It's a common movie series cliche in the fantasy/sci fi world that each successive installment gets "darker". Donaldson's first four books do follow that trend, but it was almost pitch black to begin with. The fifth, this traumatising experience, plunges into a veritable black hole. More accurately put, The One Tree doesn't just get "darker", it continues the tendency of the the series to distance itself more and more from worldy affairs and delve deeper and deeper into the hearts and minds of its two heroes/victims, Convenant and Linden, and the inner workings of those two painstakingly sculpted characters is not a pleasant place to be.
It makes for very uncomfortable reading. Essentially, with Convenant out cold, out of his mind, in various ways during the novel, the One Tree is a switch in focus to Linden and her struggles with, among other things, her desire for power (to heal/to survive/to lash out) articulating her past and her guilt, the balance between peacefully passivity and violent action, and her painful love/need for Convenant. Those things are all linked - he has power and she can claim power over him, to love him she must open up her past to him, to save him she must risk exposing herself to power, to not take action risks hurting others. Donaldson doesn't let up. The tension in this book, the nervewracking deliberations and constant need for sacrifice and admittance of guilt exhaust you even before the explosive hopelessness of the heavily prophesised climax on the isle of the One Tree.
The plot takes a Odessey-like form, a voyage into unknown lands, battling storms, sea creatures and sirens, finding mysterious islands with mysterious inhabitants whose intentions are so indecipherable that at times it feels like Convenant himself doesn't know who's on whose side. The previous books venom again provides a lot of the dramatic moments, Foul's insidious way of tapping into Convenant's innate power and tempting it into use. The first major event is on the fairy island of the Elohim, the second of the balantly Eastern tinged sultanate of Bhrathairealm - both are lengthy, taking up most of the book, are full of character development and plenty of action told in Donaldson's usual flamboyant, slightly surreal way, but in the grand scheme of things seem a little forced and irrelevant. Like its predecessor, The One Tree occasionally suffers from being a little too placed on a knife edge, too permanantly near to disaster.
It all serves as a huge, action-packed lead up to the two major climaxes of the novel - Linden and Convenant's love and the discovery of the One Tree. The main protagonists love is fiercely linked to Linden's telling of her past traumas and Donaldon's really turns off the lights for those revelations, scenes of grusome depression and gore that Lovecraft or King would be proud of. Through all this patient build up of dark emotion, the eventual love scene is incredibly powerful, not romantic at all, more a collapsing into each other, an intense expression of need and dependence. Combined with Linden's final, conflagratrive decision at the book's climax, Donaldson succeeds in creating one of the most believable, plot-necessary, tragic loves in the fantasy genre.
The final arrival at the One Tree has its moments but it is clear Donaldson has gone beyond the physical and concrete and into something cosmic and meta - the whole of creation is called into question, hope is shattered and pieced back together, Convenant's identity and existance are taken to the brink and barely pulled away in time, all the patiently built up plot tension, all his noble ideas, come crashing down leaving a huge void in the space entitled "what happens next?". Donaldson, it feels, has abandoned the beauty and the reality of his Land in order to tear apart the psych of his beaten anti-hero and leave him bare. The question now seems to be, how much more can he take? One of the most emotionally draining and disturbing fantasy novels out there, one that leaves you less than content but still totally engaged. 6