#how historians cope

[fondcrimes]

the "labru chapter" is the kabru chapter

this is a dungeon meshi love manifesto, but not in the way you think. sorry not sorry for the labrubait

what makes chapter 76 so amazing is kabru’s desperation has little to do with laios specifically. it’s not just about kabru being obsessed with laios and making sure he doesn't cause tragedy, either. I think this chapter emphasizes kabru's struggle with the concept of love and companionship. the point of this chapter is that every critical part of kabru collides at once and renders him useless.

(disclaimer: this post includes a lot of projection/speculation but it's to understand kabru's character arc i promise. for clearer analysis and examination of how kabru's ideologies are constructed, check out this really great post)

kabru is a lone visionary

in ch 76, kabru’s threatened by lycion exposing his true intentions to laios not only bc he wants to prevent laios from joining marcille in her destruction, but also bc laios is also from a short-lived race and kabru needs an ally in his power struggle against elves (esp when the chips are down)

but has kabru really accepted his need for allies in his plight? kabru has spent his adult life suppressing a human urge to connect meaningfully with others. he even keeps rinsha et al. at arm's length in the name of achieving his masculine hero complex/survivor's guilt goals. he's already quite disillusioned bc most adventurers don't have the same goal as he does. so he uses people and gets on their good side for systematic support. he’s well-intentioned and takes care of his party. but the idea that an ally could also protect HIM and make HIM feel safe as well doesn’t really register with him until later on in the narrative bc camaraderie and allyship, at its core, is about acknowledging intimacy. kabru struggles with intimacy sub-textually (his self-neglect and social insincerity) even though he knows how to simulate it to gain others' trust.

but he can’t crack laios, he can’t get him to listen. for lack of a better word, kabru is spoiled by the fruits of his superb perception and emotional intelligence. he also doesn’t cope well with failure (bc his goal is too valuable to ~not~ devote himself to) he puts too much value in conquering laios and when he thinks he's failed, he basically crashes out. the real problem is he still doesn’t understand his true feelings--not feelings for laios, but the root of his desire. the root of his goals and the endless search for companionship.

kabru is a strategic historian

at his core, kabru is a storyteller. he tells himself a variety of stories about his trauma and his goals, which serve as motivation and to some extent, self-protection (as shown in his conversation w mithrun). he deeply understands the role of storytelling in regards to the construction of history and drastic shifts in power.

as an utayan, he understands that the tragedy that overcame his people was not random, but resulted from elven negligence of a disenfranchised people. it is imperative for kabru to cement himself as a voice for otherwise voiceless people. in his story, he has no choice but to handle the hero, if not become the hero himself.

kabru even has a story about his pursuit of laios, mainly that laios is currently the most capable person of defeating the mage and that he must do whatever it takes to ensure laios doesn’t fuck it up. his instincts are right, sure, but at first, he places special value in laios’ capabilities that almost seems unearned… like yes he’s studied the island adventurers with frightening expertise, so it makes sense he would have a good idea about who is the most equipped to succeed. but his early suspicions of the toudens seems to complicate my perception of his knowledge by adding emotional depth and a layer of tinhattery so to speak.

canonically, kabru has been rebuffed by laios multiple times (which is so... lolll) when he's talking with his party, kabru hides behind the excuse of dungeon but he’s been trying to get his attention this whole time. to me it reads like he's got a bruised ego from being ignored and is being a hater about it (so real lol). it's funny bc kabru is usually great at taking shit from others (esp elves) if it means nobody suspects/interrogates his true intentions and he can keep the peace. so why does laios tick him off so bad? now we have to get into the psychoanalysis of it all!

kabru is a cynic

first and foremost, kabru’s cynical philosophy about humans is challenged by the touden mission. but plenty of people don’t care about the impact of their actions, so why does kabru obsess over the toudens at the start? I figured kui changed gears with kabru's characterization following his introduction, but I want to try to connect it to kabru's unresolved survivor's guilt. kabru is the sole survivor of a catastrophe caused by negligence and oversight. he criticizes the negative impact of the toudens' generosity and naïveté and confirms his cynical worldview (the road to hell is paved with best intentions), but still maintains a level-headed perspective. on the other hand, kabru's interactions with laios are tinged with irrational jealousy/resentment/desperation, even prior to kabru learning laios' character/intentions as an adventurer. I cannot emphasize enough that I am employing a neutral definition of jealousy here--it seems kabru is jealous of the freedom to not care the way laios does not care about the fate of the island. this isn't to say laios doesn't care about humans, he does, but he seems so singleminded compared to kabru esp in ch 76. kabru sees laios going to the literal end of the world to save his sister. laios gets to be human selfishly, kind-natured but ultimately self-prioritizing.

kabru correctly assesses motives (besides his own maybe). falin said she’d do anything to protect laios and marcille. laios has been socially rejected by people his whole life, and at first, he only cares about his sister and monsters. kabru has survived horror but only by accident… he doesn't agree with their pov and more importantly, it doesn’t exactly compute with him. the toudens are wholly unaware of their impact, which does not sit well with kabru at all, who understands the impact of negligence better than anyone else, esp how it ends up harming the less fortunate and extremely marginalized in society. it's reminiscent of the age-old trolley problem. while kabru has been the victim of senseless pain, I suspect kabru can’t yet make sense of senseless love. he gets to look down at their cause and call it selfish because it directly contradicts his lived experience.

kabru is an ethicist with a heroic streak

it's easy to glean that kabru wants to be the hero utaya should’ve had. while he's hardcore and intense, but not paranoid enough to do something rash. he uses violence as a means of achieving peace. he's self-aware enough to know his skill limits, which seems rational at a glance but the pressure he puts on himself suggests he views himself as inadequate until he achieves his goal. the races of humans are so split up and he sees that this is a matter of power first and foremost.

with the canaries, kabru submits to political pageantry to make a separate case for innocent people. senseless tragedy is unforgivable, but so is the "too little too late" reality of the canary system. he takes on the impossible task of rallying people together to save the dungeon. one read is that he's saving his childhood self from trauma perhaps by saving those like him… he's wishing someone did something before it got bad, wondering why nobody intervened when they had every opportunity to step in. it’s deeper than a sense of duty or fairness, this is about betrayal and retribution.

throughout his life, kabru struggles with the material inequity and limits of love. the human population is fundamentally segmented into a hierarchy due to lifespans and access to power/resources. his mother was the only one who loved him in utaya and she was ostracized because of his appearance and then she was killed due to senseless tragedy. his frustration with the elves encapsulates this idea perfectly, because he is aware of of the limits of their empathy as a long-lived race and adjusts his strategy and rhetoric accordingly. I think milsiril’s love for kabru is genuine, but still infantilizing and smothering due to the racial imbalance. this continues to inform his politics, as he views their perception of short-lived races with contempt. the worst offense is that their bigotry is nonsensical, meaning their hearts cannot be reasoned with.

dungeon meshi is a story about power and politics, yes, but genuine love and acceptance are the catalysts of change and equality. the "invisible gulf" that marcille is referring to is the inability to view other races with love and care. such is the essence of camaraderie. kabru's backstory, family history, and beliefs/motivations raise two important questions for me: who gets to be loved enough to survive, and then to thrive?

kabru is a monster

the emphasis on distinguishing between humans and monsters is quite interesting too. of all sentient beings, who qualifies as worthy of "human" treatment? who deserves empathy and acceptance? kabru seeks these answers to fix the world, but also to justify his place in it.

kabru's lack of self-worth is evident here, but what’s more interesting is he knows many humans suffer worse fates than some monsters. the dehumanization/neglect of fellow humans does not compute, if the premise is humans are superior to demi-humans/non-humans because mutual empathy and understanding. he clings to the superiority of humanity as an appeal to ethos to those in power despite what he might actually believe about himself. to kabru, the true injustice is that humans won’t even save “inferior” humans despite being the same. his unclear heritage manifests as guilt, as he feels directly responsible for his mother's suffering because he is monstrous. then here comes laios, a human who somehow can find it in himself to love monsters.

kabru doesn’t want laios to love him, per se, but laios’ love for monsters and for falin reveals life-altering possibilities for kabru: there is a world where someone could love him even if he were a monster. there is a world where somebody would go to extreme measures just to save him. kabru does not know the extent of laios' trauma but recognizes a sort of kindred spirit but inverse. taking off the ship goggles here--it has less to do with laios specifically, and more to do with what his beliefs/abilities represent for the trajectory of the world (because kabru studies how beliefs/abilities manifest into material reality, after all)

kabru is seeking the power of love

in a different story, kabru would be laios’ archnemesis. they would have a disastrous battle of opposing worldviews in their struggle for dominion. kabru has every right to want to take laios out bc while his affinity for monsters is sympathetic and even charming, it is still a natural threat… kabru has the true hero pathology. he believes he only deserves to live if he can save people for a variety of reasons/traumas. he should do whatever it takes to exterminate laios. but the expectation is subverted in chapter 76 bc we see kabru’s curiosity and ongoing quest for understanding win over his worst fears.

I feel like I’ve been projecting a lot but bear with me... a huge part of kabru’s character is him trying to figure out how to matter to people, or figuring out why people matter to others in general. it’s not to say he doesn’t matter to his friends or milsiril, but why else would he bother with all the manipulative people-pleasing? it would be less meaningful if he had ulterior motives like greed or power, but he plays into people's expectations/desires for a disastrously noble cause. he’s still actively living in his trauma as a deeply traumatized adult. it’s pure serendipity that laios can send him right back to his past and then pull him right out again. I don't think it's crazy to say kabru (correctly) projects a lot of shit on laios bc he doesn’t know how to deal with those injustices and barriers between people himself.

this is also why I believe kabru's beef with laios is as personal as it is strategic. we have to consider the trajectories of their character arcs (their big missions, respectively) in relation to one another as foils. if laios' love for falin can move mountains and do impossible things, kabru is subconsciously drawn to the magnitude of that love like a magnet. his response to cognitive dissonance is quite remarkable as well. at the root of his unbelievable capacity for understanding and curiosity is the deep wound of being unloved and unprotected. kabru does not avoid or run away from his fears, he quite literally keeps running toward them and follows it down to hell. he wants to identify the true source of his deepest wound.

to me, this omake connects his childhood curiosity to his search for love, almost as to ask “is there enough room for me to be loved?" and the same can be said for marcille's character arc/ backstory. her biracial heritage has caused her great existential pain and social isolation.

in dungeon meshi, the issues of protection and justice continue to be interpreted through love. if kabru were to go back in time and save utaya, he would’ve needed incomprehensible magic, a supernatural power to save himself, his mother, his hometown. in contrast, laios' mission to save falin is just one manifestation of the surreality of love, all of the impossibilities it permits. the touden party wade through invisible gulfs to save falin, but also each other. kabru doesn’t hate their story, he just can’t fathom it yet.

kabru is a skilled strategist and communicator. and does not listen to his heart or body until he’s absolutely forced to do it. he has insane goals and expectations for himself and will go to great measures for those goals. as cerebral and cold as he might seem, it’s critical to understand that his character arc is about love too. in my opinion, it’s almost as if he’s trying to change his reality in hopes of finding love. my favorite thing about kabru is that he has all the narrative makings of the perfect misunderstood villain who self-destructs at the end of the story. but kabru is too smart for that, too focused on the big-picture impacts and the historical trajectory of the cause. instead, kabru finds the wherewithal to stand down once he understands that laios is capable of loving humanity like he does, or that he could help him see the value in humanity at all.

to love is to understand, and then to surrender.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

first of all, this is all legit, and not bait, though i have a feeling it may come off that way, this did happen to me. please don't publish if tumblr sends it off anon.

i'm a lesbian with gender dysphoria, and while i haven't had much sexual experience, i would consider myself a stone top. in the last year and a half i began reading "terf"/radical feminist writings and reading "terf" tumblr blogs fairly actively, largely out of frustration with misogyny i was experiencing IRL. though i never engaged with the community i did stop identifying as genderfluid and started understanding my dysphoria as stemming from the trauma of being bullied by other girls for having a high-androgen DSD, and using different pronouns/transition thoughts as unhealthy coping mechanisms. i'm happy with this, but i also don't know if i'm attracted to women anymore.

i've always been attracted to women in a way that's stereotypically guy-like; i find feminine women very attractive and not so much fellow(?) butches, want to penetrate with a strap on, don't like bush much, cursory interest in BDSM/daddy kink. i read/watched het erotica and porn sometimes and identified with the man. what i read problematized pretty much every aspect of that- femininity as a cage, penetration as violence/straps as disidentification w the female body, infantilization of women, bdsm as abuse etc. also, desisting making me more conscious of dysphoria/knowledge of how extensive sexual dimorphism is putting me off both women with larger breasts and hips AND smaller breasts and hips/unrealistically masculine body types as well. so a lot of what turned me on before isn't arousing anymore, or i feel guilty about it, and i haven't been able to find butch4butch stuff which is much healthier very interesting.

i consider my sexuality healthier now on a political level but my ability to get aroused/jerk off has plummeted (used to be i could jork it sunrise to sunset) and thinking about being in a relationship w another woman makes me feel uneasy and weird, especially since a lot of what i read emphasized reciprocative cunnilingus/tribbing (which i don't like) as the healthiest sex options. i also think about both my dysphoria and my sexuality issues 100x more than i did before, even though i was promised the opposite (freedom from dysphoria and feeling happier as a lesbian), and it's stressing me out day-to-day. i'm aware based on your general ethos that you probably think i'm a terrible person right now, but i figured it'd be useful to seek the opinion of someone who radically disagrees with what i've read on what i could/should do next, since i admittedly miss being at peace with my sexuality.

thanks for reading.

