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rosetyler42 · 10 months ago

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Hi! I want to ask what you like about Martha Dracula.

Personally, I hate how she had no purpose other than die to make Drac sad. We didnt see any of her personality so her death feels far less impactful than say, Bambis mom, and I hate the concept of zing/love at first sight trope" because the idea you will immediately know who you are supposed to be with forever based on immediate attraction sends a harmful message to kids and erases aromatic and polyamorous people and ppl who break off romantic relationships but are happier off that way.

I do wish we got to know more about Martha beyond the tragedy of her death and her book about Mavis finding her own zing, but I can kinda understand it as...the story's more about Drac, Johnny and Mavis and there were alot of other things to focus on. We do have SOME window into her personality and relationship with Drac: Mavis is implied to be similar to her and be the peice of Martha he has left, part of the reason he's so protective of her (With all the talk of Ericka being Martha's reincarnation - basically this universe's Mina to compare to other Dracula adaptations, I kind of think MAVIS is actually closer to that role. At least symbolically, although there are other similarities after having read Dracula Daily.) We hear that Martha is clearly the more bold of the two (similarly to Johnny and Mavis.) There's the legend of her and Drac's love story and family in the "Lady Lubov" legend, Drac's been clearly sitting Shiva for over a century, Her book about zings and how they met when she was Mavis' age, And it's implied Drac and Martha loved making music together as Drac mentions he hasn't sung in public since Martha passed. But as much as I do love the things we got, I wish we'd gotten to see more of Martha, seen her and Drac together and their (Less amorous) Gomez and Morticia type dynamic. Now, there IS a deleted scene on the HT bluray that shows Drac and Martha meeting, their courtship, and them having Mavis which gives more of a glimpse at Drac and Martha together which you may be interested in seeing if you haven't already. Matter of fact, Martha's reveal of her pregnant belly as a bat CLEARLY got reused in HT2 in Mavis' reveal of her own pregnancy.

As for the whole zing business...Yes, like all "Love at first sight" and Soulmate stuff, it does spread some harmful ideas, particularly for aro and ace people (like myself!) My mother had similar issues with it herself when we first watched it (though I don't think she knew about aro identities) Though I can kind of understand why it exists. Social interaction, particularly dating, can be a confusing, difficult, and potentially painful process. And I guess it's nice to imagine that you COULD just know the person you're meant to be with without having to go through all the mess. In the case of the HT films, it's also supposed to be a gothic fairytale Romeo and Juliet kind of story, which Love at first sight and soulmates are common tropes in that. Not to mention the trying to juggle a love story plot, a buddy film, family antics, gags, worldbuilding, (and in HT3, the whole "Monster Genocide" business) doesn't exactly lend itself to slow burns. The zing is a sweet idea, even if it doesn't necessarily work that way in real life.

This got long as I have some feelings about anatonormativity + HT , so here's a read more:

To a certain extent, that's part of what I like about HT3: It challenges the "A Zing only happens once in your life" idea by having Drac find love again. And having him DEAL WITH the "You only zing once" being wrong. Alot of people hated that. Some seek to think him falling for Ericka lessens what he had with Martha or means that he's forgotten about her. That he's cheating on Martha somehow. Some dunked on Ericka saying she was "weird" and "ugly", saying Martha was prettier. Some tried to find explanations like Ericka being Martha's reincarnation. But to me...I mean, we tend to think of love as being "The One," yet people fall in love again and remarry all the time. There doesn't HAVE to be a reason Drac zinged twice. And it resolves an issue the first movie had ABOUT "If a zing only happens once, what about people who fall in love and remarry?" Making it at least a BIT less amatonormative in my opinion. Of course, I'm something of an expert at bending rules and finding less amatonormative interpretations, and they never explicitly state EVERYONE has a zing.

Honestly in some ways the HT films are both amatonormative and anti-amatonormative. You have the whole zing/soulmate business, Drac teasing Dennis about Winnie, the guys setting Drac up on dates despite him saying he's not interested, and the whole "late bloomer" conversion therapy business. Most characters in the show have a partner except the mummy (who's shown dating), Vlad (who's showing off for the witches and talks about Nefrititi) and Blobby (who's more comic relief.)

On the OTHER hand, You not only have a 3 generational Non-nuclear family (with a stepmom, yet!) Living together in the same building in close proximity to eachother, but also a bunch of friends that are basically considered family, and at no point in the franchise does the romantic relationship get put higher than the familial or platonic ones. Heck, half the franchise I'd about the familial relationships. And even in the ones about romance, the familial relationships are a big part of those too. (There's also quite a bit if gray-rose coding with Drac himself looking back at the series - including the fact the man only experienced confirmed romantic attraction TWICE that we know of despite how much of a charmer he's shown to be. He can flirt until he's actually interested, then he can't function around them. There's also possible internalized aphobia that does get touched on, particularly in HT2 with him trying to make Dennis a vampire but then turning around and saving him from Vlad's "scare the fangs" plan and ultimately coming to accept Dennis as he is - which there's parallels between Dennis and his younger self drawn there.) I'll also point out that despite the "love and family over racism, we're all basically the same" message, love isn't treated as what makes one "human" in the series. If ANYTHING, it's bravery and willingness to take risk. Particularly to have fun OR protect others.

So yeah, kind of mixed feelings there as an aroace fan.

PS: I'll warn you about the HT3 junior novelization, there's a scene of VH dismissing Love as if it means nothing to him which...more aphobic than the scene in the film was. Particularly since Van Helsing gives off aroace vibes himself.

#hotel transylvania #martha dracula #martha lubov #aroace #amatonormativity #ask #asks #chinesegal #aro #ace #zing #I headcanon Drac as grayrose for ALOT of reasons #Mavis is probaby aspec too #As is her son Dennis.#DO love the fact Martha and Drac ARE basically a less amorous Gomez and Morticia dynamic #and the duality of her and Ericka's Debbie/Ophelia vibes is beautiful.#long post

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bidisaster-peanut-romano · 1 year ago

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about the parallels between bryce and chad / cupid and psyche.

as a disclaimer: though some of this is headcanon, i will try, for this one analysis, to remain as close to canon as possible, reconstructing the dynamics from what we have in canon because!! somehow they are actually canon!!

so, the story is a bit known, but just so we can have it here: venus was mad because everyone was saying this girl, psyche, was as beautiful as her, so she ordered her son, cupid, to have her fall in love with the ugliest man on earth. however he misses and falls for her instead. he hides her in his castles and they can stay together as long as she doesn't see his face. except that one night she betrays the promise and looks at his face with a candle. he has to leave her, and venus says that she will only have him back if she goes through three trials. she manages to complete the task, and she and cupid can stay together forever.

on the other hand, chad and bryce. now, we know for sure that they have something going on during chapter three (see the dialogue between justin and tad about the two of them wrestling at night and all. like when you read it it's quite easy to understand why it was cut from the final game), but, then chad is with lola during chapter three. the dynamic we could guess is that chad has, for some reason, left bryce behind (my reasoning is internalized homophobia but that is nothing certain).

there's a betrayal of trust there, you see, though it was the manifestation of some deeper issue that troubled the relationship to begin with. and i think you can already see the parallel there!!

