they have threatened Sloan or Katrina. In the next scene the mere presence of these strangers is enough to give Eragon a panic attack and knock him to the ground. They’re Nazgul rip-offs, they scare everyone shitless. Finally, there is no reason for Sloan to not give them this information. Yes, they may be terrifying, but they’re asking about a rock. Why would Sloan lie? More importantly, why would he lie to government agents who may be trying to recover valuable government property (which, as it so happens, they are)?
And that, believe it or not, is the last time we see Sloan in Brick One.
Eldest
Sloan is first mentioned on page 31 when Roran thinks about Katrina, who he wants to marry. He and Sloan have never been friendly and he doubts Sloan will let them get engaged.
The Empire’s soldiers arrive in Carvahall in search of Roran, who hides in the forest. As time passes, the soldiers begin stealing and fighting amongst each other, eventually killing one of the villagers. A group of villagers, including Roran, attack the soldiers and the Ra’zac (the Nazgul clones), running them off. Afterward, the villagers meet to discuss their options:
“Even if you frightened off the Ra’zac and their soldiers, Galbatorix will just send more men. The Empire will never give up until they get Roran.”
“We should hand him over,” snarled Sloan.
Horst raised his hands. “I agree; no one is worth more than all of Carvahall. But if we surrender Roran, do you really think Galbatorix will let us escape punishment for our resistance?” (pages 93-94).
It’s interesting to note that Horst actually agrees with Sloan, but it’s also interesting that they agree on this after they attack the soldiers and run them off. After all, they have a very simple and easy way of resolving this conflict. Just in case they don’t feel like handing Roran over, they could have ordered Roran to leave the village and told the soldiers that they saw him fleeing the town. Hell, they could have just told the soldiers this. Instead, the villagers – NOT Sloan – decided to take the single worst course of action they could have possibly taken. This is important.
Eventually the villagers decide to fortify Carvahall against future attacks, because that is a totally sustainable plan when you’ve started a war against an entire Empire, but after they fortify the place, the Ra’zac and their soldiers attack again. This time Roran ends up fighting side by side with Sloan, who kills two of the soldiers and terrifies another into fleeing, effectively ending the battle.
Roran shuddered and looked at Sloan, who was cleaning his blades. “You fought well.” He had never suspected that the butcher contained such ferocity.
Sloan said in a low voice, “They’ll never get Katrina. Never, even if I must skin the lot of them, or fight a thousand Urgals and the king to boot. I’d tear the sky itself down and let the Empire drown in its own blood before she suffers so much as a scratch.” (page 138)
Sloan is clearly a man who will do anything – literally anything – to protect those he loves. Is this so different from many of the heroes we regularly celebrate? Most movie heroes are willing to flaunt the law, murder villains without a trial, and even knock the ‘good guys’ unconscious to accomplish their own ends and save their girl. Is Sloan any different?
We cut forward to a village meeting. Roran suggest that they send the woman and children into the Spine to protect them. Sloan, understandably, objects, and asks how they will stay warm and what will they eat? Roran provides several answers for this, but it’s clear that Sloan has rejected the Spine because of his fear of it. It is, after all, the place that killed his wife. It also killed half of Galbatorix’s army that one time he tried to go through it. Sloan’s fear of the Spine might be excessive, but it is still justified. At any rate, Sloan states that neither he nor his family will ever enter the Spine while he is alive, and then storms out of the meeting.
At this point, I would probably chase after Sloan, sit him down, maybe make him a nice cup of tea, and launch into an explanation that would go something like this:
“Listen…Sloan. Buddy. I understand that your wife died in the Spine. I cannot even imagine what that must have felt like – the only thing I’ve experienced that’s even comparable is the death of my father Garrow, and even that cannot compare. I understand why you hate the Spine, I really do, and if I was in your shoes, I’d feel the exact same way. The Spine is dangerous, but for someone who understands the dangers, who truly respects and understands the mountains, I think that the danger is lessened. If there were any other way – any possible way that could keep our families safe – believe me, I’d embrace it. So please, if you have some ideas, share them. I’m willing to consider any options, but I really believe that the Spine is the best choice. There are some dangers, certainly, but we know what those dangers are. If we prepare ourselves, it gives us the best chance at survival – a better chance than anything else. And so I ask you, no, I beg you, please reconsider. You want to do what is best for Katrina, I understand that, and this is the best option for keeping her out of harm’s way. They will be all right.”
That’s what I would do. Maybe I’ve always put too much weight in trying to convince someone through words, but I usually find it’s the best option and tends to yield the best results.
Roran, unsurprisingly, does not use his words:
As Roran saw it, Sloan was endangering Katrina through his own pigheaded stubbornness. If he can’t bring himself to accept the Spine as a place of refuge, decided Roran, then he’s become my enemy and I have to take matters into my own hands (page 179).
The Spine being a place of refuge is Roran’s opinion, and it’s still not a particularly good plan. It’s also extremely dangerous, and yet Roran decides that this makes Sloan his enemy, without even bothering to try and convince Sloan again.
