#Lavinia especially fascinates me in that sense

[emotionally-charged-arson]

2am Transitus thoughts since I can’t do fanart right now.

I am THE number one Lavinia apologist, idk what exactly Arjen was doing with her but her being desperate and going to Henry because she wanted the screaming ghosts in her head to stop and Daniel happened to have this dickhead for a brother makes a lot of sense to me.

On the flip side, I have no idea why they threw the “also I’m totally cool with killing my daughter for monetary gain” motivation in there. I’m sorry it makes zero sense to me and I hate the Wicked Stepmother trope as it is.

Why is she married to Abraham in the first place then? What solid reason do Abby and her have to hate each other when Abraham seems like a grounded, reasonable human being he who knows an evil white lady when he sees one? Why does Lavinia, in a conversation WITH HERSELF, say that she regrets what she did to Abby and should go and comfort her after Message From Beyond? Why is the character designed to resemble the “”Gypsy”” archetype a greedy and untrustworthy troublemaker for no genuine reason??

Last point notwithstanding, her motivation in canon just confuses the hell out of me. Through the entire second act she oscillates between a desperate, suffering woman who just wants Daniel to leave her alone that Henry takes advantage of, and a calculating evil witch character that’s just as shitty as Henry himself. Pick a lane, lady.

I have this pile of retcons and headcanons where I just completely got rid of the inheritance-chasing fortune teller persona and made Lavinia’s ability to see Daniel completely spontaneous (though she does have some backstory it makes a little sense for that I completely made up out of thin air, may talk about that later but we’ll see how this post does). The short version is that she’s the same as everyone else. A normal person loves their family, who endures a horrible experience, whose horrible experience is only amplified by their low socioeconomic status, and who is brutally taken advantage of by Henry to a violent end. She did some awful shit but ultimately it comes down to Henry being a manipulative asshole. Lovely.

…but then my aunt bought me this little aesthetic pack of tarot cards last nigtt he and I started reading about the history of this occult stuff in Western countries. And it got me thinking about another way she could be characterized.

I’m not gonna go into a tangent about this but the point is all that divination stuff like tarot cards, ouija, crystal balls etc became popular as novelty in the 1880s and 90s, especially in England and the United States. There were of course occultists who took it seriously but in widespread terms it was sold as what it was today. A harmless little game.

I dunno. Maybe Lavinia got really into that stuff as a hobby and that’s why it’s not weird that Abraham is married to a “”witch.”” Maybe she has it in the back of her head that none of it is real, just a way to kill time and a quirk of her personality.

Then Daniel dies, and she starts seeing spirits. With no genuine explanation. In desperation she associates it with her stuff and tries to talk to him that way, but it’s like Ayreon and his visions. He doesn’t know about Time Telepathy and she doesn’t know about the “crossroads” world Daniel is spending an unusual amount of time in. Little pointless explanations of something far bigger than they can envision.

Abraham doesn’t believe her and thinks it’s just her being way too serious about her occult stuff while he’s busy trying to keep his daughter from regressing any further than she has.

Henry is the only one who will talk to her and go along with her terrified ramblings, not because he believes her but he sees an opportunity in a clearly hysterical woman and she’ll be more cooperative if he pretends all of it is real.

Then she dies, and through it is forcefully disillusioned from her little games even though they’re all she could hold onto for an explanation.

I dunno.

[uncleasad]

I finished Season One of Dickinson earlier this week, and now I have a backlog of thoughts to post… This one—the only one so far in complete prose form—was written on or about January 5.

With Dickinson 1x06, the “cruelty arrow” has finally come to land on Emily herself. And while her intentions were noble—who among us would not wish to be freed of responsibilities in order to spend a few days devoted to our life’s calling?—the way Emily went about this ruse, and especially witnessing her loved ones’ reactions, make her seem callous and selfish, or at least obliviously self-centered.