and it caused them to drift away. it hurt like only broken trust can. and then, of course, even once they have acknowledged their mistake and the underlying issue, they cannot just go back to each other like it was nothing. chad probably won't have to descend in hell, but he certainly shall prove to bryce that he can be trusted again, that he truly loves bryce enough to be patient and to gain back what he's broken.

the fable of cupid and psyche is about how you sometimes cannot just throw yourself into something- in the context of the original work it was about religion, but in the isolated story it's about a relationship; being madly in love really isn't enough, and when there's something missing at the beginning only hurt can come at the end. but once there's a work, once the trust is not just blindly given but is built and learned- that is what can really make a valuable and lasting relationship. do you see what i mean

tad and peanut / romeo and juliet | derby and bif / achilles and patroclus

#this was a lot more in my head than it was to put into words but. yeah #look i love the story of cupid and psyche with a PASSION okay the original context is questionable but THE STORY IN ITSELF. im on the floor #canis canem edit #bully #bully scholarship edition #preps #bryce montrose #chad morris #odyposts #odywrites

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princeescaluswords · 2 years ago

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I’ve found that the most telling evidence that Something Else is amiss in the broad dislike of Scott is the lack of enthusiasm for Sciles. Compare it to Supernatural, which was also big at that time: 2 young attractive male leads (DOB being 3rd billed aside), good chemistry (both on-screen and IRL as friends), comedic dynamic, unbreakable bond, occasional flirting, etc. Sciles should have been THE pairing by almost any metric. Sterek had the antagonistic dynamic to set it apart, but given how much people water it down to fun banter or erase it altogether in fic, that canonical difference clearly wasn’t all that essential to shippers’ enjoyment. Allison comes up ALL the time as a complaint but other fandoms seem to be able to demonize and/or erase canon girlfriends without much of an issue. It leaves very, very few explanations when you look at it from that POV.

When I first entered fandom, I wasn't very interested in relationships; I focused more on character development in relation to plot. When I wrote, it was primarily gen fiction. As time passed, positive interactions with the fandom (there can be some!) led me to consider relationships as an important part of the greater whole. But one thing I never quite understood is the hostility to both Scott and Stiles's friendship and Scott and Allison's relationship. Unlike some people, I don't think that a non-canon relationship like romantic Stiles and Derek or Stiles and Peter simply can't work. I've written Sterek myself. It's always confused me how fandom seemed to seek validation for those ships by tearing down both of Scott's primary canonical relationships, which are completely unrelated.

Now, you know, I eventually came to several conclusions about why this happens, which I have talked about a great deal and will continue to talk about. But it's always key to me when actually grappling with an issue is an attempt to understand the other side. So I asked myself, for instance, why was Scott and Allison's canon romantic relationship so unpopular? It seems to me that those opposed to it have four major complaints which I have seen expressed in print.

It was heterosexual, and that is somehow bad.

It was stupid and dangerous: a newly bitten teenage werewolf falling in love with the teenage daughter of werewolf hunters was a recipe for disaster.

It distracted the lead protagonist (Scott) from the issues he should be addressing and the people to which he should be listening.

As the primary canon relationship of the first two seasons, parts of the audience felt it was being forced on them.

With the exception of the first one, which still mystifies me to this day, these others could have some value. I mean, the Romeo-and-Juliet trope is an old one, and people may be tired, in this modern age, of seeing it being re-enacted again. So, why don't you take an amble with me over to AO3? If these are legitimate fandom concerns, then it should hold up when we examine Teen Wolf's peer group of supernatural adventure shows.

Let's look at the famous Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003); it seems that the top two ships represented on AO3 are ...

#1 Spike and Buffy Summers

#2 Angel and Buffy Summers

Strange that the heterosexual canon ships of a vampire slayer and a vampire remain two most popular subjects. But that's an old show. We've changed. Let's look at something with more direct relevance. Tyler Posey was up for the role of Jacob in the Twilight film series (2008-2012). What ships are most popular there?

#1 Edward Cullen and Bella Swan

#2 Alice Cullen and Jasper Hale

Okay, interesting but there are still differences. There is less emphasis on inherent conflict, I guess. And those are movies, let's move back to television. (I will now switch from 'heterosexual' to 'man/woman' because some of these characters are definitely bisexual.)

True Blood (2008-2014) was a far more adult television show, so it would expand beyond the mainstream that the fandom finds so cloying:

#1 Eric Northman and Sookie Stackhouse

#2 Bill Compton and Sookie Stackhouse

Or maybe not. But that's premium cable targeted at a different audience. Let's look at the competitors, such as The Vampire Diaries (2009-2017) which ran coterminous with our show.

#1 Caroline Forbes and Klaus Mikaelson

#2 Elena Gilbert and Damon Salvatore

Or its spin off, The Originals (2013-2018)

#1 Caroline Forbes and Klaus Mikaelson

#2 Hayley Marshall and Elijah Mikaelson

It's kind of weird that these all have a certain pattern that the most popular ships to write about are all man/woman ships with built-in oppositional obstacles. Now, there are shows whose fandom are focused on non-heterosexual relationships, such as Supernatural, and while I haven't watched it and never will, I'm told that one of the reasons is that any canon man/woman ship was doomed by the narrative impulse to whack female characters. There's Legacies, which I don't know much about but it seems to be focused on a woman/woman ship and isn't that refreshing?

But I think, to paraphrase my favorite show, if three times is a pattern, five times might be a trend. It seems that fandom doesn't really have any problem exploring canonical problematic supernatural man/woman relationships as long as there is a particular trait among all the people participating in those relationships. Can you spot the pattern for yourself? Can someone explain to me why these are the most popular ships in their respective fandoms but those same characteristics make Scott and Allison's relationship distasteful. Of course, and always, we have to remember one thing

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.

#scott mccall #allison argent #scallison #teen wolf fandom problems #fandom racism

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galadhremmin · 3 years ago

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Something @symphonyofsilence brought up in the replies to russingon reading comprehension issues anon was that "Long before, in the bliss of Valinor, before Melkor was unchained, or lies came between them, Fingon had been close in friendship with Maedhros" is how Melkor’s lies succeeding in coming between them in Valinor is almost never addressed, and the blame for the end of their relationship is put on Fëanor instead.

And yes! I was actually in the process of writing a post about that exact thing; an inability to conceptualise their relationship as occasionally one with conflicting opinions and values/issues all of their own is why people want to demonise Fëanor in that context imo, despite there being no textual basis for him as coming between them at all.

This infantlises both Fingon and Maedhros.

Fëanor is never said to prevent his sons from seeing their cousins. As I noted in an ask about his relationship with his half-siblings insofar the text says anything about it, before Melkor his unfriendliness seems to be more of the avoidant sort. He quickly moves out when his father remarries. His father’s wish for more children is the reason why his mother is condemned to eternal death; they are her sentence made physical, even aside from the whole replacement anxiety boogaloo. But there is nothing on him stopping his sons from befriending their cousins, or disliking it. Or forcing them into anything in Valinor in general.

Maedhros and Fingon seem to have broken up their relationship when their fathers really started fighting. And they both seem loyal to their fathers' ideas, not forced into supporting them; Fingon calls Fëanor a fool during his speech, and Maedhros eagerly joins his father in taking the Oath. Of course they are still attached to one another despite that; Fingon hurries to help them at Alqualondë without thinking. Maedhros in return doesn’t want to burn the ships; the cousin he was once close to is also the one who saved them.

