#edith clever

[shihlun]

Peter Handke

- The Left-Handed Woman

1977

[sesiondemadrugada]

Die Marquise von O… (Éric Rohmer, 1976).

[thesweatercolourgreen]

[vidioten]

Die Marquise von O... (1976), Éric Rohmer.

[soreheadinamblemood]

[crissantconniseeur]

Heinrich von Kleist La Marquis d’O

[thesquidwizard]

why were there ghosts in crimson peak

big fan of ghosts, love a good ghost

did not see any reason why the movie wouldnt work perfectly fine without ghosts. i think the ghosts drew away from and weakened the performance

[shanastoryteller]

Merry bday! A continuation of Enola Holmes marrying the viscount of Basilweather would be really cool 😀

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

She wrinkles her nose when Tewksbury passes over her cup of tea with two sugars, unstirred, and she knows.

She puts down the cup too quickly, blood pounding in her ears, and Tewksbury frowns, reaching for her hand. "Enola?"

"Got to go," she says, pushing herself to standing, almost just leaves him sitting there, hand outstretched, but he's her husband and she loves him, so she darts over to smack a kiss on his lips before she's running for the door.

"Enola!" he calls out again, but now he sounds less worried and more exasperated, which is better, which is good. There's nothing for him to worry about.

She wants her mother, who's banned from London and is causing political unrest in Southern France currently, or Edith, who's doing something clever and illegal in Scotland. She'd take Victoria, but Mycroft will be there, and he's the last person she wants to see right now. Sherlock, while beloved, is useless, but his boy is a doctor.

She drops in at 221B Baker Street, picking the lock like always, and is relieved that Sherlock is still asleep and decides not to have any opinions on the various bones scattered about the kitchen table. She assumes there's a reasonable explanation for them.

"Oh, Enola!" John grins and shoves some femurs to the side to make space at the table. "Here, join me, would you like some oatmeal? Are you looking for your brother? I can wake him-"

"I'm pregnant," she blurts out, then bites her bottom lip.

John blinks once, then twice, then says with a gentleness that had made her like him in the first place - because Sherlock wanted to be gentle, but was quite bad at it, so someone had to teach him - "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wanted seems like not the correct word, although of course it is, because she and Tewksbury had been, not trying, but not-not trying, which probably amounted to the same thing, considering how often they - well.

"I can fix it," he says, voice low and serious, "if it's something that needs to be fixed."

Enola lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "No. No, it doesn't need to be fixed."

She loves that he offered. She loves John, more her brother than Mycroft will ever be, sometimes even more her brother than Sherlock is. If nothing else, her brothers had picked their partners well. Victoria and John are a delight.

John is the functional one between them, explosions and skeletons notwithstanding. John is the one that coaxed her brother into a proper relationship and John is the one that knew they were like parents to all the Irregulars and John isn't normal but he grew up normal.

"Are you worried something's wrong?" he asks. "I can look you over."

"No," she says, although, "I mean, yes, that'd be nice because Tewksbury will go spare, but no, I'm not worried anything's wrong."

He leans back in his chair, looking her over, and after almost ten years of dealing with her and Sherlock and even occasionally Mycroft he can read them almost as well as they can read everyone else.

"It's alright to be scared," he says finally. "Lots of women are when they find out, even when it's wanted, even when the baby's healthy."

"I'm not scared," she says, but for the first time her words feel like a lie. "I shouldn't be scared. What do I have to be scared of?"

She wishes her mother was here.

Will her children miss her like this too?

Sometimes she misses her mother even when she's right in front of her, and if nothing else, she's her mother's daughter.

John gets to his feet, stand in front of her, and opens his arms. She looks away even as she steps forward, like if she doesn't look at him when she does it then it doesn't count as weakness.

His arms close around her. He smells like chai and antiseptic and it's only years of association that make the combination comforting. "I can't wait to be an uncle."

He'll be an uncle. Sherlock will be an uncle. Even Mycroft, and Victoria will be delighted to be an aunt, and to raise her children with Enola's. Of course there's her mother-in-law, and Tewksbury's uncle, who have been angling for her to have a child from the day they married.

There's Tewksbury, who loves her, who isn't going to die on her or leave her if either of them have anything to say about it, who isn't going to leave her to raise their children the way her mother raised her.

Alone.

