#flint was a villain in that book. were you going into the show black sails and meeting captain flint and expecting him to be

[toytulini]

I dont wanna be mean but I think some people are too stupid to understand basic storytelling concepts like character arcs, flaws and nuance. Like the whole reason I love flint so much is the bait and switch of his character, going in blind you almost feel what the other characters must feel for him; distrust and fear, unsure of what his motivation is. But then you see more, you understand that the situation is a lot more nuanced than that (ily if you know what I'm quoting there lol) and you view his past actions in a new light, not necessarilycondoning them but have a new light shone on them. One episode will not do any of the intricate stories being told justice 🙄

black sails gave all the characters SO MUCH to unpack and it gives it such good rewatch value like im on my fourth go now and still losing my mind. I wont call them stupid but the way some people acting in those notes got me like.....were we watching the same shows. were you paying attention at all. stop making me feel like an exasperated english teacher. god damn.

[be-not-afeared]

Jaime Lannister and John Silver: of arcs and endings

Or, herein follows a possibly niche comparison between the character arcs of Jaime Lannister (Game of Thrones, HBO, 2011-2019) and John Silver (Black Sails, Starz, 2014-2017), in which I will argue that Jaime’s character arc fails not because of Jaime’s actions, but because of the way his story is framed to the viewer throughout the series, using Silver as a springboard to explore the requisites for a tragic yet satisfying ending.

(Yes, this is 5K words long. No, I am not sorry. Spoilers for Jaime’s and Silver’s storylines in their respective shows, and while I’ve tried to stay vague about the Bigger Picture, read at your own risk.)

Okay, so. I was, and still am, to an extent, a huge Game of Thrones fan. I’ve pored over the books, been to conventions, and spent a good couple of years while I was at uni discussing fan theories on message boards into the early hours of the morning. Jaime Lannister has been one of my favourite fictional characters for over a decade. Yet I certainly wasn’t alone in watching in horror as years of hopeful build up was thrown away in the span of one and a half episodes during the final season of the show. There are *many* things that hurt about season 8 of Game of Thrones. But the swift 180 we see in Jaime, from aiding the Starks in the Battle of Winterfell and finally choosing Brienne, to abandoning her to return to Cersei 20 minutes later, was, for me, one of the deepest cuts.

When I started watching Black Sails this August, I was immediately compelled by Silver – unsurprisingly, as someone who has exactly one favourite character type: Traumatised and Morally Grey Anti-Villain. Watching Silver’s character develop over the four seasons of Black Sails was an absolute joy, and his ending in the finale, though *incredibly difficult*, was nuanced and in character and satisfying. (Am going to try and keep as vague as possible on details here, because Black Sails is an incredible show that more people should watch and I don’t want to completely spoil the ending).  Silver and Jaime are two characters with a lot of similarities and their characters arcs appear to run in direct parallel with each other: both selfish and arrogant men who become more empathetic and invested in others as the series progresses, in large part prompted by the loss of a limb. However, the gulf in reception of their overall arcs can be pinpointed to one huge disparity between the way both storylines were framed to the audience, and that is difference between redemption and tragedy.

“I was that hand”

But first! Let’s start with the more obvious stuff.

When we meet Jaime Lannister and John Silver in the pilots of their respective shows, they are both introduced as arrogant and self-serving – yet charming – men, who place the needs of themselves (and Cersei, in Jaime’s case) above all else. Silver kills and impersonates the cook on the merchant ship Flint’s crew captures, and has no qualms about lying his way onto the crew whilst simultaneously planning to sell the Urca schedule to the highest bidder. For Silver, his own survival comes before any sense of moral code. We are told stories about Jaime before we properly meet him  – that he killed the previous king, Aerys Targaryen, that he has no honour – but nothing that we see first-hand contradicts this; at the end of the pilot he attempts to kill a child to cover up his and Cersei’s incestuous relationship. Silver is certainly supposed to be more likeable than Jaime, but both men, despite their lack of morals, are presented as charming, clever, and good with a one-liner. As we move through the early seasons of both shows, they are consistent in these traits, although Jaime is presented as an outright antagonist whereas Silver from the outset is a morally grey unknown entity, keeping viewers on our toes wondering if he’ll turn against Flint, against Billy, against Eleanor. Things change, for both men, however, with the direct lead up and fallout of the loss of a limb: Jaime’s hand and Silver’s leg.

The introduction of Brienne of Tarth as Jaime’s foil kickstarts his path towards becoming the honourable man he once dreamed of being. During their roadtrip across Westeros, she challenges him and is able to get under his skin in a way we haven’t yet seen before. This comes to a head when the duo are captured, and Jaime intervenes during her attempted rape, lying about her ransom worth and saving her from an awful fate. The result? The immediate amputation of Jaime’s sword hand, representative of Jaime’s identity (“I was that hand”). Jaime is punished for the first selfless act we see him commit on the show with the loss of the source of his power and self-worth.

Silver, in a similar fashion, finds himself in a position to save the crew he has spent two seasons disparaging. When he is offered the opportunity to betray his crew for an escape route, he refuses (the reasons for this refusal never outright stated, although I imagine Flint’s “where else will you wake up in the morning and matter” and Billy’s “that’s our brother you’ve got there” both factor heavily). Again, the result of this refusal is the brutal torture and eventual amputation of Silver’s leg – a man who in his own words is “not a joiner”, prone to taking what he needs and leaving, to reinventing himself, to always having an escape route. As actor Luke Arnold says: “He's a guy who's always had one leg out the door, and then they cut it off.”

What is interesting here is not only that we have two characters who are *punished* for moving beyond their selfishness, but that that punishment is specifically catered towards their defining characteristics. Jaime is left unable to fight, unable to defend himself, unable to uphold his reputation. Silver is left unable to run, unable to leave his past behind him, unable to remain without attachments. Both are left vulnerable.  The loss of Jaime’s hand forces him to reinvent himself in a world ruled by swords; as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, father to Tommen, and an honourable man working to uphold his oath, through Brienne, to Catelyn Stark. The loss of Silver’s leg, however, leaves him *unable* to reinvent himself; forcing him to rely on his crew and paving the way for the growth of his relationship with Flint and Madi. In losing their limbs both Jaime and Silver are set on paths towards gaining empathy, and are able to become invested in those around them.

 “Defined by their histories, distorted to fit their narratives”

Game of Thrones and Black Sails both engage heavily with ideas of myth-making and storytelling. Stories are woven into the mythology of Westeros; a world with thousands of years of history revealed to us slowly over the seasons to suit the narrative and the teller. We are told the story of Rhaegar Targaryen’s kidnap and rape of Lyanna Stark in the pilot, and at first this serves to provide a tragic landscape for Robert’s unhealthy relationship with his wife and his crown. It is only as the show develops and we hear more about Rhaegar and Lyanna that we realise there is more to this story; in season 5 Littlefinger recounts the events of the Tourney of Harrenhal to foreshadow the reveal of Jon’s parentage later that season, that Rhaegar and Lyanna had a happy and consensual relationship and that it is Robert who could be viewed as the villain of this sequence. We are taught through watching the show to never assume that any given story is true. Black Sails similarly plays with the idea of the power of the storyteller, combining historical pirates with fictional pirates and an origin story for Treasure Island, and going to great lengths to show that history is in the hands of the victor. Most of the primary sources of pirate history are from the perspective of civilised England, and in the process of watching the show we come to realise the bias inherent in these histories; much like in Game of Thrones, they are stories, and should not be assumed to be either true or accurate. As Jack says in the finale: “a story is true, a story is untrue […] The stories we want to believe, those are the ones that survive”.

Jaime Lannister and John Silver are both characters defined by stories that are forced upon them without choice: the Kingslayer and Long John Silver. We meet Jaime as the Kingslayer; our opinion of him is immediately formed by the story of him stabbing in the back the King he had sworn to protect, and cemented by the fact that our protagonist, Ned Stark, a man we like and trust, is the one telling this story. The Kingslayer’s presence is so strong in the first two seasons of the show that Jaime becomes nameless, reduced to this one defining act. It is only after the loss of his hand, and through his developing bond with Brienne, that he is finally able to tell his own story and we realise our entire perception of Jaime’s character has been based on an incorrect interpretation of events: that in killing Aerys Targaryen Jaime was saving the population of Kings Landing from destruction via wildfire. It is only after the truth of this story has been revealed to us that Jaime is able to begin moving past the Kingslayer and forging a new identity.

We see this in reverse in Black Sails, for the story of Long John Silver is not introduced until the season 3 finale, but like Jaime, this story is not told by Silver. Billy creates the myth of Long John, commits the acts attributed to him, and uses him as a figurehead for the pirate rebellion all without Silver’s knowledge or consent. Season 4 sees Silver wrestle with this identity of King of the Pirates, surrounded by people who want to use ‘Long John Silver’ for their own benefit: Billy, Israel Hands, even Flint. As the power and influence of Long John Silver the story grows, John Silver the man is disregarded, and his value reduced to how he can further everyone else’s individual causes. Though he does embrace this title (for a time, at least) to further “Flint and Madi’s war”, a cause he doesn’t truly believe in beyond his investment in Flint and Madi as people, we come to realise that the ‘character’ of Long John Silver that we know from Treasure Island is only that: a character, a story, a collective created for a larger cause that Silver himself eventually betrays.

I have seen some criticism of this scene, but for me one of the few redeeming moments of the Game of Thrones finale was Brienne writing Jaime’s story in the Book of White. Despite Jaime’s less than satisfactory conclusion, with this act he is finally able to move past the Kingslayer; Brienne has rewritten his narrative, and he will be remembered as a Knight who “died protecting his Queen”. Silver is offered no such release. By contrast, the story of Long John Silver is all that will be remembered; the worst fear for a man who cannot bear for his own story to be known. Indeed, we learn that “those who stood to benefit most from [Long John Silver] were the most eager to leave it all behind”. While Jaime is able to escape the story of the Kingslayer, the story of Long John Silver is what will endure, “all that is left of [him] is the monster in the story they tell their children”. Hello Treasure Island.

 “Reviled by so many for my finest act"

We can see here that Jaime and Silver’s narratives deal with similar themes, but often in contrasting ways. Just as with storytelling, Jaime and Silver’s backstories are key parts of their storylines in their respective shows, but operate with very different functions. (It is only as I am writing this that I’m realising how similar the themes of Game of Thrones and Black Sails actually are? If only Game of Thrones had the follow through of Black Sails... We were all rooting for you, etc etc).

Jaime’s backstory, and the truth of the act that earned him the title ‘Kingslayer’, is revealed to us mid-way through season 3. This comes at a very key moment for his character: Jaime has just lost his hand and is at his most vulnerable, and Brienne’s stubborn and persistent honour is clearly starting to affect him. “I trust you,” he says to her in the bathroom scene in 3x05, and we can assume that this is the first time he has said this to someone who isn’t a Lannister in quite some time, possibly ever. Essentially, the reveal of Jaime’s backstory comes at a moment where we are already beginning to soften towards him and are therefore open to hearing an alternative interpretation of events. While Jaime needs to be able to tell his story to begin to move past the identity of the Kingslayer, if this reveal had come too soon it wouldn’t have had the same dramatic effect, as viewers wouldn’t have been open to seeing him in a different light. All we saw of Jaime in the first two seasons was the “man without honour” that everyone believes him to be; by mid-season three we are already beginning to realise that there is perhaps more to him that meets the eye, so the reveal of his backstory has the most impact.

(This is exactly what Black Sails does with Flint’s backstory, and I firmly believe that if we had been told his story in season one as was originally the plan it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as effective. We needed to know more about Flint, and to see his uneasy partnership with Silver begin to develop as we delved into the backstory piece by piece, so that by 2x05 our hearts were ready to be broken. Buuut that’s a different essay.)

