#’coriolanus is not a relatable protagonist’

[transsexualcoriolanus]

i love him

[liketwoswansinbalance]

In the modern publishing landscape, these days, I think like we do not have many (if any) point-of-view characters with low social motivation for whatever reason.

Sure, there are lots of characters with social anxiety or other perceived or legitimate foibles to overcome, there are many YA villain origin stories, and there are many unpalatable, traditionally "unlikable" men in classics, but disregarding those, who else do we have?

Can the state of openly being alone (and content) rarely be presented as morally-neutral or as the end result of a narrative? Must it always be that either being alone is the starting point, so there's room for "personal growth," or that being alone is seen as "undesirable" and/or an indication that the person alone has a "problem" or something otherwise wrong with them, like a deficit or moral failing that in some kind of karmic way gives them "what they deserve," which is being alone and discontent with it?

Characters with society anxiety, any differences in communication, or other reasons that interfere with forging connections "don't count" because they may still be motivated. Traits such as these only stand in the way of gaining relationships, as plot obstacles. They aren't intrinsically tied to indifference or to low motivation. So, these characters clearly are not experiencing a lack of interest. And they are not the ones rejecting others. Thus, they "don't count" as far as the archetype that I'm looking for goes.

Characters who undergo villain arcs or otherwise negative arcs may want to maintain their relationships or gain them, so some examples are immediately disqualified (hence not having low social motivation), even if they are the type of character most likely to alienate themselves by a story's end, conflicting with what they wanted.

(Unfortunately, Coriolanus Snow, who is quite close to the type of protagonist I'm searching for "doesn't count" because he has some drive to keep people in his life.

Rafal Mistral partially "counts," and is satisfying as a character, but also doesn't count because he temporarily makes "friends" or allies, depending on how you look at his exploits. Yet, despite all this, not having friends isn't exactly framed as a morally-neutral state either, so he is also disqualified by the end. Basically, he does have low social motivation, but his narrative lacks the conditions that would make the natural consequences of that low motivation play out for themselves. He is always surrounded by people, even if he hates every last one of them.

And, generally speaking, the usual, moody-broody, "misunderstood" YA love-interests very easily "don't count" because they have a desire to get closer to their object of affection.

Even Katniss Everdeen, an overall good person, who usually views herself as "unlikable," befriends others, originally for pragmatic, survival purposes. However, she does start with low social motivation, so that's something in her favor.

And yes, I'm aware that we need other people in this world—I would just like to see someone prove that supposed truth wrong once. And perhaps succeed in their world, if that's not too much to ask for.)

Also, are there any instances of characters who progressively alienate themselves from others, in which that progression is not inherently seen as negative? Like, what about non-corrupt misanthropes? Are there few of those in literature? (Maybe—Eleanor Oliphant from literary fiction counts, but something about that book did not appeal me and I didn't finish it.)

Classics guys sort of "count," but I haven't really seen examples of any comparable protagonists today since many authors and readers write and look for "relatability" in blank slate everyman figures oftentimes.

(I'm not done with Crime and Punishment yet, but Raskolnikov is very tentatively looking like a safe bet for a character who may end up alone and who may not be completely malcontent over such a fate, even if I'm expecting tragedy. I'm that not far along, but I also wouldn't mind it too greatly if he died, I suppose.

And even Sherlock Holmes has Watson as his constant, even if he's notoriously asocial! So he "doesn't count" either.

Carol from Main Street also comes close, but still ultimately desires approval from others.

Maybe no one is truly immune to humanity and I should give up on this notion?)

How many pov characters out there are 1) apathetic toward the masses and 2a) either alienate themselves as the plot progresses or 2b) do not make any friends? (I will allow them making friends and consequently losing them though because that still ends in net zero!)

Indeed, this "gap" in protagonists I've been running into lately, especially with coming-of-age arcs and protagonists whose arc is some form of "getting out of their shell," is: why do we (almost?) never see protagonists who just flat-out don't progress in terms of connecting with fellow humans?

Wouldn't having even a handful of those types be reflective of reality? (We as a society are more disconnected than ever, to be fair, despite constantly having access to one another via technology.)

Or I would completely understand it, if it were narratively impractical to have a plot in which a protagonist makes zero friends. Maybe, it's a near-unwritable form for a story?

So, my question is: does anyone have book recommendations, which present a character whose end goal is not to make friends or forge connections (any other ambitions or motivations are fine) and whose state of being friendless both lasts and is regarded as morally-neutral or as not outright evil? Any genre is fine. High fantasy is preferable. I am stumped.

(I also wouldn't mind recommendations of books in which the protagonist is vilified due to being alone, even if that is not my primary query here.)

[forthegothicheroine]

Shakespeare's Roman plays (classical plays, if you prefer) are interesting because they're a lot more morally ambiguous than the histories (which tend to involve characters either related to the Tudors/Stuarts or their enemies.) For the most part, none of the main characters in Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra or Coriolanus are supposed to be right or wrong, just different shades of grey, people who want different things that put them at odds with others. Cleopatra is flighty in her moods but honest in her love; Octavian is ruthlessly competent but no fun whatsoever; Brutus is idealistic but I sure would hate to have him as a friend; Coriolanus is great at what he does but god help you if you're not one of the two or three people he cares about. In a way, this makes the plays feel very modern.

(I don't tend to consider Titus Andronicus as one of the Roman plays in the same way, since it's not based on anyone real or mythological, but it does give its villainess- who is incredibly cruel- probably the best motivation of all his bad guys., and its protagonist is no less cruel than she.)

[ashirisu]

hey, everyone!

My name is Ley (pronounced like "Lee," she/they) and I'm a fiction writer/editor based in the PNW. I haven't done a proper writeblr intro in a while, so I figure the new year is a great time to reintroduce myself to the community!

— about me

An important thing to understand about me and the way I talk about writing is that this stuff is literally my entire life. Even outside of work, I don't think I have a single interest or hobby that doesn't relate back to storytelling in some capacity. I'm an avid media consumer and critic, and will hyperanalyze just about anything that catches my fancy for more than a minute.

I love science fiction and fantasy, and my goal as a writer is to take all the genres I loved growing up and create stories that are a little more diverse, inclusive, and queer.

— about the blog

I came to writeblr mostly to share my work, but also to find an active community where I can get excited with other writers and talk shop. Marketing is obviously a really important part of the publishing industry, but I get tired of having to filter every thought I have about my work and experiences through the lens of aesthetic micro-trends just to put it out in the world. Sometimes I just want to pop off about scenes I'm proud of, you know?

Above all else, I really just want to connect with more writers like myself, ones who got their start in fandom spaces and are working to take their writing from a hobby into a career. I see you, I am you, I love you, let's be friends!

You’ll definitely see me posting and reblogging a lot of stuff that isn’t necessarily related to writing, so be ready for that. My art exists in the context of my personality and the world as a whole, and I simply do not have it in me to maintain a whole separate blog for silly nonsense and memes. Just consider it a way to get to know the writer as well as the writing!

— about my writing

I write a lot, though most of it is disconnected nonsense. Flash fiction and short stories are where I really thrive as a writer. I don't tend to commit to long-form projects, but I have a few projects that I'll occasionally share details about!

I like to describe my style as "earnest and character-forward," which is a fancy way of saying that I like driven protagonists who think too much and are emotional to the point of it being a character flaw.

My goal is to share more of my original writing moving forward, so hopefully you'll get to see all of this for yourself. If I'm totally honest, though, you'll probably see more of me discussing my work than actually writing it.

— about my projects

Here are the things you'll most likely see me posting about:

Agnomen: A sci-fi retelling of Hamlet and Coriolanus, currently in its very preliminary stages. It is literally my Roman Empire, except it's set on a moon of a planet that I'm calling Jupiter as a placeholder (but please note that it isn't actually Jupiter, as Jupiter is a gas giant and therefore a scientifically impossible setting for large sections of the plot).