She's been saying she wasn't going to do this alone from the beginning, but standing here in Sherlock's kitchen, with John holding her steady, she really believes it.

[maluuustrawberry]

Red like fire...{Part 1}

(Frollo X Edith X Phoebus)

Warnings: Some prejudiced speech, use of the word "Gypsies" (But only in Frollo's speeches since we know what kind of character he is.) Age gap, Frollo being Frollo.

Synopsis: Frollo needed a new captain to help him with the problems with the romani, but he didn't imagine that the captain would be a woman, causing many disagreements between the two of them since the arrival of the captain.

A/N: I swear I thought of this story when I was taking a shower, Lol. I decided to post this while part two of "Undesirable encounter" yet being made. And I was also surprised that there wasn't any Phoebus fic, so I thought I'd do one. This time I won't use "Y/n" I thought it would be better to create a character, but you can imagine yourself in her place and I hope you like her. Enjoy!!

Love and lust. The feelings that show the true nature of man, even man who calls himself "holy" and "righteous". These feelings drive us to commit so many crazy things just for attention, a look or even a touch. Especially when that feeling comes from someone who has repressed it for so long, hiding their true desires and monstrosities for fear of experiencing sin.

Frollo, the judge, needed help dealing with the Romanis who were entering Paris. He suspected that there was some kind of "nest" in which they were hiding and that they were spreading out from this hiding place. To help him with this task, the judge decided to call in a captain of the royal guard who was in a nearby town and who was free of missions at the moment. Luckily, he found someone, but he had no idea that the captain would actually be a woman...

Her name was Edith Chapelle, and she was the first woman to become captain. When she received the letter from the Judge of Paris, she immediately packed her things and rode her gray horse, Hermes, into town. Of course, it wasn't very common in the 15th century for a woman to hold such an important position; she was forced to deal with a lot of nasty comments and nicknames and, of course, being called a 'witch', but she managed to cope very well.

She began her career as a captain when her father, a former captain, was called up for a war, but was ill and had no male son to replace him, so Edith took his place. The impression was horrible at first, but, being clever, she gradually gained the respect of the men and put them in their place.

Unfortunately, only her surname remained on the list, which often confused the men into thinking that the captain was a man because she bore her father's surname. And as soon as she arrived, it was always a break in expectations for everyone, along with some people's thoughts about her. For Edith, it was no different with that judge.

After riding for a long time until she arrived in Paris, she began to pass through the city, a little lost and, of course, receiving looks of strangeness and disgust. Even with that, she could tolerate it. “Is it possible that, in such a big city, no one has ever seen a woman wearing pants and armor?” A small laugh burst from her lips at the thought.

She was looking for the Palace of Justice and tried to look at the map, but the city had changed a lot and the map would be of no use at the moment.

"Come on, it shouldn't be so hard to find," she thought to herself as she led the horse through the city streets and along La Cité, near Notre-Dame. The woman gazed in awe at the great cathedral, it was still as beautiful as the last time she had seen it, and a small smile appeared on her face as she remembered the good times she had had in this city, especially at Notre-Dame. She let her thoughts take her away and suddenly her horse grumbled and tapped its legs impatiently on the ground:

“Calm down, Hermes.” The redhead tried to calm her animal by patting the side of its neck. “I guarantee that when we arrive, you'll have your carrots. We just need some information...”

The woman commented as she looked around and got off her horse, looking for someone to ask for information. It was a bit difficult with the Parisians passing by and ignoring the visitor, if not, they just gave uncomfortable looks or the mothers whispered in an unobtrusive way to the little girls, who stared curiously at the woman. “Don't look, child, that's disgraceful. Such a poorly disciplined woman.”

The captain noticed a colorful cart near the cathedral, which attracted the attention of some children, who were enchanted by the music that a man in the cart sang while using his puppets to tell a story. Perhaps he was someone who empathized with children and could help her.

She walked over to the cart while carrying her horse on a lead, and the man soon stopped the story. The children also looked at the girl and the approaching horse:

“Good morning.” She greeted everyone with a small smile. “I hope I'm not in the way.”

“Not at all, miss.” The man spoke, being friendly and relaxed. The woman could tell he was a Romani from his different skin color and the ring hanging from his ear. “My stories are for all audiences.”

