The Four Profound Weaves

R. B. Lembergs first foray into long-form fiction has left me breathless. The Four Profound Weaves is a love ballad sung straight into the hearts of those who most need to hear it. I was instantly captivated by the poetic, lyrical prose and drawn in with dreams of sandbirds. Its the queer, Middle-Eastern fairy tale weve been waiting for.

The story is told via the voices of two trans main characters whose fates are entwined with one another. They are old their joints ache, and their bodies are beginning to fail them with so many years weighing down on their bones. Uiziya made her transformation when she was very young, as is the way of her people. She has always been loved and accepted for who she is, and her carpet of transformation was woven by her friends and family for her when she needed it. The nameless man, nen-sasair, son of sandbirds, had a very different experience. In his culture, hes still viewed as a particularly rebellious woman who is interested in manly pursuits. His people, the Khana, view him as a particularly old tomboy and reject his chosen identity.

“It was here, at this very place, in this dust, on the outskirts of the snake-Surun encampment, I had stood in my cloth made of winds, the weave of transformation my friends and my grandchildren had woven for me out of love. Id lifted my arms to the sky and the sandbirds had come to me, sent to me by the goddess Bird and summoned by the cloth of winds. They were birds of bright fire that fell from the sky and cocooned me, until I could see and hear nothing except the warmth and the feathers enveloping me and the threads of the wind singing each to each until my whole skin was ignited by the sun, my body changing and changed by the malleable flame. And when it was done, I sang. I sang as the wind and the feathers dissolved into sand under my feet; I sang because my transformation was complete. I sang the dawnsongthe sacred melody that the men of my people sing, standing on the roof of the mens quarter every morning.”

Change and transformation are consistent themes throughout the novella. The weaves themselves represent it one thing may be worked and woven into a new form, but at the price of losing its previous form forever. Uiziyas people, the snake-Surun, know this well. They are traders, creating beautiful weaves of sand and wind. When they trade their weaves, they understand that this is not something that can be undone. Each weave has their heart and soul poured into it, but to keep it would be to stagnate much as Uiziya has done.

Uiziya knew from a young age that she wished to follow in the footsteps of her aunt, Benesret. Benesret, however, was exiled from the snake-Surun for her crimes against their people. She has waited and waited for forty years for Benesret to return and seek her out, to teach her the last two of the Four Profound Weaves. She waits and waits to no avail. She stagnates, unchanging and lifeless. Benesret does not return. She, too, has stagnated in her own way.

It is not until nen-sasair and Uiziya seek out Benesret by their own volition that they come closer to understanding the final two Profound Weaves. When they reach her in the high desert, they find that she has woven her own encampment of death. By devouring the souls of those who come to her, she steals their essence and weaves their bones into her own designs. Uiziya begs her to teach her again, to teach her to weave from Hope and Bone. Benesret makes her a deal: she will teach her, but only if she gives herself to her aunt. Uiziya agrees, and Benesrets diamondflies begin to devour the threads of her body. Her body begins to disintegrate, bit by bit, until nen-sasair negotiates to save her life in a desperate plea: he will go and retrieve Benesrets great weave, a carpet of Hope, from the Collector.

The Collector holds the Khana in a vicious grasp. He rejects change and seeks to freeze both himself and his collection as they are in the moment. The journey Uiziya and nen-sasair must undertake to liberate the carpet of Hope from his clutches is harrowing, and it will change both of them irrevocably. They must face the changes theyve denied within themselves and accept who they were, who they are, and who they will be. Until they can do that, there is no path for them to move forward. Moving forward is only possible through change.

Change is the worlds greatest danger. Around the world you and others, old woman, chafe at my rule, forever desiring a change, yet change destroys all. If not for that power of change, we would not need to die. But you people do not understand. You rebel, you wander from place to place, you chafe at my rule, thinking that something else, somewhere else, would be better. It isnt. But I save you. I am the one who is centered and stable, anchoring the whole world from my rainbow-tiered court, unmoved by worlds wildness, contained in my birdcage throne. The best of the world comes to me, and I save it from change and I save it from you, who know only dirt even as you make treasure. The treasure is only safe in my palace. Separated from your stench and squalor, forever locked in my coffers. Are you satisfied?

This tale is told with some of the most beautiful, evocative prose Ive encountered. It creates an underlying, rhythmic fugue beneath the story, allowing the sense that there is an additional, meta layer to the novella. RB Lemberg weaves words into a thick, luxurious tapestry even as the characters it depicts weave sand, wind, hope, and death. The goddess Bird perches atop the fabric, lending it a sense of gravitas and purpose, even as her brother Kimri lurks in the shadows.