There is no reason whatsoever to assume Maedhros somehow secretly agreed with Nerdanel on Fëanor's attitude to the Valar. None at all. Literally not a single action he takes in either Valinor or Beleriand justifies that reading.

And the sneaking behind Fëanor's back plot you often see-- why Fëanor? Yes, he pulled a sword on Fingolfin after Fingolfin tried to accuse him of betraying Finwë's leadership. Which yes, is a pretty good attempt of coming between Feanor and Finwe. Fëanor ends up being the one who takes a terrible action, as usual; but do you really think the party who considered Fëanor (and his sons!) to be spouting straight up blasphemous ideas about the Valar to support Maedhros' and Fingon's friendship/being lovers/whichever? Because that is canon Fingolfin. Canon Fingolfin is also the one who was so angry at the Feanorians after the Ice that there was ‘peril of war�� after they arrived in Middle Earth (WoJ) while Fingon wants to reconcile.

If they have to sneak around behind someone's back it might as well be Fingolfin’s.

But in the end I don’t think they snuck behind anyone’s back at all. I think they had a falling out because they are independent people with ideas that don’t always match up, and with a little help from Morgoth’s lies it became an all out fight and temporary estrangement. I just don't get why people are so eager to project sort of Romeo and Juliet dynamic onto these two-- it fits their canon personalities and story so incredibly badly.

Fingon and Maedhros are two eldest sons who seem largely convinced by their fathers' worldviews. But when their fathers’ ideas start to conflict with their love in extreme circumstances (stranded on Helcaraxe, hanging from Thangorodrim) they find the courage to go against them! They had a serious falling out in Valinor; but their love survives it. Would their love have survived Maedhros’ Oath, though, had Fingon lived? I really don’t know. In the end the Oath might win. Fingon’s love is selfless and complete (which does not mean he has to agree with or be happy with everything Maedhros does); and Maedhros love might have been, had he not eagerly bound himself to something that doomed him.

anyway I think that’s a much more interesting story, and canon compatible.

#russingon #maedhros #fingon

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sunjaesol · 3 years ago

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“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

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“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#jiara #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #otp: cause i'll come #It's messy but in a cute way

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years ago

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How do you think Jon & Sansa's relationship play out in the books ? Will it be platonic or there could be some restricted or worse 1 sided romantic feelings ?

I’m pretty vocal about being a jonsa, I think, so I don’t think it will surprise you that I think there will be a romantic angle to their relationship.

I mean, really, where can he go with them? Enemies? Both are comitted to Winterfell, and miss their family and childhood. They think fondly of each other and have similar values. There is no basis for meaningful enmity unless one of them turns villainous out of nowhere. Highly unlikely. I’m not saying there won’t be conflict, but if it’s supposed to be meaningful, it’s not set up for much drama. “They were not very close siblings and now they clash over their differences. Shocking.”

Happy platonic sibling-friends? Jon already has that dynamic with Arya and Bran. While it would be sweet to see these two finally interact and get along as siblings, too, there’s not much added to the story by it. “Oh, it turns out, they don’t hate each other, like the text already suggested. Surprise.” If they had set up age-old hate between them, and their traumatic journeys have rendered that null, maybe. But GRRM specifically has not set it up that way.

Romance? That’d make a lot of things click. The weight of romance and songs in Sansa’s arc requires a character of some weight to carry it, if it’s supposed to have a meaning beyond either a hasty treat or a cynical denial. Jon’s own longing for home and family and children is so deeply connected to Winterfell and the Starks that it also feels a lot more satisfying to see those themes connected to Sansa all tied together, rather than narrowing connection and conflict between them to one of rulership and sibling affection, especially when the latter doesn’t carry near the same weight as his connection to Arya and Bran.

Basically, if the conflict was supposed to be Stark Family v. Dany Romance, you wouldn’t need Sansa. He could have kept a blend between Arya and Sansa in one character. As far as family dynamics go, two Stark sisters work brilliantly in connection to each other, but become redundant in terms of Jon - unless their relationships are very different. And if romance was never going to be part of it, then GRRM has wasted five books drenching Sansa’s chapters in a reflection of the concept. A romantic connection between Jon and Sansa mirrors the Lannisters and the Tully-Petyr mess, pays off some loose ends, creates new tension in the existing sibling dynamics and ties up Sansa and Jon’s mirroring dreams. Plus, the pay-off for RLJ. Plus all the foreshadowing.

I certainly don’t think it would be one-sided. They both fit each other’s romantic profile too well. And by that I don’t mean “Jon has a thing for redheads” but the things they value, like softness, attention, protective honor, and gallant heroics.

Considering there was no five-year-gap, I don’t think we will see some kind of fully-fleshed out adult relationship between them to rival the broiling complexity of Jaime and Cersei. I think it’s likely to be very reflective of the romantic songs associated with Sansa. Florian and Jonquil, Aemon and Naerys, Jenny and Duncan. I think there will be drama and angst surrounding the fact that unlike less responsible characters, they will take the struggle between personal desires and political responsibilities very seriously. Plus communication issues.

Considering it’s only two books to go, it’ll probably be a not-so-slow burn, private anguish, unspoken words, moments of drama, promises made and broken, perceived betrayal, sad-song-level broken hearts and resignation (think Swanlake or The Little Mermaid) that will seem to end in a well of sadness, but will find its happy ending in a very satisfying twist.

Something that I am absolutely befuddled by is how GRRM will handle the whole child foreshadowing. Lyanna, Dany, Gilly, Robb’s prevented heir, Roslyn Frey, Sansa’s plentiful child references… The lack of the five-year-gap again makes that an extremely wonky proposition. Sansa is like thirteen-and-a-half right now. Even if GRRM is very scrupulous about the passage of time, Sansa won’t exactly be very grown-up even by the ending. And GRRM has been unsubtle about the dangers of childbirth: Lyanna, Elia, Lysa, Dalla, Dany, Minisa, etc. Dany marrying at 13, Lyanna being abducted at 15 and dying at 16 weren’t supposed to be happy scenarios.

I’m a bit concerned about how important Stark progeny will be to the plot, and whether it will make GRRM go down murky paths.

Something like this is making me narrow my eyes a little in concern and suspicion:

A few of the oldest gowns had been made for young Lysa Tully of Riverrun, however, and others Gretchel had been able to alter to fit Alayne, who was almost as long of leg at three-and-ten as her aunt had been at twenty. (...)

And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut." (AFFC, Alayne I)

If GRRM somehow decided to move things beyond emotionally romantic, he’d have to be extremely careful not to drift off into something creepy and irresponsible. Romeo and Juliet had the age constellation of Jon and Sansa, but that doesn’t mean it was great that they got married and shared a bed that young. Even if GRRM allows time to pass.

So I think unless a child is somehow relevant to the plot, they may well never be physically together on the page beyond age appropriate kissing.

Which would be perfectly fine by me.

