#close reading

[wisteria-lodge]

I’d love if you ever expanded your thoughts on the way JKR writes romance, because it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. One thing that’s very interesting to me is that jealousy is used as a driving force for both of the main romantic storylines in HP. It’s more obvious with Ron/Hermione (the Yule Ball, basically everything that happens between them in book 6, the locket horcrux stuff) but also plays a big role in Harry/Ginny. Harry’s jealousy of her relationship with Dean is what makes him realize he’s into her, and moments where he’s pining for Ginny tend to focus on that jealousy more than an actual appreciation of Ginny’s personality. The most important part of writing a convincing romance is making readers believe that these characters actually care about each other and want to spend time together, and it feels like maybe what you describe as JKR’s obsession with pining made her lose sight of that. What do you think?

We've also got jealousy as a motif in Harry/Cho and Severus/Lily. It is absolutely a trope she uses, a lot. 

When I was trying to get my head around how JKR writes romance, the main thing that made it click for me was realizing that, to her - romance is inherently threatening. And/or embarrassing, overpowering, animalistic, dangerous. (thanks to @the-phoenix-heart for that line.) 

Really, the Harry Potter books are kind of a romance-free zone. It is incredibly unusual to see a romantic couple, acting like a couple, on the page. We spend a lot of time with Arthur and Molly, and while they’re both pretty fleshed out as characters, we get almost nothing of their couple dynamic (and what we do get doesn’t seem all that positive…) The blocking tends to physically separate them - Molly isn’t at the World Cup or Harry’s hearing, Arthur is working overtime when Harry is at the Burrow, etc. This is a pattern: her romantic couples, of which there are not many, have a way of being in different rooms, on different side quests, one of them is mind-controlled, one of them is unconscious, it cuts to black right before Harry kisses Cho, and right after he kisses Ginny.

Ron/Hermione takes place mostly outside of Harry’s perspective, and Harry/Ginny takes place mostly out of *the reader's* perspective. It’s a lot of narration, a lot of “Harry could not help himself talking to Ginny, laughing with her, walking back from practice with her” and “[Harry] was supposedly finishing his Herbology homework but in reality reliving a particularly happy hour he had spent down by the lake with Ginny at lunchtime.” Like, I don’t know. I might have liked to see those scenes play out.  

Bill/Fleur is probably her most successful couple (I mean, who doesn't like Bill and Fleur?) But even they almost never interact with each other. They talk about their relationship to other people, other people talk about them, but like… I’m just going to go through a rundown of every single time we see Bill and Fleur interact: 

 “’E is always so thoughtful,” purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his cornflakes.

(Romance = embarrassing) 

What if [Ron and Hermione] became like Bill and Fleur, and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that he was shut out for good?

(Romance = embarassing, threatening)

Most [of the people at Dumbledore’s funeral] Harry did not recognize, but a few he did, including (...) Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George

(put a pin in this one, I’m going to come back to it) 

“Bah,” said Fleur [in Harry’s body], checking herself in the microwave door, “Bill, don’t look at me — I’m ’ideous.”

(I actually think this is kind of cute in context, but unfortunately JKR is being uncharitable to her hyper-femme characters again, and making a joke about woman-in-male-body, which unfortunately makes it less cute in the grand scheme of things) 

“I’m taking Fleur on a thestral,” said Bill. “She’s not that fond of brooms.” Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.

(Romance = embarrassing) 

“We saw [Mad-Eye die]” said Bill; Fleur nodded, tear tracks glittering on her cheeks... 

(Not sure if this counts as them interacting, but they are at least next to each other)

“No,” said Bill at once, “I’ll do it, I’ll come.” “Where are you going?” said Tonks and Fleur together. “Mad-Eye’s body,” said Lupin. “We need to recover it.”

(this one doesn’t even frame them as a couple, since the teams have split into Bill and Lupin and Tonks and Fleur.) 

“We can’t tell you what we’re doing,” said Harry flatly. “You’re in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We’re not supposed to talk about it to anyone else.” Fleur made an impatient noise, but Bill did not look at her.”

(... does this imply that Fleur isn’t in the Order? Anyway, they’re married at this point, and kinda disagreeing a la Molly and Arthur) 

[Griphook] continued to request trays of food in his room, like the still frail Ollivander, until Bill (following an angry outburst from Fleur) went upstairs to tell him that the arrangement could not continue.

(Another conflict, but hey, at least it sounds like they resolved it. We hear about their daughter Victoire in the epilogue, but this is the last time we see Bill and Fleur together.) 

But, okay. Not putting romance in the Harry Potter books is a perfectly fine creative choice. JKR can absolutely decide she just wants to give other things more emotional weight. What clarified this for me was the Fantastic Beasts films and her adult literature (particularly the Cormoran Strike books.) In those, JKR is wanting to write romance. And yet....

In Fantastic Beasts, she can write the awkward getting-to-know-you pre-romance stuff, but the second Jacob and Queenie are actually a couple - he loses his memory, then he’s brainwashed, she’s with Grindelwald, they’re different plot lines that never intersect… and then they just get married at the end of Secrets of Dumbledore. So it’s not even a slow-burn, will-they-won’t-they thing. Tina and Newt get the same treatment, except their pre-romance getting-to-know-you beats are so subtle that a lot of people missed them completely. Then Tina's angry at Newt for a very silly misunderstanding… then in a separate plotline… and is only in the third film for two minutes at the end. People compare the structure of these films to Indiana Jones, but in those movies the love interest is actually hanging out with Indy the whole time. In the Cormoran Strike books, the romantic leads do spend time together, but they’ve also been doing a pining, bad timing, will they/won’t they back-and-forth thing for seven books. And they’re long books. 

So okay. What’s going on. Why is this. 

JK Rowling has been very public about the trauma she has from abusive relationships and sexual assault, and I’m afraid I do have to bring that up in a conversation about why she treats romance so negatively. More specifically - if I had to guess - I think she finds male attraction towards women threatening. (I’m sure we all remember Harry’s chest monster.)  I think she feels a little icky writing it, which is why when she does do it… it feels perfunctory, generic, repetitive, and also not the sort of thing that would come from a teenage boy. (Like when has a 14-year-old boy ever thought a girl was pretty because she had nice teeth. That’s such a straight girl compliment.) BUT, when she writes about the attractiveness of guys - it gets more specific, more nuanced, more interesting, and also a lot less uncomfortable. J.K. Rowling likes guys! She’s allowed. 

But of course, she also tends to write male viewpoint characters, and I think this is why a lot of her guys (and Harry specifically) kinda read as queer to a lot of people. We’re told Harry is distracted by/attracted to Cho Chang… but is he though? Compared to the way “pretty boy” Cedric, or “sleek haired” Draco get under his skin? 

I want to take a look at her adult romantic leads for a second. Because in Fantastic Beasts, she really did pull out all the stops to make Newt and Jacob as non-threatening as humanly possible. Newt is a gentle, pacifist, Doctor Dolittle-type conservationist who barely seems interested in women at all, and Jacob… is a Muggle baker. She pairs Newt with Tina, tough as nails American star auror. Jacob is with Queenie, who is constantly literally reading his mind. Which is an ability we’ve only seen with the most powerful wizards. These guys are not a threat to these ladies. In Queenie’s case, the power balance is tipped so insanely far in her direction that I’m a little bit worried for Jacob (and she does in fact, bewitch him into doing stuff.) I think JKR wrote her couples this way so any romance she wrote with them would also feel safe… and sadly I don’t think it worked. The most fleshed out couple dynamic we get is Dumbledore/Grindelwald, who have a coffee date and a duel in the third movie. But - that’s the one movie where she doesn’t have sole screenwriting credit, they’re exes, and they're also both GUYS, so she doesn’t have to worry about any kind of male/female power imbalance gunk, or put herself in the headspace of a guy being attracted to women.

Now I do want to talk about Cormoran Strike. Of all her non-threatening male love interests, this is the one who seems to work best for her. She’s stuck with him the longest, and it actually seems possible that we might get an actual romantic scene with him in the next book. 

Here’s my theory. I think that when JKR was writing Goblet of Fire, and it came time to introduce the real Mad-Eye Moody - imprisoned in the bottom of his own trunk, weak, down a leg and an eye -  something clicked. Because that is someone who is both entirely masculine, and entirely safe, and that makes him the perfect romantic figure. And I absolutely think she grabbed that archetype when it came to writing Cormoran Strike.

Basically, this character just is Mad-Eye Moody, only 15(ish) years younger, and non-magical. Strike is an ex-military cop who now freelances. He’s older than his love interest, he’s been around the block a few times. He’s gruff, but careful and kind, world-weary and grizzled, extremely capable, principled, tough, and just sort of hyper aware of what’s going on around him. He is also a bigger guy with some access weight who is not “conventionally attractive” - and for JKR this is a feature, not a bug. If your female character is into someone who is not *~*~handsome~*~* that means they’re cool, deep, not like other girls. Viktor Krum is not conventionally attractive, and (after the werewolf attack) neither is Bill. In fact “he now bore a distinct resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody.” JKR likes Mad-Eye Moody. 