hi there anon,

it's a bummer that you'd think I would assume you're a terrible person based on everything you've told me here. I generally try not to consider people terrible unless they're actively being shitheads or hurting other people, which doesn't sound at all like you're describing. from what you've told me, you've been up to your eyes in some information that's made you feel deeply uncomfortable in your sexuality and now you're seeking out a new perspective to help you make sense of that hurt. that describes most of the people who send me questions!

it's so striking to me that much of what you're describing is very reminiscent of what's recounted in The Persistent Desire, an anthology of writings on butch/femme identities edited by femme historian and archivist Joan Nestle that was released in 1992. in various essays and interviews countless butches and femmes recount their discomfort with the feminist turn against butch and femme identities that too place in the 70s, when both roles were declared problematic recreations of heterosexuality and summarily decried as politically "incorrect" for lesbians. it's shocking to me how much what you've described echoes these accounts experienced by lesbians half a century ago - the disowning of women who are "excessively" feminine or masculine, the demonizing of penetrative sex, general insistence that there are "correct" sex acts that every lesbian is supposed to enjoy, and the deep discomfort and insecurity that this causes among people who don't fit into the very rigid standards of proper lesbian identity set forth.

here's a link to a PDF, if that's interesting to you at all. it's very long, so feel free not to read it straight through; it's a great project to skim and an incredible way to get in touch with the lesbians who came before us. their accounts of their lives are so wildly different from the boundaries of "good" queer representation that feel so universal today; in discussing their own lives many of these women speak very bluntly about their experiences with abuse, drugs, sex work, and violence. it's a great glimpse into the lives and history of a lot of very ordinary lesbians just living their lives, and I'm very grateful it's been preserved.

now, as for what you're actually gonna do: hey. listen. first of all, if you haven't given up reading this stuff yet, you've gotta. you simply cannot keep internalizing stuff that makes you overanalyze your own sexuality so hard that you feel uncomfortable about being attracted to women. that's not "healthy," that's conversion therapy lite. there are other places to talk about feminism without being made to feel ashamed of yourself.

listen: there's nothing unhealthy about anything that you described about yourself. being a stone butch, being attracted to certain looks and aesthetics, watching porn, wanting to use a strap and roleplay during sex and not being interested in other sexual activities - all of those thing are completely normal and, yes, healthy. certainly healthier than feeling the need to repress your sexuality so hard that thinking about being with a woman doesn't feel right!

should we run through that list?

femininity as cage - sure, okay, femininity isn't for everyone, and there are parts of it that suck. that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with women who like to wear dresses or put on makeup or shave or whatever, or anyone who's attracted to those women. genuinely I cannot think of anything less interesting or important to feminist organizing than getting hung up about what people want to wear. it's clothes, dude. it's fucking clothes. pick a more important hill to die on, I implore you.

penetration is not the same thing as violence. there's just nothing to debate about that one; it's patently absurd to pretend that every act of penetrative sex is rape and you'd have to fundamentally misunderstand how consent works to believe that.

straps are not about "disidentification with the female body," they're about augmenting a sexual experience. a strap-on is not more problematic than a vibrator or a massage oils or a pillow used to prop up a body part. unless those are also bad? are those bad? are pillows disidentifying from the female body also? I'm not up to date on this.

straight up I don't even know which part of your whole deal the infantilization of women is supposed to address, but a thing that I've always found interesting about a lot of radical feminists who are deeply distrustful of sex is the way that many of them seem to assume that women can't be trusted to understand their own sexual desires and need to be taught what's appropriate. seems kind of condescending to me, personally.

BDSM isn't the same thing as abuse. abuse, crucially, is not a situation that people can safe word out of or negotiate the constraints of. it's kind of like how, you know, I purposefully pay people to shove needles in my skin when I want a tattoo, but I wouldn't be stoked about it if somebody just ran up to me in public and started stabbing me without any warning or conversation. context is crucial. there can certainly be abusive people within BDSM spaces, but that's true of people of literally every sexual proclivity on earth, and certainly not an innate feature of BDSM. it's just make believe, dude. it's dress up. it's sex LARPing.

also, psst, hey. that thing about being attracted to women in a "guy-like" way? no such thing. men are humans, dude; they experience attraction in as many different ways as anyone else. for every dude interested in the same stuff as you there are men yearning for hairy women, muscular women, masculine women, women who will dominate them, women who would rather be eaten out then penetrated, and so on. to say nothing of the men who aren't into women at all! and, as is obvious from your own experience, men don't have a monopoly on those kinds of feelings, anyway! there are no men or women feelings, dude; it's all just people having feelings and fighting for their lives trying to figure out what they're into to.

I want to particularly talk about that last bit, where you mentioned not enjoying or wanting to engage in cunnilingus or tribbing. that's totally fine! people like different shit in all kinds of combinations - I'm personally a huge fan of getting eaten out and scratched up or bitten, but I don't do penetration and I've genuinely never met anyone who actually liked tribbing - and there are absolutely people out there who will, to paraphrase the poet Tinashe, perfectly match your freak.

(have you heard about the perpetual, critical shortage of tops that the queer community faces? you'd be a godsend, just saying.)

also, actually, hey I wanted to circle back to another thing as well: it's deeply alarming to me that whatever radfem stuff you've been reading has you feeling "put off" of women with wide hips and large breasts as well as women with small breasts and hips. what is wrong with either of those? both of those are just ways that women naturally look. women just look a wide variety of ways, and it's sad that that's upsetting you now. just thinking about this, conceptually, is giving me hives.

having been up to your eyes in all of this, I can definitely understand why you'd feel the urge to overanalyze you own gender and sexuality to the point of completely talking yourself out of identifying with anything that feels good for you. as I said, that's actually not healthy in any way, and as a sex educator I can't say that I think anyone genuinely invested in your well-being would want that for you.

entirely aside from their feelings on trans people, which I obviously disagree with pretty vehemently, one of the things about radfems that's most endlessly vexing to me is the insistence that such an extremely narrow range of sexual behaviors are appropriate. seems like a miserable way to live, and I sincerely hope you can detangle yourself from the morass of shame it's landed you in. you deserve better.

[perfinn]

you're out of touch, i'm out of time

aegon ii targaryen x reader - part ii

wc: 4.6k

summary: you search for answers on why aegon is here, and find you rather enjoy his company

cw: f!reader, aegon the cringefail king, kinda just a lot of hanging out, a little make out session, aegon almost pushes toward dubcon advances but he's quickly stopped

masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika

You hardly sleep a wink that first night with Aegon in your flat. You’re too worried about him, and the carpet in the living room. You’re still not an expert on history, but you’re quite sure that vodka hadn’t been invented yet when Aegon was supposed to be alive. If it had, Westeros hadn’t yet set up any trade routes beyond the Bone Mountains. You still remember your first vodka hangover, even if you don’t quite remember the night that preceded it, and it was not a good time. Aegon is in for something of a shock if he hasn’t drowned in his own vomit– cheap as your vodka is, it’s a lot stronger than that piss water from the Arbour the historians all say he drank.

You rise from your bed with your alarm, not snoozing it as you usually do and instead going to go check on Aegon. Thankfully, he’s right where you left him and alive and well, if his open-mouth snoring is any indication. He’s splayed out on your couch, legs falling over the side and bottle of water you’d made up for him spilled on the floor. Hells, at least it’s only water he spilled. 

Leaving him to sleep a moment longer, you pad into the kitchen and rummage around for the electrolyte tablets you keep for this exact scenario. Well– maybe not this exactly. Usually it’s reserved for your own hangovers, not for when the time travelling king of Westeros has broken into your drink cabinet and passed out on your couch. But close enough. You make up a drink for him, deciding he can cope with the orange flavour even if he doesn’t like it and come back over, setting the glass loudly down on the coffee table and waking Aegon with a jolt. 

He almost falls from the couch, gasping and throwing his hands over his ears. “Get out!” He demands, wincing at the sound of his own voice. “Five more minutes!”

“Not your chambermaid, Aegon,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. “Drink this. And no, yesterday wasn't a fever dream, you’re still in the future.”

Part of you had hoped yesterday's events were a weird dream of your own. 

Aegon cracks his eyes open, taking in the sight of you slowly before he groans and presses his fists hard into his eye sockets. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “My head…”

“Yeah,” you say, picking the glass back up and holding it out to him. “Straight vodka will do that to you. Drink.”

He lowers his hands and eyes you suspiciously as he reaches for the glass, sniffing it. You roll your eyes. He’ll drink from a random bottle he finds in your home but not something you’re offering to him?

“It'll make you feel better,” you say. “It's orange flavoured.”

“Well, that makes it alright then,” he grumbles, taking a slow sip and moving to sit upright. “If I’m getting poisoned, at least the poison tastes like oranges.”

You make your way over to the kitchen and fish around your cupboards for instant coffee as Aegon makes a noise of confusion.

“Why is it-” he stops, brows furrowed as he looks for the word. “Bubbles?”

“Oh,” you say, looking back at him while you clutch the Garfield mug you found at the thrift a few months ago. You lean over to put the kettle on, sighing as you realise how much of modern life you’re going to have to explain to Aegon. You wonder how much of it can be avoided, skirted around so you don't have to explain the entire industrial revolution to him. “Yeah, it’s fizzy. It’s not poison, just science.”

Aegon stares at you indignantly. “Are you a witch?”

“Gods, it’s not a magic potion, Aegon. Why can’t you just accept that we’ve made a bit of progress in the last thousand years? Things are different, that doesn’t make it magic. Just drink it, it’ll help you feel better.”

Aegon takes a slow sip, lips turning down as he seems to decide he likes it well enough. You turn your back to him and scoop a spoonful of the coffee into your mug, wondering what you’re going to do with him. You’ll have to call out of work, at least for today. You don’t trust him to be left alone; Gods know where he’ll end up, if he’ll contract some disease his immune system isn’t ready for or get hit by a car as he so nearly did yesterday. You hear him groan softly and turn back to see him leaning back on the sofa and sipping slowly at the drink.

You suppose he probably wants your attention, but you withhold it until you’ve taken the first sip of your coffee. It tastes as shit as you expect instant coffee to taste. Gods, you need to buy a proper coffee machine. You make your way back over to him, sitting down on the other end of the sofa. 

“Ready to talk yet?” You ask him. 

Aegon grunts, rubbing at his temple. “Quietly,” he mumbles. “I had hoped yesterday might be a dream.”

“Me too,” you say, sipping slowly at your coffee. “I’ll be frank with you, Aegon, I don’t know what to do with you.”

Aegon scoffs, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. You’d tell him to take them down, but it’s not exactly a nice coffee table. You can see him staring at the plastic dragon figure on the TV unit. The bags under his eyes are so heavy. “That often seems to be the case,” he says, leaning forward slowly and picking up the dragon. It’s a small one, red and gold. “I wonder how this feels for Sunfyre…”

“Sunfyre was your dragon, right?” You ask, voice still quiet as he requested.

He nods, frowning as he moves the hard plastic wing of the toy. “He’s a fine beast,” he says. “Should he think me dead?”

“I wouldn't know,” you say. “Aegon, I think we need to get you home.”

Aegon goes quiet, almost as though he knows, somehow, that a grizzly fate awaits him in his own time. But he nods. “Yes,” he agrees. “How?”

“No idea. We’ll need to go to the library.”

He looks over at you, setting the dragon down and raising an eyebrow. “So you really can read?”

“Really really,” you say with a slight smile. “We peasants have been literate for centuries. I’ll make you some breakfast and then we can go.”

Aegon leans back again, watching you with wonder as you go back to the kitchen. “You know, I thought we might teach the smallfolk to read,” he says. “I think after the war I’ll bring it up.”

You glance over at him and smile. “Maybe you will.”

“They like me, I think,” Aegon says. “The smallfolk. Aegon the Magnanimous.”

You raise an eyebrow, pulling down a box of cereal. “Kind of lame.”

Aegon sighs. “Yes. We are working on it.”

Once Aegon has eaten his fill of your off brand cereal (which he decides he hates) you get him up and lead him out of the house. Aegon still seems fascinated with the world outside. 

“I suppose it does still look like King’s Landing,” he says, staring up at the buildings around him. He refuses to look at the cars, and you can’t blame him. You can’t imagine they’d be an easy thing to process right off the bat. Still, he’s going to have to deal with it when you get onto the bus. 

You stop at the bus stop with him, pulling out your phone to check when it’ll arrive. You can feel Aegon staring at you, you glance up, seeing that confused look on his face. You put the phone away. “Bus’ll be here in five minutes.”

He nods, but doesn’t ask what a bus is. “It is strange,” he says. “It looks so different, but much the same.”

You nod, offering him a small smile. “A lot of it is heritage protected, so it can’t be altered. We’ve expanded a lot, so all the outer city is newer, but this is the centre.”

“This is Flea Bottom, right?”

You smile, laughing a bit. “Yeah, it is. They called it Flea Bottom back then too?”

Aegon nods, sniffing the air. “It doesn’t smell so badly these days, but the buildings are the same.”

“Yeah, well, rent’s cheapest here. There was some government initiative to clean it up. Or gentrify it. The university bought out a bunch of the flats for student accommodation, it was the best I could afford.”

“This… university, it is like the Citadel?”

You nod. “Citadel’s a university too, but yes.”

“No, the Citadel is the Citadel,” he says, scoffing. 

“Okay, it’s a university now. Certainly not one I can afford,” you huff, reminded of the rejected scholarship you’d applied for. You suppose it wouldn’t have helped– rent in Oldtown is something else entirely. You crane your neck to spot the bus, seeing it coming close enough to flag it down. Aegon immediately steps behind you, eyeing the huge vehicle warily. You reach back, gently taking his hand and squeezing it without thinking. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “Just trust me and follow me.”

