#Annabelle Vacile

[sleepyghostiii]

Big day for Annie enjoyers

[ollieofthebeholder]

Made-up fic title: Secrets of the Emerald Bog

Ooh, that's a good one!

I'm thinking a TMA AU wherein Sasha is the Archivist and Jon and Tim are her assistants. They've had several statements that won't record involving a place that keeps getting referred to as the Emerald Bog (Tim always says it in a theatrical, overly-dramatic voice) and a mysterious figure at its center that always seems to help or hinder depending on what the statement-giver is trying to do. Eventually Jon - possibly alone, possibly with Tim - goes to investigate this mystery man and finds one Martin Blackwood.

It's sort of a toss-up in my mind if Martin is part of the Web, part of the Lonely, or genuinely just a waystation, but either way he's sort of the antithesis of the Keeper as I wrote him in leaves - he's genuinely there to guide people, to point them in the right direction, to help the lost find their way and maybe to offer a bit of protection. You know, steer people away from the rocks, point them towards a safe harbor, etc., etc., etc. He probably knows Gerry, at least in passing. Likely Oliver Banks as well. Maybe even Annabelle Cane. He at least knew of Gertrude Robinson, but probably never met her. (She probably thought he was dangerous, which is why I'm leaning towards him not belonging to the Fourteen - she just assumed he was some elaborate trap or monster or something and had plans to sound him out once she was done sorting out the Dark's ritual.)

It opens up for all sorts of delicious tension in the Archives if Jon doesn't tell Sasha what he found there exactly, or if he's vague about it, but keeps going back because he's drawn to this person. Bonus points if he doesn't tell Tim about Martin either and Tim vacillates between being worried that Jon's in danger and angry that Jon's lying.

[nomdeguerreblogs]

Some Thoughts About S4

Thanks to the anon who prompted this mini-thesis because. So. Many. Thoughts.

Tommy faces the morning sun and closes his eyes to regret and grief. Another series dawns…

Let’s start with the big question: ‘Is John Shelby Going to be Bumped Off?’ Short answer, I think so. I’ve vacillated a lot tbh, because being so spoiled it feels massively telegraphed, to the extent that it could be deliberate misdirection. Although that the evidence for it in the trailer is far from conclusive for people who casually watch the show is kind of proof in itself I think - there is still meant to be a question mark. But when you combine Esme weeping in (I’d bet on it because of her height and the necklace) Lizzie’s embrace; John and Esme’s absence at the family meeting; the Watery Lane bts shots without him joining the swagger; the wearing of black at that family meeting and elsewhere; that John and Esme haven’t had terribly much to do together since s1 and now are heavily featured; and Joe Cole not spending so much time on set it’s feeling ominous. Sure, it could still be smoke-and-mirrors. The tweeds of the promo pic suggest he goes country (the absence); and the black dress Esme’s in from that promo is the same as the one she’s wearing in a scene with John when he’s clearly very much alive. Her tears could be shock for his near-death (there are the scenes outside the hospital) or the untimely demise of one of their children. I don’t think the black is a ruse though, they all seem too united in anger at Tommy, and it’s not for our golden wrapper Harry Kirton at that point. The trailer heavily suggests that at least one of them will die, and wise money would be on John. At least it looks like there might be relatable grief this time.

About the family meeting, it is nice to see them in the gambling den again. I am terribly pleased Johnny Dogs and Charlie Strong are there too. But my favourite bit of the entire trailer is Finn’s Look™ at Tommy. They’ve come a long way since “that’s why you should never pretend to be me.” As if Finn ever had the choice to depart that shadow. I’ll miss Harry for whatever reason he’s leaving, he looks like a baby F. Scott Fitzgerald with that parting.

The Michael, Arthur and John scene with the policemen is likely a follow-up to s3. They are either being walked to the noose or a sentencing. They clearly all make it, past that point anyway.