Alter Ego: A superhero fic in which not-so-mild-mannered reporter Drew Derrick fights for mutant rights and can't seem to get his act together when it comes to keeping the complicated parts of his life separate.

Untitled Fantasy Project: The very first project I ever wrote, and the piece I return to every so often when writing is feeling more like a slog than a fun hobby. I set a lot of one-offs in this world and follow a few key characters around without them having a real plot.

D&D: I write a lot about Baz, my Wild Magic Barbarian. He's a regency noble with a lot of problems, and I care about him very much. I also have various other settings and characters, but he's my most active PC at the moment and therefore gets the most attention.

Short Stories: Sometimes I write these, and sometimes I like them enough to share!

— tag directory

ley rambles: my (often wordy) opinions about things

ley writes: not necessarily my writing, but talking about my writing

my writing: stories, blurbs, and other content I've written

not my writing: reblogs and creative writing that I liked, shared, and sometimes commented on

[omegaphilosophia]

The Philosophy of Shakespeare

The philosophy of Shakespeare refers to the exploration of philosophical themes, questions, and ideas within the works of William Shakespeare. While Shakespeare was not a philosopher in the traditional sense, his plays and sonnets are rich with philosophical insights that address issues related to human nature, ethics, politics, love, fate, identity, and the human condition. Scholars and readers alike have long examined how Shakespeare’s writings engage with philosophical concepts and how these concepts are dramatized through his characters and narratives.

Key Themes in the Philosophy of Shakespeare:

Human Nature and the Human Condition:

Complexity of the Human Psyche: Shakespeare's characters are known for their psychological depth and complexity. His works explore the multifaceted nature of human beings, including the tensions between reason and emotion, ambition and morality, and appearance and reality.

The Tragic Flaw (Hamartia): Many of Shakespeare’s tragedies revolve around the concept of a tragic flaw, a characteristic that leads to the downfall of the protagonist. This theme raises philosophical questions about free will, fate, and the moral consequences of human actions.

Ethics and Morality:

Good and Evil: Shakespeare’s works frequently grapple with the nature of good and evil, exploring the moral ambiguities of his characters' actions. Plays like Macbeth and Othello delve into the corrupting influence of power, jealousy, and ambition.

Justice and Revenge: The tension between justice and revenge is a recurring theme, particularly in plays like Hamlet and The Merchant of Venice. These works examine the ethics of retribution, the consequences of revenge, and the pursuit of justice.

Fate and Free Will:

Destiny and Choice: Shakespeare often explores the tension between fate and free will, questioning the extent to which characters are in control of their own destinies. Romeo and Juliet and Macbeth are notable examples where the characters' actions seem predestined, yet their choices play a crucial role in their outcomes.

Prophecy and Foreknowledge: The use of prophecy, as seen in Macbeth and Julius Caesar, raises philosophical questions about whether knowledge of the future alters the course of events or if it leads inevitably to the fulfillment of that future.

Identity and Self-Knowledge:

The Fluidity of Identity: In plays like Twelfth Night and As You Like It, Shakespeare explores the fluidity of identity, particularly through themes of disguise and mistaken identity. These themes challenge the fixed nature of identity and raise questions about self-knowledge and authenticity.

Self-Deception: Characters in Shakespeare’s plays often engage in self-deception, either out of pride, fear, or desire. This theme is particularly prominent in King Lear and Hamlet, where characters’ inability to see themselves or their situations clearly leads to tragedy.

Politics and Power:

The Nature of Authority: Shakespeare’s historical plays and tragedies frequently address the nature of political power and authority. Richard III, Henry V, and Julius Caesar explore the ethics of leadership, the legitimacy of rulership, and the corrupting influence of power.

The Body Politic: The metaphor of the body politic, where the state is likened to a human body, is a recurring theme. In plays like Coriolanus and Measure for Measure, Shakespeare examines the health of the state and the moral responsibilities of rulers.

Love and Relationships:

Romantic Love: Shakespeare’s comedies and tragedies offer deep reflections on the nature of love, its joys, and its perils. Plays like Romeo and Juliet and Much Ado About Nothing explore the idealization of romantic love, the pain of unrequited love, and the complexities of human relationships.

Friendship and Loyalty: Beyond romantic love, Shakespeare also delves into themes of friendship and loyalty, as seen in The Merchant of Venice and Julius Caesar. These relationships often raise questions about the conflicts between personal loyalty and public duty.

Appearance vs. Reality:

Illusion and Truth: Many of Shakespeare’s plays involve themes of appearance versus reality, where characters and situations are not what they seem. Hamlet and Othello are prime examples of how deception and the search for truth drive the plot and philosophical inquiry.

Theatricality of Life: Shakespeare often blurs the line between reality and performance, as seen in As You Like It's famous "All the world's a stage" monologue. This raises philosophical questions about the nature of reality, the roles people play in life, and the construction of identity.

Mortality and the Meaning of Life:

Death and the Afterlife: Shakespeare’s works are deeply concerned with mortality, the fear of death, and the unknown aspects of the afterlife. Hamlet's "To be, or not to be" soliloquy is one of the most famous meditations on existence and the fear of what comes after death.

The Transience of Life: The fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of death are recurrent themes, particularly in Shakespeare’s sonnets and tragedies. These reflections often lead to a broader contemplation of the meaning and value of life.

Philosophical Skepticism:

Doubt and Certainty: Shakespeare’s characters often grapple with doubt and uncertainty, questioning their beliefs, their perceptions, and the world around them. This skepticism is evident in Hamlet's introspection and in King Lear's descent into madness.

Relativism and Perspective: Shakespeare frequently presents multiple perspectives within his plays, allowing for a relativistic view of truth and morality. This multiplicity of viewpoints invites the audience to question the nature of truth and the reliability of perception.

The philosophy of Shakespeare is not a unified doctrine but rather a rich and varied exploration of fundamental human concerns. Through his characters and narratives, Shakespeare engages with philosophical questions about human nature, morality, power, love, identity, and existence. His works continue to inspire philosophical inquiry, offering insights that are as relevant today as they were in the Elizabethan era.

[hrrtshape]

120 books? Hello? Thats insane 😟

and i did it to get validation from a MAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭anyways. EMMA's 2024 reading list

✶ letters to felice by f. kafka ✶ the trial by f. kafka

✶ brother's karamazov by f. dostoyevsky

✶ crime and punishment by f. dostoyevsky ✶ the second sex by s. de beauvoir

✶ what is existentialism? by s. de beauvoir

✶ journals, 1951-59 by a. camus

✶ the communist manifesto k. marx (had nothing better to do)

✶ god is dead by f. nietzsche

✶ existentialism by j. p. sartre

✶ notes from underground by f. dostoyevsky

✶ the meek one by f. dostoyevsky

✶ white nights by f. dostoyevsky

✶ the double by f. dostoyevsky

✶ the idiot by f. dostoyevsky

✶ letters to milena by f. kafka

✶ the bell jar by s. plath (my love)

✶ bend sinister by v. navokov (fun fact, nabokov has my favourite writing style ever)

✶ the defence by v. nabokov

✶ lolita by v. nabokov (i started this book when i was 13. can u believe that????

✶ metamorphosis by f. kafka (re-read 2 in the month of february)

✶ anna karenina by l. tolstoy

✶ inferno by dante

✶ no longer human by o. dazai

✶ frankenstein by m. shelley

✶ catcher in the rye by j.d sallinger

✶ hamlet by w. shakespeare

✶ 1984 by g. orwell

✶ emma by j. austen (hey ! that's me !!!)