You feel Aegon’s breath falter, and somehow you know he’s staring at your hand in his. You gently lead him up the step and ask the bus driver to tap on for two. The busdriver raises an eyebrow at Aegon, but nods and lets you on. You scan your card, leading Aegon up to a seat by the back.

Aegon sits down, frowning at the interior. “This is like a wheelhouse. But with no horse. And uglier.”

“They’re not really made for style,” you tell him. 

He nods, looking at you again. He glances down at your hands, still intertwined. When you notice, you begin to pull away with the thought that he doesn’t like it. But Aegon only holds you tighter. You meet his eyes and find something desperate in them, a silent begging for you not to let go. Strange. But you oblige. 

“So,” you say softly. “Can you tell me what you last remember?”

Aegon exhales slowly, puffing out his cheeks and glancing between you and the window. He settles on watching the world pass by, no doubt faster than any wheelhouse could carry him. He must decide he trusts you enough. 

“It was nothing,” he tells you, leaning his forehead against the window. “I was with my favourites. Drinking, talking. Discussing my sobriquet. Everything after that is nothing. I didn’t even go to sleep. It is as though I blinked, and I was in the street. Then I met you.”

“Well that's…” You purse your lips, leaning back in the bus seat. “Nondescript. You weren't doing anything out of the ordinary? Not fucking with any ancient rocks? Weirwood trees?”

“No,” he says, sliding his gaze toward you. “I was on the throne, in the Keep.”

None of this helps. You scratch at your chin as you try to make sense of any of it. You pull your phone from your pocket, opening the browser and typing in – dreading the targeted ads you’re inadvertently signing yourself up to get – ‘accidental time travel firsthand account.’

Aegon peers over, watching the screen with fascination as you scroll past various untrustworthy conspiracy sites. 

“Do you suppose perhaps Rhaenyra paid a witch to curse me?”

“Why would she do that?”

Aegon's lips pull down in a pouty frown. “Well, my brother did kill her son.”

“Yeah, well, that'll do it,” you sigh, closing your phone and leaning back in your seat. You glance out the window, watching the city go by. The people milling about the street go by so quickly you cannot see their faces. However strange a day anyone thinks they may be having, it cannot be more than yours. 

“Witches. Woods witches. Weirwood, maybe,” you murmur, tilting your head this way and that. “Even if you weren't directly fucking with any, there's one in the Keep’s godswood. I went on a tour when I first moved here.”

“A tour…?”

“It's as good a place to start as any. Weirwood, woods witches, and rock formations. The library will have plenty on it.”

You get off the bus at the campus library soon after. The university sits upon Visenya’s hill behind the sept, which you’ve never really bothered to enter. It’s a strange thing, living in such a city rather than visiting it. Apart from your dead boring tour of the Red Keep, you've never visited the tourist traps. Growing up in the Riverlands, you never once visited any of the old castles. You always thought you might see more of King’s Landing when you came. Perhaps you would if you could, but you find you rarely have the time between study and work. 

As you ascend the steps with Aegon in tow, he stops and turns, gazing across the city. You glance back at him, following his gaze up Aegon’s High Hill, where the Red Keep sits. You stop in your footsteps, coming back down toward him. 

“You okay?” You venture. 

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Just odd, I suppose. It looks the same.”

“Lots of it still does, I guess. The dragonpit is still there too.”

You nod your head to the other end of the city, pointing him to the ruins of the building. 

Aegon pales. “It's… what happened to it?”

“Time,” you murmur. In part because it's true, but also because you don't know why it's in ruins. You’ve never been that far up the hill. You’ve never had it in you to wonder. 

“I don't believe you.”

You look over at him, and an intense purple gaze meets yours. You scoff. “I think I’m getting used to you not believing me,” you say. “Come on.”

You continue up the stairs and Aegon follows after a moment. “You really won't tell me what happened to the dragonpit?”

“No. Because I don't know. It's been like that for centuries, as far as I’m aware. And even if I did know, I feel like there has to be some sort of rule against it.”

“Against what?”

“Against telling you about the future!”

“What? But I’m already here! If the Gods didn't want me to know about the future I wouldn't be here!”

You purse your lips. He makes a good point, but still. “Well all the movies say it's bad. What if I send you back and you change things, and make it so I cease to exist? And I can’t tell you anyway because I don't know, so don't worry about it.”

“You know, I don't understand half the things you say,” Aegon says as you push the door to the library open, gesturing for him to enter first. 

“Likewise.”

Once inside, you make your way up to the librarian’s desk, the older woman immediately perking up with your presence. You smile at her. 

“Hi, um, I’m after pretty much anything you have on weirwood trees, woods witches, and, uh, like rock formations–”

“And any scrolls you have on Aegon the Second, thank you.”

“No.”

You look back at Aegon, who pouts at being denied. You imagine he’s not used to that.  

“Don't worry yourself with the Aegon stuff,” you say, looking back at the librarian sheepishly. “He's uh… easily distracted.”

The librarian smiles anyway, putting her glasses on the end of her nose and leaning into her computer. “Let me see what I can find you.”

A few minutes later, Aegon and yourself are seated at a secluded table surrounded by soft chairs and lit by dusty sunlight, tucked away between bookshelves only matched in age by Aegon. Old books and new are scattered across the table, and Aegon marvels at the shining pages of a new textbook, thumbing at the photographs of Harrenhal. 

“Can I see that one?” You ask, holding your hands out for it. Aegon slides it across. He folds his arms on the table, leaning forward and resting his chin on his arms. 

“Do you do this often?” He asks. “Seems dreadfully dull.”

You shake your head. “Not as often as I ought to.”

“I assume this is what my father did all day,” he grumbles, thumbing at the worn cover of a book on the Old Gods. “Before he, you know.”

“Died?”

“No,” he says. “Well, yes. But I think his soul left long before his body gave out.”

You nod, unsure what to say. From what you can gather, Aegon didn't have much of a relationship with his father. You’re not sure if it's wise to pry. You’re not sure what you’d say if you did. 

Aegon begins to make a clicking sound with his mouth as you flick through the pages. 

“You could help,” you say after a moment. 

“You want me to read?” He scoffs. “Your magical little drink didn't work that well. I just wish we had a bard or something.”

“A bard,” you repeat, voice flat. You roll your eyes, fishing into your pocket for your phone. He watches you with curiosity as you set the phone down and begin playing something at low volume. As soon as the song begins, he jolts upright and leans forward. He snatches up the phone, turning it over in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. It’s some old synth song, something you remember watching your parents dance to when they’d have their friends over on the weekend and drink late into the night. 

“Incredible,” Aegon murmurs. “How do you look at dusty books when you have this thing? Bards and scrolls at your fingertips.”

“I’m actually trying to get my screentime down,” you say sheepishly. “It’s uh… it’s pretty rough.”

Aegon gives you a quizzical glance before he’s distracted by your screen lighting up. He seems quite entertained by your lock screen and is silent for a few moments. You turn your gaze back to the books, resting your temple on your fist. 

Your phone buzzes after a moment, and you glance at it only momentarily before you school yourself back toward the books. You’ve been trying to stop being so trained by your phone.

“Messages. Jeyne– and there’s a little drawing of what I suppose is a seashell –” You bolt upright as Aegon begins reading out the message. You try to snatch it from him, but he moves it out of your reach. “I just got YiTish dick – Seven Hells, then there’s more of these drawings, they look to be peaches? – freaky as everyone says.”

You stare, stunned into silence, at Aegon as he processes what he’s just read, looking at you with a wicked sort of grin. He sets the phone down, now playing some modern house music you barely remember adding to your playlist. 

“I’m to understand this is some sort of raven, yes?”

“Yes,” you say. Gods, what else could you even say to that? Your former roommate was never the most couth person, and you were never her biggest fan. But even though she’s disappeared to the other side of the world, you’re still subject to her unprompted oversharing. 

“This Jeyne is quite something.”

“Yep,” you mumble, managing to grab your phone back. “How about we wrap this up for today? I’m suddenly craving YiTish food.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Aegon snickers. You realise that this may be the first time you’ve seen him smile, however wry and mocking it may be. It’s a lovely expression, but one you suspect he doesn’t wear very often. 

“Come on,” you say, picking up several of the books. “Grab a few. We’re taking them back. But I’m borrowing this weirwood tree one.”

Aegon groans in protest, but gathers up the remaining books to balance in his arms. Once you’ve borrowed the book and created a list of the others, you escape the dusty library into the waning sunlight.

Aegon is a chatterbox when you’re on the bus again, and as you order the both of you some YiTish food. Clearly his hangover’s worn off. You smile apologetically at the young girl behind the counter as you take the bags of food. You shoot Aegon a look in hopes of shutting him up, but you have no such luck. The walk back up to your flat is accompanied by the sound of Aegon's voice. 

When you get inside, he finally stops. Now that you’re in private, he wishes no longer to speak? You glance back at him with a raised eyebrow, but he's watching you unpack the food. 

“I got you sweet and sour pork,” you tell him, handing him the little box and a fork. “Should be free enough of any major allergens… if not, Jeyne left behind an epipen.”

“I’m growing quite tired of asking you what things mean,” he says, opening up the box and sniffing at it. He pulls his lips down but doesn't look to actually be frowning. 

You grab your own food, moving to sit down on your worn sofa and beckoning for Aegon to join you. “I’m guessing your time doesn't have YiTish food,” you say. 

He huffs, nodding as he sits down and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. You’d tell him to knock that off if you had a nicer coffee table, but as it is – a piece of shit wooden box with shaky wheels on the bottom – you don't bother. “Not by far.”

“I’m not sure how authentic this is,” you say, poking your chopsticks into the box and searching for a nice crunchy bit of cabbage. “But it's cheap, and has never done me wrong.”

Aegon takes a tentative bite, and you watch as his face twists in curious acceptance of the new flavours. It’s… Gods, well, it's sort of cute. 

“I like it. I think,” he remarks, taking another bite and leaning back comfortably. “Much has changed.”

You nod, glancing out of the window at the city lights. How had it looked all those years ago? How has the skylike changed? Brightened?

“You say you can't tell me what you know about my life,” Aegon says slowly. You nod, opening your mouth to sigh and tell him again that you won't budge, only he stops you. “I’m not going to ask. I only want to make sense of your world. And what remains of mine.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Okay. Well, I’ll try.”

Aegon nods, looking down contemplatively. “Hm… the Dothraki?”

Not… exactly where you expected him to start. “Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “They're still around. They're kind of baller, actually. Like they gained all the modern stuff but still live nomadically.”

“Are they still so… brutal?”

“Oh, no,” you say. “Really kind of a peaceful state now. Jeyne reckons she'll be heading to the Sea after YiTi.”

Aegon nods slowly. “This Jeyne girl is quite something. She used to live with you?”

You nod. “Yeah. We were assigned the same flat… I can’t say I ever really liked her much, but she was tolerable.”

“And she… left? Escaped? “

“Mhm. Decided she was unfulfilled by higher education and fucked of to YiTi to ‘find herself.’ Alright for some, I guess.”

Aegon stares at you in silence for a moment, smiling ever so slightly. “You speak in such a strange and wonderful way,” he murmurs. 

You can't help but smile. He has a nice smile about him. You suspect it's not an expression he uses much, at least not in a real, involuntary way. 

“So do you,” you say softly. He’s… goodness, he’s beautiful in this light. You know you shouldn't think that. 

(But then, why shouldn't you? He's a grown man, he’s sober, what’s stopping you? Responsibility? Expectation? You’re not certain.)

He must see the budding conflict on your face because he reaches out to touch your cheek. He lifts his thumb up, pressing it between your eyebrows to smooth out the crease there. “Why the frown?”

You smile wryly at him. “Just thinking,” you tell him as he sets his food down. 

“Of course. You do a lot of that, don't you?”

You huff a soft laugh. “Too much.”

He shifts closer, and you find yourself less and less willing to stop him with every second. “Take a break from thinking,” he says, leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss before you can respond. 

There's a moment of hesitation, the briefest second where you contemplate pulling away. You should. The last thing you should be doing is letting Aegon entangle himself with you. He's misplaced in time, practically a stranger. Not to mention married.

(Unhappily, and to his sister, but all the same.)

But the moment passes. And you let him. And you lean into him and return the favour. Encouraged by your response, Aegon shifts closer and grabs at your waist, trying to pull you closer. 

It happens fast, he doesn't seem to want to waste time building up to a point before he's shoving his tongue into your mouth and crashing his teeth against yours. 

“Aegon,” you murmur. He only grunts in protest, continuing his advances. “Aegon, slow down.”

Aegon huffs as he pulls away just a fraction, hands groping a little too harshly at your hips. “What for?”

You frown at him, gently pushing him away. He relents, but begins to scowl. You place your hands firmly on his shoulders. “There's no need to rush,” you say quietly.

You realise then that Aegon is used to taking. He is used to taking what he needs and not bothering with any sort of lead-up beyond unrefined kissing. He surges forward to kiss you again but you place your hand in his face and shove him away. 

He cries your name indignantly, unused to being denied either. 

“Sit down,” you say firmly, shoving him back onto the sofa cushion. “And stay.”

Aegon looks stunned, but readily obeys. He leans back against the cushions and watches you warily as you shift closer to him, throwing your leg over his lap so you straddle him. Aegon seems almost afraid to touch you all of a sudden, so you take his hands and place them gently on your hips. 

Should you be encouraging this? Absolutely not. But some touch starved little sect of your brain has staged a coup on your good sense, so here you are. 

“Have you never done this before?” You ask him softly. 

“Been ridden?” He scoffs. “Of course I have.”

“No,” you say. “I’m not riding you. Have you ever just made out with someone for a little while?”

Averting his eyes, Aegon shakes his head. 