Truly, its not just accepting change that matters. Its also about listening to those around you. Its about voices being heard and woven into the fabric of your own, personal worldview. In order to master the last of the weaves, its not death that Uiziya must master. Rather, its the ability to listen and amplify voices that have been silenced. In listening, she can help them change into something new.

“I shifted, relieving the pain of sitting too still. I was not done listening to bones, but my listening acquired a lilt, a shape, a feel. I needed to make a loom from my sisters, and I needed a yarn made of them. I needed to give them a shape which the goddess Bird could not give, for she came to look for these souls and was thwarted, and then she sent mortal birds to find out what went amiss, and they all died here as well.”

This was my first introduction to RB Lembergs Birdverse stories, and it served very well in this regard. Ive left this novella hungry for more, and I fully intend to read their short fiction over the next few weeks. Their world is beautifully realized. I could feel the edges of their short stories peeking out beneath the narrative of The Four Profound Weaves never so much that it distracted, but just enough to pique my curiosity.

Many novellas feel like a novel that has been scrunched and shaved and warped to fit into a smaller format. The Four Profound Weaves has not had this treatment. It feels whole it is one singular piece of cloth. It is not a patchwork. It is not shoehorned into a short format. It is a myth that was embroidered into an existing weave. It is beautiful, delicate, and ephemeral. I can genuinely say that I will be talking about this book for a long time to come. I loved it.

This book was disappointing. It has a neat idea and a unique world with a magic system I’d love to understand, but there were just so many issues with this book.

The two characters the book follows are almost completely interchangeable. You could not tell who was speaking without being told because they have exactly the same voice.

The magic system, and most things in the world, are left unexplained and it’s confusing. There is little to no indication of what might be possible for a character to do.

It reads like a draft of the book, with typos, and oddly inconsistent formatting. The font size randomly changes. There are dashes thrown in mid word for seemingly no reason.

It’s was a very disappointing experience because it’s a queer story by a queer author, and that’s really what I want to read. Sadly, I could not recommend this book to anyone.

R.B. Lembergs novella The Four Profound Weaves is a lyrical and gripping journey that begins in a sunlit desert full of sand and bones, continues into a city haunted by memories and ghosts, and eventually takes the reader into the the light-less depths beneath the earth.

Its a story that delves deep into themes like resistance, courage, and endurance. With both gentleness and sharp precision, Lemberg explores the importance of our connections to the world around us and to other people, and how powerful those connections can be in shaping us and our lives. One of the things I love about this novella, is how it emphasizes that change is a vital part of life: both in the sense that we can change ourselves, and in the sense that the world, and the passage of time, will inexorably change us, too.

I have been excited about The Four Profound Weaves for a long time, and it extremely did not disappoint. It has this beautiful lyrical prose that seems to shift across the sands of the desert with the characters, seamlessly wrapping its way around both death and hope.

It’s a story of a deep friendship between trans elders, and it captures aspects of trans experience rarely explored in fiction in a nuanced and sensitive manner without becoming overly abstract. It’s a story about time, about the long expanses of time spent waiting or making a decision, a story that both grieves time lost but affirms late is not too late. There are complex explorations, too, of being loved but not accepted; and the acknowledgement that some wrongs simply cannot be righted felt every bit as affirming as it did disappointing.

I also loved: bird bones, deepnames, and the appearance of one of my favourite Birdverse characters, Kimi. The illustrations are simple but gorgeous. I feel I will have even more to say on a second or a third read, but this is what I have for now.

I will add that while The Four Profound Weaves does genuinely stand alone, reading Grandmother-nai-Leylits Cloth of Winds (Beneath Ceaseless Skies, 2015) either before or after does add an extra layer to this work. And you should read all Lembergs Birdverse work because its wonderful.

The Four Profound Weaves is beautiful, it is important, and its also an immersive and magical read.

[Disclaimer: I know the author but this review is from the heart. I bought this book with my own money and no review has been requested or expected of me.]

Two older trans people embark on a journey that involves death, love, and hope.

I didn’t know what to expect when I picked this book up, but I knew it would resonate with me on a very personal level, and boy was I right. As a trans person and, occasionally, a weaver, my connection to this story is pretty obvious. But TFPW explores emotional depths that left me in tears by the end.

Something about the writing feels intimate, like your own heart is writing it even as you read. It’s heartbreaking and joyful and poetic. I am so happy it exists.

Galaxyaudiobook Member Benefit

- Able to comment

- List watched audiobooks

- List favorite audiobooks

- Bookmark will only available for Galaxyaudiobook member