Post by lynn on Jun 4, 2020 10:56:44 GMT
My OP examines how weirwoods experience time or more specifically how the experience of time changes when a greenseer is wed to a weirwood tree. This is not a thread about time travelling Bran or the sci-fi trope of timelords.
I will start with Brynden Rivers explaining the concept of time to Bran after he is wed to the tree:
Bran has just experienced skinchanging the tree by going into it's roots. He joins the Winterfell weirwood and sees the memories of past greenseers stored in the tree reaching far into the past. This is not time travel, this is accessing the memory bank.
Then BR talks about time being different for a tree than a man. For men time is like a river only flowing in one direction from past to present. In other, words from moment to moment into the future. For the tree (meaning one who becomes the tree); the river does not move them. The river is stopped and the past, present and future become one. The greenseer can move in any direction on the river. The oak is the acorn, moving from the future to the past and the acorn is the oak, moving from the past to the future.
Any actions taken can be seen as a stone dropped in the water creating ripples or echoes in time.
Martin only gives us one example of the way greenseers experience time. Starting with the Skirling Pass when Jon meets Tree-Bran:
This is an extraordinary exchange. Jon is wolf dreaming and encounters Bran as the tree, growing before his eyes (the acorn is the oak). What is surprising is that Bran is still hiding in the crypts and hasn't crossed the Wall or been wed to the tree at this point. Bran is also wolf dreaming. Which brings to mind Martin's small but important plot point that the Wall cannot be breached by wargs and skinchangers while they are inside their familiar.
Jon experiences this encounter as first talking to Bran then being touched by the tree (activating Jon's 3rd eye).
In the crypts of Winterfell, Bran is dreaming of this encounter (ripples and echoes in time) and experiences the encounter in reverse order (the oak is the acorn). He touches Ghost and talks to Jon:
Bran has only just mastered the 3rd eye so he receives and echo of himself in the future. He's not even sure about his dream and Jon. This is a very different version of Bran that we see at the Skirling Pass. This version of Bran is not bound by time and place. That's represented by the sapling growing before Jon's eyes.
Before all of this can happen, before he can come into his powers; Bran has to take the next step:
Bran's powers are not awakened when he masters his 3rd eye in the crypts. That is only the beginning.
Bran does cross paths with Jon in a sense after the wildlings cross the Wall. So Jon is long gone from the Skirling Pass by the time Bran reaches the Cave of Skulls. Bran doesn't even think of teaching his siblings to 'fly' until well into the future.
I will start with Brynden Rivers explaining the concept of time to Bran after he is wed to the tree:
A Dance with Dragons - Bran III
"You saw what you wished to see. Your heart yearns for your father and your home, so that is what you saw."
"A man must know how to look before he can hope to see," said Lord Brynden. "Those were shadows of days past that you saw, Bran. You were looking through the eyes of the heart tree in your godswood. Time is different for a tree than for a man. Sun and soil and water, these are the things a weirwood understands, not days and years and centuries.
. And the weirwood … a thousand human years are a moment to a weirwood, and through such gates you and I may gaze into the past."
"You saw what you wished to see. Your heart yearns for your father and your home, so that is what you saw."
"A man must know how to look before he can hope to see," said Lord Brynden. "Those were shadows of days past that you saw, Bran. You were looking through the eyes of the heart tree in your godswood. Time is different for a tree than for a man. Sun and soil and water, these are the things a weirwood understands, not days and years and centuries.
For men, time is a river. We are trapped in its flow, hurtling from past to present, always in the same direction. The lives of trees are different. They root and grow and die in one place, and that river does not move them. The oak is the acorn, the acorn is the oak
. And the weirwood … a thousand human years are a moment to a weirwood, and through such gates you and I may gaze into the past."