“That’s okay,” you murmur, catching his lips in a gentle kiss that seems to startle him. You place your hands on his chest, closing your eyes as you kiss him again. He’s hesitant now, unsure. But you press on, sucking gently at his lip before slowly, gently, sliding your tongue into his mouth and dragging it over the flat of his. Aegon makes a soft noise of shock, hands grasping a little harder at the soft of your hips.

Before, he hadn’t seemed to know what to do with his tongue in your mouth except to have it shoved in there, desperate to have some sort of dominance over your mouth. You can tell he’s still fighting the urge to take over, but he sits nicely for you, only gently pushing back against your tongue. He seems to rather enjoy the feeling of not being in charge, of simply being guided. Not told what to do, not commanded, just… treated gently. 

After a while, you gently pull away, your thumb brushing over his wet bottom lip. “Do you want to keep going?” You ask, though you know you shouldn’t.

Aegon looks up at you with dilated eyes, pupils almost sparkling as he blinks slowly. Almost dazed. “I’d like to keep doing this. It’s nice.”

You smile, gently pecking his lips and nodding. “Okay,” you whisper. “We can keep doing this.”

You decide your research can wait. It’ll still be there tomorrow. 

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Last year I felt anxious posting about the Holocaust because of attacks from the left. Now I’m afraid to post about the Holocaust because of attacks from the right.

Yesterday I called a friend of mine who is working on a book about the internment of Japanese and indigenous Americans during WW2.

I asked her how she’s coping with knowing that, if it was happening now, the majority of Americans would support the internment camps. I went on to say that I know for a fact, that if I went on reddit rn and wrote “Hitler was bad,” at least six people would reply with something like OKAY BUT HIS POLICY YOU CAN’T JUST PAINT HIM AS AWFUL ACROSS THE BOARD JUST BECAUSE HE MURDERED SOME JEWS.

I asked how she can even be a historian rn, knowing how deeply so many US Americans dgaf.

She didn’t have an answer. I don’t either.

[french-toast-enjoyer]

Venom essay baybey!!!!

as promised, here's my essay on symbrock as a dynamic! thank you to my contributors @symbiotic-slime

@bridoesotherjunk

@x-jean

@cannibalhellhound

@funkycave

@eddiebrockx

@bloodyaliens and @shiningstardan for helping me gather resources and testimony! the paper is a bit amateur but i hope it's an okay read! please let me know if I forgot to tag you!

Symbrock– or, A Complex Love Affair Between Parasite and Host   

23 April, 2024

Abstract

An investigation into “Symbrock,” or the bizarre emotional relationship between Eddie Brock– a struggling journalist and Spider-Man villain– and Venom– the parasitic alien symbiote that lives in Eddie’s body. Herein will discuss the themes, appeal, and complicated nature of the dynamic. This is a dissertation, this is an analytical dissection, but above all, this is a love story.

Keywords: Symbrock. portmanteau of “symbiote” and “Brock.”

In the fall of 2018, Venom had his individual film debut to millions of Spider-Man fans and  casual movie-goers. The movie was critically panned. Fans of Spider-Man and critics of pop culture media united to declare that they hated the "buddy cop" direction that writers Kelly Marcel and Ruben Fliesher  had taken the character of Venom. Many believed that Marcel (most known for screen adapting Fifty Shades of Grey) wasted the film's grizzly horror potential exploring the getting-together of Eddie and Venom. The majority had spoken, the movie had failed. So why was the fandom exploding? Within days, there were threads, blog posts, and video essays, all delving into a new obsession with this chummy characterization of Eddie Brock and the Venom symbiote. Intrigued by it, turned on by it, and desperate for more content of it, this mysterious fan base began to go through nearly forty years of lore for more of the duo they loved. What they found changed the perception of Venom as a character. Venom historians, fans, and even comic writers declared that Eddie Brock and the symbiote were in love. But the question remains, why these two? What was the evidence, what was the response, and why did this relationship appeal to the queer audience it'd captured? In short, why had Venom become a queer icon?

Symbrock– or, A Complex Love Affair Between Parasite and Host   

When “I” became “We”

There is groundwork to lay in regards to proving the nature of this dynamic, and it begins with understanding what binds the two physically and spiritually, requiring readers to go back to the beginning. 

While originally brought together by a mutual hatred of Spider-Man (read, The Amazing Spider-Man #300, 1988) the earliest example of a deeper bond between Brock and Venom comes to us in Venom: The Hunger (1996). Within the comic itself, Eddie Brock and Venom’s dynamic is threatened by the symbiote’s cannibalistic desires, which Eddie can not cope with. 

   If we blur our eyes and look at The Hunger, we see a story about Eddie coming to terms with the inherent violence and needs of Venom. Specifically, he sees how the symbiote needs a chemical compound called phenethylamine to survive– a fact that often leads him to eat human brains to get his fix. A trait that disturbs Brock so much that it drives the symbiote away, leaving the man without powers. In a straightforward manner, the story follows Eddie's journey to accept this hunger in order to remain bonded to Venom. In the final pages of the comic, Eddie brings the symbiote a vial of phenethylamine, as well as promises to share his own. The two reunite to create something stronger once again. From a distance, it's an exploration into what binds the two physically, but it’s not a fair one. Upon closer inspection, The Hunger is much more than a story of compromise. 

The deep eroticism of Venom, to most, begins with the very chemical that the symbiote subsists on. For the purposes of Eddie and Venom's connection, it's important to know that phenethylamine is chemically similar to phenylethylamine– commonly referred to as “the love hormone.” According to the National Institute of Health (NIH), when concentrated, the compound has similar effects on the brain to amphetamines. Broadly, it is considered a “feel-good” chemical, and is associated with sensations of intense euphoria and gratification due to its releases of dopamine. (read: NIH). Including a chemical associated with love, sex, and even chocolate is obviously an intentional decision on the writer's part. There are thousands of compounds that comic creators had to choose from. Fear hormones, rage hormones, all things that could've related more to the brutal nature of Venom as a villain.

But the writer, Len Kaminski, chose love. And so was born Venom’s obsession with the chemical, leading him to chase it in all its forms, from human brains and nerve endings– to, as seen in the last panels of The Hunger, a heart-shaped box of chocolates, which the symbiote says is a great source of phenethylamine. There it is, a scientific explanation of why Venom feeds on love. But even with this justification of the phenomenon, Kaminski refuses to pull punches, refuses to make this platonic.

All I Ever Want Is Just A Little Love

Kaminski’s reading of Brock is far beyond romantic, and it bleeds into how writers would interpret the character even decades later (most notably, Mike Costa’s Venom run from 2016-2019). In the first volume of Hunger, Kaminski writes a heartbreaking scene in which, after eating a man’s brain, Eddie shows a deep remorse that drives Venom to separate from their bond. This was mentioned above, but what was not mentioned was how the symbiote left Brock; naked and trembling in a back alley, begging “the other” not to abandon him. The man is left in a state of temporary psychosis without Venom, his brain leached of all phenethylamine. After a stint in a tortuous sanitarium, he chases the symbiote down and reunites with it, claiming proudly “It’s not human, but it’s given me things no girlfriend ever could,” and declaring that he finally has enough love to sustain the titular hunger. 

This wouldn’t be the last time Eddie would be written as captivated by his love for Venom, but it would go on to influence later iterations of the character, from the aforementioned Costa run to directorial notes of the films that’d launched the character into infamy.

In Venom #150, Mike Costa compared the bond between Brock and Venom to marriage. The interaction is a chilling one, taking place within the church where the two originally bonded, and where Eddie angsts about the nature of their relationship. He confesses, in vague terms, to a priest, that he loves his “other,” but that he’s been driven to do things he never would have done before. When the father implies that the dynamic isn’t healthy, we see a violent, possessive side of Venom. The symbiote overtakes Eddie’s body and nearly kills the priest– an action he later repents for the very same priest. He vows to try to be better in the name of devotion to his other. This marks a shift in Venom’s character and a complex arc into a more open and honest relationship between the two. And, as stated previously, this interpretation would grow to be popular with an audience of queer people, but the question remains as to why. 

All Guts and Heart. There's an air of nuanced relatability to Venom as a unit. On online forums, users within the fandom each have unique reasons for loving the ship. Some enjoy that both characters are relatable outcasts, some are enthralled with the trope of “idiots in love” present in their dynamic, and some are just plain attracted to Venom. 

But for a more devoted sect of the fan base, the intrigue lay in the intense physical proximity between symbiote and host. The potential for intimacy that comes with literally sharing a mind and body is intense. Venom, according to both the comics and films, sees every thought, compulsion, desire, and regret Eddie has, and Brock can do just the same to Venom. 

One example of this is an excerpt from Marvel Comics Presents #5 (2019), which recently became circulated for its dark, provocative, and tense language. In the comic, Venom is handling the man with their tendrils while speaking in his mind. “We can feel every dirty curve of Eddie's intentions. All that lust entangled with terror.” and later, “We enjoy the taste of Eddie's heartbeat. Strong, solid, sweet … Should we make it go faster?” To which Eddie responds, “Watch the teeth.”

Fans were stunned by the sensuality of these panels; particularly on Tumblr, a popular blogging website. One fan claimed to have even seen a phallic shape in the dreamscape of flesh and teeth that the scene was set in. Many more declared the scene was a sex act.

It seems almost like an intentional callback to the “It's not human,” line. As though the writers are willing to explore the dynamic in a romantic and psychological context, and fans love getting to see this dimension of the characters– even when the subject matter is dark. 

As with any piece of media, fan interaction is integral to the longevity and survival of a fan base, so it'd be an obvious point to investigate opinions of Venom within the fandom. 

Fan testimonials. When asked why the ship appealed to them, popular Symbrock blogger @symbiotic-slime responded, “I guess I would describe it as the intimacy of being known? Having your self laid bare and someone else seeing and knowing everything about you and still choosing to stay is very romantic in my opinion.” 

Regarding personal relation to the individuals: “It's partially because of being the weird neurodivergent queer kid. People think they're weird, their relationship is wrong, or something like that. Kinda hits a little too close to home.” says user @cannibalhellhound. The community in general seems to relate deeply to the outcast nature of Eddie and Venom, a point that comes through as well in discussions of the characters’ presentation and gender, as well as their “loser” status. Symbiotic-slime described a sense of connection to the devil-may-care attitude the symbiote takes with their pronouns and appearance, and user @just-anti-heros-things states succinctly, “Together they make a whole idiot who can fight battles and save the world. Or just fuck around and find out.”

 A handful of aspec (asexual spectrum) fans even described connecting with the alien nature of their relationship, with user @bridoesotherjunk saying quote, “They’re not putting on a performance to please anyone- they’re just… them. And they love each other for it! That’s what I want for myself,” and @shiningstardan comparing the relationship to their own experiences with attraction towards other people. 

No matter the sentiment, most fans agree that despite being outlandish and extraterrestrial, Venom and Eddie have a character more grounded than many an idealized hero in the Marvel universe. From holding hands in a movie theater to raising a child together, the two are never alone, and fans crave that proximity. 

Discussion

While not a  universally beloved franchise on its own, Venom has achieved cult status among a number of internet users for its raw, vulnerable, and often camp portrayal of a complicated relationship between two flawed characters. It's a fanbase that breeds creativity, exploration, and catharsis through the fantasy of a love foretold in stars. A place to make art, write fanfiction, and bond with other outcasts.

References

Kaminski, L., Halsted, T., Koblish, S., Lopez, K., & Smith, T. (1996). Venom, the hunger (Vol. 1–4). Published by Marvel Comics. 

Lee, S., Ditko, S., Yanchus, A., Rosen, S., Simek, A., & Lord, P. (1988). Marvel masterworks presents the amazing spider-man: Reprinting the amazing spider-man, nos. 11-20. Marvel Comics. 

Ryan, M. (2021, September 27). Andy Serkis on eddie and Venom’s “Love affair” in the new Venom sequel. UPROXX. https://uproxx.com/movies/andy-serkis-venom-let-there-be-carnage-eddie-venom-love-affair/ 

U.S. National Library of Medicine. (n.d.). Phenethylamine. National Center for Biotechnology Information. PubChem Compound Database. https://pubchem.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/compound/Phenethylamine 

Pak, G., Nocenti, A., Waid, M., Lapham, D., Lapham, M., Aydin, A., James Monroe Iglehart, Kibblesmith, D., Percy, B., Claremont, C., Williams, L., Seeley, T., Brisson, E., North, R., Pierson, D., Sacks, E., & Emily Ryan Lerner. (2020). Tales Through The Marvel Universe. Marvel Entertainment.

[saturdaysky]

So… the God of Curiosity! How does he relate to the Lords of the Golden Hill? Is he invited in, is he seen as an interloper or usurper? Absolutely adore these two!

What a great question! I spent the morning refreshing myself on the Lords of the Golden Hills, which is the 5e gnomish pantheon, if anyone's unfamiliar. They are more active in the lives of their followers than other gods.

Also, sorry, this is where I reveal my superpower of being unable to write short answers to anything.

what's a god to a mayhew

Mayhew's parents are historians who take the name "the Forgotten Folk" as a personal insult, so he was weaned on myths and histories of the Lords of the Golden Hills. The Lords set Mayhew's expectations for what gods should be: invested and actively working to make things better.

(couldn't resist drawing mayhew and mamahew)

In game, Mayhew ran into many awful situations that he thinks good gods could have fixed, but didn't. Refugees slaughtered for sport, children locked in Cazador's dungeons for eternity, families enslaved and used as hostages, children murdered by Gortash's Steel Watch, you name it. These people surely prayed, but gods did not save them. Do gods who do nothing deserve worship?

Not to Mayhew. He was FULLY on board with Gale's astral boat scene logic of "we will be gods but BETTER because we CARE and DO STUFF." Mayhew is not a long-term thinker, especially if people are hurting right now, right in front of him. He sees only trees, never forests.

