#i still liked marriage of figaro though

[grntaire]

this line. it's both condescending and cautionary. AND it's not the first time their love has been described as young or immature.

this is.

in this scene, the swede is singing "voi che sapete", from mozart's opera the marriage of figaro (mozart hadn't even been born yet, lmao) not only is the text of this piece particularly poignant to ed and stede's love story, especially at this point in the story, but its performance practice is also inherently queer.

the aria is sung by the character cherubino, an adolescent boy who is experiencing love and feelings of attraction for the first time. the song is one that cherubino wrote himself for the countess, on whom he has a crush. he's then coaxed into singing for her by the character susanna, who accompanies him. here's a translation of the text:

Ladies, see if I have it in my heart. I'll tell you what I'm feeling, It's new for me, and I understand nothing. I have a feeling, full of desire, Which is by turns delightful and miserable. I freeze and then feel my soul go up in flames, Then in a moment I turn to ice. I'm searching for affection outside of myself, I don't know how to hold it, nor even what it is! I sigh and lament without wanting to, I twitter and tremble without knowing why, I find peace neither night nor day, But still I rather enjoy languishing this way. You who know what love is, Ladies, see if I have it in my heart.

but, since cherubino is an adolescent boy whose voice hasn't dropped yet, cherubino is always played by an adult mezzo-soprano. so in most cases (though very much not all), he's played by a woman in drag. (these roles are actually very common in opera, they're called pants/trousers roles!)

so like. it's an aria about feeling feelings you've never felt before, your body reacting in a way you've never felt before, and being both overwhelmed and exhilarated by the experience even though it feels like it's driving you mad. and also it's gay as fuck.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - North and South - Chapter 2

After the wedding, Margaret heads home with her father, who was also at the wedding. Her mother is noticeably absent, due to not having money to afford a new gown — despite it being her only niece’s wedding. Mrs. Shaw does not guess this is the reason, due to her only complaints being consumed by “I was in an age gap marriage” (I am paraphrasing, but this is kind of what it says!) and unable to remember what it’s like to be poor.

It seems that Mrs. Shaw thinks that her sister, Maria (aka, Mrs. Hale) got the better end of the husband bargain, with him being handsome, only eight years older, mild-mannered, and most importantly, they loved each other. However, as it shows later in the chapter, Mrs. Hale thinks Mrs. Shaw got the better end of the bargain, because she got a rich husband and now has to want for nothing material.

What can we glean from this? Both sisters are very similar and have “grass is greener” syndrome. They let their anxieties consume them rather than being happy with what they have, and, at least in Mrs. Hale’s case, it does affect those around her.

Margaret does not seem to mind that her mother is not there, as she has been needed by everyone in the past 48 hours and getting to meet her mother in the comfort of their home is preferable to the hustle and bustle of the Shaw/Lennox clan. In reference to how busy they have made her, she says she had to play the part of a “Figaro”. After some research, I found this was a comic character from several plays, operas, and serialized newspapers that was a barber-turned-valet. I believe the symbolism comes from the character being a busy servant that was very much in demand from how useful he was, though feel free to correct me/dive deeper into this.

While Margaret is happy to be going home, she is sadder than she thought she would be at the prospect of leaving Harley Street and notices something is different about her father sleeping in the carriage beside her. Not only has his hair (once a rare blue-black) gone gray, his face is also still anxious even in sleep, which it never used to be in waking. She tries to discover the cause of this change and wonders if this has anything to do with Frederick not being in England anymore.

Because of the way she laments about him and his situation, I can only assume Frederick is her brother and because of “terrible affair” as a navy man, he is unable to come back to England, though he does write to his family occasionally. The issue is Margaret was not there when the incident happened and only got a partial story from her aunt: all she can hope to do is comfort her parents and ease their anxiety.

Margaret is excited to return home, of course. She is back in her element with the forest and returns to her old habit of tramping along the underbrush, breathing in the fresh air. However, not all is well at home. As aforementioned, her mother is not happy with her situation and while she does not take it out on Margaret, she does take it out on Mr. Hale.

Mrs. Hale constantly compares how the bishop treats Mr. Hale compared to how he could be treated if they moved elsewhere. I tried to find some context on how this system works between the parish priests and the bishop — as I’m not Catholic myself and have no personal knowledge of this — but I could not find much. I’m assuming this is the Catholic church we’re talking about, since they reference a bishop and Mr. Hale as a parish priest. Of course, please feel free to add onto this. All I can conjecture is that because Mr. Hale is a parish priest in a small town, this does not afford him much connection or wealth. My understanding is that the bishop is aligned more with the government, so he could — in theory — give Mr. Hale those connections or move him to a better position if he tried for it. He has done so with other priests (less qualified than Mr. Hale, in his wife’s opinion), but has not budged with Mr. Hale.

However, Mr. Hale does not want this: he’s happy with what he has at Helstone and the increased pressure from his wife causes him to “shr[i]nk”. Margaret does what she can to make her mom happy in their home, rather than also pressuring her father. Why does she take her father’s side in this? I believe it’s for a number of reasons:

1) Margaret is more like her dad than her mom — she doesn’t long for the rich, fancy life that her mother does and that is one of the things she misses least about her life on Harley Street. She also have a more mild temper and can empathize with her dad.

2) She loves her home by the woods — if they get a “better living” (as her mother put it) that would likely involve moving to a more central part of the town — or a different town entirely — and she wouldn’t be able to spend her time outside in the forest or walking to different cottages all day.

3) While this isn’t a new change in her mother, perhaps she believes she can talk her out of it easier than her father, even though he is mild-tempered. After all, just because Margaret is mild-tempered does not mean she doesn’t have a determined streak; indeed, we’ve already seen evidence of it and so she assumes her mother can be reasoned with easier than putting more pressure on her father.

4) The request itself is bound to lead to more; “grass is greener” people are usually never satisfied. Perhaps Margaret has seen this before in the past, where her father has given her mother what she wants and it has only led to her asking more of him. Maybe she hopes to nip it in the bud this time since it’s obviously gotten worse and is negatively affecting her father.

Keep in mind, these are theories on my part; we don’t know the exact reason as of yet, but I think it’s interesting to think about the reason why she takes her father’s side!

We can also trace the source of her mother’s discontent: “the time of the mutiny in which Frederick had been engaged.”

Ok, so that does tell us a lot here. While in the navy, Frederick took part in a mutiny and was likely exiled from England (from the limited understanding we have — more is likely going to be said later). Now — if this is what happened — the penalty for mutiny is usually death in those times, so it’s a pleasant surprise he made it out ok. Later passages state he’s in Rio (Rio de Janerio, Brazil, I’m assuming?) currently and the few letters he does send, Margaret does not know the full news of. Why would her mother start to resent their home for this? Many understandable reasons:

1) Obviously, the house carries many memories of Frederick. Having daily reminders of your son that can never come back to this home and you can never see again (with you in too delicate health to travel — which she is) is painful.

2) Perhaps the neighbors closest to her were not very sympathetic when they found out about this mutiny. Mrs. Hale had hoped they would be a listening ear and instead the Hale family became the center of gossip in that part of town (that she knew of). Maybe the other part of town brought her gifts and became that listening ear. But doesn’t that seem backwards for the “richer” side to be nice and the “poorer” side to be gossipy? Yes, it does, but everything is about appearances. If I had to guess, both sides were probably gossiping, but the “richer” side did their part of bringing gifts to seem sympathetic and Mrs. Hale took that as actually being sympathetic. From what we’ve already seen of her, she values material things (gift-giving is probably her love language lol) and this would win her over. This is a lot of reaching I know, but it could be possible, right? The only reason we don’t hear about it is because we’re in Margaret’s POV and she doesn’t know anything about what happened when Frederick’s mutiny took place.

3) Similar to the first point, sometimes when you’re somewhere with an extremely bad memory, you want to leave that place and will justify your reasoning with whatever you can. Think about the feelings Mrs. Hale must’ve felt when she opened a letter to find that her son was exiled and would not be coming home. Did she even find out from him, or was it a generic navy office letter? Sometimes, people cope by wanting to start somewhere fresh and this could be a product of that.

4) Being “poor” is what got their son into this situation in the first place. He wouldn’t have had to become a navy officer if they had more money, right? He could have taken up a different position, such as a merchant. Perhaps in a misguided attempt to “fix” this, she is trying to better their situation. Of course, it is too little, too late to actually change anything, but she still wants to try for her daughter. She is already trying to match her with a handsome tradesman from the other part of town she wants them to move to!

5) A bit unrelated, but I also think she’s moving her worries about Frederick onto worries about their living situation. Kind of like how you can feel anger when you’re actually sad, her whole “we need to be more rich” isn’t actually the problem she has; the problem she has is “we need our son back”. Having more money or influence wouldn’t be able to bring their son back — it can’t — but channeling those worries is (what she thinks) a better use of her time because it’s something she can actually control.

6) Her maid, Dixon. Later in the chapter, it describes Dixon as seeing Frederick as her favorite and cleaning his room once a week as if he was coming home, despite her never doing housework. Sweet, right? Well…I see Dixon as causing more tension in the house than good because she resents Mr. Hale for taking her and Mrs. Hale away from their cushy lifestyle at Beresfords House (where Mrs. Hale grew up) and she sees herself as a “protecting fairy” against Mr. Hale. If Frederick was her favorite and Mr. Hale’s situation is what led Frederick to be a navy officer…yeah, I imagine Dixon often laments about their living situation and how perhaps Frederick would still be there if they were living somewhere else (that’s not guaranteed, of course, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t say it!!). Having someone constantly whisper disparaging things about your husband and his house is not a good idea — almost an Iago to your Othello, if you catch my drift. Again, it’s not entirely related, but I think it does link back to Mrs. Hale’s resentment of the house.

After reading this, you may think one or the other side is “more correct” — and that’s fine if you do — but I think both sides are valid and just need to communicate. It’s not Mrs. Hale’s fault she resents Helstone and it’s not Mr. Hale and Margaret’s fault that they love it. What they need to work on is communicating as a family and reaching a good compromise that suits everyone.

Margaret does attempt to do this by taking her mother on daily walks, which works for a bit until autumn sets in and her mother’s health is affected. It’s hard for Margaret to engage with either of them at this point or find much of anything to do; her mother doesn’t like being read aloud to (go off, I guess?), and encouraged her husband to spend all of his time in his study with parish affairs rather than fun card activities, so no family game night either. He doesn’t even go to visit his parishioners (which Margaret could probably be a part of), because his wife discouraged that as well (not to be mean, but I’m starting to see why maybe they weren’t the nicest to her after Frederick got banished, she doesn’t seem to engage with them very much?!). The books they have on hand for her to read are ones she has already read — or just very short. In other words: this girl is about to start singing “When Will my Life Begin” from Tangled. /j

So, she tells her mother about life in Harley Street, but it often leads to her mother comparing their homes again and Margaret longing to ask about Frederick. But she has a conundrum: around her mother, she thinks she should ask her dad instead and then the reverse happens around her father. She procrastinates this difficult conversation and I can kind of understand why. Her parents both seem like delicate people who get anxious easily; now that she has noticed how “old” her dad looks, I imagine she’s noticed a similar change in her mom and doesn’t want to risk damaging their health. Additionally, their emotional health seems pretty unstable as well and she probably sees that in a new light as an adult and doesn’t want to risk destabilizing that.

Margaret does seem to notice that her father seems…off. He’s not only more anxious (which can happen at the slightest of causes), he’s distracted too and he’s the first to snatch up letters whenever the postman arrives. So does he have news of Frederick that he’s not sharing with either of them? It sure seems that way.

BUT enough gloom! Margaret’s a fall girlie and she’s determined to sketch what Helstone looks like, since she learned art with Edith. It’s a fine October day when a housemaid announces Margaret has a visitor: Henry Lennox.

My honest reaction:

This guy again?! He did say he would be checking up on her…

Jk jk, I’m eager to see what this meetup is going to be like and it’s going to be super hard not to read ahead!!!! But I won’t, because I like being surprised and giving my reactions/analysis as it comes.