Paul Anderson can break me with a twitch of his moustache and the dribble of a tear. Please never kill off Arthur, SK, I beg. Or Linda, I like her and that revolver was so cheering…

Michael and Ada don’t appear much in the trailer, but I think in combination with their ‘ranking’ in the s4 promo pic (and the comparative luxury of both’s outfits in said image), that’s because they’re still going to be the ‘legitimate’ side of the business - Chief Accountant and Head of Property and Acquisitions. Here’s hoping they share a plot, it could be enormous fun.

Polly facing the gallows must be her follow-on scene from the cliffhanger; she has the same hairstyle and blouse as 3.06. She clearly survives to do other things, which is great because SK needs her for balance. She’s the heart of the family, after all. The scene of her dressed in a fabulous floral kimono-type thing, taking a moment, is overlaid briefly by the zoetrope of the Edwardian (Victorian?) woman, perhaps representing something she once aspired to be, spinning round and around and it seems Polly herself will be sent reeling this series. She has a couple of quite different hairstyles - is there an element of disguise? Also the holster.

Speaking of hair, Charlie has a Peaky cut lmao. Tommy’s mini me. Perhaps nits were a problem at Arrow House? Tommy continues to have Dodgy Taste™ in artworks.

Adrien Brody appears to be another threat from Northern Ireland by that accent. Knowing SK, he’ll be ‘establishment’ of some kind as well; Tommy is always working against ‘them above,’ being as bad in order to survive ergo badder by the series, and there’s no other character we know of yet that could fulfil that role. But hell, Brody could be dubiously linked to the US government and have a legacy accent. He seems to be reprising Sabini in a murky tunnel at one point.

Alfie isn’t looking any healthier, or happier. Is the beach where that machine gun enters the country? Bravo the Woody cameo!!! I am desperately keen for Tommy and Alfie to have a fight on wet sand it would be hilarious.

Speaking of the machine gun, I LOVE the styling of that shootout! First time Peaky’s felt like a Western since s1 and I am digging it deeply.

ALSO pumped about the boxing match which I’ve been looking forward to since that ticket surfaced (date: 12 February 1926, Golliath vs Gold). Jack Rowan’s character is a bit of dark horse, though I’m guessing he’s the ‘Gold’ of the ticket bc his opponent is a fair bit bigger - he’s victorious in the ring, as well as there with Aidan Gillen’s character who is still thankfully lovely despite the hair - what ARE they there for? Anyway, that’s a publicly demonstrative thing Tommy’s doing with the gunshot at the end of the fight - it’s a message surely. The massive Union Jack AND Saint George’s Cross on the wall feel significant, especially possibly in conjunction with an Irish villain.

The girl under the bridge… I’ll come down off the fence and say I think that’s Charlie Murphy. I’d bet on it. One of my favourite mutuals (who’s very good at these things) swears blind it’s Lizzie, but there’s something about the profile where the cheeks meet her mouth and that tiny bump in her nose. Her hair looks longer than Lizzie’s s4 bob too. It is better than comparing Gaite and Annabelle’s breasts. Anyway, we’ve found our love interest of the series. Jury’s out on whether she’ll be the only one or one of two or three; my anxiety about Lizzie is unabated and May’s in s4. It would be the first series since one to not give Tommy three ladies. *sigh* *crosses fingers* The scene itself calls a bit to Ada and Freddie in 1.01, who met in the tunnel to hide their relationship. We’ll see; whatever it is it’s more intimate than the ‘hands’ bit of the s2 promo or the drunk snogging of s3. I’m just not that interested any more. At least it doesn’t look like she’s a queen on Tommy’s ever-more-acquisitive series of bedpost notches.

That scene in the cell with Arthur? No idea. And the tunnel-walking with gun raised in the lighting that seems designed against intravenous drug use is also a mystery. Though it looks like Victoria Baths to me and there isn’t even a whiff of May so at least that bit of plot is probably not facing reprise.