And you better believe that Cormoran Strike has a broken nose and a missing leg, just like Mad-Eye Moody. Strike’s prosthetic leg comes up a *lot.* I think it’s telling that the loving interaction we see between Bill and Fleur is her physically supporting him at Dumbledore's funeral post werewolf attack, and the loving little wrist squeeze we get between Lucius and Narcissa is right before Lucius hands his wand over. Basically, JKR likes someone who is sexy and capable and has a lot of presence, but who you get to take care of, and who… can’t chase you. Doesn’t pose a threat. That's the fantasy. 

[theweeklydiscourse]

What Makes Feyre’s Pregnancy Plotline in A Court of Silver Flames so Upsetting?

The answer is that the events and outcome concerning Feyre’s pregnancy speak to a fear of one’s loss of autonomy, specifically one’s reproductive autonomy. Furthermore, this plotline demonstrates Maas' consistent prioritization of her male characters at the expense of her female characters. Multiple factors make this subplot feel particularly uncomfortable and upsetting, but I can condense them into three main points that converge to create one frustrating scenario.

1. Rhysand and the Question of Choice

From ACOMAF onwards, the reader is made aware of Rhysand’s unusually progressive politics and his attention to the autonomous choices of women. This is demonstrated through his selection of counsel, appointing Mor and Amren in roles of authority, and eventually crowing Feyre as High Lady of the Night Court. In addition to this, we are shown his emphasis on choice through his interactions with Feyre. Rhysand repeatedly reminds Feyre that she can choose, that she can make an autonomous decision that he will respect. So, it is these positive features of Rhysand that make the pregnancy subplot of ACOSF so disturbing.

He, and the Inner Circle by extension, purposefully omit the information that Feyre’s pregnancy will turn deadly and never volunteer the information to her. During Cassian’s meeting with Rhysand and Amren, we are shown their thought process behind withholding information from Nesta (and Feyre by extension) According to Amren, it is not lying because they are technically not telling lies in the traditional sense, only withholding information.

While this is about Nesta, the reader can see the parallels between both cases. The choice to lie by omission reveals that both Amren and Rhysand are aware of the dishonesty of their actions, choosing to mitigate it slightly on a technicality. It feels distinctly like a loophole in Rhysand’s previous promises to Feyre, making this act feel more deceitful while demonstrating Rhysand’s willingness to undermine Feyre’s authority as High Lady. If Rhysand had a condition or illness that would eventually kill him, informing him of it would be certain, you wouldn’t even consider the possibility of not telling him. However, because Feyre is pregnant, she is not afforded the same autonomy.

Wanting to keep Feyre in blissful ignorance is not a sufficient reason, especially when Feyre is still of sound mind and can advocate for herself. Rhysand’s reasoning sounds noble, but in reality, it is just benevolent sexism. It doesn’t matter if he thinks it will cause Feyre stress, she NEEDS to be aware of what’s going on and the fact that the news will ruin her peaceful pregnancy is of little consequence when her life is on the line. Rhysand prioritizes his feelings and implicitly gives himself executive authority over Feyre’s pregnancy, demonstrating his disregard for her autonomy and choices. This action directly contradicts the progressive beliefs Rhysand stated in previous books and is a betrayal for the reader as well as Feyre.

2. The Infantilization of Feyre

The omission of this critical information, good intentions or not, is based on a belief that Feyre would not be competent enough to handle such a pressing situation in her pregnant state. Amren claims that the stress and fear could have physically harmed Feyre, but such a claim assumes that Feyre would not have the fortitude or ability to handle the situation.

Amren's explanation demonstrates a belief that Feyre's input on the matter would be irrelevant and pointless because it prevents Feyre from offering any. It is a plan that assumes Feyre will not be able to add anything meaningful to the solution and that it would be less harmful to her if she was kept out of it. This is infantilizing and paternalistic because Feyre has proven herself to be capable of coping under pressure and happens to be an unprecedented magical anomaly. Feyre’s access to pertinent medical information should not be revoked and it is insane that Madja her physician, actively misleads her with Rhysand’s consent.

This infantilization of a pregnant character echoes how pregnant women have been infantilized throughout history. It is a terrifying thought to imagine that your bodily autonomy could be stripped from you in the name of serving your supposed best interest. Rosemary’s Baby is one of the most famous horror movies of all time and it explores this exact topic, the same is true for the short story The Yellow Wallpaper, both stories capture the horror of reproductive/medical abuse that still happens to women today.

3. The Aftermath & Prioritizing Male Rage

Lastly, one of the most disturbing elements of this subplot is the way the text consistently prioritizes and coddles the violent rage of male characters at the expense of female characters. This is on full display when Rhysand flies into an intense rage after Nesta reveals the truth to Feyre. Although Nesta can be faulted for her harsh phrasing, let it be known that even Feyre felt that she did the right thing and was expressing her anger at the paternalistic and unjust practices of the Inner Circle. However, Nesta is still subjected to severe physical and emotional punishment in the form of a grueling hike where she is left to stew in her guilt and suicidal ideation despite Feyre ultimately not faulting her.

Feyre admits that Rhysand “majorly overreacted” and that she wanted Nesta back in Velaris. And yet, Nesta is still punished. But why? Will Rhysand or any of the Inner Circle be punished for betraying Feyre? Why, if Feyre agreed that Nesta was right to tell her, would she ever need to be subjected to a severe punishment when she was justified in what she did?

This is a particularly telling detail that compels me to ask: is this punishment about Feyre’s feelings or Rhysand’s? Why is it that Rhysand’s “overreaction” needs to be assuaged by punishing Nesta? What I observe from this passage is the characters prioritizing the feelings of a male character and placating him with the suffering of a female character, even when he wasn’t the one who was hurt in that situation. Feyre asks Cassian to tell Rhysand that the hike will be Nesta's punishment as though it isn't truly a punishment, but it undoubtedly is.

Throughout the hike, Nesta is in a silent spiral of guilt and self-hatred, Cassian never tells her that Feyre is alright and that Rhysand overreacted, letting her dwell in it alone. He hardly speaks to her, he pushes her to the point of exhaustion and is somehow surprised that Nesta shows signs of suicidal ideation.

This isn't constructive at all, it is not evidence that Cassian cares about Nesta's well-being, and the scenes of Nesta internally repeating that she deserves to die and that everyone hates her are nothing but gratuitous and disgustingly self-indulgent. The text basks in Nesta's suffering, even when she was in the right and this hike only happened to placate Rhysand who wronged Feyre in the first place.

Hindsight am I right? Fuck off. A more productive resolution to this matter would be for Feyre and Nesta to talk it out ALONE. Feyre could express her feelings to Nesta directly and they could find a solution together, that way Feyre’s situation could be centered on the two sisters working together. Cassian can see that Feyre is alright, she’s obviously upset, but she didn’t crumble like he expected and that makes it completely baffling that he would punish Nesta anyway. It’s a solution that prioritizes his and Rhysand’s feelings as opposed to Feyre’s, making it not about a perceived transgression against Feyre, but against Rhysand.

In Conclusion

This topic has already been discussed at length by many people in the fandom, but it is a topic that still stays on my mind with how upsetting it is. It is a stunning example of the misogynistic undertones in Sarah J Maas’s writing and makes reading a very straining experience due to her obvious bias towards certain male characters. Not even her main character matters when Rhysand is factored into the situation, his emotions are always centred by other characters and is permitted to betray his wife and get off scot free.

Feyre’s reproductive autonomy is violated, and Maas doesn’t bat an eye. But when Nesta rightfully reveals the truth to Feyre, everyone loses their mind. Both Nesta and Feyre have their autonomy stripped away from the, by way of the Inner Circle’s paternalism, and when Nesta advocates for herself and Feyre, she is punished severely. Being put in her place as the hierarchy is strengthened.

[melestasflight]

In the Silmarillion fandom, we enjoy grabbing the trope of “Nolofinwëan recklessness” and running wild with it. 

The most common victims of this are Fingon the Rash Prince and Fingolfin the Impulsive King, who rushes into suicidal combat. Both father and son daring death within Morgoth’s domain. 

It’s fun to write and exciting to imagine, no doubt, but I’d like to offer a different take. In fact, what makes Fingon and Fingolfin (and the rest of that family) compelling to me is their patience and endurance.

Yes, I’m aware Fingon rushes to battle at Alqualondë, but that’s a world-altering event. The light of the world has literally gone out, murder has happened in Valinor, Finwë is dead. Most of the Noldor are up on their feet and ready to depart. Everyone is rushing.

But this is not always the case with Fingon. Most significantly, the rescue of Maedhros is NOT an impulsive decision. The published Silmarillion offers no timeline on this, but in The Grey Annals, five entire years pass between the arrival of Fingolfin’s host to Beleriand and Fingon’s decision to look for Maedhros. 

Five years in which the two hosts are quite literally on the verge of civil war because, let’s not forget:

No love was there in the hearts of those that followed Fingolfin for the House of Fëanor, for the agony of those that endured the crossing of the Ice had been great, and Fingolfin held the sons the accomplices of their father. 