“Oh no, no, I just came to ask for information. I'm new in city.” She explained, not noticing the children stroking her horse, and what luck that Hermes was a very peaceful animal and liked children. “Can you tell me where the Palace of Justice is?”

“It's not far from here. Unfortunately, I can't take you there, but just go straight up that street and turn right, you'll get there easily, there's no mistake.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” The girl thanked him, noticing a hat with some coins on the counter of the Roma's cart, and took some out of her pocket and put them there. “I hope this helps.”

“Thank you, miss, won't you stay for a story?”

“I appreciate that, but I have to get to the palace, I should have been there hours ago.” She joked. “Maybe another time?”

“I understand, dear, see you later.”

She said goodbye to the Romani and pulled Hermes' leash, taking him away from the children and following the path to the palace. The captain decided to walk through the streets this time, to stretch her legs a bit and to avoid attracting so much attention on her horse.

Following the Roma's instructions, she arrived at the place and was in front of the palace. A shiver ran through her body as nervousness and anxiety took over. The place was huge, and what caught the woman's attention most were the tall towers of the palace; they weren't as tall as those of the cathedral, but they seemed to give a great view of the city. The redhead took a deep breath and walked up to the palace. There were two guards at the entrance, next to the large doors:

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” She spoke and the men looked her up and down with contempt and doubt. She was a little taller than the men and that was enough to bruise their egos a little, after all, the woman was 1.74 tall. “I came at the behest of Judge Claude Frollo.”

The guards looked at each other, holding back their laughter, and one of them asked mockingly:

“And what would the judge want with a woman?” When the guard said this, this time the redhead took on a serious tone with a little anger in her voice, and then spoke.

“Summon her as the new captain of the guard, perhaps?”

She took the judge's letter out of her bag and unfolded it, showing it to the guards. They read it and were stunned, they had to read it more than once to make sure they understood it correctly and that it wasn't a forgery, but they knew very well that it was the judge's handwriting and his own seal on the letter. One of the guards cleared his throat and spoke:

“H-He's in the main hall, ma'am. Do we have permission to put your horse in the stable?”

“I'd be grateful if you would.” The small smile returned to her face and she handed Hermes' lead to one of the men.

The guard opened the palace gate and the captain entered. The door was closed behind her and she looked around, analyzing the place. The main hall was even larger inside, and soon she heard voices in the next room, the judgment chamber, and followed the voice. It was two men, but one of them had the most authoritative, deep voice that would give anyone goosebumps.

When she arrived at the judgment hall, she saw a tall, old man in the robes of a judge talking to the guard, but the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the captain. Nervousness hit her hard when she saw all the attention on her and the judge's deep judgmental gaze, seeming to analyze every detail of her soul, but she maintained her posture and spoke:

“Good morning, gentlemen, excuse me. Mr. Judge Claude Frollo?” She asked and the man frowned slightly.

“Yes...” He answered a little uncertainly and put his hands together. “And you are...?”

“Captain Edith Chapelle, sir.” She quickly introduced herself, bowing slightly and the judge's eyes widened slightly, not believing he had hired a woman. “Reporting for duty as ordered.”

“... Is this a joke?” It was the only thing that came out of the judge's mouth after so much shock and disappointment. “I didn't hire a woman to take care of the job.”

“Well, it's in the letter you sent me, Your Honor.” She handed him the letter and the older man took it and looked at it as she spoke. “I know that my military record only contains my surname, but...”

“Go away.” He spoke and she frowned, not believing it.

“Sorry?...”

“There's been a mistake.” He handed her the letter, his expression hard, serious and with hatred in his eyes. “I didn't hire a woman for the job and you should have this information on your military record.”

“Sir, I've come all this way...” She tried to explain herself, but he quickly interrupted her.

“If you knew how to get here, then you know very well how to get home.” The judge spoke with contempt and turned away as he spoke. “A woman, being a captain? You don't seem to know your real role in society and you're playing at being a soldier.”

“I know my role very well, Your Honor.” She spoke as she walked up to him, who stopped and stared at her with contempt, that look would make anyone shut up, but she insisted. Stubborn as she was.

“I can punish you if you continue with this stubbornness, Miss Chapelle.” He spoke, but she continued.

“Punish me for what? For being a woman?”

“Look how you talk to the Judge of Paris, woman...” The guard butted in and the redhead immediately cut him off with an authoritative and serious tone.

