The Emperor's Soul: on art and understanding

Thoughts on The Emperor's Soul by Brandon Sanderson - MODERATE SPOILERS

Rye Youbs

Aug 21, 2024

Spoiler warning for The Emperor’s Soul by Brandon Sanderson

On a scale between mild, moderate, and major, this entry contains moderate spoilers. That includes:

An introduction to the protagonist and the magic system;
The complete arc of the second main character;
A glimpse of the ending (but not a full reveal).

I haven’t written about what the protagonist does in the main plot: at most, I hint at it.

There is something deeply satisfying in symmetry—in a circle perfectly closing, reconnecting itself to where it started.

The Emperor’s Soul by Brandon Sanderson1 scratches exactly that itch of mine. It’s a novella (pretty short in comparison to Brandon’s usual work) that includes a compelling story from the first chapter, interesting characters, and some fascinating questions.

And its beginning and end beautifully start and conclude the journey of the second main character of the story.

The setting

The protagonist of the story is Shai, a masterful Forger. Following the traditional meaning of the word, she is a skilled artist—specifically, a painter—who can imitate with great accuracy other’s work. But that doesn’t encompass all of her abilities: in this world, Forgery is a craft that allows people to rewrite the history of an object. By creating and applying “soulstamps”, Shai can manipulate an object by tweaking its past and transforming it into another version of itself.

Let’s say, for example, that you have a table. It’s an old table, full of splinters and scratches, its color gone dull with time.

In this world, if you are a skillful Forger, you could create a soulstamp to rewrite its past, “so that it was maintained, rather than allowed to sink into disrepair.”2 You apply the soulstamp and, if you guessed the table’s past correctly and conceived a realistic alternative version of it, you’ll find yourself with a new shining table. If you’re Shai, the table will have some beautiful and unnecessary carvings, inlaid here and there with silver—because why not. Wouldn’t the table want to be a prettier version of itself, if it could?

It’s a fascinating magic system, that poses fascinating questions. Is creating a different version of an object a form of art? Is manipulating its past a form of creation?

Or is it just an illusion? A lie, a manipulation?

These are the questions that gnaw at another character, the one I actually want to write about. Because Shai is a great protagonist, but the story doesn’t start with her. It starts with Gaotona, one of her captors.

I must understand

Gaotona is an important figure in the court of the empire. The Grands, the people who lead the empire, despise Shai’s ability, seeing it as an abomination. Gaotona is wary of it, too.

But, even more than that, he is puzzled by her.

In the prologue, we’re in this old man’s POV, observing him as he observes one of Shai’s works—a traditional forgery. A painting, recreated with insane precision. He studies it, unsettled.

Gaotona ran his fingers across the thick canvas, inspecting one of the greatest works of art he had ever seen. Unfortunately, it was a lie.
[…]
Why? Gaotona thought again. Why would someone capable of this artistry, this majesty, turn to forgery? Why not create original paintings? Why not be a true artist?
I must understand.

Sanderson, Brandon. The Emperor's Soul (Elantris Book 2) (English Edition) (S.1-2). Dragonsteel, LLC. Kindle-Version.

On one side, Gaotona can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that Shai doesn’t use her ability to create “true” art—original art. But that’s not all. We already know the magic system at play and what Shai can do with it, which begs another question.

The woman they spoke of, Wan ShaiLu, was more than a simple con artist. So much more. She could change the nature of reality itself. That raised another question. Why would she bother learning to paint? Wasn’t ordinary art mundane compared to her mystical talents?

Sanderson, Brandon. The Emperor's Soul (Elantris Book 2) (English Edition) (S.2). Dragonsteel, LLC. Kindle-Version.

The other arbiters, the most important bureaucrats of the empire, dismiss Shai’s skill as blasphemous. Gaotona has his reserves too, but instead of keeping his distance by ignoring his questions, he leans into them—he realizes that he doesn’t simply “want” to understand: he “must”.

The journey

After the prologue, we leave Gaotona’s POV and settle into Shai’s instead. It’s a necessary switch because Shai is the main character after all—but the interesting consequence of this change is that we get to see Gaotona through the eyes of another person.

For reasons I’m not going to get into, the two need to collaborate. It’s rather fun to see them interact with one another.

“I meant no offense, Captain,” Gaotona said. “I have great confidence in your people, but what we have before us is a master trickster, liar, and thief. Your best guards would eventually become clay in her hands.”
“Thank you,” Shai said.
“It was not a compliment. […]”

Sanderson, Brandon. The Emperor's Soul (Elantris Book 2) (English Edition) (S.20). Dragonsteel, LLC. Kindle-Version.

But there is something about Gaotona that manages to press the buttons of the otherwise cool and collected Shai.

“I value truth, young woman. Not Forgery.” He regarded her with the expression of a disappointed grandfather. “I have seen the work of your hands. That copied painting you did . . . it was remarkable. Yet it was accomplished in the name of lies. What great works could you create if you focused on industry and beauty instead of wealth and deception?”
“What I do is great art.”
“No. You copy other people’s great art. What you do is technically marvelous, yet completely lacking in spirit.”