He views himself and Gale as being on their own side. All of his post-ascension decisions are based on them being an inseparable pair shaking up the system. He's not interested in being part of Lords of the Golden Hills.

what's a mayhew to a god

The Lords probably have mixed feelings about him. They would not invite him into their brotherhood. However, his goals often align with theirs, and as long as Mayhew didn't rock their boat too much, they'd be tenuous allies. More about Godhew and other gods under the cut!

Mayhew himself has many Glittergoldian qualities about him -- he's an elusive tale-teller and a sneak, and if you pried his coping mechanism sense of humor from him, he'd probably die on the spot -- so I think he'd get on with Garl Glittergold and Baervan Wildwanderer. Mayhew's not easily flustered, and he'd find it a hoot to be pranked by Garl, so I expect he'd pass any test of character Garl might run an upstart godling through.

Baravar Cloakshadow, god of illusions and deceptions, would be interesting. Mayhew is a born liar (deception is his second-highest skill after history) who cares deeply about protecting others, so on paper they're aligned. However, Baravar counts Mystra among his allies, so this alliance would be a strained one.

But the biggest reason Mayhew isn't interested in becoming a Lord of the Golden Hills? They're concerned primarily with the welfare of gnomes. As a god, Mayhew has broader designs than that.

a god for whom?

Mayhew cares about everyone, especially people who are unimportant. He was a latchkey kid who wandered all over the city from a very young age, poking his nose everywhere it shouldn't be and talking to people just to hear their stories. He probably even made friends with the sewer kobolds, despite historical bad blood between gnomes and kobolds. Most of the alliances Galehew make after ascension are Mayhew's doing. Gale is always grander and more powerful, but Mayhew is better-liked and better-loved by gods and mortals.

In particular, bleeding heart Mayhew is an ally and protector of children. Troublemakers, especially. The most common name he ends up being known by is the Children's God. In 5e, there doesn't actually seem to be a god FOR children, simply gods with "family" as part of their portfolio. To me, that reads as a god for parents. But Mayhew adores kids! In game, he looked out for all of them and spoiled them shamelessly via the barter menu. All the urchins got cash, clothing, trinkets, snacks, protective magical items, etc. He bought soup from Yenna every day. He gave Mattis 2000 gold (����) for a key he never even used (😭)...and gave the amulet of greater health (😭)...and some grenades because all children should have a chance to make bad decisions...

To kids, he's like an imaginary friend who'll help you out of a tight spot, aid your capers, and shield you from terrors. When a child ages out of needing an imaginary friend, he's there as the God of Curiosity -- and what is curiosity without drive? Perhaps they'll follow their dreams in the footsteps of his partner, the God of Ambition. Completely unintentionally, Mayhew probably ensures the longevity of the Galerian religion this way.

Not all of Mayhew's ideals survive ascension, though he goes in with good intentions. He loses some of himself, but his love for people is the core of him. It doesn't change.

[silverskye13]

could I ask how far into building you are when it comes to the uhhh

court of remembrance? was it court? church? order! the order of remembrance lol

how far have you build out how they work, like their common routines/rituals/etc.

I was considering making my hels!oc part of em cause the hermit-adjacent/"original" player version of my sona is really big on documenting things as they have poor memory, and I want that to be something that ties the two together? if that makes sense?

I'm so sorry this got so long. I. Have a lot of fun world building.

My notes on the Order of Remembrance, as cohesively as I can jot them down, below:

Sooo, when I was figuring out hels stuff, the Order of Remembrance [OR for short] kinda turned up as the equivalent of a culture developing an afterlife, in a world where "afterlife" demonstrably doesn't exist. What would you replace with the idea of an eternal spirit/soul, in a world where superstition and religion still exist? What do you cope with? How do you comfort? Who fills the gaps and holes in the community that people slip through, and why? What informs purpose and meaning?

Memory, the importance of remembrance, the idea that you owe it to the people around you to remember they existed, and that existence affected your life. The idea that you, as an individual, can make someone's life matter by celebrating them, mourning them, even hating them. The universe is indifferent. The greatest sin a helsmet can commit is being indifferent as well.

This started the Remembrance Walls, which gave them importance as landmarks and places of spirituality. And any place with importance deserves protection, preservation, and accessibility.

OR probably started as a small neighborhood collective dedicated to preserving the Remembrance Walls. Which turned into being the people who also supplied the bricks made for those walls, and helping people carve them. Which turned into people who would check in with folks in the neighborhood that hadn't been seen in awhile, making sure they were safe, and taking their names down if they were gone. Eventually a collective turns into an organization, and the ritual of that collective turns into a religion. Now there are helsmets who dedicate their lives, or large sums of money and material goods, to the church. In turn, the church gives back to the community in any way they can, because the more people are involved with each other, the more memories they make, the more that can be preserved.

This is also why OR is so big. Successful people in hels want a legacy that's remembered, so you put your name on every landmark in town -- the OR cathedral is a massive landmark. Memory is important [even the most self centered and heinous need purpose and fulfillment] so a lot of people associate themselves with the church in some way or another. Being remembered is a goal for everyone, not just the community minded. The OR will be important until memory stops being important.

The Staff:

Members directly serving the OR in an official capacity are: Priests/clerics [with one presiding Head/High Priest], scribes, clerks, historians, brickmakers, knights [and squires], and one or two paladins. Various members of the official congregation [they consider all of hels their congregation, given everyone deserves to be remembered, but the official congregation are those who actually attend the church services and functions] will also work for the church if they can donate relevant skills -- this is a part of the church's community building. They will seek needs and fill them with skilled individuals within the church or, if they don't have a recommendation, will contact other churches for members of their congregation. If you need a stone mason for a project, a jeweler for a custom piece, or someone to provide wheat for your new bakery, and don't know where to find one, asking at the OR cathedral is a good place to start.

Priests: Deal with the more spiritual and communal aspects of memory and remembrance. The church has divided the city into districts, and every district has at least one priest who regularly attends it, though the church's goal is to have 3 per district. Every district has at least one remembrance wall, and it's the priest's job to know all the names on that wall, as well as to know as many people as they can in their district, so they can do regular check ins on their well-being. They hold services to add new names to their walls, host and organize community events for their districts [plays, cookouts, parties, gatherings, etc]. They don't pray in the traditional sense -- Memory is more of an idea than a true deity -- but their prayers involve memorizing names, events, dates. A lot of priests will write songs and ballads to aid in this, which they will perform for each other or sing at organized events.

Scribes/clerks/historians: Exactly what it says on the tin. Stationed at the church, these guys get down to the brass tacks of putting ink to paper and codifying memory. They keep accurate records of everything from city economics to books written to personal anecdotes, and they guard their work jealously. Transcribing is a job of great importance, and accurate scribes are revered by the church. The OR has been known to pay a small fortune to individuals who can write quickly, accurately and legibly. Most of the statues decorating their cathedral are scribes revered for their dedication to their craft. Historians meanwhile function as both researchers and, to an extent, unintentional journalists, following developments in hels so they can document them as they happen. While the OR doesn't own news or run a newspaper, the handful of newspapers in town are all run by people who either used to work for the OR, or have friends on the OR historical staff.

[It's important to note the historians and clerks aren't detectives or police. They find information and write it down, they do not solve crimes or prosecute criminals. However, their thoroughness and impartiality means they're often called on as witnesses and informants to crimes. They have been attacked before for either sticking their noses in business someone didn't want remembered, or for providing information someone wanted ignored/erased. Their documents hold a lot of weight.]

This division is also in charge of the OR's extensive library. There is one main library in the cathedral, where every collected written work the library can get its hands on exists. They collect everything from journals, to poetry, to fiction writing, to recipe books. Anything written that can be remembered. They also keep transcripts of hymns and songs written by priests and knights, and up to date registries of the names on the remembrance walls. There is a second, public library that is free for hels to access, which contains every copy the scribes have gotten around to making from the main library. They encourage people to make their own copies of the library works they borrow, and can be paid to make specialty copies of popular works.

[Given how hard it is to grow large amounts of paper in hels, most books in the OR collection are written on vellum (hog skin). Almost every off-world smuggler in hels has a regular customer with the OR if they collect paper/sugar cane on their travels. OR has a current project trying to put every book they own on paper (The Nice Copy TM) and every 2nd or 3rd copy of a book on vellum. Only their best scribes are allowed to write paper copies.]

Knights: Knights are a relatively new addition to the OR staff, in that they weren't really needed when hels was small. As hels got bigger, however, and things like vandalism and crime became big and unruly, knights eventually made their way onto the scene, starting as priests with particularly good PVP skills, and eventually graduating to in-house trained fighters. You can still see their priestly roots in their practices. They too are assigned to districts. They too memorize the names on their associated walls and try to make themselves known in the neighborhoods they patrol. Instead of organizing events and focusing on the social aspects, however, they focus on making a safe place for people to live. They aren't police. Unless the crime is strictly related to memory [for example, destruction of stones on the remembrance walls] they don't track people down and drag them off to jail. They do help the community though. They will stop active crimes, they will stay with people who feel unsafe, they break up street fights, they escort their priests in rougher parts of town, they volunteer to clear out mobs that wander into the city, and have even been known to simply help with building projects for people who need a few extra hands around. Because of their generally neutral disposition towards events in hels [they protect individuals and their church, instead of business or gang interests] they are sometimes asked to be conflict mediators for battling factions in the city who are trying to reach a negotiation point. As a whole, the knights can always be found walking in groups of 2-5 on their routes. They're very rarely seen alone.

The Cathedral:

Paladins: Paladins are an enigmatic rarity for OR. Generally speaking, a paladin is a knight or priest of a given order embued with supernatural power by a deity. OR, as a godless religion, shouldn't be able to get them -- and yet sometimes they do manage to pop up. Some people think they're evidence of a Universe that actually does care about hels, sending someone who can literally fight for the rights of people to be remembered. Only a handful of paladins have ever been called, and they seem to coincidentally pop up whenever someone has done great harm to memory: massive destruction of remembrance walls, burning books, intentionally trying to erase someone from history, fraud. Generally they are compelled, like a very angry sleepwalker, to track down whoever was responsible and stop them. Sometimes this entails violence, but more often than not it involves the perpetrator being imprisoned for a very long time by what amounts to a preternaturally knowledgeable lawyer. It is probably from the OR paladins that the rumors first started that, if you angered the OR, they would have you forgotten [who else could strike someone from the memory of the world, than a guardian of memory itself?]. When they're not actively pursuing holy justice, the paladins look and act pretty normal, though their memory skills are uncanny, near perfect, and they have the habit of just Knowing Things they shouldn't be able to -- speaking and reading languages they've never learned, prophetic visions, etc. When they're being compelled to justice, they describe it as being "dreamlike". In the same way in a dream you Know you can fly despite it being untrue in reality, a compelled OR paladin Knows a destruction of memory has happened, and is unable to stop pursuing that destruction until it's been righted. In the moment, paladins describe the feeling as intensely peaceful: the ability to Know and be Sure. The only frustration is when forces actively try to hinder their task. Because of the intensity of their compulsion, they often have to fight to keep up with basic needs, and it's not uncommon for paladins to lose weight, fall into sleep deprived psychosis, and collapse from exhaustion. Paladins released from their compulsion often have to be nursed back to health again, though none yet have expressed regrets about the rough treatments of their bodies. The way they see it, whatever force compelling them has never been human, and therefore doesn't understand the toll it takes on a living body.

As with all paladins in hels, while they're recovering or in between compulsions, they tie a peace knot around their weapon to symbolize their dormancy.

Squires and apprentices: alongside their regular training with their chosen staff and/or clergy, squires and apprentice clerics/scribes/historians work as the general help staff of the cathedral. If errands need running, someone needs contacted, a mantle needs dusted, an odd job needs filled, they're the ones who catch the chores. They also have the very important responsibility of brick making -- or helping with brick making. The cathedral does employ master brick makers, but those brick makers often need extra hands, so every day the squires and apprentices set aside time to make bricks. This is a time of concentration and meditation, and the apprentices are encouraged not to talk during the process. When each batch has finished baking, the master brickmaker working with the group will call an end to the silence. When this ritual started, the ending was a lot more reverent. Over the years though, the brickmakers have taken more joy in their work than solemnity. It's not uncommon for the brickmakers to break the silence with increasingly bad jokes, rewarding the apprentices that laugh first.

The Head/High Priest: The high priest differs from the other priests and clerics by taking on mostly administrative work. They do not work alone. They have a board of 10 priests, clerks and scribes that help keep things balanced. Balance is the high priest's main objective. The OR excels because it stays as neutral as possible in all of hels's affairs. It does its best to owe nothing to anyone, repays all its debts, and doesn't work with one or two of the various hels factions exclusively. Its goal is to remain as uncorrupt as possible in a system rampant with political and financial corruption. Hels is a place full of evil halves and dark mirrors, a lot of very selfish and manipulative people end up in power, so it's a hard line to walk.

The First Church of Hels, also known as the Cathedral of Remembrance, was the first dedicated church erected in hels. It started out much smaller, a netherbrick building with a brickworks in the back for providing stones. As they grew in importance, so too did the building, until eventually the large cathedral was erected. It was a massive effort from many different hels denizens, and almost every room in the cathedral has a place to display the names of contributors to the project, from the people who laid the mosaic tiles to the folks who soldered the stained glass. The original bricks of the first iteration of the church are enshrined as a pathway that leads through the back garden of the building to their new, much more impressive brickworks. These foundational bricks remain empty, and are blanket dedicated to any helsmet who managed to slip through the cracks in society, whose names were forgotten, never known, or never noted.

The cathedral has one main sanctuary where worship and prayer are performed. They have one holy day a week where all their various members, and any congregation who wants to join, gather to sing songs and hymns, poetry and lists. There are meditations done on works written by bygone individuals, studies and philosophies discussed. While the topics of the main service change from week to week, the basic formula of singing/recital, meditation/discussion, singing/recital happens every time. They open and end every service with the list of names added to the walls that week.

