#Val being younger then Angel is very important to me

[urproblematicfav-arsonk]

During the late 70s, Vox finally decides to try and take Val home with him to stay the night at his house for once but because he lives in the basement of the Radio Tower, Alastor immediately catches them. Vox gets scolded like a teen trying to sneak his girlfriend through the window at night and Al makes him keep his door open the whole time Val is there

[hazbincalifornia]

Hazbin Liveblog Episode 6

And here we go! Since Cherri wasn't in the last one she must be in this one. (There was a promo on twitter earlier.)

I forgot Cherri's Australian. Was that a thing in the pilot that I'm just forgetting or is it new? Whoof, poor Angel though.

You know, Charlie, I think your idea of 'fun and relaxation' is a bit different from Cherri's.

"Their rivalry is very important for Pent but he's just Some Guy" to her is funny. Also, he's blushingggg

Ooooo Sera was originally a bird! And Emily looks like she's just sort of a shape...thing?

"You are gifted to be here" and we are starting with this right out the gate, along with how Peter was acting.

Emily and Sera's freckles are adorable.

MOLLY????? LIKE ANGEL'S TWIN SISTER MOLLY????? IN THE BACKGROUND

So the average 'Winner' doesn't know about the exterminations... makes sense, I can't imagine anyone (like, say, Molly) would be happy to know that their loved ones who didn't make it up are at risk of being brutally slaughtered with their afterlives snuffed out instead of just... Living In A Shittier City. If Exterminations are 'entertainment' though, who is that entertainment for? Literally just Adam?

So that's what exterminators look like outside of the actual extermination, huh....... interesting.........

So Adam is outranked by the Seraphim. Makes sense, but good to know he's not the top dog.

HA. FUCKING CALLED ITTTTT.

Deciding to make her named by Adam, the sexist and misogynistic twat is... I can't decide if it's a stupid way to roll with it or fucking hysterical. Get back to me in 3-5 business days. (Does this mean that they're created like machines, if Adam gets to name them? They're not Winners, considering the secret would probably get out if that was the case..)

I wonder how much Heaven will like it if it turned out Adam and Lute are taking judgement of their own into their own hands.

I like the angel designs. They're neat.

Okay, as someone who's had to write Many An Essay and has always disliked the 'dictionary definition' thing, Adam is correct in this one instance. Lame and unoriginal indeed.

Oh god it's gonna show where he is right now and he's gonna be doing something wild with Cherri, isn't he.

Huh. The fact that he's genuinely about to turn it down... even if it doesn't end up that way, it's progress.

Also, Pent giving everybody drinks because Cherri isn't taking it is great.

Charlie growling............. I am, mayhaps, Gay

Charlie, I don't know if this is... the best angle. Honestly, maybe she should have focused on Pent?

Awww, Angel really does care. That's sweet.

TOP FIVE USES OF THE COMEDY RULE OF THREES: I'M HAVING SEX WITH EVERYONE HERE

Oh. Oh no.

I saw somebody saw that Niffty would go after Val as a 'bad boy' and yepppp.

FUCK YEAH, good for Angel! Interesting that the deal specifies that Val owns Angel specifically while he's in the studio, while Alastor's deal seems to tie Husk to him whenever he likes.

Considering Stellaluna likes collecting interesting bits and pieces of targets and other people if she can, she'd absolutely love chatting with Niffty about their respective collections.

Emily seems to be the younger and more empathetic of the two? I wonder what it is that Sera knows that she doesn't though.

OOPS, ADAM.

FUCK YEAH, EMILY.

I wonder if when they cut to Charlie's eyes it showed Vaggie during the extermination itself?

Oh, Emily is absolutely going to try and find a way down there to talk to Charlie- and maybe even talk to Lucifer.

Adam doodled the S on the sheet. Incredible.

[leiflitter]

As I am now 30 and apparently an Actual Adult and Twitter is exploding even more, I figured that before I get back to the last bit of ArtFight I'd do some Dolly Introductions because most of my characters exist in the form of very expensive, very large dolls rather than the far cheaper "just draw them" option.

This is because I have impulse control issues and just love these idiots so... Hey! LORE is below the page break, as well as their sculpts!

These are just the ones who are important in some way in the big ol' thing I have going on, there are MORE DOLLS. So many more dolls.

1. Callum Shelley - Dollshe David Kuncci - the man who made Frankie and his siblings. Married to Science and Science only; he's also very gay and very awkward, and so decided that his desire to be a father could only really be achieved through sewing a ton of bodies together and reanimating it using science and Arcane Shit. He's technically on the run, as Frankie was kinda made in a lab that was meant to be looking into ways to improve transplants and other slightly theoretical ideas rather than Maybe Magic Could Help Me Have A Child, but he's managed to embed himself into Harlan's weird little underworld and so they don't have to jump ship at a moment's notice anymore. He now lives in London, in one of the many buildings owned by the Twins- Harlan wrangled that, as it would be useful to have an actual doctor on standby, right?

2. Franklin "Frankie" Shelley - Ringdoll Frankenstein 2013 - Frankenstein's Monster if he was a mid-20s Horrorpunk Dirtbag with a heart of gold. Very family-oriented- it was him and his dad for a few years just after he was made and they're very close. Had a few wobbly times as he came to terms with Being A Bunch Of Corpse Parts and therefore not really being able to do stuff, but now they have a little niche he's having a good time. Would literally die for-

3. Poppi - Aimerai Scraps - a ragdoll that was brought to life via some fairly arcane shit. A literal cinnamonbun angel. Frankie's other half, and generally makes sure that Callum doesn't accidentally forget to eat while he's working on stuff. As she can't have children (she literally has no internal organs), she's also involved herself heavily in looking after Frankie's siblings.

4. Evelyn Shelley - Sugarble Night Miriam - Frankie's "little sister". She's about six and she's always going to be about six- she's a very sweet little kid, loves dolls and dressing up. She has that "Family Princess" confidence, and can often be found "making Frankie Pretty".

5. Valentine Shelley- 5StarDoll Aiden - Frankie's "little brother". Although he's technically younger than Evelyn, he's probably more akin to a 7/8 year old. He was made as a playmate for Evelyn as she was getting pretty lonely. Callum had honed his technique a little, hence Val not literally being blue like his siblings. He's always ready for some sort of adventure, but lets Evelyn take the lead.

6. Magdalen - Doll Chateau Oort -very old vampire. She's the tactician; although she's very powerful, she tends to direct her brother rather than get her hands dirty. She talks the most of the twins, but even that's not much. The twins function almost as one person, and are rarely far from each other.

7. Alasdair - Doll Chateau Cyril - also a very old vampire. He's Magdalen's muscle- if something threatened them, he'd be the one actually dealing with it. He barely speaks, but when he does it's generally something very important. The twins live in Highgate and do not appreciate any link between them and that Highgate Vampire business. Their home is a massive Victorian thing that has some minor glamours so it's not considered "the clearly haunted house".

8. Harlan Silver - Ringdoll K -puts the Whore in Victorian, he's here representing the Pansexual Slut Vampires. He's considered the "oldest son" to Magdalen and Alasdair, but his function is less as a child and more as their connection to the outside world. He brokers deals and access to the twins, sources... food for them if they don't feel like hunting and has shown them how to connect to the wifi about 5 billion times. He lives in a basement flat in London that would make any antiques dealer jealous. He also kinda has a... thing... with Callum, but it's less emotion and more mutual benefit.

9. Seraphine - Doll In Mind Marcellina - the precious baby daughter in the vampire family. She was brought to them by Harlan as a toddler in the late 1800s, and they have raised her the way they were raised. She is doted upon absolutely- however she's not as odd as the twins, mostly because Harlan has done his best to expose her to humanity and help her be as well-adjusted as an immortal creature can be. She's currently going through Vampire Puberty so she's spending a lot of time with Harlan because there's nothing more frustrating than having a teenage mood swing in front of the twins.

10. Siddiq "Sid" Shah and Noa Kim - Universedoll Tsukimi and iDoll Arnoah - long-term schoolfriends who grew up in the London Borough of Camden. They were both on the 'social misfit' side of things, and spent a lot of their time trading Stephen King paperbacks and watching crappy horror films, until they found a book at a car boot sale that was apparently an actual Grimoire of spells- and then their interest in witchcraft took off, and all that time speaking one language at home and another at school really helps when finding rituals that work. They describe their magic as "kinda like one of those buffet restaurants that serves, uh, everything? Like you can get pizza, curry and fish and chips if you want, but instead of getting food poisoning, you get results."

The two fell onto Harlan's radar fairly quickly because he's a nosy pest that lives pretty much opposite the little park where they do business. He's now got them "in" with the twins, and they're also the ones who managed to create Poppi. They're now pretty good friends with Frankie and Poppi, and are working on some Glamour spells because Frankie would really love to go to a gig at some point. Or even just to Nando's.

They often find themselves helping Callum, but mostly because he's a scientist at heart and although he's used magic before, he doesn't really... get it. They're also both on the twins' payroll, because witches are also very useful, and not as common as they used to be.

[unknowconcreteflower-art-blog-me]

Re-contextualizing Angel Dust: Charlie was not ready for this...

And for the sake of warning Hazbin Hotel is an adult cartoon containing heavy dark subject matter (such as rape and drug abuse, that maybe trigger to views so please tread carefully. Warning out of the way on with the post! I also just wanna get this out there older post my analysis of Val and Angel people kept commenting “what Angel Dust isn’t in love with Valentino” and my rebuttal was “no no that’s a past Angel Dust a younger one who didn’t reach that level of abuse just yet” while their argument was “no it’s the current Angel Dust” which can’t be the case. To prove my point I would like to refer back to the comics and the music video and looking at it with the context of the show. And please read my previous post if you want more explanation on Addict. 