✶ a clockwork orange by a. burgess

✶ jane eyre by c. bronte

✶ dracula by stoker 

✶ picture of dorian gray by o. wilde 

✶ wuthering heights by e. brontë

✶ great expectations by c. dickens (not a fan)

✶ pride and prejudice by j. austen (love love love the 2005 (i think) film)

✶ letter to my father by f. kafka (relatable ASF)

✶ animal farm by g. orwell

✶ the man and the sea e. hemingway 

✶ a christmas carol by c. dickens 

✶ to the lighthouse by v. woolf 

✶ 100 years of solitude by g. g. márquez 

✶ the nun by d. diderot (surprisingly one of my favourites from the list. definitely top 5)

✶ guardian angel by f. sagan (i love sagan. i'm starring in two of her book adaptations in my fame dr)

✶ caesar by w. shakespeare

✶ sename dvare (old farm) by š. ragana ( a lithuanian one)

✶ master and margarita by m. bulgakov (read this to get the approval of my father)

✶ cherry orchard by a. chekhov 

✶ mrs dalloway by v. woolf 

✶ death of ivan ilych by l. tolstoy 

✶ unabridged journals of sylvia plath by s. plath (also one of my absolute faves)

✶ the seagull by a. chekhov 

✶ the scarlet letter n. hawthorne

✶ perfume: story of a killer p. süskind

✶ a captains daughter a. pushkin

✶ night sky with exit wounds o. voung

✶ norwegian wood h. murakami

✶ the handmaids tale by m. atwood (honestly the only dystopian book i liked)

✶ on the road j. kerouac

✶ strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde r. l. stevenson

✶ eugene onegin by a. pushkin 

✶ dievu miškas (forest of the gods) (another lithuanian one)

✶ the stranger by a. camus (againnnnnn) 

✶ moby dick (get ready for me not to put the author's because im too lazy)

✶ the man in the case

✶ a streetcar named desire

✶ othello 

✶ much ado about nothing

✶ lady chatterley's lover 

✶ little women

✶ the bell jar (again) 

✶ ‘letters to vera’ by v. nabokov (favveeeee. i'm the biggest yearner of em all actually and vera&&&nabokov are me and coriolanus coded)

✶ persuasion

✶ description of a struggle by f. kafka 

✶ gender trouble by j. butler 

✶ my year of rest and relaxation (surprisingly relatable protagonist)

✶ ‘the secret history’ by d. tart

✶ odyssey

✶ breakfast in tiffany's

✶ virgin suicides

✶ valley of the dolls

✶ all of the 14 dork diaries. yes. i'm just saying that instead of linking all 14. but i read them all. because i was bored and it was june.

✶ what i mean by j. didion

✶ the white album by j. didion

✶ beloved by t. morrison

✶ lapnova

✶ girl, interrupted

✶ inseparable by s. de beauvoir

✶ the sun also rises

✶ the vanishing half

✶ flowers for algerion

✶ do androids dream of electric sheep?

✶ the portrait of the artist as a young man

✶ brave new world

✶ the silence of the lambs

✶ the eye

✶ fahrenheit 451

✶ dead poet's society

✶ enhancer

✶ bartleby, the scrivener

✶ the yellow wallpaper

✶ the tomb

✶ madagaskaras by m. ivaškevičius (another lithuanian one)

✶ the lottery by s. jackson

✶ there will come soft rains

✶ hills like white elephants

✶ the snows of kilimanjaro

✶ testaments what i wanna read but won't...because im too lazy

✶ war & peace

✶ something else idk brain's not working

[bettsfic]

(Love on Display is the series name for ASE and its sequel)

okay so for this commentary i went through my ASE tag to read the asks i'd gotten about it because i can't really remember the whole process, and found this response i'd written:

you know how like when you read or watch something, you kind of look for the character you relate to most? when i was rereading the hunger games last month i was thinking, i don’t relate to a single one of you bitches. and then annie shows up like “nope nope nope i can handle exactly 0% of this bullshit” and i was just, ah there i am

looking back on my mental health issues, the irony is that i was writing about madness in a time i was actually pretty stable, despite the pandemic being in full swing. i remember writing ASE throughout summer, sitting on my grandma's porch swing and admiring her garden, going inside only when it got dark enough for the fireflies to come out. at the time, i was approaching my third year of rejections on the original fiction front; i'd been querying agents for over a year and submitting short stories, and i felt like i wasn't getting anywhere. i was also about to start a phd program, which i was apprehensive about, to say the least. i wish i'd listened to that "i have a bad feeling about this" instinct.

tbosas had just come out (to almost no attention or acclaim; even now with the film coming out in a couple weeks, the gifsets i've been reblogging don't get a lot of traffic and the tag only has 250 fics in it) and so i read it, loved it, and immediately re-read the hunger games with the new lens of snow's origin story.

the hunger games is one of the few things that i think is completely worth the hype. it's a beautifully written series and i really admire it. tbosas i thought was even better, because it felt like suzanne collins had full creative control. it's not easy writing a villain origin story and i think she really managed to thread the needle with coriolanus as a POV character who is really the antagonist of two protagonists whose POVs we don't have access to.

anyway as soon as i finished re-reading the hunger games, i went back to read the one thg fic i'd written after the film series concluded, the baker's son. it wasn't as bad as i remembered it, because 2015-16 were the years i was really starting to figure out how to write, so everything from that time in my memory is hand-wavy at best. but i remember thinking, this could have been really good if i'd just taken my time with it.

back then, i never took my time with anything. i had so many ideas that i had to churn through them in order to get to the next one. when you're just starting out writing, you haven't followed through on enough ideas to know how to sort through them properly and find the ones that have legs. so i was still learning how to control my attention.

and so ASE marked a huge change in the way i viewed my own work and the reception thereof. i was getting nowhere in publishing, i was no longer in one single fandom and so i didn't really have a community, and i finally realized the only guarantee i would ever have is my own joy. that changed everything.

i know i'll always love the hunger games, because i genuinely believe it's good. it's engaging and entertaining and meaningful. before, i'd written for canons i actually didn't like, because communities had formed around them and i was inspired by what i felt was unmet potential in canon. but i know i'll never rewatch supernatural or the 100. in fact i didn't finish either of them. with big fandoms, sure, i get more traffic and comments. but i'd stopped writing for traffic and comments. i wrote ASE because it was fun, and i knew in 10 years i'd read the hunger games again, and i would want my perfect fixit fic. and i would want it to be long, and well thought out, and something i could be proud of.

i've kept that "i'm writing for my 40 year old self" mentality for all my writing. at 40, i want to look back at what i wrote at 30 and know it was time well spent because it made me happy during a hard time in human history. it's a lot easier to make creative decisions when you're writing for an audience of your future self.

with tbosas coming out soon, i'm hoping to finish the coriojanus fic i started in 2020 (i think it's 7k?). and looking back through my ASE tag i also saw how many ideas i had for finnick POV and i could see myself fiddling around with a few of those prompts eventually.

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes: Is Katniss Lucy Gray's Granddaughter?

The Hunger Games prequel, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is chock full of easter eggs and homages to the original trilogy. So much so that many folks are wondering if the District 12 survivor from years past has any relation to the Girl on Fire.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes follows young performer Lucy Gray Baird as she is reaped for the 10th annual Hunger Games, becoming the female tribute from District 12. Her path crosses with the ambitious yet penniless teenaged Coriolanus Snow, whose curriculum at the Capitol’s Academy causes him to take a vested interest in Lucy Gray’s performance in the Games.

Tom Blyth and Rachel Zegler in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Image courtesy of IMDb.

Similar in some ways, but different in even more, Katniss Everdeen and Lucy Gray Baird both played to their strengths to survive the brutal Hunger Games. Here are the reasons some people got the idea that these two protagonists could be related.

The Timeline Checks Out

In The Hunger Games trilogy, the white-haired President Snow has a granddaughter just a couple years younger than Katniss and her sister Prim. Given that his younger self was two years older than Lucy Gray, it’s perfectly feasible that Katniss and Prim could be her descendants.