In the meantime, I want to sum up a bit more about Margaret’s mother and father, since I think they are characters we’ll be seeing for the foreseeable future. Again, using bullet points because I went long.

Mrs. Hale:

Ambitious

Loves her family

Deep sadness for her son

Apathetic to the parishioners

Hates fun (jk but seriously what is her deal — no reading, backgammon OR visiting schoolchildren??)

Controlling towards her husband

Dreams of grandeur for her daughter

Married for love — happy at one time

Delicate health

Not inflexible (walks did help temporarily)

Overall, not a glowing character review, but like with Mrs. Shaw it’s early and she’s not heartless; she does describe her as kind towards her daughter and did marry for love, so at one time she was a more tender person than she seems to be now. The whole “apathetic to the parish” thing did happen before Frederick though, so I attribute that to her having come from a more well-off family and not understanding the importance of these visits. Perhaps she also wanted to keep her husband closer to her — although you’d think she would do that by actually engaging with him, but ok? Overall, like every other Gaskell character, she is not black and white and we cannot paint her as such. I hope to learn more positive traits that I can add here because I do seem to be just bashing on her, but I am trying to find good things to say!

Mr. Hale:

AnxiousTM

Aging

Mild-tempered

Quiet

Tries to please his wife

Determined streak

Bottles up issues

Content with his life OR

Does not like confrontation

Easily depressed/distressed

So, it’s unclear whether he won’t better his living situation because he doesn’t want to confront the bishop or because he’s actually happy with Helstone. Due to his anxious personality (can relate btw), I would *guess* the former, but it could very well be the latter — or both! For someone who is anxious, it is very difficult to walk up to what is the equivalent of (I’m assuming is) your boss and saying “Hey, give me a better living situation right now! I’m better than the other parish priests you hired!” His wife makes it sound easy, but…idk from my standpoint, that is quite the opposite!!! However, if I saw that my partner was as miserable as Mrs. Hale so obviously is (and for more reasons than just the living situation thing), then I would at least consider it. Again, it’s a complex situation, and I feel like both of these characters are not helping each other by not communicating and continuing to ignore the other’s needs. In that sense, Mr. Hale is also in the wrong for just kind of shying away from the conversation, instead of telling her no OR having a deeper conversation about this. I want to add more to Mr. Hale’s character chart other than “anxious” but we don’t hear much from him in this chapter, so hopefully we get more of him soon!

One more thing: I made some important additions thanks to someone in my reply section, so if you want to peer review/correct me, I may have actually already done that in the reblog section, so please check that out first! I also explain why I’m reblogging it over just editing this post. If I didn’t address it, feel free to add on and I’ll edit the additions post!

I think that’s it: see you next week North and South fans!

[inviiberu]

[MHYK] 2021 Proposal Lines

2021 Proposal Lines from all 21 wizards! Translation by me and proof-reading and some revisions of the western wizards lines by @amorest-viesse​

✧˖°Central Country°˖✧

Oz: Even time, which feels like an eternity, is finite. Think carefully about whom you want to be with in this limited time you have.

Arthur: “Will you make miso soup for me every day of our life?” …I hear this is a common way of proposing in your world. We don’t have miso soup here, but I think it’s wonderful that such a simple word can become a pledge of eternal love.

Cain: We lose our magic if we break a promise, but there must be some other power you gain by makin’ a promise to someone you love dearly. I hope that I can make a promise like that one day.

Riquet: I love you Master Sage! Um, if I may ask, which of the wizards do you love the most? …Huh, me? Ehehe~ That makes me so happy!

✧˖°Northern Country°˖✧

Snow: If I were to ever get married, I would like to say the line that the previous Sage taught me. Ehem. Sage, would you like a meal? Or maybe a bath? Or maybe… Hohoho~

White: Should we be reborn again, I hope to also spend my next life with you. …Hohoho~ That’s my favourite pick-up line. Did I make you swoon?

Mithra: If you love me, please make sure it lasts for a thousand years.

Owen: How foolish of you to ask a promise of me, just as foolish as love itself.

Bradley: Marriage, huh… I’d probably consider it if it were with the kinda guy I wouldn’t be able to live without. Well, it’s not every day ya find someone who’d love ya like that.

✧˖°Eastern Country°˖✧

Faust: You want me to teach you the most common ways to propose in this world? How should I know? I could teach you the most common curses though.

Shino: A proposal is an important line you only get to say once. I should think about it while I still can.

Heathcliff: To think that someone might propose to me one day... I've no idea when that could be, but I'm getting nervous already.

Nero: It seems like everyone's proposin' left and right today. Marriage ain't really for it a guy like me, but I suppose it wouldn't be so bad to live a peaceful life with the person I love.

✧˖°Western Country°˖✧

Shylock: We Western wizards are known for seeking pleasure and thrills. Thus, if you'd like, I would be glad to entertain you for the rest of your life... Am I joking, you ask? Would you like to find out?

Murr: Hey, Master Sage! Gimme a proposal! Huh? Why? 'Cause I wanna know what you'd say! C'mon!! Please?

Chloe: A proposal!? Ehehe, just thinking about it makes me blush, but I think it's wonderful to be able to tell someone how much you truly care. Someday, if I ever get the chance, I want to be able to confess with everything I've got.

Rustica: Have you ever proposed to someone, Master Sage? What did you tell them? We Western wizards are quite fond of love stories after all. Why don't you confide in me next time?

✧˖°Southern Country°˖✧

Figaro: What kind of confession would you like most, Master Sage? I'll tell you whatever you want to hear.

Rutile: “My eyes are like a lake of stars. I gaze at you with everlasting love” …Fufu, beautiful, isn’t it? That was a verse from when my mother and father met. I hope that, someday, I will find a love like theirs too.

Lennox: If I had a significant other...? Ah, I know. I'd like to protect them, so they'll never have to feel sad.

Mitile: I suppose my brother might get married someday, but I'm sure whoever his partner is, they'll be a wonderful person! Eh, what about me? Well, if I ever meet someone, I'll definitely make sure to propose to them in a cool way!

[jariktig]

Good evening :D for the weird ask game:

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

28. five songs to describe you?

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

52. favorite font?

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

How do you so unerringly pick the ones I have to think hard about? It's a talent...

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

I liked them all except for Thomas Hardy; my favourite at the time was probably Sense and Sensibility, and the one that's stuck with me most at this stage a poetry anthology whose title I don't remember, but it included among others Wilfred Owen and John Donne. That I read under the desk while we were studying the half-dozen war poems we were supposed to do for GCSE, and it got me interested in all sorts of things I'd never met before. And also I suppose in the structure of poetry.

28. five songs to describe you?

There is a startling dearth of songs involving short round pragmatic middle-aged mathematicians, or love as the kind of thing one builds over decades, or just being happy really... doing my best:

Ei! wie schmeckt der Coffee süße from Bach's Coffee Cantata was certainly me until recently, and would be still if I were allowed to drink coffee;

The very first duet from the Marriage of Figaro, wherein Susanna and Figaro are clearly a team building a life together - and listening to one another.

Bellowhead's Yarmouth Town, in which the young lady is so very practical and clear about what she wants - though I have to say I've never had the kind of looks that would bring twenty sailors to my bedroom window at night.

Miss Otis Regrets, on the premise that I spend my life apologising for being late (and the slightly formal middle-class thing is me). Though I can't see myself shooting someone because he'd ditched/cheated on me; life is too short.

And this is a cheat really, but 4' 33" for the idea of leaving some space for other people to step into.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

Honestly, whichever one I happen to have on when it seems necessary. Do people have the sort of lives where they mostly know in advance when they're going to have to step up? But for clothes that make me feel confident and look like someone to be reckoned with - which I guess is what the question is getting at - fitted black dress with silver trim that looks like staples set in parallel, grey suede biker jacket, fishnet tights, black and grey stompy boots with Decepticon lace tags, gold and silver earrings set with rough diamonds.

52. favorite font?

Times New Roman. I know other fonts are easier for people to read, so I use them. But I love the way it looks.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is. (from Terry Prachett's Carpe Jugulum).

[princesssarisa]

@ariel-seagull-wings sent me a message asking which operas I think the Muppets would like best.

So here are my headcanons: the favorite operas of some of the Muppets.

Kermit – I think he would like La Bohéme. It's a simple slice-of-life, not too melodramatic as opera go, it blends comedy and melancholy, and even though it ends sadly, it's still a heartwarming portrayal of a group of friends. He might also enjoy Musetta's diva antics: they would remind him of a certain pig.

Miss Piggy – Wagner's operas, especially the Ring Cycle. They're larger-than-life and full of passion and spectacle, they're great vehicles for prima donnas with big voices, and because of the vocal power they require, they tend to be vehicles for plus-sized divas too.

Gonzo – The Magic Flute. He would like the weirdness of it, and no lady in opera would be more beautiful to him than Papagena. She would remind him of Camilla.

Fozzie Bear – The Barber of Seville. The most famous of all comic operas.

Scooter – The Marriage of Figaro. Its intellectual depth and history as sociopolitical commentary would appeal to his nerdiness, and because he's the Muppet Theatre's "gofer," he'd enjoy an opera where the servants are the heroes.

His sister Skeeter – She would also like Figaro, but for a different reason: because of its proto-feminist themes, with strong-minded women banding together to teach a lesson to a powerful, badly-behaved man.

Rowlf – Fidelio, because he loves Beethoven. He even mentions it in passing in the song "Eight Little Notes." (Quartets, quintets, fugues and sonatas, plus an opera and a few cantatas...")

Sam the Eagle – Porgy and Bess, because it's the great American opera. At least that's what he would say; if he were really as cultured as he pretends to be and actually saw it, he would be appalled by the depiction of drugs and violence.

Rizzo the Rat – Don Giovanni. He would see a kindred spirit in Leporello: a sarcastic lovable coward who gets dragged unwillingly through crazy hijinks and occasionally steals other people's food.

Pepe the King Prawn – Carmen. It's Spanish (in setting, at least) and spicy, like he is.

Robin the Frog – Hansel and Gretel, because it's an opera for kids and about kids, where kids triumph over evil.

Animal – He would also like Hansel and Gretel: all that good food onstage! He'd probably charge up there and start eating the gingerbread house, and wouldn't even stop when he realized it wasn't real gingerbread.

Statler and Waldorf – They would make fun of it all, just like they do everything else.

[generouskittentidalwave]

Oh boy let me tell you, doing this research was not easy and took a whole WHOLE lot of digging just to find.

Finding what Tezuka did and his own personal thoughts on it was like trying to find a small needle in a bunch of big needles in a haystack. I could barely find people talking about it in the first place, it took 5 hours of searching and I fell asleep at my desk out of pure exhaustion. The few sources that I did find on this quest of knowledge were a big mess of multiple different sources from your everyday people, to interviews, articles, people who knew Tezuka personally, etc.. but hardly anything was stated by Tezuka himself and that was a major problem that I faced.

People can form assumptions on somebody, and what they were thinking and what they could've been thinking and who they could be as a person in this situation based on the images they saw displayed, but in a situation like this none of it can be considered straight factual as it's only an assumption based on a few images and not straight from the source or being looked at with a full whole. And for this situation you can't just pass it off as "Well everyone was racist back then, it's to be expected" as it's made clear Tezuka wasn't racist, hated all forms of conflicted in general, and especially hated racism. So this just left me with a huge question mark.

So I gathered information about things stated by Tezuka himself, with these things being even harder to find. Let's start with this one.

"One day, completely in my own style, I was playing Mozart’s Turkish March. All of a sudden a Black soldier entered the room. There was nothing really strange about an American soldier being at the YMCA. He took a sheet of music from the piano, and once I was finished playing began to sing in tenor.

It was something that I had heard before. It was a march. Eventually I realized that it was the aria “This Butterfly Shall Fly No More” from The Marriage of Figaro. To a Mozart piece, he had responded with a Mozart aria. He was a great opera fan, this intellectual Black soldier named Joe. . .

One day, after learning that I liked cartoons when I drew a quick caricature portrait of him, he brought me a mountain of American comic books. It was like the heavens opened and rained manna. There were absolutely no manga materials around at the time. I read through them like a worm, was overjoyed, and copied them obsessively. . .