Cautious optimism abounds for a series that looks to be bringing all those chickens home to roost. There was no emotion that wasn’t pain or fear and after s3 that is apt and deserved. Here’s to the bleak midwinter!

[achilles-knight]

5 Years later... || Achille’s POV

Era sempre bom estar rodeado pela família, por isso que o Capitão Achille Wushi Knight sempre amou viajar para Brenson para presenciar os churrascos do velho Mark Knight, se divertir, brincar, jogar conversa fora, se empanturrar da melhor costela do meio oeste... Mas de uns tempos para cá ele não sentia mais tanta falta da cidadezinha de seu avô, não por falta de interesse, não que tivesse ocorrido algo entre Achille e os Knight, jamais, o que havia acontecido era algo entre Achille e dois outros Knights, uma recém tornada e outro novinho em folha. 

Com o fim da seleção, Achille viajou com Alice para China para resolver todos os assuntos faltantes entre ela e a sua família, Achille nunca, por um momento sequer vacilou ou deixou o lado dela, afinal, era a mulher que ele amava, amava mais do que tudo que já tinha acontecido de bom com ele ou qualquer um que tivesse passado pela sua vida. Nem mesmo os bravares da rainha chinesa bastaram para amedrontar o corajoso herói americano, que tomou todas as criticas e insultos que ela jogou contra ele e pouco se ferrou, não importava, não se ele ainda teria o sorriso de Alice, não se ainda pudesse a ter em seus braços, como tinha sido bom até então, e ele sabia, seria bom para todo o sempre

Não houve duvidas, após o natal no rancho dos Knight, após as festividades de ano novo, Achille não perdeu tempo, no dia 6 de Janeiro daquele mesmo ano, exatos 6 meses após que os dois se conheceram, Achille se ajoelhava na frente do castelo da Cinderella no Magic Kingdom enquanto os fogos estouravam nos céus e em seu peito, enquanto ele abria a pequena caixinha que fez tanto esforço para esconder da astuta princesa a viagem inteira que fizeram para Orlando e quando ela aceitou, obliterando os últimos resquícios de duvida que o militar tinha em seu peito, o mundo virou luz, seus problemas sumiram, nada, simplesmente nada mais poderia mudar o fato que a partir dali o melhor da sua vida começaria, ao lado da sua noiva, sua futura esposa, a princesa Adalizia Wushi, quem ele não apenas havia se apaixonado perdidamente nesses ultimos meses, mas aprendido a cuidar, se conectar com ela e claro, a amar.

O Casamento dos dois foi no próprio rancho do avô de Achille, era o de se esperar com a maioria dos convidados sendo de lá, foi estranho ver a cidade invadida pela realeza amiga de Alice, até mesmo as velhas amigas de Achille como Ayoo e Elena estavam presentes. Foi um casamento enorme para os padrões americanos, bom, ao menos do povo Americano, mas mai pelo numero de convidados, chegava a ser surpreendente o numero de pessoas que gostavam do casal e se importava com a junção dos dois em matrimônio e os noivos, pareciam duas crianças de tão nervosos. Achille gaguejava sem parar a manha inteira, teve que tomar 3 tapas no rosto para se acalmar, um de seu amigo Dean, outro de sua amiga Behati e o terceiro do seu padrinho, Julian, velho e bom amigo, já que, infelizmente, Achille pensou em convidar Ryan, mas imaginou que este estaria muito ocupado ou simplesmente não aceitaria visto o quanto aquilo tinha a ver com o seu irmão gêmeo, de qualquer maneira, ele entendia