Then BR talks about time being different for a tree than a man. For men time is like a river only flowing in one direction from past to present. In other, words from moment to moment into the future. For the tree (meaning one who becomes the tree); the river does not move them. The river is stopped and the past, present and future become one. The greenseer can move in any direction on the river. The oak is the acorn, moving from the future to the past and the acorn is the oak, moving from the past to the future.
Any actions taken can be seen as a stone dropped in the water creating ripples or echoes in time.
Martin only gives us one example of the way greenseers experience time. Starting with the Skirling Pass when Jon meets Tree-Bran:
A Clash of Kings - Jon VII
When he closed his eyes, he dreamed of direwolves.
There were five of them when there should have been six, and they were scattered, each apart from the others. He felt a deep ache of emptiness, a sense of incompleteness. The forest was vast and cold, and they were so small, so lost. His brothers were out there somewhere, and his sister, but he had lost their scent. He sat on his haunches and lifted his head to the darkening sky, and his cry echoed through the forest, a long lonely mournful sound. As it died away, he pricked up his ears, listening for an answer, but the only sound was the sigh of blowing snow.
Jon?
The call came from behind him, softer than a whisper, but strong too. Can a shout be silent? He turned his head, searching for his brother, for a glimpse of a lean grey shape moving beneath the trees, but there was nothing, only . . .
A weirwood.
It seemed to sprout from solid rock, its pale roots twisting up from a myriad of fissures and hairline cracks. The tree was slender compared to other weirwoods he had seen, no more than a sapling, yet it was growing as he watched, its limbs thickening as they reached for the sky. Wary, he circled the smooth white trunk until he came to the face. Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother's face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
Don't be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him.
When he closed his eyes, he dreamed of direwolves.
There were five of them when there should have been six, and they were scattered, each apart from the others. He felt a deep ache of emptiness, a sense of incompleteness. The forest was vast and cold, and they were so small, so lost. His brothers were out there somewhere, and his sister, but he had lost their scent. He sat on his haunches and lifted his head to the darkening sky, and his cry echoed through the forest, a long lonely mournful sound. As it died away, he pricked up his ears, listening for an answer, but the only sound was the sigh of blowing snow.
Jon?
The call came from behind him, softer than a whisper, but strong too. Can a shout be silent? He turned his head, searching for his brother, for a glimpse of a lean grey shape moving beneath the trees, but there was nothing, only . . .
A weirwood.
It seemed to sprout from solid rock, its pale roots twisting up from a myriad of fissures and hairline cracks. The tree was slender compared to other weirwoods he had seen, no more than a sapling, yet it was growing as he watched, its limbs thickening as they reached for the sky. Wary, he circled the smooth white trunk until he came to the face. Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother's face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
Don't be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him.
This is an extraordinary exchange. Jon is wolf dreaming and encounters Bran as the tree, growing before his eyes (the acorn is the oak). What is surprising is that Bran is still hiding in the crypts and hasn't crossed the Wall or been wed to the tree at this point. Bran is also wolf dreaming. Which brings to mind Martin's small but important plot point that the Wall cannot be breached by wargs and skinchangers while they are inside their familiar.
Jon experiences this encounter as first talking to Bran then being touched by the tree (activating Jon's 3rd eye).
In the crypts of Winterfell, Bran is dreaming of this encounter (ripples and echoes in time) and experiences the encounter in reverse order (the oak is the acorn). He touches Ghost and talks to Jon:
A Clash of Kings - Bran VII
"The wolf ate," Jojen said. "Not you. Take care, Bran. Remember who you are."
He remembered who he was all too well; Bran the boy, Bran the broken. Better Bran the beastling. Was it any wonder he would sooner dream his Summer dreams, his wolf dreams? Here in the chill damp darkness of the tomb his third eye had finally opened. He could reach Summer whenever he wanted, and
Though maybe he had only dreamed that. He could not understand why Jojen was always trying to pull him back now. Bran used the strength of his arms to squirm to a sitting position. "I have to tell Osha what I saw. Is she here? Where did she go?"