My friendship with him might have been short, but it became the reason I decided to become a manga artist."

So his friendship with a black soldier named Joe and him drawing said soldier and that soldier giving him comics is what kick started his whole career as a mangaka, and he treasured his friendship with him. So that makes it clear that Tezuka had no hate in his heart against black people, only seeing them as people and he even saw him as a good friend, and crediting his interaction with him as the start of his mangaka career.

But as heartwarming as it is, that just confused me even more. He clearly had no hate towards black people, and his mangas make it even clearer that he absolutely hated racism and everything it stood for. So what gives? Why do his mangas have racist caricature and characterization of black people when he wasn't racist?

I believe it involves two words. The west.

Why do I say this? Tezuka took inspiration from Disney, he loved American comics stated by himself. And back then, even though he was made aware of the racism in America, Japan was still sheltered and he wasn't made aware of all of it, even if he tried to grasp the whole narrative it was hard given the time it was all set in.

In an article I read, it was stated that-

"He was accused of racism after drawing blacks in stereotypical fashion, but insisted that he was only continuing the styles he saw in American comics and films. This point has often been a source of constant soul-searching among Tezuka's publishers, especially in the USA. As of 2003, Dark Horse has begun to publish Tezuka's manga wholly unedited in the US, adding a disclaimer that states that while Tezuka held no racism himself, his artwork was a product of its time, and that further that it would be wrong to retroactively change his works without his input."

Now we can all agree that the way Dark Horse handled the situation caused mixed opinions amongst people, but we are here to focus on TEZUKA himself, not the company and their thoughts on it. Tezuka said that he only drew them the way he did because he was continuing the styles that he saw in the west. It's clear Tezuka wasn't trying to be racist, but unfortunately misrepresented black people because Tezuka wasn't aware of the whole picture and didn't realize that the way black people were portrayed in media was made on the same hate towards black people outside of the media in the real world.

This realization probably further soured his opinions on America's racist actions and beliefs and it seemed to have been driven home as shown by this article quote-

"Reactions over his images of black people did not fare much better. Tezuka remembered well how in the mid-1960s requests had come from U.S. black civil rights groups for the artist to present his black characters more realistically. In 1965 Tezuka reportedly met white executives from the U.S. television network NBC, who attempted to persuade Tezuka to present his black characters in a way more acceptable to the American public."

Now this was 1965, the same year when the civil rights act was created, and this was none other than NBC itself. Tezuka was caught in a rift between two sides that he is only now being really made aware of. Now I remember hearing about Tezuka meeting with black people so I'm assuming this was when he was getting his information and feedback from them that you asked about. But the meeting up part is only what I heard so take it with a grain of salt, I know I saw it in an article but that article ceased back into the haystack and despite my search I couldn't relocate it, so again take it with a grain of salt.

"Tezuka later recounted these incidents in interviews and even skeptically satirized his meeting with TV execs in his 1974 comic Kami no Toride (Paper Fortress). Tezuka eventually agreed to their conditions, but unlike the UCLA incident, he indicated retrospectively that he had misgivings about those racially oriented requests."

So in conclusion, yeah, Tezuka wasn't racist, he hated racism, he hated America being racially motivated and didn't like racist people trying to drag him into their bad intentions and him unfortunately being influenced by America's view of black people in media without even realizing it. And it's clear that he got better and better with drawing black people in manga as time went on. He made a genuine mistake, but that mistake doesn't make him any less of a good person who just wanted peace and everyone to get along. And that's what makes his story so incredible to read, especially with the time it was presented in. And this isn't the first time for him either as I recall it being mentioned that Tezuka had an interaction with a girl about one of his stories and after hearing her opinions on it decided to go about his female characters with more sensitivity. Tezuka was a good guy who, even as the god of Manga, had his own bumps along the way like the rest of us, but each time he made himself aware and bettered himself as a person. I think that makes him more of an incredible mangaka rather than just his title as the god of Manga.

My repost before this one is basically a TLDR of all this research that I did and I hope it helped clarify things a bit. I'm sure this isn't perfect, but it helped me to understand things a bit more and I hope it was able to help you as well ^^

I think this is a manga panel that captures Osamu Tezuka as a complicated mangaka who didn't always get race right.

In Vol 7, Astro Boy is recruited by a Japanese American immigrant to help an American robot register for the right to vote. The man gives Astro Boy a lecture on the racist atmosphere, how the whites mistreated Japanese immigrants.

But not only that, but he says "By the latter half of the twentieth century, white started treating us better, but they still acted horribly to Black people."

And said Black person in the panel is a racist caricature.

And you'll see those also in other Tezuka's work like Black Jack, which tackles anti-Black racism in both America and Japan, even decently drawn Black persons co-existing alongside Black caricatures.

So here is Tezuka in the 60s attempting to make a nuanced observation about American racism (that still speaks to us today) but still perpetuating an anti-Black caricature profile.

CW: Racist depiction below

[harry-leroy]

2020: Year of Opera

So, in order to expand my cultural horizons (and do this because I’ve been wanting to do this), I’m going to be trying to get through some operas this year! I’ll definitely be listening to these, and I’m going to try and find staged versions if I can - because opera is a form of theatre and performance is an important part of it. This list is based off of The Guardian’s List of Top 50 Operas, but if there’s one that you don’t see on here and recommend, let me know!

Crossed out titles will be the ones I’ve already listened to/watched, and ones with asterisks (*) by them will be ones that I’ve listened to parts of, but need to listen to the whole thing.

1) L’Orfeo - Claudio Monteverdi (1607)

2) Dido and Aeneas* - Henry Purcell (1689)

3) Guilio Cesare (Julius Caesar) - George Frideric Handel (1724)

4) Serse (Xerxes) - Handel (1738)

5) Orfeo ed Euridice (Orpheus and Eurydice)* - Christoph Willibald Gluck (1762)

6) Idomeneo - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1781)

7) Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) - Mozart (1786)

8) Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute)* - Mozart (1791)

9) Il Barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville)* - Gioachino Rossini (1816)

10) Guillaume Tell (William Tell)* - Rossini (1829)

11) Norma - Vincenzo Bellini (1831)

12) L’Elisir d’Amore (The Exilir of Love) - Gaetano Donizetti (1832)

13) Lucia di Lammermoor - Donizetti (1835)

14) Rigoletto - Giuseppe Verdi (1851)

15) La Traviata - Verdi (1853)

16) Don Carlos/Don Carlo - Verdi (1867)

17) Falstaff* - Verdi (1893)

18) Pagliacci - Ruggero Leoncavallo (1892)

19) La Bohème - Giacomo Puccini (1896)

20) Tosca* - Puccini (1900)

21) Madama Butterfly - Puccini (1904)

22) Turandot* - Puccini (1926)

23) Fidelio - Ludwig van Beethoven (1805)

24) Der Freischütz - Carl Maria von Weber (1821)

25) Lohengrin* - Richard Wagner (1850)

26) Tristan und Isolde* - Wagner (1865)

27) Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg - Wagner (1868)

28) Der Ring des Nibelungen - Wagner (1876)

29) Die Lustige Witwe (The Merry Widow) - Franz Lehár (1905)

30) Salome* - Richard Strauss (1905)

31) Der Rosenkavalier* - Strauss (1911)

32) Les Troyens - Hector Berlioz (1863/1890)

33) Carmen* - Georges Bizet (1875)

34) Manon* - Jules Massenet (1884)

35) Pelléas et Mélisande - Claude Debussy (1902)

36) The Bartered Bride - Bedrich Smetana (1866)

37) Boris Godunov - Modest Mussorgsky (1874)

38) Eugene Onegin - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1879)

39) The Queen of Spades - Tchaikovsky (1890)

40) Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk - Dmitri Shostakovich (1934)

41) War and Peace - Sergei Prokofiev (1944)

42) The Rake’s Progress - Igor Stravinsky (1951)

43) Jenufa - Leoš Janáček (1904)

44) Bluebeard’s Castle - Béla Bartók (1918)

45) Wozzeck - Alban Berg (1925)

46) Porgy and Bess - George Gershwin (1935)

47) Peter Grimes - Benjamin Britten (1945)

48) The Turn of the Screw* - Britten (1954)

49) King Priam - Michael Tippett (1962)

50) Le Grand Macabre - György Ligeti (1978)

Some Additional Operas not on that list that I want to listen to/finish listening to:

51) Armide - Jean Baptiste Lully (1686)

52) Proserpine (Proserpina) - Lully (1680)

53) Phaëton - Lully (1683)

54) Roland - Lully (1685)

55) Aida* - Verdi (1871)

56) Otello* - Verdi (1887)

57) Così fan tutte - Mozart (1790)

58) Parsifal - Wagner (1878)

59) Faust - Charles Gounod (1859)  

60) Les contes d’Hoffmann* - Offenbach (1881)

61) Elektra - Strauss (1909)

62) Rusalka* - Antonin Dvorák (1901)

63) La clemenza di Tito* - Mozart (1791)

64) Lakmé* - Léo Dilibes (1883)

65) La sonnambula - Bellini (1831)

66) Die Fledermaus - Johann Strauss II (1874)

67) Roméo et Juliette* - Gounod (1867)

68) Andrea Chénier - Umberto Giodano (1896)

69) Semiramide - Rossini (1823)

70) Dialogues of the Carmelites - Francis Poulenc (1956)

71) Anna Bolena - Donizetti (1830)

72) Les Huguenots - Giacomo Meyerbeer (1836)

73) Peer Gynt* - Edvard Grieg (1876)

74) Ariadne auf Naxos - Richard Strauss (1912)

75) Billy Budd - Britten (1951)

76) HMS Pinafore - Arthur Sullivan (1878)

77) Béatrice et Bénédict* - Berlioz (1862)

78) Edgar - Puccini (1889)

79) Hippolyte et Aricie - Jean-Philippe Rameau (1733)

80) The Merry Wives of Windsor - Otto Nicolai (1849)

81) Alceste - Gluck (1767)

82) Amahl and the Night Visitors - Gian Carlo Menotti (1951)

83) King Arthur* - Purcell (1691)

84) The Nose - Shostakovich (1929)

85) Castor et Pollux - Rameau (1737)

86) The Tempest - Thomas Adès (2004)

87) Die tote Stadt - Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1920)

88) Alfonso und Estrella - Franz Schubert (1822)

89) L’étoile - Emmanuel Chabrier (1877)

90) The Fairy Queen - Purcell (1692)

91) Where the Wild Things Are - Oliver Knussen (1983)

92) The Nightingale - Igor Stravinsky (1914)

93) L’enfant et les sortilèges* - Maurice Ravel (1925)

94) Punch and Judy - Harrison Birtwistle (1968)

95) Death in Venice - Britten (1973)

96) We Come to the River - Hans Werner Henze (1984)

97) Einstein on the Beach - Philip Glass (1976)

98) Taverner - Peter Maxwell Davies (1972)

99) A Midsummer Night’s Dream - Britten (1960)

100) The Prodigal Son - Britten (1968)

[randumbanimememes]

Ok so I really like classical music and my friend made me watch newsies so here’s a music piece that best describes each of the characters. Please keep in mind I only watched it once and retain information like an infant so if I got the character’s personality wrong, kindly I do not care.