We next see Sloan as the villagers are preparing to leave Carvahall. Katrina is carrying a pack and Sloan realizes that she plans to leave with the villagers. Sloan pulls the pack off Katrina, throws it to the ground, and starts to drag her away. Roran jumps in and separates them and shoves Sloan backward. Sloan tells Roran that he has no right to interfere.
“I have every right.” Roran looked at the ring of spectators who had gathered around and then declared so that all could hear: “Katrina and I are engaged to be married, and I would not have my future wife treated so!” For the first time that day, the villagers fell completely silent; even the donkeys were quiet.
Surprise and a deep, inconsolable pain sprang onto Sloan’s vulnerable face, along with the glimmer of tears. For a moment, Roran felt sympathy for him, then a series of contortions distorted Sloan’s visage, each more extreme than the last, until his skin turned beet red. He cursed and said, “You two-faced coward! How could you look me in the eye and speak to me like an honest man while, at the same time, courting my daughter without permission? I dealt with you in good faith, and here I find you plundering my house while my back is turned.” (page 184)
Keep in mind that Roran himself has admitted that asking Katrina to marry him was wrong:
It was wrong for him to ask, or for her to accept, without Sloan’s permission (page 132).
And yet he did. Five days ago. That’s right. He asks Katrina to marry him, and then lets five days pass before this confrontation, and during these five days Roran knows that he should approach Sloan to explain the situation and ask for his permission, and yet he doesn’t. Roran attempts to explain this as ‘events have conspired against me’, which is total bullshit. He didn’t because he is a coward. Roran should have manned up, went to Sloan, explained the situation, and done the right thing. Sure, Sloan might have said no, and Roran and Katrina might have ignored what he said and gone ahead with their engagement, but at least that would have been the honest thing to do. Instead, Roran has spit in Sloan’s face and disrespected him in every possible way.
Now you may be thinking, what’s the big deal? Sloan doesn’t own Katrina. Well, if we look at this from an Alagaesian point of view, Roran really doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Sloan is her father, and what he says pretty much goes. He has the right to tell his daughter what to do and Roran needs to ask his permission before asking Katrina to marry him.
Even if we look at this from a 21st-century point of view, Roran doesn’t come across much better. Katrina is under the age of 18. In many countries, she would still be under the authority of her father/parents/legal guardian, who would decide whether to let her get married or if she was allowed to go to dangerous places that might kill her.
Sloan tells Roran that he would rather have a “maggot-riddled pig” for a son than him. He points out that Roran has no farm and family, which are valid points. Katrina needs someone to provide for her. Roran is, at best, desperately poor. He has no land, no house, and no real way to provide for Katrina or any children they might have.
Sloan orders Katrina to come to him. Katrina refuses and tells him that she is going to marry Roran. Sloan tries to grab her but Roran punches him, knocking him down. Sloan is crushed:
In a low whisper, he said, “It is always so; those closest to the heart cause the most pain. Thou will have no dowry from me, snake, nor your mother’s inheritance.” Weeping bitterly, Sloan turned and fled towards his shop (page 185).
This seems harsh, but let’s keep several things in mind: first, Sloan has just been humiliated in front of the entire village by someone he despises. After this, his beloved daughter has just told him that she chooses this person over him. Finally, by telling him this, she’s also told him she’s planning on traveling into the Spine, which in Sloan’s mind means that she is going to a certain death. These words are also spoken in anger and embarrassment. It’s quite possible that Sloan would have later relented.
Later, Elain, one of the villagers, calls Roran on this:
“[…] why on earth didn’t you speak to Sloan about your engagement before this morning?”
[…]
A painful laugh escaped Roran. “I could have, but it never seemed the right time with all the attacks.”
“The Ra’zac haven’t attacked for almost six days now.”
He scowled. “No, but…it was… Oh, I don’t know!” He banged his fist on the table with frustration (page 192).
I’m not saying that this situation would be easy for Roran. It wouldn’t. It would be one of the hardest things in his life. But Roran is, for better or worse, a Hero. Eldest is the tale of Roran becoming a Hero and saving his entire village from certain death. And yet this hero is unable to do the right thing by the woman he loves? And he doesn’t even have an excuse? Not even a weak one?
Elain tells Roran that he needs to go to Sloan the next day and beg his forgiveness. Roran protests but Elain argues him down and the scene ends with Roran going to sleep, and we can assume, at least, that Roran might have gone to Sloan the next day to beg his forgiveness. To be honest, I think Roran should have gone to Sloan that night, but your mileage may vary. That night, however, the Ra’zac attack and capture Katrina, wounding Roran in the process. Roran and some villagers chase after them and eventually find them with a large group of soldiers which is apparently too large to attack. On the way they find Byrd, the watchman, who has been stabbed in the back and is dead. After a bit, the Ra’zac carry Katrina out of a tent, and they are followed by Sloan, who is not tied up at all.
Roran stared, unable to comprehend how Sloan had been captured. His house isn’t anywhere near Horst’s. Then it struck him. “He betrayed us,” said Roran with wonder. His fist slowly tightened on his hammer as the true horror of the situation exploded within him. “He killed Byrd and he betrayed us!” Tears of rage streamed down his face (page 199).