Diplomacy is a painfully slow (and absolutely frustrating!) ordeal. Fingon’s decision is born from this strife, from thirty years on the Helcaraxë, and five years of civil restlessness, not to mention the clear signs that Morgoth is ready to attack them at any moment:

Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war; for the earth trembled in the Northlands with the thunder of the forges of Morgoth underground. 

This is not rashness. This is the sacrifice of a captain who is willing to make the best of what time is left before full-out destruction begins. It would be rashness if Fingon got his company and crossed Mithrim to wage battle on the Fëanorians. Instead, he chooses differently for the sake of peace, stability, and renewed friendship.

The trek from Lake Mithrim to Thangorodrim could be estimated at around 150 miles, depending on the map we follow, and there are grasslands and two sets of mountains to cross, not to mention the horror of Thangorodrim. Fingon travels on foot. It would take him weeks, maybe even months, to find Maedhros. Plenty of time for the fire of rashness to cool down if that was the case. But he persists because he has no other choice.

Similarly, I often see takes on Fingolfin that he rushes to pointless combat with Morgoth in the same manner as Fëanor had done. Yet again, the timeline is crucial here. The published Silmarillion has the battle lasting at least several months. Bragollach starts in F.A. 455 during winter time: 

There came a time of winter, when night was dark and without moon

The battle slows down presumably a few months later:

but the Battle of Sudden Flame is held to have ended with the coming of spring, when the onslaught of Morgoth grew less.

The onslaught grows less, but it doesn’t fully cease. Morgoth and Sauron reissue their attacks early into Fingon’s kingship.

In the Grey Annals, the timeline  is stretched further out:

Year 455:

The Fell Year. Here came an end of peace and mirth. In the winter, at the year's beginning, Morgoth unloosed at last his long-gathered strength

Year 456:

Now Fingolfin, King of the Noldor, beheld (as it seemed to him) the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses, and he was filled with wrath and despair.

The fighting goes on actively anywhere from a season to a full year! Fingolfin tries to hold his kingdom together for a full year despite an absolute, unquestionable disaster. I mean, look at this description of the battle:

In the front of that fire came Glaurung the golden, father of dragons, in his full might; and in his train were Balrogs, and behind them came the black armies of the Orcs in multitudes such as the Noldor had never before seen or imagined. And they assaulted the fortresses of the Noldor, and broke the leaguer about Angband, and slew wherever they found them the Noldor and their allies, Grey elves and Men. Many of the stoutest of the foes of Morgoth were destroyed in the first days of that war, bewildered and dispersed and unable to muster their strength. War ceased not wholly ever again in Beleriand

Fingolfin’s decision to ride out, again, is not out of recklessness or a spur-of-the-moment decision. It’s everything but that. He has given everything and truly believes it’s all lost: “the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses.” (!!!) 

This is a final stand, the King’s duty to stand by his people, even in death.

[sepublic]

I appreciate the words “found time” in this title because it means that’s not all he was doing. That he’s been doing other things, possibly been more busy with those if he needed to find time, and those things might’ve even been helping solve the murder of Ramsey! It really highlights the absurdity that he’s selfish for having a hobby as a priority in any capacity, rather than his priorities solely being problems that need to be solved.

And it does implicitly indicate, yknow, that part of the premise for this take being absurd is that he IS doing something for the world, he can do both. He could easily enjoy himself and help people at the same time. And that his happiness shouldn’t have to derive solely from helping people. People who only care about their own comfort and not addressing the world’s ills in any capacity ARE an issue, but this man is not one of them, not necessarily because he had to find time when most of it is occupied with something else, gee I wonder what?

[everythingseasoning]

M’s Anime Analysis Masterlist*

includes: Haikyu!!, HunterxHunter, A Lull in The Sea, My Hero Academia, Attack on Titan, Jujutsu Kaisen, Dandadan, more to come!

diary entries and other insights: FOUND HERE*

Character Analysis’

JJK

Suguru Geto In Depth

Satoru Gojo

What did Gojo say to Geto before Killing Him?

The Mischaracterization of Gojo in the JJK fandom - Semi Brief

Megumi Fushiguro Brief

Sukuna’s Motivations and some JJK philosophy

Dandadan

Turbo Granny (Dandadan)

Duo/Dynamic Analysis’

JJK

Satosugu brief analysis

SatoSugu In Depth: Why Gojo and Geto could connect despite Gojo’s life of isolation + What the two meant to each other + What could’ve been

[innocentlymacabre]

god i'm such a whore for juxtapositional dichotomy. top ten literary tools honestly.

what do you mean someone is their own foil? what do you mean they contain multitudes, all sitting at odds with one another? why haven't they burst forth at the seems? how are they holding it all together? it's so intricate. it's so beautiful. it's so interesting.

[guys-in-distress-database]

So I was rewatching the GID scene from Idolish7 and I realized something quite clever about the writing.

Two of the three kidnapped idols are held in abandoned, isolated buildings and are not gagged. Makes sense. No need to gag them if no one can hear them.

But the third?

He's held in an apartment building. And guess what?

He's gagged!

I love clever writing details like that in bondage scenes!

[tinysnailtales]

Thoughts from reading Yona of the Dawn Ch. 1 (Part 1)

"I had no idea it could get so cold outside the palace walls"

Yona is sheltered (and smothered), isolated within her life at the palace + ignorant of outside world. But will learn the world can be (literally but also metaphorically) cold and cruel

It may very well be Yona's destiny to succeed her father and rule.

"Father..." the first word Yona says (chronologically in the story)–an important figure to Yona and the story. One of the few people in her isolated life and someone whose presence will hang over everything.

"Do you think there's something wrong with my hair?" Yona's hair too, will be very important and hang over and affect the entire story. It is immediately introduced to the reader.

This moment also shows that Yona cares about her looks–she is self-conscious about her hair but likes her face ("well, my face is pleasing") and tries to look her best for Soo-Won. This preoccupation with looks may seem "girlish" or frivolous, but the meaning of Yona's hair goes deeper. Yona is also a combination of confidence and insecurity.

And, in typical fashion, what makes Yona special and unique is what she is self-conscious about.

Sometimes (usually) introductions and openings to stories can be quite clunky with their exposition. Regardless, here we meet Hak, who: is 18, grew up with Yona, and is her personal guard and a highly skilled general.

We also get an idea about his relationship with Yona. Hak and Yona are comfortable with each other to the point of teasing (in spite of their difference in station). It is interesting to see the popularity of the teasing trope for potential love interests. Though it shows a level of comfort, it also does involve poking at each other's insecurities. Yona is presented as the one more affected by Hak's words but I bet he is just as affected, only he keeps his reactions bottled up inside.

Hak is even the one to change the subject, bringing up Soo-Won. His knowledge of Yona's crush on Soo-Won further demonstrates their closeness and his pivot to that topic is revealing.

In a way, Hak and Yona behave like children with each other. And though 16 (Yona) and 18 (Hak) are presented as being at ages of maturity/relating to adulthood within their society, they are essentially still children. And sometimes the child self can be part of the truest self.

Nevertheless, Yona wants to be taken seriously and viewed as a woman (her care for her appearance, though "girlish," functioning as a way to signal her womanhood), but Soo-Won thinks of her as a child too.

It doesn't seem to be the equal-footing type of childishness seen with Hak and Yona, but more that of an adult looking down on and caring for a child. Yona is perceptive enough to pick up on this.

The head pat is particularly indicative of this relationship dynamic. How will different forms of physical touch function throughout the story? Soo-Won also does a lot of embracing Yona from behind.

I recently finished Fruits Basket, so this makes me giggle a little, but Soo-Won asserts himself as a replacement mother for Yona. They both have a deep care for each other, but there is a sharp contrast in how they each view the context of that care. Soo-Won nurtures and comforts Yona.

And while Yona is so loved and cherished (and pampered) by her father, she is still somewhat neglected by him (he is the King after all) and needed Soo-Won to step in. She's LONELY.

Soo-Won provided Yona with both companionship and care, and there is a repetition of him opposing her loneliness. Over and over we see him assert that he's there for Yona.

And with his "I'm right here" / "I'll always be with you" / "You're not alone," Soo-Won tells her to cry. He lets her cry. But it is always followed by the notion that she should cry so she can smile.

"It's okay. You can cry now" feels like a comfort, like an acknowledgment and acceptance of Yona's negative emotions. But the insistence on smiling feels like the opposite, like a suppression of emotions. There is an acceptance and rejection of Yona's sadness and negative emotions. A desire to see her happy fuels the push to move on from the negative.

The letting out of the tears and return of Yona's smile is sort of becomes predicated on Soo-Won's presence. Everything is okay because he is there. She can smile because he is there.

"You are the center of my world" – truly the fact of the matter. Whether intentional or not, Soo-Won made Yona reliant on him.

But of course, we can't forget Hak, her literal guard. This scene with the horseback riding has all kinds of symbolism.

"Relax. Hak and I will take care of you" –both Soo-Won and Hak save Yona's life at some point. Soo-Won in their youth, helping her recover from her mother's death and Hak when Soo-Won's plans for King Il come to a head (and after).