Black Sails loves a backstory. As we move through the show we slowly learn why and how our favourite characters came to be in Nassau , and universally these reveals add to our understanding of that character and their motivations: for Flint, for Billy, for Max, for Jack. We enter season four with Silver as the only character we don’t know anything about prior to the pilot. Surely then, we were about to get a ‘Jaime Lannister bathroom scene’ equivalent, a moment that will add depth and understanding to Silver’s character? Were any of the stories he has told about his past true? Who is Solomon Little? … Instead, what we get is one of my favourite sequences of the entire show, in which, after Flint realises that he knows nothing of Silver’s past, Silver reveals that Flint, and by proxy the viewer, knows “of [him] all [he] can bear to be known”. Silver is the ultimate storyteller, master of manipulating and deceiving others through the power of a narrative, yet he cannot bear to be the story himself. We never learn Silver’s backstory, and all he reveals of his past is that it speaks to “events of the kind no one can divine any meaning from, other than the world is a place of unending horrors”; he has chosen to repress his past, has rendered it unspeakable, and both Flint and the viewer are only left to wonder at what these “horrors” could be.

Although this lack of backstory adds nothing to our view of who Silver *was*, it is key to understanding who Silver *is*, and *why* Silver makes some of his more controversial choices further down the line. Silver’s need to repress his past is as key to his character as Flint’s need to define himself by his own backstory. We understand from this that Silver has experienced a level of trauma which is unspeakable, quite a feat for a show with plenty of other horrific backstories and especially pertinent given that Silver is one of our most gifted orators. Silver’s inability to process his past explains a lot of his actions in the early seasons; his coping mechanism has been to move through life without forming attachments, convincing himself that he doesn’t need (and shouldn’t need) other people. It is safe to assume that Madi and Flint are the first people he has let himself be truly vulnerable with, which paints his actions throughout season four in a different light; loving people is new for Silver, and he doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy or selfless way. The placement of this scene is as important to Black Sails as Jamie’s bathroom scene is to Game of Thrones; we needed to have already seen Long John Silver’s significance to the war spiral beyond Silver’s control, to have seen him become compromised by his love for Madi and the beginnings of the collapse of his partnership with Flint, for this scene to pack the punch that it aims for and to beautifully set up the culmination of his arc in the finale. How devastating, for a man who cannot bear for himself to be known, to be the one figure whose story will outlive them all.

Both of these scenes have stayed with me long past my first watch, and feel vital to understanding Jaime and Silver as characters. For Jaime, his backstory informs all his actions moving forward, his desire to transcend the Kingslayer, to become an “Oathkeeper”, or even “Golden-hand the Just”. For Silver, his lack of backstory informs all his actions up to this point in the narrative and prepares us for the choices to come. Just as Jaime is defined by his past, Silver is defined by his *lack* of past.

 “This is not what I wanted”

So, we’ve tracked Jaime and Silver’s characters throughout the show, but how do they both end? The answer, of course, is… tragically. Jaime is offered a glimpse at what could be a peaceful life, in Winterfell with Brienne, before turning it down to return to Cersei’s side only to meet his end while the duo try to escape the collapsing walls of Kings Landing. Silver betrays Flint and Madi in a horrific fashion, ensuring that they both survive though knowing that in doing so he was destroying his relationship with Flint and that there was a chance Madi would never forgive him his actions. (Or, this is my chosen interpretation of the ending, in any case, although the point still works if you prefer one of the other readings). Just thinking about Silver’s ending in Black Sails makes me want to cry. Thinking about Jaime’s ending in Game of Thrones makes to want to cry too, although for a very different reason. Neither are the ending we would hope for these characters in an optimistic and ideal world. But Silver’s decision to betray Flint and Madi feels narratively satisfying in a way that Jaime’s decision to betray Brienne and return to Cersei never could. Why is that?

Jaime Lannister’s character progression from season 3 onwards was set up as a redemption arc. We thought we were watching a jaded and selfish man become an honourable man. The show, admittedly, takes its sweet time with this journey in comparison to the book equivalent, and inserts some *interesting* deviations which I won’t dwell on here (looking at you 4x03 and the entirety of season 5). But, ultimately, the journey that Jaime finds himself on from the moment he loses his hand seems to be heading for a triumphant ending. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting him to survive the series. But I was expecting him to go out in a blaze of glory – fighting side by side with Brienne, perhaps, or protecting Bran, or one of the other characters he had wronged in the past. There was also always the chance that he would end up fulfilling the much subscribed to book theory of the valonqar, although this admittedly looked less likely as that particular line of the prophecy was cut from the show. When Jaime finally leaves Cersei at the end of season 7 it is such a triumphant moment – after years of struggling with these warring parts of himself, his toxic love for Cersei and his growing moral conscience, a decision had been made and a tie cut. We enter season 8 assuming that there is no going back. We don’t get a hint of any conflicting feelings from Jaime about this decision in the first half of season 8; we are focused on preparation for the Battle of Winterfell, and revelling in the joy of having Jaime and Brienne in the same place for longer than a single episode for the first time since season 4. We get the knighting scene (which, let’s be honest, is where the season peaks). We get the battle. We get the sex scene between Jaime and Brienne (which I… don’t love, for many reasons up to and including the weird virgin shaming jokes from Tyrion in the previous scene and their level of intoxication, but still gives no hint that Jaime is battling an inner war). And then later in that same episode, despite Brienne pleading with him to stay, we get Jaime’s snap decision to return to Kings Landing to attempt to save Cersei: “You think I’m a good man? […] She’s hateful, and so am I”.

The issue here isn’t the decision itself, or Jaime’s choice of words. We know that Jaime isn’t a good man. We know that he’s done awful things for Cersei’s love. And, if we think about it, it makes sense that he wouldn’t be able to leave behind a lifelong co-dependent and unhealthy relationship without looking back, and that he would be driven to return to Cersei’s side when the reality of her impending death hit. The issue is that none of this decision making is presented in the show itself; there was no build up, no foreshadowing. Instead of showing us why this decision was made, the show presents this scene as a shock twist, leaving the viewer with whiplash wondering how Jaime’s story could have taken such an unexpected turn so quickly. The redemption arc that we all thought we were watching was not a redemption arc at all, and don’t think I was alone in finding this revelation deeply unsatisfying.

Let’s leave Jaime for a moment and turn to John Silver. Even for viewers who entered Black Sails without knowing they were watching a prequel to Treasure Island (such as myself!), we can assume that most people have heard of the fictional pirate Long John Silver: the ‘villain’ of Robert Louis Stevenson’s adventure who embodies what it means to be a “gentleman of fortune”.  When we meet clean-shaved, smarmy, two-legged Silver in the pilot most viewers will at least have an idea of the trajectory his arc will take – and that it won’t end with him and Flint skipping off into the sunset hand in hand. We know, because of history, that the pirate rebellion is doomed to fail, that slavery does not end in the West Indies, that Nassau does indeed fall back under English rule, and that piracy is eventually stamped out of New Providence. And we know, because of Treasure Island, that John Silver will end up hunting for Captain Flint’s treasure, while Billy Bones dies from a stroke at the very idea of a visit from Long John and Flint drinks himself to death in Savannah. In essence, we know that we are watching a tragedy.

The genre of tragedy dates back to Ancient Greece, and describes a narrative that presents an examination of human suffering while evoking a sense of catharsis. Aristotle defines tragedy as “an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude … through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation [release] of these emotions.” In other words, in order for a tragedy to achieve this state of emotional release, we as the viewer need to both anticipate (or, fear) the resolution and feel sympathy (or, pity) towards the tragic hero. Black Sails does this masterfully. The pathway towards the destruction of Silver and Flint’s partnership has its grounds as early as season 2, before it has even really started to develop, where Silver talks of his fears of being “used and discarded” by Flint. In the finale of season 3 it is made explicit during their conversation before the battle, with Silver interrogating what he sees as the pattern of Flint’s loved ones dying “not just during [their] relationship, but because of it”. Silver finds himself “unnerved by the thought that when this pattern applies itself to [Flint] and [Silver], that [he] will be the end of [Flint]”. As they lock eyes across the water later on in this episode, the setup of their opposition, complicated by the genuine care between them, is complete, and we enter season 4 dreading the crumbling of their relationship. Season 4 dangles this dramatic irony over us; every time Flint mentions the indestructible force of their partnership, the things they can achieve when there is “no daylight” between them; every time Silver mentions that Flint has his “genuine trust and friendship”; every time they both speak of their partnership in the same terms as the love that Silver holds for Madi, “I’m committed to Flint, I’m committed to Madi” / “he is my friend, too”, we dread the moment where this will all change. We may not know how it will play out, but we know it is coming. The “fear” is very much present. As, indeed, is the “pity”. We understand why Silver makes the decision he does, even if we don’t agree with it. The show has taken lengths to track the development of Silver’s ability to care and make himself vulnerable to others; we believe in his love for Madi, and understand why he believes that he is doing the right thing. Silver’s tragic flaw is that in gaining empathy his selfishness moves to encompass those he cares about; he will do dark things to protect them without consideration of their own choices or agency.  The finale of Black Sails is difficult, beautiful, and yes, tragic, but we end Silver’s story understanding and perhaps even empathising with the decisions he made, believing him when he says that “this is not what [he] wanted”.

 Tragedy vs redemption

John Silver’s story is a tragedy. And I believe that Jaime Lannister’s story is also a tragedy; a deeply flawed man who tries to escape the inevitability of an abusive and unhealthy relationship, only to eventually fall back into this cycle and become consumed by it. The problem is that this wasn’t the story we thought we were watching. The ending of Jamie’s character arc has none of the fear, none of the pity, none of the catharsis of Silver’s, because there was no signposting towards this end. If Jaime’s arc had been treated as a tragedy from the outset then perhaps it would have felt emotionally satisfying rather than rushed and unexpected.

Admittedly, as Jaime is not as central to Game of Thrones as Silver is to Black Sails, the show could not spend as much time detailing his inner world as Black Sails does to the latter. However, if the show had framed Jaime’s story with a sense of tragedy rather than triumph, then his decision to return to Cersei in season 8 would have had the same inevitability as Silver’s betrayal. In season 1 of Game of Thrones, as in the first instalment of A Song of Ice and Fire, Cersei tells Ned Stark that she and Jaime “are more than brother and sister. We shared a womb, came into this world together. We belong together”. However, the show doesn’t include Jaime and Cersei’s later, darker ruminations, that “we will die together as we were born together” (Jaime, ASOS), and “we will leave this world together, as we once came into it” (Cersei, AFFC). Jaime and Cersei’s doomed fate in the books is entangled in a way it never is in the show, and doubly so when you factor in the possibility of Jaime actively causing Cersei’s end due to the valonqar prophecy. In addition to this, if we had seen Jaime leave Cersei earlier in the narrative and then grapple with this decision, showing him struggling to be the man Brienne believes him to be and overcome his past actions, then his failure wouldn’t have seemed so out of the blue. With very little effort or changes on the part of the show, Jaime’s *entire* arc could have been framed in a way that would have made his death a tragically fitting end to his and Cersei’s story.

Jaime and Silver both end their respective narratives in very similar places to when they were introduced, or at least they do on the surface: Jaime unable to leave Cersei even in death, Silver alone and eventually chasing treasure (yes, Madi is still in the picture, but I don’t think we are meant to infer that their future relationship will be a trusting one). However, for Silver, this similarity is only surface deep, for we followed his growth and development and understand the tragedy of his choices. Although Jaime goes through a very similar pattern of growth, the framing of his arc as redemptive means that the unexpected nosedive into tragedy in season 8 doesn’t have the weight or impact that it intends, and we are left without understanding *why* he makes his choices. Jaime’s arc is a failed tragedy that doesn’t fulfil the cathartic requirements of the genre, but with a bit of reframing it could have been as emotionally resonant as Silver’s.