I just want to start off with explaining his relations to Cherri, needless to say Cherri is someone who Angel sees as a true friend and confines in her. And she is there for him as he is for her even willing to fight for her knowing well that he will get in trouble for it. Though one has to wonder why is there such this deep love and care for each other. Looking back to Addict, where we have Cherri singing her “Yeah you fell in love and you fell deeper in this pit...” and several times we have an unknown character pop up during her part of the song. With the little snip bits of info we get from the sequence we can tell that Cherri is in the line of work because of someone who’s over her head. And what they have over is an emotional hold over her if we want to lean in on what the lyrics it might in a romantic sense be we still don’t know who it is tho. So what makes this so important to Angel Dust.

This is because she herself is in the similar situation as Angel as in the both of us are trapped in the holes we dug ourselves into. Giving Angel someone who can understand the stuff he’s going through. Cherri knows why he’s acting out because he’s just trying to hide how hurt he really is cause” hey so does she”. And knows she doesn’t have to say anything but just be there; and takes him out on a night out with her when he’s down. That’s why Cherri is so important to him she’s someone he know that’s not going to look down on him or patronize him on his actions. And his number 1# go to person; which is why he probably reveal to her that he wants to get clean because hey that’s what binds them together... This connects why he broke streak and his stopped his sobriety. 

During the opening scene of the show we have Valentino texting Angel to do work right after the extermination. Which I also have to point out that Val showing a lack of care for Angel safety after the extermination. He clearly wants his money and is making Angel put himself out there for work. And what does he do after he’s done with the job; he falls back on drugs. Now this is important to note... remember during the News broadcast Charlie confirmed that Angel was clean for 2 weeks before all of this happened! He was doing so well what could have possibly made him break his streak-Valentino. 

People were theorizing Val gave drugs to his employees meaning Val isn’t only his pimp but supplier as well! Giving the reason why Angel stayed with Val for so long; when I did my analysis of the music video Addict I said Val maybe the first one to find Angel when he first came to hell. Manipulating Angel in a weakened state to view him as a sort of savior and made him forget his sorrows and how did this happen you may ask... “drugs” using sweet words to mask his hidden agenda. So Val basically trained hims like a dog on a leash in a sense of “you’ll get a love & affection with a treat” which translates to “if you do this job for me I’ll give you all the love you were denied when you were alive as along with the drugs you’ve been craving”. I will argue that Val made Angel even more dependent on drugs; because he made it his number one coping method he’s the enabler. After Angel was assaulted and raped by Valentino probably made it even worse for him because Val’s his boss, he goes to work he has to see him... triggering him to fall back on to drugs. That’s why Angel needs his drugs and needs to numb himself, so him breaking his streak clean after taking a job from Val wasn’t coincidence back then. 

“he’a been behaved, clean and out of trouble for 2 weeks now” until Val got to him...

This makes Val even more dangerous to Angel’s road to recovery than we could have ever imagined. No only that but it makes it difficult to tell someone about it as well Angel is afraid of him and has to stay in contact with him since he’s his employer. This would be good time to bring up my rebuttal for my case of Addict: I get. I identified that the Angel Dust in the beginning of the music video is a younger one that still has some love for before figured out he was using him and he stood up to Val (pre-trauma). And the Angel Dust at the end credits of the music video and the one in the comic is the current Angel Dust and show (post-trauma). When you look at the interactions with Val (via comic vs music video) they are clearly different hence the two different Angel Dusts!

I will be referring to the comics in this section so if you haven’t read them please do.  

When Angel is in the limo with Val he’s trying to make it very apparent that he’s upset that he’s not getting any attention from Val. Being very huffy and puffy not even looking at him as Val’ counting his money, forgetting that he’s right there. This is very important because Angel doesn’t hesitate to hide his emotions, this Angel is willing to show discontentment in front of Val being angry and annoyed at him which leads up to why he doesn’t kiss want him and outright rejects him. He shows he’s willing to fight back against Val’s mistreatment and neglect of him, becoming more aware of it. In my earlier post I deduced this scene is where Angel first time he’s disobeyed Val and finally gets the full picture he understands he doesn’t mean anything to Val and he’s using him. He’s no longer willing to put up with his mind games anymore and probably would have left Val that night... which is why he raped him to gain control over Angel. 

Music video vs. Comic scene

Now looking at the interactions Angel Dust has with Val are completely different he’s submissive to Valentino when we see his conversation in the limo. Not only that but it shows why Angel Dust went on that drug deal for Val; to show him he can do something else other than being a sex-worker. Angel wants out and this was his way of giving himself another option but Val shuts it down completely! Even before he entires, he’s holding his arm in fear and discomfort, even when he’s trying to plead his case he is terrified. He’s no longer willing to fight back because of what Val did to him. And Val reminds him constantly that he could do it again if he wanted to by reminding him of that night! He does this by grabs Angel face when he tries to explain himself, like he did when he forced Angel to kiss. Val forces him to smiles when he leaves the limo he wants him to never show any form of disagreement or disobedience like the last time because that’s what got him in trouble last. To add more salt in the wound he makes him Angel call him “Mister Valentino” reminding him he’s in control! The man is practical holding a gun over Angel saying “the same thing will happen, if you disobey me again...” AND THAT IS SADISTIC AS HELL! It making me hate Val even more and after he leaves the limo all he can do is let out his anger in silence as when he smokes similar to when we see him smoke at the end credits to Addict this Angel is our current Angel Dust. This is his way of expressing his sorrow in silence why he’s an addict.

So you maybe asking how does Cherri bomb come into play, well I don’t think after the initial incident with Val who does Angel confine to Cherri and destroy a bar together. You see the pattern; Angel has a break down, uses his drugs comes off of the high, he goes to Cherri and in turn go out, and have fun well her kind of destructive fun! And it has been confirmed that he learn all about weapons from Cherri so basically this is the reason why! He wasn’t breaking his clean streak “to do his girl buddy a solid”  he went because he wanted to be with the only person who could understand him at that time. And she just happened to be in a fight and he jumped in thinking  “oh my home girl’s in trouble I gotta help her out...” and that’s probably did out of instinct to protect Cherri. Charlie and Vaggie cut in... now things start to get a little dicey I’m not trying to attack them but they didn’t handle it this best way. They didn’t know anything, and before know Angels story a lot of people are upset with Angel’s action but now that we have context they’re (Charlie & Vaggie) in the wrong. 

These are the points of why Angel cannot confine to Charlie or Vaggie, I will also argue that they pushed Angel further from them. Angel is someone who’s very prideful and isn’t going to tell someone that he’s hurt. Unless they figure it out for themselves or feels safe with them (Cherri). Looking back Vaggie & Charlie made a huge “No-No...” and this scene is incredibly painful to watch. Let’s cut to Vaggie how does she address Angel by scolding him for his actions she goes right to the blame game, which is the last thing she should be doing if they really want to help Angel. They don’t even take the chance to ask him why he did it; unintentionally isolating him from help. 

What bother me is that Vaggie is quick to call Angel’s actions are a result of being “selfish” which is not the case now that we have context. And probably why Angel just kept trying to piss off Vaggie because he knows that his actions weren’t out of wanting be “selfish”... and makes it clear that he still wants to go clean. It probably actually really hurt him to when she said that  and I’d like to point out that people who struggle with addiction it’s not easy to stay clean and people can relapse. Basically what Vaggie did was shamed Angel for relapsing which is not okay and paints him as a bad guy immediately! To say he ruined the image of the hotel ... it made me furious at Vaggie putting all the blame on Angel. And we know that’s not the case even before the fight was broad casted the demons and sinners in Hell were already laughing at Charlie’s idea and let’s be honest it was reasonable. Because WE DON’T KNOW IF IT’S POSSIBLE YET so putting all the blame on Angel Dust was uncalled if anything it’s just the cherry on top. I’m not trying to attack Charlie but she really doesn’t know what she’s doing she doesn’t know how to send a soul into heaven. Is it irresponsible to broadcast a client before they are proven successful, not only that but it puts a lot of pressure on Angel to prove theory that we’re not sure is true yet.

And let’s be honest did Charlie really believe Vaggie’s word’s wouldn’t but hurtful they didn’t even take the time to ask him why he did it; immediately writing him off when clearly somethings going on now she’s painting the image that they don’t care about him, they just care about the hotel, and that they just wanted to use him as a poster boy! Hmm... now who has used Angel Dust in the past for their own personal agenda... oh yeah VALENTINO! Which is why he goes on saying “I made you look sad and pathetic...” he chooses those words not to just make Vaggie mad but that’s probably what he was really feeling on the inside. Angel really did want to apologize to Charlie but after what Vaggie said to him it probably made him feel like his apology meant nothing and leaves these actions carry on into Addict. This is where naivety is her biggest downfall she rushed into it thinking just keeping Angel clean is gonna redeem him she was so not ready to broad cast the hotel. She makes it sound easy but it so much harder than that!

THIS WAS A 100% CALLED FOR! AND SHE DOESN”T EVEN REALIZE IT!

This is why Angel flips off Charlie and doesn’t want to talk to her, he’s basically doing cause “Why should I tell you about my problems you don’t really care you just care about your hotel...” that’s why this is so important to highlight. They already gave him that impression, that they think little of him and that they aren’t going sympathize with him but scold him. And Charlie should have stopped Vaggie yelling when she had the chance. Vaggie sabotaged her chance to understand Angel Dust and help him. And did she really think her temperamental girlfriend was the one to help sympathize and redeem sinners.  If she really wants to help Angel Dust she needs to stop thinking it’s gonna be a cupcake walk, people have reasons why they fall to these bad habits; people have issues, relationships, traumas, that they need to navigate before they can heal. Which makes me believe that Charlie isn’t the one who’s going to get Angel Dust to open up to them about his trauma. Vaggie’s out of the question if not then who... 