Soo-Won specifically acts like an anchor for Yona, in this scene and her life. He promises "Here, I'll hold you steady," and he does, or rather, he did. He will then go on to do the opposite, flipping Yona's world completely upside-down. Notably, Hak is the one who boosts her up in this scene.

The horseback riding also showcases how close Soo-Won and Hak are too and includes a nice nod to Yona's future endeavors with archery.

Though here, amusingly, Yona's desire to practice archery with Soo-Won is caused by a sort of lust for him. I think this moment emphasizes her attraction and that line between woman and girl that Yona is experiencing (her coming-of-age, if you will). While Yona sees Soo-Won as a man, he sees her as a girl (not a woman).

And as Soo-Won is her world, Yona's actions revolve around him. She doesn't really think a lot of herself, or when she does, it is only in terms of being with him. Soo-Won drives her actions and motivations. This emphasizes how small her world is– she is basically living for their interactions and doesn't think beyond that. She can't imagine anything beyond that.

Something I really admire is how open/honest Yona is about her feelings.

"'I do [like horses].' But I like you more." Yona doesn't seem very impressive when it comes to strength or skills, but her honesty is its own kind of bravery and strength.

It isn't exactly done with purpose, and involves some lack of filter when spoken aloud ("Nooo, why did I say that?! Extremely relatable, Yona), but it is endearing. Her thoughts kind of overflow and instinctually pour out.

Ah, the classic "fake relationship to lovers," I see you.

"Servant or not, Hak's the only boy I know close to my age..." Poor Yona, is so isolated and has such a small circle! This is also a funny bit of foreshadowing considering how many boys her age she will soon meet.

It's interesting with how much King Il gives Yona that he insists he will be the one to choose who she weds. And he clearly does not want Soo-Won to become king. Why?

Yona is also presented as a path to the throne rather than someone who herself could rule.

Also: "I've given you all you've ever wanted...everything except weapons" stands out to me as while maybe he hasn't given Yona weapons she can use directly, he has given her Hak, and isn't Hak the greatest weapon of all?

I feel like there has to be more to the story here. With information we learn later, did Soo-Won's father kill Yona's mother?

The emphasis on King Il as a coward makes me think cowardice will be a reoccurring theme.

Continued in part 2!

[mechanical-prophet]

So anyways, while I was going through and looking for clips I notice some of the visual story telling beats this episode was doing and thought it'd be fun to collect some here. Spoilers for S308 if you haven't seen it yet. Gathering clouds

The episode basically opens with these shots, the idea here is very much that of gathering clouds. They symbolize the gathering storm that is not only the results of the audition but what follows that as well. The cloud motif is something that is touched on as the episode progresses, and gets combined with another visual motif.

In this shot the camera changes focus from the spider's web to the clouds looming in the background. This shot sets up another later on, but itself is a reference to a visual motif used on the earlier seasons. The spider web representing a trap of sorts. We see that trap get combined with the symbology of the gathering clouds, linking it to the auditions.

The next few are from the morning of the auditions, before they occur, we see cloudless skies. Maybe there supposed to indicate a feeling that worse has come to pass, that the clouds broke before the storm could fully form. Maybe hope that Kumiko has that the previous omens were just falsehoods.

But of course this isn't the case. Not only are the clouds back, a rejection of the notion of clear skies communicated prior, a butterfly is now trapped in that spiders web. Its a pay off for the earlier shot and represents Kumiko fully falling to that trap. Being the last shot in the episode its surely an ominous portent of things to come!

[fshoulders]

Just saw someone on here say the Baz Luhrmann Romeo & Juliet is “considered the most faithful movie version of Romeo and Juliet” and had to stop myself from chasing them down the internet like the meme goose going “BY WHO?! BY WHO!?????” Don’t start internet beef over this, self! They didn’t say THEY liked it best! They might be an innocent bystander! Also you are weirdly aggressive about Shakespeare!

Okay, deep breath, short post. Short post! We can do this!

Romeo and Juliet has an oddly small cinematic footprint, compared to its cultural impact. That’s probably why Luhrmann’s version can still hold any primacy. (Gods, are there English teachers showing this in class? Because they don’t have to fast-forward through the Zefferelli nudity? What a thought. Stay on target.) I can only theorize that other Shakespeare plays get more adaptations because they’re centered on a huge male role, so they can be a Serious Showpiece for a single male actor. R&J doesn’t operate that way.

And in my experience (having seen four or five live productions, off the top of my head) it’s a play that really lives in the theater. Stupid as it sounds, every time I see Romeo and Juliet live, some part of me feels like this time, it might end happy. The letter might not go astray: the messenger won’t get caught in a quarantine, Romeo will know Juliet isn’t dead, and everything will turn out fine. It’s so often noted that the play isn’t structured as a tragedy, but as a New Comedy (like Midsummer Night’s Dream, et c. — a story about young people defying their parents for love) that goes wrong: somehow this works on me, in person, such that I really think maybe we’ll pull it off! The kids will be all right, the parents will be chastened, and all will end well. It breaks my heart, every time, when it doesn’t.

I have small quibbles with the Luhrmann R&J, but I won’t enumerate them here. I simply want to point out that Luhrmann makes the most appalling directorial choice he possibly could. And he’s not the only one! This choice was in vogue during the 19th century in England (which is also when Bowdler took the naughty bits out of Shakespeare, so…yeah. Not very concerned with being faithful to the text.) Luhrmann, and the rest of the 19th century text-criminals, have Juliet wake up while Romeo is still dying.

I suppose some of you are now going, “why is that such a terrible thing? It allows for more acting!” Well, yeah, that’s why the hams of the London stage liked to do it in Romantic and Victorian times. Everything for more melodrama!

But it’s a sin against the text, and I’ll tell you why. That breathless stupid hope I talked about above, that the entire play’s structure induces? The hope that everything will turn out right? It builds up in you like a flood, and everything goes wrong again, and the entire weight of your hope is penned up in your heart, and they came so close! It was so close to being all right, but Romeo kills himself, and nothing will be all right.

And Juliet wakes up, still a citizen of the Country of Hope where this trick is so clever and Romeo’s going to save her, and she finds him there. And nothing makes sense to her. He was supposed to be here, but he was supposed to be alive. It’s a cruel inversion of her hopes, it’s her love made Death at last, it’s her whole world collapsing. We know how close it came to being all right, but she doesn’t know. She despairs. She sees he poisoned himself. And then she kisses him. And she says,

“Thy lips are warm.”

Now she knows as clearly as we do how nearly they were together, how close they came to a happy ending. Total understanding crashes over her, and crashes out of us. It’s the perfectly weighted moment of catharsis for the entire play. No lie: just typing her words above, I started crying with no warning. It’s the sharpened point of the play in Juliet’s heart, and ours. Those four words are the most devastating, understated thing. They are the cold, uncaring touch of Death.

And if she saw him die, they don’t work. They make no sense. She sounds like a fool saying them. And the whole weight of the play lands wrong, because some director thought he knew better than William Shakespeare how to wring the salt tears from human hearts.

[rycbarmerlin]

SPOILERS FOR THE WITCHER S3 VOL. 1

Will be discussing Extraordinary Things, other Jaskier things and Vol. 2 predictions! It's a fairly long scroll!

----

I've been seeing lots of people giving their thoughts about Extraordinary Things so I thought I'd give my thoughts and interpretations.

Who is the song about?

People have been umm-ing and ahh-ing about whether it's about Geralt or Radovid (or other) but I definitely feel like it is about both of them. The premise of the situation is Jaskier is playing a few songs for Radovid and company, implying these are songs Jaskier has had in his repertoire for a while. This is where the song could definitely be interpreted to be solely about Geralt. However, from a kind of story perspective, I think the song works as a way to frame Jaskier and Radovid's romantic entanglement.

The immediate parallel I can think of for this technique is in episode 1 with Yennefer's narration of her letters to Geralt (which I LOVED🥹). The letters act as situational and emotional context for the viewer; they tell us where Geralt and Yennefer's relationship is at and an impression of the time passed since Kaen Mohren, all without bloating the episode with snapshots of these moments.

I think, therefore, Extraordinary Things acts as a look towards what Jaskier and Radovid could become, and what they could find in and through each other. Joey Batey said that he wrote Extraordinary Things to replace scenes of dialogue, because it could say just as much, if not more. Hence why I think the song reflects Jaskier's present/past/future.

"The greatest songs are made up of unspoken words of love / of them I have had enough"

These lines, I feel, are most definitely about Geralt. You only have to think of his set-up for Toss a Coin to Your Witcher and Jaskier's line "respect doesn't make history." His career became oriented by singing the praise of the White Wolf in epic ballad styles of quests and battles against foes. Of course, then comes the mountain™ moment and then Burn Butcher Burn. I think (depsite what the showrunners have said and that platonic line this volume) Jaskier has been in love with Geralt. Jaskier loves love, he loves people, why wouldn't he have loved Geralt? I still feel the pronoun usage in Her Sweet Kiss makes the song ambigious in its position regarding his feeling and whose perspective he is singing in. The "I forgive you" line in 3x04, alongside S1 Jaskier's "and yet, here we are" and "just trying to work out what pleases me" lines further contribute to this. Furthermore, as Jaskier confirms with Yennefer about Burn Butcher Burn, "Fine, yes, when I wrote it, it did come from the heart. Perhaps a broken one."