There is no evidence – absolutely none – that Sloan killed Byrd. One could argue that Byrd was stabbed in the back so it must have been Sloan. I would point out that Byrd is a peasant with no military training. It would not really be that hard to sneak up behind him and stab him.
However, I would like to go over the more important word – betrayed. Roran thinks that Sloan has betrayed them. And in a way, he has. But betrayal is and always will be in the eyes of the wronged party. It is a very subjective word. Let us keep in mind that King Galbatorix is the legal and rightful ruler of (most of) Alagaesia. It is not be hard to argue that Sloan’s true loyalty belongs to Galbatorix, and by extension, the Ra’zac, as they are agents of the Empire. It’s worth pointing out that everyone in the entire village is already a traitor.
What we do know is that Sloan does not (at first) appear to be under duress, which indicates that Sloan has struck a deal with the Ra’zac. Which is well within his rights. Sloan can decide where his loyalties lie. I would be remiss to not point out here that Sloan is motivated by love. In his mind, by entering the Spine, Katrina is going to her death. He is doing what he has to do to protect her, which is something that both Eragon and Roran have done throughout the ‘Cycle’.
As they watch, Sloan gets into an argument with the Ra’zac, who knock him unconscious and then leave, taking him and Katrina with them. And that’s the end Sloan’s involvement in Brick Two.
Brisingr
We next see Sloan inside the prison at Helgrind while Roran and Eragon are rescuing Katrina.
His ragged clothes barely covered his pale, emaciated body; the corners of his bones stood out in sharp relief underneath his translucent skin. His blue veins were also prominent. Sores had formed on his wrists where the manacles chafed. The ulcers oozed a mixture of clear fluid and blood. What remained of his hair had turned gray or white and hung in lank, greasy ropes over his pock-marked face. […] Where his eyelids should have been, there were now only a few scraps of tattered skin draped over the raw cavities underneath. […] With a shock, Eragon realized that the Ra’zac had pecked out Sloan’s eyes.
What he then should do, Eragon could not decide. The butcher had told the Ra’zac that Eragon had found Saphira’s egg. Furthermore, Sloan had murdered the watchman, Byrd, and betrayed Carvahall to the Empire. If he were brought before his fellow villagers, they would undoubtedly find Sloan guilty and condemn him to death by hanging.
It seemed only right, to Eragon, that the butcher should die for his crimes (page 54).
As we have been over, telling the Ra’zac that Eragon had found Saphira’s egg could not possibly be considered a crime. Any one of the villagers would have done the same thing, probably without even the threat of force. It’s not something that someone would realize they need to keep secret. And even if you think that telling the Ra’zac that was morally wrong, it’s not a crime. We also do not know that Sloan murdered Byrd – Roran assumed that he did. While it’s possible that Sloan did this, it’s far from concrete and there is no evidence for it.
Finally, let’s examine Sloan’s ‘betrayal’. What, exactly, has Sloan done? We don’t know. Neither does Eragon. We do know that the Ra’zac knew where Roran was sleeping, so someone probably told them. Based on the circumstances, I think Sloan went to the Ra’zac and offered to give them Roran, since Roran is all they want and that is why they and the soldiers were hanging around Carvahall in the first place. The villagers amount to jack shit. The only reason why the Ra’zac even cared about them was because the villagers attacked them in defense of Roran.
So: what has Sloan done? He has gone to the legal authorities – remember, the Ra’zac are agents of King Galbatorix – and turned in a criminal. Roran is a wanted fugitive and he has killed soldiers. Sloan has turned Roran in to save Katrina’s life. And although we don’t know this, it is certainly possible that Sloan has engineered a deal to spare the village as well. It is likely that once Roran was apprehended the Ra’zac would have simply left. The villagers might have faced repercussions, but they were certainly no worse off than they were before. I think it’s also important to remember that this entire situation that the village found itself in is not Sloan’s fault. He did not attack a group of soldiers and put the entire village into danger. He is simply reacting to a shitty situation in the best way that he knew how.
[On a side note, I have a plausible explanation for how Sloan is completely innocent – completely innocent – of absolutely everything. I’m not going to go into it here because I don’t think it’s actually what happened, but if Sloan were ever taken to trial, he could certainly pull this out. Also, that’s a separate project for a future date].
But let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that Sloan is guilty. He betrayed the village’s trust. Let’s even say he murdered Byrd. There are, in Alagaesia, people who pronounce judgment, Eragon knows this and even thinks about them over the next few pages, so even if Sloan is guilty, he has the right to speak for himself. Witnesses should be called, and an appointed judge or jury has the right to determine his guilt and any punishment. Not Eragon.
Eragon has already decided that Sloan is guilty, without even asking him to account for his actions, and his reasoning for not bringing Sloan back to face a trial is because it might bother Katrina:
Watching an arbitrator publicly denounce Sloan’s offenses and then hang him would be no easy thing for her or, by extension, Roran. Such hardship might even create enough ill will between them to end their engagement. Either way, Eragon was convinced that taking Sloan back with them would sow discord between him, Roran, Katrina, and the other villagers, and might engender enough anger to distract them from their struggle against the Empire (page 55).