A noivinha foi Annabelle, a pequena jovem neta de um dos amigos do avô de Achille e agora primeira namoradinha de seu primo Roy Junior, que deslumbrava os cabelos fogo e o sorriso travesso que deixavam o pequeno,que estava de noivinho, completamente ruborizado. Os Avós de Achille assistiam orgulhosos o neto pelo homem que ele havia se tornado e levado o legado dos Knight com honra para frente e se casando daquela maneira só os dava mais certeza que ele continuaria por muito tempo (sem falar que até mesmo a sua avó durona deixou cair algumas lagrimas durante a cerimônia). Os tios de Achille só faltavam ter uma Vuvuzela de tão animados que estavam com tudo aquilo, afinal, seu sobrinho favorito estava se casando e o seu filho era o noivinho, Edna tinha que ter a boca tapada para não gritar de emoção. E por fim os pais de Achille, que mesmo em silêncio pelas solenidades, expressavam nos olhos e nos sorrisos o orgulho que sentiam, os olhos azuis de Walt, pai de Achille, marejavam ao ver o filho finalmente de terno para tomar a mulher da sua vida em seus braços, acompanhado de sua esposa, que mesmo rígida também deixava o coração derreter como manteiga, uma surpresa para todos como ela reagia. 

Achille agora era Achille Wushi Knight, adotando o sobrenome da sua esposa a pedido dos pais dela e pelos costumes da realeza e de uma forma, agora era um príncipe... Quem diria? Nem passava por sua cabeça fazer parte da linha de sucessão chinesa ou a responsabilidade que seria, pois agora, de uma forma ou outra, corria risco de se tornar Rei e sua esposa, rainha, oportunidade que esperava nunca ocorrer nem agora, nem em momento posterior

O resto da cerimonia, na festa, foi uma festa com a cara dos noivos, nada de musica clássica além da valsa “obrigatória”, mas muito musicas animadas, sem falar na comida em excesso e o quanto de bebida que tinham, é preciso dizer como Achille e Alice terminaram aquela noite? Bom, eles aproveitaram, passaram a maioria do tempo se beijando ou se agarrando ou apenas olhando um para o outro em silêncio, sem o resto do mundo importar se não aquele que estava na sua frente

Depois do casamento veio a lua de mel do Havaí (quase repetiram a Disney, mas acharam melhor dar uma pausa), onde apesar de tudo, não importava a paisagem se Achille ficasse daquele jeito só olhando a sua esposa como a mulher mais linda do mundo, não importava a praia, onda ou ilha onde estavam, tudo brilhava e vibrava, mas ainda não conseguia se equiparar com o que ele via em Alice, com o que ele viu nela desde a primeira vez que seus olhos cruzaram... além da fantasia de monstro marinho, é claro

No ano seguinte mais coisas aconteceram, como a coroação do irmão mais velho de Alice, que por mais sério que este fosse, (estranhamente fazendo Achille se lembrar de Ryan de uma forma distante) conseguiu pegar amizade com o Cunhado, que foi o suficiente para fazer o mesmo quase perder o dia da coroação com uma noitada regada a bebida, mas é claro, tudo terminou bem e entraria para a lista de coisas para se rir depois

Após mais um ano, Alice finalmente se tornava policial, levando em conta o treinamento do marido, mas nunca se valendo de recomendação ou qualquer benefício da influência de Achille, Alice havia conquistado tudo com o seu suor e dedicação, mostrando para todos que era muito mais do que apenas uma princesa que cometia erros no passado, muito mais apenas que um rosto bonito. Isso tudo porém, para Achille não fazia diferença, ele já sabia de tudo isso, sabia da mulher incrível com quem havia se casado a parecia a amar cada dia mais e mais, fazendo com que mesmo aqueles dias em que tudo desse errado no serviço e chegasse em casa acabado, ainda teria a sua luz, o seu anjo que era Alice, para toma-lo num abraço, beija-lo quantas vezes o precisar o fazer se sentir o homem mais sortudo do mundo

Durante as férias seguintes do casal na disney, uma surpresa, no mesmo lugar onde Achille havia feito o pedido de casamento para Alice, naquela altura eles já tinham visitado todas as Disney do mundo, mas nunca nenhuma superava a Walt Disney World, não só era o local de diversão de Achille durante a sua infância, não só era um excelente parque de diversões, mas ao aceitar o pedido de casamento ali, nos degraus do castelo, Alice eternizou o local na mente e no coração do militar como o seu lugar favorito no mundo inteiro, e agora, mais ainda ao saber que seria pai. Finalmente. 