1.) Jack Kelly-

Chopin Op. 53 Heroic Polonsise

Do I even need to elaborate? There is no other piece that suits him this well. He’s pretty much the protagonist. It’s makes sense.

https://youtu.be/p_iI1J0bALE

2.) Pulitzer-

Rachmaninoff Prelude in G minor Op. 23 No. 5

It’s strong, it’s villainous. Reminiscent of the bad guy doing unethical bad guy things. But In like, a classy and formal way.

https://youtu.be/SlcQWUn5DeI

3.) Crutchie

Chopin Etude Op. 25 No. 9 “Butterfly”

He’s vibing. Stumbling around, in his own world, I love him though. Not the brightest bulb in the drawer but. He got a good heart. Whimsical. Still got the sad moments though.

https://youtu.be/WZYHvEF84NQ

4.) Medda

Carmen Habanera - George Bizet

Theatrical, dramatic, and sassy. What better of a descriptor could there be? It’s literally an Opera piece. She also cares for our boy Jack Kelly. Honestly most opera pieces work. Mozart’s Rigoletto from the Marriage of Figaro.

https://youtu.be/KJ_HHRJf0xg

5.) Les (I think that’s his name I had to look it up)

“Bolero” -Maurice Ravel

A whimsical little orchestral marching piece that exudes nothing but pure naive obliviousness to his surroundings, yet the feeling of keeping one going despite that. Reminds me of childhood a bit. It’s a bit hard to describe why this one works but.,. It does.

https://youtu.be/r30D3SW4OVw

6.) Katherine

Gymnopedié No. 1 - Erik Satie

Ambient but mildly romantic. Honestly choosing one for her was kind of difficult but I think I got it for the most part. Rather, I can imagine her playing this more than I think it explains who she is. It also isn’t very indicative of her hothead side. But. Close enough ig.

https://youtu.be/2WfaotSK3mI

7.) Race

“In the hall of the mountain king” - Edward Grieg

Even non classical musicians know this piece. If I’m being totally honest, I forgot who race was for a minute and had to ask my friend, but now that I remember I can confidently say yes, he is loud and kind of a dumbass.

8.) Davey

Chopin, Etude Op. 25 No. 5 “wrong note”

It’s like, a naive and Studious energy of someone just trying to make it through life but, the further it goes on, the more rebellious it gets. By the end, it’s a completely different personality that’s is just pure sass.

https://youtu.be/g7C2it9cCsY

9.) ALBERT

Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6- Franz Liszt

It’s grand, Pretentious, and strong, and kind of like a goofy bassline. Himbo energy✨ not to be confused with Hungarian Rhapsody No 2, my favorite piece of music ever. There is however an interlude in the middle section where it gets quiet, skip that, we all know Albert has never been quiet his whole life.

https://youtu.be/gq5GoeHIUIA

And that concludes my Ted talk! Thanks for reading that whole thing, if you did, and I hope you’ll listen to a few of them on your way out.

[rayatii]

Raya Recounts: a brand-new series of overly-detailed opera summaries with unsolicited commentary!

I love making these!

Episode 3: Le nozze di Figaro

Le nozze di Figaro (“The Marriage of Figaro”) is a 4-act comic opera by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Yes, that Mozart, one of the most famous classical composers ever, both the era and the music genre in general. Many, many, MANY people outside the classical world WILL recognize some of his tunes, notably the strings serenade Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, the piano rondo movement Rondo alla Turca and his Symphony No. 40, and MANY others.

Starting out as a child prodigy, Mozart left an incredibly rich legacy in his pieces before his untimely death at age 35, sparking a famous rumor about him having been killed by composer Antonio Salieri, which was depicted in the iconic 1984 movie Amadeus. I don’t believe that. What I do believe, though, is that he may have been autistic, as shown by his somewhat eccentric behavior (I know, that is putting it VERY broadly, and I guess you’ll have to turn to @madmozarteanfelinefantasy for more info on this, but whatevs). When it comes to opera, Mozart composed his first opera at age 11, and that was just another area of classical music that he was incredibly prolific in.

The libretto for today’s selection was written by Lorenzo da Ponte (who was a frequent collaborator of Mozart’s, most famously for the “Da Ponte Trilogy” of operas which is made up of Don Giovanni, Così fan tutte and today’s selection, and who also wrote stuff for the aforementioned Salieri), based on play La folle journée ou le mariage de Figaro (“The crazy day or the marriage of Figaro”; I’m including both the OG French text and an English translation. Here’s also a performance of it. In French with no translation, tho. Sorry.) by Pierre Beaumarchais.

Le mariage de Figaro is actually a sequel to Beaumarchais’ earlier play Le barbier de Séville ou la précaution inutile (“The barber of Seville or the useless precaution”), which in turn was the basis for Rossini’s still-nowadays-incredibly famous opera Il barbiere di Siviglia (meaning the same thing as the first half of above; you know, the one with “FIGARO, FIGARO, FIGARO” and that one Looney Tunes cartoon). However, Rossini’s opera came out after Mozart’s; back in the days, the most famous adaptation of the play was one by Giovanni Paisiello (the same guy responsible for that aria Nel cor più non mi sento that’s in the famous 24 Italian Songs and Arias book that every opera student learns at one point (including Yours Truly), and that led to the Beethoven and Paganini variations). There’s also a sequel to Le mariage by Beaumarchais himself, but we don’t talk about it because its premise is total shit.

This play was known to have been incredibly scandalous back when it was first shown because of its criticisms of the upper class; it’s even said to have been responsible for the French Revolution, at least in part. So when Mozart and da Ponte decided to adapt it, it was considered a pretty controversial choice to say the least, and some changes had to be made to appease the Viennese censors. Despite all that, it was a success, and it remains one of the most performed operas in the entire world nowadays, and for good reason!

This was the first Italian opera* that I have ever watched in full, and probably one of if not the first opera that I really liked, and it remains one of my absolute favorite operas to this day. I still fondly remember listening to bits from that one recording that’s available on IMSLP (the 1955 Erich Kleiber recording) during the long school hours back in late 2019-early 2020.

Same method as usual, bolded solo character names and potentially bad Italian translations for the numbers. (anyone have suggestions for some non-Italian opera titles I could recount in the future???) The numbers are much easier to label than the last, as they are already divided as per the early-to-classical opera method.

This is for @madmozarteanfelinefantasy​, who is THE certified expert on Mozart’s operas (don’t try to deny it; I mean it), and also to @smile-at-the-stars​, for reminding me that this is another of these operas with a rather difficult-to-follow plot (you probably don’t remember, that was a pretty long time ago). As a result, it’ll probably be longer than the previous two installments, because there are LOTS of important points.

*an Italian opera written by an Austrian (therefore German-speaking) composer? Why? Well, Italian was pretty much the language of the Viennese nobility back in Mozart’s days, so...

Spoilers, of course!

First off, we get to listen to a boptastic, fast-paced overture in D major that I’d like to classify as being in sonata form, so famous that it’s frequently performed on its own in concert settings.

After that the curtain opens (that is, if the production didn’t decide to stage the overture; examples of those that did include the productions by the Met (the current one) and the Royal Opera House) on Act 1, in a half-furnished room in the Almaviva castle (“alma viva” more or less meaning “living soul” in Spanish), not far from Seville, sometime during the late-ish 18th century.

We see Figaro (a name invented by Beaumarchais, probably derived from “fils Caron”, meaning something like “son of Caron” in French, “Caron” being Beaumarchais’ actual last name), a bass (although he is nowadays considered going more into bass-baritone territory) and a servant to Count Almaviva, measuring the floor, while Susanna, a soprano who is Figaro’s fiancée and Countess Almaviva’s maid, is happily trying on a little bonnet or something (usually replaced with a more-recognizable wedding veil or flower crown or something like that), and the two are just being the most cutie-patootie thing and Couple Goals™ together. (Duettino (meaning “little duet”): Cinque... dieci... venti...; “Five... ten... twenty...”).

Susanna asks Figaro what he is so busy measuring. He replies that he is checking the space in which their bridal bed should be able to fit (they are to be married on this very day). Susanna is rather upset upon learning that this is the very room that they were given by the Count, as it is very close to their masters’ chambers, but she won’t tell Figaro why. He goes on about how practical it is that this room is close to the masters, as they can be at their service in no time whenever they get summoned (Duettino: Se a caso Madama la notte ti chiama; “If per chance Madam calls you at night”). Susanna retorts supposing that the Count should summon him one morning to some other end of the castle, and then immediately come to the room while she’s alone... Figaro is shocked but lets Susanna elaborate on her point.

She explains that the Count, a compulsive adulterer, has been trying to make advances on her recently, which is why he has been so generous towards her and Figaro; she learned about all that via Basilio, her singing teacher. In particular, the Count wants to exercise his feudal right (a feudal lord’s right to sleep with a servant girl on her wedding night) on her, even though he had previously abolished it.

At that moment, a bell rings; it’s the Countess calling Susanna. She and Figaro part lovingly, and Figaro remains alone, briefly ranting at the Count and vowing to outwit all of his petty schemes (Cavatina (aka a shorter type of aria): Se vuol ballare; “If you want to dance”), before leaving the stage.

At that moment, enter Bartolo, a bass and a doctor/lawyer, and Marcellina, an older woman who is listed as a soprano but is almost always sung by a mezzo-soprano nowadays, and a former servant of Bartolo’s. We learn that they are another threat to our main couple’s union, as Marcellina has plans to use some help from the Count in order to essentially force Figaro to marry her. Bartolo takes pleasure in partaking in this plan as a revenge towards Figaro for some event in the previous installment... (Aria: La vendetta; “Revenge”). (In the Royal Opera House’s 2006 production, they make out after this aria, and I’m just mentioning that because I find it funny.) Anyway, Bartolo leaves after he’s done, leaving a hopeful Marcellina alone in the room.

At that moment, Susanna comes back, and Marcellina, pretending not to see her, starts pretty much talking shit about her out loud. Once they both notice each other, they start volleying very subtle insults back and forth at each other in a sarcastically polite tone (Duettino: Via resti servita; “Go on, I’m your servant”. I took this from an English translation of the libretto, and I’m still not really sure about it), complete with a bunch of curtsies. This goes on until Susanna “compliments” Marcellina about her age. The first time, Marcellina starts getting irritated, but we get a reprise of the music and text, and when Susanna repeats her “compliment” about Marcellina’s age, this time, she emphasizes it more than once, causing Marcellina to leave in a huff.

Then, Cherubino (literally meaning “cherub” in Italian), yet another character-listed-as-a-soprano-and-almost-always-played-by-a-mezzo-nowadays and the Count’s page boy (because yes, he’s a trouser/pants/breeches role, a male character played by a woman singer, usually to emphasize youth, as in this case. It’s a pretty big part of what attracts lesbians to opera. I mean no offense in saying that!!), comes in running, asking Susanna for help. Turns out the Count is dismissing him after finding him alone with a girl the day before. He is especially desperate because this means he will no longer see his godmother the Countess, whom he has a pretty big crush on, and he wants Susanna to ask her to intercede on his behalf.

Cherubino then notices Susanna holding a ribbon and a nightcap. When he learns that they belong to the Countess, he snatches the ribbon to keep it for himself. Susanna starts chasing after him, to no avail. He decides to even it out by giving her the sheet music for a song that he wrote, telling her to read it to every woman in the castle. He then goes on to talk about the strange feelings he’s been experiencing recently (Aria: Non so più; “I don’t know anymore”. Check out this Belgian technopop version of the aria, it’s quite something); he is a straight teenage boy (although some people nowadays might insist on referring to him as nonbinary or a lesbian) of about 13 or so, and he’s got hormones that go all gaga when it comes to women (and love in general), and that’s quite new for him.

Upon noticing the Count arriving, Cherubino hides behind an armchair. The Count (who’s a baritone, by the way), starts making some more advances towards Susanna. She tries to repel them as politely as she can, but it doesn’t really work. He is interrupted upon hearing someone outside the room. Not wanting to be caught alone with Susanna, he tries to hide behind the armchair (where Cherubino is!!!!!). As he does, Cherubino rushes to the front of the armchair and curls up on it, as Susanna quickly covers him with a dress (that’s what’s written in the libretto; in some productions she does that with some random sheet).

Basilio (a tenor) comes in looking for the Count. He starts spewing shitty gossip to Susanna, insinuating something about how Cherubino came to see her (Susanna) alone and gave her that song he wrote, but especially going on about Cherubino’s blatant crush on the Countess. Enraged, the Count bursts out of his hiding place. There is much chaotic emotion (Trio: Cosa sento!; “What do I hear!”); the Count demands that Cherubino be thrown out of the castle, Basilio takes delight in this turn of events, and Susanna is quite upset. She nearly passes out (to this day, I’m still not sure whether it’s supposed to be pretend or not), and the Count and Basilio catch hold of her try to place her on the armchair (and often in most productions, the Count will try to touch her in a somewhat suggestive way). When she realizes where she is about to be placed, Susanna immediately jumps to her feet.