Distract them from the struggle against the Empire? Bullshit. Not a chance in hell. No, Eragon is considering suspending a man’s right to a fair trial and murdering him because it might make life difficult otherwise.
That is literally, without exaggeration, what is happening in this scene.
Naturally, Eragon tries to justify it:
Sloan’s guilt was not in dispute; he was a murderer and a traitor. Any lawgiver would sentence him to execution (page 55).
And even if his guilt was not in dispute, Eragon is not a lawgiver.
Eragon’s conscience doesn’t let him kill Sloan, so he knocks Sloan out and tells Roran and Katrina that Sloan is dead. After Roran and Katrina leave, he carries Sloan out of Helgrind and starts trying to decide what to do with him.
“I can’t just let him go,” he murmured. If he did, Sloan might track down Roran and Katrina, a prospect that Eragon considered unacceptable. Besides, even though he was not going to kill Sloan, he believed the butcher should be punished for his crimes (page 75).
Unacceptable…why? Because they would know that Eragon just lied to them? More important, Sloan is blind, homeless, and helpless. Even if he managed to find them, what exactly would he be able to do?
After a brief conversation, Eragon introduces himself. Initially Sloan does not believe him.
Thrusting out with his mind he engulfed Sloan’s consciousness in his own and forced the butcher to accept memories that confirmed the truth of his statements. He also wanted Sloan to feel the power that was now his and to realize that he was no longer entirely human. And while Eragon was reluctant to admit it, he enjoyed having control over a man who had often made trouble for him and his family. He withdrew half a minute later (page 78).
Eragon is supposed to be the hero of this story.
The butcher’s demeanor became cold and flinty. “Blast you,” he said. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Eragon Son of None. Understand this, though. I did what I did for Katrina’s sake and nothing else.” (page 78).
At no point does Eragon ever ask Sloan what happened, nor does Sloan ever admit to anything.
After some thought, Eragon figures out Sloan’s true name. He has a brief telepathic conversation with the queen of the Elves, and finally decides on Sloan’s punishment. Again, he does not ask Sloan if he has any defense for his actions. Eragon just pronounces judgment:
“Since my conscience prevents me from killing you, your punishment is to be the most terrible I could invent short of death. I’m convinced that what you said before is true, that Katrina is more important to you than anything else. Therefore, your punishment is this: you shall not see, touch, or talk with your daughter again, even unto your dying day, and you shall live with the knowledge that she is with Roran and they are happy together, without you.” (page 90)
Some fates are worse than death. Eragon has just sentenced Sloan to one. In an act that Eragon pretends is merciful, he deliberately chooses the most cruel punishment that he can possibly think of for someone who has done everything in the name of love – and more importantly, has not committed any crime. Even if you think that Sloan did kill Byrd, he has already lost everything. The Ra’zac ate his eyes out of his head. He has spent months rotting in prison. At this point, it’s not unreasonable to think that Sloan has suffered enough, yet Eragon sentences him to the most cruel punishment that he can think of that will give him inconsolable grief and heartache for the rest of his natural life.
Sloan spends a paragraph calling Eragon every name in the book, which warms my heart, and finally tells Eragon that he doesn’t have the right to do any of this.
“I am a Dragon Rider. I have as much right as any king or queen.” (page 91)
Bullshit.
While kings and queens do not necessarily have ‘rights’ as we would argue in the 21st century, at the very least they were recognized in medieval days as being arbitrators by the general public, and if the general public gives you the power to do something, then you have that power. More importantly, a king or arbitrator will probably be a neutral party in a disagreement or trial and be able to make a fair and correct decision based on the evidence presented. We already know that Eragon is not even remotely impartial. He has admitted to himself that he enjoys tormenting Sloan as revenge for how the butcher treated him. There is not a single person in all of Alagaesia who is less qualified to pass judgment, and of course Eragon does.
He forces Sloan to swear oaths in the ancient language that will prevent him from ever contacting Katrina again, and also compels him to travel to the land of the Elves. Surprisingly, Eragon does leave him with a nugget of hope: as time passes, a man’s true name might change. If it does, Sloan would no longer be bound by the oaths he just swore. He also has made a deal with the Elves: if Sloan changes and becomes a better person, the Elves will give him his eyesight back. And I think this would almost redeem Eragon, except he’s handed down this horrible punishment on someone who is completely innocent. Nice job, buddy.
There is a brief and uninteresting scene where Eragon meets Sloan near the end of Brisingr. Sloan does not seem happy about his current predicament. Which I think is pretty understandable.
What can we take away from all this? Sloan got shafted, Roran is a douchebag, and Eragon is a sociopathic prick. Also, Christopher Paolini really, really cannot write.
Further Reading: I highly recommend Eragon Shadeslayer: Sociopath
TakuGifian on 14 February 2011, 06:43 said:
You make some excellent points. This really made me think a bit deeper about the character and how his life and motives seems to be so easily passed over by Paolini and his “Heroes”. Eragon’s sociopathy is already well documented, but I believe this is the first proper article that I’ve come across that properly documents Sloan’s innocence and potential motives.