Long story short: watch Black Sails.

[im-the-punk-who]

Black Sails as John Silver's SuperVillain Origin Story

Okay so I recently got asked about my views on Silver in a roundabout way so HERE ARE SOME OF THEM. I don’t often post about him because honestly I just really dislike him but he’s an extremely well written character and one of the best ‘villains’ I have ever seen portrayed. The reason Black Sails is such a compelling prequel to Treasure Island is that it does not just say ‘John Silver is a villain because he does bad things.’ Like all the characters in Black Sails he is complex, with deep and thoughtful motivations for the things he does. We see him as a villain because Black Sails sets his goals up in opposition to those of the protagonists we want to succeed - Flint and Madi - but he is not villainous in his own right.

But it is the effects of those motivations on himself that, to me, are the most interesting. 

And just up front because I know this is a touchy subject - especially coming from, well, me, lmao. This is how I read Silver. If you disagree, that’s cool. Like literally everything else in Black Sails(and fiction in general), Silver’s character is mutable based on your views and experiences. Tomato/Tomato.

So! To me, the most important thing about John Silver’s character in Black Sails, is who he is in Treasure Island. Black Sails is a prequel, and Silver is a major character in Treasure Island. We see his actions in the book(albeit through the story of the man who survives him, and, oof, isn’t that a bit of a kicker). We know that in this future Silver is still a lying, manipulative and mysterious person, hard not to like but hard to know.

That consistency is the most important part of Long John Silver’s character to me: he doesn’t really change from the beginning of Black Sails to the end, because he’s not really meant to. 

Silver may not exactly like the person he is but there is no point in trying or wanting to change.  In his view, who he is is just as immutable as the world he exists in. 

And that's the brilliance of Black Sails. 

Silver isn’t the way he is because he is ‘evil,’ or because he wants to intentionally cause harm. He is the way he is because it is the only way he’s worked out to survive. It is “the only state in which he can function.” He does not believe in a cosmic story, in a grand design or justice in the world - and because of that he does not see the point in trying to change something that has kept him alive thus far to appease it.

The entirety of the beach flashbacks is, to me, the summation of both Flint and Silver’s characters but this in particular I feel is important:

-Do you really imagine a few weeks of this is going to make much of a difference? Am I not what I am at this point?

-It's better than nothing.

In the grand scheme, Flint and Silver only know each other for about six months. 

Their relationship - especially to Silver - is a transient one. A handful of weeks. Was it ever enough to expect it to make any bit of difference?

But not so for Flint. He truly believes humans are capable of change, and he believes even the smallest bit of progress is worth the effort. Flint takes the things that happen to him and make them a part of him.

But for Silver,

I've come to peace with the knowledge...that there is no storyteller imposing any coherence, nor sense, nor grace upon those events.

Therefore, there's no duty on my part to search for it.

Silver refuses to acknowledge his own story and so is unable or unwilling to see himself as capable of change throughout it. Or even really the need for change. And that’s not said as a negative - that is who he is. That is who his past - whatever it was - has taught him.

And so he consistently acts solely for his own gain, benefit, and safety. Because if he doesn’t, who else is going to?

And this continues the differences between Flint and Silver. 

While Silver is very wrong that his past is irrelevant, he is correct in that it doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter what his past is, because we can clearly see the effects of it. We don't NEED to know his past to understand his actions.

However, without knowing Flint’s backstory - Thomas, Miranda, England’s betrayal - his actions don't make sense. They are erratic: they seem villainous and vile and like the acts of a tyrant or a madman. Because his actions are tied to his story.

But from the very first moment we see Silver fight the cook over what he presumes is a chance at living, Silver is clearly trying to figure out what is best for him. 

He doesn’t care about Flint’s war, or what the treasure could fund. He doesn’t care about the pardons, and he doesn't care about England. He doesn’t care about piracy. All he cares about at first is the life the treasure could buy him. But when he loses his leg, suddenly the thing he literally spent two seasons fucking everyone over for becomes completely inconsequential, because it no longer benefits him.

It is without relevance.

And through the very last time we see him speaking him to Madi, he is doing the same thing. 

That's not to say he doesn't form friendships or care about people. He is, indeed, a hard man not to like, and I think he also genuinely likes people as well. But that doesn’t mean he changes because of them. The friendships he forms with Flint - with Billy, with Muldoon and Randall and the other crew members - the relationship he forms with Madi. They are all real, but they are also all expendable to ensure his own comfort and survival. 

In the first episode of season 2 we’re told point blank:

It’s likely that if our interests were averse, I’d betray you to save myself.

And of course at this point Silver and Flint are little more than necessary enemies, Silver has no reason to want Flint alive. But the pattern holds throughout the whole show. 

Later in season 2, when Flint is thinking about changing tactics to prioritize the pardons over the gold, Silver has no problem screwing over the entire crew(minus the two men he’s recruited) to meet his own ends. It’s what’s best for him, and Silver operates on this assumption that every person needs to look out for themselves. 

And then again, in the finale of season 2 - he saves the crew because it also means saving himself. When Vincent brings up leaving, Silver says that they would likely be killed if they tried - he’s already considered that option and rejected it because his odds of survival are higher sticking with the crew. 

And then of course, in season three, in the maroon cages - you can bet that the fact that flint’s psyche basically controlled whether they all - including him - lived or died was a major driving force behind his dedication to getting Flint to come up with a plan better than Billy’s in which - again - they all likely end up dead. 

His relationships with Madi and Flint in particular are deep, and so it is the worst thought possible when he realizes that they are starting to agree with each other, but not with him. When Madi agrees with Flint over trading the cache for the fort, I read this as the true end of Silver’s support of the war because the war now threatens his personal ‘safety.’

Because at that moment, the thing most important to him is keeping Madi - who he not only has come to care for but who supports him. And she makes him know she supports him. And the prospect of losing that is what ultimately I think drives him to planning to send Flint away, rather than bring Thomas there or some other plan. 

And again it isn’t maliciousness - not outright. He is doing what he thinks he needs to to survive, because he cannot have enough faith in either Flint or Madi to think they won’t drop him the moment he stops being invaluable. And in the end, that lack of faith is what spells the end for any chance he has at having them in his life.

When he thinks Madi might die if they continue, he doesn’t care if she hates him. He doesn’t care if Flint hates him. He doesn’t care if the relationship is destroyed if he gets what he wants out of it. Madi’s survival. The end of the war. An end to Flint and Madi’s relationship so that he can ‘protect’ her from death and choose how he ‘loses’ her. It is always less painful to be the one doing the leaving.

Based on his world view - that you must protect what is in your own interests and the only person you can count on is yourself - that is the right thing to do.

Over and over we see that Silver is mostly interested in other people through the guise of his interest in keeping himself alive. And I also think that because of that, he views himself as expendable to other people as well. 

When Muldoon insists that the crew would take care of him if he needed that, it’s clear that Silver doesn’t believe him. He still believes himself to be expendable unless he is useful. He is constantly managing his image, managing how people see him, managing the things he allows others to see and what dangers or threats they pose to him, because he believes these are the things that keep him safe. Not his friendships, but what he brings to them.

Part of what’s so heartbreaking about Silver’s arc in season 4 is how terrifyingly close he comes to believing himself worthy. He wants the war because the two people who mean the most to him, who he sees as vital to his own survival - Flint and Madi - are both committed to it. And he’s committed to them. But I also think that just for a second, he starts to see their vision. 

When things are going well, when he can’t see the body count, he comes so close. But then of course, when everything falls apart and he is forced to confront once again the horrors of the world, he retreats.

That line he has:

And as long as (I have his true friendship) he is going to have mine.

I see that get thrown around a lot as a declaration of love, of deep feelings - and it is, to an extent. But it is also a sign of the deep mistrust that Silver harbors even when he is not looking to.

Even in this moment when he has Madi, when it must seem like they are nigh unstoppable and Silver himself is poised at the head of this great thing - when he and Flint are closest and when, I assume, Flint couldn’t fathom betraying him. Silver is still thinking in the eventuality that it will happen.

I have his true friendship, and as long as that is true, he is going to have mine. 

Silver’s love is always conditional. And that doesn’t make it any less ‘real’. It doesn’t make it any less important. But it does make it easier to take back. And that’s important for him!! It’s important for Silver’s own safety that he never rely on someone so much that he cannot cut them loose if they pose a ‘danger’ to him.

And to me, that’s the most important thing to realize about Silver. He is a ‘villain’ - and again I use the term loosely because he is ONLY a ‘villain’ because our protagonist’s stories are set in opposition to his - because he will always put himself above the grander goal. 

We see this in Black Sails, and we see this in Treasure Island. John Silver betrays Jim even though he feels conflicted about it. It isn’t until the very end, until Silver sees once again the same opportunity flash before his eyes where someone he loves is in danger and he cannot live with their death, that the treasure itself becomes unimportant again. Black Sails does an incredible job of giving us an antagonist whose defining trait is that he cannot see himself being meaningful in any way that matters. 

Silver ends up destroying just about every relationship he has because of this inability. Time and again when he is faced with an opportunity for growth that comes with hard decisions, he chooses to destroy himself. Because it is easy. 

It is easy to destroy the thing you do not care about, it is easy to destroy yourself if you don't value yourself. To call it winning because at least you are still alive and the things you’ve had to sacrifice are merely unimportant - inconsequential. But thinking like that hurts not only ourselves, but others too. 

And it is not that Silver puts himself first, plenty of other characters do that as well - Miranda, Jack, Max. It is the fact that Silver must deny himself in the process that makes him the villain not just in Black Sails, but in his own story. And THAT is the origins of his supervillain story. That he is, in fact, his own. 

[popwasabi]

Civilization is coming: “Black Sails” and when rage is justified

(SPOILERS ahead! You’ve been warned...)

There’s a moment late in the first episode of the highly underappreciated series “Black Sails” that hints not only at the troubled past of its lead character Captain Flint but also describes the larger theme of the story.

Flint has gotten himself into trouble. Along with his crewmember Billy “Bones,” in an effort to secure the financing he needs to capture the gold from the Spanish warship known as L’Urca de Lima, his recklessness has gotten Nassau’s governor shot and injured and his plans all but evaporated. Billy feels they are now in too deep and they should not only turn back but perhaps new leadership is needed for Flint’s crew. It is here that Flint reveals a bit where his true ambitions lie.

(Toby Stephens, ladies and gentlemen.)

On the first viewing, Flint ominously declaring the pending arrival of “civilization” to the new world could mean anything from simply the imperialistic tendencies of the British and Spanish empire, to the draconian rulership of the crown or just “taxes” as he makes light mention of in this speech. But as the series progresses, especially in the second season, “civilization” begins to take a darker, more personal meaning.

The story begins to reveal that the dangerous pirates of Nassau are not at least inherently dastardly, although certainly violent, but victims of their various circumstances; a former slave turned prostitute turned keeper of secrets in Max, a neglected daughter becoming the bookkeeper of the pirates with Eleanor Guthrie, another former slave turned ruthless pirate captain in the vicious Charles Vane, and an abused woman turned deadliest pirate on the island Anne Bony, and none more painfully revealing than that of Flint himself.

You see Flint didn’t always go by this name, he used to be a prominent officer in the British navy named James McGraw until he met Thomas Hamilton, a wealthy proprietor tasked with solving the problem of the pirates of Nassau many years prior. Thomas had the radical idea of pardoning the entire island to bring them back into society, to avoid violence and bloodshed, and to better understand the people who would turn to piracy.