Pai, seria pai, como aquele que lhe instruiu a vida inteira num mundo de provas e espiações, aquele que o apoiou e o fez crescer forte, finalmente poderia fazer isso com outro ser, poderia fazer isso por alguém e alguns meses depois lá estava ele, com os filhos no braço, ainda ensanguentado após o parto, chorando como um bobo, achando que aquela coisinha pequena em suas mãos fosse a coisa mais linda do mundo inteiro. Cabelos escuros e lisos como os do pai, olhos levemente puxados e castanhos mel, como os da mãe, aquele era Charles “Charlie” Wushi Knight, vazia valer tudo o que passaram para chegar até ali, os desafios, os problemas, os pratos que teve que cozinhar 3 da madrugada quando Alice acordava morrendo de vontade de churrasco com churros ou Frango com torta de abóbora. Achille achou que nunca conseguiria amar outra pessoa com aquela força e intensidade que amava Alice, mas a prova ao contrário estava ali, nos seus braços

Macacão dos Power Rangers e dos Autobots, bichinhos de pelúcia gigante do Mickey Mouse. Receitas de papinhas e Lion Guard até dar com pau, Mais visitas a Babies R Us do que jamais esperava fazer e litros, L I T R O S de café para aguentar as madrugadas de choro, mas como era bom, como era perfeito em todos os momentos e instantes, ainda cansado, ainda quase dormindo, tirando no par ou impar com Alice para ver quem teria que levantar da cama, ir até o quarto que uma vez foi de Alice, pegar o pequeno Charles no colo e o fazer dormir. Com alguns meses de vida, o pequeno começava a balbuciar palavras “Mama”, “papa” já fizeram o casal se derreter todo, como se não houvesse coisa mais linda no mundo e era assim, intensos, apaixonados, amando uns aos outros, aquela família dos Knights só precisavam estar perto para poder ser felizes, até mesmo o pequeno Charles, que sorria como o pai quase toda hora, bem comportado, e esperto, aparentemente nerd como Achille, o que o enchia de orgulho, não havia como ficar melhor

Mas ficou.

Quase que do nada, depois de meses no encalço de uma quadrilha de tráfico de armas militares passadas para criminosos, Achille, com a ajuda de sua esposa, chegaram a um culpado, todos ficaram surpresos quando viram o ex-comandante do 3º batalhão naval, Ethan Halstead por trás dos crimes, após perder o seu cargo anos antes por má conduta, passou a usar os seus conhecimentos do sistema para o mau, mas, felizmente, ele não foi páreo para Achille, que após um curto confronto de corpo a corpo (que rendeu a Ethan vários roxos no rosto, braço, costelas e nariz quebrado), foi preso devidamente e mais uma vez o país estava em divida com o militar, retribuindo-lhe sa forma que menos esperava: o promovendo a Capitão

Com o cargo como prova de seus serviços prestados, a família mais que perfeita que ele sempre havia pedido “para Optimus”, a vida não poderia ser melhor, mas Achille só tinha meros 31 anos, a vida ainda estava na sua frente para ele viver ela inteira. O tempo poderia passar, o mundo poderia mudar, mas algo era verdadeiro, Achille nunca mudaria, continuaria com o mesmo coração jovial, com energia, brincalhão e agradável. Apaixonado pelo seu filho que a cada dia crescia cada vez mais e que esperava um dia pudesse tomar as próprias escolhas e ser o que ele quisesse ser. E ainda, amando Alice, mais do que uma esposa, mais do que uma companheira, Achille havia a visto naquele baile e se sentiu atraído por ela imediatamente, muitas coisas aconteceram depois daquela noite, mas agora, até mesmo as que tinham sido ruins não mais tinham efeito, Alice não era só a mulher mais linda do mundo, era sua melhor amiga, vivendo com ela, a apoiando e a ajudando, não foi difícil de se apaixonar e era fácil saber porque. Ele simplesmente se sentia feito para Alice e ela para ele, sabia que seu amor duraria muito mais do que a sua sua vida, duraria para sempre, mas por enquanto, viver uma vida ao lado dela não seria nada mal.