#asoiaf #jonsa #jon snow #sansa stark #asks

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

Text

Cupid’s Blind Arrow (Group Fic) Prologue - Ginger Nut

AN: Hi everyone so this is my first fic ever, it will be loosely based on the story of Romeo and Juliet, but this prologue is just introducing all of the main characters and how I want to portray them, there will be side characters I just haven’t included them in this. I’m still a bit unsure on what ship to centre the idea around so forgive me if i play about with a few for the next couple of chapters.Pronouns used are mainly she/her and sometimes they/them. I got this idea as I’m currently studying this play at school and I would want to read something like this, I’m really excited planning all of this out so please let me know what you think! I’m very open to feedback as I know I’m not the best writer, trust me my English teacher has told me, but I’ve tried really hard because not gonna lie I need an escape rn and this blog gives me life

“A glooming piece this morning with it brings;

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:

Go hence to have more talk of these sad things:

Some shall be pardon’d and some punished:

For there never was a story of more woe

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

“Well then class that is the end of the play, we have finally finished the first reading of Romeo and Juliet.” Miss Raja tone was monotonous despite her inner self feeling a sense of relief considering it had felt like a chore to even pick this play up as every time she did her students gave an audible groan in protest.

“What do you mean the first reading, you only need to read it once” Someone from the back corner interjected however the teacher didn’t even need to look up to know who it was,

“Willam I’m surprised you think that you’ve read it once considering most often times than not you’re leaning against the wall with your eyes and book closed.” Willam Belli surprised everyone when she showed up to the honours English class and hadn’t walked into the wrong room. She never took anything seriously and didn’t apply herself to any of her classes. Secretly however, that had changed towards the end of last term as exams were on the rise. Her mum had hired her a tutor and it just so happens that Willam became head over heels for her, only secretly though, no one could know that Willam Belli had a crush. It just wasn’t her brand; guys lusted after her and girls loved her, Willam preferred to be single at all times, no commitment no issues. But for some reason she just couldn’t forget the blonde Australian who taught her about imagery, persuasive techniques, and poetic tones. Oh, and by the way, the beautiful aussie, named Courtney, became more than just a tutor. Their time together was short due to Courtney’s exchange programming expiring but Willam came out on top, scoring almost perfect in many of her exams….and in other ways.

“Nuh uh,” Willam looked at Miss Raja wearing a face that was a mixture of offense and boredom. “They meet, fall in love, find out they’re from feuding families and kill themselves to be dead together. Ya know “happy dagger and all that shit””

Miss Raja didn’t bat an eye at Willam’s language, at this point in the game she’d heard it all and was more interested at her participation than anything else.

Just at that the bell for 3rd period rang, and the stampede of students started to flow into the river of people in the corridor. Miss Raja started to collect in copies of the play as she felt weight being lifted off her shoulders, this class had to be the most challenging; Aside from the infamous vain character that is Willam, her class was full of huge personalities and Raja had no clue how this year was going to pan out, she groaned at the thought of it. Violet Chachki she thought as she picked the copy of the play off her desk, a prestigious yet intimidating student who had extremely high standards and walked the halls as if everyone disgusted her, you did not want to disappoint Violet. Her signature feature being a small a waist as Willam attention span, she also had an amazing eye for fashion and almost always showed up at school with an outfit that was coordinated head to toe. Raja admired her determination; that girl could achieve anything she set her mind to which is why she consistently turns in exceptional work on independent tasks. Next to Violet sat Bianca Del Rio, brutal honesty being her forefront and her over it attitude certainly contradicted her eagerness to participate in discussion which she usually took over from Miss Raja. Before you know it, Bianca was educating the whole class instead and Raja would sit back and let her go for it. As miss raja scanned the class she picked up the 3 copies belonging to the more laid back, chilled students in the back row: Right in the back corner was Pearl Liason, Pearl had only moved to the school a couple of months before summer which gave her a disadvantage regarding a social life, most of the kids had been going to the same school as each other their whole life. Pearl didn’t seem to mind though any time Raja had been on school lunch monitor duty, her dreaded day of the week, she noticed Pearl sitting at the end of a table with headphones in and usually doing homework or something of that sorts, sometimes she had a sketch pad out. A thought emerged, Raja believed that her and Violet would be good friends considering their arty, creative interests, maybe they worked together in a fashion or media class, but Raja never dared to get any closer to find out what was on Pearls paper. She just felt weird doing so, even though it’d probably be more interesting than listening to Miss Sanchez’s stories of her son or Miss Imfurst’s rages over her classes. Pearl was a more reserved student, that’s just how she was, nevertheless she got on with her work occasionally getting into trouble for smelling of cigarettes or weed as she came into class with the other back row students. In the middle sat Adore Delano, a grunge rocker who had an abysmal at best attendance record, but a raw talent that Miss Raja longed to see all the time, but it was hard fucking work. Adore preferred to talk than listen, write than read. Raja understood that, her mind produced some really wonderful things but examiners won’t ask you about the origin of life and importance of spirituality. Surprisingly Adore got on well with Bianca who sat immediately in front of her; they were polar opposites but somehow had an undeniable connection. Raja couldn’t keep herself from laughing sometimes at the things they came up with and their dynamic. Completing the back row was none other than Sharon Needles, Sharon had smart moments but for the most part Raja wondered how she managed to get into this class. She had a no fucks given vibe and for that reason she rarely turned any work in. Sharon didn’t do much work in class in fact she didn’t really do anything. She spent most of her time listening to Adore ramble on, engraving shit like “Andy Warhol is dead” onto her desk or staring out of the window looking like she was in love with the rain. The leather biker looks raised some eyebrows but on the inside Sharon was really goofy and a big softy. Raja could’ve sworn she’d caught Sharon gazing at one of the girls in the front row, but could not place her finger on who. Across the room Willam sat at the other back row alongside a few other students who Willam found pleasure in angering. One of them however seemed to enjoy her witty and usually narcissistic comments, and that was a Russian born gymnast called Katya. Raja had given up with her real name after less than one class. Katya had a weird sense of humour, that’s for sure but found Willam out of all people hilariously funny even when the joke was aimed at her. Katya’s work consisted mainly of historical events that had modern day twists, she had a weird thing for futuristic Barbie’s and it never failed to bore Raja. Making her way back down to the front row she guided past Alaska Thunderfuck scooping up her copy of the play. Alaska was actually quite intellectual; however, her class work was always to a much higher standard than her home assignments, Raja wondered what the fuck is that girl doing outside of school, who are her friends? Alaska insisted that she had a busy life, which one may be lead to believe. The girl was a cheerleader and featured in many of the school events such as the musicals. And finally, next to Alaska sat Trixie Mattel. Trixie’s personality and hair lit up the room, like Alaska, Trixie was a cheerleader and often came to class in uniform. Trixie was an ideal student, she always showed up on time to class, did her work, completed all homework, and scored pretty high in all class tests. Raja had no worries with her, god forbid she got into a relationship.

Miss Raja just noticed a pounding headache coming on as she proceeded to read the rest of the requirements for the Romeo and Juliet section; “Class must have a discussion on whether the plot of the play was a cautionary tale regarding the stupidity of youth and lust or a beautiful tragedy where poisonous hatred can be conquered by love.” Fucking hell, thought Raja. Class discussions are a waste of time. She scrolled down, the next requirement was a nine-point essay on why Romeo was a character created to evoke sympathy in the reader. Class discussion it is.

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randosmstuff · 7 years ago

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An unpopular opinion...