“The Hanging Tree”

Now, Lucy Gray isn’t the only one who knew this song- certainly not after performing it for a vivacious crowd of dancers at a District 12 pub. But Katniss is no performer. She gritted her teeth through any performative act she had to take to ensure her own survival, yet “The Hanging Tree” is a song she occasionally sang willingly, one she found peaceful. It must have had a special place in her heart to bring her that comfort. And why might that be? 

Jennifer Lawrence and Amandla Stenberg in The Hunger Games. Image courtesy of IMDb.

Their Strategies in the Games

Lucy Gray and Katniss handled the Games- and the mind games leading up to the Games- very differently. Yet at their core, they played the same way. Both girls played smart, rather than violent; they both waited out the initial bloodbath and took as little life as was possible, given the circumstances. When finally forced to play their hand, Lucy Gray and Katniss both did the wholly unexpected, somehow finding a third option for themselves besides kill or be killed. Their strength in not succumbing to the animal-like behavior that the Capitol so eagerly wanted to televise is an outlier that draws a connection between the two of them.

Rachel Zegler in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Image courtesy of IMDb.

Katniss

Lucy Gray had a fondness for Katniss- the plant. It’s a swamp potato that the Covey would eat on their travels. Not everyone called the plant Katniss, but Lucy Gray liked to. Did she like it enough for a child of hers to pass the name along in her honor?

Despite all these easter eggs in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes that can’t help but draw the mind to Katniss Everdeen, no relation between the two District 12 victors is ever confirmed. A strong argument can be made for one, but there are also some reasons this theory is just that- a theory.

The Covey

 Lucy Gray Baird is a member of the Covey, a traveling performance troupe that happened to be settled in District 12 at the time of the 10th annual Hunger Games. Her Covey identity is so important to her that she is reluctant to call herself a resident of District 12, despite being reaped as the district’s female tribute. Yet, there is no mention of the Covey in The Hunger Games. The group is a new addition to The Hunger Games world with The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. If Katniss was related to Lucy Gray, they would only be two generations removed, and Lucy Gray’s Covey identity would likely play a role in Katniss’s sense of self as well. The complete absence of the Covey in Katniss’s story casts some doubt on the possibility of a connection between the two girls.

Rachel Zegler in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Image courtesy of IMDb.

District 12 

The Covey complicates things even further. Given that they are a traveling group, to the extent that Lucy Gray refused to call District 12 home, it seems unlikely that she spent the rest of her life there. When you add in the fact that, at the end of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, she and Coriolanus had set out to leave the districts and never return, the thought of her establishing a family in District 12 feels even more far-fetched. The prequel ends on an ambiguous note, with Lucy Gray deliberately losing Coriolanus in the forest, so it’s hard to say if she ever saw 12 again, much less made meaningful connections there.

Radically Different Personalities

 Lucy Gray’s reaping consisted of her dropping a snake down another girl’s dress and then bursting into song. Katniss’s reaping found her intensely and tearfully volunteering in her sister’s place. The contrast between Lucy Gray’s levity and Katniss’s seriousness is a constant in their personalities. Lucy Gray, a performer for a living and a performer for survival, won Capitol hearts with her charm and voice. Katniss, on the other hand, had to be begged to grin and bear it, to give a single twirl, to save not just herself but Peeta- whose affability was an essential counterpart to her stone-faced persona. If the two girls are related, a similar demeanor is not one of the clues.

Jennifer Lawrence and Stanley Tucci in The Hunger Games. Image courtesy of IMDb.

Ultimately, though, we’ll never know for sure. It’s possible that The Ballad of Songbirds and Snake’s homages to Katniss served more as an explanation as to why the Girl on Fire bothered President Snow so much. Maybe she just got under his skin because she reminded him a little too much of the girl who bested him and broke his heart all those years ago- related or not.

What's your gut telling you? Do you think these two share blood? Or just that powerful fighting spirit?

[demonoflight]

I bought The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes when it came out fully intending to read it but between the mixed reviews that immediately came out and the panini and the fact that Coriolanus Snow is an absolute shitweasel in the trilogy proper and I need a certain mindset to endure villain protagonists, I only got around to reading it this month because Reasons

And like. I understand how it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but shit, I thought it was so good. It kept me engaged and made me feel things and think deep thoughts. It answered a lot of questions I had when I was reading the original trilogy. There were a lot of “shocked but not surprised” moments. It’s kind of like, no wonder everyone in the Capitol is Like That. And Coriolanus Snow turns out to have always been an absolute turd, to no one’s surprise. Even when he does something nice for someone you want to strangle him because he never does it out of true kindness, he’s just a self-righteous selfish prick! The absolute worst person! Absolutely brilliant.

Meanwhile Sejanus was the goodest boy and deserved better. Poor, sweet Sejanus.

I am very interested in reading more of Suzanne Collins’ agenda. Doesn’t have to be more THG related books, anything goes, but please continue to tell me how you really feel about war, privilege, the meaning of being human and the falsehoods of American “freedom”. Though I wouldn’t mind a book from the point of view of a winner-turned-mentor or something about why some people in the Capitol did decide to rebel like Plutarch Heavensbee? There’s a lot of stories that can be told.

[alwida10]

Sylvie is the protagonist of the Loki series and here is why:

A protagonist

1) has to be relatable and

2) has to contribute to the plot.

I already talked about point No. 2 so I won’t repeat myself here. The interesting new epiphany I had is about point 1).

Now, in most fictional works the protagonist is the reader insert. While that doesn’t exclude the protagonist being a bad person, it still demands to show his reasoning so he gets relatable. In classic literature this is ultimately important to understand tragedies. In tragedies, the protagonist normally is provided two possible ways to act. One is ‘the easy way’ where they will survive but have to sacrifice their principles, honor or some other character trait of high importance. In Emilia Galotti, she would have survived and lived in prosperity but would have become the harlot of the prince. Coriolanus would have become consul if he swallowed his pride and sucked up to the commen people of Rome. But the protagonist chooses their principle and the tragedy unfolds.

Now, is Coriolanus an asshole? No, because we get to see his reasons. He gets pressured by his family into a life he doesn’t even desire. He’s a soldier and in a way a simple and straightforward man who isn’t made for politics. He’s loyal so when his former enemy who took him in after he was banished from Rome wants to attack Rome, Coriolanus can’t go with him. He can’t attack his friends and family in Rome. Why don’t we see him as an asshole and are even sad when he dies?

Because we know his reasons! Back to the Loki series. In episode 1, Loki’s former actions (and with them his motivations) are shown. But how are they shown?

Mobius tells us loki would at least know how to cooperate if he wants to woo someone powerful he plans to betray.

Loki introduces us to the idea the TVA would be a scheme of the weak to inspire fear. This is later redirected so it is in fact a statement about Loki. To drive this point home he is shown repeatedly as weak: his attempt to talk down to the Mongolians is ridiculously weak, Mobius calls him a pussycat, his petty revenge on B15.

The loki variants in Ep.5 are all portrayed as power-hungry, backstabbing liars. Even Kid loki who never could have met Thanos, already killed his brother, showing even way back Loki was supposed to be a murderer.

He is focused on his ‘glorious purpose’ alone and gets crushed when it’s shown to be empty.

I assume the cooper-scene was probably supposed to make Loki relatable and cool, but failed IMO because it was just a joke. Nothing that would touch his former characterization.

Please not what is NOT shown: we see nothing of the hurt loki felt in Thor 1, no hint of Thanos influencing or torturing Loki, no indication Thor and his friends could ever done anything wrong. All those things would have been the reasons that made Loki do what he did in Thor 1 and Avengers. Things that would have made his former actions relatable. Instead, we get another explanation: according to the series, he’s a ‘conniving, craven, pathetic worm’ who betrays ‘everyone that ever loved him’.

But betrayal isn’t something done out of fun. Loki did bad things. I won’t deny that. But he had his reasons. Reasons that aren’t shown.