When it aired in 2019, no one could have understood the gravity of Emily’s (fake) illness, which is ironic since but a year later, in early 2020, everyone would have understood—yellow fever in Emily’s day, like COVID-19 in early 2020, was essentially a death sentence. Today, only 3 years removed, I think many people, particularly those who did not lose someone at that time, neither adequately recall the dire nature of those days nor adequately grasp the deathly seriousness of Emily’s lie. Indeed, while I recognized her lie was when I watched, the full gravity of it did not sink in until much later, when I made the connection (and, mercifully, not having lost someone, I still don’t have the same sense of terrible weight that others would).

Emily’s father’s confession of his drunken affair/one-night stand while betrothed to her mother was one thing, but Mrs Dickinson’s (still casually cruel) reminiscence of early motherhood and lament at soon having to bury a child (one she never wanted, yes) began to show the real harm of Emily’s faking a deadly illness. Austin’s bedside chat, though sad, was a breath of fresh air, because it served to highlight the depth of the sibling bond they share, and his love for his sister, in spite of their “fight” for Sue’s affections.

But it was Sue’s return to Amherst, distraught at the likely loss of yet another person she loves—the person she loves the most in this world, perhaps—that really hammered Emily’s cruelty home. Knowing that Sue had lost everyone she’d loved, how could Emily have stooped so low to have faked such a sickness? (How long had Emily been faking this illness? And how fast does mail get from Amherst to Boston? I can believe Sue could make it back to Amherst the day after receiving Emily’s letter, but I cannot believe Emily wrote and mailed the letter the day the episode opened, it got to Boston, and Sue was back the very next day.)

I’m somewhat hopeful that Sue’s words resonated with Emily and that, combined with Austin’s confessions about the nature of his love for Sue the night before, prompted Emily to realize how selfish she’s been and “urge” (with eye contact and a nod and a lifetime of shared history between them) Sue to say she’d come back for Austin.

I enjoyed the B-plot with Emily’s “new George”—Edward’s new law clerk, Ben—who like George has shared literary interests with Emily and encourages her wilder notions—perhaps more so than even George, as the night swim shows. (Edward has let another fox into the hen house!) Unlike George, Ben seems (so far) far more understanding of Emily’s situation and desires—although I do not fully trust him, no matter how sweet his story about his father’s wedding ring is….

In the C-plot, was I the only one to think that Lavinia’s dress looked reminiscent of Emma Watson’s as Belle? And with her…wild-haired…cat, it was to be a portrait of Beauty and the Beast? (No? Just me? OK, well, we all know my mind works in a bizarre manner 😂) It was heartening to see that she took the portraitist’s words to heart, however, and began trying to draw herself as she wished to be seen—a nude self-portrait in front of a mirror is a fascinating concept. And…also interesting that Lavinia did not make a bedside visit to Emily…

[astynomi]

Hello friend have you read Lavinia by Ursula Le Guin? I loved everything about it

Hello! I have! I enjoyed it, and it’s a really good book, but I wasn’t overly keen on the meta-literary aspect of it, I mean the way Lavinia is aware she’s a product of Virgil’s imagination and has conversations with him. It seemed a strange artistic choice. It would have been unusual if we had a good choice of fiction based on the Aeneid, but we don’t. I think Le Guin wanted to ‘give a voice’ to a character that is silent in the Aeneid, but it didn’t have to be a book about that silence. 

Maybe I’m being unfair, because it isn’t Le Guin’s fault that it was the first mainstream novel dealing with a character from the Aeneid, and what she did certainly worked in its own right, but I would like to be able to read ‘Lavinia’s story’ without any reference to it being a story. I have a detailed-ish characterisation of Virgil’s Lavinia in my head and where it differed from Le Guin’s, it was mostly because of that issue with her fictionality or not. 

I think where I was most perplexed was in the passages that feature Aeneas. I couldn’t figure out how Le Guin/Lavinia was characterising Aeneas: he seemed flat, and the main relationship in the poem was between Lavinia and Virgil. I don’t know if this was because Le Guin was trying to do to Aeneas what she thought Virgil did to Lavinia. But even though Virgil’s Lavinia is silent, her appearance in the twelfth book really stood out to me when I first read the poem (I think I was 16 or 17). 