“I didn't ask you to talk! Put yourself in your place before meddling in a matter that hasn't even been mentioned!”

That tone made the guard quickly shut up and walk away from the two of them with his fists clenched, which shocked Frollo, he had never seen a woman with so much control and even more so insistent. The guard left them alone and she continued, it was amazing that she wasn't afraid of the punishment that would follow, as if she had a great passion for her work:

“I'm doing my duty, Your Honor. And my role is to protect the cities and justice, as I was trained to do.”

“Put yourself in your position as a woman...” The older man approached, and his expression, along with his gaze, was capable of intimidating anyone, including the captain. But she stood her ground and didn't back down. “You should be at home looking after your husband and children. In fact, I doubt that you have a husband, and if you did, he would certainly be ashamed.”

These words would surely make anyone give up, it wouldn't be worth it, but Edith continued, despite feeling upset:

“Even though you don't know my gender, you've seen my work and my achievements as a captain in my military record, and I think that's why you summoned me, isn't it? So what difference will it make, knowing that I'm now a woman?”

Claude Frollo remained silent, absorbing everything the woman said and obviously he had no more arguments for it. To his disappointment, she was right, and anyway if he were to call another captain it would take longer than necessary and he needed to do his duty as a judge. From start to finish, she showed a mature, responsible and stubborn demeanor, and she seemed to have a way with words and a certain authority:

“You've shown yourself to have an extremely irritating but endearing stubbornness and you have good posture. I hope I'm not mistaken about that, Captain.” Frollo said the word "captain" with a certain disdain, but Edith ignored it and looked hopefully at him, her hands trembling with anxiety. “I'll give you a chance, I won't tolerate any mistakes and if you commit any disobedience... don't want to imagine what comes next...” A small smile came to the judge's face and it caused the captain to shiver, it was a wicked smile that caused discomfort.

The short-haired redhead nodded and he turned away from her, starting to climb the steps to the upper room of the palace, she soon realized that she should follow him and so she did. Frollo gave Edith this chance, he thought it was ridiculous for a woman to think she could do the captain's job better than any man, he was sure she wouldn't last two weeks, but he couldn't deny that he was curious to see how far she would go, it would be satisfying for a man like him to see her so weakened and show that he was right all this time.

They reached the top floor and walked out onto the open balcony of the palace, and soon he began:

“I hope you know what you're doing, Captain. I must say that you've come to Paris at a dangerous time, and you'll need a firm hand to deal with so many pagans. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Dealing with pagans? What do you mean?” She asked and he gave a small smile.

“Gypsies, Captain. Gypsies live outside the normal order and are always breaking the law, stealing, taking children from their mothers and defiling our Christian city with their pagan ways. And they have to be stopped.” Frollo explained as he looked out over the city.

“Wait a minute, are you telling me I've been summoned from the war to arrest Romanis?” She asked incredulously, thinking he was joking, but at the judge's slight glance, she recovered. “I mean... it's just that I've never received a mission like this before...”

“Everything has a first time, Captain, and I'm playing my part as a judge in cleansing the city of evil.” Edith found the way he spoke strange, did this man think he was a God or something? Always feeling superior to everyone else? “Come with me...”

She soon obeyed him, walking with him through the palace of justice and heading for what seemed to be his office. It was a very well organized room, with several books on the shelf, a desk full of papers and a map of the city hanging on the wall of the room. The judge continued as he closed the door behind the captain:

“For twenty years I've been... looking after the gypsies.” He spoke as he walked to his desk. “One by one, yet with my success they seem to have sprouted. I believe they have some refuge, a 'nest', so to speak.”

Frollo sat down at his table, but the woman remained standing as she listened to the explanation, the judge gave a small smile as he noticed that she was just waiting for his order to sit down, it seems that she had been educated very well as a captain and recognized who her leader was, she had passed his little "test":

“Sit down, Captain.” At his command, with a small smile on his face, the redhead obeyed and sat down. Frollo continued: “Moving on, I need you to find this gypsy hideout and capture any you find wandering around the city.”

“If I may, sir. What should we do if we find the hideout?”

Frollo continued with that wicked smile, leaned his elbows on the table and put his hands together. Edith watched his movements and soon realized what he meant:

“Sir, I wasn't trained to kill innocent people.”