She continues to plead for Cherubino, but the Count won’t hear any of it; he tells her and Basilio about how he found him yesterday with Susanna’s cousin Barbarina (you know, that incident that Cherubino mentioned earlier). To demonstrate how he pulled a tablecloth off a table to reveal the hiding page boy, he pulls the dress/sheet off the armchair... thereby ALSO revealing the same hiding page boy!!!! (It’s even funnier when some productions make him do a double take.) Susanna is distraught, Basilio is even more amused, and the Count is even more enraged. He accuses her of some shit, but she and Cherubino manage to explain to him the whole truth about how this came to happen. The Count thus realizes that Cherubino has overheard all the advances he has made on Susanna.

Immediately, Figaro comes in accompanied with a chorus of peasants scattering flowers and singing in praise of the Count contributing to the purity and happiness of the upcoming marriage thanks to having abolished this previously-mentioned bullshit feudal right (Chorus: Giovani liete; “Happy young people”). The Count is not happy about this, but he buys himself some time by asking to delay the wedding, claiming to want to provide it a bunch of pomp and circumstance. Everyone cheers, and after the chorus leaves, Figaro notices that Cherubino looks unhappy. After he learns about his sacking, he and Susanna plead yet again on his behalf to the Count.

He eventually forgives him (verbally, at least), BUT also decides to dispatch him to a vacant post in his regiment, which he is to fill on this very day. Figaro and Susanna urge the Count to let him wait at least until the next day, but he is relentless. After the Count leaves, Figaro starts telling Cherubino in a somewhat exaggerated way all about the shitty-but-grand military life he is to expect from this day on (Aria: Non più andrai; “You shall no longer go”). Goodbye, young Cupid boy, and hello, manly soldier man! (A number of productions have Figaro essentially bully Cherubino during this number, but this is just Not Nice imo. Stop that.)

Act 2 opens on the Countess’ bedroom. The Countess (who happens to be a soprano, but one of a less light/more mature quality than Susanna) is sadly moping about the unhappy state of her love, quite obviously because her husband is constantly cheating on her (Cavatina: Porgi, amor; “Grant, love”). Susanna comes in, trying to dissuade the idea that the Count is trying to seduce her, saying that it’s actually money-based. Figaro comes in and explains all the Count’s plans concerning Susanna as well as his own side of the whole deal (the Marcellina thing).

Figaro has hatched a plan: he is arranging for the Count (a compulsively unfaithful but also compulsively jealous husband; 🎶 hypocrite 🎶) to intercept a note via Basilio, informing him of the Countess supposedly planning to meet a lover on this very evening, as a way to distract him from his own plans. He tells Susanna to arrange to meet the Count in the garden that evening, and to send a disguised Cherubino in her place, in which way he can be caught in the act by the Countess. Right before Figaro leaves to send Cherubino over, he does a little reprise of Se vuol ballare.

After a short while, Cherubino arrives (in some productions, dressed in military wear). He is still sad about leaving the castle, and especially the beautiful Countess. Susanna teases him, and urges him to sing them that little song that he wrote. She fetches a guitar and accompanies him as he singing something about asking the women advice on what love is (Canzone (“song”): Voi che sapete; “You who know”).

Afterwards, they start preparing the woman-costume bits for Cherubino, with Susanna locking the bedroom door to avoid anyone bursting in. The Countess sees Cherubino’s commission paper for the army, and notices that the Count forgot to seal it in his hurry, essentially making it unofficial. Susanna starts dressing Cherubino as a woman (yup, a woman dressed as a boy/man dressed as a woman... you’ll see a bit of those in comic operas) (Aria: Venite, inginocchiatevi; “Come, get on your knees”). She keeps teasing him throughout, but the Countess asks her more than once to stop fooling around.

When Susanna raises the sleeves on Cherubino’s dress, there is a ribbon tied around his arm; it’s that same one that he took from Susanna. Turns out he has been using it to bandage a bleeding cut on his arm. As Susanna goes to fetch something else to bandage the cut, the Countess and Cherubino are left alone and have an exchange that quite a few productions insist on using to make things weird between them. (I hate when this happens. Ma’am, that’s literally a newly-hormonal teenage boy!!!!!)

It’s all interrupted when the Count unexpectedly comes a-knockin’ on the door, VERY suspicious (he has received Figaro’s note, and he knows that the Countess usually never locks herself in her room). Cherubino shuts himself in a closet as the Countess lets the Count into the room. As he confronts her, a thud is heard from inside the closet; it’s Cherubino who fell over somehow. Of course, the Count becomes even more suspicious. The Countess claims it’s Susanna who is in there. As the Count urges Susanna to come out (Trio: Susanna, or via sortite; “Susanna, come out now”), Susanna happens to come in unnoticed, but when she realizes the situation, she hides away. There is a whole back-and-forth going on, between the Countess insisting that Susanna is in there trying her wedding gown, and the Count suspecting that his wife is hiding a lover in there.

As the Count leaves the room to get something to force the closet door open, taking the Countess with him and locking all doors in the process, Susanna comes out of her hiding spot. She beckons Cherubino to come out (Duettino: Aprite, presto, aprite; “Open, quick, open”), which he does (it’s not noted in the libretto, but usually he is seen wearing in his own clothes again). They get desperate as they realize all the doors are locked, but Cherubino gets the idea of jumping out of the window. Susanna begs him not to do it, as it is too high and he’ll probably kill himself, but Cherubino does it anyway... And makes it unharmed!!!!!! Susanna gleefully watches him run away at light speed, and quickly shuts herself in the closet.

At that moment come the Count and Countess, he with a bunch of tools to open the door. The Countess finally admits that she was hiding Cherubino in there, as they wanted to pull an innocent joke on him (the Count). Of course, the Count is very much set on killing him, despite the Countess’ desperation (Finale: Esci ormai; “Get out now”). The Countess, still insisting on her innocence, gives the Count the key to the closet as he draws his sword, ready to kill the page (that detail doesn’t appear in all productions, though). But when the door opens, out comes Susanna! When the ladies claim the whole thing, from the anonymous note to the page in the closet, as being a trick to test his jealousy, the Count begs his wife for forgiveness. After some roasting, the soft-hearted Countess accepts.

Figaro then comes in with news about the musicians for the wedding being here. The Count starts asking him very suspiciously about the anonymous note. Figaro, unaware of all the explanations that have occurred previously, confidently denies having anything to do with it. Of course, the Count doesn’t buy it. But everything is interrupted as Antonio, the castle gardener and a bass, comes in angrily. He claims to have seen a man jump out of the window and land in his garden, crushing his carnations in the process (in the libretto, he’s carrying a pot of them, but some productions omit that detail). Antonio has a reputation for being a drunk, so Figaro, Susanna and the Countess use that to try and cover themselves. Antonio strongly believes the culprit to be Cherubino, but Figaro (who witnessed the window jump) finally claims that he himself was the one who jumped out of the window, and also injured his foot as he landed.

Antonio gives Figaro a paper dropped by whoever jumped out of the window. Figaro, the Countess and Susanna manage to buy a little bit of time by asking Antonio to leave, which he does. As the Count pointedly questions him, Figaro understands that he’s into some deep shit, but Susanna and the Countess discreetly help save his ass, and he correctly identifies the paper as Cherubino’s military commission, which is lacking a seal.

Then come Marcellina, Bartolo and Basilio. Figaro, Susanna and the Countess despair, and the Count rejoices. We learn in better detail that Figaro had signed a contract that legally requires him to marry Marcellina in exchange for some loan money, and that she intends on having this contract be fulfilled. The curtain falls on this chaotic septet of contrasting emotions.

Act 3 is set in a hall in the Almaviva castle, prepared for the upcoming wedding. The Count is on his own, pondering the confusing craziness of the events of the previous act. The Countess and Susanna come in, unseen by him. The Countess encourages Susanna to get the Count to meet her in the garden later that evening, before leaving. Susanna and the Count remain alone onstage, and she ever-so-lovingly promises to meet him in the garden (Duet: Crudel! Perché finora farmi languir così?; “Cruel one! Why make me languish thus till now?”), and there’s quite a bit of back-and-forth going on.

As she leaves, Susanna meets Figaro and tells him that he has won his case (gaining the Count’s sympathy in terms of the whole Marcellina deal, I guess). However, the Count overhears this, and he gets really, REALLY pissed. He resolves to force Figaro to marry Marcellina, and rejoices in the prospect of revenge (Recitative and Aria: Hai già vinto la causa!... Vedrò, mentr'io sospiro; “You have already won the case!... Shall I see, while I sigh”).

Figaro, Marcellina and Bartolo come onstage, as well as Don Curzio, a tenor and a judge; this is Figaro’s hearing for the Marcellina case. Don Curzio leaves Figaro with the choice to either pay or marry Marcellina. The Count, Marcellina and Bartolo rejoice. Figaro claims that he cannot marry without his parents’ consent, and asks to be granted some more time to look for them, as he was stolen as a baby. When the spatula-shaped mark on his right arm gets brought up (summaries and translations usually refer to it as being a birthmark, but from reading the libretto, it seems more like it was artificially printed on), Marcellina immediately recognizes Figaro as a certain “Raffaello”. Bartolo explains that Marcellina is Figaro’s biological mother!!!!! How’s THAT for a twist??? And as if that wasn’t enough, Marcellina reveals that Bartolo is Figaro’s biological father!!!!!!!!!! Therefore, the marriage between Figaro and Marcellina cannot take place.

This very weirdly random reveal leads to an unironically heartwarming family reunion (Sextet: Riconosci in quest'amplesso; “Recognize in this embrace”). Don Curzio and the Count are absolutely dumbfounded. The Count in particular is fucking pissed. Susanna enters with money to help pay Figaro’s debts. When she sees Figaro embracing Marcellina, she becomes furious. She even slaps him at one point. But when the others explain the surprising family connection between Figaro and Marcellina (and Bartolo), she joins in the embrace. After the Count and Don Curzio leave, Bartolo and Marcellina agree to get married on this very evening (Figaro is their illegitimate child); a double wedding shall take place!

After they all leave, Cherubino briefly enters with Barbarina (a soprano with a voice so youthful that she’s pretty much the epitome of “girl soprano” in the opera circles), who plans to hide him from the Count by disguising him as a girl (he is supposed to be in Seville for his military service at this hour). They leave, and the Countess comes in alone, wondering about how the scheme is going, and then starts lamenting the loss of her happy days (Recitative and aria: E Susanna non vien!... Dove sono i bei momenti; “And Susanna does not come!... Where are the good times”. Man, she’s got a lot of sad music for a comic opera). After she leaves, Antonio and the Count briefly come in. Antonio tells the Count that Cherubino is not in Seville but at his house.

As they leave, Susanna and the Countess enter. Susanna has been briefing the Countess on everything that has been going on so far with the Count. The Countess tells her to write him a note to meet her at a precise location (Duettino: Sull’aria... Che soave zeffiretto; “On the breeze... What a sweet little zephyr wind”. This duet was featured in an iconic scene in the movie The Shawshank Redemption; the recording here features sopranos Gundula Janowitz and Edith Mathis. The sound is one half-step higher than it should be, though). As the Countess dictates, Susanna writes: “What a sweet little zephyr wind shall sigh under the pines of the grove”. That’s it, she doesn’t need to write more, the Count will understand everything. After folding the letter, the Countess gives Susanna a pin to seal it with, and tells her to add a note on the back of the letter, instructing the receiver to return the pin.

Barbarina comes in, accompanied by a chorus of peasant girls, with a yet-again-disguised Cherubino among them, bringing posies of flowers for the Countess (Chorus: Ricevete, o padroncina; “Receive, o mistress”). The Countess asks about one particularly modest-looking girl, who is none other than Cherubino (quite a few productions play up Cherubino’s nervousness in an endearingly hilarious way, for example by having him completely hide his face behind his flowers).