[vileart]

Hedda Gabbler: National Theatre on Tour

Gary Day’s insistence that tragedy emerged from sacrificial ritual becomes increasingly problematic in his reading of Hedda Gabbler. Recognising that Ibsen’s interest in naturalism – ‘the scientific observation of ‘real’ people… who speak and dress in a ‘realistic manner’ (2016: 132) does away with the religious trappings and the necessity of sacrifice, Day identifies Gabbler’s universe is ‘approaching the world of Beckett where we are waiting for things to wind down and where there will be no new beginning… there is no scapegoat who can purge (society)’ (2016: 133). Indeed, he concludes that Hedda’s suicide at the end of the play evokes the murder of Clytemnestra in the Oresteia, a death that removes an obstacle to patriarchal power and is the opposite to the redemptive sacrifice at the heart of ritual.

Ivo van Hove’s production of Hedda Gabbler (National Theatre, 2017) does offer a reconciliation between Day’s notion of the tragic and Ibsen’s naturalism. Using a translation of Ibsen’s script by Patrick Maber, he strips away the period detail in the scenography and locates the action in a vaguely contemporary setting. Van Hove’s direction vacillates between the measured naturalism of the script – Adam Best portrays Brack as a thuggish rapist who hides behind a veneer of louche sophistication – and a more symbolic dramaturgy which concludes with Hedda’s suicide enacted on stage, contrary to the source script, and the other characters arranged, in silhouette, facing her dead body. The pistols that will eventually be used for the suicide are placed on the wall of the set, encased in a cabinet and clearly on display in a very literal placement of the ‘Chekhov’s gun’ trope – emphasising the tragic inevitability of the deaths in the way that Brecht found objectionable in the Aristotelian tradition. When Brack threatens Hedda, he pours tomato juice over her white dress, making the violence of his threats as explicit as blood flowing from her body.

The challenge of Ibsen’s Hedda Gabbler lies in the tension between the conduct of the protagonist – she is manipulative, deceitful and desperate for a life that she cannot have – and her punishment in the final act. Having manufactured the suicide of her ex-lover Lovborg, she is trapped in a loveless relationship as her husband is now collaborating with Hedda’s rival and Brack’s intention to ‘visit’ her as a companion in her husband’s absence: van Hove’s production has made it clear that this would mean repeated sexual assaults. Hedda’s decision to commit suicide and to make it ‘beautiful’ – that is, to find the meaning in a clean death that has been denied her in life – mirrors the botched suicide of her ex-lover. In her death, she attains the dignity that her character has denied her.

Van Hove articulates this tension by a shift from a naturalistic approach for the first acts

– despite the sparse scenography, which takes it cues from comments made by Hedda and her husband that they cannot afford to furnish their flat – and moving towards symbolism in the final third. Using Joni Mitchell’s Blue as a repeated motif, the production stresses Hedda’s alienation, and clumsily foreshadows several dramatic moments: the suicides through the guns, the burning of her ex-lover’s manuscript by the maid slowly lighting a fire at the start of Act II, Hedda’s death in the trail of tomato juice. Hedda’s behaviour is presented without apology. She taunts Mrs Elvsted for her beauty, encourages Lovborg to drink heavily – knowing that it would destroy him – and mocks her husband’s claims on her body. Lizzy Watt’s performance has a whirling energy, as she dominates conversations, makes little effort to charm her companions and is quite obvious in her insincerity. That Mrs Elvsted could fall for her deception only reveals how naïve Lovborg’s lover (and co-author) must be. Hedda is a monster of vanity, and despite references to her father as a man of status, and a few insights into her loveless and sexless marriage, the script offers little explanation for her behaviour.