HUSKER 

Yup our favorite flying poker kitty... I’ll do a separate post on that because it deserves it’s own explanation! (Side note I really do love Vaggie we don’t know her story so don’t hate her) Hope you guys enjoy the post~

[aion-rsa]

Val Kilmer Documentary Punctures the Actor’s Bad Boy Myth

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Leo Scott and Ting Poo’s new documentary feature, Val, is not a mortality play. It is a rehearsal for an upcoming act. During a tour of his one-man stage show, Citizen Twain, Val Kilmer was diagnosed with throat cancer. The actor underwent two tracheostomies, and now can only speak while covering a tube. The narration of the new film is thus done by his son Jack Kilmer, allowing the pair to share a non-verbal connection throughout the journey, and through time and expression itself. While there are flourishes of humor, the documentary is a serious study of an artist who has always struggled to be understood, told through the selective memory of Kilmer’s POV.

“I’ve wanted to tell a story about acting for a very long time,” Kilmer says toward the beginning of the documentary. “And now that it’s difficult to speak, I want to tell my story more than ever.” Kilmer is an artist, one who takes his vocation very seriously and introspectively. An actor’s voice is more than a tool, it is their primary source of communication. Non-verbal exchanges are important, but dialogue is the primary idea delivery system in staged and filmed works. Surgical procedures have split his throat, shredding the scope of his instrument. In the film, Kilmer is forced to project his story on the empty space between the notes.

Among Kilmer’s many defining roles, the one which appears to ring truest is his encapsulation of Jim Morrison, the poet and lead vocalist of the Doors in Oliver Stone’s 1991 biopic, The Doors. The young Kilmer is shown onstage in a small club, lost in the music, awaiting his cue to become one with the mic. Moments in Kilmer’s personal history, like how the actor was tagged with a “difficult” label, are consigned to rests. The most overt reference to Kilmer’s “bad boy” reputation comes from Robert Downey Jr., who smashes the notoriety to bits in a moment of impromptu dismissal.

There is no gossip here. There is no discussion of A-list-bad behavior. Kilmer sees it all as artistic license.  He was searching for honesty, he remembers. Choices like lying on top of a mattress filled with ice in order to feel a real pain during his last scene with Kurt Russell in Tombstone come across as perfectly valid. Kilmer is still bitter over spending four months learning to play guitar for Top Secret!, and his first note informs him the director thinks he looks funnier faking it. There is little evidence of unprofessionalism, only growing pains.

The bulk of Val comes from clips of 8mm home video footage Kilmer has been shooting most of his life. “I’ve kept everything, and it’s been sitting in boxes for years,” Kilmer informs us. The archive was intended to tell a story about “where you end and the acting begins.” We are gifted with moon shots of both Kevin Bacon and Sean Penn, which have nothing to do with the films Apollo 13 or The First.

Early self-directed screen tests provoke a series of what-ifs. A tortuous encapsulation of a Juilliard acting class is a lesson in what-nots. Val’s hand-held approach to The Island of Dr. Moreau is a highlight. The actor respectfully rocks his co-star and idol, Marlon Brando, on a hammock they both wish was strung to John Frankenheimer. Please turn off the camera, the film’s replacement director demands. But Kilmer only hits pause when it’s time to rehearse.

The behind-the-scenes camcorder footage from sets of Top Gun, Tombstone, and The Doors are treasure troves in themselves, and possibly underused. Most of the audience will be very interested in the candid youth and truth recorded over his career. Val uses the archival clips and unearthed b-roll to establish a chronology.

Many videos were made at home in Los Angeles with Kilmer’s younger brother Wesley, who had an epileptic seizure and drowned at age 15. His death casts a mournful pall following the news that Val was the youngest applicant ever accepted as a drama student at Juilliard. Kilmer calls his brother “an artistic genius,” and one of the most revealing things to come out of the documentary is how often Kilmer used this brother’s art to augment the backgrounds of the sets he is living through on film.

Seeing how Stone speaks about Kilmer now makes me wonder if Val would have been able to put in the same performances in his movies if he knew it at the time. In his audition tapes for Full Metal Jacket and Goodfellas, we see an actor who needs to be taken seriously. He flies 6,000 miles to hand deliver his tape to Stanley Kubrick in London.

While he makes no comment, footage reveals Kilmer’s favorite Batman was played by Adam West. “Every boy wants to be Batman,” we hear, and see the Caped Crusader in every era of Kilmer’s life. A short, animated film he and his brother made with what looks like crayon is a Batman spoof. He still glories in the moment he got deposited behind the classic TV series’ iconic wheels as a youngster visiting the lot. It appears Kilmer still can’t pass a grocery store Batmobile without feeding it quarters. He wears the classic blue Halloween ensemble expecting tricks and treats as a kid, and as a daddy with his kids.

Don’t expect to see Kilmer wearing his cinematic puffed rubber suit at home, and it’s not because he left it at the dry cleaners. Footage old and new, homemade or professionally recorded, presents the Batsuit as an albatross. Heavy rests the cowl. He has to be lifted from chairs, deposited on marks, and his only identifying feature on the set of Batman Forever is a chin and bottom lip. Anyone could have been behind the mask, and the human superhero envied the subhuman villains. Kilmer comes across as quite happy Jim Carrey and Tommy Lee Jones are able to create fully formed performance art in their portrayals. But he wanted to play with those toys.

“Batman Forever,” Kilmer laments, “whatever boyish excitement I had going in was crushed by the reality of the Batsuit. I realized it was just my job to show up and stand where they told me.” As the captured past footage is juxtaposed with modern sequences, we get an unfiltered glimpse of how little this has changed. The sequence of Kilmer at the Comic-Con autograph booth is wrenching. He initially didn’t want to take the part of Iceman in Top Gun because he felt it glorified the military. So many fans ask him to sign “You can be my wingman” on their souvenirs. It turns his stomach. He throws up in a garbage can and wheeled through hallways with a blanket over his head. Trouper that he is, he returns to the booth to finish out the signatures.

Kilmer blurred himself into the role of Mark Twain. There is a beautiful sequence where the actor walks through town to the beach, in full stage makeup, dressed in the signature white suit and long mustache of his character. It is extremely telling when Kilmer tells the camera it’s hard enough writing a good screenplay, much less a great one, which itself doesn’t even match what he feels he needs to bring to a script of a film version of Citizen Twain. Kilmer sold his ranch in New Mexico to finance the project. The documentary only captures some of the frustrations.

Most of the anecdotes are guarded, and all the admissions are part of a subjective narrative. Kilmer’s arc has rough edges, these tales are too smooth, and leave little room for impressionistic interpretation. Kilmer met his former wife, Joanne Whalley, when she was starring in a West End play directed by Danny Boyle, but he didn’t approach her.

“She was brilliant, and I was in town making fluff,” Kilmer concedes. It’s all about the art, even appearances. The documentary hints that Kilmer’s dedication to character did the most damage to their relationship. Wearing the same pair of leather pants for nine months could almost be on the books as probable cause for divorce in Hollywood.

Similarly, Kilmer’s Christian Science upbringing is brought up, and dropped. There is a loving but ambiguous undertone to Kilmer’s relationship with his once-rich-and-powerful father, who put his son in debt after trying to become a southern California land tycoon. But a sequence on his Swedish mother which juxtaposes a car ride he took with her when he was a child with one of being driven to her funeral speaks volumes without words.

Val is about the next step. “What’s past is prologue” William Shakespeare wrote in The Tempest. Kilmer pondered the “too, too solid flesh” while rehearsing Hamlet, and the documentary opens after the actor faced his own mortality. Kilmer swears he feels better than he sounds and, while he finds little to regret in his memories, he expects less in the ones he has yet to create.

Val can be seen on Amazon Prime Video.

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[floralkittygambler]

Reposting for reasons

Response to Honest’s post here: Doing this to spread this awareness more as I know theres a bit of a rift in the critical community - plus I really fucking go on. Im PISSED and I do apologise however it NEEDS urgent addressing. I know people will hate me for it but Im used to hate and honestly? Hating rather than helping to solve the issue only furthers my fucking point here. So yeah this is so more people are aware (no offense to any of those involved in said rift either, but this is an important message. Thank you for understanding and if I can do anything to make all sides comfortable, then please message me and I’ll do my upmost.) “ More awareness of this is needed. Even if it’s your favourite, you can’t justify their shit but rally against another’s shit. Have people tell you you’re experiences arent real or invalid because, like Husk, people have - in real life - shipped you with someone you are far from comfortable with but you still treat them like a person. Because you have basic respect. And people force you to accept harassment, touching, stalking, advances for THEIR satisfaction. People use you for their fantasies. But you’re just a ‘tsundere’ for it. Or you have addiction issues but people think being with another addict will ‘save’ you because you’re apparently too incompetent to save yourself. Love isnt some magic fuckin cure so stop romanticising it as a fuckin saviour. It’s gross and fuckin creepy. Get stalked and have someone NEVER accept your no just because you show youre still decent enough to not treat them shitty or any different from anyone else. Try having someone way older or way younger (both in morally fucked up ways) advance on you and people encourage that. People you’re supposed to feel safe around.