Now, returning to Extraordinary Things, Jaskier's role as a bard is different now - he isn't travelling the Continent trying to be a barker for Geralt. He is the Sandpiper, he has found his higher purpose, the thing he truly cares about and wants to make a difference with (*plays Song of the Seven.*) Those days of Jaskier following Geralt round on uneven terms are over. They have a different dynamic now so those Toss a Coin days, of them he's had enough.

Joey lingers on the line "of them i've had enough" which I think emphasises the feelings I mentioned above. He also beautifully expresses this kind of cocktail of bittersweet regret, longing, acceptance, self-awareness and defiance before singing the following lines:

With you I have enough / with you I am enough / I am enough

Radovid sees Jaskier as Jaskier sees Radovid. They both seem to be able to look beyond the carefully constructed masks they both put up. And yes, it certainly feels they both know that they can "take" each other's hearts, and "break" each other's heart as they're both playing a dangerous game. And yes, the way and time Jaskier sings the song, him and Radovid have only had a few scenes together, but I think this circles back to the fact of this song acting as a framing device for what Jaskier and Radovid could be.

Radovid's admission in episode 4 that Jaskier sees the best in people, while the truth, Radovid is implicating that where Jaskier is seeing the best in Radovid, there are the darker/more nefarious secrets and conspiracies which Radovid is embroiled in. But when you find that person that sees you as you are, especially when many people perceive you as this one-dimensional thing, that can throw logic and rationale out the window.

Regarding Radovid's/Jaskier's position this season, Radovid, I don't think, ever intended to catch feelings for Jaskier, and nor did Jaskier. Jaskier, I think is trying to use his position to protect the people he loves and protect the elves, trying to play both sides. Ultimately, I don't think this is going to work. I feel the season (and Time of Contempt which is the Sapkowski novel the season is predominantly based upon) is all about the reality that you have to pick a side, neutrality is no longer an option, and from what Joey has said, Jaskier is not as good at all this political manouevering than he thinks.

My personal prediction for Vol 2 and what could happen is that Jaskier may find himself in trouble with Dijkstra and Radovid will use his position to get Jaskier out of it. It may be a case where Radovid betrays Jaskier (as one feels is bound to happen) but, as I said, Radovid would ultimately save Jaskier as his kind of 'redemption' moment. Their romantic entanglement feels doomed, but the fact that these feelings can blossom and bloom in such a time of war and struggle and violence is hopeful in a way.

It's not a want / it's a need / it's paying no heed to what others say / to sing

This line almost adds to that feeling of doomed romance - they're playing "no heed" to what would be expected of them (a standard or uncomplicated romance). I also love this line in the context of Jaskier's conversation with Yennefer in Oxenfurt when he is discussing the persecution of the elves. Being queer makes him an 'Other'. Just being in a nonstraight relationship, he is "paying no heed" to the kind of relationship ("song") he is expected to have.

My final thing, slightly unrelated, is that I reallllly hope Jaskier and Rience have a scene together in vol. 2. I am so pleased that Jaskier's trauma from Rience has been discussed so I would just love to see Jaskier in a situation where he is confronted with it - and hopefully sticks it to Rience!

And thus indeeds my far too long ramble about all things Jaskier. Time of Contempt is one my favourite books ever but I didn't want to cross-reference my thoughts with it too much as that is even more spoilers. If you've made it this far, I would love to have a chat about what you all think! Obviously this is just my interpretation and i'm an english graduate so will find any excuse to write an essay lol. Now the wait for vol 2...

END OF POST!!! YOU ARE SAFE

[wisteria-lodge]

Manipulative/Morally Grey Dumbledore? An In-Depth Canon Analysis

So when I look at Harry Potter, my goal is to separate what I think the books are intending to say, from what they actually say, from what the movies say… and what the common fan interpretation is. So today I’m interested in Dumbledore, and specifically in the common headcanon of  Manipulative/Morally Gray Dumbledore. Is that (intentionally or unintentionally) supported by the text?

PART I:  Omniscient Dumbledore

“I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here”

In Book 1, yes Dumbledore honestly does seem to know everything. He 100% arranged for Harry to find the Mirror of Erised, publicly left Hogwarts in order to nudge Quirrell into going after the Stone, and knew what Quirrell was doing the whole time. It is absolutely not a stretch, and kind of heavily implied, that the reason the Stone’s protections feel like a little-end-of-the-year exam designed to put Harry through his paces… is because they are. As the series goes on this interpretation only gets more plausible, when we see the kind of protections people can put up when they don’t want anyone getting through. 

Book 1 Dumbledore knows everything… but what he’s actually going to do about it is anyone’s guess. One of the first things we learn is that some of Dumbledore’s calls can be… questionable. McGonagall questions his choice to leave Harry with the Dursleys, Hermione questions his choice to give Harry the Cloak and let him go after the Stone, Percy and Ron both matter-of-factly call him “mad.” The “nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak” speech is a joke where Dumbledore says he’s going to say a few words, then literally does say a few (weird) words. I know there are theories that those particular words are supposed to be insulting the four houses, or referencing the Hogwarts house stereotypes, or that they’re some kind of warning. But within the text, this is pure Lewis Carroll British Nonsense Verse stuff (and people came up with answers to the impossible Alice in Wonderland “why is a raven like a writing desk” riddle too.) 

This characterization also explains a lot of Dumbledore’s decisions about how to run a school, locked in during Book 1. Presumably Binns, Peeves, Filch, Snape are all there because Dumbledore finds them funny, atmospheric, and/or character building. He's just kind of a weird guy.  He absolutely knew that Lockhart was a fraud in Book 2 (with that whole “Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy?” thing after Lockhart oblivates himself. ) So maybe he is also there to be funny/atmospheric/character building, or to teach Harry a lesson about fame, or because Dumbledore is using the cursed position to bump off people he doesn’t like. Who knows.

(I actually don’t think JKR had locked in “the DADA position is literally cursed by Voldemort” until Book 6. )

Dumbledore absolutely knows that Harry is listening in when Lucius Malfoy comes to take Hagrid to Azkaban, and it’s fun to speculate that maybe he let himself get fired in Book 2 as part of a larger plan to boot Lucius off the Board of Governors. So far, that’s the sort of thing he’d do.  But in Books 3 and 4, we are confronted with a number of important things that Dumbledore just missed. He doesn’t know any of the Marauders were animagi, he doesn’t know what really happened with the Potter’s Secret Keeper, doesn’t know Moody is Crouch, and doesn’t know the Marauders Map even exists. But in Books 5 and 6, his omniscience does seem to come back online. (In a flashback, Voldemort even comments that he is "omniscient as ever” when Dumbledore lists the specific Death Eaters he has in Hogsmeade as backup.) Dumbledore knows exactly what Draco and Voldemort are planning, and his word is taken as objective truth by the entire Order of the Phoenix - who apparently only tolerate Snape because Dumbledore vouches for him:

“Snape,” repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. “We all wondered . . . but he trusted . . . always . . . Snape . . . I can’t believe it. . . .”  “Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens,” said Lupin, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. “We always knew that.”  “But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!” whispered Tonks. “I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn’t. . . .”  “He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape,” muttered Professor McGonagall (...) “Wouldn’t hear a word against him!”

McGonagall questions Dumbledore about the Dursleys, but not about Snape. I see this as part of the larger trend of basically Dumbledore’s deification. In the beginning of the series, he’s treated as a clever, weird dude. By the end, he’s treated like a god. 

PART II: Chessmaster Dumbledore

“I prefer not to keep all my secrets in one basket.”

When Dumbledore solves problems, he likes to go very hands-off. He didn’t directly teach Harry about the Mirror of Erised - he gave him the Cloak, knew he would wander, and moved the Mirror so it would be in his path. He sends Snape to deal with Quirrell and Draco, rather than do it himself. He (or his portrait) tells Snape to confund Mundungus Fletcher and get him to suggest the Seven Potters strategy. He puts Mrs. Figg in place to watch Harry, then ups the protection in Book 5 - all without informing Harry. The situation with Slughorn is kind of a Dumbledore-manipulation master class - even the way he deliberately disappears into the bathroom so Harry will have enough solo time to charm Slughorn. Of course he only wants Slughorn under his roof in the first place to pick his brain about Voldemort… but again, instead of doing that himself, he gets Harry to do it for him. 