As James gets to know him more and his revolutionary philosophies of empathy and enlightenment the two unexpectedly fall in love and thus seal the fates of both their downfalls from “civilized” society.

With England unwilling to see any other way to end the pirates without exterminating all of them and looking to exploit weaknesses in Thomas to Parliament, he is outed and imprisoned. James along with Thomas’s wife Miranda, who lives in a polyamorous relationship between the two, are persona non-grata-ed and the two flee to Nassau to finish what Thomas started in an act of rebellion.

(This is seriously one of the most heart-wrenching, tragic reveals I have ever seen on TV. I totally knew it was coming at the time and I was still not prepared for how it was delivered.)

There are few things as personal as love and “Black Sails” uses this to show how far society can go to villainize people. Flint wasn’t born a monster, and he is not one for loving Thomas; he is a monster because “civilization” wanted him to be one.

As our own civilization enters a timeline that may promise great change, people who have been othered and victimized by society are finding themselves grappling with their pain and grief in the same way as Flint. People have tried peaceful reconciliation and conformity into society to avoid violence throughout history despite the labels they have been given for no other crime than being who they are, but civilization’s need for a monster always brings people down no matter how hard they try to do it the “right way.”

(Tell me if you see a justice system in this picture that looks interested in listening...)

Native Americans tried playing by the white man’s rules when America began moving west. Compromising over and over again and yet they were killed and still killed and neglected today for it.

African Americans tried becoming rich like their white counterparts in places like “Black Wallstreet” in Tulsa, Oklahoma  and were still bombed and massacred for it.

Asian and Latin Americans immigrated here to flee war and death largely caused by white imperialist countries, to survive and work jobs white Americans would not. Both are othered as foreigners, face violence from the state, and are deported everyday.

Poor working-class Americans try fruitlessly to keep their head above water as they become mired in debt, fighting a pandemic on slave wages essentially, all while our government cuts wealthy companies a fat paycheck annually with our own tax dollars. And anyone who fights back finds themselves without an income and health insurance during a recession and a pandemic.

And the LGBTQ+ community ask for the dignity to be left alone and treated normally but not only are they harassed for it but they are beaten, tortured, and killed for being different.

(Remember, Stonewall was a riot.)

Flint, himself, tries one last time, toward the end of season two, to peacefully resolve his vendetta with England and save Nassau from a war with them but instead finds himself facing the gallows anyways by the Charlestown government.

As they read out his charges, many of them real heinous things he did but also many that were fabricated, Flint stops them from proceeding any further and delivers a final act of defiance to the court.

“I have one regret,” he begins to the court of high society folks who are only interested in seeing him punished before the masses. “I regret ever coming to this place with the assumption that a reconciliation could be found. That reason could be a bridge between us. Everyone is a monster to someone. Since you are so convinced that I am yours, I will be it.”

It is at this point in the story that Flint, perhaps like other revolutionaries of the past, recognize that the system doesn’t want to reason with him, that these people aren’t looking to understand or empathize with him or even try for that matter. They wanted a monster, they made one in him, so he decides there that “civilization” as he had noted in the series first episode is not worth reconciling with and certainly not worthy of forgiveness.

And Flint spends the rest of the series in bloody war with them.

(From season 3. Again Toby Stephens, ladies and gentlemen)

“Black Sails” is about queerness, race, social politics, and the way conformity by force is used against it. It’s about the rage that boils underneath many of us as we are wronged over and over again by society, while being exploited to no end, and what happens when someone finally says “enough.”

Anyone who has experienced what it is like to be othered can find something deeply personal with the anger that Flint carries around with him in each scene of this series. We feel his pain of rejection by society, his grief for feeling ashamed of himself when he and the audience know he shouldn’t.

It's what makes the eventual reveal of his relationship with Thomas so cathartic, as we see the rage-filled guard of Flint drop as he reads Thomas’s words left for him in a book they both loved and shared.

(Again, I cannot emphasize enough how much of a gut-punch this reveal was watching this...)

"Know no shame” is so important to growth of this character and the message of this story. Civilization and those who wish to keep the status quo want those who do not fall in line with their authority and judgments to feel shame for who they are. They not only want monsters, they want you to feel like one and the reason Thomas line speaks so much to both Flint and the audience is that it reminds us there is no shame in who we are.

The country we live in is a powder keg right now experiencing the same rage that Flint feels and more specifically how he felt at the end of season 2. Though this country’s racist attitudes and subjugation of the vulnerable hardly started with this presidency it cannot be argued that it has brought all that hatred in our government and the people who support those views painfully to the surface. When people peacefully protest, peacefully assemble, and peacefully try to cast their vote and are still met with resistance, still met with hatred and violence, people have to start to wonder if operating within the system’s rules can actually affect change.

A lot has been made about the way protesters may have violently lashed out over the past three weeks, with media talking heads and privileged elites asking unironically why they couldn’t do things peacefully but more has been done as result of the rising tension than the previous 50 years combined. You can tell people to “#vote” all you want but it doesn’t change the fact that people have been trying that for decades and people are still getting quite literally killed for it.

(Again, I gotta ask, who is this protecting? Who is this serving?)

If there’s one takeaway I hope a viewer gets from “Black Sails” is that revolution, no matter how serious you are about it, should never be off the table when confronting systemic inequality. A racist, sexist, classist, and/or, in the case of Flint, homophobic power structure does not concede their power if you play to their convenience and when people are being put down, beaten, and often killed for showing their anger at this, calling for “law and order” becomes a slap in the face to the victims.

A government or system that treats you unjustly doesn’t deserve peace.

I’ll say it again.

A government or system that treats you unjustly doesn’t deserve peace.

No one wants it to get this far, I definitely don’t, and certainly not every peaceful mean has been exhausted yet in this fight perhaps but this country was literally founded on violent rebellion after being slighted all the same by out of balance power structures. I’m not advocating for violence or to take up arms against the state right now BUT no one should ever rule it out when the social contract keeps being broken and broken and broken again by those in charge who clearly don’t want to listen.

A government should always feel the threat of an uprising if it keeps wronging its people.

(See my blog post about “Do the Right Thing” if you need help understanding this quote.)

As the more fiery weeks of the protests seem to be in the rearview mirror and we find less activity and calls to action on our social media timelines, I want to remind you all to not let up with whatever you are choosing to do to help and keep fighting back out there. The people who stand to benefit from having angst of the general public leave and dissipate from our collective consciousness want us to forget how angry we are, they want us to feel fatigued and disinterested in continuing the push forward because “this is how they win” as Flint would say.

(Again, Toby Fucking Stephens, everyone.)

We have so much more power than we realize, just look at how much got done just by everyone uniting behind one marginalized group finally over the past three weeks. When we realize we are fighting essentially in the same battle for respect and dignity, justice in our society can be achieved. It can be done, and maybe just maybe we can finally change the world. Afterall who else has been as close to achieving it as we are right now?

Fight for your dignity and respect and stand in solidarity with others in their own fights as well, and always remember “know no shame.”

Raise the colors and Happy Pride, everyone! (credit: Luluxa on Tumblr)

[annecoulmanross]

Rules:

Pick 5 TV shows, then answer the following questions. Tag 10 (or however many) people.

I was tagged by my dear @princess-of-france​ – loved your answers, Hal, and thank you!

1. The Terror (surprising no one) 2. Black Sails (haven’t finished yet but we’re in that age of sail mood) 3. TURN: Washington’s Spies (AMC history show hours) 4. The Borgias (okay we have no shame about history shows today) 5. HBO Rome (hey, why the hell not; all history it is)

Who is your favorite character in 2? I’m very partial to Thomas Hamilton, partly because, even though I haven’t finished the show, I do know where it’s going thanks to tumblr. Also, gotta love a man with a vision of a classical res publica. Also (part 2), who else can make Marcus Aurelius so sexy? (I swear I do like this show for more than just its classical reception.) Others on the favorite character list so far are Anne Bonny and Flint himself – he’s so gosh darned fun to watch; Toby Stephens is a gift of an actor.

Who is your least favorite character in 1? I mean, there’s no character in The Terror who doesn’t fulfill an important narrative role. But just because, (for example) Hickey is interesting and complex and well-written doesn’t mean I like him. I suppose, though, the character I find most repellent would be Des Voeux. Again, he’s narratively necessary and yet deeply emotionally distasteful. I’m not a villains person.

What is your favorite episode of 4? I’m also not finished with this one, so my favorite episode out of just the first two seasons... it’s very hard to choose, but “The Beautiful Deception” (02x03) is particularly stellar.

What is your favorite season of 5? Well, the first season is vastly better paced than the second season (a fun side-effect of a show that thought it was going to have a few more seasons than it actually received), but the second season has “These Being the Words of Marcus Tullius Cicero,” (02x03) which, tragically, has been vitally important to my honest-to-god career. So uhhh this is a toss-up.

Who is your favorite couple in 3? Favorite canon couple would be our darling tragic André/Peggy. Favorite non-canon couple would be the irrepressible boys, Ben/Caleb.  

Who is your favorite couple in 2? Hhhhhh so yeah again, I started this show with a fair amount of fore-knowledge and Flint/Hamilton basically ticks all my ship boxes. Flint/Hamilton/Miranda also.

What is your favorite episode of 1? Oh god, it’s such a tightly written show that it’s very hard to choose. A part of me says that an early episode would be happier (I’m quite partial to “Gore” (01x02) since it has the best sledge party hours anyone’s ever seen, before everything goes wrong) but the tenderness toward the end of the show is so heartbreakingly lovely. For all its pain, “The C the C the Open Sea” (01x09) is incredibly beautiful.

What is your favorite episode of 5? As mentioned above, “These Being the Words of Marcus Tullius Cicero,” (02x03) is uhhhhh something. My “favorite” isn’t necessarily how I’d put it, but there’s no other episode that comes even close, so here we are. (I am haunted by the abstract concept of peaches...)

What is your favorite season of 2? Thus far, season 2, but I haven’t gotten to the third and fourth seasons yet, so this means very little, apart from the fact that I have a general preference for seasons with flashbacks with Miranda and Hamilton in them.

How long have you watched 1? I just watched The Terror for the first time this year, about two months ago. Yeah, I don’t remember what life was like before that either, for many reasons.

How did you become interested in 3? My dear @princess-of-france​ showed me the entire show this past summer and we discussed it episode-by-episode – an absolutely incredible viewing experience.

Who is your favorite actor in 4? Well, we were just talking about the glorious François Arnaud.... I also love Jeremy Irons, though. Both; both are good.

Which do you prefer, 1, 2, or 5? Why is this being done to me? Not Rome, that’s for sure, but I do really like both Black Sails and The Terror. Right now, I’m still so deep in The Terror that it’s hard to deny that it’s my preference, tragically. But I’m getting rapidly more into Black Sails.

Which show have you seen more episodes of, 1 or 3? I’ve seen all of both, but there are more episodes of TURN: Washington’s Spies than there are of The Terror, so TURN it is.

If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be? Oh this is NOT the show I would want to live in out of these five at ALL. Um, to be honest, I kind of adore the absolute moral conviction of Della Rovere. It would be... interesting to see what his journey is like from the inside.

Would a crossover between 3 and 4 work? If one has the ability to time travel, I suppose? A Long Island Yankee in Pope Alexander’s Court?

Pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple? Given the dedication and care that The Terror’s fandom has shown to minor characters and rare pairs, I’m not sure any pairing would feel truly strange to me. I’m partial to some niche couples like Rossier and Goodsir/MacDonald, but those are still stronger than just “strangely okay.” In the spirit of trying to provide a genuinely unlikely pairing, I would say that I basically never EVER consider separating Bridgens and Peglar (our canon couple, the lights of my life) – but I do think that, in some horrible Peglar-less universe, Bridgens and Goodsir could be a good pairing. As it is, I love Bridgens and Goodsir as friends.