I tip my hat to you, sir.
Deborah on 14 February 2011, 07:59 said:
That was very good. I liked how you pointed out that he could very well have been innocent.
Now someone needs to do an essay on how he strangled that kid.
Deborah on 14 February 2011, 08:00 said:
I mean how Eragon did. Sorry.
Sweguy on 14 February 2011, 09:47 said:
Hm… while I agree on some points, I have to oppose some parts of your article.
To me, there’s no doubt that Sloan killed Byrd. If you saw a dead man shot in the head just outside a house owned by a firearm dealer, and who just happens to have left shortly after the committed murder, then its quite obvious that he did it. I don’t like it when authors shove all the facts in your face; a little reader’s freedom is nice to have. But it seems like you disagree since you said ‘good writers do not need anything besides the words written on the page to convey everything the reader needs to know about the story’. Short stories usually don’t fill in everything you need to know about the story, and that’s why they’re so good! Because they stimulate your imaginations. Just like the Sloan-Katrina-kidnapping-scene did to me.
And another thing; I like it when heroes aren’t all in all purely good and resembles an epic sowrd-skilled Jesus who forgives and shit. It feelt like Eragon earned some colour to his personality when he enjoyed torturing Sloan. Of course, that was just a one time event, because the next thing he went back to be a lifeless and boring Gary Stu.
Deborah on 14 February 2011, 10:45 said:
Well, the main point is that is Eragon is supposed to be the epic and noble leader. He’s not being written like an anti-hero. So CP’s trying to make him both at the same time, and its not working.
swenson on 14 February 2011, 13:23 said:
That was extremely well-done, I have to say! Nice job.
I do have to disagree in a minor way, though. While you’re completely right about Sloan’s motivations being love for Katrina, ‘‘not’‘ maliciousness or evil or whatever it was supposed to be, it still seems like a betrayal when he goes to the Ra’zac. If we start from the assumption that the so-called Evil Empire really is an evil empire (which I know is not really supported by the books, but trying to take apart the entire series would take far more space or time than I have here!), then the decision to sell out the entire village to the Ra’zac, already established to Carvahall as really, really creepy dudes, is kind of a betrayal. He may have done it for excusable reasons (protection of his beloved daughter), but I’m not so sure that completely excuses him.
He still certainly isn’t the villain CP makes him out to be, though, I’ll agree with that. Can we compromise on deeply flawed side character who doesn’t deserve the fate he receives for the mistakes he makes, even if they are rather serious? Roran and Eragon’s reactions to him are still not justifiable at all.
On a side note, do you know where you got Katrina’s age? Is it in the first book?
gervasium on 14 February 2011, 14:46 said:
I too have to disagree with a small part of this essay, though everything else is absolutely right.
While Eragon should in no way be allowed to judge Sloan for his actions. Sloan did kill Byrd and he is a murderer, because of how the true name works. Eragon guessing Sloan’s true name in the magic language means, according to what has been said before in the text, that he understands the essence of Sloan’s personality. He would not have guessed the name if Sloan was not who Eragon thinks he is (a murderer and a traitor would probably have a different name than someone who is incapable of such actions).
swenson on 14 February 2011, 15:35 said:
^^ Interesting point there. I hadn’t considered that part of it, that Eragon being able to correctly guess his true name meant that he must have correctly understood Sloan on some level.
The name is never specifically given, though. So it could have been something about obsession with his daughter or fear or something that didn’t have to do with his (unproven, although I’ll concede it’s fairly likely) act of murder.
RandomX2 on 14 February 2011, 18:43 said:
I like thinking of secondary characters as having powerful personalities, so I like this article.
This was a fun read.
TakuGifian on 14 February 2011, 19:22 said:
Hmm… A lot of people in the comment seem to think that there is no doubt that Sloan is guilty of Bird’s (I refuse to spell it with a ‘y’) murder. However, whatever happened to presumed innocence? Along with the right to a fair trial, Sloan should also be given the right to the benefit of the doubt (unless he has a history of violent assault/murder and the required callousness of character, of which—as shown by the article—we do not see evidence). He could easily be either guilty or not guilty, but using circumstantial evidence to remove all reasonable doubt is not the way the system should work.
What swenson said is true, as well: Eragon could have (in fact, it explicitly said that he did) find Sloan’s love and protectiveness of Katrina as the defining, overwhelming feature of his True Name, not his presumed guilt. One can be guilty of murder and still have the True Name “Loves-His-Daughter” or whatever, if that love overwhelms his own guilty consciousness and was the primary motivation/justification for for his crime.
My point is that if we’re defending Sloan, we should defend everything, not just pick and choose. His guilt or innocence was never proven, and there is no evidence other than circumstance and coincidence, which would not hold up in a modern court. Presumably the forensic techniques of a backwoods pseudo-medieval village aren’t advanced enough to move beyond circumstantial evidence, but that does not mean that we as readers should automatically assume Sloan’s guilt as well. It goes back to the notion of the “unreliable narrator” brought up earlier.
autumnfey on 15 February 2011, 00:04 said:
“Well, the main point is that is Eragon is supposed to be the epic and noble leader. He’s not being written like an anti-hero. So CP’s trying to make him both at the same time, and it’s not working.”
