#I get lost in a fugue of scenarios that will never come to pass because I'm too willing and ready to just be a tool and not a person

[buckynats]

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[scripttorture]

Sorry for the multiple asks. In Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom's parents were tortured to what I assume is catatonia by the cruciatus curse. Is this a realistic portrayal of the effects of torture, or does it involve some degree of magical handwaving? If realistic, then would you mind suggesting some avenues, both grounded in reality and more fantastical, by which their condition may be helped?

So I had a long answer written out for this and then it got eaten and I’d deleted my backup (both of them) and don’t you just despise technology sometimes? Join me as I scream into the void.

 Once more, from the top-

 No need to apologise for multiple asks. They are in fact encouraged. I’d rather you looked for answers to your questions then assumed you already know the answer. Thank you for coming to me. Thank you for taking an interest. It really does mean a lot to me to see people engaging with the subject. :)

 It’s been a long time since I read Harry Potter. From what I can remember I don’t think the books handled torture survivors well.

 I think this particular portrayal landed smack bang in ‘torture makes victims passive’. It was also pretty explicitly using that misconception about torture survivors being unable to live full, happy lives or make any kind of recovery.

 You could make the argument that these are magical, rather then the effects of torture. But I don’t think Rowling did any work to show that was the case. From what I can remember the stuff that’s actually in the books just suggests the curse causes pain and… that’s it.

 Which doesn’t stop you from trying to make a bad portrayal better.

 @scriptshrink is the mental health professional in the family and may disagree. From what I can remember I don’t think the description of the Longbottoms in the books was exactly catatonia. It seemed more like a combination of catatonia and late stage dementia to me.

 Which creates a bit of a problem for a narrative arc if you want to treat these characters in a more realistic way. Because catatonia is easily treated now with drugs and late stage dementia is… there’s basically no effective treatment. There are things patients can be given to slow the progression of dementia but what they’ve lost is gone. (I’ve spent quite a long time around people with various forms of dementia and I’m going to cite experience as my source there).

 The reason that’s an issue for a narrative is that there really isn’t a middle ground between ‘take this pill to recover’ and ‘there is no treatment at all’. And that’s not on you, it’s on the source material.

 So, suggestion time: I do have a few different ideas depending on what you want from a recovery arc and how you want to characterise Wizard culture in your story.

 Let’s assume that (like catatonia) this fugue state survivors of the curse are in is easily treatable. What happens when you take it away? When survivors are present, not dissociating and remember what happened to them?

 Well suddenly you get confronted with an actual torture survivor with all the loud, messy, complex mental health problems that implies.

 And if you don’t know a lot about mental health? Then it looks like you went from someone who is calm and ‘at peace’ to someone who is incredibly distressed and obviously in pain. It also means you went from someone biddable and ‘easy to handle/care for’ to someone who is exponentially less likely to put up with shit. Someone who demands explanations, cries hysterically, has panic attacks or flashbacks.

 With that sort of big visceral difference- A culture that doesn’t know how to deal with mental illness might well decide survivors are ‘better off’ in that fugue state.

 Because it would probably be easier to take care of a quiet, unemotional drone then to deal with trying to help someone with severe, complex mental health problems.

 With that kind of cultural background the dementia-like state might actually be the result of the treatment survivors are given. Because they’re ‘better off this way’.

 This would give you a much more traditional recovery arc in your story but by its nature demands a narrative discussion of how mentally ill people are treated by society. Which may not be something you want in the story.

 The other main suggestion I had was to treat this fugue state and this unrealistic depiction of memory loss as if it’s part of the curse itself.

 The cruciatus curse is supposed to be designed to cause the maximum amount of pain, so why not factor lasting generational pain into that? Stripping away important, foundational memories with longer use of the curse seems like it could be an additional terror tactic.

 ‘It doesn’t matter if they survive. It doesn’t matter if you rescue them. You’ll never get them back.’

 In that kind of scenario you’d probably end up with a different recovery arc, one that’s as much about magic as mental health. And I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing when you’re explicitly dealing with something magical.

 If you wanted a plot line involving some kind of magical quest this would be a really good fit. I think it would also work well with a more… straight forwardly heroic story? There’d be less of the cultural and moral arguments that are naturally brought up if you’re talking about cultural attitudes to different medical treatments. It would also be a good pick if you want to lean into the intelligence/research skills of some of the canon characters: a combination of cleverness and compassion resulting in a breakthrough that saves the day.

 I’ll finish off with a short general discussion about writing torture survivors realistically and writing them in fantasy.

 I’ve got a post on the common long term symptoms of torture here. And I’ve got a post on what memory problems look like in survivors here.

 We don’t have a way to predict symptoms. Different individual survivors get different sets of symptoms and we’re not sure why. Because of that variation I think that it’s best to treat symptoms as a writing choice.