People touch you when you pull away or show discomfort. Follow you home. Have pictures of you and wont accept you dont like them like that and it’s not ‘playing hard to get’ or ‘the thrill of the chase’. Fuck. OFF. In fact, Im not only disappointed in the fandom. Im disappointed in the entire team who some should know better from their OWN personal experiences - or at least the bare minimal of being a fucking adult. Im disappointed in especially females (sorry idk whether girl or woman is more appropriate here-) who statistically are more likely to have experienced something similar at some point in their lives think this is a cute gay moment. No. Angel is made out as a fucking predator - Im not saying he is, Im saying that his persistence is very fucking unwelcome like one. People like Husk dont need that fucking invasiveness. They/We need patience and someone on our level. Angel’s I know are the fuckin polar opposite - and some of them I know are very sexually harassing, including unwanted touching. It’s a shitty way to present gay people. Gays are fuckin people. Some are cunts and some arent. It’s a HUMAN thing. But considering the shit theyve been subjected to, presenting a gay as a victim only to also show them as a perpetrator is insulting! And for those Ive seen argue this about how people like AD wouldnt know how to express their love normally and whatnot? His pig. His best friend. He’s in his fucking 30s. There are literal real life criminals who get molested as kids and then go on to molest kids. Not all who grow up like that turn into nonces. Stop just fucking STOP justifying and romanticising this bullshit! I used to see the good in AD but now he makes me fucking sick. Especially with my verrrrrry fucking real traumas and connections. But fuck me, eh? Because this fictional guy matters so much more. Fuck real victims. And whilst we’re at it, fuck AD too when it suits your fetishes! Sarcasm aside, the fans and the team need to straighten up their abhorrent behaviour. Stolas. Fucking clearly having an affair, knowingly fucking up his daughter’s mental health and bribing a guy into sex who only wants the book and nothing more. He even has a fucking warning button over Stolas- Guys, how do you think any of this is cute? Even the team gross me out- I genuinely see potential and talent and it’s all gone to shit to satisfy horny teens, horny adults, and literally everyone who doesnt for the life of them understand being an adult is more than sex, drugs, violence and swears! I REALLY want to keep enjoying HB/HH but it’s getting harder and harder with such ignorant and bordering lazy creators (note: lazy as in wont do the fucking research or actually listen to real criticism and victims), such despicable fans (yeah, some HDers fuckin mocked that they triggered my ED, yet they had the fucking NERVE to support Angel’s potential ED AND laugh and blame me for me getting treated so badly for actually having the balls to call Angel and the teams hypocrisy. I got told to kill myself, that my problems arent real - oh but Angels apparently is! Which... They *are* but AD isnt real so technically only onlookers will suffer and not a drawing  - and they just excused their toxic behaviours. These people are like “aww poor angie babey!” yet fuckin INSULT sex workers. All this red in Hazbin yet it feels everyone and they mama colour blind. The issues are getting worse and fans are outright becoming EVIL, VILE, Vindictive little bullies - from kids to adults. You SHOULD be ashamed of yourself if you conduct yourself in such a manner. And you need to readjust your attitudes and behaviours because the only fuckers getting hurt are actual fucking victims. Ever been violated and been gaslit so much you STILL fucking question it’s reality? So you drown that shit out yet somehow it’s effects still hit you? Fetishise it. Make it your uwu gae couple goals, you’re no better than people believing Harley and the Joker werent toxic af. If this shit happened to you, most of you would actually SEE where we’re all coming from. Also, stop making gay a fetish - you’re like those creepy old men in the alley heckling lesbians to make out so they can wank off. Gays, no ALL the LGBT+ are fucking people too. So dont give me that bullshit then start turning everything just gay or just straight to mentally wank off to. It’s degrading and dehumanising. And yes, fiction does effect reality. You crush on a fictional character? Mourn one? Support one? Hell, fuckin jerk off to one - that’s affecting reality. Remember how in fiction all blacks were treated as villians? Look how theyre treated IRL. JAWS, great classic unfortunately their was a spike in shark killings over a fucking movie - the shark in the movie wasnt even real for the most part because they dont behave like that! (Also the animatronic was so shit they genuinely had so many issues - I think they even took to naming each one! Some fun trivia there!). Tiger sharks are more nasty than great whites as tiger sharks will hunt and eat a human. Great whites prefer seals and dislike human flesh, they just mistake us for seals. Hell, theres the toothless basking shark - theyre often SWAM WITH by divers for being so friendly. Yet Jaws made people think all sharks are bloodlusting over humans. Slenderman was created for a fucking contest and that influenced a stabbing (NOT Victor’s fault). Watch a horror movie that isnt based on a real life event and tell me that at least ONE has left you peaking over your shoulder. Stella may be a bitch - we dont know for certain - but try getting cheated on. Y’know what? Try growing up in such a broken home like Octavia. Yeah reaaaaaal fucking cute now, huh? Funny how as well y’all petition for male victims to be taken seriously then laugh when fictional males experience this abuse, further adding to stigma. You can be hit on by the hottest mf on the planet but if you arent interested, that should be respected! Also we’ve all been inspired by at least one fictional character so yeah. Yknow, since I was little Ive been fighting for sex worker and homeless rights. But HH/HB treatment of both leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll still fully support sex workers and the homeless, but that’s the fucking effect this show is having. Bearing in mind I wont ever share everything Ive been through - and I shouldnt fucking have to in order to be believed and validated (obvs proof is required in a legal case but that’s a whole other topic). Why should I share MY fucking pain especially when you fuckers have belittled and triggered it more so? We have our rights to our secrets but fuck ME you lot NEED to start acting appropriately and like decent fucking humans. ‘iTs HeLl’ yeah and welcome to Earth- the team and yourselves live HERE. You obide by THESE rules. And as someone with beliefs (and a LOT of ancient fucking texts and studies on this shit) their Hell isnt even a proper Hell! It’s closer to purgatory and even then it’s not. Regardless, it’s a poorly built world with the lore consistently changing per episode and tweet, with many plot holes, and is apparently easy to get into - even via accidentally watching porn according to a stream. If youre gonna parade youre a fucking expert and research into demonology and use real believed figures, at least get THAT right. In fact, Lucifer and Lilith (and Stolas tbf) are ESPECIALLY risky as theyre a lot more complex than most easy access texts will tell you. Likewise, Stolas’s first introduction and main focus is sex. He’s one of the FEW Goetia demons that dont have some involvement in relationship issues at ALL. He’s known for astrology, crystals and herbs but hes also known to aid MONEY troubles (it’s lesser known but it’s true! HB Stolas is an insult to the Prince). Turning Vodou into something evil is vile considering it’s powerful and liberated slaves. Pentagrams are nothing to do with Satan, they’re magic based sigils. Upside down cross is the symbol of a SAINT. It’s just some edgy attempt to trick people into believing they know more than they do. Also you should NEVER dabble and doodle sigils without knowing the meanings or respecting what they behold. Vox and Val, real fuckin cute way to make them look like a stupid fucking highschool drama instead of a fucking SEX TRAFFICKER (note: real pimps often target YOUNG folks too - aka minors - and groom them into sex work. Theres different types of pimp. Viv has shown barely any understanding of ‘the game’ and its a fucking insult to injury. Yes we KNOW what a fucking pimp and prozzie are! We dont need to see it. We need REAL AWARENESS.) and a fucking scheming bastard of a CEO salesman botman. And yet even THEN lets go a step further and make some yandere wuv on boyfweind aboose! Fuck off- Now I love a good anime but these tropes are getting fucking dangerous now. And unrealistic to real love and relationships. Kids nowadays know fuck all on a healthy relationship (neither did the fuckin 50s tbf) and Im seeing more romaticism and glorifying abusive situations. Like the show ‘You’. Ok, there’s a fuckin bloke online who slaughtered innocents and kidnapped yet people commented how cute he is on his IG and that they want to be kidnapped or killed by him next. Dont believe me? Look up Peter Manfredonia Connecticut and the comments people left him and then tell me why shit like whats being presented in HH/HB ISNT fucking concerning - because it is. For a series about redemption, it’s brilliant at the opposite (Quote from the creator herself, Viv has posted that it’s influencing her bad choices. Even as a joke, proof’s in the pudding). And the overall focus on sex in the way Viv does is so immature and really creepy, and this is from an ADULTS perspective. From one adult to another, Im concerned as to why any of them think this is a normal fixation. Then again they’ve hired quite a large amount of dodgy folks and even a child. Most of this shit gets avoided with a basic background check like most companies run. I DO like Hazbin. Or the premise. I love some of the cast and spite the others. In Helluva, I just like a tiny portion of the cast. And I critique it so harshly because Viv DOES need a wakeup slap, grounding to reality, people who arent going to big her up or kiss her arse for once and shape her up to be the best she can be. The actually reach and even surpass her potential. And to reach where you need to be, there’s a lot of harsh lessons youll face. That’s life. Shes chosen one of the most HEARTLESS industries and if she blocks out critique as ‘hate’ then she’s not strong enough and wont last. It’s just another unprepped YanDev again (except I dont believe Viv to be a nonce. Even with her dodgy past and dodgy present, I think her perspective on sex and relationship with sexuality is FAR from healthy BUT I dont believe she’s a pedophile. Ive bled my fair share and so far, I just think her sex perspective isnt healthy or mature for her age. But there’s little to nothing to suggest actual noncery - dont worry about accusations there. But YanDev is totally a dirty predator. Just clearing that up). Viv NEEDS some harshness and stability if she wants to do things right. And it’ll make her fucking cry but if she loves these projects as much as she claims to, then you’ll sacrifice blood, sweat and tears for that shit. Even the strongest points are mediocre at best when properly observed. She CAN do more, but she’ll have to face the harsh music. Viv wont see this, but if she does, I dont care if it upsets her. Why? Because this is that much of an issue - something she’s cultivated - that she needs to take action and not ignore it or be secretive about it. She needs to grow up and get tougher skin. Im not saying this to cause her pain. In fact, I wouldnt waste my fucking limited time if I DIDNT care. Trust me, I have duties to be met at a certain quota every single day. I say this shit only because I give a shit and care. If we met, she’d fucking hate me. But people like me are good for shaping people up to their potential. And we arent always this ‘tough love’ either. But when someone needs that level of harshness to help themselves, we’re not afraid to lose people or cause upset if the results end up being the best for them. If she ever saw this, she needs to re fucking evaluate her message, her story, and those she’s choosing to welcome into her circle. And all Im seeing is one rookie mistake after the other. Her paid patreon discord. Just like the messages Honest has posted on her side of being harassed (not in Vivs fyi), Ive experienced shit and bullying and even stay silent on their for being attacked for a group I fuckin paid to be in and yet I feel isolated. It’s all arsekissing and ‘thank you viv’ (thats an actual channel-) and it feels like a place of borderline worship and people trying to appease her 24/7 whilst kicking others with different opinions down. There’s so many I love but I aint kissin yer fuckin arse. Ask the closest friend I have - we’re fucking raw and wont just side with each other just because. We’ll call each other out if we think they’ve fucked up and then help each other build themselves up better. Because real fuckin people who actually care wont just want to be adored by you. They’ll care enough to point out your bullshit and help you, even if they upset you at the time. They’re real and upfront with you. People like us arent always the easiest to be close to either because we arent afraid of upsetting someone if it’s in their best interest and to help them. Likewise, we dont go out looking for fights either. Most times, we’re fuckin soft bastards- All this shit listed is the fuckin surface level of the real life hell of this fandom. And unsurprisingly, those who experience little to no toxicity have always been higher on that popularity ‘food chain’ - enough admirers and shared opinions that people wanna arse kiss regardless of their OWN feelings as well as neutral perspectives. I’d say you’re the lucky fans, but you’re not. You’re sheltered, and that isnt always the best way to be sadly. As for the fans. If Ive upset you. Well... I dont care. Because many of you have actively sought me out and weaponised my traumas against me. You never cared about my feelings then. Why should I care about yours? Im not doing this out of malice. Im fed up of humans behaving so pathetically yet claiming to be high and mighty. Most of you have been arseholes to those in and out of the community. The victims and non-victims alike. Hardly any of you considered once my real suffering. You put a drawing over a life. Many lives. You had the audacity to tell me Im full of shit. Some even using my real traumas to make a mockery of me and those Im around with a very similar history. Some with traumatic histories that differ from my own. You hardly ever considered the real lives of those effected. So no, Im not sorry for having the fucking balls to this day to still stand up for our rights and give us a voice that’s long been stolen. Im not sorry for being a fucking victim. Im not sorry for saying what desperately NEEDS voicing. And Im not sorry for not conforming to you or any fandom just to belong. We deserve better than to constantly be your fuckin arse monkeys (well... the trope is butt monkey but yknow-) and to be mistreated, misrepresented and harmed by you. You’re no different to the school bullies who give speeches on anti-bullying day. And I hope every single one of you starts looking into yourselves and improving. PS: Depending on the texts you read, Lucifer is said to have been redeemed or to be redeemed. Fun fact to haunt yalls with~ “