I always overlooked Lavinia slightly because I disliked her mother, Amata, so much. Queen Amata begs Turnus not to fight Aeneas, because she won’t have Aeneas as her son-in-law, and indeed when Aeneas looks set to win, Amata commits suicide. It is never intimated that this is because she won’t see her daughter suffer under Aeneas; it’s even suggested that she loves Turnus; I don’t know how a mother, thinking her daughter will suffer (married to Aeneas), would abandon her by committing suicide.

When Amata begs Turnus not to fight Aeneas, Lavinia is described as weeping and blushing fiercely. This sets Turnus’ heart on fire with love for her, etc. etc. The distinguished critic R. O. A. M. Lyne wrote an article about this (called ‘Lavinia’s Blush’, for those of you who have access to JSTOR) stating quite confidently that he feels Lavinia is in love with Turnus, and it is so understated because it would be quite damning for the wife of the founder of Rome to have been in love with another man. Lyne thinks it’s nonetheless in keeping with Virgil’s style, and I’m inclined to agree there. But Lavinia’s feelings must be more complex - else why not allow us to conclude that Amata is acting in her daughter’s interests? I don’t know of a mythical mother who would allow, let alone cause a war, so her daughter could marry for love in defiance of an oracle; that would be interesting in itself, and I suppose it’s reasonable that Amata would kick up a fuss to save Lavinia from the embarrassment of doing so; but then to have her commit suicide doesn’t chime with that interpretation - it seems to be about her own refusal to treat Aeneas as a son.

I think Virgil has given enough details to construct a potentially fascinating dynamic between Aeneas and Lavinia - a point in common, that puts them on an equal footing in a way (especially since it’s implied that Turnus and Lavinia are similar in age, while Aeneas is up to 20 years older). For me this was ruined by Lavinia’s constant awareness that she ‘wouldn’t exist without Virgil’. The scenes at the beginning of the novel are tinged with Lavinia’s sense that Aeneas would be taken from her in three years; Lavinia seems quite in awe of Aeneas, and Aeneas is inscrutable. It didn’t seem like an equal relationship.

For anyone who has read the Aeneid before Lavinia, the interpretation of her blush is the most interesting question raised about Lavinia. I don’t remember the novel that well, but I left it feeling the question was still open.

[londontheatre]

Think about the many plays out there that are about gay men. If I asked you to name any that were about men over the age of fifty, how many could you think of? Not many I bet. Well the good news is, that playwright Nathan Evans has added another to the list with his latest work Swansong which was recently presented as a staged reading as part of the Queer Festival at the King’s Head Theatre

In a very nice retirement home, Deputy Manager Craig (Alexis Gregory) is welcoming a new inmate, sorry, service user. Joan (Lavinia Co-op) is not the average person in the home. He is an unrepentant queer man in glossy lipstick and flamboyant clothing. Joan is a real trouper, a veteran of the days when homosexuality was illegal and at a Pride march the police outnumbered the marchers and joined along with the homophobic chanting of the local yobs. In some ways, for Joan, those days have never ended and he gets irritated by Craig’s settled married life, accusing him of heteronormativity as if he was involved in some dirty practices. The room next to Joan’s is inhabited by Jim (John Atterbury) a retired civil servant who believes he is only staying at the home temporarily until he finds a new job. So, there you have it, Craig, loving his job and wondering about his life and Jim, who enjoys a quiet life and is looking to the future. Can these two cope with the whirlwind that will enter their lives in the shape of Joan, feisty and always on the lookout for the next fight.

This was my first experience of a staged reading, and the first thing I have to say is that I never realised how much I want to be a director. This is something I’ve never thought of before and I’m putting it to the combination of excellent writing and a great cast that pulled me into the story so well. And it reflects the reality of life today for a lot of elderly gay men.