Sylvie’s reasons are shown. She contributes to the plot. Sylvie is the True Protagonist.

[dwellordream]

“...It stands to reason that a society which is ruled by its male senior citizens through the control of younger and less powerful men would instill reverence for the wisdom of advancing age in its male youth. The Romans, we might observe, referred to previous generations as maiores, greater individuals, and employed the adjective magnus, great, in the kinship terms for parents' close male and female ascendants (a practice the English language has adopted with its use of the adjective "great" for kin of earlier generations); such a practice testifies to the Roman equation of seniority with superiority, and to the inclusion of women among its superior seniors. 

Thus it should come as no surprise that older women seem to command more respect, inspire more awe, and have (or be perceived as having) greater social and political influence than do younger ones. In addition, Roman women along in years were more likely to have young male relatives who were eager to prove themselves worthy of and to their elders, and who were mindful of the nurturance they had recently received from mothers and older kinswomen; such young men were under special pressure to manifest their respect and awe for their female maiores through publicly visible gestures. 

We have already examined the idealization in Tacitus' Dialogus of the moral instruction and intellectual sustenance provided for an eternally indebted Roman male youth committed to a life of public service by his upstanding female relatives; this picture is far from unique in Roman writings. Such a vision of an older Roman matron's function, and of Roman mother-son relations, seems the parodic point of Plautus' Casina. The play, composed immediately before the playwright's death in 184 B.C., was popular enough to be revived in the next generation. In it, the materfamilias Cleostrata intimidates her elderly and socially powerful husband both through proving herself his moral superior and, as her son's ally and abettor, by ingeniously securing for this son the sexual favors of a slave girl his father also covets.

By cleverly rendering her presumably grateful son such services, attracting admiration for her capable handling of this complex affair, but nonetheless setting herself up as a moral example in the process, she evidently travesties the Roman concept of a wise, righteous, and exemplary mother. This same vision, however, is reproduced as part of a serious moral and political exemplum in Livy's narrative on the Bacchanalian scandal, an episode which profoundly shook Roman society shortly before the Casina was first performed. Livy's young male protagonist Aebutius and his reluctantly influential courtesan mistress Hispala Fecinia manage to bring the matter to the consul Postumius' attention, and Postumius proceeds to bring the malefactors to justice, solely through the aid of Aebutia, amita (father's sister), to Aebutius, and Postumius' venerable mother-in-law Sulpicia. 

These two older women—depicted as virtuous, beneficent, sagacious, deserving of male reverence and hence, by Livy's implication, truly "maternal"—are contrasted with two, far less admirable, matronly counterparts: Aebutius' own mother Duronia, whose devotion to both her second husband and his interest in depriving Aebutius of his patrimony led her to seek her son's undoing by having him initiated into Bacchic worship; the Campanian priestess Paculla Annia, who began the Bacchic cult's corrupting influence by initiating its first men, her own sons. 

Livy's account, at 39.nff., of Postumius' efforts to ascertain, through Sulpicia, the character of Aebutia, warrants special notice since here he treats these two nurturant and publicly influential mother figures in a sympathetic and sentimentalizing fashion: he refers to the former woman as dignified, a gravis (and later a gravissima) femina, to the latter as morally upright and of old-fashioned ways, probam et antiqui moris; he even describes Aebutia as moved to tears by, the dreadful treatment of her brother's son (filius eius fiatris), also morally upright (probus), by those who should have been the last to do so.

 Another, doubtlessly romanticized, moralizing tale also attests to both the esteem in which a young Roman male was to hold his elder kinswomen's judgment and moral authority and to the public display and political impact of such esteem, namely the story of Gnaeus Marcius Coriolanus. Set in the mid-fifth century B.C., the story achieved great popularity in the classical period: a lost book by Cicero's closest friend Titus Pomponius Atticus featured Coriolanus prominently; Livy, Valerius Maximus, and Plutarch all treat his tragedy. Coriolanus has recently been called the "Roman archetype" of the "perpetual mama's boy" in a provocative psychoanalytic study of the Roman mother-son relationship, and for good reason: he allegedly valued his widowed mother so highly that he abandoned a traitorous march on Rome at the head of an enemy force only after she demanded that he desist.

There are less dramatic, and probably somewhat more reliable, pieces of ancient Roman testimony to the reverential regard of young Roman men for the older, maternal female members of their families, to their—and others'—experience of these women as significant and influential individuals, and to the frequent exhibition of both this regard and this experience in a larger sociopolitical context. Several laudationes Junebres, orations delivered by aristocratic Roman men (and usually youthful ones) to honor a deceased relative of political distinction, belong in this category. 

Cicero reports that the first such speech in commemoration of a woman was given in 102 B.C. by the consul Quintus Lutatius Catulus to honor his mother Popilia; no young woman received this same recognition until over thirty years later, when Julius Caesar's second wife, Cornelia, was buried amid her husband's public praises. That same year, however, Caesar made a more memorable, or at least better remembered, contribution to funeral oratory with his laudation of his father's sister Julia, wife of the military and political leader Marius. Caesar's words first proclaimed the glory of this aunt's, and hence his own father's, maternal ancestry: The maternal lineage of my paternal aunt Julia descended from kings, the paternal is connected with the immortal gods. 

For the Marcii Reges go back to Ancus Marcius, Marcia being the name of her mother, and the Julii, to which clan our family belongs, are offspring of Venus. There is, therefore, in her lineage both the holiness of kings, who have the greatest power among humans, and the religious quality of gods, in whose power are the kings themselves. Perhaps not insignificantly, Ancus Marcius, the early king from whom Julia's maternal Marcii traced their lineage, supposedly inherited Rome's throne through his maternal grandfather; so, too, the divinity from whom her (and her nephew's) paternal Julii avowed their descent was Venus, mother of the Trojan hero Aeneas.

A later, and also elderly, Julia, Caesar's sister, was hailed in the funeral laudatio upon her death in 51 B.C. by the twelve-year-old Octavius, whose mother Atia was Julia's daughter; through this maternal grandmother Octavius, later the emperor Augustus, could claim descent by blood, as well as adoption, from Venus and the Julian clan. The laudatio delivered in 42 B.C. to honor the nonagenarian Caecilia by her son Atticus, a man whose attraction to the Coriolanus legend we have already noted, stirred comment as providing proof of Atticus' familial devotion (pietas): said to be sixty-seven at the time, he pointed out that he had never once needed to apologize to his mother, nor quarreled with his sister, who was almost the same age as he. 

One might also consider in this context an inscription generally dated to the early empire, the laudatio of a noble matron Murdia. It is dedicated by a son of the woman's first marriage, despite the fact that her second husband seems to have been numbered among her survivors. She is, moreover, identified only with the words Murdiae L(ucii) F(iliae) Matris, "Murdia, Lucius' daughter and my mother"; she is acclaimed by this son as "most precious to me" (carissima mihi), although he says nothing about affection between her and either husband. 

Along with citing her modesty (modestia), upright character (probitas, an attribute we have seen noted in Livy's Aebutia and Aebutius), chastity (pudicitia), compliant nature (opsequium), wool-spinning (lanificium), conscientiousness, and trustworthiness (diligentia and fides), he cites her wisdom (.sapientia); what is more, he accords her special praise for treating all of her sons equally in her will. Both mater and amita also figure prominently in another, fairly early and important source for the public reverence awarded and sociopolitical significance clearly and justifiably ascribed to older Roman women of the upper classes by their younger male relatives. 

…It may help further to elucidate why other young Roman men of the upper classes regarded their elder female relations, their own and other men's mothers, so seriously, looking upon them as socially and politically powerful figures deserving publicly visible homage. Atticus' sister of sixty-odd, Aemilia, the dowager sister of Lucius Aemilius Paullus, and the matrons who were sisters of Aemilia's son Publius Cornelius Scipio (and hence enjoyed the magnanimity of his adoptive son) obviously rank among older women, whether by age or by relation to their devoted male kin. But the concern publicly evinced for other, younger, women of high birth by their brothers, such as that displayed by Scipio in his munificence to his sisters, indicates that sisters in Roman elite society were also highly, and publicly, esteemed by their brothers. 