"The wolf ate," Jojen said. "Not you. Take care, Bran. Remember who you are."
He remembered who he was all too well; Bran the boy, Bran the broken. Better Bran the beastling. Was it any wonder he would sooner dream his Summer dreams, his wolf dreams? Here in the chill damp darkness of the tomb his third eye had finally opened. He could reach Summer whenever he wanted, and
once he had even touched Ghost and talked to Jon.
Though maybe he had only dreamed that. He could not understand why Jojen was always trying to pull him back now. Bran used the strength of his arms to squirm to a sitting position. "I have to tell Osha what I saw. Is she here? Where did she go?"
Bran has only just mastered the 3rd eye so he receives and echo of himself in the future. He's not even sure about his dream and Jon. This is a very different version of Bran that we see at the Skirling Pass. This version of Bran is not bound by time and place. That's represented by the sapling growing before Jon's eyes.
Before all of this can happen, before he can come into his powers; Bran has to take the next step:
A Dance with Dragons - Bran III
"For the next step. For you to go beyond skinchanging and learn what it means to be a greenseer."
"The trees will teach him," said Leaf. She beckoned, and another of the singers padded forward, the white-haired one that Meera had named Snowylocks. She had a weirwood bowl in her hands, carved with a dozen faces, like the ones the heart trees wore. Inside was a white paste, thick and heavy, with dark red veins running through it. "You must eat of this," said Leaf. She handed Bran a wooden spoon.
The boy looked at the bowl uncertainly. "What is it?"
"A paste of weirwood seeds."
Something about the look of it made Bran feel ill. The red veins were only weirwood sap, he supposed, but in the torchlight they looked remarkably like blood. He dipped the spoon into the paste, then hesitated. "Will this make me a greenseer?"
"Your blood makes you a greenseer," said Lord Brynden. "This will help awaken your gifts and wed you to the trees."
"For the next step. For you to go beyond skinchanging and learn what it means to be a greenseer."
"The trees will teach him," said Leaf. She beckoned, and another of the singers padded forward, the white-haired one that Meera had named Snowylocks. She had a weirwood bowl in her hands, carved with a dozen faces, like the ones the heart trees wore. Inside was a white paste, thick and heavy, with dark red veins running through it. "You must eat of this," said Leaf. She handed Bran a wooden spoon.
The boy looked at the bowl uncertainly. "What is it?"
"A paste of weirwood seeds."
Something about the look of it made Bran feel ill. The red veins were only weirwood sap, he supposed, but in the torchlight they looked remarkably like blood. He dipped the spoon into the paste, then hesitated. "Will this make me a greenseer?"
"Your blood makes you a greenseer," said Lord Brynden. "This will help awaken your gifts and wed you to the trees."
Bran does cross paths with Jon in a sense after the wildlings cross the Wall. So Jon is long gone from the Skirling Pass by the time Bran reaches the Cave of Skulls. Bran doesn't even think of teaching his siblings to 'fly' until well into the future.
A Dance with Dragons - Bran III
"All," Lord Brynden said. "It was the singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven … but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin."
Old Nan had told him the same story once, Bran remembered, but when he asked Robb if it was true, his brother laughed and asked him if he believed in grumkins too. He wished Robb were with them now. I'd tell him I could fly, but he wouldn't believe, so I'd have to show him. I bet that he could learn to fly too, him and Arya and Sansa, even baby Rickon and Jon Snow. We could all be ravens and live in Maester Luwin's rookery.
"All," Lord Brynden said. "It was the singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven … but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin."
Old Nan had told him the same story once, Bran remembered, but when he asked Robb if it was true, his brother laughed and asked him if he believed in grumkins too. He wished Robb were with them now. I'd tell him I could fly, but he wouldn't believe, so I'd have to show him. I bet that he could learn to fly too, him and Arya and Sansa, even baby Rickon and Jon Snow. We could all be ravens and live in Maester Luwin's rookery.