It’s only towards the finale that Hedda elicits sympathy, and this is as much to do with Ibsen’s adaptation of the tragic format as her situation. A brutal reading of the play could emphasise Hedda’s responsibility for her fate: her attempted, childish rebellion against social mores only enmeshes her in its less charitable snares. Yet from the report of Lovborg’s suicide – presented by Brack in a heartless messenger speech – Hedda’s decline to death takes on the inevitability of a Greek tragedy. Like Oedipus, Hedda awaits news – the detail of Lovborg’s suicide, which she hopes will be ‘beautiful’ – and the news, far from redeeming her, crushes her hopes. Brack then spells out to her the detail of her future oppression – a sexual relationship with him, once posed as a sophisticated dalliance, is now a compulsory payment for his silence on her complicity in Lovborg’s death. Meanwhile, her husband abandons her for Mrs Elvstead: although they are working together on completing Lovborg’s manuscript, Annabel Bates lends Mrs Elvstead an innocent flirtatious charm that clearly displaces Hedda in her husband’s affections. It is as if Hedda is being shown the tools of the torture, and Brack’s wry statement that he intends to ‘occupy her fully’ has the overtones of a judicial sentence, lascivious and fatal.

It’s in these scenes that van Hove abandons the naturalism for a more ritualistic drama. The characters take on the aura of archetypes: Brack the compromised and self-serving magistrate, Hedda the victim of patriarchy, Mrs Elvstead the innocent who is protected and rewarded by society. Death becomes, if not redemptive, at least meaningful. And with the pistols hung boldly on the wall from the very beginning of Act I, all of this is inevitable. The production signposts the fatalism so clearly that it is as if it has taken Brecht’s complaint against ritualistic tragedy and amplified it even to the point of parody.

Van Hove draws out the problems of Ibsen’s use of both naturalism and tragic form: Hedda is both an object for sympathy and a description of a particular rebellion against the constraints of society. By abandoning the detail of Victorian society for its vague contemporary feel, van Hove dislocates the events into the tragic abstract, exposing Ibsen’s reliance on the traditions that he aimed to replace. The production’s dramaturgy speaks of the influence of Aristotle, Brecht and even absurdist nihilism, without settling on a single dominant dramaturgy. Hedda’s behaviour denies her the ‘purity’ of the scapegoat – hence Day’s problem with her sacrifice – but she undeniably becomes a victim of a system that demands her submission. Her suicide – elegantly performed, a statement of refusal – partakes in both the political as an act of revolution against oppression, and the nihilistic, a rejection of life’s innate worth and value. Her life, on the other hand, was a petty rebellion, ill-informed, malicious and barely aware of the constraints that contained it. Her death is a lesson that her life could not teach.

And perhaps Day’s description of Hedda’s suicide as ‘another version of the sacrifice of Clytemnestra… no one will be held to account for it’ (2016:135) misses something. A play is not merely a ‘report’ but as Brecht puts it a ‘live representation’ (Short Organum, 1964:180). Eric Bentley (The Life of the Drama, 1983) grapples with Brecht’s political stances, defending it as ‘employed in what doctrinaires on both sides might call subterfuge and evasion, rather than celebration of the true faith’ (1964:141): in the same way, Ibsen’s feminist intentions, explicit in the suicide but occluded in the ugliness of Hedda’s character, refuse to compromise his depiction of a woman caught in patriarchy but unable to formulate a mature resistance. That she relies on stereotypical ‘feminine wiles’ rather than a robust attack, that she is painted as mean-spirited and trivial only serves to broaden the play and offer a dialectic of which Brecht, Marx or Hegel would be proud. Hedda’s sacrifice is not intended to redeem those within the play, but demonstrate to the auditorium.