During the week, the cathedral plays host to any number of meetings and events. They have many rooms dedicated as spaces for community gatherings, from small clubs for youths to workshops to food drives. People are constantly coming and going from the place.

Because of the church's center as a place of refuge, history and memory -- and by extension, power -- it has no small amount of detractors and enemies. HumanCleo doesn't allow the OR's knights on her turf, in part because of fear of retaliation: if her gangs attack any of the Order, she risks a paladin ripping down her criminal empire brick by brick. The Demon is one of OR's paper suppliers, and has been known to try to corner and intimidate scribes sent to document his shipments. Many of the historians cannot walk the city without an escort. Even their clerks have been scouted by influential merchants who want an expert in numbers looking over their books. Scribes with a particularly steady hand have been harassed and attempted coerced about forging documents and reproducing copies of cursed books. Thieves and vandals have attempted break-ins of their treasury. They have also had to deal with gang fights and general violence at their larger events. This is where their connections with other churches come in handy. Organizations like the Church of Blood and Steel, with knight and paladins who specialize in fighting, are often contacted to help when the OR needs a little more muscle. In return, the OR will loan them use of their scribes, arrange for their monuments to be built at a discount, etc.

The OR has a few loose ties to the Colosseum. All the statues of past champions that line the corridors are designed, drafted and prototyped by OR affiliated builders. Their epitaphs are drafted by their scribes. They have a team of knights whose main job is to attend Colosseum events and study and transcribe fighting styles of the various fighters, so their martial memory isn't lost when they return to the universe. They also record the Colosseum matches, and send a copy of their notes to the showrunners for the use in writing future fighting arcs.

[Also this is just me, but I think there's a writer in hels somewhere that spends all day making serialized literature out of the Colosseum matches, and submits them to the newspaper for people to read after a match. They probably also are very grateful for the OR's Colosseum notes lol].

I think! That's! Everything! I can think of! Though I'm sure I'll remember something else in an hour! Oh well!

[mangora]

Have ROTI cast brain rot so here are my favorite facts from their character bios:

•Anne Maria used to work at a clothing store

•Brick’s favorite movie is M.A.S.H., which is an anti-war film

•Cameron speedrun: he isn’t allowed to listen to music, one of his favorite colors is purple, he’s only left the house alone once but he does go to school (mentions that he forgot his lunch), and he brings up butterflies multiple times. Oh to study this guy

•Dakota was in pageants as a kid

•Dawn likes Celtic new-age music (brings up a parody of Enya Brennan) and her favorite movie is The Craft. She also wants to be a historian. And she controls her own dreams. Once again I need to study this guy

•Jo’s favorite movie is Charlie’s Angels

•Lightning doesn’t have any embarrassing memories

•Mike says he has a bad memory and can’t remember his dreams. He also has a hard time recalling memories throughout the interview

•Vito mentions having an Uncle Vinnie and Manitoba mentions having a wife; whether Vinnie and the wife are real people or not is unclear, but I’m inclined to believe that Manitoba’s wife is not

•Sam wants to be a game developer

•Scott likes Kanye West. He also talks about making his parents argue, guilting his neighbors into buying lemonade, and being embarrassed about cooperating with someone. He also likes whittling and wants to be a CEO. God he’s such a bastard

•Staci’s favorite band is Simple Plan. She also repeatedly references lying in her biography and how much she hates liars, which is really interesting considering how she’s obviously lying about her family. She also worked in a hair salon before and wants to work in forensics. Girl you are so tragic help. Also her aunt’s name is Mildred and Richard Nixon is canon in the TD universe

•Zoey says she gets along with everyone, which, considering how she didn’t have friends before TD, is either a lie or her coping. She also likes tutoring, her favorite band is a mix of The Beatles and The Turtles, and her dream date is going on tour with a band (Zoey’s the closest we have to a 1D Wattpad girl in the TD universe)

•Brick, Lightning, and Sam’s dream dates are all with men so jot that down

[qqueenofhades]

thank you for your post i’m doing my best to stay informed on the conflict and i’m very young. i feel guilty being quiet as i understand to uplift voices helps prevent their silencing but this has lead me to not critically think about what i’m spreading

it’s been a long month. i’m only a kid and watching the world go to shit like this has been awful, I always wondered how millennials who lived through post nine eleven imperialism coped and god i’m still not sure how.

I am as a white gentile in a position of privilege and mostly my own person is unaffected by the uptick in violence and evil in the world right now. But my friends who i see every day are in more danger due to this conflict and i feel awful that i cannot ever fully understand or fix the deaths of people.

Right now I’m being a bit too reactionary. I’m doing my best but in the end I am not immune to fearmongering and propoganda, especially in these last couple sleepless weeks.

So thank you and everyone who is keeping level heads and desconstructing what’s happening. I’m sorry and i strive to be better. Thank you.

To anyone living in fear right now i’m so sorry. I will listen when you speak.

Once again I just want to say that I am a busy and uninformed student, and I wish that i had more teachers and authority figures that had objective facts to tell me. It’s suffocating to have fake news everywhere but feel powerless if you don’t know anything

it’s ok if you don’t respond to this

Thank you for your post

Thanks for this message and for taking the time to put it into words and to reflect on your own actions and rhetoric. It takes a lot of courage and self-awareness to admit that you were wrong and that you want to do better, and I'm not going to rip into you or blame you or otherwise shame you for it. So I hope this gives you the confidence to read on without feeling like you'll be raked over the coals for it, and open you to hear some ideas for doing things differently.

First, I do have a ton of sympathy for you as a young person who feels overwhelmed and exhausted by all the evil in the world, and is wondering how to get through it, react to it, or otherwise make some kind of moral response in the face of this soul-crushing trauma. I will say here that I am a little bit older than your average Tumblr user (the majority of this site is in their early-mid twenties), I do personally remember 9/11 and its aftermath when a lot of people here weren't even born yet, and I am an academic historian with a doctorate. That does not mean I am better or smarter or More Perfect or whatever at what I say, but it means that I do have a considerable amount of institutional, formal, and professional practice at analyzing a lot of complex information, putting it into words, breaking it down for less-specialist audiences, pointing out logical fallacies, and so forth.

That is not a skill that everyone has, and in the face of nonstop 24-hour news-cycle social media information overload, it can be incredibly difficult to parse it or understand how you're supposed to respond to it or what your moral obligation in response to this knowledge might be. I wrote this ask the other day in response to someone else asking how to improve their critical thinking skills and be more discerning about what they understood, shared, and analyzed. I strongly encourage you to read it, as it addresses a lot of what you're saying about feeling negative, depressed, panicked, angry, and all the other emotions that are naturally evoked in you from reading this stuff nonstop and feeling like the only thing you can (or should) do is immerse your brain in it at all times. In short, that is absolutely the worst environment to do actual substantial analysis or critical thinking, and it is designed so on purpose.

It has been said before, but it bears repeating: the human brain simply is not designed to be constantly aware of all the atrocities in the world and thus (thanks to social media) feeling as if the only way they can do anything about it is to then post the Correct Opinions on social media (regardless of whether these are informed or relevant or otherwise useful). Especially now, the rush to demonstrate Correct Thinking has warped a lot of otherwise well-meaning young people into becoming eager disinformation mouthpieces. There are a TON of explicitly bad-faith actors and far-right fascists who are posting pro-Palestine content (factual or uh, otherwise) because they know that's an instant way to get an audience of said young left-leaning people who will then be suckered into and exposed to their far more dangerous content and mindset, because that is how radicalization works. Even in the support of an obviously worthy cause, you and everyone else ARE NOT IMMUNE to fearmongering, disinformation, and virulently anti-Semitic propaganda, especially when it's being eagerly and constantly offered in a deliberate attempt to radicalize you further into violence and conspiracy theories, turn you against other vulnerable groups and people, and explicitly disengage you from the electoral/political process, which will harm the Democrats and other liberal establishment parties in favor of more far-right radical fascist theocrats and otherwise make everything, everywhere, many orders of magnitude worse.

I know the feeling that you need to do something, and since you're a long way from the conflict, it seems as if posting on social media is the best and/or the only way to go about it. In that environment, and especially right now, you will make mistakes. I know it is difficult in an online environment where popularity or acceptance by your peers often rests on never being wrong about anything (i.e. saying the same thing everyone else is saying), but it always helps to think about what you're doing, what you're saying, and if you actually need the approval of people who are conditioning you, implicitly or explicitly, into negative and violent ideological nihilism.

The hardest thing to understand is that yes, there is a lot of terrible shit going on in the world; no, you cannot personally fix it and you have to accept that as a limitation; yes, there are many multiple and complex causes and reasons for its existence and there is almost never a black-and-white simplistic moral solution that just hasn't been magically implemented yet; yes, it is always worth it to take the time to inform yourself and consider what you're saying, where it comes from, who it helps and who it hurts, and why you feel the need to say it in the first place. Of course you want to help. Of course you want to stop the needless suffering and death that has gone on in the world for millennia and unfortunately, as long as humans are humans, will continue to do so. But even so, take it away Gandalf:

[merrivia]

Thinking today about Damen, trauma and the symbolic use of water in Captive Prince...

I was talking to @zumurruds about this, and she mentioned that we understand Laurent’s trauma as readers, but that Damen’s trauma can seem elusive to us. Which is very true, and got me to thinking about how these things might work in terms of Damen’s psyche as constructed by Pacat, especially taking into consideration Akielos is a version of Ancient Greece (with some Roman influences).

Edward Tick is a fairly influential psychotherapist in the field of trauma, especially post-traumatic stress and how it affects soldiers, and he has particularly looked at Ancient Greek rituals (and other classical and indigenous practices!) for answers as to how to heal the psychic wounds of conflict.

Firstly, this is a nice overview of some of Tick’s ideas:

“[Tick’s] argument is that in classical and native American tradition, serving as a warrior was an archetypal experience characterized by initiation of young men and, then, later, rituals of purification and cleansing that help them to undergo a sort of psycho-spiritual re-birthing process and return to civilian life, not just as civilians, but as individuals who’ve gone through a profound transformation. And that transformation was acknowledged by the wider society.”

Some (not all) of these “rituals of purification and cleansing” are literally ones that use water. And I think this can maybe helps us to understand more deeply the use of water in the novels and how it connects to trauma (Damen’s in particular).

More after the jump:

Before going into more depth I will say one thing. I think the reason Damen has coped well with being a soldier, has a lot to do with his initiation into warriorhood in Akielos. 

When it comes to war, specific rites and training would transform you psychologically. As Tick says:

“The study of worldwide mythology and the work of historians, anthropologists, and archaeologists show us that cultures in almost all times and places have deemed it necessary to have a warrior class of citizens. The formula is simple: the preparation is specialized training; the proving ground is battle. Risking death for the protection of one’s people transforms a boy into a warrior. Successful completion of the transformation makes him a man.”

What this does to you then is accelerate growing up. Interesting inversion there, as the Regent tries to keep the adult Laurent a child, and child Damen would have been thrust into adulthood early. Did that damage Damen? Depends on your perspective (I think yes and no), but it certainly gave him strength and resilience.

There is an interesting, revealing moment of Damen’s, when he has been flogged and still finds the wherewithal to speak back to Laurent:

“He felt raw, as though a protective outer layer had been stripped away; the problem was that what had been exposed was not weakness but core metal.”

“Core metal”. That’s what lies at the heart of Damen, even with the warmth of his heart. 

Tick then quotes the philosopher William James:

“War and adventure assuredly keep all who engage in them from treating themselves too tenderly. They require such incredible effort, depth beyond depth of exertion . . . that the whole scale of motivation alters. Discomfort and annoyance, hunger and wet, pain and cold, squalor and filth cease to have any deterrent operation whatever. Death turns into a commonplace matter. . .”

Damen has gone through all this; this is what forged that “core metal” in him. He is a warrior, in a militaristic society. He understands well what it is like to have courage against death and to physically endure discomfort and physical pain. I think this is why he is able to take his circumstances as a slave in Vere, and survive. Every time Damen is hurt, he compares it to his training or to his past experiences, and simply withstands it, as he knows he got through it before. He endures and endures. Even the flogging. That is what warriors do; it was what he was trained to do.

This is one of the reasons his trauma is hidden away from us; at first, Damen seems to just cope with it.

The idea of warriors, too, is so different to modern soldiers, where I think a lot of our contemporary ideas around trauma come from.

Damen has killed on the “sawdust”, suggesting he has accidentally killed when training, and he has killed in battle. He also killed Auguste. The weight of those deaths were expiated somewhat by his role- he was not shamed but made elevated by them; when he returned from Marlas, he was honoured and given a hero’s welcome. Some of the trauma Tick describes modern soldiers go through, comes from them being shoved to one side and forgotten about. 

Interestingly, another aspect of the trauma around modern soldiers, is the impersonal nature of killing. As Tick says:

In its ancient and ritual forms, warfare was often personal. Enemy combatants often knew each other by name, and the victor’s status was partly based upon the status of the enemy he had defeated. Homer’s Iliad records numerous tales of individual combat between contending champions whose families, histories, and reputations were well known to each other. But modern war is impersonal. Whom you fight, what their battle experience and status in their culture is, and how they are armed are all matters of chance.

Though we may think knowing who Auguste was makes it worse, from Tick’s perspective it is better. It becomes a matter of personal combat, a duel of honour- it is essentially meaningful. Damen fought Auguste to help end the battle, and symbolically, it was two princes fighting for victory. There is no disgrace or evil in that.