Evidence from Roman comedy merits special note in this context. A lengthy passage from Plautus' Aulularia generalizes on the feelings and duties of brothers and sisters to one another: it depicts Roman brothers and sisters as partaking of a close relationship, sharing the same concerns, and looking to one another for advice; it depicts one particular sister, moreover, as expecting her advice to be followed. At lines i2off. Eunomia speaks of her sincere commitment to her brother Megadorus' best interests as "befitting a sister of the same parents" While acknowledging that brothers find sisters bothersome, she points out their mutual obligation to counsel and admonish one another, and even demands that Megadorus do what she orders; she justifies these demands on the grounds that she is closest to him and he to her.

More importantly, both Roman legend and Roman historical writing concur in their depiction of this fraternal esteem for sisters, and fraternal compliance with sisters' wishes, as having a substantial public impact among the Roman elite. They suggest that a Roman sister, though likely to be regarded with respect rather than veneration, and subtly complimented rather than eulogized, by her brother, often exerted influence of a political nature both on and through him; they indicate that various sisters publicly reflected in—and often actually benefited from—their brothers' social and political prestige.”

- Judith P. Hallett, “Women of Elite Families and Roman Society.” in Fathers and Daughters in Roman Society: Women and the Elite Family

[minhos-harness]

hi! for the send me a fandom ask game, could i please inquire about the hunger games (and if not, the classic maze runner)? hope you're doing well!

hi there! ahh, I love the hunger games so much, it's one of my all-time favourite series!

The first character I first fell in love with: Katniss! Like the series itself, Katniss is very important to me and has stuck with me through the years. Katniss, to me, is a very meaningful character. She's incredibly strong, resilient and determined, and consistently displays acts of bravery and compassion throughout her journey. Despite her hardened exterior, she also has a vulnerable side.

I appreciate that Katniss posseses realistic attributes as well (something I find other YA protagonists often lack). Katniss can be stubborn, appears cold at times and struggles to make friends. She keeps her distance from others and is even viewed as "unlikeable." It's refreshening and, in my opinion, makes her more relatable.

All in all, I adore Katniss Everdeen and through the first person perspective of the story in which we hear her thoughts and experience everything alongside her, I was quick to fall in love with her during my first ever read through of the books.

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Oh, Effie. Her development is wonderful; as the story progresses, we witness her growing past her initial Capitol attitude to becoming aware and empathetic of the Districts and their reality. It's fantastic growth and we love to see it!

I'd like to say Haymitch as well. He's an intriguing character to me and I love the depth behind him and his actions. His backstory is really sad and I enjoy seeing him grow closer to Katniss over the course of the series.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: Hmm, I'm not sure... Although I do love him, I suppose I don't love Peeta to the degree that everyone else seems to. That's not to say I hate or even dislike him, though - it's quite the opposite, really. He's a great character and I appreciate his kind nature (something we need to see applied more often to male characters), but again, I feel as though the fandoms love of him is much more intense than mine. So it's not that I don't love him, I just don't love him as much.

Does that count as an answer

The character I love that everyone else hates: I can't think of any characters this applies to for me.

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Same answer as above, really.

The character I would totally smooch: Finnick, for sure!

The character I’d want to be like: Again, Katniss. Ever since I first read the series when I was younger, I've always admired her. As I mentioned before, she's a very strong person who does whatever she can to protect those she loves and cares about. She's a survivor who, despite all her hardships, continues to fight.

The character I’d slap: I think Coriolanus Snow deserves a nice big one. Do I really need to give a reason why?

A pairing that I love: Finnick and Annie. Their relationship is very sweet and despite what Suzanne Collins says, they definitely had a happy ending in which they lived out the rest of their lives peacefully together with their little baby.

Also, I won't lie, I actually really like Haymitch/Effie, haha. I love their dynamic and seeing Woody and Elizabeth bounce off each other in the films is really fun.

A pairing that I despise: I don't despise it as such, but I'm not a fan of Katniss/Gale romantically. I can see why people ship them, but I could never see them being together, much less lasting. As Katniss points out in the epilogue of Mockingjay, they both have fiery spirits and Katniss doesn't need or want any more of that.

Thanks for the ask and an excuse to talk about The Hunger Games @sunny-reys!

Send me a fandom and I'll tell you...

[amunvulcan]

Fortuna (Latin: Fortūna, equivalent to the Greek goddess Tyche) is the goddess of fortune and the personification of luck in Roman religion who, largely thanks to the Late Antique author Boethius, remained popular through the Middle Ages until at least the Renaissance. The blindfolded depiction of her is still an important figure in many aspects of today's Italian culture, where the dichotomy fortuna / sfortuna (luck / unluck) plays a prominent role in everyday social life, also represented by the very common refrain "La [dea] fortuna è cieca" (latin Fortuna caeca est; "Luck [goddess] is blind").

Fortuna is often depicted with a gubernaculum (ship's rudder), a ball or Rota Fortunae (wheel of fortune, first mentioned by Cicero) and a cornucopia (horn of plenty). She might bring good or bad luck: she could be represented as veiled and blind, as in modern depictions of Lady Justice, except that Fortuna does not hold a balance. Fortuna came to represent life's capriciousness. She was also a goddess of fate: as Atrox Fortuna, she claimed the young lives of the princeps Augustus' grandsons Gaius and Lucius, prospective heirs to the Empire.[1] (In antiquity she was also known as Automatia.)[2]

Fortuna's father was said to be Jupiter and like him, she could also be bountiful (Copia). As Annonaria she protected grain supplies. June 11 was consecrated to her: on June 24 she was given cult at the festival of Fors Fortuna.[4][5] Fortuna's name seems to derive from Vortumna (she who revolves the year).[citation needed]

Roman writers disagreed whether her cult was introduced to Rome by Servius Tullius[6] or Ancus Marcius.[7] The two earliest temples mentioned in Roman Calendars were outside the city, on the right bank of the Tiber (in Italian Trastevere). The first temple dedicated to Fortuna was attributed to the Etruscan Servius Tullius, while the second is known to have been built in 293 BC as the fulfilment of a Roman promise made during later Etruscan wars.[8] The date of dedication of her temples was 24 June, or Midsummer's Day, when celebrants from Rome annually floated to the temples downstream from the city. After undisclosed rituals they then rowed back, garlanded and inebriated.[9] Also Fortuna had a temple at the Forum Boarium. Here Fortuna was twinned with the cult of Mater Matuta (the goddesses shared a festival on 11 June), and the paired temples have been revealed in the excavation beside the church of Sant'Omobono: the cults are indeed archaic in date.[10] Fortuna Primigenia of Praeneste was adopted by Romans at the end of 3rd century BC in an important cult of Fortuna Publica Populi Romani (the Official Good Luck of the Roman People) on the Quirinalis outside the Porta Collina.[11] No temple at Rome, however, rivalled the magnificence of the Praenestine sanctuary.

Fortuna's identity as personification of chance events was closely tied to virtus (strength of character). Public officials who lacked virtues invited ill-fortune on themselves and Rome: Sallust uses the infamous Catiline as illustration – "Truly, when in the place of work, idleness, in place of the spirit of measure and equity, caprice and pride invade, fortune is changed just as with morality".[12]

An oracle at the Temple of Fortuna Primigena in Praeneste used a form of divination in which a small boy picked out one of various futures that were written on oak rods. Cults to Fortuna in her many forms are attested throughout the Roman world. Dedications have been found to Fortuna Dubia (doubtful fortune), Fortuna Brevis (fickle or wayward fortune) and Fortuna Mala (bad fortune).

