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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 4 months

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Y'all wanna know about a gender-non-conforming knight from 13th century France? No? That's okay- I'm fine with talking to myself.

I'm obsessed with gender performativity in early medieval texts- so obviously I had to know everything about Le Roman De Silence.

To preface-

So, long before there was the Marvel Cinematic Universe- there was the interconnected works of the Arthurian Legends. The original superheroes- King Arthur, Merlin, Morganna le Fey, and the rest of the cast. However, one of the lesser known (only arguably canonical) interconnected texts of the Arthurian legend hails from France. People argue over whether or not to include these texts as part of the cannon of King Arthur because it's technically french- and the french-english divide between characterization of all the main players of Arthur's court is remarkably different. Much research on this suggests the discrepancy of characterization is largely due to distance between where the stories originate, and sociopolitical tensions between the French and the English. Either people were too far apart to share stories- thus too far apart to keep characterization uniform, or they fucking hated each other enough to mess up the characterization on purpose. For example, many of the French portrayals of King Arthur paint him to be a rather terrible person, where English portrayals are generally more kind to him.

All that aside- many people will disagree that Le Roman de Silence should even be part of the Arthurian legend canon anyway- because it only mentions Merlin at the end of the poem and because it's a super french poem.

The main storyline is about this character named Silence. From the Old French Poem- Le Roman de Silence.

Gender? No- Never heard of it.

The latter half of the story in this poem is predicated on a complex mediation of Nature vs Nurture. What happens is that a baby is born into a wealthy family, and for sociopolitical reasons, the family decides to raise the girl baby as a boy. They name this child "silence." Silence grows up with full access to an education, as was typical for the boy children of aristocratic medieval families- this education becomes important later as Silence wrestle with where they fit into the larger social structure after maturing into adulthood. Essentially, they find the idea of marriage too boring and would like to be a Knight or Explorer instead. (I love them.) Anyway, it's fascinating to me that the conceptual ideas of nature and nurture are personified into being something like "deities" which are overseeing the growth of Silence through the ages- and so we get these deities commentary.

Silence wants to be a knight- so Nurture brags about being right that gender is more performative than it is biological. Then, later Silence grows up to be remarkably "pretty" and according to the deity of Nature- they brag about being right that biology and gender are intrinsically tied. It's such a thought-provoking mediation on gender as either performance or pure biology that I forget it was written in the 13th century- long before Freud or Lacan or any of the others who became hyper fixated on human presumption of gender as either a social category or a biological necessity.

I argued in a paper, once, that the narrative itself does actually finally end on the note that Gender is a performance, and it is tied into social roles only so the ruling class can have control of the population. That is why the stories ending shifts into horror-genre-esque of Silence marrying into the upper-ruling class.

I also have a strong urge to write a Fanfiction of Silence as a knight- who does not meet a sad fate but rather lives happily as a knight and eventually marries a princess. Okay- Okay? fine I said it. I said it-

Social pressure to marry?

The story takes a dark turn, however- when the King demands Silence to reveal themselves in front of the court. Obviously, even the author of the story was aware that misogynistic social standards would not allow for people to ever really be free of gender stereotypes and roles. So, Silence is then forced out of the adventurous lifestyle of a knight and into a marriage. Also, this is the place in the story where Merlin makes an appearance (I have a theory that Merlin is representative of the devil, and the author really hated that all AFAB people were forced into marriage back in 1200's. So that's why the devil shows up when all the bad shit is happening to Silence).

Inevitability and dismay-

What I find particularly interesting about this poem is the fact that the end, as Silence is forced into marriage and back into "proper" social roles for their assumed biological characteristics, is the fact that it is written like an early attempt at gothic horror!

So, one of the stipulations for something being a "gothic horror" is 1.) old, archaic, twisted buildings. (this blog is indeed named after my fixation with gothic horror elements, it's interplay relation to social reform, as its emphasis on decay as the tonal necessity for social indemnification). Anyway, the other most important aspect of gothic horror- is an overwhelming sense of desolation, isolation, and loneliness.

Sure, Silence is forced into marriage- but even with the forthright writing style of the author, we, as readers, are struck by Silence's loneliness. Thus, the "happily ever after" part of the storyline wherein the characters get married, as it traditional to chivalric romance, is recriminated against in subtext. Now, we have a moment in which the "happily ever after" is a creation of horror rather than peace.

