#i don't think that kinda stuff is ever really for onesself

[starpros-sunshine]

Why can't queer people just exist? Why do we have to 'Come Out'? Why do we have to stick a label onto everything so that other people can better understand it? Why does our existence have to be a statement?

[scriptscribbles]

hey- anon who asked about moffat meta here, and i wanted to thank you for such a thorough response- i'll def be checking out those links! if you don't mind me asking one more thing of you, do you know any bloggers who write/wrote about the earlier moffat seasons and amy & river? i actually am already fully on board with clara & her ending (just finished s9 recently & loved face the raven/the finale :')), but i'm ngl, season 6/7 still gives me pause

Ooh, gotcha.

Well, I think I expressed the point of series 7b previously, so I’ll pass on that. I will admit that’s my personal least favorite run of Moffat’s time as showrunner and that his overwork and stress at the time are well-documented, though. So it’s kinda forgivable, and avoids offensive.

Beyond that, well, Amy Pond and River Song. They’re very complicated, interesting characters, but I don’t know if there’s quite the same gathered body of meta on them. River, probably, not so sure about Amy.

I know I personally have written a fair bit about my understandings of them. Series 6 is my personal favorite because, to me, it’s a story about their agency and trauma and healing. The trauma never really goes away, but they can still be heroic and amazing, even while they do unhealthy things to try to cover up what they have suffered.

That’s the core of both characters. They both have a history of trauma and a whole host of emotional issues that result, including a difficulty feeling secure in their relationships. River, for example, doesn’t believe the Doctor ever can love her, even while loving him is all she had to cling to reject the control of the Silence and express herself. Amy, meanwhile, blames herself for anything that can go wrong and cuts herself off or runs away or throws herself into poor choices, like trying to divorce Rory, or trying to make out with Eleven, or just running away on her wedding night in the first place. For me and my history of bullying and repression and anxiety and mental condition stuff like ADHD, they really mean a lot.

The Wedding of River Song is all about them taking control. The queen metaphor is one core concept I know I’ve seen discussed a fair bit in meta of River’s arc, and I think it applies to Amy, too. If you don’t recall, Wedding features a game called “live chess,” where pieces will shock the players if moved around the board too much. That’s the core concept. The Wedding of River Song is the two of them lashing out in their own ways to be heard, against any framework, even history. That’s not going to heal their pain. Like Amy tells Kovarian before murdering her, that damage is done and her daughter being grown up and amazing doesn’t change the pain she inflicted on them. But she and River both make themselves heard. The whole plot is built around the shockwaves of them taking a stand against the whole arc built up around them and standing for themselves, and the Doctor forced to listen at last to their grievances. I adore it.

And that’s what the whole era really comes back to, over and over. Right from the beginning, the trauma Amy has suggested is deep and clear. I know @transjeanluc is quite engaged with that, though I don’t recall if he’s done meta, but this gifset has some great examples. Mental health issues, trauma, and suicide are all over the place with her. The Girl Who Waited, for example, is about abandonment. Or episodes like Victory of the Daleks and Vincent and the Doctor exploring her with suicide. It’s not all right out on the surface, of course. It’s always simmering right underneath. Because that’s what she is, really. A person who tries to hide the damage. River does just the same. It’s not healthy, and not good, but it’s real and I relate to it, as do others. And I think Moffat probably does, on some level, too.

Heck, the other day I was reading a short story by him, “The Least Important Man,” and the same thing came up. It’s about an Amy-like little boy who has an “imaginary friend,” future archaeologist (and former companion) Bernice Summerfield, who is, of course, real. And all his life he’s put down and shut down and hurt for it. The story goes from there to engage with suicidal thoughts and some other complicated, messy feelings, until the protagonist finally does find a happy ending through his imaginary friend and the science fiction he loves. It’s a short, simple tale, but I think it encompasses everything that drives the Pond era and why it matters so much to me. Amy gets to have both lives in the TARDIS and with Rory, and grow up and be amazing and in control, and live a full life all of her choice, even when the Doctor begs her not to. Hell, Amy’s arc all comes down to her choice, particularly in light of the times where she had none, the night she waited and the time she was medically violated on Demon’s Run. Amy’s Choice sets this all out, and it follows through to that final choice in the graveyard in The Angels Take Manhattan. With River and Amy both, it always comes down to stories about expressing onesself and moving forward and making choices after horrific experiences have been lived. Personally, that changed my life for the better.

Really, it’s all something I need to do an article on, probably several. Because this is a great big era of Who that is tremendously divisive but I hold close to my heart more than any other. I always describe myself as a fan of the Moffat era, but above all, I really love those glorious few years with Amy Pond.