Overall, which show has the better storyline, 3 or 5? This isn’t at ALL fair, because TURN got the number of seasons it wanted, and HBO Rome was cut off early, but even without that, TURN is a vastly superior show in my book. It’s TURN, no question.

Which has better theme music, 2 or 4? Wow, this isn’t the kind of thing I typically notice? My instinct is Black Sails over Borgias, but tbh I’d have to go watch a few episodes of both and pay more specific attention to the music. (If TURN was in here, it would win for all the beautiful covers of period-era songs. I have a TURN playlist that’s in regular rotation.)

I honestly have so much fun doing these kind of tag games – thank you, Hal, for the tag!

As for me: @kaserl​ @frauncis​ @endofvanity​ and anyone else who’s interested!

[spockowhales]

Know No Shame

I just finished Black Sails and holy shit I’m in pieces. This is a ficlet I wrote for @pirategf for her bday a while back, before I got into the show, and she’s to thank for getting me into, as she likes to call it, the gay treasure island prequel

When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you are the reason it has become so mangled

-           Caitlyn Siehl

The sun is high and hot over the brown fields of freshly upturned earth and the swaths of green stalks swaying in the warm wind of the tropics. The hands with which they touch their faces are harder, rougher than they were all those years ago in that London house, under that grey and rainy sky. Their faces are harder too, lines of time etched into their skin like wicked treasure maps, brutal histories that will be twisted by others or buried away so that the world can paint them into villains or irrelevant side-notes. They’re harder and older and still beautiful and the world can go fuck itself.

The foreman shouts at them to get to work, so they do. They plough the field side by side while the sun crawls its way west. James cannot stop stealing glances. Thomas is there, barefoot and thinner than before and alive. More than anything, alive.

The day drags on and by the time the dinner bell rings out in the dusk, James’s skin is crawling with the heat of the day and something else entirely. They eat dinner in silence, or what constitutes as silence when there is the chatter of other inmates and the clinking of cutlery echoing around them. They do not speak, what for the lack of privacy and what for the simple lack of words. It is not that there is nothing to say, but quite the opposite. There is so much to say that it cannot possibly be said. All those years, all those words, pressing together until they are their own opposite.

After dinner, Thomas takes his hand and leads him through the hallways. If anyone casts an odd glance their way, they do not notice. They do not care. This is a place where things are hidden from sight and so there is no need to worry about being seen. There is something to be said about being forgotten by the world, James thinks. In a way, it’s oddly liberating. The building smells of scorched earth and lye soap, of simplicity bordering on harshness. Somewhere in the distance, the smell of salty water speaks of waging wars and making choices. In front of him, Thomas still doesn’t speak at all but still the touch of his hand feels like an armistice a decade in the making. A single safe harbour.

They stop at a door in the back of the building. Thomas opens it, pulls James into the room. Once the door is closed and they’re alone in the soft darkness, he turns around.

“My father made sure I was comfortable here”, he says, and those are the first words he speaks to James in ten years.  Apparently, Lord Alfred arranged for a private room when he exiled his son to the ends of the known world. James doesn’t know if it were an attempt at mercy or a wish to keep Thomas isolated. Alfred Hamilton never struck him as a merciful man and Thomas’ words are wry, his mouth twisting in a distortion of a smile, a subtle irony.

“Never say he was anything other than a gentleman”, James replies, bitter words spilling like the dregs at the bottom of a bottle. He sounds harsh even to his own ears, but Thomas just smiles at him, pure and honest.

“Even if we said it, who would believe us?”

No one. They’re not the ones who will be writing history. History will be writing them, or forgetting them. It doesn’t matter now, James decides. History can have him, do with him as it pleases. He only fought for a legacy because he thought the only true thing worth fighting for lost to him.

Not anymore.

When he kisses Thomas, it’s a homecoming. There is a familiarity that he almost forgot, something so very human that he almost lost along the way. Thomas lays his hands at James’ waist and it feels like coming onto solid ground after years at sea. James can feel him smiling into the kiss and even with their eyes closed, it’s blinding.

When they pull apart, they stay close, simply looking. Thomas’ hair is shorter and lighter than James remembers it, bleached by the unforgiving Florida sun. His skin is tanned and the palms of his hands are calloused, but his eyes are the same and James is almost back in that attic flat, with Thomas reading to him, their world so much smaller, so much softer than it is now. He wonders what he looks like to his friend, his lover, his driving force. His love. Suddenly his hands feel bloodied and while he will never regret the war he waged – the war that, in some ways, kept him alive even while threatening his life – he thinks it a shame to smear Thomas with the sins soaked in his skin. Something must show on his face, because Thomas cups his cheek gently, meeting his eyes.

“What is the matter?”

James lets his gaze drift away.

“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it. Though in this case, the cause was grievous enough. Yet the consequences, too, were fitting to the offence. I have not been a good man, Thomas. I have not been what you have envisioned me to be.”

Silence stretches between them and still James cannot lift his eyes. Flint was fearless, but then Flint was the half-living creation with a single purpose. James McGraw is a man, and men fear just as men love.

Thomas looks at him softly for a long time before speaking.

“The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane. I do believe you did just that.”

At that, James finally looks up.

“Some would call me a monster.”

“And some had called us both monsters for far different reasons. That doesn’t make us so. Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth. If we’re quoting Aurelius, I think that particular quote is rather relevant.”

The sounds of the night swirl around them. They are still so close.

“Do you remember”, Thomas says, “what else was written in that book?”

There is a sharp pain in James’ chest, in the place where his heart should be. He closes his eyes, nods his head, and breathes. Thomas brings his other hand up to his face, leaning in.

“James, my love, open your eyes.”

He does. Of course, he does. What else can he do.

“What else was written?” Thomas asks, his face soft. His eyes look like home. James is wrecked and healed and dismantled and put together again.

“Know no shame”, he says. Thomas smiles.

“Know no shame.”

Their next kiss is a re-learning of a lesson and James wonders if maybe Thomas has kept his soul for safe-keeping all these years and now it’s finally returned to him. It should be harder, he thinks, to re-learn a body after so long. Then again, maybe he just got used to having to fight for things because nothing came the easy way, except for pain. As it is, they fall into each other the way light folds into shadow beneath stretched-out sails, with a fluttering ease.

“Do you know how much I love you?” he asks at some point, his breath coming in short gasps, half-declaration, half genuine worry.

“I have always known”, Thomas replies, his cheeks flushed as they move together. “All these years. And all these years, I have loved you back.”

Love, James thinks, is like daylight. And there are no monsters in the daylight.

He never understood the phrase honest sweat but he thinks he might now. With every movement, every slide of bodies it is as if the grime of the world is being washed away, the humid heat of the night and their twined limbs exorcising the demons that he spent so long fighting. The last vestiges of Captain Flint die that night in Thomas Hamilton’s narrow cot and when dawn comes it finds James McGraw sleeping peacefully in his lover’s embrace.

When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. 

-          Caitlyn Siehl

 All the italics are from Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations (the book Thomas gives James)

[trappedinthe18thcentury]

Recap: Black Sails S01E01

(OK, it’s a test. As a writer/journalist I love to write recaps of TV-series on my special ironical way, which bases on a deeper knowledge of my own mother language, Hungarian. It’s like etudes for musicians, little nice pieces to practice. But I want to try it in English too, I want to find my voice, my style. Therefore I’ve chosen a series, which fits in the time period 18th-century, and I know, that it suits also my way of thinking about history and storytelling. So, let the fun begin! ) 

Time and place: 1715, West Indies.  

A merchant ship is attacked by pirates. Everyone is preparing for the fight, except for one man, who is looking suspicious. He just tears a page out of a book and tries to hide under the deck. And then, another guy comes. Dark curly hair (is that a wig?) and bright blue eyes. He smiles like an idiot, thus he looks more suspicious. Very suspicious. He recognizes, that the other one, who is the cook of the ship, hides something. They both mention a certain Captain Flint, probably the leader of the pirates. 

The pirates seized the ship and before the slaughtering goes too far, a guy with green eyes (I can recognize him, he is Toby  Stephens! I know he is in the show) stops: It’s enough. The captain of the defeated crew agrees.

A bit older, bald man, called Mr. Gates (seems to be a nice and reasonable person) finds the guy with the curly hair, who says, his name is John Silver and he happens to be a very good cook. Probably a big lie, because the real cook is lying dead on the floor. Later, as  Silver is accepted as a cook, we can see, that he has the mysterious paper. Obviously, that’s why the real cook had to die. 

But before that, we learn from the dialogue between Mr. Gates and Captain Flint (he the one, who is played by Toby! Toby is the captain!), that this piece of paper is what they’re searching for. But Flint didn’t tell it to the crew, and they are dissatisfied with the prey they found on this ship. And on a few other ships before. That’s why the not-nice-bald-man, Mr. Singleton is angry either. He wants to be a captain. Democracy is on course among the pirates, there will be a vote. Mr. Gates warns Captain Flint, that he has not enough votes. Maybe it would be worth to speak about the purpose of their attack. Even the defeated captain, now bonded to the mast, knows, Flint is unable to keep under control his own crew.  

(Do I hear correctly? Is this a music by  Bear McCreary? Yep. Exactly. It is. ) 

Finally, the ship reaches Nassau (New Providence Island). The sea looks incredibly turquoise. The island is free, not under English command, it belongs to the pirates now. Silver seems to like it. He wants to know more about the paper he has and learns that most of the books are in the captain’s cabin. But he has to wait to find the right one because the members of the crew take him to ‘Blackbeard”, who is a woman, and she wears her “beard” not on her face. Yepp, exactly, Silver is in a brothel. The pirates were very generous with their new colleague, he is now with at least four girls. After the thingy, he is unable to find his precious sheet of paper, because one of the girls (with a strong French accent) took it. She wants a deal, and Silver admits, he has not a clue, what this paper is for. 

Another new place, other new characters, a young blond woman (not a meek and obedient type), the boss of the tavern and her black adviser. Mr. Gates wants money for bribing (? or is it a normal thing here? ) some crewmembers before the big vote. The adviser doesn’t think it’s a good idea, the woman, Miss Eleanor Guthrie, just for spite, gives the required sum. 

Meanwhile Flint and Dickon Tarly, um.. er... sorry... Billy Bones (Tom Hopper) meets the father, Mr. Guthrie, and finally, we learn what is the schedule for. There is a big treasure galleon, the Urca de Lima, which carries gold in the worth of 5 million Spanish Dollars. She doesn't have an escort ship, her route is enciphered in a captain’s log. Finally, we understand why Mr. Gates wanted Billy to go with Flint, he is quite short-tempered, forcing Mr. Gurthrie to collaborate, but then suddenly the captain of the Royal Navy ship Scarborough arrives, and everybody wants to look like a polite lady drinking their five-o-clock tea. The captain isn’t that stupid, he knows, there is something wrong with this scene. Interesting, how he talks about civilization, which based on gossips and rumors and the power of humiliation by them. We don’t know what the end of the scene is, but certainly somebody shot Mr Guthrie. 

Mr. Gates has a meeting with an old black man, who (and his men) is to be paid for the right votes. But here come some other new characters: a tall and skinny guy with weird facial hair, a young woman with a big hat, and someone who eagerly wants to look and sound like a very very badass guy. He is Captain Vane, and even here, in the Bahamas, he definitely seems to spend too much time in the tanning salon. He really looks like his own parody. (He is much more self-parodistic, than Silver.) By the way, the old man is killed, unfortunately. Besides, that killing is a bad, bad thing, this doesn’t look good before the vote.  