Ending the narrative with marriage as equivalent to a loss of freedom and a sense of evermore-present loneliness, cumulating in the edifice of horror-struck fear in Silence at their own new future, is a remarkably bold social statement coming from a 13th century author.

I just think it's a really interesting text on the thematic points of negotiating Gender identity, in broader terms of performance and social roles, as much as it is a critique on the total social control that the monarchy held over the people of 13th century France.

Edit: I need to add that Silence themselves consistently rejects the idea that they are AFAB and instead only ever refers to themselves as "Silence" or "the knight"

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that-ari-blogger · 4 months

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Nothing To See Here (Knock, Knock, Knockin' On Hooty's Door)

Every story has that one character. The Tom Bombadil, if you will, the one who is mostly irrelevant to the plot and functions as a kind of in joke. In The Owl House, this is Hooty, and yes, I am aware of how many people I annoyed by linking such a seminal work of fiction with a The Lord of the Rings. (Go on, disagree, boost my numbers, I dare you)

Some series even devote an entire episode to this joke character and their antics. This usually involves clowning around and comedy to balance out the heavy feels of the rest of the series, and rarely furthers the plot in any way.

Knock, Knock, Knockin’ On Hooty’s Door is this episode. It’s a fun romp with the cast of The Owl House, and nothing important happens.

Nope. Nothing at all. No sir. That would be crazy.

Who am I kidding? This episode is the linchpin of the series and will be studied for years to come.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (The Owl House, Legends Of Runeterra, One Piece: Whole Cake Island)

The Owl House should have pacing issues, and “should” is the operative word there, because it doesn’t, really.

The series is trying to balance out themes of family, acceptance, identity, and freedom. As well as a ton of key arcs. Eda, King, and Luz, each have two, if you squint, as well as the overarching conflict with Belos.

Eda has her struggles with the Owl Beast curse and her need to protect; King has his seeking of identity and the search for his father; and Luz is juggling her romance with Amity with a quest for the way home.

Including Belos, that’s seven arcs that The Owl House is trying to explore. Add in Hunter’s whole thing and we round up to eight, a nice even number.

This is an extraordinary number of plot threads for a season of television to handle, and get the feeling that most of these were planned for the hypothetical season three.

But people who treat art as a product that can be manufactured and sold made decisions, and for some reason, those people sit in high positions in institutions that make art, so The Owl House’s third season got canned.

So… why isn’t season two crippled by pacing that tries to bite off more than it can chew?

This shot is a joke. It is a fraction of a second's long bit that doesn't come up again. They didn't need to put this much effort into it, but they did. There's even a Dutch angle to emphasise King's shock.

Well, because Knock, Knock, Knockin’ On Hooty’s Door discusses six of these arcs. If you’re keeping track, that’s most of the series getting developed in a single episode.

I’m not going to pretend that this episode is perfect. Personally, I read it as ambitious and barely managing to hold itself together. The fact that this episode works at all is astonishing, so I’ll let it go on the minour details.

But I can’t deny that this episode walks so that everything after can fly. The show doesn’t feel constrained because this episode takes all of the burden.

Starting with the fact that this episode joins its themes rather well. Luz can’t work out the thing with the mouse because her mind is set on Amity, Eda is held back in her magical abilities because the curse, and King… well, I’ll get back to King.

The episode streamlines the entire series into manageable chunks, offering one arc as a pseudo reward for completing another. For example, Luz getting together with Amity allows her to speak with the mouse.

Before I discuss the nitty gritty of the plot, I do want to clarify something here. I’ve seen a ton of people say that Hooty is the perfect wingman and point to this episode. And, no. No, he’s really not. In my opinion, that’s kinda the point.

This is something that I like to call the Cyberpunk Dilema, in which the rule of cool affects the audience perception. Audiences will look at something that is entertaining to watch or funny and say, “I’d like to do that”, and miss out on the fact that it doesn’t go well.

Case and point, Hooty screws up being a wingman so badly that he pushes people into character development by accident. Hooty isn’t good at this, he’s just endearing.

Anyway, even with the condensation of the plot, this episode has three storylines, so talking in overarching terms can only get you so far. So, allow me to get into those.

A screencap can't really do the dream transition justice. The music is eerie and unnatural and, at least to me, evokes the memory sequences from the Galbraith books, or rather, the film versions of them.

Eda gets a dream sequence, and as is the usual for such things, it gets weird. The audience sees the curse ruining Eda’s life repeatedly. We see her greatest shames, the attack against her father, and the inability to talk to Raine.