There has recently been an increase in interest in the lives of older gay people and especially those in supported housing and nursing homes, where a large percentage go back into the closet once they move in. I loved the fact that this was something that was never going to happen to Joan. To be honest, with Lavinia Co-op’s wonderful performance, there was never going to be a closet big enough for Joan to go into. Joan is a fascinating character. Today’s gay men have no real idea of the constant battles that Joan and his ilk fought for the next generation. The problem, I think for Joan, and people of his generation is that the fight for acceptance became all-consuming and now, they cannot relax enough to savour the fruits of their victories. For Joan, the Stonewall slogan of ‘so much achieved, so much more to do’ is his mantra and, as such when offered friendship and even love, he has trouble accepting it. Jim is as different to Joan as it is possible to be. Without giving away any spoilers, Jim has his own battles to fight and his ultimate friendship with Joan is a lovely step on the road to resolving them. Craig, ostensibly a happily married young gay man, seemed less sure of himself than Joan – to be fair, I think most people would be – and his admiration and exasperation for Joan really shone through wonderfully. As did his obvious love of his job and affection for Jim. But in the background, there was a sense that Craig actually envied Joan and his life. There was an interesting point when Craig told Joan – and I’m paraphrasing here – to relax, the war was won. A really interesting idea that many, both gay and heterosexual seem to believe.

The three actors brought their characters to life so well. John Atterbury as Jim was the epitome of a man of that age. When I first saw him, my mind went immediately to my grandfather, who until very late in life, always went about smartly dressed – if going out of the house then a tie and jacket were essential. In looks, bearing and talk, Jim was definitely a product of the same education and employment of so many men of his age. Alexis Gregory was a joy to watch as Craig. Alexis puts a lot into his face and, even when reading from a script, he still managed to give the audience Craig’s thoughts without necessarily saying anything. As for Lavinia Co-op, well he was perfect as Joan. In fact, it felt as if he had literally just walked off the street and into the show. Every movement was perfect and his vocal tones had that wonderful quality of adding so much to the written word so that nobody missed the meaning of what was being said.

The production itself was really well put on, with some extremely good and very moving effects used to highlight the story. I’m not ashamed to say that at the end of the show, there was not a dry eye anywhere along my row of seats. As the lights came up and the audience left, all the talk was of how marvelous Swansong had been. At the end, I felt emotionally drained and so wanted to get hold of the playtext and read it again.

As this was a staged reading, I’m not going to give any stars but I am really looking forward to seeing the finished production performed. Whenever it is, I confidently predict a crying audience, standing ovations, and excellent reviews for what is a really beautiful and emotional story with a strong message that comes straight from the heart.

Review by Terry Eastham

On the fiftieth anniversary of the decriminalisation of homosexuality, Joan – a veteran of Gay Lib and no stranger to conflict – dons battle dress with relish, seeking an ally in the young, gay but disappointingly conventional care assistant Craig for his attempt to overturn the heteronormativity of the care system. Then, in this most unlikely of settings, at this most unlikely time of life, Joan is offered love by Jim, another gentleman resident. But can Joan bring himself to accept Jim’s proposal? Cue wedding bells…

Nathan says, ‘This a story that’s not been told: we’ve seen stories aplenty of young gay love and stories, recently, about mature straight love, but gay love in the care home…? It’s about bloody time. This is also a story that’s very now – reflecting changes in marriage legislation and our ageing population – among them some of the men and women who began the fight for rights five decades back and are now facing further battles with infirmity and isolation.’

Nathan Evans’ work in film and theatre has been broadcast by Channel 4, funded by the Arts Council, toured by the British Council, archived by the British Film Institute, won awards at the London Short Film Festival and been performed at venues including Royal Court, Royal Festival Hall, Royal Vauxhall Tavern, Soho, Chelsea Traverse & Contact Theatres, ICA, BAC, Pleasance, Speigeltent, Latitude, Aldeburgh & Glastonbury Festivals. nathanevans.co.uk

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