Later, Captain Vane arrives in the tavern, happy to see Eleanor. But she punches him in the face, and the man hits back. Well, well, equality means equality in every aspect. Miss Bossy isn’t delighted about the news, that the old man is killed, because it means, that her money is wasted for nothing.  

I have never ever thought before, how terrifying the sentence can sound: civilization is coming. This is the topic of the conversation between Flint and Billy the next morning. Also, Mr. Guthrie is with them, but we can’t learn his opinion about the topic, because he is just lying unconscious. (But he is probably not dead.) 

And here we go, this is the moment of the vote. Flint is holding a speech about the schedule. He talks a lot, but I guess, he is not entirely honest with the crew. Well, he is definitely lying to the crew about the schedule is stolen by Singleton. There will be a duel, which doesn’t sound good because Singleton looks not just taller but much stronger. But Flint is really obsessed with his captainship and the schedule and beats the shit out of his rival.

YOLOE, Mr. Singleton (you live only one episode), you weren’t the real villain. But who then? Flint? Well, he looks really terrifying. After the fight, Billy confirms his lie, he tells the crew that the empty paper given to him by Flint isn’t empty, this is the schedule. 

 Silver doesn’t know to laugh or to cry. Maybe it wasn’t that great idea to steal that paper. Meanwhile, in the brothel, the French girl meets the tall, skinny man and offers him something she doesn’t mention. The schedule, probably.   

[feathersandblue]

Existentialism, John Silver style

I think part of the reason why I can relate so strongly to Silver’s decision in the finale is that at the core of my convictions, I’ve always seen existentialism as fundamentally true.

The idea of being condemned to freedom (as a lack of superordinate morality and purpose), to an existence that does not have an inherent meaning but gains its meaning only through personal actions - an existence where the inidivdual and their choices are not good or evil but only true or not true to their own inner conviction - is reflected exceptionally well in Silver’s arc in Black Sails. It’s made explicit when Silver himself refuses to attach meaning to the events of his past in 4.09, where he outright denies the existence of a storyteller. Due to that lack (and rejection) of a “higher” purpose, Silver becomes one of two (arguably three) characters in Black Sails to choose his own fate through an act of personal sacrifice. 

I’ve seen a piece of meta very recently that basically said that Silver had no right to act the way he did because he was taking choices away from Madi (and the maroons). That way of thinking is deeply foreign to me, because existentialism is all about individual choices. The characters in Black Sails have always been strongest when they were taking responsibility for their own actions - when they were acting true to their own nature. 

If going along with Madi’s and Flint’ war went against the things Silver truly believed in, should he have done it only for her and Flint’s sake? That might have been more loyal on a surface level, but it would have required of him to act against his own convictions.

Besides, none of the main characters have ever worried all that much about taking choices away from anyone, not, at least, when it came to politics. Flint, Silver, Vane and Billy didn’t show any kind of hesitation to undermine the governor’s position by threatening and intimidating every pirate who had taken the pardon. And Madi was also willing to go to great lengths to make that war happen, even in opposition to Julius, who had valid reasons to oppose it. I think it’s only fair to add that Madi had also selfish reasons to want that war - as a young woman, stepping out of the shadow of her parents, trying to establish herself as a leader to her people, in opposition to the more protectionist rule of her mother. That war was her personal quest, her coming of age.

In any case, all throughout the series, the parties who wanted the war didn’t much care about other people’s opposition. And war is what they got until Jack, Max, and Silver pulled a page from their book and put a stop to it. 

Do we believe for a second that Madi would have left the war behind for Silver? Of course not, and we woulnd’t expect her to, because she was deeply convinced that the war was a righteous cause.

Then why do we expect Silver to go along with the war for her sake, even though he truly believed it was the wrong thing to do? THERE IS NO MORAL HIGH GROUND. Black Sails has shown us both the noble sheen of a war for freedom and the horrible price people have to pay for it. The whole tragedy of the ending is that we have two people who deeply love and respect each other, but whose belief systems don’t work the same way. 

The strongest existentialist struggles are always found where people claim their own freedom, where they make difficult choices not according to what other people believe, but to their own values. Where they take a stand. 

Of course, this existentialist freedom only exists where people are actually free to decide -, only then can it be acknowledged and claimed, and only in that moment, people actually are free. Free to be bound by nothing but their own conscience - free to fight an inner battle when the outer circumstances allow for that kind of luxury. Mrs Hudson is not free to make a choice based on her inner convistion because she’s bound by her love and responsibility for her children. Likewise, Vane, the character for whom freedom is the first and foremost priority, avoids every kind of attachment to material goods, any commitment that would bind him, knowing they are civilization’s greatest weapon. When Vane chooses his death, that's an existentialist choice right from the textbook - while the decision to hang him is Eleanor’s, he chooses the terms and the meaning of his execution, and ultimately, he chooses to die because his death will be a catalyst for a revolution. That’s not the same as, say, someone committing suicide to escape neverending horrors. Choosing the lesser of two evils, forced by the circumstances, is not freedom. The truly existentialist choice is the one you make willingly, the one not dicatetd to you by others.

The interesting thing about Silver is that he has that feedom on a very basic level right in the beginning - as a drifter, committed to no one - but then he gives it up, or rather, loses it in a variety of ways. And when he decides to put an end to the war, that’s both reflective of who he truly is - a pragmatist, a survivor, a man who does not understand the idealism that drives Flint and Madi - and what he truly believes. That’s what makes his decision so important. He’s not a hero, he’s not a villain, but maybe for the first time, he is authentic. And his act is more tragic and, in a way, even heroic, because it requires him to betray the two people closest to him and condemn himself to a life that lacks all its glory. 

Comparing Siver’s situation with Max’ decision to prioritize her relationship with Anne over a position of power makes it obvious how much more difficult Silver’s decision is. Max makes a simple choice, one that requires a personal sacrifice - giving up power - but allows her to act in accordance with her truest believes. What she doesn’t do is betray her loved ones on a personal level, quite the opppsite; it’s her way to make up for an earlier betrayal. There is quite an allure in self-sacrifice, if it means you can go on knowing you have the moral high ground. Max does it, and the narrative rewards her for it, telling the audience, quite clearly: “You chose love over power, and it was the right choice.” The narrative favors Max to an almost incredible degree. Max gets to be governor. Max also gets Anne’s forgiveness.

But it’s not Max’ personal sacrifice that makes it happen, it’s Silver’s.

Silver, by acting in accordance with his truest believes, gives up everything he’s won. He doesn’t get the fame. He doesn’t get the captaincy. He doesn’t get the treasure. He has irreparably damaged every meaningful relationship he has ever had, and what is his gain?

I can’t emphasize this enough: it would have been a lot easier for Silver to go along with what Madi and Flint wanted. If Silver had only been interested in his own, short-lived gain and gratification, if he hadn’t felt active disgust at the person he was becoming - the person who killed and tortured and betrayed his friends and orchestrated the death of people under his protection for the greater cause - then he would not have acted against them. What he did was not the action of a person who chose the path of least resistance. It was the action of a man who found the strength and conviction to make a choice. It was the action of a man who no longer wanted to do bad things in the name of a good cause. 

Did he have the right to make that choice? That’s a moot question, because under these existentialist terms, having the power means having that right. Silver was in a position to end the war, and that’s what he did.

What Silver is, in that moment, is the master of his fate, and there’s really no bigger accomplishment in terms of existentialism. 

Robert Louis Stevenson based his character of Long John Silver on William Ernest Henley, who is most famous for his poem “Invictus”, which may be the epitome of the kind of freedom at the core of existentialism : 

It matters not how strait the gate

how charged with punishments the scroll

I am the master of my fate

I am the captain of my soul.

That’s what Silver is doing, in this final episode. Instead of letting others decide for him - instead of blindly following Madi and Flint into a war which, in Silver’s understanding, is the horror - he uses all the means at his disposal to help Max and Jack to put a stop to it, and he does it without further bloodshed. It is only Silver who is in a position to achieve this ending. It is only Silver, with his cunning and his inventiveness, who can be Flint’s end without killing him. 

I have no understanding for people who are trying so very hard to deny the difficulty of Silver’s choice, and what it cost him, and what it means for him in terms of character development, who are completely willing to throw him under the bus and deny that his feelings and respect for Madi were ever real, or that his decision to send Flint to Savannah instead of killing him was not an act of love and mercy on his part. 

[silverlovesmadi]

Black Sails s4 ep9: Last scene, Madi's state of mind and parallels

What is that feeling called when different senses of your brain are being stimulated at the same time? At the end of this episode you’re are left with so many different and conflicting feelings and conclusions. But one thing is for sure: how depressing and heartbreaking it was. For one: In the last scene you see Silver, Flint and Hands gazing upon the utter distruction in front of them. They were unprepared for it, blind too it (Hands wasn’t obviously, always the very neccesary voice of reason), because their inside turmoil was to great. And so again, Billy proves he was right and he wins. Rogers wins too, since his entire purpose of being has become his dedication to the complete distruction of all high seas piracy. What are we to take from this as an audience watching this from the comfort of our 2017 homes? How senseless and stupid ALL of it is? That the times they lived in only warrented tragedy? The only choice of “true” freedom being piracy for so many men (and women)? Former slaves included. Now, like I’ve been saying week after week, am I surprised of this outcome? Of course not. It was more of a “brace yourself, because YOU know what’s coming.” Sadly, our main characters didn’t. Sidenote: To see Billy spare Ben Gunn was so poetic in the sense that if he didn’t had freed Billy, the distruction of the Walrus and the massacre of the Walrus crew wouldn’t even have happened. This entire mess is Flint digging his own grave, if he could’ve mustered to work together for once in his life, to care about the concept of friendship the same way Silver does, to be an empathic being, they could’ve been prepared for this assault, but again we all know Flint, Billy knows Flint and here we are. I personally don’t care much for the pirate cause, because of it’s toxic hypermasculine nature, but damned did all those men die for nothing.

Everything what Madi said to Rogers was in true Madi likeness. To hear her confront Eleanor of her hypocrisy in episode 6 was already incredibally satifying, but to hear her confront Rogers on his bullshit, you could tell he is not used to a Black woman defying him like that. I truly wonder what Madi used out of that book Rogers wrote about himself. Because she was fighting her damnedest to maintain her composure, her eyes were watery, her face evoking so much emotion and turmoil. Meaning not all of her words corresponded with her true thoughts. She doesn’t know anything about what has transpired between Silver and Flint since being captured in Nassau, she has no clue. She’s never had the chance to have a good conversation with a man like Julius, who could possibly be a father figure. As “badass” as her speech was, because truely what Black woman wouldn’t want to give a colonial sociopathic dipshit like Rogers her piece of mind, Madi is acting from what she believes to be the most selfless way to act. However scared she may be and fighting not to show that fear, she believes that to choose her own personal and individual desires (Silver) over a chance to fight for a free world for her people would be the most selfish thing she could ever do. And “It goes against everything she understands herself to be.” She’s at an impasse, a dilemma, the same place her mother was when Madi knew she wasn’t able to lead their men through the first battle with the British Navy. She refuses that deal because she holy believes it to be the most selfless and self sacrifing choice to make. She is in it, part of it, not on the outside like us, the audience, so her mind isn’t clear. She’s deciding FOR her people, not WITH. Her word is law, because before her it was decided that the Maroon community would not be a democracy. She was prepared for this role since she was a child, saw her people’s constant fear growing up and growing up in freedom herself, albeit isolated and hiding from the still existing threat, allowed her to form her current ideology. It’s a horrible and tragic place to be honestly, to finally have such a chance to give your people that freedom they so desperatelly seem to want and to have to contemplate giving it all up to make a deal with the devil were in you have to aid them in maintaining said threat that has caused all these years of intense hatred and anger against the powers purpetrating it in the first place. To be in a place where she can continue her fathers legacy who can not have died for nothing. To, with her own eyes, see the enslaved on the Plantations being brutalized and to not do anything about it. To live in freedom, to enjoy freedom, but see people who look just like you not have the same thing. To not want to disappoint anyone, betray anyone and want to save everyone all at the same time. What a mental hell, which she’s able to hide very well. But it’s easier for her to want this because she was born free. Her people, who still live in fear, would far likely take that deal, despite the fact it would mean that they would have to help the BE recapture escaped slaves. On the outside Madi seems to be a radical when it comes to her cause, someone who chooses idealism over realism, but what truely goes on inside of her head we do not know, because she does not allow us to see it, so we can only go of on body language. Either way, whatever she chooses, it will be a damned if you do, damned if you don’t type of situation. She knows it, so she’d rather choose martyrdom, then to choose to become a villain against the thing she’s been prepared to fight for her entire life. Despite the fact that choosing Rogers’ deal would allow her people and Julians people to live another day. They would rather choose fear over war. All those decisions to contemplate trusted upon so young a person. It’s a horrible tragedy to be in such a position in the first place and for that reason alone very diffult to watch. My heart breaks for her.