Barbarina claims that said girl is a cousin of hers, coming for the wedding. The Countess takes “her” flowers and kisses “her” on the forehead (though that’s not necessary), to which “she” blushes. The Countess remarks that “she” really reminds her of someone she knows. At which point Antonio and the Count come in. Antonio brutally reveals Cherubino. The Count is angry at Cherubino for not having left for Seville, but Barbarina (who is Antonio’s daughter, by the way, forgot to mention) saves his ass by reminding the Count that he often said he would give her anything she wants if she “loves” him (apparently the context is supposed to be... inappropriate), and she asks for Cherubino’s hand in marriage in exchange of her “loving him (the Count) like she loves her kitten”.

Figaro comes in and tries to have the wedding start, but the Count briefly confronts him with his lies. A wedding march starts playing (Finale: Ecco la marcia; “Here’s the march”), and everyone takes their places for the ceremony, despite the tension between the Count and Countess (who are supposed to preside over the wedding), and then Figaro and Susanna as well as Marcellina and Bartolo all finally get married. There’s a bit during which two female voices sing in praise of the Count having abolished that stupid feudal right (Amanti costanti; “Faithful lovers”). (Normally this bit it is given to two random chorus girls, but in the Met 2014 production, it is sung by Cherubino and Barbarina, which is quite a smart choice as it does fit the appropriate voice types.) Sometime in the midst of the procession, Susanna slips the letter to the Count.

As the dance party following the ceremony starts, the Count takes out the letter and pricks his finger on the pin. Figaro, unaware of the origins of this letter, discreetly laughs at this (in the libretto he is talking to Susanna (which I prefer), but quite a few productions have him deliver his line as an aside). After the Count promises grandiose festivities for this occasion, the chorus does a reprise of the Amanti costanti verses, and everyone dances the evening away as the curtain falls on the act.

The curtain opens on Act 4 in the castle garden at night. Barbarina is alone, completely desperate because she has lost something (what that something is is not yet elaborated on), and what will her cousin (Susanna) and the master (the Count) say??? (Cavatina: L’ho perduta; “I have lost it”. Strangely enough, this number is in a minor key, which is notable as being quite rare in Mozart’s works; I believe it’s the only number in this whole opera that’s in a minor key.)

Figaro and Marcellina come in, and after they inquire about her situation, Barbarina reveals that she has lost a pin that the Count gave to her to return to Susanna. Figaro figures out that the pin was the one sealing that letter that he saw the Count with during the wedding, and he becomes very jealous, but does not say anything until after Barbarina leaves. Marcellina advises him to keep it together, as the situation is not 100% clear as of yet, but he won’t listen.

After Figaro goes off “to avenge all husbands”, Marcellina is bent on warning her new daughter-in-law, whom she believes to be innocent, of Figaro’s intentions. She complains about how the males and females of literally every other species get along with each other while human men and women don’t (Aria: Il capro e la capretta; “The billy-goat and the she-goat”. It is almost always cut out, which. rude).

Barbarina enters carrying some fruits and cake, planning to meet Cherubino somewhere around this area. When she hears someone come in, she hides in a nearby pavilion. It’s Figaro, who has asked Bartolo and Basilio to help him in his plans. After he leaves, Bartolo and Basilio discuss the situation, and Basilio says that he himself knows better than to interfere with powerful people. He talks in a very metaphorical way about how he used to be a clueless shit back in the days, but then one day “Donna Flemma” (“Dame Phlegm” or something like that in Italian) came to him. (Aria: In quegli anni; “In those years”. Also almost always cut out. Quite rare for a tenor aria).

After they leave, Figaro re-enters, and in his desperate jealousy, he starts spewing a ton of shit about women (Recitative and aria: Tutto è disposto... Aprite un po’ quegl’occhi; “Everything is prepared... Open those eyes for a bit”).

Note: you find this aria ugh or even out of place? Your feelings are totally justified! In the original play, at this exact moment, Figaro actually has a long soliloquy that directly challenges the Count and his high status. This is the part that caused the most scandal back when the play came out, and when Mozart and da Ponte adapted it, they had to edit the whole thing out to get past the super-aristocratic Viennese censors.

He hides as the Countess and Susanna enter, accompanied by Marcellina, who has secretly warned them that Figaro is eavesdropping. Marcellina hides into the save pavilion that Barbarina hid in, and the Countess leaves the stage. Susanna remains alone, fully aware of Figaro hiding within hearing but pretending not to know that, and she teases him by loudly looking forward to the upcoming rendezvous with her “beloved” (who she does not mention by name, but whom Figaro would obviously assume to be the Count) (Recitative and aria: Giunse alfin il momento... Deh, vieni, non tardar; “The time has finally come... O, come, don’t delay”).

Note: so there are many ways one can analyze any aria, and this one is no different. I am particularly aware of two different ways to look at it: this video goes with the idea of Susanna is singing it as a way to punish Figaro for his jealousy, as the slow-paced music style is very different from the earlier, much more energetic Venite, inginocchiatevi, thus representing her dishonesty in that moment. Which is very logical. But also, back in June 2021, I was invited to attend a Zoom masterclass given by soprano Joyce el-Khoury, and she talked about how this aria is essentially Susanna singing all these loving things to Figaro without him knowing. And I’m quite willing to accept that because Figaro and Susanna as a couple are the most valid thing ever. I wouldn’t say I’m really leaning towards one or the other in particular, but just decided to mention these analyses because I find them interesting (and I agree with both).

ANYWAY, Susanna goes out of sight and Figaro becomes super-jealous, but he doesn’t have the time to act on any of that because then comes a cheerful Cherubino on his way to meet Barbarina. Then he sees the Countess, who is disguised as Susanna. Of course, mistaking her for Susanna, he comes up to her and starts teasing her (Finale: Pian pianin le andrò più presso; “Softly, softly I’ll get closer to her”). “Susanna" tries to get him to go away but he won’t budge. The Count comes in discreetly and sees this; he, Figaro, Susanna disguised as the Countess (all hidden) and the Countess herself get worried because Cherubino is unknowingly about tor ruin the whole thing. Eventually, Cherubino tries to kiss “Susanna" (actually the Countess), but the Count places himself between them. He swings a punch at Cherubino but strikes Figaro instead (he somehow decided to come out of hiding at that moment, and no one noticed because of the darkness).

Cherubino goes off to hide in that same pavilion where Barbarina and Marcellina are hidden, and Susanna and Figaro go back into hiding. The Count starts enthusiastically flirting with a very eager “Susanna" (with a hidden Figaro angrily snarking at the whole thing throughout), and gives her a ring. At one point, they decide to go into hiding among the trees, where “Susanna” (the Countess) hides away from the Count into another pavilion (or it can be anywhere else, really).

Then, Figaro sees the “Countess” and tries to warn her about their respective spouses’ adultery. But a few sentences into the conversation, he inwardly realizes that it’s actually Susanna disguised as the Countess. He immediately starts passionately flirting with “madama”. Susanna gets super pissed and starts beating the shit out of him (which he seems to enjoy). But then Figaro lovingly clarifies that he actually recognized her voice (it’s technically because she forgot to disguise her voice at one point, but it’s difficult to make this come across in terms of singing) (Pace, pace, mio dolce tesoro; “Peace, peace, my sweet treasure”). The two have a very sweet moment together, but the whole thing is short-lived as the Count comes back from among the trees, looking for “Susanna”.

It’s clear that the Count hasn’t uncovered the Countess’ disguise, so Figaro and the real Susanna, still disguised as the Countess, decide to play one last trick on him. They flirt together loudly enough for the Count to hear. As the Count closes in on them, the-Countess-but-actually-Susanna hides into the pavilion where Barbarina, Marcellina and Cherubino are already hidden.

The Count catches Figaro and calls for aid (Scena ultima (ultimate/final scene): Gente! gente! all’armi! all’armi!; “Gentlemen! gentlemen! to arms! to arms!”). In come Antonio, Bartolo, Basilio and Don Curzio (we do have to have the whole cast on stage for a final scene, huh!). The Count claims to have caught his servant betraying him with his wife, and he reaches into the pavilion where the-Countess-but-actually-Susanna is hidden, pulling out Cherubino, Barbarina, Marcellina and then the still-disguised Susanna one by one from the pavilion. Everyone begs the Count to forgive Figaro and the Countess, but he won’t hear any of it. Then, the Countess, having shed her “Susanna” disguise, comes out of hiding, to almost everyone’s surprise.

As the orchestra slows down significantly and plays an incredibly beautiful and lyrical tune, the humiliated Count finds himself having to beg the Countess for forgiveness in front of everyone (Contessa, perdono!; “Countess, forgive me!”). Given how much of an asshole he has been throughout the whole show, there is much debating as to whether he really means it. Given the absolute beauty of the music at this moment (check out a scene from Amadeus involving it), I should probably be inclined to believe that he does mean it, or at least that he genuinely thinks he means it.

The more docile Countess kindly accepts his apology (NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!), and everyone pretty much turns to the audience and joins in that same incredibly beautiful melody (Ah! Tutti contenti saremo così; “Ah! We shall all be happy thus”), with the four couples holding hands/cuddling and everyone being happy. Then, the music switches to a much livelier bop, very much similar to the overture, and all the characters conclude that only love can end this absolutely crazy day (Questo giorno di tormenti; “This day of torments”), and they call for the wedding celebrations to continue. The curtain falls, and we are meant to believe that everyone lives happily ever after.

The end! ❤❤❤ This has been an overly-detailed opera summary with unsolicited commentary, I hope you enjoyed ;)

- Raya / rayatii

(PS: fun fact, when the opera had its first revival in Vienna in 1789, Mozart wrote two new replacement arias for the soprano who sang Susanna: Un moto di gioia (“A surge of joy”) in the place of Venite, inginocchiatevi, and Al desio, di chi t’adora (“To the desire of the one who loves you”), both in the same keys as the respective arias that they’re each replacing. Both arias were famously performed by Cecilia Bartoli when she sang Susanna in the Met’s 1998 production of this opera.)

(PPS: anyone from the opera fandom side of AO3? Check out this really cute fanfic of Figaro and Susanna fluff set right after the the opera ends! I absolutely love it. It’s better than most of the other, very hmmmm pairings found under the Nozze category...)

(PPPS: sorry for this incredibly ENORMOUS post; have this much shorter summary of the opera by William Elliott, the same guy who illustrated that summary of Il trovatore that I showed y’all last time.)

(PPPPS: there’s this Spanish cartoon “La banda de Mozart” that features a specific piece of classical music by either Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin or Verdi for each episode, with an episode that features the overture of Le nozze, as well as a little bit of Non più andrai. In Spanish without subs, sorry.)

[cryptid-killjoy]

orleans-jester​:

Figaro would take it - with a lot of questioning about whether this means that they have a big nose. It might become a thing. Painting it rainbow because WILLEM THINKS I HAVE A BEAK. Teasing, it’s necessary. Willem was probably lucky that the inner comedian wasn’t going anywhere, even in times of distress. They spoke what came into their mind instead of just suppressing it down because it might sound weird. Or might be offensive. If you don’t want to be offended, don’t be so easy to offend, that was Figaro’s thought on the little snowflakes of the world.

“Yeah, I give kudos to dad on that - and a bit to you,” They said, giving him a little bow, complete with a flourish spin of the arm like they were a butler inviting in a special guest. “I’ll see if I can make it look like Sonic. There’s gotta be a way to color shit blue around here.”

As for Livvy, well, poor girl was stranded in New Zealand. Only she was the sole one, except for maybe her parents, who saw her as a poor girl. She wouldn’t go up to the ship itself but she waited near enough to it, sitting on a bench hoping to see Willem’s return, so they could talk. Or rather, so she could try to talk her way back into their relationship. Nadda. He was off having fun with Figaro, Scout and Go-Go. Three girls. She would have been livid (or Livv-ed) if she knew but she didn’t see them. She got money from her parents for a flight back - a VERY long flight while terrified of heights, and ended up back with them somewhere in the States, far from Louisiana where the death was, still mourning her daughter which some people didn’t think she had a right to do. Alas. Good riddence.