Exactly this. Unless CP has learned something about subtlety, which I see no evidence of, Eragon is supposed to be a just person but his actions show us a different picture. Frankly, I find him distinctly unlikeable and almost impossible to relate to. Sloan, on the other hand, though not necessarily likeable, has motivations which are somewhat sympathetic and understandable. But of course he is vilified to a large degree in favor of Eragon and Roran, our “heroes.”
Rorschach on 15 February 2011, 01:09 said:
Hmmmm. It seems that I have sparked some debate. Excellent.
I am forced to completely disagree on this point. I’d say that makes him a suspect, certainly. Maybe even a prime suspect. That’s about it.
I agree that freedom is good to have, and there are few things I hate more than authors who spell out every little thing. But at the same time, if Paolini intended Sloan to be guilty and wanted his ‘Hero’ to punish Sloan, then Sloan’s guilt should not be in doubt.
What I mean by this was that as readers, even if we have to use our imagination a bit, we should be able to piece things together from the clues we are given on-page and arrive at the correct conclusion.
I also don’t think that this really relates to what Paolini is doing. Typically, this is used by authors to layer meanings and subtext into the story and to spark debate about things that could go either way – as an example I’ll use Severus Snape. Rowling layered plenty of clues throughout the Harry Potter series and fans had plenty to debate regarding whether Snape was good or evil. And not knowing for certain didn’t matter, because Snape was an interesting and fascinating character throughout the series and it worked, even when readers didn’t know where Snape’s true loyalties were.
That kind of subtlety is absolutely fantastic and it’s what makes a story so fascinating to read.
Now, for the sake of argument, let’s say that in, say, the middle of the 6th Harry Potter book, Rowling has Harry Potter murder Snape. And this is presented as a good deed and Harry is lauded by nearly everyone for heroically murdering Snape. Fans, however, would be incensed. They would point out pages of evidence that despite Snape’s flaws, he was actually a good person. They would point out that Snape had reasons for everything he did. And if Rowling had just said “Well Harry is right and Snape was actually Evil….” it would leave a sour taste in everyone’s mouth because that’s not the way the characters were actually written.
Not going to lie, it made Eragon a lot more interesting – for a few more pages. My main beef with this is that Eragon is presented as a paragon of virtue and light. Read any interview with Paolini – that’s what Eragon is. He’s Good. That’s the way he’s presented in the books – as being Good.
It makes me dislike Eragon, more, certainly, but it really only left a sour taste in my mouth because no one, throughout the series (except Sloan himself) is willing to call Eragon on anything he does. Nobody points out his sociopathic and cruel actions. Nobody even really notices. And you can tell that Paolini really thinks that Eragon is the next Luke Skywalker….unquestionably and thoroughly Good and Right.
I’m not going to really argue this point, as I kind’ve agree with you. In point of actual fact, I think it’s very likely that Sloan did actually murder Byrd. Ultimately, though, that doesn’t matter. If Sloan did something wrong, then he deserves his day in court. He doesn’t deserve to have Eragon serve as judge, jury, and executioner.
I got this off of an Inheritance wiki. I admit it might be incorrect.
I disagree, but you do make a very interesting point. This would have been solved by Paolini inserting a line about how Eragon realizes, through magic, that Sloan really is a murderer. But of course he doesn’t. I’m not particularly fond of this whole “true name” business – I could write an essay on why I think it’s stupid – but I also don’t think that a single action can define a person, even if that action is as extreme as murder. More importantly, Sloan has killed soldiers to defend himself and his daughter. In Sloan’s mind (if he did kill Byrd), he would probably equate killing Byrd as a necessary action to save his daughter’s life. No different than killing the soldiers. And we do know that Sloan is unrepentant for whatever he has done. If he did kill Byrd, it doesn’t seem to affect him much.
This.
Also, it’s entirely possible that Sloan is as guilty as sin. And if he was, I wouldn’t need to change a lot about this essay. Everything that I said regarding his interactions with Roran and Eragon would pretty much remain the same. Even if Eragon knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sloan did everything and worse, he doesn’t have the right to do the things to Sloan that he does.
TakuGifian on 15 February 2011, 07:43 said:
I think you should. I really, really think you should.
Also, that was a very well-reasoned reply. (Oh dear, I hope I’m not becoming a fan) I agree with each of your points.
This. What annoyed me about this is that Eragon doesn’t give a second thought to the hell on earth he’d just condemned a presumed guilty man, for almost the rest of the book. He doesn’t have a single moment of “did I do the right thing? What if he didn’t kill Beard?” (Or, if he does, it is almost immediately crushed by his overwhelming sense of self-righteousness or that of the fawning yes-man he is surrounded with).
Deborah on 15 February 2011, 08:02 said:
And Eragon never even thinks that maybe, just maybe, Sloan has been punished enough? And even so, that he might deserve a fair trial and a chance to prove his guilt or innocence?