“But you were trained to take orders...” That smile wouldn't leave Frollo's face, with this information he knew she would give up, or at least he thought so. “And 'innocents'? Do you think that pagan race is innocent?”

“Just because one Romani has committed crimes, doesn't mean that everyone should be punished for it.”

“Don't you see that it's in their blood to be sinners, my dear?” He asked calmly.

“Yes, just as it's in the blood of every human being. If you do this, you'll be breaking a law, you'll be causing genocide, and from what I read in the law you should only kill if someone commits a crime and you have proof of the crime committed. You don't want to lose your job, do you?”

This woman was dangerously clever and had a sharp tongue. The judge's expression became serious again and his right hand clenched tightly into a fist, but in a discreet way, as if he were controlling his desire to break that sharp woman's neck, he certainly underestimated her quick thinking and tough mind. Then he had a different idea of manipulating her:

“You're a clever woman, Captain, I have to confess.” He commented as he analyzed the papers in an attempt to disguise himself. “And you've given me an idea, I think it's best just to arrest all the gypsies and when it comes time for the trial I'll draw the conclusions as to whether they deserve the death penalty or not. Since you care so much about these gypsy scum.”

“I care about justice, and about our work.”

“How thoughtful of you.” He spoke sarcastically.

“And what will happen to those who don't get the death penalty?“

“They'll be free, simple.”

That was very strange. Edith was about to retort, but kept quiet. She had already said too much, and at least he hadn't forced her to bathe in the blood of innocents. Then she returned to the subject of the mission:

“Do you have any suspicions about where the safe house is? If you don't mind, I'll need a new map of the city. Mine is old and Paris has changed a lot since then.”

“So far we've had no leads, Captain. And as for the map, I'll arrange it. You have full control of my men and you'll have to put them in line. Any more questions about the service?”

“Is there anything important you want to tell me?” As she asked this, he shifted in his chair and leaned his body slightly on the table, clasping his hands together.

“I'm only going to tell you one thing; remember why I summoned you... you must not show any compassion to those pagans. And I'm going to demand at least some information about the mission when the day is over.”

“I'll keep you informed as soon as possible about the hideout, sir.”

“Very well, you're cleared. Your service begins tomorrow and I expect good results.”

“Yes, sir.”

Edith nodded and got up from her chair, the judge's gaze on her at all times as she made her way to the office exit. And now he was analyzing the woman, noticing her height and physique. She definitely didn't have a strong body suited to fighting. Her arms, even hidden by armor, looked as thin and delicate as any woman's, and her shoulders weren't that broad. Her legs, which were long and with thick thighs, looked very nice underneath the armor, and, of course, he couldn't help but notice those wide hips.

The judge quickly pushed these thoughts aside and sighed as soon as she left; he had never met a woman like her before and was intrigued, but at the same time felt contempt for her. He was going to make this woman's life as captain a living hell...

*****

Edith left the palace of justice, and as soon as she left, she breathed a sigh of relief after so much tension with that difficult judge. She went downstairs and went to the stables to get her horse to leave. She needed to find a place to stay in the city and it was a good thing she had money for accommodation and knew a place, she just needed to make sure it still existed.

It was dusk, and riding to the place, Edith observed how the town looked. Soon her thoughts were dominated by Frollo, that judge was no ordinary man, he always seemed to be driven by hatred and punishment, he wouldn't be easy to work with, that much she knew. She had nothing against Romanis, and she wasn't one to judge someone by their appearance. The redhead had a bad feeling about this, worrying about the Romani people and, of course, worrying about the city being in the hands of such a cruel judge.

Riding through the city, she passed some familiar streets until she came to St. Michael's Bridge, hearing the sound of the river passing under the bridge. As she passed the place, she was surprised that the small apartment was still there after so many years. She still had images of the House of Falourdel in her mind from when her father used to pay for lodgings there when they would visit Paris. Edith got off her horse and left him waiting in front of the apartment:

“I won't be long, Hermes, I promise.”

She spoke before entering, the bell ringing as soon as the door was opened. The same lady who had attended to her father when she was a child was there at the counter. Edith was genuinely surprised to see that this old woman was still alive. "Maybe she was so grouchy that not even hell or heaven wanted her there…" Edith bit her tongue to keep from laughing at the thought:

“Which room?” The old woman asked, exactly, without a 'good afternoon' or even a 'what do you want?' Edith frowned, one thing she hated was rudeness, but she let it pass.

