#Milo Eberstark

[motherhenna]

Omg could I hear a little bit about post-war Milo and maybe the specifics about him initially getting together with kerza? He's my favorite character :)

aw yay that makes me happy! :D I’ve developed his post-war personality a lot more since the original draft, though because I’m not even close to actually writing that part in the new one, it’s still very much a conceptual WIP. What I can say is that, while it’s hard enough being a soldier as it is, Milo had to deal with #1: an elder brother dying in combat, #2: being conscripted into a war he didn’t support, #3: losing a limb and #4: surviving the often-brutal conditions of a Russian POW camp. All this, on top of coming to terms with being on the losing side of history, is a lot for anyone to handle, let alone a 17-18 year old kid. Thus, when he finally does make it home, he’s not met with the support he needs from the world at large, but rather hatred and distrust–not unlike those coming back from Vietnam back in the 60s-70s. 

Essentially, this culminates into a nasty case of PTSD for Milo, who had already been uncomfortable with confronting / dealing with negative emotions even before everything went to shit. Though he’s eventually able to function “normally” again, it’s in a town and a country that’s completely shattered, thus leaving him unable to escape from what he’s lost. Plus, having lost a leg encumbers the physical labor he’d once enjoyed, leaving him with limited job prospects. All of the above will be illustrated in the post-war section of the novel (much longer than in the original draft), though most of the following will be a lot more condensed.

ANYWAY I realize that this is all super depressing and I’m sure you weren’t asking about these aspects specifically–but I have put to it into context, because it plays such a huge role in his relationship to Kerza after the war. 

So with all this in mind, Milo isn’t in a good place in 1945 and ensuing years. While Kerza is initially no better, she’s very much a survivor in almost every sense of the word. Though traumatized, Kerza is significantly more adept at introspection and expressing herself emotionally than Milo is – partially because it’s just her personality, but also because her social status as a woman allows her more room to be vulnerable. Furthermore, having lost nearly all of her connections to her home town and having never shared Milo’s fear of change, she is able to physically “move on”  (i.e., leave town and eventually the country itself) while he remains stuck in the same destructive cycle. 

Though their shared suffering gives them common ground, the traumas themselves as well as their ways of dealing with it are very different. This begins to strain their friendship, as Milo feels increasingly resentful when confronted with Kerza’s desire to escape Germany, while Kerza feels suffocated by Milo’s inability to come to terms with post-war realities. So while their love for each other never ebbs, what that had once endeared themselves to each other is eventually twisted into something toxic and dysfunctional. 

By 1946, Kerza realizes how much they’re hurting each other, and makes the decision to distance herself for awhile, which first takes the form of moving with Aunt Kitty and Daniel out of her old home and into a flat in Bonn. Here, she studies independently and eventually passes her secondary school exams. This makes Milo feel all the more abandoned, though Kerza still comes to see him often and even manages to drag him up river to visit once or twice. So when she makes the decision to travel indefinitely in 47, they break into a huge, ongoing row that eventually culminates in a very long period of static between the two. Though she sends him occasional postcards from Greece and America, they basically don’t speak to each other for a year, during which Kerza is offered the scholarship in Dublin and accepts. 

Neither of them are happy about their separation, and it becomes clear that they have a case of “can’t live or without”. So when Kerza finally visits the Eberstarks for Christmas at the end of 1947, Milo is quite ecstatic to see her and the two share in a period of nostalgic amity. However, things quickly crumble back into the negative patterns that had plagued them before, and they part ways on sour terms when she returns to Dublin after New Years.

However, after another few months of silence, it’s actually Milo who caves first, and impulsively calls her on the number she had left for him, though one of her flat mates answers instead. Even though he panics and hangs up before giving any details, Kerza quickly realizes that it’s him and reaches out in kind. They begin writing letters to each other and talking on the telephone almost weekly, and Kerza soon entreats Milo to come visit her and see Ireland for himself. He responds with extreme reluctance, as he has nary set foot beyond the Rhineland district, let alone the country, outside of military service, and knew only broken English. He also fears the brunt of the inevitable prejudice held against Germans at the time, especially from those in the UK. Still, Kerza tells him that the Irish resent the Brits and French nearly as much as she, thus helping her feel a bit more at home. 

Milo declines her invitations for quite awhile, though practices English in his spare time – just in case. Language acquisition proves to be challenging for him because of his severe dyslexia, but this hobby provides him with the much needed mental stimulation that he was unable to acquire elsewhere. His most effective strategy is through music, and he manages to acquires quite a lot of English / American records and sheet music for this purpose, as he’s always loved playing piano and teaching himself new songs. Though he still drinks too much and often lapses into periods of depression, his family notices the positive change in Milo: they encourage him to go to Dublin, if only for a weekend, and stress how much it would mean to Kerza. However, he is unable to overcome his anxiety about traveling until Kerza’s final year of University, when he at last finds it in himself to hop on a ferry to Ireland and surprise her for her birthday. 

If you want to hear more, let me know! I feel like I’ve practically written another novel right here lmao

[motherhenna]

Okay def wanna know more about milo and kerza and dublin. How were they able to overcome or work thru the dysfunction to actually end up married and everything? Like you say milo changed a bit for the better but how did kerza change?