So, I finally mustered up the courage to watch Still Star-Crossed finale. I have to say that it was a much, much better put together episode. The background song for the Rosvolio kiss was on point (FINALLY). If I am not mistaken, the song they used for the Rosvolio kiss is a variation of the instrumental song from Baz Lhurmann’s Romeo and Juliet (1996); I might be wrong, though.

Now, let’s get to the point of this post.

Well, I decided to be completely honest with all of you. I want you to know that I am looking at the “Still Star-crossed Project” not as a fan of the show – which I am – but I am trying to look at it with critical eyes. No bias or whatsoever.

I have to warn you. This is going to be a long post and a lot of what’s in here is most definitely going to “upset” a lot of people. But, please, don’t be mad at me just yet. Try to put your feelings towards the project aside and just read what I have to say and then, if you still think I am wrong, just say it so.

With that being said…

I completely understand why Still Star-crossed was canceled. Actually, in my opinion, it shouldn’t even have been aired in the first place. I say this because there were so many mistakes, TOO MANY, actually.

The writing was all over the place, the editing, the transition between scenes, the music, the understanding of the characters, the network, the time slot it was given…

So basically everything?

No, not everything. Definitely, not everything.

The cast is amazing.

The changes they made with some of the characters were really good and intriguing. Princess Isabella, Lord Montague, Lady Helena, Tessa Montague, Lord Capulet… I would love to see their stories unravel.

I don’t know if you understand what I’m saying so I’ll try to elaborate a bit more.

This kind of story is not supposed to go on for seasons and seasons. It requires a beginning and an end. It was meant to be a limited series all along.

I’m not sure if it was the writing that sunk the project or if it was the overall misunderstanding of the project in and of itself.

I think that they were trying to make a political statement… not really political, maybe a social statement or a race statement or an equality statement? I don’t know…

It seems to me that they were trying to create something so bold and ambitious that they somehow forgot what the story was really about and how this kind of story really appeals to the audience.

I don’t think Still Star-Crossed sunk because of the color blind casting or lack of promotion (I believe the lack of promotion was an effect, actually, not a cause). Still Star-Crossed didn’t work because it failed to connect with the audience. And when I say “audience” I don’t mean “us”.

Everything that was cut, everything that was left unsaid and unexplained…

I know, they felt like they didn’t have to. But unfortunately we still live in a world where we need to explain why some family members are from one race and some are from another. This caused confusion in so many viewers (racists or not), just overall confusion. People wanted a simple and clean explanation. Nothing a flashback scene couldn’t handle.

Another issue that I noticed is that even though the narrative tried to imply it otherwise, the characters were emotionally distant. Again, not the actors fault. They did an amazing job with what they were given. There was only so much they could do… I am blaming the writers and the directors for this. Like I said before, they didn’t quite understand the characters.

Another mistake: they changed Shakespeare. You can play with Shakespeare but you can not change it. Changing Romeo and Juliet’s story was a bad call. Specially because it was supposed to be a sequel. Never mentioning, not even once, that Romeo was in love with Rosaline first? How come? This very fact should be a catalyst between Rosaline and Benvolio and yet it was erased completely. With what puporse? I don’t know. Hide from Verona that Romeo and Juliet were in love? Not even her parents seemed to know those two married in secret. Or did I miss something? (Maybe I did).

Now, a very, very delicate matter…The unbalanced relationship between the leads.

Benvolio and Rosaline were not equals, they did not bring out the best and the worst in each other, at least, not how they were supposed to.

They portraited Benvolio as a lost soul, a lone and misundertood character and I actually liked what they were trying to do with him but they also made him weak. He was supposed to be the hero of the story. The martyr. He was supposed to be strong and witted, like Rosaline implied herself but it was rather talked about than shown. She was always the one supplying all the answers. So many things came from Benvolio - bookBenvolio - that they shifted and had them come from Rosaline instead.

Rosaline was super super strong and independent (the political, social, race, equality thing I mentioned before?). I was really annoyed at the fact that Rosaline always semeed so sure of herself. How she almost never faltered. I still can’t get over the fact that she seemed more annoyed than surprised or shaken by Escalus when she first tried to talk to him about Benvolio’s innocence and he played it out like she was doing it because Benvolio was her fiancé when he knew the truth. That was supposed to be a key moment. She was supposed to see him in a different light. It was supposed to be a grave moment but they played it out like a mockery (the music helped with the mockery tone as well). And Rosaline never really shown vulnerability. Even when she delivered that emotional speech about her parents’ death, she was more proud and angry than actually vulnerable. And that is where Benvolio was supposed to come in.

Benvolio was supposed to make her vulnerable. He was supposed to make her falter. He was supposed to tear down her walls without asking permission. He was supposed to make her question herself. What he made her feel was supposed to be so strong and unexpected that even Livia would slip her mind. Her feelings for him was supposed to be so strong that she would rather die with him than let him be killed. And we didn’t get to see that. Not really.

The balcony scene was good, it was great but I was expecting something breathtaking. They should have made him climb the balcony… Invade her personal space. In my opinion that scene was supposed to be powerful, emotional and sensual. What I mean is… The balcony scene is the scene were Benvolio was supposed to break her and at the same time expose himself completely (which he did) but we needed (or I needed) a physical proximity, faces inches apart, uneven breath takes, hands accidentally touching… Because that was supposed to be when they would feel the attraction awake something inside them for the first time. They were supposed to see each other as man and woman, not as Capulet and Montague. There’s a line from the book that explains it so well. “Had Romeo’s eyes ever yearned as Benvolio’s did now?” Remember, in the book, Benvolio was cupping her face (physical proximity, anyone?).

Anyway, I could go on and on about every scene between our leads, but I wouldn’t dare to go deep about the other characters because I didn’t quite grasp them or actually care for them? Paris, for example. Why he was so twisted? Was it because of his father? Was he being manipulated? And Lady Capulet? They made her so confused that I didn’t know if she was evil or just grieving. Lord Montague interested me the most. I think there was more to him and they failed to show us. And Tessa Montague? That woman wanted power. I can’t shake the feeling she had somehting to do with the attack. Wouldn’t that be great? But they needed to show more of her. And Princess Isabella? What about our weak Prince?

And the music? The sound effects are there to help us feel, to help us connect with the story. To help with the dynamic. But that was not what happened.

The pace of story? It was all over the place. It was rushed and not dynamic at all. I understand they had to cut a lot of scenes but a fast paced story doesn’t always mean a dynamic one.

And what about the promos? The very first promo we saw made us believe the epic love story was between our beautiful brown leads. Benvolio was barely in the promos. They were misleading the audience and it backfired. I can’t stop thinking of a promo with a few Romeo and Juliet lines and images of Rosvolio. “My only love sprung from my only hate” “You only hate for my name” “And you hate me for mine”. Can you imagine the appeal it would have had?

So many details they missed. I know… The project was too ambitious. It got out of hand. It became too expansive. They should have planned better, then. They should have fixed the mistakes and not ignored them, knowing that in doing it so, the show would be doomed.

I should stop here. There’s so much more I want to say.

Please, don’t get me wrong. I still love the show. I love it, not because we have a black female lead in a period drama or because the cast was so diverse. Those were a plus, the icing on the cake. I love the show because of the story. The potential was, is enormous. And I am mad because they mistreated it.