I don’t have to point out the very obvious difference between Madi and Flint nature and motives here, that’s why it really annoyed me to hear her speak of Flint the way she did. As if he deserved to be spoken of as such, while at that very moment he was betraying her very cause. His war will NEVER be the same as hers. Weeks ago I commented on somebody’s analysis about episode 5, wondering if Madi knew about Flint’s true motives, so I loved seeing the Madi x Silver flashback in which this was confirmed. He can not lie to her, keep things from her, that absolute trust between them is so important. A true tether moment. But she ended up working with Flint more closely anyway because, while Silver was missing, he convinced her that he wanted the same thing. Silver didn’t know about this, in the same way Billy didn’t know about Silver and Flint’s budding friendship in his absence. So, with that missing information and context, he panics and responds with a “Jesus, you sound just like him.”

I wonder, does Madi still believe this about Flint or is she willing herself to believe it like Silver has all this time, because admitting to yourself that your judgement was wrong, that you let yourself be pursuaded because you wanted it to be true so badly, is so much harder?

Special note: I personally loooved the flashback scenes between Silver and Flint, the in depth dialogue, the tranquility in and the length of the scenes, THE SWORD FIGHTING, Silver’s very apparent vulnerability and evasiveness, constantly struggling to talk about his past, like there is a deep sense of shame, like he truly believes it to be nothing, mean nothing compared to Flint’s story. I’m okay with that, he wants his present to be his origin story. It could also be that he instinctively didn’t trust Flint with that type of vulnerability, but didn’t realize it at that moment. We’ll see if he reveals it or not next episode. Only one episode left, so many loose eeeeends still, my God! How are they gonna do that in a consistent, clean and satisfying way? I hope the series finale is a hour and a half, because they have A LOT of ground to cover *laughs nervously*.

[flordefandom]

flintbysilver replied to your post “#the time will come in s4 #when it's silver time to say #you're a...”

hahahah ohh I love good tags. ;) but yesss exactly, they have made sure to parallel everything else so beautifully already. ALSO, how in the first(?) S4 teaser/trailer there's the voiceover that talks a LOT about GOOD MEN...sort of like, yes remember? THIS is one of our themes as well. (and, how only a fool ignores a pattern... ahhh there are SO many and they're all very very carefully thought out on this one. UGH PLEASE @SHOW... (I hit the character limit oops :S)

If there’s something I love about this fandom are the tags. Like practically every gifset post has their own set of tags with clever analysis, talking about their hotness, how they want to each other or THE FEELS TM.

Also YES

I’ve been rewatching all three seasons several times this past weeks (in my favour I have to say that there’s a channel here doing 24/7 Black Sails marathon it’s not that i’m that obssesed, I kinda am but still) and OMG THE THEMES OF THE SHOW

Shame: S1 Miranda saying to the pastor that if he had met Thomas he would have stripped him of his shame, S2 “They told you to be ashamed for having loved him and part of you believed it” “the only thing I’m ashamed of is not saving him when we had the chance” S3 Miranda saying first of all I was mother by stripping you of your shame and letting Ct. Flint been born into this world

Peace: S1 Odysseus walked in land to a place where oars would be mistaken by showels and that’s where he met peace S2 I always intended for the name Flint to be temporary “I want to make a home with you if you’ll have me” S3 I wonder if the most elated thing I can do it’s let it be

Darkness: S2 Henessey to James McGraw in the bar “You have this thing inside you that all men have and yours is bigger and I don’t know if you know their limits” S3 like all of it “how good it feels” “i was not ready for him/the people who descend into his darkness had not made it out” “I don’t know if this was a warning or a welcome”

Betrayal vs love: S1 Miranda writing the letter with the word betrayal bc there’s no love here. Eleanor asking Silver to convince to forgive Vane’s crew when it felt like a betrayal to Max. Scott betraying Eleanor bc he cares too much about her S2 Eleanor betraying Vane to get Abigail. Jack betraying Anne to get his captainship. Silver betraying Flint to get a bigger share of the gold. JAMES “BETRAYING” THOMAS BY HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH MIRANDA S3 Max betraying Anne to keep ‘that fucking chair’. Eleanor talking about Rogers about how she won’t betray him lol

THE POWER OF STORIES: S1 “Let me tell you a story about a man named Vázquez” ahjahishgfdjgfh that was the FUCKING beginning S2 “The power of the storytelling is all his” he’s Ct. Flint match what will he do when he discovers that power, when those two speak with one voice everyone follows, Silver conivincing the crew again and again. Abigail talking about his father’s pirate stories S3 again fucking everything of it, Silver convincing Flint saying that he can talk to anyone “he had me there”

And going back to what you said

GOOD MEN AND VILLAINS/MONSTERS: S1 They dared to label me a monster bc they wouldn’t let us to our happiness  it ends when i grant them my forgiveness. S2: You’re a good man and someone should defend it, it must be awful being you. To them we’re all the same, they can tell the difference between me and you. What about YOUR sins, you bought this place with our misery. Lets reminds us that we were right to be afraid of us. Maybe the mosnters have their own monsters (Abigail words) S3 He conjured the sotrm and he doesn’t want any witness left for his darkness. I know the allure of not having people thinking you’re the villain you think you are. “In Nassau we’re all villains don’t think just because you’re new you’re different.” S4 The hand talking about GOOD MEN

As you see this show is fucking excellent at keeping it themes running and about telling us ahead of time about plot points.

Like Mr. Scott being the king. S1 Hornigold “I need to know your secret”, S2 Flint “Nobody knew there was one man behind both thrones” S3 Oh there’s a king who the fuck may that be no idea no literally I had no idea I noticed on rewatch that they were fucking tell us all along

Oh like how obvious the Thomas/James thing was after we realized oh yeah they had the balls, they went there. “He’d agree with me if he was here!” “Why that book!” hhehe that fucking finger at the start of the ep

This fucking shows does such a well work with keeping it themes and parallels and foreshadowing running. And that trailer was like, yeah they’re all villains but remember that this (Rogers) is the biggest asshole out there

Silver coming closer and closer to Flint. HE HAS TO SAY IT!!!

Which also makes the “when this pattern applies itself to me and you, I’m afraid I’ll be the end of you” all the more sadder

and this is like the hurried word womit glimpse of all the clever things this show has bc oh god i’m gonna keymash again at any moment but omg i’ll just post this or i’ll never finish this reply

hehehe good this doesn’t have character limit

[readbookywooks]