I think it’s interesting that these two actions contrast each other. Eda’s father could have known better than to set off a party popper that close to a daughter he was aware would have such an effect. That was a predictable occurrence, and I blame him almost entirely for it.

The think with Raine, however, is mostly Eda’s fault, and she says so in the moment.

“Just tell them, let them help.”

I also want to throw some shade at Gwendolyn and Lilith here, as well as the Boiling Isles as a whole, because Eda has absolutely zero healthy coping mechanisms. I’m not talking about the curse here; I’m talking about in the entirety of her life. She never learned how to deal with anything except by running. Or rather, she didn’t, until Luz rocked up.

Eda needed someone to help her and inspire her to be better, as well as being willing to hold her up when she is feeling low. Her mother didn’t offer her that, her sister caused the problems, and Raine tried, but got pushed away.

I think these two moments in Eda’s memory guide her every move. Both as things she wants desperately to never do again. She tries to control the curse because it hurt her father, and she takes in Luz and lets her get close because she’s determined to never push anyone away again.

We’ll see how well those two resolutions go over the course of the series, but for now, she’s getting better.

Do we not wanna talk about this? Eda meets the collector before everyone else, and doesn't even ask them about the Owl Beast. This could have been such a cool episode later on down the line.

The we get this scene, which was blatantly set up for a much longer season three, but ho hum. This sequence talks about the history of the owl beast, and has some brilliant Icarus imagery, serving to humanise the creature.

Icarus famously drowned. More accurately, he aggressively discovered surface tension. But for those who don’t know, Icarus was the son of the inventor Daedalus, who made wings for them both to escape a tower. Icarus flew too close to the sun, and his wings melted, causing him to fall.

As such, the owl beast has themes of freedom, as well as the limits of oneself. Notice how those are both things that Eda deals with on a regular basis.

But yes, the obvious, Eda is accepting her otherness and deciding to stop fighting it and work around it. It is a part of who she is, and its not something worth destroying herself to “fix”.

You could read this as a queer metaphor, or a discussion of disability or neurodivergence. I don’t have a disability, so I can’t really comment on that, but I recommend checking out the opinions and readings of those who do and who have thoughts. @oakwyrm has several videos on the subject that I personally found rather enlightening.

I do want to talk about the aurora imagery here, because on one hand, its an excuse for the animators to make something genuinely beautiful, but on the other, this is a blog about analysis, and I want to dissect as much as I can.

The world fades out, rupturing as it fulfils its purpose, leaving Eda curled around the now much smaller curse, protecting it like a mother protecting a child.

The aurora itself symbolises hope and renewal, derived from the Greek word for sunrise and the deity who was the sister of the sun, according to space.com. But it’s also the colour from the greyscale beach returning.

Which leads me to Harpy Eda, and holy moly is that a character design.

Harpies are weirdly dynamic mythological creatures, varying in appearance and thematic and powers across ancient Greece and a few close neighbours. This is usually what happens when a myth has either had time to drift, meaning it’s a holdover from a much older civilisation and mythology, or one on a trade rout. Harpies have a habit of pestering sailors, so I’ll let you guess which answer I think is more accurate.

I want to stress that I am talking about usual situations, it is possible that these Harpy myths sprung up due to a common stimulus, like birds that could mimic speech or something similar.

Ovid was also involved in evolution of the myth, and he was known for making stuff up as he went along, so there’s that.

In any case, Harpy Eda is a form that allows Eda control over her life, it gives her agency, and the wings that are a universal symbol of freedom. This is a person who can now go anywhere she wants. Combine that with the owl’s wisdom affiliations, and you get a symbol of power and a statement piece. Eda, when she has fully accepted herself, can do anything.

King is looking for the missing piece of himself, so he stands in front of an incomplete hole. I'm definitely clutching at straws with this one, but

King meanwhile is going through a bildungsroman at a truly unsafe pace. For context, a bildungsroman is a coming of age story (technically, it’s a book, but I think that’s dumb), and part of that is working out who you are. Growing up means being given the freedom to choose, but none of the experience to make that choice educated. It’s telling you to pick two options, but not explaining what they are.

"I thought you had real answers."

No buddy. No-one has real answers like that, because they don't exist. I'm religious, and I don't have a clue either. Everyone else is making it up as they go along, buddy, same as you.

Also, Alex Hirsch needs a raise for the delivery of everything in this episode, especially this line.