The problem comes with Laurent and with spending time in Vere, where Damen is no longer seen as a hero-warrior but a villain- someone immoral and shameful. One of the first things Laurent does to Damen in the baths is (very unfairly) make him feel ashamed for killing, and Damen has to protest and say it was “battle” and that “there were deaths on both sides” (which is true- Laurent conveniently forgets all the people Auguste would have killed on the Akielon side). That is a lot of what Damen has to battle through psychologically during the novel. He has no words to describe what he’s going through, was not trained for this, and again, this is why his trauma remains hidden to us. 

In normal circumstances also, after he had been freed, Damen would have returned home, and would go through a process of restoration there that would help him process the trauma he went through in Vere. But by falling in love with Laurent and tying himself to him, Damen is forever in a liminal state- he cannot return home, as the two countries are one which the two kings will rule together, and he is always going to be both lover and brother-killer (he now carries the guilt of killing his brother-in-law, not an enemy prince). This contradiction needs to be resolved.

Additionally, what happened to him in Vere did not carry the honour of battle. Damen could not fight back. It was pure victimisation. That is also where the trauma lies, as well having to process how Laurent is both lover and torturer (Laurent also, needs to confront this, and what he did to Damen).

So let’s talk about water.

There is a symbolic weight that water always carries in texts- life and rebirth, purification and cleansing, rejuvenation and destruction, amongst many other things. But when considering water’s cleansing and restorative processes in conjunction with classical ideas of healing and surviving trauma, I think it becomes even more interesting.

The books abound with water. The trilogy starts with Damen in baths at Akielos, and ends the same way, a deliberately cyclical structure. A rebirth. Damen and Laurent bathe frequently; sometimes this leads to violence, such as the flogging, and sometimes it is cleansing.

However, it is The Summer Palace where the richest, most definitive moment of water is symbolically used.

In the short story, Pacat shows this complex interplay between past and present; of all of what lies between Laurent and Damen. There is no forgetting of the killing of Auguste or of Kastor, or of the flogging. The two move between deep romantic desire and discussions of their painful past, fluidly.

Another quotation from Tick feels resonant here:

Ironically, doing violence to another can be a profoundly intimate act. Larry, a captain in Viet Nam, said his life’s most intimate encounter had been when staring into the eyes of a North Vietnamese officer as they grappled, their hands locked around each other’s throats. Many veterans who have survived hand-to-hand combat talk about the erotic nature of the death struggle. The violence of battle can thus constitute a kind of reverse intimacy. 

There is that strange irony at work with what happens between Damen and Laurent. Laurent, so damaged and isolated and cut off from others, first becomes close to Damen through the intimate act of violence- that’s why it’s important that he sits in front of Damen, close to him, and watches him as he is flogged in CP. It’s why Laurent deliberately baits Damen into hitting him in PG, by telling Damen Kastor killed Theomedes- afterwards his eyes are described as “glittering with triumph” as “his lips are smeared with blood” (a highly disturbing kiss with a fist, which he engineered). It’s why when they fight one another in the training room in KR, it is an important part of the carthasis they must go through in order to truly become lovers. Through violence is physical contact and those moments cut down the walls Laurent has built around himself. 

But there are of course, huge consequences for that. 

Damen admits he has not allowed himself to acknowledge much of what happened to him, particularly at the hands of Laurent. A lot remains behind a “closed door”. Yet what has been locked away must start to be acknowledged, for healing to take place. And this is done through water.

The idea that soldiers be purified when returning from war exists in many different cultures and has been practiced for centuries, including in Rome where “vestal virgins would bathe returning soldiers to purge them of the corruption of war”. For the Greeks, water in general was healing. What I think is interesting is how Pacat has (intentionally?) rewoven these strands of healing that comes from Ancient Greek culture and incorporated it into the texts. Water rituals restore and spiritually cleanse those who suffer harm- hydrotherapy of sorts. A lot of this, appears to be through gods and through dreams, water that is blessed that then touches the psyche. 

This is how Tick describes such processes:

The mysterious process behind the whole tradition was called "temple sleep" or "incubation." Those in need of healing, from the highest to the humblest levels of society, cast off the garments of their roles in the outer world, bathed ceremonially and donned white robes, and presented themselves to the therapeutes, the first "therapists," the healing priests of the temple of Asklepios..... The god was believed to visit the supplicant through a dream, or in his theriomorphic (animal-shaped) form, as a snake or a dog. Through the theophany itself (the apparition of the god) or through one of the first "prescriptions"—for instance, "after fasting for three days, the supplicant should immerse himself in the pool of Parthenius, though it be winter, and pray to Artemis"—the healing would come. 

So with no temples, gods or priests, Pacat finds an alternative.

Laurent bathing Damen, in the baths of Lentos. 

It is a restoration for them both. By doing so, Laurent is putting himself into the position of a slave (giving himself the role enforced onto Damen, an eye for an eye), putting his pride to one side (kneeling, an act he also finds difficult due to trauma) and, most importantly, confronting the consequences of his actions in having Damen flogged nearly to death. 

When Laurent washes the scars on Damen’s back, it is a transformative moment:

Nothing could wash away the past, but this took them both there, touching a painful truth, acknowledging it. 

It was gentler between his shoulders than it had been against his chest. Flesh and self were linked. The cleansing was slow, attentive, drizzling water, then soaping his skin. It was healing something he hadn’t known needed to be healed. Like breathing, it was necessary, even as the tenderness of it was too much, gentleness where he had never expected Laurent to be gentle. 

He had been braced against the lash for so long. Where he had been flayed, he was now open.

I would argue, with the absence of gods, there is only Damen and Laurent’s love, which exists as something higher, sacred, perhaps even numinous. It is a stand in for divine power, which is perhaps even more meaningful. Their love allows them that healing and rebirth, and allows them access to something higher than can move them forward. Perhaps that will keep being a journey that they do together, but it starts with this, with symbolic purification through water, and with the healing not just Laurent, but Damen, desperately needed.

Bibilography:

War and the Soul: Healing Our Nation's Veterans from Post-tramatic Stress Disorder, Edward Tick

Warrior's Return: Restoring the Soul After War, Edward Tick

The Practice of Dream Healing: Bringng Ancient Greek Mysteries into Modern Medicine, Edward Tick

[spiderbitesandvampirevenom]

How do you cope? As I’ve become more educated on Islam through studying Indonesia, I see so much more islamaphobic bullshit. That plus the fact that it’s so much more common with how Israel is being rn. You’re a historian of Muslim art and stuff, how do you cope with your classmates and media just saying the stupidest fucking things you’ve ever heard?

well, i no longer have to worry about classmates since i graduated, and i try as hard as i can not to consume media that talks about islam unless i know it's not gonna give me a bunch of orientalist crap. im also lucky enough to be mostly surrounded by people who either are normal and sane about muslims and islamic history/art/etc. or at least sensible enough to keep their bullshit to themselves. most of my news about the gaza genocide comes from my muslim acquaintances so luckily i stay insulated from the zionist shit for the most part.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Actually, you know what? To hell with it. I am soft with Zionists here. Because as a Jew and a historian of Jewish history, I understand the very specific cultural and trauma-informed place those views are coming from, and I want to work with these members of my community mindfully and compassionately.

No one will ever unlearn or think critically about their beliefs if you scream FUCK OFF ZIONISTS DNI ZIONISTS NO ZIONISTS ALLOWED. Moreover, that messaging will make non-Zionist Jews have a hard time trusting you, while pushing Zionists further into defensive politicking. Do what you want on your own blog, but I'm not bound by your praxis, and there's no place for it here.

Palestinians, Israeli Arabs, and individuals with those identities are welcome here. We are not enemies, YOU are not my enemies, and of all the groups who have been rude to me as I carry out this work, it's never included any of you. I would suggest, however, that if you're actively coping with trauma and loss as a direct result of Israeli State and/or military policy, that this might not be the right place for you; I work with (primarily) US American Zionists to assist them in unpacking their trauma-induced reactions, unlearning, and relearning our pasts, and that process could be traumatic for you to witness in real time. And you shoudn't have to! For all the historic trauma my people are coping with, y'all didn't have anything to do with it.

Anyone who doesn't like how I perform this work as it is asked of me may unfollow. And, regardless of your religion, nationality, ethnic identity, etc. I will not tolerate rudeness and abusive speech towards myself or others in my intellectual space.

Here is some reading material: The Holocaust and the Nakba: A New Grammar of Trauma and History.

[spot-the-antisemitism]

(This is a frustrated vent.)

In the middle of reading my U.S. government textbook last night, I came across an outright maddening statement about Western European civilization (brought up because the dominant U.S. culture comes primarily from there) being rooted in 'Judeo-Christian' ethics. For clarity, I'm not Jewish. For all practical intents and purposes, I'm still a Christian. So my apologies if I say something out of place or inappropriate. I've still got much to learn.

I've been trying to stay informed about antisemitism, and I cringed so hard when I saw that (so far, the only off thing in the book that I could tell). I have something of a temper at times, and I had to find myself an adorable cat video fast to cool back down before I could continue reading. And of course, this is a required class for me because I'm a history student. At least, for what it's worth, I've developed better coping skills. But the propaganda runs so, so deep.

It will be 'interesting' to see how things go as the semester goes on. So far, the class has been alright. But it's only two weeks in. I just don't know who I can easily talk to without hitting a wall of some kind. Because despite what I think of my own knowledge being kind of the basics, I still end up knowing more than average compared to most people around me. I kind of hate that, but I also know it's just part of me being adamant about historical accuracy and my pride as a nerd, on top of dealing with the cultural propaganda. Is what it is, though, and I'm trying to get used to it as a future historian/whatever. I just keep forgetting not everyone enjoys studying simply on the principle of learning all you possibly can, and that's on me.

Dear anon,

thank you for your vent

Judeo-christian is a normalized supperceisionist dogwhistle that could mean the rest of your textbook is normal

I too distract myself from my bad textbooks with cat pictures

take heart and please write back,

Cecil

[californiannostalgia]

Vox Machina is the most extraordinary group that Exandrian historians of their age will record, but what's striking about them is that these extraordinary individuals' personal struggles were not extraordinary at all.

How do you deal with the pain of growing into a different path from your twin? How do you cope with the loss of your family? Do you run from those who profess to care for you? Do you think about the people who ran away from you, in the dark of night? How do you love knowing you will be alive to see them die? How do you process the unwanted legacy your parents have left in you?

How do you grow from this? How do you change? What do you choose as your heart, who do you choose for your love? How do you say goodbye knowing you will have to leave, knowing you will have to stay?

Really, the only extraordinary thing about them might've been how they answered the question: What do you do when an undefeatable enemy is razing your world?--and that the entire continent was there to witness their answer.

Fame is a strange thing. History, legacy--the mythology of you outgrows you. The details of your memory humanize you and your friends, but how long would that last, really?

One day you will be older than the sphinx who told you about your planet's apocalypse. Will history remember how your best friend had the dryest sense of humor? Will his clock tower still stand, with you memorialized on its face alongside others who are now gone? It would certainly be apt, seeing as how a part of you has passed into history with them and become lost to you now.

It is a strange thing, to be a legend. To have your name and actions hammered into the bedrock of cities that have stood unbroken for centuries. Your name is a certainty in the background of everyday life: The Divergence, the Calamity, the Dragons and Colossus and the heroes called Vox Machina. Schoolyard rhymes, lullabies, the effigies and murals that paint you beautifully.

You think you can fathom the loneliness of your lover's patron now.

[ani-antiquities]

The Melancholic Woman: Eva Hesse, Ennead (1965), and Trauma, De-strung

(source: ICA Boston)

I will open this essay with a line from art historian, Anne M. Wagner’s essay, Another Hesse, on her journal October, vol. 69 – wherein she writes of our subject, American sculptor Eva Hesse:

Hesse’s self-scrutiny, we learn once again, is a means of coping with “environment” – with the inheritance of the past. But it is also the measure – even the proud badge – of her “difference”, the difference, we remember, of being an artist. (p. 131)

Anne M. Wagner’s essay on Eva Hesse will be one of the main sources of this paper.

Here, we will be able to trace Eva Hesse’s art and its asymbolia to the artist’s melancholia and her journey of sublimation and working through. We will also thereby arrive at more questions to ponder Hesse’s life, and inquire about the connections among art, melancholia, and the semiotic – and possibly ponder a perspective that ties the end-goal of these Kristevan concepts together.

(Before I go on, I just wanna say that this essay may draw on similarities EVA HESSE: POST-MINIMALISM INTO SUBLIME, by Robert Pincus-Witten. I wrote this specific essay more than a year ago for my Cultural, Literary, and Critical Theory class, and I only found this essay just today, as I am writing and doing more research for this piece. LOL. However, I would like to justify that the content of my essay is to draw connections between Hesse’s art and Kristeva’s psychoanalytic theory. I did enjoy Witten’s essay, though!)

(Source: pbs.org)

Eva Hesse

At the height of Nazi Germany, Hesse’s family fled to America for protection from religious persecution, but it was not long until sanctuary proved to be fickle as well, in the land of the free. Due to trauma implicated by the Second World War that vehemently caused the deaths of Hesse’s extended family, the serious circumstances of (Eva Hesse’s mother) Ruth Marcus House’s bipolar disorder worsened. These events dominoed to Wilhelm Hesse’s divorce from Ruth Marcus, and Ruth’s suicide. Adding salt to the wound, Wilhelm would marry a woman named Eva. Upon the new marriage, the young girl and her step-mother would share the same name.

Identity crisis aggravated young Eva’s trauma – from the persecution of family whose faces she had never known, to losing her to suicidal mother at ten. It seemed like grief was her very being.

Graduating from Yale, she exhibited works whose style displayed that of Abstract Expressionism and paved the way for Minimalism.

Art historians speculate how these traumas were sublimated into her art. Her self-portraits showcase distorted images of faces and figures. They are almost like a child’s attempt at creating a figure painting, except that their tone is so somber that only an adult can express such a feeling.