Dumbledore has a moment during Harry’s hearing during Book 5 (which he fakes evidence for) where he informs Fudge that Harry is not under the Ministry’s jurisdiction while at Hogwarts. Which has insane implications. It’s never explicitly stated, but as the story goes on, it at least makes sense that Dumbledore is deliberately obscuring how powerful he is, and how much influence he really has, by getting other people to do things for him. But the problem with that is because he is so powerful, it become really easy for a reader to look back after they get more information and say… well if Dumbledore was controlling the situation… why couldn’t he have done XYZ. Here are two easy examples from Harry’s time spent with the Dursleys:

1. Mrs. Figg is watching over Harry from day one, but she can’t tell him she’s a squib and also she has to keep him miserable on purpose:

“Dumbledore’s orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I’m sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they’d thought you enjoyed it. It wasn’t easy, you know…”

It’s pretty intense to think of Dumbledore saying “oh yes, invite this little child over and keep him unhappy on purpose.” But okay. It’s important to keep Harry ignorant of the magical world and vice versa. fine. But once he goes to Hogwarts… that doesn’t apply anymore?  I’m sure when Harry thinks he’s going to be imprisoned permanently in his bedroom during Book 2, it would’ve been comforting to know that Dumbledore was sending around someone to check on him. And when he literally runs away from home in Book 3… having the address of a trusted adult that he could easily get to would have been great for everybody. 

2. When Vernon is about to actually kick Harry out during Book 5, Dumbledore sends a howler which intimidates Petunia into insisting that Harry has to stay. Vernon folds and does exactly what she says. If Dumbledore could intimidate Petunia into doing this, then why couldn’t he intimidate her into, say - giving Harry the second bedroom instead of a cupboard. Or fixing Harry’s glasses. In Book 1, the Dursleys don’t bother Harry during the entire month of August because Hagrid gives Dudley a pig’s tail. In the summer between third and fourth year, the Dursleys back off because Harry is in correspondence with Sirius (a person they fear.) But the Dursleys are afraid of all wizards. Like at this point it doesn’t seem that hard to intimidate them into acting decently to Harry. 

PART III: Dumbledore and the Dursleys 

“Not a pampered little prince”

JKR wanted two contradictory things. She wanted Dumbledore to be a fundamentally good guy: a wise, if eccentric mentor figure. But she also wanted Harry to have a comedically horrible childhood being locked in a cupboard, denied food, given broken glasses and ill fitting/embarrassing clothes, and generally made into a little Cinderella. Then, it’s a bigger contrast when he goes to Hogwarts and expulsion can be used as an easy threat. (Although the only person we ever see expelled is Hagrid, and that was for murder.)

So, there are a couple of tricks she uses to make it okay that Dumbledore left Harry at the Dursleys.’ The first is that once Harry leaves…  nothing that happens there is given emotional weight. When he’s in the Wizarding World, he barely talks about Dursleys, barely thinks about them. They almost never come up in the narration (unless Harry’s worried about being expelled, or they’re sending him comedically awful presents.) They are completely cut from the last three Harry Potter movies, and you do not notice. 

The second trick… is that Dumbledore himself clearly doesn’t think that the Dursleys are that bad. During the King’s Cross vision-quest, he describes 11-year-old Harry as “alive and healthy (...) as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well.”  

Now, this could have been really interesting. Like in a psychological way, I get it. Dumbledore had a rocky home life. Dad in prison, mom spending all her time taking care of his volatile and dangerous sister. Aberforth seems to have reacted to the situation by running completely wild, it’s implied that he never even had formal schooling… and Albus doubled down on being the Golden Child, making the family look good from the outside, and finding every means possible to escape. I would have believed it if Molly or Kingsley had a beat of being horrified by the way the Dursleys are treating Harry… but Dumbledore treats it as like, whatever. Business as usual. 

But that isn’t the framing that the books use. Dumbledore is correct that the Dursleys aren’t that bad, and I think it’s because JKR fundamentally does not take the Dursleys seriously as threats. I also think she has a fairly deeply held belief that suffering creates goodness, so possibly Harry suffering at the hands of the Dursleys… was necessary? To make him good? Dumbledore himself has an arc of ‘long period of suffering = increased goodness.’ So does Severus Snape, Dudley‘s experience with the Dementor kickstarts his character growth, etc. It’s a trope she likes.

It’s only in The Cursed Child that the Dursleys are given any kind of weight when it comes to Harry’s psyche. This is one of the things that makes me say Jack Thorne wrote that play, because it’s just not consistent with how JKR likes to write the Dursleys. It’s consistent with the way fanfiction likes to write the Dursleys. And look, The Cursed Child is fascinatingly bad, I have so many problems with it, but it does seem to be doing like … a dark reinterpretation of Harry Potter? And it’s interested in saying something about cycles of abuse. I can absolutely see how the way the play handles things is flattering to JKR. It retroactively frames the Dursleys’ abuse in a more negative way, and maybe that’s something she wanted after criticism that the Harry Potter books treat physical abuse kind of lightly. (i.e.  Harry at the hands of the Dursleys, and house-elves at the hands of everybody. Even Molly Weasley “wallops” Fred with a broomstick.) 

PART IV: Dumbledore and Harry

“The whole Potter–Dumbledore relationship. It’s been called unhealthy, even sinister”

So whenever Harry feels betrayed by Dumbledore in the books - and he absolutely does, it’s some of JKR’s best writing  - it’s not because he left him with the Dursleys. It’s because Dumbledore kept secrets from him, or lied to him, or didn’t confide in him on a personal level. 

“Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don’t expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I’m doing, trust me even though I don’t trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!” (...) I don’t know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn’t love, the mess he’s left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.”

Eventually though, Harry falls in line with the rest of the Order, and treats Dumbledore as an all-knowing God. And this decision comes so close to being critiqued…  but the series never quite commits. Rufus Scrimgeour comments that, “Well, it is clear to me that [Dumbledore] has done a very good job on you” - implying that Harry is a product of a deliberate manipulation,  and that the way Harry feels about Dumbledore is a direct result of how he's been controlling the situation (and Harry.)  But Harry responds to “[You are] Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” with “Yeah. I am. Glad we cleared that up,” and it’s treated as a badass, mic drop line. 

Ron goes on to say that Harry maybe shouldn’t be trusting Dumbledore and maybe his plan isn’t that great… but then he abandons his friends, regrets what he did, and is only able to come back because Dumbledore knew he would react this way? So that whole thing only makes Dumbledore seem more powerful? Aberforth  tells Harry (correctly) that Dumbledore is expecting too much of him and he’s not interested in making sure that he survives:

“How can you be sure, Potter, that my brother wasn’t more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren’t dispensable (...) Why didn’t he say… ‘Take care of yourself, here’s how to survive’? (...) You’re seventeen, boy!”

But, Aberforth is treated as this Hamish Abernathy type who has given up, and needs Harry to ignite his spark again. There’s a pretty dark line in the script of Deathly Hallows Part 2:

Which at least shows this was a possible  interpretation the creative team had in their heads… but then of course it isn’t actually in the movie. 

So in the end, insane trust in Dumbledore is only ever treated as proper and good. Then in Cursed Child they start using “Dumbledore” as an oath instead of “Merlin” and it’s weird and I don’t like it.

PART V: Dumbledore and his Strays

“I have known, for some time now, that you are the better man.”

So Dumbledore has this weird relationship pattern. He has a handful of people he pulled out of the fire at some point and (as a result) these people are insanely loyal to him.  They do his dirty work, and he completely controls them. This is an interesting pattern, because I think it helps explain why so many fans read Dumbledore’s relationship with Snape (and with Harry) as sinister. 

Let’s start with the first of Dumbledore’s “strays.” Dumbledore saves Hagrid's livelihood and probably life after he is accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets - and then he uses Hagrid to disappear Harry after the Potters' death, gets him to transport the Philosopher’s Stone, and he’s the one who he trusts to be Harry’s first point of contact with the Wizarding World.  Also, Hagrid's situation doesn’t change? Even after he is cleared of opening the Chamber of Secrets, he keeps using that pink flowered umbrella with his broken wand inside, a secret that he and Dumbledore seem to share. He could get a legal wand, he could continue his education. But he doesn’t seem to, and I don’t know why. 

So, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality is a well known fix-it fic that basically asks “What if Harry Potter was a machiavellian little super genius who solves the plot in a year?” I enjoyed it when it was coming out, but the only thing I would call a cheat is the way McGonagall brings Harry to Diagon Alley instead of Hagrid. Because a Harry Potter who has spent a couple of days with McGonagall is going to be much better informed, better equipped and therefore more powerful than a Harry spending the same amount of time with Hagrid. McGonagall is both a lot more knowledgeable and a lot less loyal to Dumbledore. She is loyal, obviously, but she also questions his choices in a way that Hagrid never does. And as a result, Dumbledore does not trust her with the same kind of delicate jobs he trusts to Hagrid.

Mrs. Figg is another one of Dumbledore’s strays. She’s a squib, so we can imagine that she doesn’t really have a lot of other options, and he sets her up to keep tabs on (and be unpleasant to) little Harry. He also has her lie to the entire Wizangamot, which has got to present some risk. Within this framework, Snape is another very clear stray. Dumbledore kept him out of Azkaban, and is the only reason that the Order trusts him. He gets sent on on dangerous double-agent missions… but before that he’s sort of kept on hand, even though he’s clearly miserable at Hogwarts. Firenze is definitely a stray - he can't go back to the centaurs, and who other than Dumbledore is going to hire him? And I do wonder about Trelawney. We don’t know much about her relationship with Dumbledore, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she was a stray as well.