Then there is the stock advice that always annoyed me. “Be who you are.” It’s helpful at face value, but it doesn’t mean anything when you think about it. If you don’t know who you are or who you want to be, being yourself is really difficult.

“I don’t need you to tell me to love myself, Hooty. I want to know where I came from. What my dad looked like. What I’ll look like when I grow up. I don’t have any responses to my video yet, or my wanted posters. Maybe my dad is gone. Maybe there’s no one else like me. And maybe I’ll live my whole life without any answers.” “No! I didn’t want top make you mad.” “Well I am mad. At him, for not being here. He left me ALONE!”

Do I really need to explain this? King is forced by Hooty’s ineptitude and his own bottled-up emotions to actually say what he thinks and what he wants. He’s a comedy character who has dropped the joke and needs to release that energy that he has built up.

Enter the roar, a power gained by reaching an understanding of oneself. Hooty and King were trying to ascertain what King was by focusing on the superficial. What type of creature is he? What can he be categorised as?

Hooty’s stock responses are designed to be aggravating, because they don’t work on an individual level. What King needed to work out was that he wanted to understand himself as a person rather than a thing. Who is King?

For the moment, that answer is “complicated”, in a way that he isn’t quite ready to be yet.

If you pause at this specific frame, the background resembles the bisexual pride flag. I'm telling you there are queer undercurrents in this series. It's not obvious, but it's there. I'm not crazy.

Finally, let’s address Lumity, and I’m going to begin that by not talking about Lumity at all and instead the concept of shipping as a whole and what makes a good ship to me.

I think it is important to understand that fiction and reality are two different things, and so ships and actual relationships need to be judged on different terms.

A ship, first and foremost, needs to be compelling, and interesting to watch. A real relationship needs to be healthy. This is why I think that the Stolas x Blitz storyline in Helluva Boss is a good ship but would be genuinely awful if these were real people.

Yes, there is a discussion to be had about what is presented as good and bad in fiction, but I trust you to have enough media literacy to differentiate the fantastical from the grounded.

So, what then makes a good ship?

Well, to me, a good ship is compelling and inspires stories on its own. A good ship isn’t merely a reward for completing the plot, or an “x and y have a cute dynamic” or even an “x and y both have ice powers”.

Once again, I am talking about my opinions here. If you like to ship characters because they have the same colour palate or something, that’s great, go for it. There are no rules, don't let people tell you how to enjoy a story. This is simply what I like to read and write about.

This is the basis of some of my favourite ships in fiction, Leona and Diana from Legends of Runeterra, Zoro and Sanji from One Piece, and Luz and Amity from The Owl House.

Leona and Diana are the two aspects of the sun and moon and have an on-off romantic relationship. This is strained by religious zealotry and indoctrination, which gives it that tragic air. But this ship also lends weight to their conflict and could have the power to sway Leona into doing the right thing.

Zosan is more complicated and needs some explaining. It’s a fan ship and it relates to the two secondhand men of the Strawhat crew. Sanji is brash and emotional; Zoro is calm and stoic. Sanji is a nerd; Zoro is an idiot. Sanji is well put together; Zoro is a mess.

The story comes from what they do for each other, because Zoro is, in a weird way, Sanji but better. I don’t mean this in a character standpoint, I mean this from the perspective of stability. Zoro is protective without being suicidal. He is affected by loss, but he’s motivated by it rather than being scared. He is calm, he can survive. Zoro is the rock that Sanji can use to secure himself.

Sanji has been traumatised to hell and back, and he needs a way of letting his emotions out in a healthy way. He needs to shout and scream and cry, and Zoro, by being that rock who can take anything Sanji does, becomes the constant.

The above image is part of a comic by @dog-politics, and it shows my point. Sanji holding onto Zoro with tears running down his face while Zoro holds him.

I also want to point out that in this comic, Sanji is crying because Zoro is offering him affection, and he doesn’t know whether he likes it or not. He’s not used to receiving any affection at all.

But, what does Zoro see in Sanji? I give you @tea917339 and this post right here.

Zoro sees a type of hope in Sanji that he only saw one other place. Sanji reminds Zoro of Kuina, the one who inspired his own journey, and it tells him that it wasn’t the person who drives him, but her spirit, and he can see it even more so here.

Sanji’s spirit should be broken a million times over, and that’s how he presents, as a buffoon for whom romance is the only thing left in his life. But this comic shows Zoro that there is more going on beneath the surface, and that Sanji’s force of will is eternal.