Livvy wasn’t gonna be crossing Figaro’s mind much at all. Didn’t feel sorry for her. Nah. She made her own bed, she could lie in it. The first time that they ever talked at school, Fig was wearing a full on David Bowie catsuit, and she thought that was someone that would just stop being friends with Willem because he got a girlfriend? Please. Catsuits mean loyal as hell in fashion language, which Figaro totally didn’t just make up.

If Willem ever did bring up feelings, Figaro might just say they were married already. They slept in the same bed without any awkwardness, at least on their part. If there was morning wood, they thought it was funny and threatened to call Mr Punch to come get his bat back, but maybe that wasn’t as funny to Will. They watched horror movies. Cooked together. Took care of the old man and the dolls, so they already had a family. Figaro also had no shame about farting in front of him so that was definitely some marriage shit right there. Just without the kissing and the smexytimes, which Will was more than free to do elsewhere.

They didn’t get that it wasn’t just companionship that Willem was after in his life. That was the height of what they wanted right there, what they’d ever want.

That tally chart was incoming, as long as Nutmeg was around. Watching Willem flounder was one of the enjoyments of life, especially since he usually seemed to be extremely charming. Could get any gal that he wanted. He was up against another spitfire. Things were going to get spicy.

–

Periwinkle. That was the color that Mads and Bas liked wasn’t it? It always had a funny name. “Perry…winkle…” Figaro said, like they just learned a new and interesting word. “Ever call her winky?” They snorted.

Mercury’s look was one that Figaro was very used to over the years. They didn’t like her any less for it. Actually, she was probably Figaro’s favorite so far. She wasn’t as cold as Nutmeg, so that was bonus points.

–

Yeah, the adrenaline wasn’t actually easy to get, or to get through to Pan. But they were thinking about it as a last resort though. After all, they did know a doctor. And a wannabe doctor. And hospitals were all empty right now and medications and tools were just … lying there for the taken. It was an idea that would be bouncing around their head. If Victor or Maddy didn’t go and pick up important things, they were just wasting away there. They’d look into it … eventually.

But unfortunately, that didn’t help with the Peter Pan situation. It was a human solution to a magical problem and even though sometimes that might work, it probably wouldn’t in this case. They weren’t giving up though. “Should have kidnapped Ells, she’d be able to burn all the snow away for a start.”

—

Figaro was prepared this time for Nutmeg’s arrival. They made a little tally chart on their phone’s notes. They hadn’t actually tried calling out or anything since it didn’t seem that important but they could still use apps that didn’t use the internet, that was cool. They didn’t try to hide it either.

But oh fuck. It was quickly forgotten.

Willem had an aunt that he didn’t know about, and no one thought to tell him about? Like that should have been one of the first things that he was told once he got here. Well good goddamn, not the most braincells in this place either.

And Willem caught on too. This wasn’t Figaro’s family, but it might as well have been. They volunteered of their own volition to come out here, no matter what the outcome was, and didn’t turn back once, even when the blizzard nearly froze their nose off. They were all in. And now they were pissed on Willem’s behalf. They had to plop themselves on the floor and literally sit on their hands to avoid going the route of violence. They thought about shaking Nutmeg like a dog shakes a chewtoy.

But that didn’t stop them from muttering commentary.

“Didn’t ask - didn’t ask? All those years of being alive, all of those ancestors, all of the time, and it trickles down to this. To you didn’t ask. That’s bull. There’s more fakery here than there is in all of the LA plastic surgeons office. These people need to be like zombies and go get a brain.”

And then up and away. They went willingly enough, even if they did have to clutch on a bit, hugging Will close to avoid feeling like they were going to be falling down into the ground. “Sick,” They said, tucking their head into his neck once things started to feel even colder than before. “I get to ride the dude missile.”

Hiking. Legs raised up to get through the snow. It had been a novelty at first, this real winter. But now, it was getting pretty old. Jack Frost - Winter of 83 - Dead Snow - The Shining - damn you snow. It felt evil.

And then they had some white haired guy coming up looking like he was George Clooney or Richard Gere or something. “Yeah, we got mouths Targaryen,” They backed up Will.

They followed, but hung back a couple of steps for the conversation. For new family. If Nutmeg tried to come through and interfere, they would plant themselves in the ground, arms spread out to try to prevent her from getting through. “I know you’re the guide and you think you can use your cute little nose and those glorious eyebrows that I’m jealous of to distract my boy in there, but they’re vibing, and I’m not letting your toxins in.”

But obviously they were all listening in. How could they not? This was better than a soap opera. This was better than HBO. This was honest to goodness family perhaps coming together and that was enough to make a cryptid weep, as long as things went well. It didn’t sound like it. Even if nobody was looking at them, they did throw a Judd-Nelson type fist in the air to agree - Hook was toys in the attic kinda crazy but that was his charm, so amen to that.

Body guarding. Nelly was there for the emotional support right now, flying and fluttering to keep Willem grounded, while Figaro pretended to be the Playboy Mansion Bouncer they always thought that they were on the inside and made sure no one came close to interrupt them. If there were any animals around, it might have been more intimidating. They were pretty good at charming them, explaining to them situations and how they can help - even animals like to feel useful. But for now it was just them and mean mugging.

It was insight more into Willem’s life. And Tink’s. They never questioned why a gone mother was so important, they got it in their own way. They had their different ways of clinging close to the one parent that they had, whether it was taking care of them whenever they weren’t at school, or trying to impress him and prove himself. Oh, poor Tink. Damn it Pan, was it so hard to give a kiss? A pucker up? If he woke up, no when he woke up, he was gonna be finding something heading right towards his kisser, that’s for sure.

They looked over their shoulder when Will started jumping up and down, as evidenced by the crush of the snow underneath his boots. A plan! A sparkle in the eye. They had a fucking plan. It’s about damn time they figured something out. And then Periwinkle almost ruined it. “Have you ever seen Law and Order SVU?” Figaro asked Periwinkle. “It’s never easy to just leave. Even I know that,” They scoffed.

Body guarding wasn’t fairy chasing though and even though they did make a couple of steps towards Periwinkle to try to nab those little feet, they weere too late. They were left alone again. “It’s not your fault that they’re chickens to the point where I feel like I’m getting salmonella,” They said, putting an arm around Willem so they could walk closer together for warmth. “You shook things up by showing up, Willem Da Brave. I’m like … B minus percent sure that she’ll be thinking about this and come around.”

Willem so agreed. Easily offended snowflakes could move over. But fuck no he’d never bring up feelings, at least not sober, or on purpose. Then again Willem is the one that says never say never and he’s been known to partake. But, really he’d honestly not see the point. What good would come of pointing out his own flaws? If them being different creates a wall of such difference that the claim is Figaro can’t understand the difference Willem is speaking of, why would he torture himself with that? Acceptance is the only peace. Pointing out his feelings, to him, only shows the flaw in him, that he’s not completely accepted a part of them, and he refuses to ever say that. Just refuses. He loves them too much. Plus, he’d never want it twisted into something worse like Figaro believing he thought there was something deficient in her because that just was so not so. The weakness was his own. 

Plus, he had this theory it’d go away if he found “the true” person he’s suppose to be with that checked all the boxes. He wasn’t completely sure about that. He still held the other theory that he might be completely happy with Figaro’s companionship and fucking synthetics like Parrish did or whoever else on the side. He wasn’t sure. He was young. He was still figuring out his life. He’d work it out. 

It’d be nice to get close to someone, even friend wise to talk about these things though, but everyone was so surface. Iain was never going to be that guy even before. He dated his ex for one, but even still, Willem seemed to be having the Valerie problem in general in this town. It was like most people he met had a certain degree of what Valerie calls millennial distancing. This whole the “I’m sorry you’re going through that” group that basically says nothing else as the stock bullshit answer for the lack of communication era.  They call it listening but it’s disconnected. Valerie could call out the difference because she was older and knew how it used to be. Willem was younger and just had no clue why he couldn’t connect to people. 

He thought it was him. He just needed a talk from Valerie telling him they were literally teaching people how to not have human connection anymore and calling it listening. It was a sad as fuck loss for humans having mutual exchange. He wanted real conversation that went both ways. He was having trouble meeting people that could actually communicate real exchanges of any depth. The saddest part was he learned to do it back because others would shy away if he spoke of anything real as if it’s invasive. Eww scary personal talk. Anything but that. Wouldn’t want to get to know people or anything. Willem was tired of surface people so why not stay in the walls? He didn’t feel like he could get any girls he wanted. He felt like he could get any “stupid girl” like in one of Pink’s songs. Stupid girls. He could get all of those but those weren’t the ones he wanted. 

Willem did like talking to Maddy now though. That had grown. She talked to him the deepest without making fun of him. He sort of needed a friend like that in his life. Talking about Figaro was probably the one line cross he wouldn’t go to though. It was probably because they really were like partners. You just don’t go talking behind your partner’s back. It’s not what you do. So maybe it was like they were married already? Go figure. 

As for Livvy, Willem thought about her still, off and on. He couldn’t help it. It was still semi-fresh. It wasn’t just that. It was the shelves. When they came back to Feral he found her house and finished the promise. He couldn’t know those dolls were boxed up in that closet no matter how the buildings changed on the outside. The fact they still stood at all, and many old buildings did not, but these did, made sure he couldn’t resist. He build shelves for all her dolls and set them up neatly so they wouldn’t be lonely. He even took a couple pics. 

A small part of him wanted to send them to her, but he knew that had the potential to start something he didn’t have the ability to finish if she didn’t have him blocked. He thought she might. He got pretty mean at the end. His nice side felt guilty about it. He firmly believed if he didn’t try to be super mean he didn’t have a chance at her leaving him alone and he finally got fed up. He learned a lot about his own limits. He saw they weren’t a good match, but he still firmly believes she’s so much more than everyone gives her credit for and she’s not at all what she tells herself she is. She just wasn’t meant for him, that’s all.

 As hurt and angry as he was, and as much as he gives those smiles when people give the crazy jokes, he’s still the guy inside hoping she’ll find someone to see her for all she’s worth. He’ll say he survived the man-eater because he loves a good story and he’ll smile on it fondly. Willem’s always going to hold a little spot in his heart for that fish tale. If he had to pick who survived, it’d be Livvy every time. He likes knowing she’s out there. Somewhere. Hell, even not knowing if she did helps the mystery of the story. The siren of the seas could pop up anywhere and getcha! If he ever learns of her demise he would take his hat off to her and bow his head. He’d give that Tizzy a 21 cannon salute god damn it. Fuck yeah he would. 

“No.” No was the answer Figaro got about calling Periwinkle Winky, but Willem hardly believed that. 

“Lost op.” 

Perwinkle had even SV-whated Figaro. She must not have been a fan. 

But, by the time the whole scene went down and he was left standing there with no guides, no fairy from either side of the hollow, he just looked defeated. Like really? 

Willem DaBrave. 

He still had Figaro. They hadn’t left. Nelly flitted up. She hadn’t left. 

“Thanks Smalls. I mean, otherwise we came a long way for nothing.” 

Then he cocked his head. “Well, not for nothing. It was still an adventure. A wacked up adventure, but an adventure.” 

Willem did love going on his journeys wherever the wind may blow. Come what may. 

Nelly said, “You did find out you had family.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

He started to trek back and on the way back he said, “I still feel like the answer is all sort of right there somehow, right in front of our faces. Healing powers. Tink bonds. Pan. Special unorthodox magic. Hook and Pan. I don’t know. Maybe I’m still missing something.” 

There was not much to do but sleep on it while he had no guides willing to speak to him at the moment. He thought about seeking advice from the queen but fuck that. He felt like she’d just say trust the process. 

He’d end up calling Maddy, but she must have been busy with the kid, or dogs, or Bastien because it went to voicemail. So, he would find out the phones did actually work all tiny. What he wouldn’t know was his voice wouldn’t sound like a chipmunk on the other end of the line. While he was small like that he’d sound like a bell. All she’d hear was little tinkling sounds on the other end. He had no idea that while he’d been converted down to that size he’d also been speaking fairy language and the mortals couldn’t hear him. This wouldn’t be the same for Figaro or Nelly because they weren’t fairies. If Figaro tried it she might really sound like chipmunk. Nelly was a doll and would only sound as such too. Willem however had enough fae in him to get the full effect of the enchantment. 