I think there was an attempt to turn Lupin into a stray that didn’t… quite work. He is clearly grateful to Dumbledore for letting him attend Hogwarts and then for hiring him, but Lupin doesn’t really hit that necessary level of trustworthy that the others do. Most of what Dumbledore doesn’t know in Book 3 are things that Lupin could have told him, and didn’t. If had to think of a Watsonsian reason why Remus is given all these solo missions away from the other Order members (that never end up mattering…) it’s because I don’t think Dumbledore trusts him that much. Lupin doubts him too much. 

“Dumbledore believed that?” said Lupin incredulously. “Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape hated James. . . .”

 We also see Dumbledore start the process of making Draco into a stray by promising to protect him and his parents. And with all of that… it’s kind of easy to see how Harry fits the profile. He has a very bleak existence (which Dumbledore knows about.) He is pulled out of it by Dumbledore’s proxies. It’s not surprising that Harry develops a Hagrid-level loyalty, especially after Dumbledore saves him from Barty, from his Ministry hearing, and then from Voldemort. Harry walks to his death because Dumbledore told him too. 

Just to be clear, I don’t think this pattern is deliberate. I think this is a side effect of JKR wanting to write Dumbledore as a nice guy, and specifically as a protector of the little guy. But Dumbledore doing that while also being so powerful creates a weird power dynamic, gives him a weird edit. It’s part of the reason people are happy to go one step farther and say that the Dursleys were mean to Harry… because Dumbledore actively wanted it that way.  I don’t think that’s true. I think Dumbledore loves his strays and if anything, the text supports the idea that he is collecting good people, because protecting them and observing them serves some psychological function for him. Dumbledore does not believe himself to be an intrinsically good person, or trustworthy when it comes to power. So, of course someone like that would be fascinated by how powerless people operate in the world, and by people like Hagrid and Lupin and Harry, who seems so intrinsically good. 

PART VI - Dumbledore and Grindelwald

“I was in love with you.” 

I honestly see “17-year-old Dumbledore was enamored with Grindelwald” as a smokescreen distracting from the actual moral grayness of the guy. He wrote some edgy letters when he was a teenager, at least partly because he thought his neighbor was hot. He thought he could move Ariana, but couldn’t - which led to the chaotic three-way duel that killed her. 

One thing I think J. K. Rowling does understand pretty well, and introduces into her books on purpose, is the concept of re-traumatization. Sirius in Book 5 is very obviously being re-traumatized by being in his childhood home and hearing the portrait of his mother screaming. It’s why he acts out, regresses, and does a number of unadvisable things. I think it’s also deliberate that Petunia’s unpleasant childhood is basically being re-created: her normal son next to her sister’s magical son. It's making her worse, or at the very least preventing her from getting better. We learn that Petunia has this sublimated interest in the magical world, and can even pull out vocab like “Azkaban” and “Dementor” when she needs to.   She wrote Dumbledore asking to go to Hogwarts, and I could see that in a universe where Petunia didn’t have to literally raise Harry, she wouldn’t be as psychotically into normalness, cleanliness, and order as she is when we meet her in the books. After all, JKR doesn’t like to write evil mothers. She will be bend over backwards so her mothers are never really framed as bad.

And I honestly think it’s possible that J. K. Rowling was playing with the concept of re-traumatiziation when she was fleshing out Dumbledore in Book 7. We learn all this backstory, that… honestly isn’t super necessary? All I’m saying is that the three-way duel at the top of the Astronomy Tower lines up really well with the three-way duel that killed Ariana. Harry is Ariana, helpless in the middle. Draco is Aberforth, well intentioned and protective of his family - but kind of useless, and kind of a liability. Severus is Grindelwald, dark and brilliant, and one of the closest relationships Dumbledore has. If this was intentional, it was probably only for reasons of narrative symmetry… but I think it's cool in a Gus Fring of Breaking Bad sort of way, that Dumbledore (either consciously or unconsciously) has been trying to re-create this one horrible moment in his life where he felt entirely out of control. But the second time it plays out… he can give it what he sees as the correct outcome. Grindelwald kills him and everyone else lives. That is how you solve the puzzle.

If you read between the lines, Dumbledore/Grindelwald is a fascinating love story. I like the detail that after Ariana’s death, Dumbledore returns to Hogwarts because it’s a place to hide and because he doesn’t feel like he can be trusted with power. I like that he sits there, refusing promotions, refusing requests to be the new Minister of Magic, refusing to go deal with the growing Grindelwald threat until he absolutely can’t hide anymore, at which point he defeats him (somehow.) I like reading his elaborate plan to break Elder Wand’s power as both a screw-you Grindelwald, the wand’s previous master, but also as a weirdly romantic gesture. In Albus Dumbledore’s mind, there is only Grindelwald. Voldemort can’t even begin to compare. I like the detail that Grindelwald won’t give up Dumbledore, even under torture. And, Dumbledore doesn’t put him in Azkaban. He put him in this other separate prison, which always makes it seem like he’s there under Dumbledore authority specifically.  Maybe Dumbledore thinks that if he had died that day instead of Ariana…he wouldn’t have had to spend the rest of his life fighting and imprisoning the man he loves.

And then of course, Crimes of Grindelwald decided to take away Dumbledore's greatest weakness and say that no, actually he was a really good guy who never did anything wrong ever.  He went all that time without fighting Grindelwald because they made a magical friendship no-fight bracelet. Dumbledore is randomly grabbing Lupin’s iconography (his fashion sense, his lesson plans, his job) in order to feel more soft and gentle than the person the books have created. Now Dumbledore knows about the Room Requirement, even though in the books it’s a plot point that he's too much of a goody-two-shoes to have ever found it himself. He loved Grindelwald (past tense.) And Secrets of Dumbledore is mostly about him being an omniscient mastermind so that a magical deer can tell him that he was a super good and worthy guy, and any doubt that he’s ever felt about himself is just objectively wrong and incorrect. Also now Aberforth has a neglected son, so he’s reframed as a bit of a hypocrite for getting on his brother’s case for not protecting Harry. 

So to summarize, I think Dumbledore began the series as this very eccentric, unpredictable mentor, whose abilities took a hit in Books 3 and 4 in order to make the plot happen. He teetered on the edge of a ‘dark’ framing for like a second… but at the the end of the series he's written as basically infallible and godlike. I’ve heard people say that JKR’s  increased fame was the reason she added the Rita Skeeter plot line, and I don’t think that’s true. But I do think her fame may have affected the way she wrote Dumbledore. Because Dumbledore is JKR’s comment on power, and by Book 5 she had so much power. In her head, I don’t think that Dumbledore is handing off jobs in a manipulative way. She sees him as empowering other less powerful people. That is his job as someone in power (because remember - people who desire power shouldn't wield it.)

Dumbledore’s power makes him emotionally disconnected from the people in his life, it makes him disliked and distrusted by the Ministry, but it doesn’t make him wrong. That’s important. Dumbledore is never wrong. Dumbledore is always good. That’s why we get the Blood Pact that means he was never weak or procrastinating. That’s why we get the qilin saying he was a good person. It’s why we get the tragic backstory (because giving Snape a tragic backstory worked wonders when it came to rehabilitating him.) And that is why Harry names his son Albus Severus in the epilogue, to make us readers absolutely crystal clear that these two are good men. 

[theweeklydiscourse]

The Darkling decided early on how much he would disclose to Alina about his plans for the coup based on a conversation they had on the way to the palace.

I like to look back at this scene from Shadow and Bone that takes place after Alina was seconds away from being killed by a Fjerdan assassin. She denies that she is Grisha, pointing to her plain and scrawny appearance for proof of her certainty and Aleksander responds with a remark about how Alina doesn’t understand what being Grisha even means.

It’s a telling scene because it shows just how surface-level Alina’s view of Grisha is. To her, Grisha are shiny, beautiful and strong and they are prioritized over the common folk soldiers she once belonged with. Of course, Aleksander knows that there is so much more to being Grisha than just beauty, but realizes that there’s so much to unpack with Alina’s statement he doesn’t even know where to start.

This exchange explains one of the reasons why he didn’t disclose his true plans to Alina, much less his ultimate secret. If Alina has such a shallow understanding of Grisha identity, she will also have a shallow understanding of just how much is at stake in this conflict. Alina is no ordinary Grisha, so it hasn’t quite sunk in that she has skin in the game and is more significant than she realizes. Her denial of her Grisha identity (despite obvious evidence proving otherwise) Alina is staunch in her assertion that she is just a normal girl. It is that same denial that tells Aleksander that Alina cannot be viewed as reliable just yet, time needs to be taken to teach her a better understanding of the Grisha first.

This next exchange is the second reason why Aleksander doesn’t tell her. Though Alina herself may not have said that superstition out loud, it still demonstrates how Alina was exposed to those views during her formative years. It raises his suspicion that Alina may hold some remnants of the Serf’s ideas and perhaps compels him to think ahead to assess if this could grow into a potential threat. He ABSOLUTELY cannot tell her the truth anytime soon if there is even the slightest possibility that she believes that he’s soulless and “truly evil”. If Alina snitched on him, his entire operation could be shut down for good and set the Grisha back decades. Not to mention the fact that it could get a lot of Grisha killed.