My intention with this post was to show they could have made different choices. They should have targeted the right demographic. The direction of the show could have been different but for that the story needed to be more important than whatever message they were trying to pull through. And maybe, even still achieve both.

In other words, it was not the story itself, it was not the diverse cast, it was poor and careless execution.

I’m sorry, if you don’t agree with me. I still believe in the show. I still want more. Rosvolio is still my OTP. The chemistry between Lashana and Wade is too much to be wasted. And I know for a fact they can save the show and profit from it. They only need to make the right choices and changes.

I truly hope TPTB will give Still Star-Crossed another chance.

*By the way, I’m black. Just so you know…

#still star crossed #shondaland #shonda rhimes #abc network #shakespeare #romeo and juliet #period romance #tv show #rosvolio

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smoothshift · 6 years ago

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1 Year of Ownership C7 Grandsport Review via /r/cars

1 Year of Ownership C7 Grandsport Review

Today marks my 1 year anniversary of owning my C7 Corvette Grandsport so I wanted to write a review for all who may be interested in owning one.

I want to first start by saying that I think the C7 Grand Sport is probably one of the best all around sports cars that can be purchased today. My car is an A8 2LT model without the Z07 Package. I purposefully did not deck it out out with extra aero, pilot sport 2's, or the carbon ceramic brakes because my intention was to daily drive the car. So I figured having tires that were a bit friendlier when wet, and brakes that weren't going to cost $7K to replace (if I ever needed to) was a good idea. Here's my impression after nearly 13,000 miles

Power The 460HP 460lb/ft torque LT1 engine is potent throughout the RPM range. Unlike high strung European engines or turbocharged engines, you aren't waiting to get up in the RPMs to feel some oomph. When you hit the throttle you're moving with a surge of torque. A lot of people say the Grandsport could use an extra 50hp or so. While that might be true, the car can still struggle to find traction in 1st or 2nd gear with anything over 20% throttle.

Power Bad I came to this C7 after daily driving a C5 Corvette. With the C5 you feel like you get hit with torque right at 2,000RPM and then it starts to taper off at 5,000RPM. So with a C5 the car kind of runs out of steam towards the upper end of the RPM range. With the C7 the torque really starts to hit a bit better at 3,000RPM and goes with you till redline so the car feels like it keeps going and going long past where a C5 would start to fade away. So why is this bad? The engine is totally able to hit you at 2,000RPM with all sorts of torque just like the C5 is, but the C7 is torque managed pretty strongly in the early RPM's. This is ultimately a faster, better, safer thing to do from an objective point of view, but it can really reduce the fun factor as the car loses a bit of that ferocity early in the rev range. If you put the A8 into manual mode you get a bit more of that bite at 2,000RPM, but if left in auto you won't really feel the full torque potential hit till 3,000RPM. This isn't necessarily a lack of power thing per say...it's more of a throttle response thing that makes a lot of sense from a pure safety, dynamics, and traction perspective but takes some liveliness out of the engine that I know is there.

Handling The handling on this car is phenomenal. I've driven a V8 Audi R8, Porsche 997 911 Turbo, and an Alfa Romeo 4C, and this car beats all of those quite easily. It feels completely planted and sure footed in the corners. Body roll is almost never felt unless you're pulling something like 1.1G's. The magnetic ride control actually makes a difference in how your car goes over the road. In other cars the magnetic dampers are pretty much "regular" and "bumpier" with the bumpier setting not feeling like it's that much more helpful. This car has a soft and compliant "touring" setting that feels very smooth and a touch loose. A firmer "sport" setting. A very bouncy and twitchy "track" setting that's probably a little too firm but gives you a lot of control over the car. My favorite mode is actually the "weather" mode which makes the dampers even softer than touring to really maximize grip in inclimate weather situations. If you use "Weather" on a regular day the car feels very supple. The steering on this car isn't lush with feedback, but it isn't sterile either. One thing I like is the variable steering effort programmed into the car. Parking lots are way easier compared to how they were in my C5, and the steering will feel very precise when you are in performance situations.

handling bad The only negatives about this car from the handling perspective is that the large tires upfront do make it feel a bit wide and bloaty when daily driving, they will sometimes cause tramlining a bit more, and the tires will skip if you go full lock. This isn't anything terrible per say, just a compromise I've noticed with the larger tires. On the flip side...if you take this car on a back road or in serious handling situation it feels like a surgical instrument. Though this car is dampened the best of any Corvette I've ever encountered. With the tranverse leaf springs that it has, bumps do feel like more of a left right motion instead of an up down motion. It's the best any Corvette has felt in this regard and it's not too noticeable, but it is something that makes the car feel less settled than it should. I honestly think softer dampening settings from the get-go (closer to what the "Weather" mode has) would suit this car better for when it is in "Touring".

Transmission

The A8 gets a lot of hate, but I honestly don't mind it. It is perfectly smooth in day to day driving, the manual mode isn't DCT fast at all, but it's faster and more responsive than most torque converter transmissions. It's a fine transmission for what it is, especially considering when this car was developed and what its pricepoint was.

Fuel Economy

The car can get an honest 30mpg if you drive it at 60mph on the highway. It has automatic cylinder deactivation that you don't even notice unless you want to see it deactivating on your gauges. In general this is probably the most fuel efficient sports car that you can get as I think its even more fuel efficient than the hybrid NSX and literally everything else is less fuel efficient by comparison. The only thing that prevents me from getting great MPGs is the fact that I hoon it like crazy, but the fuel economy in this car is truly remarkable for the performance it is capable of.

Interior

To me the interior is great. Is it the nicest, most luxurious thing in the world? No, but it's well designed, has cup holders, usb, aux, and 12v ports where you want them, a functional and versatile infotainment system (that seems more capable than what most other sports/supercars have despite being outdated by GM standards), and in general it's a good place to be. Anyone that docks the C7 for its interior is honestly a moron. It's not bad at all and totally acceptable for a car in this price range. I have the normal touring seats and they feel great.

Interior Bad

For whatever reason my steering wheel seems to be wearing a little fast. I do physical labor and sometimes get my hands dirty, so I'm wondering if that has something to do with it. Also, I've noticed small imprints in the soft leather where I typically place my arms/elbows when driving. Apparently GM has updated the material on newer models where this isn't as prevalent. The sound system sounds great with some types of music, but feels like it is emphasizing the wrong frequencies with other types of music. So you can get really great sounding drum and bass for instance...but will feel like you're struggling to get clarity out of Jazz music somehow.

Exhaust

The exhaust on this car can sound down right mean. It has a loud crackle to it when you up-shift at high RPM's and burbles a bit when you let off the accelerator. You can also set the exhaust to "stealth" and "touring" modes which are a lot less aggressive. In stealth mode you honestly barely know that the engine is there. To be honest with the right exhaust and suspension settings this car could be as comfortable and as quiet as a Cadillac.

Exhaust Bad

GM did a really good job soundproofing this car. With the windows down you can hear your exhaust screaming like a demon, but with the windows up the car feels quite a bit more tame. This isn't a bad thing per say...but you lose some of that fun factor unless the windows are down.