from the vileblog http://ift.tt/2y3tzFK

[noloveforned]

recommended digital releases, july 7th

a large majority of the music i listen to these days is done at work through a premium spotify subscription. the hardest part seems to be trying to remember when an album i’ve been anticipating finally comes out on whatever random friday.

i figure i’m not the only one so every friday i’m aiming to post five new releases from the past week (or so) as well as five recent releases from the past couple months that are available through spotify (and presumably the other streaming platforms).

new releases from the past week (or so):

chris bell "looking forward- the roots of big star" on omnivore [spotify] everyone talks about alex chilton's pre-big star life with the box tops but chris bell was busy before big star as well. the anthology collects nearly two dozen tracks from his pre-big star bands including rock city, icewater, and the wallabys. this is just the start of a massive chris bell reissue project on omnivore that will also yield an expanded 'i am the cosmos' this fall and a six lp 'complete chris bell' box set at some point. hozac books will also issue "there was a light: the cosmic history of big star founder chris bell" by rich tupica.

peter brötzmann, steve swell and paal nilssen-love "live in tel aviv" on not two [spotify, bandcamp] a new live album recorded in israel last fall from one of my favorite active brötzmann trios with swell on trombone and nilssen-love on drums.

great outdoors "fake news" on smooch [spotify, bandcamp] zachary schneider has been involved in a handful of great australian bands over the past few years including full ugly, free time, and totally mild. great outdoors has been his solo project and with their second album they've graduated to a proper band.

francis macdonald and harry pye "bonjour" on shoeshine [spotify] francis macdonald lives in scotland and plays drums in teenage fanclub (as well as guesting all over the place). harry pye lives in london and is a visual artist and webzine editor. pye handles vocals on three tracks that tell stories (ala "the gift" by the velvet underground or various looper tracks) over strings. macdonald's tracks are (unsurprisingly) teenage fanclubby pop that continue last year's teenage fanclub album in addressing adult life.

bill orcutt "bill orcutt" on palilalia [spotify, bandcamp] bill orcutt founded the noise band harry pussy in the early nineties but his solo work over the past ten years has leaned towards solo guitar explorations of the american songbook. here he pulls out the electric guitar to twist "when you wish upon a star", "white christmas", and others into almost unrecognizable territory.

slightly older stuff:

annabel lee "wallflower" ep on luik [spotify, bandcamp] annabel lee are a belgian band led by audrey marot that vacilate between the twee sounds of allo, darlin' (r.i.p.) and the garage pop of alvvays.

mark mcguire "ideas of beginnings" on vin du select qualitite [spotify] this is mark's second album of solo guitar for vdsq and you'd be forgiven if you thought this wasn't the same mark mcguire who was a member of emeralds. the a-side is acoustic and fits right in with all of your modern day acoustic friends like steve gunn, william tyler and so forth. the b-side is electric and maybe a little more familiar to those that were a fan of the multitude of blissed out cd-rs he was a part of ten years ago.

the monks "hamburg recordings 1967" ep on third man [spotify] the final recordings from the short-lived band of american g.i.'s stationed in berlin. a little more straightforward than their earlier recordings but fans of poppy sixties psych won't be disappointed!

poppies "good" ep on topshelf [spotify, bandcamp] new york twee-mo indie pop band in the double double whammy vein.

prince "purple rain (deluxe edition)" on warner bros. [spotify] a couple years before his death prince and warner bros. finally reached an agreement for him to return to the label in exchange for prince regaining control of his catalog. the first fruit of the deal was last fall's '4ever' compilation. things begin to really ripen with the deluxe edition of 'purple rain' which include a remaster job and single mixes from the album. the real treasure though are more than an hour's worth of 'purple rain' era tracks from prince's vault which was formerly (and notoriously) shut tight for most of the 21st century.

more 'recommended releases' posts from no love for ned