*****

Managing to book a room upstairs and a stable for Hermes to stay in, the woman entered the Santa Carta room, which was not in the best condition. The walls were almost falling apart, the bed was rusty, the window was broken and there was a faint smell of mildew coming from the walls. It had been a long time since the place had been renovated.

Tired from her trip, the woman locked the door, left her things in the corner of the bed and took off her armor, feeling relieved and more relaxed after taking off the tight, uncomfortable metal. She began to clean her body with the damp cloth and finally put on her nightgown.

She wanted to walk around the city before nightfall to get to know Paris better, but she was too tired having come all this way and had a long job the next day, so that judge managed to sap her energy. She lay down on the bed and sighed, snuggling down to sleep and get ready for her first day at work tomorrow.

Continue?...

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Sapphic Payneland In Hell (Yes, I Said What I Said)

Listen, I became inspired by all the genderbent payneland art (thanks to @verianal, @gardenveela, and @hannaloony). And I needed to write.

Also, I don't know what it says about me that when I was inspired to write historical Payneland I went for cities and painting and light and tenderness, while when I went to write historical sapphic Payneland I went for storm metaphors and hell and body horror and tenderness, but here we are. And I hope y'all enjoy!

Broken cricket bat in hand, Charlie grabs onto the closest bit of Edith she can- her ankle and the hem of her nightgown- and gets sucked to Hell with her.

Once they land on the concrete, Charlie offers up her hand to Edith. “C’mon, Eddie,” she says with a grin, “We’re gonna make it out of here or die trying.”

Edith stares at the offered hand for a long second. "I suppose we must."

The thing about Edith Payne is that she is a storm. That she cannot be stopped. She pulled Charlie out of that lake despite everyone telling her to stop, that it wasn't a girl's job to be reckless.

And that doesn't stop in Hell.

Edith is the clever one, stealing a notebook off of one of the denizens of Avarice. She’s the one that maps out this place, the one who runs quick and fast.

The thing is that Charlie could leave. She wasn’t a sacrifice. The exit would just swing open for her.

But that means jackshit to Charlie.

Every time the spider catches Edith, Charlies scoops up Edith’s notebook and her jacket and follows her back to the Dollhouse, cricket bat spinning in hand.

(Charlotte Rowland and Edith Payne, students of St. Hilarion's, end up in Hell together. That doesn't change much.)

@idliketobeatree @tumblerislovetumblerislife @tragedy-machine @anything-thats-rock-and-roll

@nix-nihili @hartigays @wordsinhaled

[suzannahnatters]

I just remembered another of my favourite JRR Tolkien wifeguy facts which is that in Gilbert & Sullivan's comic operetta Trial By Jury there's a character who boasts about getting ahead in the legal profession by marrying "a rich attorney's elderly, ugly daughter"

and Tolkien, who was several years younger than his beloved Edith, obviously could not be putting up with that so in his ABSOLUTELY DARLING little fantasy adventure story Roverandom, about a yappy little dog who is turned into a magical toy by a passing wizard, the wizard gets married to "a rich mer-king's elderly, LOVELY daughter" and she is of course tremendously magical, clever, and awesome

and I just...like...nine men out of ten would be like "ehehe elderly ugly daughter of course" but Tolkien is like, this does not make sense to me, why would the powerful older woman be ugly, that sounds Very Attractive actually

[shihlun]

Peter Handke

- The Left-Handed Woman

1977

[cliozaur]

Many people have already written about Les Misérables at Théâtre du Châtelet, so I’ll just add a few points of my own.

The best part was that this production was different from the West End version: the costumes, sets, and acting choices felt very refreshing.

The actors’ voices were fantastic. Some leaned a bit too operatic, but it worked well in the context. And finally! Finally, I’ve heard a good Cosette! Maybe I’ve just been unlucky in the past, but every Cosette I’d heard before was just squeaking. Here, Julitte Artigala’s singing was genuinely enjoyable. Claire Perot’s Fantine was good and extremely expressive – looking at her gestures I had a picture of Edith Piaf in my head.