The other thing that really bugs me is that he sets himself up as some kind of judge.
And I liked the essay that was linked to where they contrasted Sloan and Gollum.
Klutor the Ninth on 15 February 2011, 12:16 said:
Brilliant analogy.
The basic thing here being that “character actions speak louder than author-words”.
I second that.
Agreed. Take PotC, for example. Captain Jack is arrested, Elizabeth goes “but he saved my life!”
And the following happens:
Gov. Swan: “One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness,”
Capt. Jack: (mumbling) “But it seems enough to condemn him,”
Bit of an opposite situation, but I think you get my point.
Awesome essay, Rorschach.
I eagerly await your next one.:)
The Cat on 15 February 2011, 18:20 said:
This was awesome!
It really gives perspective on the characters in Alagaesia, and how villains are never defined. It’s good to have some redeeming qualities in villains, it’s not good to have them have so many they become heroes.
And Eragon has not done a single thing more heroic than any Varden foot-soldier. He’s just fighting the Empire with a dragon and magic. If everyone in the Varden had dragons and magic, then Eragon would not be considered a Hero. And that’s a fail; Paolini’s heroes are defined by their accessories, not by their actions, beliefs, or quality traits.
Juniper on 16 February 2011, 22:19 said:
Dear The Cat,
I disagree with your statement about Eragon not doing “a single thing more heroic than any Varden foot-soldier.”
That statement is soooo false. He totally did. He strangled a Varden foot-soldier with his bare hands! Why isn’t that enough for you? I mean, what does he have to do to prove himself? Put a curse a little girl?
Sincerely,
Juniper ;)
This article made me mad at Paolini all over again. Very well thought out. Thanks for posting! (More?)
Deborah on 17 February 2011, 17:51 said:
He didn’t kill a Varden soldier, he killed one of the Empire’s soldiers.
But I agree that there is more to Sloan than CP seems to see. That is the thing about characters who are jerks. They have their own reasons for doing things. They may not be good reasons, or they may do the wrong things, but I think it is more interesting than the Generic Jerk tm, For All Your Minor Villain Needs.
Juniper on 17 February 2011, 19:03 said:
Oops, my bad! (But now that I think about it…Empire, Varden. What’s the difference?)
My regard for Katrina has dropped since reading this article. I mean, it’s one thing to be a rebellious teenage daughter who’s going to date a boy despite her dad’s injunction, but for Katrina to actually be complicit with Roran’s outright disrespect to her dad is quite another.
Not to mention, what kind of daughter would believe Eragon’s report about finding her dad dead without even wanting some proof or evidence? Heck, I’d want to see a body! Is she that unattached to her dad that she requires no closure at all? Does she ask questions at this part of the book or does she just go along with it because her big, tough boyfriend tells her to?
She’s such a weak character. If I were her I’d punch Roran, slap Eragon and go save my dad myself.
RandomX2 on 17 February 2011, 19:15 said:
In Katrina’s defense, she was imprisoned (tortured?) for weeks, and she had no idea that Eragon was a Rider. Seeing him would probably be a bit of a shock, so command of the situation is shifted away from her. It’s unlikely that anyone would reasonably start questioning their rescuers, especially when they know nothing about them.
lol
Asahel on 17 February 2011, 21:37 said:
At the absolute least, I would’ve insisted that Eragon bring the body with us for proper burial. I imagine Eragon’s expression at that point would’ve quickly resembled a deer ogling an oncoming Dodge Ram. Your move, Mr. Liar. Your move.
ZeeZee on 17 February 2011, 22:15 said:
It’s unlikely that she would ask Eragon, but what about Roran? I’m sure she would feel comfortable enough around him to ask to see her father.
Although, Sloan and the bird-demons did kidnap her. She might be harboring bad feelings against him. Plus, Roran would probably refuse anyway. He doesn’t care about Sloan.
urmom on 27 February 2011, 00:28 said:
hmmm in my opinion i think that u suck big dicks. i swear to god, u have no life. go write ur own damn book and stop criticizing other people’s books. stupid whore.!
moondevourer on 27 February 2011, 13:59 said:
@urmom
You mad? You mad. Now get back in the kitchen.
Rorschach on 27 February 2011, 14:06 said:
Obvious troll is obvious.
Curly on 25 March 2011, 23:35 said:
Heck, at first the fact that the comment said it was long and not that funny deterred me, but today I realised Rorschach wrote this and thought I’d have a look. I am one of those readers who probably just trusts the narrator to know what the hell they’re talking about, Now I’m going to try and read differently. Excellent logic good sir, well done. And nice Snape analogy too, by the way.
Costanza on 26 March 2011, 20:36 said:
This is a very good article. Poor Sloan.
But I suppose I can’t really feel bad for him, because his relationship with his daughter is so unrealistic that it’s absurd.
I mean, really Katrina? Your own father has his eyes pecked out, is almost dead, he can never see you again, and you don’t give a shit because your boyfriend Roran is your life now?
Inheritance has become Twilight.
burningplain on 5 June 2011, 15:55 said:
An interesting perspective and a fair one.