 Pick symptoms based on what you think adds to the story and creates interesting narrative opportunities. If a symptom emphasises the themes in your story, creates good opportunities to show the readers something about the characters or makes for interesting conflict then it’s a good choice. Conversely if a particular symptom doesn’t appeal to you or you don’t want to write it for any reason, feel free to choose something different.

 I stress realism and writing survivors realistically. I don’t do that because I think fiction ‘must’ be realistic. I do it because the ways we choose to break with reality matter.

 And right now most of the ways we choose to be unrealistic tacitly support/condone torture.

 The majority of the time that’s not the author’s intention. I certainly don’t think it was Rowling’s intention here. (I’ll admit I haven’t been keeping up with her string of controversies but I don’t think active support for torture was ever among them.)

 But these tropes keep getting repeated. Partly because finding accurate information on torture is hard. It’s difficult to search for. It often costs money. A lot of it just isn’t translated (I’m actually saving up to get a bunch of core texts translated into English when the plague is over.) And oh boy do not get me started on the lack of inter-disciplinary communication because I will go off like an unplanned quench of an NMR’s super magnets.

 These are issues that hamper academic researchers to a huge degree. It’s no wonder they impact non-specialists trying to make sense of this mess.

 Having said all of that: I think that we should make space for metaphor and fantastical elements in our fiction.

 The issue is passing off tropes that are unrealistic and harmful as if they’re fact.

 I have significant issues with portraying torture survivors as passive objects. I think it really hampers general understanding of torture and ethical treatment of survivors today. It encourages people to think that real survivors are ‘faking it’ because they don’t look like the passive objects we see portrayed in fiction.

 That said, if a story explicitly states that what it’s doing is magical and unrealistic, it should be less of an issue.

 I do not think that’s what Rowling did in this particular portrayal. I think she presented a curse that the audience was supposed to read as only causing extreme pain and she linked that to the idea of pain turning people into passive objects. You can remove the magic from this scenario and it’s unmistakably torture apologia.

 But I can imagine alternatives where a fantasy story could separate these things out. It would be hard work and require a lot more focus on the curse itself.

 Say you have a fantasy story that takes one of the non-Western approaches to ideas about human souls. Particularly the idea that our memories and experience constitute a separate spiritual part of ourselves.

 Magic that stole and imprisoned that portion of someone would, by the logic of the magic system, create something a little like this catatonia/late-stage-dementia symptom set Rowling presents. And I think if that was presented, divorced from ideas about pain and what suffering ‘should’ do to people- Well it’s no longer really talking about torture. It’s talking about a fantastical scenario.

 We’re not really used to thinking through the implications of where we break with reality. But it does get easier with practice.

 I hope that helps. :)

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[dreamweavermosseux]

Phoenix 74 1330AE

CW: Violence, ghost rape/assault mention

I left the Grove about a week ago to join Ras in the woods. With Hira's betrayal uncovered, I no longer feel that I can remain in the city safely. I'm unsure if our current situation is safe either, but as long as the necromancer that plagued our hall is at large, we can't return to my dwelling.

For now, Ras and I are occupying a cave tucked away in the forest. It's a remarkably clean one, formed from gray stone. We cover the opening with leaves and other foliage to conceal our presence, which I'm told we can easily break or burn if we need to escape. For food, Ras hunts and I bring back leftovers from the hall and for water, there is a creek not too far. I'm lucky that I can still supply myself from the hall, as living purely off the wilderness would be a very difficult life for me.

Ras is used to it, but he has been exceedingly accommodating to me. He built me a privacy screen and he comforts me at night when I hear the growls of the jungle stalkers or the clicks of the giant spiders. One of the spiders crawled into my bedroll a couple of nights ago. I shrieked so loudly, startled as I was, that it scared the poor thing and it fled. Ras laughed at me. I'm so grateful for him.

There's a story I've been reading to Ras, called Janet and the Wild Tree. Janet is an actress from Divinity's Reach who is dropped into the heart of the Maguuma Jungle when her airship crashes, kind of like the nobles rescued from Verdant Brink. Janet must survive on her own until she meets a handsome but uncouth sylvari named Torbyn, a Pale Reaver who lost his unit. They agree to help one another escape the jungle...

...and that's as far as we've gotten. The author, Gillette Hovens, has likely never met a sylvari in her life. She treats Torbyn and the Pale Reavers like they're exceptions to a pacifist sylvan culture, willing to pick up guns and fight for peace, as if there weren't thousands of sylvan soldiers battling both Mordremoth and Zhaitan. Also, we can't read ten pages without his "carved oaken abs" being mentioned. It's not as if I could forget that he's attractive. That said, I like Janet a lot. She's fun and determined, kicks some tail when she needs to, but she has a vulnerable side where she's been estranged from her parents due to her career choice and she wonders if she'll get to see them again. The plot itself seems very promising too, as far as copper adventure novels go. It's a good escape from the circumstances that have brought Ras and I here.