Fortuna is found in a variety of domestic and personal contexts. During the early Empire, an amulet from the House of Menander in Pompeii links her to the Egyptian goddess Isis, as Isis-Fortuna.[13] She is functionally related to the god Bonus Eventus,[14] who is often represented as her counterpart: both appear on amulets and intaglio engraved gems across the Roman world. In the context of the early republican period account of Coriolanus, in around 488 BC the Roman senate dedicated a temple to Fortuna on account of the services of the matrons of Rome in saving the city from destruction.[15] Evidence of Fortuna worship has been found as far north as Castlecary, Scotland[16] and an altar and statue can now be viewed at the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow.[17]

The earliest reference to the Wheel of Fortune, emblematic of the endless changes in life between prosperity and disaster, is from 55 BC.[18] In Seneca's tragedy Agamemnon, a chorus addresses Fortuna in terms that would remain almost proverbial, and in a high heroic ranting mode that Renaissance writers would emulate:

O Fortune, who dost bestow the throne's high boon with mocking hand, in dangerous and doubtful state thou settest the too exalted. Never have sceptres obtained calm peace or certain tenure; care on care weighs them down, and ever do fresh storms vex their souls. ... great kingdoms sink of their own weight, and Fortune gives way ‘neath the burden of herself. Sails swollen with favouring breezes fear blasts too strongly theirs; the tower which rears its head to the very clouds is beaten by rainy Auster. ... Whatever Fortune has raised on high, she lifts but to bring low. Modest estate has longer life; then happy he whoe’er, content with the common lot, with safe breeze hugs the shore, and, fearing to trust his skiff to the wider sea, with unambitious oar keeps close to land.[19]

Ovid's description is typical of Roman representations: in a letter from exile[20] he reflects ruefully on the “goddess who admits by her unsteady wheel her own fickleness; she always has its apex beneath her swaying foot.”

Fortuna did not disappear from the popular imagination with the ascendancy of Christianity.[21] Saint Augustine took a stand against her continuing presence, in the City of God: "How, therefore, is she good, who without discernment comes to both the good and to the bad?...It profits one nothing to worship her if she is truly fortune... let the bad worship her...this supposed deity".[22] In the 6th century, the Consolation of Philosophy, by statesman and philosopher Boethius, written while he faced execution, reflected the Christian theology of casus, that the apparently random and often ruinous turns of Fortune's Wheel are in fact both inevitable and providential, that even the most coincidental events are part of God's hidden plan which one should not resist or try to change. Fortuna, then, was a servant of God,[23] and events, individual decisions, the influence of the stars were all merely vehicles of Divine Will. In succeeding generations Boethius' Consolation was required reading for scholars and students. Fortune crept back into popular acceptance, with a new iconographic trait, "two-faced Fortune", Fortuna bifrons; such depictions continue into the 15th century.[24]

The ubiquitous image of the Wheel of Fortune found throughout the Middle Ages and beyond was a direct legacy of the second book of Boethius's Consolation. The Wheel appears in many renditions from tiny miniatures in manuscripts to huge stained glass windows in cathedrals, such as at Amiens. Lady Fortune is usually represented as larger than life to underscore her importance. The wheel characteristically has four shelves, or stages of life, with four human figures, usually labeled on the left regnabo (I shall reign), on the top regno (I reign) and is usually crowned, descending on the right regnavi (I have reigned) and the lowly figure on the bottom is marked sum sine regno (I have no kingdom). Medieval representations of Fortune emphasize her duality and instability, such as two faces side by side like Janus; one face smiling the other frowning; half the face white the other black; she may be blindfolded but without scales, blind to justice. She was associated with the cornucopia, ship's rudder, the ball and the wheel. The cornucopia is where plenty flows from, the Helmsman's rudder steers fate, the globe symbolizes chance (who gets good or bad luck), and the wheel symbolizes that luck, good or bad, never lasts.

Fortuna lightly balances the

orb

of sovereignty between thumb and finger in a Dutch painting of

ca

1530 (

Musée des Beaux-Arts de Strasbourg

)

Fortune would have many influences in cultural works throughout the Middle Ages. In Le Roman de la Rose, Fortune frustrates the hopes of a lover who has been helped by a personified character "Reason". In Dante's Inferno (vii.67-96), Virgil explains the nature of Fortune, both a devil and a ministering angel, subservient to God. Boccaccio's De Casibus Virorum Illustrium ("The Fortunes of Famous Men"), used by John Lydgate to compose his Fall of Princes, tells of many where the turn of Fortune's wheel brought those most high to disaster, and Boccaccio essay De remedii dell'una e dell'altra Fortuna, depends upon Boethius for the double nature of Fortuna. Fortune makes her appearance in Carmina Burana (see image). The Christianized Lady Fortune is not autonomous: illustrations for Boccaccio's Remedii show Fortuna enthroned in a triumphal car with reins that lead to heaven.[25]

Fortuna also appears in chapter 25 of Machiavelli's The Prince, in which he says Fortune only rules one half of men's fate, the other half being of their own will. Machiavelli reminds the reader that Fortune is a woman, that she favours a strong, ambitious hand, and that she favours the more aggressive and bold young man than a timid elder. Monteverdi's opera L'incoronazione di Poppea features Fortuna, contrasted with the goddess Virtue. Even Shakespeare was no stranger to Lady Fortune:

When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes I all alone beweep my outcast state...

Ignatius J Reilly, the protagonist in the famous John Kennedy Toole novel A Confederacy of Dunces, identifies Fortuna as the agent of change in his life. A verbose, preposterous medievalist, Ignatius is of the mindset that he does not belong in the world and that his numerous failings are the work of some higher power. He continually refers to Fortuna as having spun him downwards on her wheel of luck, as in “Oh, Fortuna, you degenerate wanton!”

In astrology the term Pars Fortuna represents a mathematical point in the zodiac derived by the longitudinal positions of the Sun, Moon and Ascendant (Rising sign) in the birth chart of an individual. It represents an especially beneficial point in the horoscopic chart. In Arabic astrology, this and similar points are called Arabian Parts.

Al-Biruni (973 – 1048), an 11th-century mathematician, astronomer, and scholar, who was the greatest proponent of this system of prediction, listed a total of 97 Arabic Parts, which were widely used for astrological consultations.

Aspects[edit]

Lady Fortune in a

Boccaccio

manuscript

Sculpture of Fortuna,

Vienna

La Fortune

by

Charles Samuel

(1894), Collection

King Baudouin Foundation

Fortuna Annonaria brought the luck of the harvest

Fortuna Belli the fortune of war

Fortuna Primigenia directed the fortune of a firstborn child at the moment of birth

Fortuna Virilis ("Luck in men"), a woman's luck in marriage[26]

Fortuna Redux brought one safely home

Fortuna Respiciens the fortune of the provider

Fortuna Muliebris the luck of a woman.

Fortuna Victrix brought victory in battle

Fortuna Augusta the fortune of the emperor[27]

Fortuna Balnearis the fortune of the baths.[27]

Fortuna Conservatrix the fortune of the Preserver[28]

Fortuna Equestris fortune of the Knights.[28]

Fortuna Huiusce Diei fortune of the present day.[28]

Fortuna Obsequens fortune of indulgence.[28]

Fortuna Privata fortune of the private individual.[28]

Fortuna Publica fortune of the people.[28]

Fortuna Romana fortune of Rome.[28]

Fortuna Virgo fortune of the virgin.[28]

Fortuna Faitrix the fortune of life

Pars Fortuna

Fortuna Barbata the fortune of adolescents becoming adults[29]

[beautifulpaxiel]

Thoughts on “Ballad”

So I finished reading The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes last night (actually the early hours of this morning, if you want to be precise), and I thought I’d share my thoughts on it. 

Can I say this book gave me Feelings?! With a capital F.

I couldn’t sleep for a while afterwards, my thoughts were all over the place as I tried to absorb it all. I kind of wish I hadn’t read it so fast - I tend to have a habit of reading books too quickly if I’m really into them and then regretting it later on.