[dreamin-of-somewhere-else]

Happy To See You Awake

Stranger Things

Characters: Byers family + middle Byers sibling reader

Words: 1000

Warnings: None really just worry and a bit of guilt I guess. A little bit of fluff.

A/N: Hey guys! Happy Saturday. Sooo, as you’ve probably noticed; this isn’t a Supernatural fic. I love writing SPN, it’s just what I do. But I watch a lot of other shows too, and sometimes I just get crazy inspired to write something else than SPN, and then I’ll do so. I’ve watched both seasons of Stranger Things in about a week, and I just felt like writing something so it became this shorter fic/drabble piece. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a Winchester sister writer, because Supernatural is my fave thing to write, and this won’t really be a regular thing, but just overall, I might post fics for other fandoms every now and then, if I feel inspired. Lately I’ve had a bit of a writer’s block, and I’m just thankful for any piece I write right now. So yeah, hope you’re okay with this Stranger Things fic until I get my inspiration back when it comes to my SPN stuff :-)

Also, I just tagged my All Time Taglist and threw in some other tags too. I don’t know who’s watching Stranger Things, but just ignore it if you’re not interested.

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You opened your eyes slowly, fighting off the darkness. It wasn’t will power, it was a reflex. Your mind was still in another place, you frowned as you tried to understand. You blinked, several times trying to get your eyes to focus and the fuzzy figures to clear up. You concentrated, trying to actually hear the voices, to get your brain to piece the sounds together into words, but with no success. You recognized a touch though, just barely. It was by your face and maybe someone was playing with your hair or something like that, but you couldn’t be too sure. And, that was about all you gathered before succumbing to sleep again, all the strong impressions around you fading away.

”(Y/N)? (Y/N), do you hear me?”

A voice that sounded awfully familiar reached your ears and that was the thing that ultimately pulled you back to consciousness. A faint gasp escaped your mouth as you opened your eyes fully, and your wide-awake gaze darted across the room. White walls, white floor, white ceiling, white covers, pastel yellow curtains and light blue gown. Hospital.

But all that was pushed away when your eyes landed on the three people to your left side. All of them were watching you with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes and small yet relieved smiles.

Closest to your head sat Jonathan, and you briefly wondered how he got that spot, competing with your mother Joyce, who sat in the middle. Furthest away sat Will, who with his round eyes and shy smile looked even smaller than he already was.

It had been some time, you could tell by their appearances. By the shadow of a beard on your older brother’s face from lack of shaving, by the darkness under your mother’s eyes, by the paleness of your younger brother’s face. You felt a sting of guilt pierce your chest that translated to a sad smile pulling on the corners of your lips followed by your gaze dropping to your hands.

”Honey, do you want me to get the doctors?” Joyce asked worriedly, as she stood up from the chair that had been pulled up to the bedside.

You opened your mouth to talk, but realized that your mouth and throat felt incredibly dry, and you resorted to clearing your throat instead.

”I’m going to get the doctors,” your mother declared, and with a small, crooked smile, she turned around and hurried out of the room and down the corridor.

Both of your brothers watched her go, and you looked at her retrieving back with a concerned expression, matching the one she herself was wearing. Your mom seemed worn and scared, and that in turn, scared you.

As the middle chair now was empty, Will took the opportunity to move closer to you and Jonathan. Jonathan himself reached over to the small table next to the hospital where a jug of water and some plastic cups were placed. He filled one and handed it to you.

Up until this point you hadn’t even realized how thirsty you were, but when Jonathan placed the plastic cup in your hand, you downed it probably faster than you should have, almost breathless in the end. Both of Jonathan and Will laughed a bit at that, and you couldn’t help but to smile a bit wider.

Then, Jonathan reached out and took one of your hands, and clasped it in his own, bigger one.

”I’m so happy that you’re okay.” His voice only wavered a bit when he said those words, his eyes soulful and meeting yours.

”You really scared us,” Will filled in, his faint tone telling you about the nervousness and fear that had  permeated the time that had passed.

”Like you’re the one to talk,” you responded, the half-smile decorating your face and the gentle glimpse in your eyes telling him that you weren’t serious nor angry.

”I mean it,” Will pressed, though his tone was a bit lighter after your joke. ”I thought…”

He got quieter and quieter until his voice broke, making a choked sound, and he stopped talking, not being able to finish the sentence.

”I’m sorry,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands once again, the one in Jonathan’s hand and the one left in your lap both.

Will was your precious little brother, who had already been through more than enough to last about three lifetimes, and you hated the fact that what had happened put him and the remaining two of your family through more than they already had endured.

”Hey, don’t be,” Jonathan interrupted. ”It’s not your fault,” Will agreed.

You nodded slowly, but it was going to take some time before you believed that. Right now, you had another important question.

”What happened, exactly…?”

Will and Jonathan looked at each other, and then back at you, both frowning.

”You don’t remember?” Will asked.

”No…” you answered thoughtfully.

”Oh,” Will mouthed.

”Shit,” Jonathan muttered simultaneously. ”That’s probably not great.”

You just rose your eyebrows. ”What happened, then?”

You didn’t want to be rude, but there was this uncomfortableness in not knowing, a feeling you didn’t like.

”Well,” Jonathan began, drawing a deep breath, but didn’t get further.

”Doctor’s here,” your mom’s voice unknowingly cut off her son’s.

”Hello, (Y/N), how are you feeling?” the doctor then asked, as the grey haired man walked into the room, followed by one of the nurses.

”I, uh, I’ll tell you later,” Jonathan reassured you. Then he and Will both stood up, making room for the nurse and the doctor, but they didn’t leave your side just yet.

Instead, Will took one of your now both free hands, and squeezed it with his own small hand and Jonathan leaned down and placed a quick kiss on top of your head. Then both of then joined Joyce in the far end of the room, as the doctor and the nurse began the control.

Your family just stood there through it all. Your mom had her arms wrapped around Will’s shoulders and Jonathan stood closely besides them. All three of them wore the same relieved smiles as when you woke up, and that very smile depicted the physical similarities between them even more than usual.

Normally, you’d feel a bit weird being watched like that, but now you sort of appreciated it. It almost felt like they were your guardian angels or something. Throughout the doctor’s boring check-up, you’d send them a glance every now and then, even if the doctor or the nurse were listening to your heart, asking you questions or something like that meanwhile. And every time you’d look their way, they would blink slowly and warmly, sending you a comforting smile. And you’d smile right back, unbelievably happy that you had them.

A/N: Sorry I was too lazy to come up with a back-story (I wrote this about 2 AM in the morning after binging five episodes or something. 

And again, Supernatural is my main thang but if there’s a show I’m really into at the moment, I might write something different than SPN. Like SPN is my favorite, and it’s what this blog is based on and probably what you, my followers, want to see since you (probably?) followed my for that, but I’m definitely someone who watches a ton of series and if I’m want to write something else every now and then, I myself have nothing against that. I like writing, and everything that makes me want to write, I’m happy about.

All Time Taglist: @evyiione @samanddeanshotsis @darkestgrungeuniverse @fabulouslycassie @delessapeace-blog @mariairwin666 @1amluke @saveprettydays @sammysbeanie  @deepbreathssammy @hanginwithmanerds @bluecookiesandbooks @frayedphan @straightestgay-voice @legend-o-zelda @holysheeppanda @stonergirl4life95 @rosie-winchester @stilesneedsprotection @phire23 @winchesterhound @th3things-in-mymind @messy-buns-and-shotguns 

@bellero

[imagine-it-like-this]

Title: Bleeding Characters: Rowena, Sam, Dean, Mary, reader Relationships: Rowena/reader Genres: Drama, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Whump

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You were still a newbie when it came to witchcraft, so when the Winchesters asked for Rowena's help, which ended up requiring her to cast an extremely difficult spell, Rowena suggested you stand aside and watch.

Sam and Dean weren't too thrilled when you told them you'd become friends with Rowena and asked her to teach you magic. They were even less thrilled a few months ago when they found out the two of you had started dating, but as of recently they somewhat trusted Rowena, so they've eventually come to accept your decisions.