One thing I’d like to explore if I ever actually turned their post-war // dublin experience into a novel in and of itself would actually be the concept of romantic love versus friendship, and why marriage is usually based on only the former. But in the most basic terms, “modern” marriage is a legally binding partnership that ideally lasts–well, forever. So what I propose is that marriages don’t always have to be passionate and romantic in the conventional sense to work out. While a unique kind of sexual/romantic feeling does eventually develop between the two, I still feel the need to stress that their relationship is a friendship, first and foremost. But because “just friendship” between men and women wasn’t accepted as feasible in the society of the time (and it still isn’t, more often than not :/), marriage became–weirdly enough–the next most plausible option for them. Essentially, it allowed Milo and Kerza to live together (without social stigma), build a home for themselves, and rest easy at night knowing that they’ve chosen someone who will always be there. 

In a lot of ways, the war destroyed both of their capacites for…well, ordinary romance. Any relationship–but especially romantic ones–require a high level of vulnerability and trust between partners, things that neither Kerza nor Milo are ever really comfortable with again, even with each other, as it obviously takes a lot of blood, sweat and tears for them to create a sustainable and functional partnership. Plus, both have been severely traumatized, and end up struggling with mental illness for the rest of their lives, which obviously makes finding an ideal romantic partner significantly more complicated and difficult. Like, speaking as someone who’s mentally ill myself, I know I wouldn’t feel right about dating a completely neurotypical individual, as this automatically creates a skewed power dynamic and a sense of “you just don’t get it”. Thus, it makes sense that Kerza and Milo gravitate towards people who have shared in similar struggles as themselves, which is the concept that my quote “we are bound by suffering and love” revolves around. In a lot of ways, though their joint traumas create a lot of dysfunction and even friction between them, the pros overall outweigh the cons. Their demons play well with each other, so to speak.

I’m thinking of adding a quick “Editors note” to the end of Vergessenheit, in which Kerza’s eldest daughter, Petra, attempts to come to terms with the experience of reading and editing her mother’s creation and tries to piece together the woman that she once was. I’d like her to briefly describe what it was like growing up with Kerza and Milo for parents: mention that although, as a child, Petra knew they loved each other, she could tell they were different than most of the married couples she knew of. Though the two sometimes shared an offhand kiss before parting ways on busy mornings and were so often by each other’s side, there was never the kind of sexual tension between them that’s usually seen/felt with lovers. Never anything delicate or traditionally romantic: just the rough, comfortable kind of affection between the oldest of friends, interspersed with occasional hand bolding and the odd kiss or two. They never called each other “dear” or “darling” unless speaking sarcastically, preferring old nicknames and tender insults in their native tongue. Though they squabbled often, their rows would rarely last long, and they’d always go back to their usual easiness sooner rather than later.

But yeah that was probably kind of dense, but basically the gist is that I’d warn my readers against holding their breath for any traditional romance between Kerza and Milo 😂 though they have their occasional moments of passion, their relationship actually stays weirdly similar to how it was in their childhood, despite everything–just with both parties being much more mature, world-weary and ripped at the edges. 

As far as personal changes undergone by these characters go: Kerza grows for the better due to her innate desire for movement and a hatred of stagnancy. Without these personality traits, she would have likely fallen all the deeper into that familiar pit of regret and bitterness that so many other trauma survivors without proper support are dragged into. She initially wraps herself up in anguish completely, allowing herself to experience these emotions in all their fullness–and though this kind of immersion is always a harrowing experience, she came out of it still standing. Metaphorically, Kerza ripped off her bandage and dealt with the agony that comes with cleaning a wound. But Milo, unequipped and too afraid to confront whatever was underneath, left it all to fester. 

This is why Kerza is able to move on with her life so much quicker than Milo, at least on the surface. She keeps herself as busy as possible, with either traveling, studying, or–eventually–working at a local Dublin newspaper to support herself. She starts out as an unpaid intern, then a secretary, and continues climbing the ladder until she is able to earn the respect of her colleagues and pursue a career in journalism. And though Kerza was always interested in that field and probably would have gone into the workforce no matter what, one of the main reasons she became as intense as she did about her career is the basic need for money and stability.  Her only remaining relative, Aunt Kitty, had never been a particularly financially reliable individual (despite her intellect and love of numbers), since she always moves around too much to hold down a steady job and is entirely unused to having anyone to take care of, let alone two traumatized children (as Daniel too is without close relatives, and chooses to remain with Kerza rather than plunging into an orphanage or foster home). Kerza’s parents had been saving up a sizable nest egg for their children, but nearly all of it had been depleted during the post-WWI financial crash–so while they were all able to live relatively comfortably after the worst of the depression, it was at the cost of their savings. Thus, when Kerza at last receives her inheritance, it’s just barely enough to supplant her travels across Greece and America, pay for her courses and schoolbooks at University (for a year or two at least), and help her aunt with the annual payments to Daniel’s boarding school back in Bonn. Plus, when Daniel decides to follow her to Ireland in 1947, she wants to be able to support him as well, even though he insists on living in the dormitories with the other foreign or out-of-town students so as not to impose on her.

So yeah, that’s Kerza’s section: she essentially goes from a good-hearted but immature and melodramatic little girl to a fiercely independent and hard-working young woman: a survivor in every sense of the word. 

That’s all I have room for right now haha but let me know if you want to hear more!

[motherhenna]

Got bored during my 6-hour drive home from school, so I made these :x