Anyway.

I thought I’d do this as a series of bullet points because it’s easier for me to articulate my thoughts that way.

First of all, the Snows’ money was invested in District 13? 

Tigris seemed really sweet. I wonder - still do, actually - what made her hate her cousin so much she wanted him dead by Mockingjay? And she’s actually three years older than Coriolanus, which makes her how old in the third book? Probably nearing ninety.

I was really intrigued to see how the actual Hunger Games were different in the beginning, and actually how a lot of the ideas to reform it were Snow’s.

I wonder if Snow got the idea of hijacking Peeta from the snake-biting incident with Clemensia? I know the species of muttation are different, but the snake venom supposedly had a neurological effect on the victim, which is kind of similar to how Peeta’s mind was warped? I don’t know. Probably barking up the wrong tree there.

Snow’s irritation and resentment of the Plinth family grated on me, which I suppose it was meant to, being as they were clearly nouveau riche. I particularly hated his disdain for Ma Plinth - aside from her cooking. 

I like how Suzanne Collins didn’t force us to like Snow as a character even though he was the protagonist. He had some good characteristics (*ducks flying tomatoes*) but ultimately the seeds for his villainy were sown early on.

Speaking as I did of the Plinths earlier, I really liked Sejanus (as a lot of people seem to have done). He was obviously hamstrung by his family’s fortune and hated what the Hunger Games stood for. Also I enjoyed seeing him stand up to Professor Gaul.

Speaking of Professor Gaul, I would not want to get on her bad side - or her good side, for that matter. Does that woman even have a good side? *shudders*

Highbottom was an interesting character. I struggled to work out his motives in the beginning, especially how a lot of the time he was under the influence of morphling.But it all made tragic sense in the end.

Lucy Gray Baird - can I just say WOW? At first I didn’t know what to make of her - I mean, singing at the reaping, and slipping a snake down the dress of the mayor’s daughter? I thought that was over the top. But later I came to admire and respect her for her resilience. I did keep waiting for the penny to drop in terms of her relationship with Snow - was she pretending?  And finally, I wish we’d gotten a clue to her eventual fate - that was left frustratingly open-ended. I kind of think she must be related to Katniss somehow, perhaps through her father? There’s too many references to her musical ability (both by herself and with the other Covey) for it not to be at least a possibility. It would also be her ultimate triumph over Snow - call it poetic justice.

Speaking of music, I thought that was a trifle overdone. I thought too many song lyrics broke up the flow of the narrative. Having said that, though, I kind of want to hear those songs that Lucy wrote. And HOW FREAKING COOL is it that she WROTE “The Hanging Tree”? And how it tied in to her relationships with Snow and Billy Taupe. Also actually knowing there was a hanging tree. I got freaking chills when it was mentioned.

And the Valley Song - now we finally know what it was that began the journey that is Everlark. 

I gave a little snort when Snow said he hated mockingjays. Oh, Coryo, if you only knew how much.

I do wonder how long Suzanne was planning this for, given how much the two timelines tie together and what was in the films.

I loved the little references to the katniss plant. Feels strange to not be capitalising it.

Interesting that the Capitol's citizens were not always the monsters they seemed by the time Katniss & co. were around, although the sense of entitlement and superiority were there.

The way that the district tributes were considered by the Capitolites as less than human  boiled my blood. They couldn’t even be treated by proper human doctors, no, they were treated by VETS, as if they were animals.

I think I definitely need to do a reread at some point so I can actually give a considered opinion of the book rather than these random points, but for now, that’s it.

Thanks for reading!

[de-cheval-et-chasse]

A Moment about “Still Star-Crossed” – and other Shakespeare adaptations

Countless adaptations of Shakespeare’s plays span hundreds of years, and the likely candidate for most adapted play is Romeo & Juliet. Most recently, “Grey’s Anatomy” creator and prolific TV producer Shonda Rhimes explores the world of Shakespeare’s classic post tragic deaths. Aptly named Still Star-Crossed (the show draws its name and plot from author Melinda Taub’s 2013 young-adult novel), Rhimes’s latest work joins the consistently expanding realm of film and television adaptations of Shakespeare.

In her book Shakespeare and the Problem of Adaptation, Margaret Jane Kidnie terms adaptation “an evolving category…closely tied to how the work modifies over time and from one reception space to another”. Accessible to audiences beyond academia, Still Star-Crossed does an admirable job of staying true to the play’s dramatic pathos, while keeping intact the flesh of well-scoured soap-operatic fascinations with shifting alliances that have characterized Rhimes’s evolving television repertory.

The show focuses on named characters Rosaline and Benvolio, who take the place of Romeo and Juliet as Verona’s eponymous star-crossed lovers, and explores their connections to both warring, shambling families.  Still Star-Crossed lifts characters’ names and statuses from both the “original” work (“original” in quotes because even Shakespeare lifted from other sources), and Taub’s book.  

Though it lacks iambic pentameter, there’s a lot about Still Star-Crossed Shakespeare enthusiasts can find to love: integrated casting (an enduring, welcome fixture of Rhimes’ shows), central female characters, brewing political intrigue, and varied romantic relationships.

The show follows a female character who has little to do in the original and is therefore ripe for development. Rosaline (who in Shakespeare’s work was discussed but is not even included in any stage direction, much less possessed of any lines,) is the show’s main female protagonist.  She exhibits qualities evident from Shakespeare’s other heroines while maintaining her own story arc.  As played by actress Lashana Lynch, Rosaline is headstrong, independent, pragmatic, and loyal.  

As in As You Like It, the show features more than one strong female, and she shares qualities with characters such as Lady Macbeth and Volumnia (of Coriolanus). Princess Isabella, the sister of the feud-frustrated ruler of Verona, as played by Iranian actor Medalion Rahimi, is exacting, ambitious, and operates from Verona-walled shadows.

The concept of copyright was foreign to the people of early modern England (approximately the late 15th century to the 18th century).  Plays were licensed, but were ultimately the property of the playing troupe – not of a single author (a practice which fellow early modern playwright Ben Jonson heavily challenged during his time and beyond).  Plays vibing off of Shakespeare’s work proliferated from the early modern period onward. Two examples include John Fletcher’s 1647 The Woman’s Prize, or The Tamer Tamed (a continuation of Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew) and Nahum Tate’s 1681 The History of King Lear, (in)famous for its happy ending.  Adaptations have also carried over to films in the early 1900s.  Although the mediums are different, observing the plot-related elements present in Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa’s trilogy Throne of Blood, Ran, and The Bad Sleep Well (adaptations of Shakespeare’s Macbeth, King Lear, and Hamlet, respectively) next to Tate’s Lear shows the similarities in the practice of adapting.  Beyond, similarities, though, the choice to include distinct elements, such as some from Japanese Folklore, in the films, influences the action, if not necessarily the events from the plays they borrowed or re-purposed. Though not influenced by folklore, by contrast, the direct changing of a plot point in Tate’s Lear–that of going from a tragic to a happy ending–subverts the conclusion in ways that can be both shocking and delightful”.

The adaptation train shows no sign of slowing down.  Indeed, our own Shakespeare’s New Contemporaries Project at the ASC seeks to build of modern canon of contemporary companion plays that vibe off and are inspired by Shakespeare’s work.  Recent concern has been expressed of Shakespeare’s plays and those of his contemporaries being cast out of theatres in favor of their modern day kin, perhaps most notably after the Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s Play On! Initiative launched in 2015. But there’s no cause for concern, dear friend. Past and future adaptations of Shakespeare’s works are beautiful reflections of his masterpieces, and they can only help us recover the joy and accessibility of Shakespeare’s plays.

Still Star-Crossed airs Saturdays at 10|9c on ABC.  Full episodes are online at ABC.

Source: American Shakespeare Center Blog