WE rode hard all the way till we drew up before Dr. Livesey's door. The house was all dark to the front. Mr. Dance told me to jump down and knock, and Dogger gave me a stirrup to descend by. The door was opened almost at once by the maid. "Is Dr. Livesey in?" I asked. No, she said, he had come home in the afternoon but had gone up to the hall to dine and pass the evening with the squire. "So there we go, boys," said Mr. Dance. This time, as the distance was short, I did not mount, but ran with Dogger's stirrup-leather to the lodge gates and up the long, leafless, moonlit avenue to where the white line of the hall buildings looked on either hand on great old gardens. Here Mr. Dance dismounted, and taking me along with him, was admitted at a word into the house. The servant led us down a matted passage and showed us at the end into a great library, all lined with bookcases and busts upon the top of them, where the squire and Dr. Livesey sat, pipe in hand, on either side of a bright fire. I had never seen the squire so near at hand. He was a tall man, over six feet high, and broad in proportion, and he had a bluff, rough-and-ready face, all roughened and reddened and lined in his long travels. His eyebrows were very black, and moved readily, and this gave him a look of some temper, not bad, you would say, but quick and high. "Come in, Mr. Dance," says he, very stately and condescending. "Good evening, Dance," says the doctor with a nod. "And good evening to you, friend Jim. What good wind brings you here?" The supervisor stood up straight and stiff and told his story like a lesson; and you should have seen how the two gentlemen leaned forward and looked at each other, and forgot to smoke in their surprise and interest. When they heard how my mother went back to the inn, Dr. Livesey fairly slapped his thigh, and the squire cried "Bravo!" and broke his long pipe against the grate. Long before it was done, Mr. Trelawney (that, you will remember, was the squire's name) had got up from his seat and was striding about the room, and the doctor, as if to hear the better, had taken off his powdered wig and sat there looking very strange indeed with his own close-cropped black poll." At last Mr. Dance finished the story. "Mr. Dance," said the squire, "you are a very noble fellow. And as for riding down that black, atrocious miscreant, I regard it as an act of virtue, sir, like stamping on a cockroach. This lad Hawkins is a trump, I perceive. Hawkins, will you ring that bell? Mr. Dance must have some ale." "And so, Jim," said the doctor, "you have the thing that they were after, have you?" "Here it is, sir," said I, and gave him the oilskin packet. The doctor looked it all over, as if his fingers were itching to open it; but instead of doing that, he put it quietly in the pocket of his coat. "Squire," said he, "when Dance has had his ale he must, of course, be off on his Majesty's service; but I mean to keep Jim Hawkins here to sleep at my house, and with your permission, I propose we should have up the cold pie and let him sup." "As you will, Livesey," said the squire; "Hawkins has earned better than cold pie." So a big pigeon pie was brought in and put on a sidetable, and I made a hearty supper, for I was as hungry as a hawk, while Mr. Dance was further complimented and at last dismissed. "And now, squire," said the doctor. "And now, Livesey," said the squire in the same breath. "One at a time, one at a time," laughed Dr. Livesey. "You have heard of this Flint, I suppose?" "Heard of him!" cried the squire. "Heard of him, you say! He was the bloodthirstiest buccaneer that sailed. Blackbeard was a child to Flint. The Spaniards were so prodigiously afraid of him that, I tell you, sir, I was sometimes proud he was an Englishman. I've seen his top-sails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with put back - put back, sir, into Port of Spain." "Well, I've heard of him myself, in England," said the doctor. "But the point is, had he money?" "Money!" cried the squire. "Have you heard the story? What were these villains after but money? What do they care for but money? For what would they risk their rascal carcasses but money?" "That we shall soon know," replied the doctor. "But you are so confoundedly hot-headed and exclamatory that I cannot get a word in. What I want to know is this: Supposing that I have here in my pocket some clue to where Flint buried his treasure, will that treasure amount to much?" "Amount, sir!" cried the squire. "It will amount to this: If we have the clue you talk about, I fit out a ship in Bristol dock, and take you and Hawkins here along, and I'll have that treasure if I search a year." "Very well," said the doctor. "Now, then, if Jim is agreeable, we'll open the packet"; and he laid it before him on the table. The bundle was sewn together, and the doctor had to get out his instrument case and cut the stitches with his medical scissors. It contained two things - a book and a sealed paper. "First of all we'll try the book," observed the doctor. The squire and I were both peering over his shoulder as he opened it, for Dr. Livesey had kindly motioned me to come round from the side-table, where I had been eating, to enjoy the sport of the search. On the first page there were only some scraps of writing, such as a man with a pen in his hand might make for idleness or practice. One was the same as the tattoo mark, "Billy Bones his fancy"; then there was "Mr. W. Bones, mate," "No more rum," "Off Palm Key he got itt," and some other snatches, mostly single words and unintelligible. I could not help wondering who it was that had "got itt," and what "itt" was that he got. A knife in his back as like as not. "Not much instruction there," said Dr. Livesey as he passed on. The next ten or twelve pages were filled with a curious series of entries. There was a date at one end of the line and at the other a sum of money, as in common account-books, but instead of explanatory writing, only a varying number of crosses between the two. On the 12th of June, 1745, for instance, a sum of seventy pounds had plainly become due to someone, and there was nothing but six crosses to explain the cause. In a few cases, to be sure, the name of a place would be added, as "Offe Caraccas," or a mere entry of latitude and longitude, as "62o 17' 20", 19o 2' 40"." The record lasted over nearly twenty years, the amount of the separate entries growing larger as time went on, and at the end a grand total had been made out after five or six wrong additions, and these words appended, "Bones, his pile." "I can't make head or tail of this," said Dr. Livesey. "The thing is as clear as noonday," cried the squire. "This is the black-hearted hound's account-book. These crosses stand for the names of ships or towns that they sank or plundered. The sums are the scoundrel's share, and where he feared an ambiguity, you see he added something clearer. 'Offe Caraccas,' now; you see, here was some unhappy vessel boarded off that coast. God help the poor souls that manned her - coral long ago." "Right!" said the doctor. "See what it is to be a traveller. Right! And the amounts increase, you see, as he rose in rank." There was little else in the volume but a few bearings of places noted in the blank leaves towards the end and a table for reducing French, English, and Spanish moneys to a common value. "Thrifty man!" cried the doctor. "He wasn't the one to be cheated." "And now," said the squire, "for the other." The paper had been sealed in several places with a thimble by way of seal; the very thimble, perhaps, that I had found in the captain's pocket. The doctor opened the seals with great care, and there fell out the map of an island, with latitude and longitude, soundings, names of hills and bays and inlets, and every particular that would be needed to bring a ship to a safe anchorage upon its shores. It was about nine miles long and five across, shaped, you might say, like a fat dragon standing up, and had two fine land-locked harbours, and a hill in the centre part marked "The Spy-glass." There were several additions of a later date, but above all, three crosses of red ink - two on the north part of the island, one in the southwest - and beside this last, in the same red ink, and in a small, neat hand, very different from the captain's tottery characters, these words: "Bulk of treasure here." Over on the back the same hand had written this further information: Tall tree, Spy-glass shoulder, bearing a point to the N. of N.N.E. Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E. Ten feet. The bar silver is in the north cache; you can find it by the trend of the east hummock, ten fathoms south of the black crag with the face on it. The arms are easy found, in the sand-hill, N. point of north inlet cape, bearing E. and a quarter N. J.F. That was all; but brief as it was, and to me incomprehensible, it filled the squire and Dr. Livesey with delight. "Livesey," said the squire, "you will give up this wretched practice at once. Tomorrow I start for Bristol. In three weeks' time - three weeks! - two weeks - ten days - we'll have the best ship, sir, and the choicest crew in England. Hawkins shall come as cabinboy. You'll make a famous cabin-boy, Hawkins. You, Livesey, are ship's doctor; I am admiral. We'll take Redruth, Joyce, and Hunter. We'll have favourable winds, a quick passage, and not the least difficulty in finding the spot, and money to eat, to roll in, to play duck and drake with ever after." "Trelawney," said the doctor, "I'll go with you; and I'll go bail for it, so will Jim, and be a credit to the undertaking. There's only one man I'm afraid of." "And who's that?" cried the squire. "Name the dog, sir!" "You," replied the doctor; "for you cannot hold your tongue. We are not the only men who know of this paper. These fellows who attacked the inn tonight-bold, desperate blades, for sure - and the rest who stayed aboard that lugger, and more, I dare say, not far off, are, one and all, through thick and thin, bound that they'll get that money. We must none of us go alone till we get to sea. Jim and I shall stick together in the meanwhile; you'll take Joyce and Hunter when you ride to Bristol, and from first to last, not one of us must breathe a word of what we've found." "Livesey," returned the squire, "you are always in the right of it. I'll be as silent as the grave."

[stilljumpingback]

(via Black Sails Episode 403 - XXXI)

WELL-FORMED THOUGHTS

I love this show for refusing to allow viewers to make monsters out of any of our characters, despite HOW MUCH I want to villainize Berringer.  First we get him looking at pictures of his wife and child, and honestly, that doesn’t move me.  He could be reunited with them if he wanted.  He’s only stayed in Nassau to pursue a course of revenge, committing treason even to do so.

What DOES bother me is his speech about dark men doing dark deeds, and how easily I can imagine the same words coming from Flint’s mouth.

“You’ve given me good men to lead.  I’ll do my best by them.” “There isn’t a good man among them.  Not anymore.  Some of them may have been, before all this.  Some of them may be again on the other side of it.  But right now, good men are not what the moment requires.  Right now, the time calls for dark men to do dark things.  Do not be afraid to lead them to it.”

When Flint uses theater and leads his men into horrific atrocities, I support him because I support his end goal – overturning a corrupt empire and establishing a free world.  But when Berringer uses theater and leads HIS men into horrific atrocities, I am livid.  Granted, this is because he’s supporting that corrupt empire.  And in some ways, the ends definitely do justify the means.  But if we look beneath their political worldviews, in actuality they keep fighting because the world keeps fighting them.  It’s the cycle of vengeance I’ve been talking about.  The truth is, I support Flint because I like him, because I’m invested in his story.  If we’d had three seasons of Berringer’s story, would I emotionally support him in this moment?  Probably.

I do think the show wants us to support Flint, and I do think that Flint’s motivations are deepening beyond revenge to a more genuine desire to create something new.  BUT it is unquestionable that the showrunners want us to remember the power of narrative in shaping our allegiances, and to question why we see some people as good and others as bad, when really, they might not be so different.

FRAGMENTED THOUGHTS

Berringer basically tells Woodes Rogers that darkness is inevitable, and we shouldn’t be afraid to use it.  It is SO hard not to think Flint would agree with him.

Mrs. Hudson asks to go home after they’re done in Philadelphia.  Eleanor says yes and they’re both super happy before IMMEDIATELY finding out they aren’t going to Philadelphia.  This is about how everyone’s happiness goes in this show, huh?

Max is losing her power, exemplified by how men can burst into her room while she’s lounging naked in bed.

Maroon:  Whatever slaves are still alive on this island will never fight alongside a pirate again.  Not after last night. Madi:  Last night, there were also pirates who fought alongside us, against terrible odds and at great cost.  Billy and his men are our enemies now, but these men are not.

#TriumverateWatch:  Madi defends Flint!!  And as if the show doesn’t realize that my heart has already burst, the two proceed to have an inspiring conversation as equals and I loooooove them!!!

Madi:  You truly believe it is possible?  That as disadvantaged and disabled as we are, that anything we do here is going to make the least bit of difference to the men in London? Flint:  Well, that’s the trick, isn’t it?  If no one remembers a time before there was an England, then no one can imagine a time after it.  The empire survives in part because we believe its survival to be inevitable.  But it isn’t, and they know that.  That’s why they’re so terrified of you and I.  If we are able to take Nassau, if we are able to expose the illusion that England is not inevitable, if we are able to incite a revolt that spreads across the New World then, yeah, I imagine people are gonna notice. Madi:  “Too much sanity may be madness, and the maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be.”

Madi just used Don Quixote to describe Flint, AND THAT IS THE BOOK MIRANDA USED TO DESCRIBE THOMAS, byyyyyyye.

It is impossible to be reminded of the amazing partnership between James and Thomas and not see Flint and Madi having equally amazing potential.

Poor Anne.  She just wants to get away from all of this and have a boring life, but she’s chosen to partner herself to a man who can’t stop following giants in hopes of influencing them and thus feeling meaningful.

I love Idelle being the level-headed one to Featherstone’s panic.  She trusts in Max’s loyalty and stubbornness before saying they have to help her from the outside.  Eleanor then bursts in to help Max – are we to assume that Idelle told Eleanor what was going on?

THAT REUNION THOUGH.  Silver is about to die, but Flint comes to the rescue!!  There is so much contained emotion going on in these two men, and I can’t even.

Jack has to watch Teach and Anne lead the vanguard onto a spookily “empty” ship.  Why did no one notice that everyone hid themselves?  I’m so upset about everything here, I hate it, stop please.

Max:  You think you can control him.  And by the time you realize he has been controlling you, it is going to be too late.

Max is talking to Eleanor about Berringer, but it’s hard not to imagine she’s also talking about Woodes Rogers.

We know Eleanor is cultured now, because she says, “I beg your pardon, but what the fuck have you got to lose?”

THAT OTHER REUNION THOUGH.  Silver and Madi running to each other, kissing, staring into each other’s eyes!!

Flint is happy for them, but there’s a definite flicker of sadness in his expression.  Whether he’s sad because he loves Silver or because he wishes he had someone like they have each other, I honestly don’t care.  It’s compelling either way!

Eleanor now agrees with Max that the theater of power only exacerbates problems.  I like this questioning whether power exists to uphold order or to boost someone’s ego.

Berringer’s power play of reading the black spot aloud is actually VERY good, and I love how he becomes an interesting villain just before dying.  Because he’s too obvious.  The REAL villain is revealed in this episode to be:  Nice Guy Rogers.

Reader, I HATE HIM.

In flashback, he reveals his dark side to Berringer, telling the story he didn’t share in his book because he didn’t want the world to know what he is capable of.

The real evil here is not what he did in the past, because as despicable as it is, I can forgive a lot that is done in grief (see: my enduring love of James Flint).  What is horrible is that he is committed, rationally, a day before it happens, to doing the exact same thing to Teach and his crew, simply to prove a point.  I HATE HIM.

An admission:  I’ve never actually watched the keelhauling.  The first time I saw this episode, Rogers’ creepy voiceover and the music cued me in that something truly horrible was about to go down, so I Googled what happened to Teach and promptly skipped ahead.  Having listened to other people’s reactions to the scene, I’m super glad I did, and so I did the same again.  I’m so glad Teach stuck it to Rogers by refusing to die, but I do not need to let those images exist in my brain, thanks ever so much.

Berringer refuses to use Eleanor as an ally.  He ignores her suggestion to ambush Silver, thus ensuring his own death!!  What an idiot!

But also thank God.

BECAUSE HERE COME SILVER AND FLINT.  I love the look Flint gives Silver when the guns come out.  This is Silver’s first time fighting on the front line, and as a target, and Flint is concerned.

They seem alone in a small group, but suddenly slaves and maroons and pirates join them!  And there’s a fight!  And soldiers appear on the roofs but they are killed by Billy’s men!  I temporarily forgive Billy, but I’m glad Flint gives him a look during the battle because this isn’t over yet!!

Israel Hands takes out Berringer, which is fitting because he doesn’t deserve a death by one of our heroes.  What purpose does Hands’ long look at Silver/Flint serve?  Is it like, look at me, see my value?

Our last shot is of Berringer’s wife and child, and while I don’t have empathy for HIM, I do for those two.  It’s a good reminder that in all the passion and righteous anger that creates and perpetuates violence, the real victims are civilians.  But…I don’t want the fighting to stop until Flint and Madi’s vision of a free Nassau is realized.