While you knew the two of them from a case you'd helped them work, Mary, their mother, was a complete mystery to you. She was nice, but there was something off about her. You couldn't put your finger on it; all you knew was that you couldn't trust her, and you made sure to warn Rowena to be careful around her.

Unlike her sons, Mary was old school. While she tolerated witches, unlike plenty of other monsters, her dislike for Rowena was instant. She was somewhat civil towards her, however, it appeared she couldn't forgive the witch for daring to be the King of Hell's mother. As if she had a choice in the matter.

"Watch everythin' I do," Rowena instructed. She was kneeling on floor over the pentagram she'd drawn with her own blood. A circle of thick, white candles surrounded her, forming a small fence around her petite form. "Listen to my pronunciation. It's important."

"Alright," you beamed. You couldn't believe you were going to witness her casting another grand spell. Nothing could compare to the feeling that came along with watching her do magic in all her glory. "You're gonna be okay, though? It looks a bit dangerous."

While you were all up for learning from the best, you would never risk her life for a spell. She was worth more than a pesky magic show.

Rowena smiled. "I'll be fine, dear."

She gave your hand a quick squeeze for reassurance, and then started chanting. Almost on instant, the candles lit up in unison, their flames casting shadows over the dimly lit room.

You could barely contain your excitement as you watched her in her natural element – basking in magic she loved so much. You took in every single detail, absorbed every word she so perfectly pronounced. If you didn't know any better, you would assume she were a native speaker.

All the joy faded from your face the moment a drop of blood slid down her nose. You may have been a newcomer to the craft, but if there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that bleeding was never a good thing. One of the very first things Rowena told you when she started teaching you was that if you start bleeding, it's time to call it quits. Unless it was an absolute emergency, no spell was worth your health.

"Rowena?" you called, voice thick with concern.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, resuming the interrupted chanting.

Her weak tone told you she was everything but fine.

"Keep going," Mary said at the same time you told her: "Maybe you should stop."

You shot the hunter a glare before averting your eyes back to your girlfriend. "It's okay if you need to rest."

"We don't have time for that!" Mary said, voice thick with irritation. "If she doesn't cast this spell, a lot of people could die!"

"If she does cast it, she could die!" you snapped, having had enough of her attitude. "I know you don't give a fuck about a witch's life, but I do. I love her and I'd rather die before I let something happen to her. Again. You people already forced her into a difficult spell, or did you already forget about that?"

You gave Sam a quick look, prompting him to lower his head in shame. You've made it your mission to never let him, Crowley, and Castiel forget about forcing Rowena to kill Oskar.

While Crowley, being a demon, was pretty much rid of human emotion, the younger Winchesters and the angel were perfectly capable of guilt.

"I'm not gonna let you do it again! She's not your slave. She's a person and she deserves to live just like all of you. What, are you gonna chain her up again and make her kill someone else she loves?"

"No one's killing anyone," Dean cut in. "Let's all just calm down."

"It's a bit hard to calm down when your mother keeps trying to kill my girlfriend!"

"Hey!"

"I'm not trying to kill her," Mary interjected. "I just want her to finish the spell. A lot of people – innocent people – depend on it!"

"I'm sorry," you weren't really, "but I'm not risking her getting hurt for a bunch of strangers!"

"Maybe we should take a little break," Sam suggested. "All of us."

"Besides, it's not that urgent," Dean added. When Mary tried to protest, he said: "The monster's dead. All the people he put in a coma are safe in their hospital beds. It sucks for them, but hey, at least they aren't dead like those other folks. An hour or two more of sleep won't kill 'em."

Just as you were about to thank him, Rowena's body went limp, collapsing to the concrete floor with a thud.

"Rowena!"

You were quick to mutter a spell to extinguish the flames and another one to throw the candles away before kneeling down next to her.

"Rowena?" you said, pushing a strand of hair away from her face and gently tapping her cheek. She was warm to the touch, almost as if she had a fever. Another trail of blood fell down her face, staining her sapphire shirt. "Sweetheart?"

She stirred, and you let out a breath of relief. She was alright. Extremely weak, but she would live.

"Y/N?"

"I'm here." You gave her cheek a comforting caress.

Breathing heavily, she used her hands to push herself up into a sitting position. You put an arm around her, letting her lean onto you for support.

"Take it easy, honey," you whispered, stroking her hair. "You okay?"

"Aye," she breathed. "It was just a moment of weakness. This spell is complicated."

"You don't have to do it," you told her.

"I want to," she said determinedly. "I just need a moment."

"Of course! Take as much time as you need."

Sam handed her a tissue. You snatched it before she could take it and started wiping the blood off her face.

"I'm not a child, Y/N," she chided, sending you an annoyed glare.

She hated it when you babied her, but you couldn't help it that seeing her weak made you want to care for her. It was part of your nature, an instinct you neither could nor wished to control.

Caring for her was nice for the both of you; it gave you an opportunity to give back everything she'd given you, and it allowed her to, at least for a bit, let go of her tough façade and have a much needed cry. Holding everything in wasn't healthy.

"Trust me, I know," you said, throwing away to tissue after cleaning off every last drop. You cupped her cheeks, bringing her closer so you could press your forehead to hers. "I'm just worried."

She took your hands, entwining her fingers with yours. "I'm fine," she assured you. "As I said, it was just a moment of weakness. This spell takes a lot out of ye."

"I can see that," you told her. "If you still insist on casting it, let me do it with you. I know I still pretty much suck at magic, but I'm a fast learner. I'll do everything you're doing. Just, please, let me help you. You can't do this on your own."

She contemplated it for a bit before finally giving in. "Alright. It should work better if there's two of us."

"Great!"

"But," she added, raising her forefinger up in warning, "if I see any blood, ye're off the spell. Overexertion can be fatal for a young witch."

"Deal."

You were ready to agree with everything, just so you could help her.

"Do you need anything?" Sam asked, startling you.

You were so caught up in the intimacy that you forgot the three Winchesters were also there. While her sons looked relieved that Rowena was alright, Mary's face, on the other hand, bore the look of impatience. She had no time for your witchy relationship drama, as you'd guessed she probably called it. She was a Winchester, after all – quips and snarking were practically in their DNA.

"A cup of tea would be nice," Rowena said.

You rose to your feet, letting her hold onto your arm as she got on hers. You threw an arm around her waist just in case, and she gratefully leaned into you for support. There were times when she opposed even looking at you with anything other than scorn in front of other people. Now she didn't care if anyone saw. She was a woman – she had needs and desires, and if anyone minded, her magic was more than willing to silence their complaints.

"Are you sure you can even do this spell?" Mary inquired as you headed for the kitchen.

Rowena smirked. "D'ye know who ye're talkin' to, dear?" She motioned to herself. "Most powerful witch alive. Though I'm not one to brag."

Of course not.

"You didn't look that a moment ago," the hunter commented.

Rowena's narrowed, angry eyes told you she could handle this one. "If ye doubt my capabilities so much, ye're free to call any other witch. I'm sure they'd all jump at the chance to help the Winchesters."

The thick sarcasm in her voice prompted you to grin.

For the remainder of your and Rowena's stay, Mary didn't dare utter a word of complaint. In fact, she had even thanked the two of you for casting the spell and waking all those people up.

Editor: @oswinthestrange

[how2to18]

IN THE EARLY 1980s, when I was a sophomore at Yale, I lived in a narrow clapboard house off-campus, somewhere east of Wooster Square. It wasn’t the happiest time in my life, but I had a small study with a big metal desk; my roommates were seniors, with one foot out the door; and there was a speakeasy around the corner where you could get a six-pack of beer on Sundays when everything else was closed.

We lived on the top floor; a couple in their 30s lived downstairs: the woman, who was Vietnamese, spoke little English and always looked frightened; her husband, who was white, was a Vietnam vet who would periodically get drunk and beat her. I’m not sure I would have had the courage to do so had I been living there alone, but my roommates often called the cops, who would come and intervene. My neighbors weren’t the first people I knew for whom the war in Vietnam hadn’t ended — I had friends in Pennsylvania whose older brothers had come back, completely changed. My stepfather, a mild-mannered neurosurgeon who had been a doctor in a busy MASH unit, would occasionally belt back a couple of drinks and fly into an inexplicable rage. I was curious about these people, wondered about the experiences that haunted them. But the war, and the protests surrounding it, seemed remote, something I would never comprehend in the way that we can’t really comprehend things we don’t live through, experiences whose most intimate details we will never know.

In Alice Mattison’s new novel, Conscience, we meet two characters for whom the war has not ended either. The novel, which is set in present-day New Haven (where Mattison lives and often sets her stories), is Mattison’s 14th book, her seventh novel in a long, distinguished career as a writer and a teacher. In an author’s note, she explains that the book grew out of her curiosity about an idealistic young woman she met in the ’60s who later “turned violent.” Among other things, the novel poses some interesting questions: How long does the past linger? What’s the value of rehashing it? How can we honor, forgive, or live with people who have done difficult things?

Mattison tells several stories in Conscience, and watching them grow and intersect is one of the greatest pleasures of the book. The first story begins in the mid-1960s, in Brooklyn, with three young women who become involved in the antiwar protests: Helen Weinstein, a serious girl who drops out of Barnard after she is radicalized; Valerie (Val) Benevento, a popular girl who will eventually write a successful book about Helen’s life; and Olive Grossman, Helen’s best friend, an editor who now lives in New Haven with her husband, Griff, the hard-working principal of a school for troubled kids, a gentle man who is marked, like Olive, by a violent incident that happened in the ’60s. Helen is the most compelling character in the novel, and it is Olive’s need to make sense of Helen’s life that moves the story forward.