Caitlin Seida’s poem, Hope Is Not a Bird, Emily, It’s A Sewer Rat, describes optimism, joy, and perseverance as diseases that hope can give you. The poem doesn’t do witty wordplay or fancy forms, it’s blunt and raw, and it should be the calling card of the Zosan ship.

Lumity follows this formula, at least to me. Amity and Luz compliment each other and the ship makes the series more interesting by provoking stories. Most notably, the story of Amity being inspired by Luz to be a better person and to come into conflict with her family.

Luz shines a way for people, and she guides Amity towards happiness. Shenaniganry ensues then as Amity tries to work out what she values more, and what she is willing to sacrifice to keep the affection.

However, Luz’ angle of this has been relatively ambiguous, until now. Remember what I said about this episode streamlining things? Well, it also does that with Luz.

Luz main flaw is in direct conflict with her greatest strength. She is original and unique, and defies definition. But she also wants the world around her to fit her expected storyline. She’s a perfectionist of plot.

This is also Belos’ main flaw as well, you may notice. He wants the world to fit his expectations. But Belos can only understand life through the lens of conformity. Either he will change to fit it, or the world must change to fit him. Luz starts with a similar mindset, but spends the series learning to accept the world and herself the way they are and let them exist peacefully.

From that angle, the story proposes its definition of good and evil as relative to how much a character is willing to learn and accept, which is a neat benchmark.

The story overall has been teaching Luz to accept the world , but Amity teaches her to accept herself.

The date goes poorly. I cannot stress this enough, you don’t want Hooty as your wingman. But it also goes badly because Luz wants it to be perfect, she wants top try and compensate for her perceived flaws and hide things about herself that she deems unworthy.

Amity, however, has fallen for Luz in her entirety, good and bad. That kind of affection is what drives Luz to see herself in a new light, and it’s a core tenet of the story’s themes.

So, the fact that the actual asking out on a date is so awkward is the point. It’s not perfect, because neither of these characters are perfect, and that’s more than ok.

The animation builds up to the question really well, keeping the tension high and then undercutting it for the sake of humour and catharsis. Because was Amity really going to say no?

You’ve got so deep in Luz’s muddled thoughts that you miss what she is thinking about. Obviously, Amity would say yes, anyone could see that.

If you want a clear metaphor for this, the floor shifts as Hooty carves a hole in it, and Luz and Amity find themselves on rocky ground. They don’t understand where they stand in relation to each other, but then the camera pans out and they were standing in a heart the entire time. These two were dropped into a relationship. They tumbled into affection. They fell in love.

Before I finish up, I want to do something weird and discus the title of the episode. Because this episode, Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door, is a play on Bob Dylan’s 1973 song, Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, coverd by Guns and Roses in 1991.

Mama, take this badge from me I can't use it anymore It's gettin' dark, too dark to see Feels like I'm knockin' on heaven's door

The song is about redemption and looking back at ones’ life to decide where to go now. It’s a sad song, and a weird fit in tone for the series, but it is a really good turning point for the story and its ideas.

From here on out The Owl House doesn’t slow down and doesn’t pull any punches. This show has finally worked out who it wants to be, and so the reference to the song says there is no turning back now. The fun hijinks are still here, but now we get serious.

The episode closes arcs and sends the plot in a new direction as characters decide what to do. It is a turning point in the series.

The title also implies that Hooty and by extension the Owl House itself are heavenly in some form or another, which squares strangely well with Lilith’s letter at the start.

“Hello, Hootsifer. Your letter concerned me. You write of feeling unimportant while Luz, Eda, and King are off on adventures. But Hooty, you are the Owl House. You take care of everyone inside you. If that isn’t a worthy purpose, then what is?”

The Owl House is a place of sanctuary. Where people can go to be themselves. It is a place of freedom. It is the promised land.

The Owl House those who look upon it, and so does the series that takes its name.

This guy looks important, I wonder if he'll come up again.

Final Thoughts

Like I said, boring. Nothing happens in this episode, nothing at all.

In all honesty, this episode is seriously impressive. It’s bloated, yes. It has a pacing issue, yes. Some of the jokes don’t land, yes. But oh my G-d, this episode carries the show, and that’s not even a hot take.

King’s Tide, Hollow Mind, and Watching And Dreaming don’t stand on the shoulders of giants, they stand on the non-existent shoulders of Hooty.

Next week, I’ll be looking at Eclipse Lake, which has Hunter in it, and I swear, if anything happens to my precious boi, there will be hell to pay.

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