The Thénardiers were surprisingly charismatic. Madame Thénardier came across as almost a tragic figure—her frustration with and anger at her husband were much more palpable than in the English version. I could truly feel her pain. Kids in the theatre (there were so many of them, despite some new quite explicit scenes) were laughing at most of Mme Thenardier’s jokes. Meanwhile, Monsieur Thénardier reminded me of an eccentric Jack Sparrow. It was also clever how they acknowledged having a female conductor: during the wedding feast, when Thénardier called for the “maestro,” she corrected him with “maestra.” Then the orchestra was revealed behind the main stage—it was a very cool moment.

At the factory, they did not show the working process; instead, the conflict took place during a lunch break, with everyone eating or resting—an interesting production choice.

Valjean was not dying alone—even before Cosette and Marius arrived—he was at the convent, being cared for by nuns. It’s much better and less heartbreaking than dying of grief and starvation in an empty dwelling. (I think I read a fanfiction based on this twist.)

There were also some nice touches in the French lyrics. For example, Cosette mentioned the doll from the shop window (Catherina) she dreamed about. Actually, “Castle on a Cloud” is called “La poupée dans la vitrine” (“The doll in the shop window”). For Fantine, it was wolves that came at night instead of tigers (we know that both animals are associated with Javert). Speaking of Javert, in his soliloquy, he mentioned regretting not dying like a soldier, which I found to be a nice touch.

My love goes to the ensemble, as always! You could feel how much they enjoyed performing.

There were so many small gestures—touches, hugs, and all kinds of body contact—that are usually absent from the West End production. People have already pointed out that Javert appears in the “Heaven” finale, shaking Valjean’s hand. It’s a lovely touch, though completely illogical. And during the final bow, Javert kissed Cosette’s hand.

However, there were a few elements that felt dangerous. They used a lot of open fire, and not always for justified reasons. Recently, I’ve heard Ian McKellen talking about how nineteenth century theatres often burned down, and this abundance of fire made me nervous. Another concern was Javert being perched on an extremely high platform during his soliloquy. I hope there was some kind of safety line in place.

What irritated me: Javert carrying a rifle during “The Confrontation”(and he never had a cudgel). Why give him a rifle if he doesn’t use it? (Insert a joke here about Les Misérables being much shorter if Javert had just used the rifle in the hospital scene.) And then… the bicycle. It wasn’t funny, and it wasn’t even historically accurate to the time period in that form!

The audience was incredibly enthusiastic, cheering so much that the cast came back for four curtain calls! And they seemed happy to oblige.

[juniperhillpatient]

I have to go to work but first I have to say something to else about that movie. The reason Lucille’s tragedy works SO well in the end is that she was offered an escape & she doesn’t take it & her reasons make so much sense but it’s still so sad.

The movie kinda had a moment for me when Lucille says “you promised you’d never fall in love with someone else” & Thomas responds “& yet it happened anyway” where I thought - oh. How disappointing. I still would’ve enjoyed the movie if it was left at that but it would’ve been so much shallower & Thomas at that point would’ve lost any & all remaining sympathy from me.

To murder & plot & manipulate against innocent people - against a precocious & clever & likable protagonist like Edith Cushing who has lost SO much already & only ever wanted to be Seen - to commit heinous murders against people who genuinely Did Not deserve it - that all becomes sympathetic & tragic if not excusable when you realize it’s for love. “The only love Thomas & I ever knew was from each other in these rotting walls, hiding.”

Thomas & Lucille only ever knew violent rotting desperate love - of course they did horrific things to protect each other, to stay together. It’s awful but it’s sympathetic & tragic. It’s all they ever knew.

If Thomas simply turned on Lucille after ALL that after murdering their OWN CHILD & other women that we can presume deserved it no more than Edith - the ONLY thing that redeems him is that it’s all over love for Lucille & now he’s betraying her? And for what? He lied to Edith’s face time & again & gaslit her about being poisoned. He held her as she sobbed over her father’s corpse when he was part of his death! For me that was the end of any possible sympathy I might’ve had for Thomas which puts a significant damper on the emotional complexity of a movie about toxic love & entanglements if one of the central characters has lost ALL my investment.

But then….. then Thomas offers Lucille an out & you see that he’s only trying to escape the rotting walls of Crimson Peak & his trauma & he wants to offer it to her too & it’s too late & we all know it - I think even Thomas knows it - but he’d rather die trying than give up.

“We could all be together.”

“All?”

Thomas must know that it’s too late for that if it ever was an option (I don’t think so) & Lucille’s horrified reaction says it all. That was never a real option but he has to try.