(Untitled, 1965, oil on canvas: From: mutualart.com)

However, the most intriguing work of Hesse does not come from two-dimensions – but three. This includes Hesse’s sculpture, Ennead (1965).

(Ennead, 1965, oil on canvas. From: icaboston.org)

Eva Hesse’s Ennead (1965)

All that there is to the piece: acrylic, paper mache, some resin-coated strings, plywood, some plastic, and a title possibly referencing the Egyptian pantheon.

The Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, describes the artwork as such:

The orderly, formulaic application of the threads devolves into an increasingly chaotic composition as they accumulate and tangle toward the floor. A few strands are affixed to the adjacent wall, cordoning off a wedge of space that becomes part of the sculpture itself. This gesture also draws the viewer’s attention to the corner of the gallery, activating this normally overlooked area. Additional material hangs to touch the floor, thus uniting three planes. “Ennead” means a group of nine, in this case referring to the nine points from which the strings extend.

How can we interpret art whose surface presence is devoid of any points from its meaning? Baroque art can be so interpreted by its gargantuan number of details that fit on a four-cornered canvas. Poetry can be dissected among its metaphors, language, and enjambments. How can we possibly describe a sculpture so bare of material and overly abstract in its form? Was it meant to be this way – stripped down and bare?

Asymbolia and Melancholia

Many of Hesse’s works portray a distinct use of asymbolia, and the stimulation of asymbolia to its audience.

It is impossible to speak of Ennead without speaking about Hesse – primarily because Hesse and her art are one. Hesse even says: “My life and art have not been separated. They have been together.”

Ennead is no exception – however, with absolutely little to no “initial and final'' interpretation of meaning when you see the sculpture. What can we then say about Eva Hesse through the piece? Even art historians themselves, up to this day, consider Ennead to be an enigma on its own – its minimalism minimizes itself, to the point of devoiding any meaning, making us doubt if there is any at all.

First, we must discuss the asymbolia in Ennead – the art itself. Though by instinct and intuition, the substance of Ennead is uninhabited on its own, I would like to shed a few pointers on the piece and its asymbolia through its deliberate absurdity.

The strings were meant to be orderly at first, until its tail-end, wherein Hesse describes them as a jungle. Hesse even took in the effort to dye the strings to possibly add more aesthetic depth to them. Hesse describes the process of this piece in one of her journals.

The further it went toward the ground, the more chaotic it got; the further you got from the structure, the more it varied. I've always opposed content to form or just form to form. (Quoted in L. R. Lippard, op. cit., p. 62)

However, even when Hesse describes her decision to irrationalize the hinds of the strings, the art still talks gravel to the path towards the most inane question: What does it mean?

So, we shall secondly address the audience’s confusion, that stems from the asymbolia of the audience themselves – the very inability to attach any familiarity or meaning to the symbols the art presents, because of the very fact that it lacks anything.

The only thing that makes sense of Hesse’s art is nonsense – the asymbolia found in Hesse’s art, that stems from dissecting, stripping down, and representing her trauma. Hesse states in one of her interviews: “There is no abstract art. You must always start with something… A painter paints to unload himself of feelings and vision.”

Must her own “something” be from her depression – from the trauma of losing her mother, identity, and other factors throughout?

We take the theory behind this inquiry from Julia Kristeva’s illustration of asymbolia and melancholia in her book, Black Sun – “The negation of that fundamental loss opens up the realm of signs for us, but the mourning is often incomplete. Melancholia then ends up in asymbolia, in loss of meaning…” (p.42).

Hence, to study the bare Ennead is to study Hesse’s bare melancholia.

We may never have the opportunity to bear witness to Hesse’s trauma, as only she and herself can live it, so we turn to her journals,

Throughout her life, Hesse seems to be on good terms with working through with her depression, as she sublimates it with her art – if it means going against the conventions imposed on her by four-cornered dimensions of papers and canvases, and the one-platform norm of past sculptures (Ennead takes up two adjacent walls, and thereby two dimensions).

Asymbolia and the neglect of the pre-conceived semiotic can be seen in her journals – which instead of letters and intelligible words, consist of drawings that penetrate any dividers and lines.

Kristeva furthermore explains this psychoanalytic mechanism as she illustrates the control of the preverbal in aesthetic creation: “When the struggle between imaginary creation (art, literature) and depression is carried out precisely on that frontier of the symbolic and the biological we see indeed that the narrative or the argument is ruled by primary processes” (p.65) – explaining the subnormality of Hesse’s art and entries, and how the manifestations of obscurity stem from the mere struggle of Hesse’s melancholia.

(Figure 3: Hesse’s journal. From: sugarcandymtn.com)

Other than these, her excerpts write of her own feelings of depression and anxiety: “I must write, my sanity is involved. I cry and cry, the pages are wet. I have no one, to go to and the edge of hysteria and insanity is not far apart” (October 19, 1964).

Anne M. Wagner writes: “Anyone who wants to make a serious contribution to remembering Hesse will likewise have to speak about a wound. For what is striking about Hesse’s art is its utter inwardness, with artistic languages of the day: her imagery and effects are not learned by rote, only to be parroted back more or less unchanged” (p. 159)

With this: Must her melancholia still be the root of her asymbolic art? Or was this art a testament to her ability to self-scrutinize all along? Furthermore, will there be anything to self-scrutinize when there is no trauma?

Conclusion: The Futile Point of Interpretation

Hesse intended her work to be autobiographical, but never understood – and thus reflecting the paradox of identity: to know, but never understand. Even her journals were not meant for the purpose of understanding: “Hesse’s journals and their users have meant that it is no longer possible for viewers “not to know the artist” – or at least, not to feel they know her, and to prepare themselves accordingly when looking at her art.”

Yet, even when we have read Hesse’s journals, watched documentaries, and studied countless journals from art historians – the impossibility to fully understand still looms over her audience. So then we ask the question: What should we feel to know of Hesse? The illness caused by both personal and socio-economic circumstances of her time? Must her works be cursed with the fallacy of perpetually being tied to her trauma.

On Dostoevsky, Kristeva writes: “Works of art thus lead us to establish relations with ourselves and others that are less destructive, more soothing.” Hesse’s artifacts are therefore not records of her mania, but documentations of her survival from it. Her illness, therefore, is not what should be reflected of her life – but her sisyphean triumph over it.

Maybe it is for the better – as the point of art itself is to sublimate the traumatic aggression of the artist, and (like a monster) to never let it out of the cage of the canvas. Kristeva can even attest to this, saying: “Art seems to point to a few devices that bypass complacency and, without simply turning mourning into mania, secure for the artist the connoisseur a sublimatory hold over the lost Thing” (p. 97)

Hesse did this concealment well, so much so that it is said the artist herself might not have realized this. As Wagner would write: “If Hesse’s life did enter her art, it did so by a process that Hesse herself was in a position to describe. We would be looking for ways (Hesse’s unconscious) repeatedly configured. I think such imagery exists in Hesse’s art, and I take it to concern the artist’s feelings toward her mother above all” (p. 165) So much so, that even daring to question the trauma behind Hesse’s art, we do not only turn a blind eye to the artist herself, but arrive at a futile destination when we do: “Yet, in asking them [questions on Hesse’s art] we risk losing sight of the workings of Hesse’s unconscious – a notion that, after all, was the motivating impulse of this discussion. But the artist and her unconscious are not far away.” (p. 173)

Conclusion

I will close with another one of Wagner’s concluding lines:

“To claim that Hesse’s art aims to remember and express a common human quality or experience is not the same as attributing to it some universal force or purpose. It gives its own account of that experience.” (p. 186)

This aim of art is reminiscent to how beauty sublimates melancholia in the form of art, much like giving its own account of an experience. Kristeva writes:

“Beauty emerges as the admirable face of loss, transforming it in order to make it live. Melancholia to the point of becoming interested in the life of signs, beauty may also grab hold of us to bear witness for someone who grandly discovered the royal way through which humanity transcends the grief of being apart.”

(p. 100)

Hesse’s journey as an artist is proof that asymbolia – another result of melancholia – paves the way into sublimation. Art is therefore not rooted in the melancholic, its her way of forging a path deeper underneath it. Art is agency from the trial of inner-disagency. Art is therefore the artist’s most individual and subjective struggle, not of her depression, but one of working through. Precisely through this art, we unlock the beauty sculpted from the marble of melancholia. Hesse and Ennead are just among the myriad of melancholic beauty in the realm of art.

SOURCES

Kristeva Julia. Black Sun : Depression and Melancholia. Columbia University Press 1989. https://archive.org/details/blacksun00juli. Accessed 27 Feb. 2023.

Artincontext. “Eva Hesse - The Brief Life and Incredible Works of Eva Hesse the Artist.” Artincontext.org, 4 Apr. 2022, https://artincontext.org/eva-hesse/.

Branaman, Bianca. “Love - Eva Hesse.” Sugar Candy Mountain, Sugar Candy Mountain, 4 Sept. 2018, https://sugarcandymtn.com/blogs/the-brand/love-eva-hesse.

“Ennead.” EVA HESSE, https://www.christies.com/en/lot/lot-315751.

“Ennead.” Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, https://www.icaboston.org/art/eva-hesse/ennead.

Evemy, Benjamin Blake, et al. “Auctions, Exhibitions & Analysis for +500K Artists.” MutualArt, MutualArt, 17 Feb. 2023, https://www.mutualart.com/.

“The Sickness of Being Disallowed: Premonition and Insight in the 'Artist's Sketchbook'.” O A R, https://www.oarplatform.com/sickness-disallowed-premonition-insight-artists-sketchbook/.

[edwad]

If you had to pick one book to give background on the political economy Capital is criticizing would you suggest Rubin's History of Economic Thought? Any major issues you have with it? Also wonder what you think of Catherine Colliot-Thélène's claim in the afterword that: "If the ‘naturalness’ of economic laws is definitely illusory, the critique of political economy must deny the very existence of the object of political economy"?

rubin's history is written from a pretty sophisticated/defensible marxian perspective so it definitely has a lot going for it in that regard, but that is also its primary limit because it treats marx as the chief authority on the history of economic thought. this might be helpful for thinking through marx's project as he understood it, but it's not as good when it comes to taking a step back and estimating marx's performance by any other standard (eg 100 years of HET scholarship since rubin's text, 150 years since marx's, etc)

as far as the afterword goes, this message pushed me to take another look at it. i tried to read it a few years ago and found it basically indecipherable lmfao but this time it was pretty easy sailing so im not sure if im just more comfortable with the language now or what but it seemed to hit a lot similar notes to the kinds of things ive said here. it is very clearly indebted to a lot of the same post-althusserian stuff that ive been talking about (MCCT is cited approvingly several times and really seems to be the chief text that colliot-thélène is working with), so im sympathetic to some of the broad stroke theoretical problems being posed, but i would quibble with some of the assumptions at play.

she acknowledges the changes to marxs plans for the CoPE and even some of the theoretical transformations, but i think she draws too generously from the pre-capital marx of the grundrisse and the 59 contribution (or sometimes even further back to his work in the 40s!). there are both valuable texts for illuminating certain elements of marxs work/thinking, but you have to be careful in how you use these texts to make claims about marxs later work. she also has a tendency to hone in on the word "equilibrium" which comes out of the secondary material she's working with (namely MCCT) and not from marx, which then turns into her spending a lot of time hammering on about marxian equilibrium that i think is less textually justifiable than she believes, although it's crucial to her argument. how this bleeds into the stuff on "capital in general" is especially confusing because, as she notes, rosdolsky is probably right to believe that this approach to the object is dropped by marx (so why does this get held against him here?) etc etc.

regardless, it has an obvious family resemblance to the species of critique im working through, because she shares the same concern over the object of critique itself, but it is much narrower and i think too bogged down in categories which more properly belong to 20th century economics and the particular style of post-sraffian ricardo interpretation which dominated the minds of intellectual historians in CSE circles around the time she wrote this.

the result is that i think she misses the mark in pretty important ways, even if i think the conceptual difficulties of marxs categories are worth pointing out. the problem however is that these are the same kinds of issues which have been pointed out by clever marx-reconstructionists since rubin himself. this might be interesting marx scholarship, but it's not necessarily damning to his project, as all of the attempts to salvage him have made relatively clear (some of them have been quite successful even!)

when it comes to her specific claim about the naturalness of economic laws, i think this basically forfeits the epistemological element that she herself tries to raise. her entire critique could basically be summarized as follows:

marxs categories are non-empirical, but their merit is supposedly in their interconnections akin to an organic whole, so that, like a biological process, the invisible mechanisms are demonstrated in the surface results (relative prices etc). marx does this because the bourgeois economics which he is critiquing is modeled after natural science (specifically physics, although this is never really named in her critique), however the economy is not like a natural science at all. therefore we have to ask why marx's assumptions take this naturalistic assumption for granted if he is trying to prove that these are not natural categories etc etc.

this basically poses the question which marx himself tries to account for, as if he is failing for beginning with the exact problem she wishes he had addressed. its a very confusing place for her to end up, and i wonder if her afterword was rushed to completion because she suddenly reaches this point in the last couple of pages (the main criticism as you've quoted belongs to the last paragraph) after what strikes me as a very carefully written and thought-through piece until maybe the last third of the text. to suggest "if economic laws aren't natural then they must be fake so why bother trying to study them unless you're guilty of the same thing" fails to ask why the political economists would ever begin to conceive of the phenomena in this way. she is disinterested in the plausibility of the bourgeois conception, as if it's simply an erroneous collective accident and the fact that so many people's beliefs are structured this way isn't noteworthy once we admit that it's wrong. the irony is that, unlike marx, the result is that she basically takes this for granted by simply dismissing marx's immanent critique of it as being more of the same.