We finally talked about Ainbertach. How it happened, how Ras felt. The courtiers ambushed Laecin, Gabhar, and him in their home. They drugged Ras and killed Laecin. Gabhar fled. When we talked I was angry at him for leaving Ras and Laecin to suffer, but had he not fled to the Source and told us what happened, we would have been too late to save Ras. So I must forgive Gabhar.

Ainbertach drove stakes through Ras's body and perched Laecin's head upon him. The courtier whispered lies, tried to make Ras into his pet Nightmare monster. He was held in such pain and despair. He would have fallen had we not found him when we did.

Ras asked me if he was weak. He cried as he confessed his pain to me. I've never seen him cry before, not even at Laecin's funeral. My poor mushroom.

I said that I killed Ainbertach. Apparently, I hadn't told Ras that once this past season. It comforted him greatly to know that this sylvari who tormented him so could never do it again. I can't believe I left him guessing this long. Though unintentional, it was cruel.

I need to embrace the fact that I am a being that is capable of killing. I need to remember that I kill to protect life from the people and things that seek to destroy it and who won't be compromised with. I am not evil because I kill. No one is evil because they kill.

It is the reasons why that make us good or evil.

I do not have to like killing. I do not have to embrace it or accept it as the first solution, but I do need to recognize it as a viable and sometimes optimal solution. Like Ainbertach, there are enemies who won't back down until they are dead.

By choosing to stay, I am choosing to fight. I am choosing to protect myself, protect my coworkers, friends, and family, and protect the Grove. I am choosing to suffer for what I believe in, choosing to suffer for waving the banner of Verdance because I believed in our cause.

Sometimes, I'm angry. I didn't break the rules myself. I didn't know until Hira showed up with her cease and desist and Oaken dropped the Sovereign bomb. I didn't do anything except choose the wrong side in the eyes of the law. And if I stay, I must be willing to pay for it.

Twice, I've been asked to stand and suffer. For Ruinali, then for the sanctity of our hall. Twice, I have had to watch others suffer with me. I've had to watch Del bear it until she passed out and recover from a broken arm, hating herself and her perceived uselessness. I've had to watch Poly slip into revenge fantasies as Grom clings to life (luckily, he's been doing much better). I've had to watch Cantair return to us only to lose himself to a fugue state.

And that thing what was it the white mantle spirit it wanted to rape me it wanted to rape us and i couldn't run i couldn't or it would have hurt volaine but i felt its stupid pleasure bullshit with the pain and i hate it i hate it it made me hard it touched me i had to stand there and take it and i hate it im glad its fucking dead or whatever the fuck happens to ghosts rest in godsdamned pieces[The last phrase is scratched into the page hard enough to leave an impression.]

...

At least within the coalition, I don't have to be passive. I won't be passive. If one thing is certain, Sovereign wants us to despair. He wants us to fear him and everyone who works for him. Perhaps he's just like Ainbertach, power-hungry and lecherous, but even if that's not the case, I think that the most powerful thing we can do is deny him what he wants. Ainbertach doesn't get Ras. Sovereign doesn't get our sorrow (and he doesn't get Ras either. Or anyone).

To that end, I must put aside my anger. Until this is over, the chain of command stays and so it is my duty to keep up morale. As we are asked to suffer, I must be there to support everyone, on and off the field.

Yet I know that it can't come only from me.

There will be times when I falter, but I can trust my guildmates. Sadrienne, Bakari, Airia, Lock, Riath and Trisbaine have all shown that. Perhaps...it's alright to be angry?  Just not angry at the coalition. None of us asked for this. We all believed that we were doing the right thing.

...But if it was the right thing, wouldn't the accusations against us be false? No one is denying them. In fact, some confirm them. Likely...the greater good is more complex than I thought.

Or rather, we have to make a choice between ourselves and the greater good. What happened to Rhoeta suggests that. Our Legate for four innocents. I want to trust that Oaken made the right call. Out of context, it's what I would agree with.

But we sent a message to Sovereign, or his associates at least. We said, "We are willing to break ourselves if you measure us against uninvolved lives." Which means that if we're consistent, he gets what he wants. Or if we're not, people die.

I don't know how to handle this scenario, if it repeats. I can't make that kind of call, between two lives or more.

Or maybe it's not that I can't. It's that I won't like what I discover about myself if I do. Like killing, it's the reasons behind the decision that matters.

But it's not a very clear cut decision.

...Unlike Torbyn's abs. Haha.

The best I can determine for now is to follow orders. But if I must make a choice like that myself...

No. That won't happen. Someone will be there. Oaken or a Legate or Bakari or Caem. Someone else more capable. There's always someone.

Our strength lies in unity, after all.