Storage

The storage on this car is amazing. The hatchback trunk lets you fit so many things in the back of it. I currently have (4) large backpacks and a meeting bag/briefcase and I still have room for groceries. Unless you're looking at wagons there's honestly not another sports car out there with more storage.

Overall experience

So here's the thing with this car. It was built to rival supercars in terms of its raw speed and capabilities, but it was also built to be viable in everyday driving conditions. So the car kind of has a split personality to it. When set to "Eco" and putting around town the car is honestly almost as comfortable, quiet, and economical as a Toyota Camry. When asked to perform it just does everything you can throw at it, and you honestly won't find its limits on the streets and with you driving it. So I always tell people that it's like this perfect girlfriend almost. She cooks, cleans, and takes care of you, but is also amazing in bed. Since this girl is so perfect there's almost a lack of drama, which takes away from some of the passion that you might have once had with another girl.

So when you daily drive a C7 Grand Sport, the cars' overall balance and dual nature might become a small issue. With how the C7 Grand Sport is torque managed and with how well balanced the chassis is, if you want a little blip of speed or excitement the car isn't exactly sure what it wants to do. Does it want to be the practical, comfy grand tourer that was designed to be (in which case you'll miss some of that initial torque bite, which will feel a little unsatisfying) or does it want to be the supercar competitor that it is (in which case you'll be doing something illegal in 2-3 seconds). So it is a little hard to have "fun" with this car in a safe way. As it might feel too neutered in some cases, or too fast/intense in other cases.

When commuting to work, in heavy traffic in downtown LA trying to answer work calls, etc. I am thankful for how easy this car can be to drive. No other sportscar, save for your sports sedans, are going to have the visibility, ground clearance, throttle response, and cheap repair bill (if something where to happen) that this car does. The Audi R8 is probably the next most practical sports car on the market and it's about a tenth as practical as this car.

When pushing the car, I am amazed at how good it is. My buddy and I like to frequent a canyon road near us. He has a Ford Focus RS and though you'd expect the Grand Sport to be better...it's surprising just how much better it is. The car is precise, explodes with power, is balanced, and never puts you in a bad situation. I remember the first time genuinely driving this car on a twisty road and thinking "Man GM was not messing around"

The only other thought I have about this car is that for some reason I feel like I don't have as much sense of occasion when driving it. The C7 sits a little higher than the older Vettes, which in a lot of ways is good, but also less "sporty". You don't hear the exhaust as much. With the way the chassis and power are tuned it's just a little hard to make this car playful. Manual mode in the A8 helps it a bit, and honestly if this car had a DCT that extra level of engagement and control would be all that it needs to give it that little extra bit of occasion. I do get a lot of looks and comments from people in general. I always enjoy doing the Corvette wave. I feel like when you get in an Alfa Romeo 4C or Audi R8 they feel every bit as sport as they look. I don't necessarily feel that way about this car. It's as capable and fast as it looks. It's way more practical than it looks. It just doesn't feel quite as special as I want it to for some reason.

TL;DR: Great all around car, performs exceptionally, and is practical beyond what people give it credit for. Is perhaps just a bit too balanced to make it as fun as you might want on everyday roads.

#reddit #autonews #auto #cars

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williamalderwick-blog · 7 years ago

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Love in the age of Facefuck: Iphigenia Baal’s Merced es Benz