Several other plot lines unfold over the course of the novel: Olive and Griff face an impasse in their marriage; the complex arcs of several female friendships are explored; and Olive finds the courage to tell the truth about her relationship with Helen, getting past what Virginia Woolf famously called the “angel in the house,” that dreadful expectation that women should be sweet and charming, avoiding conflict at all cost. Finally, there is the more contemporary story of a slightly younger woman named Jean, who runs a homeless shelter in New Haven. Her friendship with Olive dominates the second half of the book.

Conscience is told in alternating first-person voices. The shifting perspective works well, as a chorus of “I”s (there are three of them — Olive, Jean, and, to a lesser extent, Griff) helps build a collective sense of the collateral damage of the war and the noisy overlap of friends, family, and lovers that make up a community. At a certain point, the voices seem to blend and merge, becoming almost one, a tactile illustration of some of Mattison’s larger themes: family, friendship, community. The alternating voices also give the reader an intimate view of Olive and Griff’s marriage. Personal space is an important concern in the novel (especially for its female characters), and there are interesting issues related to the architecture of Olive and Griff’s house. Originally a duplex (Griff lived upstairs and Olive downstairs during a time of marital separation), the two units are now connected, but to some extent, the separation remains. Olive, who has a home office she never uses (strange since she is always craving solitude), spreads her work over the kitchen table, which annoys and pains Griff, who retreats upstairs or leaves the house. They often eat alone. As each character recounts their version of this conflict, the reader, like a couples’ therapist, pieces together their troubles, sees the misperceptions and the self-deceptions, and feels the loss of what might have been. In another example of Mattison’s clever use of shifting perspectives, Val’s book, which we learn about as Jean reads it, offers a different perspective on Olive’s and Griff’s versions of Helen’s story.

Most of the plot elements fit together neatly, something we have come to expect from Mattison, who is very good with form. But characters, like Olive and Griff’s oldest daughter, are sometimes brought in to serve the plot, never to return. And some of Mattison’s plot twists feel improbable, especially the ones that are centered around Zach, a young pediatrician who was once involved with Olive and Griff’s daughter and is now involved with Jean. The New Haven story doesn’t have the same intensity as the Brooklyn one, and the friendship between Olive and Jean is not as convincing as the one between Olive and Helen.

But Conscience is a curious book. Every time I wanted to object, Mattison pulled me back in, some of which, I think, is connected to the book’s pacing, which is wonderfully slow and lush. Fiction tends to move at a fast clip these days — it’s full of fragments and ellipses, abrupt shifts that reflect our accelerated, decentered lives. But Mattison refuses to give up the rich, mundane details of domestic life — people talking, cooking, washing the dishes. It’s where her stories live.

Many of Mattison’s characters are well drawn: from important figures like Jean and Zach to minor characters like Eli, an older activist who sleeps with everyone (“[p]utting his hands on both our shoulders, he drew us into his apartment”), and some of the people at the shelter where Jean works. The youthful portraits of Olive and Helen are full of poignant details: from the windy walks they take in Brooklyn to get away from their families to Helen’s growing indifference to money, food, and hygiene. Mattison’s honesty about the less-than-noble motivations that sometimes drive the actions of her characters — to please a friend, to have sex, to get away from their parents — is refreshing. She doesn’t idealize; there are no heroes in this book — on the contrary. Mostly, we see the toll the war takes, the way each character struggles with the dictates of his or her conscience as the government continues to send young men off to war, continues to bomb and kill in Vietnam. As Olive says, “Being preoccupied by the war was something like having such a bad cold that you didn’t care what happened in your life.”

Several of the characters turn to violence. Some of them are destroyed by this and some of them repudiate it, but all of them feel guilty about what they did and didn’t do. Trying to make sense of the choices Helen made, Olive asks some questions that haunt the book: “What should she have done — what should I have done — to end the war? What should we have done instead? To say ‘nothing’ would condemn us to complicity.” Mattison never condemns the characters who opt for violence, but in the present-day story, where characters like Jean and Griff work tirelessly to help troubled kids and the homeless, she offers us a compelling alternative. The most interesting character in this regard is Griff, the agnostic son in a long line of New Haven clergymen, whose youthful act of violence changed his life. Unfortunately, we don’t understand as much about his choice as we do about Helen’s although we see the ways in which his life is circumscribed by it. Every decision he makes involves a painstaking consideration of the potential harm it may do to others, which causes some problems with Olive, but Griff’s condemnation of violence allows for no exceptions: “What’s wrong […] is wrong. What is destructive […] [d]estroys.”

From her earliest work, a 1979 poetry collection called Animals, Mattison has been invested in telling women’s stories, giving women space on the page. The female characters in Conscience are part of a long line of women — working women, sexual women, family women, thinking women — whose lives Mattison has lovingly captured and explored. Her portrayal of the men whose lives intersect with the lives of her female characters is usually nuanced and complex; they are sweet, distant, sexy, needy, human. But in Conscience, this isn’t always the case, which has to do, I think, with the character of Olive and the outsized role she plays in the book.

As a young woman, Olive is a little neurotic, the kind of girl who worries about being “liked” by other girls, a “secondary character,” as she once calls herself. Her political activism takes a back seat to Helen’s; her desire for approval eventually leads her to be used and burned by Val. As an adult, Olive is lonely; she feels abandoned by Helen, exhausted by the hard work of carving out a space for her career within the confines of marriage. Mostly, though, she’s angry at Griff, whom she blames for many of her problems, in ways that are sometimes tedious, even absurd. Griff can be a tough character, inexpressive and inflexible, but Mattison never succeeded in convincing me that Olive’s problems are his fault, and he comes off as a passive foil, a stand-in for the traditional inequity of male-female relationships. At a certain point, Olive’s critique of Griff is so egregious that I thought the book was going to be about how she recognizes and addresses this, but Mattison’s sympathies remain firmly with Olive. At the end of the book, when Olive agrees to a kitchen renovation that will create a space where she and Griff can coexist, it’s meant to signal love and acceptance, but it really feels like she’s throwing him some crumbs.

You could argue that Griff gets second billing because he’s a male character in a book about female empowerment, but Griff is also black, one of several black characters in the novel, none of whom have much of a voice, and this disparity becomes increasingly apparent as the novel unfolds. Over the course of her career, Mattison’s work has often been set in the world of social justice, including the Civil Rights movement, but her tendency — the old left’s tendency — to divide the world along the lines of race, gender, and ethnicity (black, Jewish, male, female) doesn’t serve the part of her story that takes place in New Haven in the 21st century.

Underlying the problems between Olive and Griff is the pressing question of how men and women (especially women) can live together with autonomy. Mattison, who places a great deal of value on family and community, can’t quite wrap her mind around it, but the novel hints at an intriguing solution. For years, I was married to an architect who had a theory — a convincing one — that many people’s problems are actually architectural problems, problems that can be resolved with architectural solutions, and I followed the architectural trail in the book eagerly. The repurposed duplex, Olive’s unsuccessful quest for a secluded work space, the third floor of Jean’s shelter that controversially offers “private space” — space to read or think or nap — to homeless people in New Haven. In Conscience, Olive and Griff are trapped in a marriage — and in a house — that doesn’t suit them. Could it be that some couples can’t coexist, at least in the traditional ways that couples have always coexisted in the Western world (another issue the ’60s tried, with limited success, to address)? Besides, Olive is a writer, and most writers, male or female, need solitary conditions to work in, conditions that often clash with family life. Mattison is hesitant to liberate Olive and Griff from a traditional marital structure, one that has created a terrible choice for them — a stifling marriage or an unhappy solitude. But what if that dichotomy were false? What if there was another solution, one that occurs, at one point, to Olive, almost as a joke: bring back the duplex!

In Conscience, Alice Mattison gives us an intimate portrait of the struggles and sacrifices of the men and women who protested against the war in Vietnam, some of whom, for better or worse, put their lives on the line. She also reminds us of what it is to have, and act on, a conscience, what it is to make a choice and accept the consequences. As Olive, trying to explain those difficult times to Zach, says, “The sixties weren’t—’ I didn’t know how to put it. ‘We were serious.’” As a new generation of protestors fights to defend our democracy against a different kind of threat, it’s good to remember the long, successful legacy of protests in this country, important to reflect on the risks and rewards of dissent.

It takes a long time to make sense of things, to paint a full picture of an important moment in history, especially one as fraught as the war in Vietnam, but this is the luxury (and, perhaps, the responsibility) of literature. And it should be applauded when it’s done well, as Mattison mostly does here.

¤

Lisa Fetchko has published essays, fiction, reviews, and translations in a variety of publications including Ploughshares, n+1, AGNI, and Bookforum. She teaches at Mount Saint Mary’s and Orange Coast College.

The post The Old Left: “Conscience” by Alice Mattison appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

from Los Angeles Review of Books https://ift.tt/2Ng168h via IFTTT

[topmixtrends]

IN THE EARLY 1980s, when I was a sophomore at Yale, I lived in a narrow clapboard house off-campus, somewhere east of Wooster Square. It wasn’t the happiest time in my life, but I had a small study with a big metal desk; my roommates were seniors, with one foot out the door; and there was a speakeasy around the corner where you could get a six-pack of beer on Sundays when everything else was closed.

We lived on the top floor; a couple in their 30s lived downstairs: the woman, who was Vietnamese, spoke little English and always looked frightened; her husband, who was white, was a Vietnam vet who would periodically get drunk and beat her. I’m not sure I would have had the courage to do so had I been living there alone, but my roommates often called the cops, who would come and intervene. My neighbors weren’t the first people I knew for whom the war in Vietnam hadn’t ended — I had friends in Pennsylvania whose older brothers had come back, completely changed. My stepfather, a mild-mannered neurosurgeon who had been a doctor in a busy MASH unit, would occasionally belt back a couple of drinks and fly into an inexplicable rage. I was curious about these people, wondered about the experiences that haunted them. But the war, and the protests surrounding it, seemed remote, something I would never comprehend in the way that we can’t really comprehend things we don’t live through, experiences whose most intimate details we will never know.