Edith would never consider it & Lucille certainly wouldn’t. But Thomas tries. He offers Lucile the ONLY chance at redemption & a happier future he can see & she rejects it & if it weren’t for that the movie might feel senselessly cruel toward Lucille to me in a way that leaves behind a bitter taste but instead - because of that offer & the subsequent violent rejection - I think the tragedy is absolutely delicious.

In the words of Edith Cushing - “Ghosts are just metaphors for the past.”

And Crimson Peak is the tragic story of a family that could never & will never escape the past & the fact that that’s a choice - that the option to at least try to escape was always there - is crucial to making that impactful. The emotional crux of a well written tragedy will always be this tiny horrible inkling of an idea that maybe it didn’t have to be that way. But of course it did.

[tomafome]

Penthesilea: Hans Jürgen Syberberg & Edith Clever (1988). Original text: Heinrich von Kleist. Compiled and edited, photographs and text: Hans Jürgen Syberberg. Co-prod. Schauspiel Frankfurt/Berlin Kulturstadt Europas 1988/Paris Festival d’Automne. Premiere: Schauspiel Frankfurt, 16-4-1988. The photographs were taken in the autumn of 1987 during the rehearsals at the Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord and during the shooting of the film in 1988. Il y a déjà eu, en septembre 39, un projet de film sur «Penthesilea» présenté sous forme d’exposé par Leni Riefenstahl. Là-dessus vint une autre guerre qui en empêcha la réalisation. Hitler, dans les actualités de la deuxième guerre mondiale, l’appelait son Heldenlied, sa chanson de geste—Heldenlied comme tous les films que L.R. a tournés en ersatz ou en ébauche de ce drame sanglant et funeste! Plus tard, il y eut encore un projet où Brigitte Bardot devait reprendre le rôle. Destin de l'art après guerre... Donc, maintenant, théâtre et film pensés l'un dans l'autre; le tumulte des éléments représenté, non pas dans un paysage naturel, mais dans une chambre, à travers un être humain. — H.J.S. in Penthesilea, théâtre et film (document de communication du Festival d'Automne à Paris, version française)

[maljaws]

@thenoeyebunnynobunsusmaingallery inspired me to post my own

Wilbur Whateley HCs

In my version, Lavinia Whateley/his mom died in childbirth, leaving their occult obsessed, half-insane grandfather as their sole guardian

He's a very isolated man and only goes into Dunwich or generally off his property when he needs to, the people there aren't very kind to him after all Most food he can grow, water he has a well

This can lead to downright comical interactions of him looking in his 40s-ish but not knowing how to hail a cab Just, standing there until he manages to figure it out Which wouldn't be too long, he's a clever man, but far longer than it'd take for somebody who's been doing this their whole life

^ Someone take him to see a single film he's never been

If you've seen/played What Remains Of Edith Finch, the inside of the Whateley home has a similar aura to it's house. Scattered books on set in bookshelves, and old wall paper, dotted with paintings and photos from many many generations before him

He has no electricity, plumbing nor a proper stove for the time, so all old-fashioned And he doesn't care to change that anytime soon

When he's soaked, he smells like just a wet dog

Due to no bones, he works on octopus logic! If his teeth, beak, and any hard accessories fit through a gap he can squeeze his entire body through ^ Same goes with Oscar

Man relies on tools, though he has some degree of physical strength its far from his forte If he were to need to strangle somebody, it'd be by rope In a fight with no set up? He's gonna crumple quickly without a gun to defend himself Traps on the Whateley property help a lot to deal with any intruders

He's a really good cook! Though his tastes are tailored to himself and Oscar (The Dunwich Horror itself) so it may be odd

Man is SURROUNDED by books, its his dedication in life right now Also, one of few forms of entertainment

Next to, of course, taking care of his brother. They play Chess a lot, though their board is one of those giant sets so Oscar can actually see and control the pieces That was a primary decompressing activity when he was younger

He is still 15, so he still has some kid-like tendencies and wants, although since his grandfather's passed he's had to take up everything and functionally be the adult

He's very very busy. Afterall he's a farmer, a scholar, and the caretaker for Oscar He'll rest when reality is dead

Moon and inky cap motif hell yeah

I have so many of these and may've even forgotten some, apologies for how unorganized this is