However I’ll start by answering the realism problem on Katrina’s relationship with her father, Sloan. Katrina believes her father to be dead, killed by the Ra’Zaac.
Also on the Inheritance becoming twilight… no. Just no. Despite his foibles and sometimes contradictory, erratic writing style CP has yet to sink to the levels of Twilight.
Now to deal with Eragon. I’m thinking the boy is on a serious power trip. Admittedly factoring in the death of his mentor, the cripple who is whole, and the discovery that he is Brom’s son we can allow the boy some erratic behaviour, however his sentencing of Sloan is both draconian and out of all proportion to his presumed/actual crimes (I’m not making a presumption of either guilt or innocence here).
Now to Sloan’s actions. The fact that he loves his daughter is by no means justification of his actions. The choice to marry Roran was Katrina’s as was the decision to flee into the Spine with Roran and the rest of the village. The counter argument I pose to the statement that the Ra’Zaac are only there for Roran is that at the point where Sloan probably betrays the village is factually inaccurate. At this point the village is ready to flee to the Spine and has taken up arms against the Empire, which under the rule of Galbotorix means certain death or slavery. So Sloan’s betrayal condemns the village.
As to Galbotorix’s right to rule, well there we can really have an argument. Galbotorix rose to power by starting a war and murdering 100s if not thousands of people. He has made war on Elves and dwarves, the latter with very little justification. In fact it is stated later by a number of dwarves that they have been forced to live underground by the actions of Galbotorix.
Also Galbotorix allowed a rampaging horde of Urgals to destroy an indefined number of villages with in the empire.
Now to the actions or Roran. Roran does make a number of bad errors of judgement and is not particularly apologetic for them, something which I resent slightly.
And now for the thing about arguing with trying to calmly persuade Sloan to go into the Spine. From experience it is extremely unlikely to work. A phobia as great and irrational as Sloan’s will not be swayed by calm rational argument, no matter which arguments you use. It would take a trained psychologist months to deal with it. Roran’s response is not the correct one. However the response you offered is impractical.
nexfalx on 1 December 2011, 03:34 said:
^ this oh so much.
happycamper on 20 May 2012, 13:56 said:
I enjoyed this article. But one of the things i enjoyed about these books is the cimplexity of the characters. Roran and Earagon are meant to be heros, but they have a pre-existing bias twords Sloan from childhood theat makes it diffucult for them to see him as innocent or a good person. Likewise, Sloan may have only acted in love, but was always kind of a jerk.
danielle on 20 May 2012, 15:54 said:
@happycamper, I would agree with you if the books gave any indication that what Eragon did to Sloan was wrong. As it was, the narrative sided with Eragon. The text didn’t condemn him at all; rather, it seemed to say that Sloan deserved what Eragon gave him. When even the narrator sides with the hero’s cruelty, all complexity goes out the window.
Kiaralupin on 2 August 2013, 10:25 said:
Does anyone have any ideas as to Sloans muttering about the rope and his wife. When reading it I somehow get the feeling that poor Sloan might have unintentionally contributed to his wife’s fall. Maybe by taking some of the rope or by saving by buying weak rope it had somehow contributed to his wife falling to her death.
This explains he’s possessive love for Katrina as well as some of the ways he acts I think.
I am really curious however as to why he hate Erafons family so much
Chronic Chronicler on 23 January 2014, 19:10 said:
Bravo sir. Just simply bravo. You put the case for Sloan, a character I felt hard done by Paolini, most excellently.
Morgoth Bauglir on 3 June 2014, 17:46 said:
I’ve read plenty of other critics regarding this topic and so far everybody bluntly defends Sloan’s innocence which must buttfuck Paolini. Also, does anybody notice that secondary characters in Eragonland are more interesting and come close to being 2-dimensional contrary to the main characters who are plainly made of paper?
Ziggy on 3 June 2014, 21:47 said:
I think it’s because the secondary characters get less attention from the narrative and allow readers to embroider their storylines and add details that aren’t necessarily discussed directly in the text. This reflects more on the reader’s insight and empathy rather than any information
A lot of information about Sloan’s emotional life comes from logical inferences that we make from what material is present, we don’t necessarily get his own internal narrative the way you get Eragon’s. I’m sure if Paolini had done a Sloan POV it would have completely contradicted this essay and reduced Sloan to a one dimensional character.
lastcerebrate on 22 March 2016, 19:54 said:
I would have to agree with burningplain. The actions of Galbatorix make him evil, and certainly casts doubt on the morality of anyone serving the empire. Just because Eragon turns into a sociopath doesn’t mean the empire is good. I also have to wonder at Eragon learning Sloan’s true name. Just how many words would you need to sum up a person’s entire being? Maybe a bit highbrow, but I find the process of finding a true name interesting. Did it take years of effort to get the name of just rock? Once you’ve discovered one true name are the names of related things easier to find? Not to mention the type of power a person would have over someone.Power that Paolini doesn’t seem to want to explore in depth. Interesting facets of such a system, does anyone here know of any books that go into the workings of the true language? Not just in Inheritance. In summery neither side is all that great morality wise.