In Alice Mattison’s new novel, Conscience, we meet two characters for whom the war has not ended either. The novel, which is set in present-day New Haven (where Mattison lives and often sets her stories), is Mattison’s 14th book, her seventh novel in a long, distinguished career as a writer and a teacher. In an author’s note, she explains that the book grew out of her curiosity about an idealistic young woman she met in the ’60s who later “turned violent.” Among other things, the novel poses some interesting questions: How long does the past linger? What’s the value of rehashing it? How can we honor, forgive, or live with people who have done difficult things?

Mattison tells several stories in Conscience, and watching them grow and intersect is one of the greatest pleasures of the book. The first story begins in the mid-1960s, in Brooklyn, with three young women who become involved in the antiwar protests: Helen Weinstein, a serious girl who drops out of Barnard after she is radicalized; Valerie (Val) Benevento, a popular girl who will eventually write a successful book about Helen’s life; and Olive Grossman, Helen’s best friend, an editor who now lives in New Haven with her husband, Griff, the hard-working principal of a school for troubled kids, a gentle man who is marked, like Olive, by a violent incident that happened in the ’60s. Helen is the most compelling character in the novel, and it is Olive’s need to make sense of Helen’s life that moves the story forward.

Several other plot lines unfold over the course of the novel: Olive and Griff face an impasse in their marriage; the complex arcs of several female friendships are explored; and Olive finds the courage to tell the truth about her relationship with Helen, getting past what Virginia Woolf famously called the “angel in the house,” that dreadful expectation that women should be sweet and charming, avoiding conflict at all cost. Finally, there is the more contemporary story of a slightly younger woman named Jean, who runs a homeless shelter in New Haven. Her friendship with Olive dominates the second half of the book.

Conscience is told in alternating first-person voices. The shifting perspective works well, as a chorus of “I”s (there are three of them — Olive, Jean, and, to a lesser extent, Griff) helps build a collective sense of the collateral damage of the war and the noisy overlap of friends, family, and lovers that make up a community. At a certain point, the voices seem to blend and merge, becoming almost one, a tactile illustration of some of Mattison’s larger themes: family, friendship, community. The alternating voices also give the reader an intimate view of Olive and Griff’s marriage. Personal space is an important concern in the novel (especially for its female characters), and there are interesting issues related to the architecture of Olive and Griff’s house. Originally a duplex (Griff lived upstairs and Olive downstairs during a time of marital separation), the two units are now connected, but to some extent, the separation remains. Olive, who has a home office she never uses (strange since she is always craving solitude), spreads her work over the kitchen table, which annoys and pains Griff, who retreats upstairs or leaves the house. They often eat alone. As each character recounts their version of this conflict, the reader, like a couples’ therapist, pieces together their troubles, sees the misperceptions and the self-deceptions, and feels the loss of what might have been. In another example of Mattison’s clever use of shifting perspectives, Val’s book, which we learn about as Jean reads it, offers a different perspective on Olive’s and Griff’s versions of Helen’s story.

Most of the plot elements fit together neatly, something we have come to expect from Mattison, who is very good with form. But characters, like Olive and Griff’s oldest daughter, are sometimes brought in to serve the plot, never to return. And some of Mattison’s plot twists feel improbable, especially the ones that are centered around Zach, a young pediatrician who was once involved with Olive and Griff’s daughter and is now involved with Jean. The New Haven story doesn’t have the same intensity as the Brooklyn one, and the friendship between Olive and Jean is not as convincing as the one between Olive and Helen.

But Conscience is a curious book. Every time I wanted to object, Mattison pulled me back in, some of which, I think, is connected to the book’s pacing, which is wonderfully slow and lush. Fiction tends to move at a fast clip these days — it’s full of fragments and ellipses, abrupt shifts that reflect our accelerated, decentered lives. But Mattison refuses to give up the rich, mundane details of domestic life — people talking, cooking, washing the dishes. It’s where her stories live.

Many of Mattison’s characters are well drawn: from important figures like Jean and Zach to minor characters like Eli, an older activist who sleeps with everyone (“[p]utting his hands on both our shoulders, he drew us into his apartment”), and some of the people at the shelter where Jean works. The youthful portraits of Olive and Helen are full of poignant details: from the windy walks they take in Brooklyn to get away from their families to Helen’s growing indifference to money, food, and hygiene. Mattison’s honesty about the less-than-noble motivations that sometimes drive the actions of her characters — to please a friend, to have sex, to get away from their parents — is refreshing. She doesn’t idealize; there are no heroes in this book — on the contrary. Mostly, we see the toll the war takes, the way each character struggles with the dictates of his or her conscience as the government continues to send young men off to war, continues to bomb and kill in Vietnam. As Olive says, “Being preoccupied by the war was something like having such a bad cold that you didn’t care what happened in your life.”

Several of the characters turn to violence. Some of them are destroyed by this and some of them repudiate it, but all of them feel guilty about what they did and didn’t do. Trying to make sense of the choices Helen made, Olive asks some questions that haunt the book: “What should she have done — what should I have done — to end the war? What should we have done instead? To say ‘nothing’ would condemn us to complicity.” Mattison never condemns the characters who opt for violence, but in the present-day story, where characters like Jean and Griff work tirelessly to help troubled kids and the homeless, she offers us a compelling alternative. The most interesting character in this regard is Griff, the agnostic son in a long line of New Haven clergymen, whose youthful act of violence changed his life. Unfortunately, we don’t understand as much about his choice as we do about Helen’s although we see the ways in which his life is circumscribed by it. Every decision he makes involves a painstaking consideration of the potential harm it may do to others, which causes some problems with Olive, but Griff’s condemnation of violence allows for no exceptions: “What’s wrong […] is wrong. What is destructive […] [d]estroys.”

From her earliest work, a 1979 poetry collection called Animals, Mattison has been invested in telling women’s stories, giving women space on the page. The female characters in Conscience are part of a long line of women — working women, sexual women, family women, thinking women — whose lives Mattison has lovingly captured and explored. Her portrayal of the men whose lives intersect with the lives of her female characters is usually nuanced and complex; they are sweet, distant, sexy, needy, human. But in Conscience, this isn’t always the case, which has to do, I think, with the character of Olive and the outsized role she plays in the book.

As a young woman, Olive is a little neurotic, the kind of girl who worries about being “liked” by other girls, a “secondary character,” as she once calls herself. Her political activism takes a back seat to Helen’s; her desire for approval eventually leads her to be used and burned by Val. As an adult, Olive is lonely; she feels abandoned by Helen, exhausted by the hard work of carving out a space for her career within the confines of marriage. Mostly, though, she’s angry at Griff, whom she blames for many of her problems, in ways that are sometimes tedious, even absurd. Griff can be a tough character, inexpressive and inflexible, but Mattison never succeeded in convincing me that Olive’s problems are his fault, and he comes off as a passive foil, a stand-in for the traditional inequity of male-female relationships. At a certain point, Olive’s critique of Griff is so egregious that I thought the book was going to be about how she recognizes and addresses this, but Mattison’s sympathies remain firmly with Olive. At the end of the book, when Olive agrees to a kitchen renovation that will create a space where she and Griff can coexist, it’s meant to signal love and acceptance, but it really feels like she’s throwing him some crumbs.

You could argue that Griff gets second billing because he’s a male character in a book about female empowerment, but Griff is also black, one of several black characters in the novel, none of whom have much of a voice, and this disparity becomes increasingly apparent as the novel unfolds. Over the course of her career, Mattison’s work has often been set in the world of social justice, including the Civil Rights movement, but her tendency — the old left’s tendency — to divide the world along the lines of race, gender, and ethnicity (black, Jewish, male, female) doesn’t serve the part of her story that takes place in New Haven in the 21st century.

Underlying the problems between Olive and Griff is the pressing question of how men and women (especially women) can live together with autonomy. Mattison, who places a great deal of value on family and community, can’t quite wrap her mind around it, but the novel hints at an intriguing solution. For years, I was married to an architect who had a theory — a convincing one — that many people’s problems are actually architectural problems, problems that can be resolved with architectural solutions, and I followed the architectural trail in the book eagerly. The repurposed duplex, Olive’s unsuccessful quest for a secluded work space, the third floor of Jean’s shelter that controversially offers “private space” — space to read or think or nap — to homeless people in New Haven. In Conscience, Olive and Griff are trapped in a marriage — and in a house — that doesn’t suit them. Could it be that some couples can’t coexist, at least in the traditional ways that couples have always coexisted in the Western world (another issue the ’60s tried, with limited success, to address)? Besides, Olive is a writer, and most writers, male or female, need solitary conditions to work in, conditions that often clash with family life. Mattison is hesitant to liberate Olive and Griff from a traditional marital structure, one that has created a terrible choice for them — a stifling marriage or an unhappy solitude. But what if that dichotomy were false? What if there was another solution, one that occurs, at one point, to Olive, almost as a joke: bring back the duplex!

In Conscience, Alice Mattison gives us an intimate portrait of the struggles and sacrifices of the men and women who protested against the war in Vietnam, some of whom, for better or worse, put their lives on the line. She also reminds us of what it is to have, and act on, a conscience, what it is to make a choice and accept the consequences. As Olive, trying to explain those difficult times to Zach, says, “The sixties weren’t—’ I didn’t know how to put it. ‘We were serious.’” As a new generation of protestors fights to defend our democracy against a different kind of threat, it’s good to remember the long, successful legacy of protests in this country, important to reflect on the risks and rewards of dissent.

It takes a long time to make sense of things, to paint a full picture of an important moment in history, especially one as fraught as the war in Vietnam, but this is the luxury (and, perhaps, the responsibility) of literature. And it should be applauded when it’s done well, as Mattison mostly does here.

¤

Lisa Fetchko has published essays, fiction, reviews, and translations in a variety of publications including Ploughshares, n+1, AGNI, and Bookforum. She teaches at Mount Saint Mary’s and Orange Coast College.

The post The Old Left: “Conscience” by Alice Mattison appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

from Los Angeles Review of Books https://ift.tt/2Ng168h