“You didn’t hurt his feelings.” Dear Reader, this was only the beginning of Alina denying Aleksander’s humanity in order to avoid taking responsibility for her prejudice and to avoid the complex reality of the situation. You can almost hear the incorrect answer buzzer go off in Aleksander’s mind as Alina tells him her answer, I can almost feel his pure disappointment through the page.

Because Aleksander poses an important question that reveals one of Alina’s central conflicts that will continue throughout the trilogy. Alina is still deeply uncomfortable with the idea of Grisha powers after spending her life among people who call them unnatural and strange. To the point that it wasn’t just the fact that the assassin was sliced in two that bothered her, but because of the magic that sliced him. Why on earth would he trust her with his greatest secret when she reacts with such hesitation? He was testing her to gauge how long it would be before Alina could be trusted as an ally to Grisha and received an answer that told him it might take a while. If Alina can’t handle her the idea of her own powers, she cannot be trusted with a secret that could determine the future of Ravka.

I don’t know about you, but I fully believe that Aleksander had every intention of telling Alina the truth, it’s just that prioritizing his personal relationship with her over the safety of his people was a risk he couldn’t take. This gets a bit muddled later on because Alina’s narration seems to care more about her personal feelings of betrayal than the consequences this plan could have on the country. She never takes a moment to look at the bigger picture and consider the consequences of her reckless actions.

I know that I’m just breaking the scene down and explaining what’s happening in it, but it truly is such an informative scene that hints at a potentially fascinating storyline.

[lyledebeast]

Heroes, Villains, and Lies

In most cases, a story’s hero is more honest than its villain, and most people would probably agree that this is true of The Patriot.  However, Benjamin Martin, and William Tavington tell two lies each over the course of the film. Tavington’s lies, like everything else he does, are straightforwardly terrible and meant to shock the audience.  Martin’s, on the other hand, are presented as completely justifiable.  A close examination of these lies, all of which occur in conversations between representatives of the opposing sides, reveal an anti-intellectual bent in the film’s presentation of conflict, argument, and communication

Martin lies to General Cornwallis twice when he goes to negotiate for the release of his men captured by Tavington.  Even though he has requested this meeting, Martin offers Cornwallis an opportunity to air his grievances first.  Cornwallis’s grievance: the militia is killing all his officers.  Martin responds, “As long as your soldiers attack civilians, I will order the shooting of officers at the start of every engagement.” The lie  is the implication that the militia shooting officers is both a response to and concurrent with British soldiers attacking civilians; we’ll return to why this is a lie later.

Cornwallis immediately moves on to the next order of business: Martin's request that his men be released.  When Cornwallis refuses, Martin claims to have nineteen British officers in his custody who will be shot if the militiamen hang.  This is revealed to be a lie at the end of this scene when the camera pans back from the freed militiamen riding out of the fort to the men in the field Cornwallis had looked at through his spyglass who are surrounding scarecrows dressed in British uniforms. Martin’s lies are effective because their primary audience believes them.  He offers Cornwallis “proof” of the second one by encouraging him to see for himself, trusting that he will not look long enough to realize that these men are all standing at attention more perfectly than any human soldiers ever have. Cornwallis also reposes a great deal of trust in Martin considering that he knows nothing about him and that Martin has provided no specific information about either of the groups of British soldiers he describes.

Tavington’s lies are received very differently. The first one is an interpretation of a rule of war Martin cites in defense of his son Gabriel: “A dispatch rider carrying a marked case cannot be held as a spy.” In Martin’s interpretation, most likely the correct one, to prevent a dispatch rider with a marked case from reaching his destination is forbidden. Tavington interprets it differently, or at least pretends to. “Well, we’re not going to hold him. We’re going to hang him!” His specious reasoning is that because he is not “hold[ing]” Gabriel, he is in compliance with the rule even though what he is doing instead is much worse.

He offers a similar equivocation after his speech in the Patriot church he ends up burning with its congregation trapped inside. Initially, Tavington makes the offer that “anyone who comes forward [with information about Benjamin Martin’s whereabouts] may be forgiven their treason.” But after one man provides him with information, Tavington thanks him and orders the doors to be shut. When the man reminds him of what he’d said a moment before, Tavington replies, “And indeed you may [be forgiven], but that’s between you and God.” Obviously, “forgiven” has two different meanings here.  The man in the church correctly understands Tavington to mean worldly forgiveness, in this case, from the crown.  The forgiveness is for treason, after all. Once Tavington and his horse are outside the church, though, he changes his meaning to divine forgiveness, which his victims must ask for themselves in their final moments.

While Martin’s lies offer up facts without evidence, Tavington’s lies distort meaning.  Both render honest communication impossible, but Tavington’s are presented as being much worse.  When a story features a very violent hero, as The Patriot does, it has to convince the audience that the hero is the one to root for by some means other than making the villain violent.  It is almost a genre convention in American action movies to give the villain a certain loquacity, a pleasure in putting together elegant sentences and playing with meaning, often with cruel effect. Tavington’s equivocations are perfect examples of this, and Jason Isaacs delivers them with evident relish.  It is delightfully appropriate that Tavington favors equivocation, a logical fallacy stereotypically associated with lawyers, when the actor who plays him has a law degree. While “We’re not going to hold him; we’re going to hang him” is in Robert Rodat’s pre-filming screenplay, Tavington’s manipulation of “forgiveness,” and the entire exchange in which it appears, was added during filming.  Perhaps Isaacs argued for a second one because the first was so fun and so revealing about his character, or even wrote it himself.

While Tavington’s lies are accompanied by an almost ecstatically animated bitch-face, Mel Gibson delivers Martin’s lies like he is playing poker, with the same stony expression he has when telling the truth.  Unlike Tavington’s lies, Martin’s are meant to be believed, at least temporarily, by both their primary and secondary audiences. As unlikely as it is that Martin could capture so many officers, including a colonel, without Cornwallis’s knowledge, it is no more ridiculous than things we have seen him do onscreen by that point. And since this scene also comes after one where Martin tells his men what to do with British soldiers not killed outright by their attacks, the audience is primed to see some in the flesh.  

Even in the absence of actual wounded or surrendering soldiers, we are meant to believe Martin enforced his his rule about giving quarter.  After all, when Major Villeneuve makes his “joke” about killing wounded redcoats when Martin is not looking, Martin laughs nervously. Perhaps, then, we are also meant to believe the British soldiers attacking civilians exist even though we never seen any do so but the ones commanded by Tavington. I interpret this claim as a lie because not only is there no evidence of continuing attacks, when Tavington’s attacks on civilians resume with Cornwallis’s implicit permission, Martin is so shocked and rattled that he sends the militia home rather than attempting to mount any kind of strategic defense.  If these attacks had been ongoing, surely he would have a better contingency plan than that.

 I have concluded, though, that expecting The Patriot’s hero to provide evidence in support of his claims positions me well outside its intended audience.  What makes Martin the hero, after all, is not that he’s good with words but that he avenges his sons’ murders and  . . saves America from the British, apparently.  I suppose that’s one reason why I’ve always felt such an affinity for Tavington.  Like Jason Isaacs, I enjoy his cunty equivocations. He does not have to have these arguments with Martin and the man in the church; he holds all the power in both situations.  He does it because there is nothing more devilishly fun than a good bad argument.   

The best way to respond to a bad argument, though, is with a good one.  A good argument requires honest communication between participants, and sometimes that means finding someone more reasonable to engage with.  Martin has his pick of literally any other British officer we do meet to fill that role, but he gives up after one conversation with Tavington. After that, his only goal with respect to any British officer is domination, whether by killing or, in Cornwallis’s case, humiliating him. And yet we are meant to find this response reasonable and the man who chooses it implicitly trustworthy. How terrifying, and terrifyingly common even in our modern world, to use the words or actions of a few to justify rejecting honest communication with an entire group.

[myapothecarydiary]

Find me reading Yona of the Dawn here!

I'll be dropping more thoughts on Yona and some other stories at @tinysnailtales to keep this blog focused on The Apothecary Diaries

[floweringgodhead]

For the Wilkie Collins fans among us.

I'm slow when I'm writing by hand so maybe this is just a personal thing, but does anyone else get a little irritated when they read the Marian Halcombe sections of The Woman in White?

Marian goes through a long and complicated hell -- escapes, obfuscations, attempted murders, grief, trauma, a really tense dinner, breaking Laura out of an asylum, etc., etc. -- primarily over the course of a single day. And instead of taking a nap or panicking or muddling everything that's happened, she picks up her diary and is able to set down in clear, beautiful prose her very detailed account of events(!). It gets worse: as outlined above, her day was extremely busy, and yet somehow she still finds the time to go upstairs and dash off a three-hundred-page report of it -- only occasionally breaking off from her narrative to make comments like, "I think I hear someone," "it's late, the candle dims, but I must keep writing," "my hand begins to tire a little [I'm killing myself]."

I bet Wilkie was laughing his ass off writing this