Sanderson, Brandon. The Emperor's Soul (Elantris Book 2) (English Edition) (S.23). Dragonsteel, LLC. Kindle-Version.

The image of a disappointed grandfather is most fitting for Gaotona. In many moments of the story, he gives off these wisps of judgment, saying without using words (well, he’s a pretty direct guy, so often also with words) that Shai could do so much better if she just used her skills the right way.

It’s all very grating until you realize that, despite judging Shai so harshly, he also keeps on coming to check on her. He asks her questions about her craft—he doesn’t know a lot about Forgery, but he knows much more than what the other arbiters do. And he’s open to learning.

All the while, Gaotona visited. The ancient arbiter studied her as she read, watching with those eyes that judged . . . but also did not hate.

Sanderson, Brandon. The Emperor's Soul (Elantris Book 2) (English Edition) (S.27-28). Dragonsteel, LLC. Kindle-Version.

Full circle

What makes art life-full, in opposition to life-less? What is art?

Gaotona observes and judges, but keeps himself open to understanding. He already had an inkling—the doubt, that what Shai is doing is more than “simple” imitation. Is it art, though?

The story takes its course and we reach the end of the book. There, in the epilogue, after having spent most of our time in Shai’s head, we are again seeing the world through Gaotona.

The circle closes, beautifully so. In Gaotona’s mind, it finally clicks—he gets his answer. I don’t want to reveal the fullness of it, but here is a little glimpse:

He found himself weeping.
[…] True art was more than beauty; it was more than technique. It was not just imitation. It was boldness, it was contrast, it was subtlety.

Sanderson, Brandon. The Emperor's Soul (Elantris Book 2) (English Edition) (S.129). Dragonsteel, LLC. Kindle-Version.

Gaotona finally understands, but it isn’t a passive act. He had to work to reach this realization.

It makes me think. Often, when I get frustrated by something or when someone does something that makes no sense to me, my first instinct is to distance myself. I’d rather keep on judging and protecting my perspective of the world instead of challenging it. Maybe I say, “I don’t understand,” but the intention of understanding isn’t really there anyway.

Gaotona reacted differently: he realized that he didn’t understand, and he concluded that he must understand. Sure, he kept on judging Shai, but, instead of dismissing her, he sought answers—even if the process of doing so unsettled him.

I love how much this story inspires me to reflect. I love the questions it asks and the resolution that it gives. Gaotona’s journey is one of my favorite character arcs.

Funny to think that we nearly didn’t get it the way it is now.

Plot twist—the original prologue

Worry not, this is not a reference to a plot twist in the book. It’s more of a plot twist about the making of the book.

I’ve talked about the prologue already, the one in which Gaotona observes Shai’s painting and comes to the conclusion that “he must understand”. Turns out, that wasn’t the original prologue. I was shocked to learn that the original one was completely different: it was a conversation between Shai and a third character, who never shows up in this book again.

Brandon Sanderson himself talks about it in an episode of Writing Excuses3: his writer friend Mary Robinette Kowal4, who is one of the podcast’s hosts, is the person who suggested he revise it.

Brandon — […] Mary read the story, and she came to me almost sorry and regretful because she knew this was going to be painful. She said, “I really think you need to cut the prologue.” And I said, “But the prologue is—b-b-b-but—!” And she said, “Yeah, but you could replace it with this.”
She pitched the opening Gaotona scene and said, “Look, your story is poetic. It has symmetry. You should begin and end with Gaotona. Also, his ending kind of feels like it comes out of nowhere because we haven’t had many viewpoints from him, if any. So it lacks power. If we’d started with him, that would foreshadow his ending.”
She was right. She was right.

Sanderson, Brandon. The Emperor's Soul (Elantris Book 2) (English Edition) (S.137). Dragonsteel, LLC. Kindle-Version. Transcript provided by Mike Barker.

At first, I was somewhat disappointed. The story was so great the way it started and it closed, that I was convinced it must have been thought out like this from the very beginning.

Turns out that it wasn’t. The story was manipulated instead, changed through editing—it wasn’t born as a perfect circle, it was made into one. Somehow, for a moment, that made it feel less meaningful. I wanted to think that Brandon Sanderson had written the story with Gaotona’s arc perfectly planned out from the prologue on.

But I realize now, that this is the reality of writing. You’ll start with a great idea, but some arcs and themes will reveal themselves only while you write. And, sometimes, only after you have written. Thinking about it, it’s a relief! I don’t need to have a perfect story planned out in my mind with beautiful symmetry already thought out—I can make a story beautiful by tinkering with it, recognizing the interesting questions that it asks once I’ve written its draft.

A story doesn’t have to be born great—it can be made into such.

I hope you enjoyed these reflections of mine. I highly recommend the book—it’s great. And it’s a novella, so a pretty quick read too.

If you’ve read The Emperor’s Soul already, how did you find it? Write in the comments, or if you want to talk about spoilers, answer this email—or write me at ryeyoubs@gmail.com.

I’d love to hear from you :)

Take care,