Original unedited text; a poorly edited version appeared in Real Review issue 4, Summer 2017. I guess I always was a little bit in love with Iphigenia Baal. I remember seeing glimpses of a whirlwind careening through parties, pubs, gigs, the backstages of shows with all of London’s seedy nightlife scrolling behind her as if the rolling backdrop of a private theatre, moving like a comet burning its own path through the heavens, a singular orbit governed by laws all its own and beware all those that fall within its thrall. I recall a hazy cloud of curling hair, gap toothed, cheekbones, eyes that I now want to say were green, deepest hazel green flecked gems. Eyes that burned right through you, unforgivingly. Contemptuously. They had an intensity, a holding you to something, whatever it was. That’s what I remember most, a kind of smouldering raging intensity to truth — the kind that no one can really live with. She was staff writer at Dazed at a time when, on the dole in a band and sleeping on friends couches or at the studio, I thought being on staff to write was just about the greatest job anyone could have. Somethings never change. And she was simply beautiful. Beauty like in a Greek myth, with something timeless to it, otherworldly, at once raw and serene. All carried with such attitude, an always more hardcore than you kinda attitude. I guess I was struck. Intimidated. From afar, a distance. I never really knew her, of course, friends of friends of an acquaintance, the occasional party, a couple of words here or there, nodded acknowledgement outside an opening, doorways, corridors, street-level passings by. Stories and rumours and gossips…I guess I was a little bit in love with the idea of Iphigenia Baal. I’m probably wrong about the eyes. And so a decade later, in another life, Miss Baal’s second novel arrives in a package for me at the office sent by her publisher. Merced es Benz is a love story, a non-fiction novel charting the relationship between the author and one Ben Thomas — seemingly the love of her life. Bookended by Baal’s own reflective prose, we’re witness to the relationship through a little over eight months of Facebook posts and chats, SMS, BBM, email, and google searches. It’s an exhaustive record of every digital exchange between them. From SMS setting up a date or time to meet, likes on each other’s posts or updates, arguments raging across different handsets, emails, sponsored posts, Merced Es’ google search results into drug networks, police informants, flights to Australia. A transcript of all the links and communiques between them logged in the system run out in chronological order. Objet trouvé. Print All. It’s all text-speak dialogue, slanged abbreviations, the ping-pong chat messaging we’re conditioned to now. Bite-sized fluid snippets. Situated in the media that now frame our social exchanges, it feels utterly modern. And it reads quickly. Pages are scanned, scrolled rather than read. The layout echoes user interfaces — like the wireframes used to blueprint a webpage design. And yet it’s also antiquated, a rolling-back to an archaic version — Facefuck v1.3.2 circa 2011. The drama is often in the details. You find yourself checking the timestamps of text exchanges, noting the gaps, the jumps, the ellipses. Merced Es traveling across London to meet Benz, only to be stood up, the messages repeating, ten minutes, twenty minutes, two hours no response, ‘where are you’s turning to anger then rage towards the other who only resurfaces the next morning. Everything feels real, and these are conversations, relationships, exchanges, acts of dickishness and inconsolable rejection that everyone can relate to, has been, played out. It’s London love baby, utterly relatable stories as old as the hills and bitched across spilling pints in pub corners across the capital forevermore. As a teen, Baal was nicknamed ‘that Mercedes chic’ by her friends for wearing one of the iconic three-pointed-star-in-a-circle emblems snatched from the hood of a fancy MB motor around her neck. In Benz, she finds her completing half. Star-crossed lovers, a real-life Romeo and Juliette for the digital age. Merced es Benz has that touch of fate about it. Love is a fiction, a story we weave, to entwine us together. After opening with their first exchange online, Benz responding to a characteristically disdainful ‘Facefuck’ status update from Merced Es, the book jumps ahead to the immediate aftermath of Thomas’s untimely death from a drug overdose in July 2012. Everything unfolds under the shadow of this tragedy — a death that perhaps if not accidental, if not a suicide, might awfully be wilful. Heartbreak even. A deep sadness pervades the reading of the couple’s exchanges. A constricting fatality born of the knowledge of what is to come. The whole book is a looking back, involving both a deciphering and an occlusion. You read searching for clues why, as well as vainly attempting to forget what you know so as to experience the couple’s shared moments in something approaching an authentic innocence. But death shadows, a constant companion inexorably pulling us back towards the curtain closed. It’s a story of a doomed love told from the surviving half. A story of survival, of the telling required to ensure the other half lives on, can become full again once more. No longer simply that Mercedes chic. There is of course the gap here between the author and her avatar or handle, between Ben Thomas and Benz. Merced Es both is and is not Baal. They elide, and this layering, merging, pulling away, leaving out, this différence, is dynamic. In the same way, all the events and action of their relationship are absent. In between texts or emails we have to guess and imagine what transpired. Read between the lines, and project our own experiences into their exchanges, in order to make sense of the trace. A deciphering of what-must-have-to-have-happened to provoke this. Thus as one looks for the source, for the reasons why, all we have are the traces of events that have always already happened elsewhere. Events that have been removed, isolated, quarantined. What we read is reductive — reduced to a trace that itself is raw, it’s copy itself, a copy of a copy, and we’re left with the bare bones. We see the outlines of rich media, image boxes with no filler, YouTube links vacant. Absentia in media res. Just like the object of love (Benz) himself. Severed from both real life and the interconnecting digital web, the printed page is a mausoleum, but doubly here, triply even. Perhaps the only true archive or resting place of our online conversations is precisely offline — otherwise they are still live, active, full of potential to change, be rewritten, re-skinned. I toy with the idea of looking up the video links on YouTube, copying the URLs out verbatim, for veracity, to establish the mood, to listen to the same track by The Rutts. But somehow that’s not the point. Memory, clouded and somewhat made up, filled in over the gaps, feels more authentic to this story. Across the transposed Facebook group patter names are scratched out, effaced for anonymity but still recognisable, half legible, if you know what or who you’re looking for. Photographers, stylists, former colleagues from one magazine masthead to another, public house heroines and pinups. It’s a familiar world, that London of the turn of the decade. Perhaps always in negative, Baal captures the nihilistic decadence of modern urban twenty-something living. Our protagonists are neurotic, directionless within a drifting affluence, never short of a party full of people they loath who are their best friends. Alienation for the trust-fund generation at the end of history. All this… and nowhere to go, nothing to do. Baal’s unforgiving cynicism and rejection of this scene shines through. The tawdry sub-gossip milieu of rich kids idling the world from party to party to beach to island to who cares where next with the touch of overly perfumed Louis XIV court intrigues in their drama and tousling themselves up with all the braggadocio of a rap promo. This centrifugal star-lit social scene is contrasted with hints of stunning dawn views from her 15th floor flat in a Bow housing estate tower block out in deepest East London. But how much of all this is true I ask myself, is this real? I certainly remember seeing some of these posts on Baal’s Facebook, the letter that got her fired from Dazed, the ‘I fucked… and all I got was this petty vendetta’ t-shirt. Maybe one of those anonymous likes is mine. Who was Ben? Did the author make him up? If not, what would his friends or family make of who you read about here? Did she write/ make all of this up? Within a couple of quick searches Benz is revealed in the tabloid daily reports of his death. But even these always by a kind of second degree, headlines that the friend of so and so rock star kid it boy died. His death simply isn’t the story, isn’t the news, it’s his associates. Even here we miss him. I think perhaps Merced es Benz is an attempt to reclaim part of this person lost. A way of saying it did happen, that for all of everything else he was/is/was this, at least to me. The idea and love of a person is surpassed on all sides by them, until that love is all we have left. How much of this is a transcript? Untouched, unedited, unwritten? To read is to be invited in to be a witness, but of what? All the events here, everything that happens, happens elsewhere, IRL somewhere, off read, off piste, off script. Merced es Benz is an account from the aftermath of a cataclysm. It’s the act of piecing together how we got here, a looking back and re-reading of archives. It’s the act of the bereft that Baal puts us as readers into, into her shoes. It’s also the act of writing today. Through technology tracing our every move, thought, exchange, calorie burnt, website visited, link clicked, the great book of being is being written by machines in a language we can’t read. What we mean is our trace, the trail we leave behind through the systems we traverse. In this way the writer is effaced from the writing. Baal tries to take herself out of the equation, effacing herself, by instead reaching towards becoming a pure conduit to this trace of her past. It’s an act of carrying that trace forward — an act of not acting, of not writing but rather of reading — the writer in negative. In absentia. But in this way we become her — recalling and returning to the aftermath, trying to make sense of the event(s) of our lives. This non-writing — this archaeology, this digging up — this is ours, perhaps all that we have ultimately. There is a great vulnerability and honesty in Baal’s non-fiction novel. It pulls no punches, about anyone, least of all herself. If we’re sympathetic to her characters, they’re not faultless. We’re welcomed inside the expressions of their neuroses, doubts and rages to each other just as much as any love between them. And here’s the thing, thinking back I wonder if there is really love in this story, in so far as it’s a story of a failed, doomed romantic encounter. Almost as if the love each of our protagonists held for the other, living outside the book, the traces of its expression and thus their ability to communicate it to each other, couldn’t navigate these mediums between them — perhaps it’s a warning about love being innately atrophied in the age of Facefuck. You’ll only find love in the real world. Recently I’ve been seeing clips of scorpions and crabs shredding their shells recur on my social feed. There’s something strangely satisfying in watching the disconnecting, withdrawing and pulling away under the hard surface, the reveal of the soft vulnerable pink fresh skin exposed underneath and then the empty husk left behind. The hollow shape of the thing, there but without substance, without content. I think of this husk in relation to Merced es Benz. There is bravery in letting oneself be so laid bare, opening out the vulnerability and shape of oneself. An affirmation to say a kind of, I once was this. To be a writer is to share of yourself, invite others to step inside this externalised piece of you. You can only really write what you know, or write to unlearn yourself. Perhaps in reaching for an already externalised trace of herself at the intersections with another person, Baal finds something that enables an authentic intimate encounter with an other for a reader, a kind of genericity that everyone can reach towards. Ultimately, I think Baal suggests that writing today is neither simply the digital trace nor using that trace as a medium of expression, but lies beyond, within a composition or choreography that primes the possibility for encounter. And against the comforting alienation of our self-reinforcing media bubbles, her book asks how one can encounter the other, perhaps even how can one love today? Told almost entirely through social media posts and digital communications, about love and about death, Merced es Benz is an uncovering of the past and a trying to come to terms with it; it addressing the nature, and thus future, of writing itself as confronted with technology and the mediations of today; and, for the old Badiouian in me, it is about fidelity to an event, twice over, that of their love encounter, and that of his death; the one nested in the other, for only by faithfully expressing the truth of the first can one face that of the second. I guess I’m still a little bit in love with Iphigenia Baal, but not in the way I was before. Now, perhaps on her terms, in the way that she invites us readers all into a love that is forever lost, to step into these moments, and feel and watch and recall through the moments of our own lives, what it is to know, to love someone — if not the writer then perhaps her Benz.

Merced Es Benz by Iphgenia Baal is published by Book Works as part of the Semina series guest edited by Stewart Home. Order a copy here.

#bookworks #iphgenia baal #stewart home #merced es benz #real review #literature #essay

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