So, he’d call back a little a later and whenever she did answer he’d hear her talking and saying hello but she’d not hear anything but tinkle bells. Eventually Willem would hang up thinking they had a bad connection in Pixie Hollow since she didn’t seem to be able to hear him. He’d text her “Call you another time. We’re safe.” But that’s it. He just really wanted a friendly ear, like a real person who understood girls. She was his go-to, but it wasn’t going to work out this time. Maddy had met Livvy and knew the Iain situation. He couldn’t text this whole thing. He just couldn’t. There was no digital conversation that was going to make someone understand. He needed his drama tone thank you very much. There was no amount of caps or upside smiley faces that were going send the right distress call out for this. He just wanted to fucking talk. 

Family. Family. Hook and Pan. Periwinkle. Smalls. Nelly. 

Wait. 

He stood at the edge of the glass coffin in the cold thinking when it hit him he didn’t know if Hook knew anything about Periwinkle or if he withheld this from him. Would it make a difference? 

Hmmm. 

His thoughts kept going round in circles and unsure if it was leading anywhere. He was tiny. He couldn’t hike his boot up on the ledge of the coffin like he’d done when he first got there. He started to look around and take in the view all over again from a pixie’s angle. 

Pan. Tink. Him. He’s the Tink. There’s the Pan. Nutmeg’s words were echoing again about Winky not caring about him, Pan, Hook. Hook. Hook was missing from this picture. Was he the pirate or the Tink? What if Pan needed both? Could he really be both parts? Willem didn’t think so. 

Oh Lawdy. 

“Oh thimbleshanks and acorn hats. Smalls. I think I might be in a Mando episode.” 

Okay so maybe he’d also been listening to the nature fae slang a little much already. 

“Why do I feel like this is about to be like when Grogu had to pick between being a Jedi and being with Mando?” 

He took a deep breath. 

“I think the Nevers might need my dad.”

Nelly flew up with a questionable look and a dagger at arms.  “You can’t fight the great war between Hook and Pan as a pirate if you’re the Tink.” 

“I know Nelly. I know. If we can’t get Periwinkle to play, someone’s going to have to do it.” 

Nelly dropped her jaw. That means going against Hook. 

“I think the Horned King’s war might just have screwed up the great war that never ends and keeps the Nevers alive.” 

[leporellian]

🔥 Rigoletto (the opera or the character, you choose)

ok a bunch at random concerning both

- pleaseeee i want ONE production that seems aware that rigoletto has a disability... like can we have One. you'd think this would be a fairly obvious thing for directors to comprehend but I Guess Not!

- related to the above but man i wish people could realize that rigoletto is both a) a deeply flawed character and b) a sad sympathetic character that the audience comes to root for at the same time. him being so flawed is what makes him INTERESTING. also like... sorry but the way directors handle the character in general really shows they don't understand basic concepts like. internalized ableism. or that disabled people do in fact experience ableism in the first place. or that- get this one- disabled people can have Complex Feelings regarding the people around them

- tldr for the above rigoletto's character makes no sense TO YOU. i get it though.

- productions that cast the duke of mantua as a Modern Figure (ie donald trump) think they're very clever. they are not. the genius of opera is its universality so by making one character stand for Definitively One Person makes the message in fact limited plus the whole -point- with the duke is that he's not really One Guy but a symptom of society's faults at large so being like 'ohhh it's That Guy in particular' actively takes away part of the impact. this is true of other productions of other operas also.

- related to the above, but can we talk about how opera companies use the metoo movement as an advertising buzzword for operas like rigoletto/don giovanni/marriage of figaro/etc... like. chiefs... don't

- 'rigoletto encourages the duke' no he makes jokes in poor taste that the duke takes too seriously. not saying that's morally ok either but Get Your Facts Straight

- gilda is 14-16 years old can people stop being weird about her. please. all i ask. i want opera fans to understand the principle 'maybe if a character is canonically A Child! don't be Weird about them!' but as long as we have people doing weird shit about cherubino when canonically they're 13 i guess we're never getting there

- the way only I notice the rigoletto sparafucile parallel is why we live in a society

- sparafucile and maddalena are one of the actually healthy sibling pairs in opera. they're willing to listen to what the other has to say (although they squabble over it quite a bit), they both seem to have equal say in where their Assassin Business goes, and they're able to compromise within like 5 minutes (even if the compromise is by all accounts Literally The Worst Way To Solve The Situation). also they're twins and sparafucile is clearly the younger of the 2. if anyone says otherwise theyre WRONG

- i'm the only one in the maddalena sparafucile fanclub this is so sad

- and finally WHEN are we getting the sparafucile-maddalena animated sitcom they're so fucking funny please network execs if you're reading this. i tried to write a 'pilot script' for this idea but i gave up bc it was cringe and i wouldn't have anything to do with it </3

anyway i'm still insane abt this opera clearly. i've just been in Rake's Progress Purgatory With A Side Of Don G. so you haven't heard me talk abt it much

[niceology]

Niceology Lesson 48

Giving someone a piece of gum is nice. You have a pack of gum and you’re at school or work or wherever really, and someone’s like “Hey man, can I get a piece of gum?” and then you give them a piece. Small gesture, but it’s a nice thing to do. I love gum. I chew it a lot. I’m a regular old Violet.. Bore.. eh guard?? Probably something like “Beauxregard” or Beauragaard” or something.

By the way, who really cares about chewing gum? I mean, why was it so bad for Violet to chew gum? Augusts had extreme gluttony, eating everything in sight and fucking up Willy Wonka’s river. Although, Wonka did lead the children into a beautiful, perfect-looking place and told them that they could eat anything they wanted. Why did he expect them to somehow know not to drink from the huge chocolate river? Then he freaks out! “Why are you drinking from the river?!? I only told you that you could everything in this room!!” If it was that important to not partake in something specific, you’d think he would have mentioned it, like God did with Adam and Eve.

Willy Wonka is not God, but it still seems like a very obvious thing for him to forget.

But even in a narrative sense, it’s weird. It’s meant for kids and it has kids in the movies, and it’s supposed to teach them a lesson about bad behavior. Augustus is a glutton. Veruca is a spoiled brat. Violet.. chews.. gum. Who cares?? Obviously not me. Chew gum! And give pieces of gum to your peers!

One more thing about Willy Wonka: in that one scene, Willy plays a little tune on a tiny instrument to open a door. And then Mike Teavee’s mom smugly says, “Rachmaninoff,” even though the music is from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro. Which, you know, minor point, but that’s not an obscure piece of music by any means, it’s one of Mozart’s most recognizable melodies. You’d think someone would’ve noticed the error. But I like the idea that they knew it was wrong and just wanted her character to be a smug asshole who pretends to be smart.

[adridoesstuff]

Mozart's costume design in MOR: an analysis

As I said in my Salieri analysis: a good costume design should give us a clear look into a character just by looking at them and without knowing the backstory. Also, for specification: I'm basing my analysis off of the 2011 recording, since I find that this is the moment in the show's history, when the costumes were the most lush.

The first time we see Mozart, he is in Salzburg. He is rather well off and in the service of the Archbishop. He dresses in red, which is a color associated at the beginning with the Salzburg court, but he has black beaded appliqués trimming his coat, witch both give us a sense that he is well off enough to afford something like this and the appliqués also connect him to Nannerl, who has similar ones on her bodice.

Next time we see him, he is on the road in Mannheim. Since he is travelling, he wears a plainer jacket with a gray cheetah print. The gray jacket, combined with his black vest and pants especially stand out in the Inn/Le Trublion scene, where everyone else is dressed more colorfully, clearly showing that he doesn't fit in.

He wears the same jacket in Tatoue Moi, when he is in Paris, where once again, he doesn't fit in with the crowd. The crowd in dressed in duller colors than the people in Mannheim, but he still stands out. The cheetah print comes into reason once you get into the lyrics of Tatoue Moi: the song is essentially (at least from my pont of view) about Mozart's desperation to get by, willing to even prostitute himself to earn some money and the cheetah print is a lot of times associated with promiscuity.

After his mother dies, he gets to an all time low and barely scarpers to get back to Mannheim. Once he gets there, he is dressed in the plainest coat he wears in the show, which he probably bought cheap after his mother's death. It is plain red velvet with black buttons and even though it isn't a traditional "mourning jacket", the message of the mourning gets through: Mozart dressed so far in only extravagant clothing, be it detail or print wise, so the plain jacket does feel like him mourning and also conveys the message that he is as broke as can be.

After intermission, he enters in one of the most famous coats from the show, the pink snowflake coat. He is back in Salzburg and had to work 3 years for the Archbishiop and he has had enough. He has picked himself up and travelled to Vienna, where unlike in Mannheim or Paris, he at first fits in. The Viennese wear the most colorful costumes out of all the three cities Mozart visited. Mozart, after an entire act of not fitting into the crowd (be it Mannheim, the court of Princess d'Orange or Paris), he finally finds a place, where he seemingly belongs.

The next outfit we see Mozart in is the black rehearsal coat, which he ends up wearing for most of Act 2. Mozart tries to be a seriously-taken composer and so, he tones his clothes down a notch. This is also the coat he wears during his first meeting with Salieri. I've already talked about how Salieri later mirrors this outfit with the L'assasymphonie coat.

During the wedding, he swaps the black for a white coat with some white on white embroidery. I at first didn't notice that embroidery, since it's so subtle. But it can be interpreted as Mozart trying look more serious and grown up at first glance, but he is still as flamboyant in his clothing choices as in Act 1. He's just trying to be lowkey about it.

During the rehearsal of Marriage of Figaro, Mozart wears a coat made out of a red/silver sequined fabric. He is dressed to impress, since the Emperor is attending the rehearsal. This is his most flamboyant coat in the entire show and he ends up rewearing it for the curtain call.

At the end of the show, when Mozart is dying, he doesn't wear the coat, giving us a full view of that amazing poofy white shirt. While we're at it, let's discuss the coat symbolism. A coat can be seen as a sort of armor: it protects the wearer. The first time Mozart takes a coat off is in Le Trublion. He is down to fight the guys in Mannheim for disrespecting him and he takes the cost off to be on the same level with them. The 2nd time we see a coatless Mozart is in Je dors sur des roses. He is utterly heartbroken and he throws the coat (the symbolic armor) away as a way to let his despair flow freely and to get over the past. The discarding of this "armor" also lets us peek at who Mozart truly is inside. The extravagant, revolutionary libertine that Mozart presents himself as is only a part of him that he chooses to show the outer world. But inside, he is broken, desperate and full of passionate feelings. It is exactly in Je dors sur des roses and Act 2's finale when we see the most vulnerable of Mozart.

[queerchoicesblog]

The Understudy

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in Vienna, one of the iconic capitals of opera at the time of Mozart. An emerging singer gets the chance to be an understudy in the latest Mozart’s discussed opera Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), that  premiered at the Burgtheater in Vienna on 1 May 1786, w and play the pants role of the page Cherubino. Preparing for the role doesn’t quite go as planned… .

I took the liberty to add a few Italian words every now and there so here are all the useful translations that might come in handy as you read: cara (dear, female adjective), una meraviglia (a true wonder).

Tagging: @scottishqueer​

Previous wlw miniseries: Ancient Greece, Italian Renaissence, Belle Epoque Paris, Sixties.

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

____________________________

"So...will you do it?" The voice is calm just like the honeyed smile on her lips, but the look in the primadonna's eyes is unmistakable: the great Adriana Ferrarese can't wait to see me out of the door. She's a seasoned professional, she knows how to conceal her displease but I'm not dumb: a jewelled hand rested over Da Ponte's tight and eyes following every single move I make, every single breath I take, she's clearly conveying that my presence is no longer welcome here. It never was, I think: it surely wasn't her idea to invite me here today! Has she tried to dissuade the Maestro from summoning me, I wonder? I'm surprised she failed: you know what they say, feminine wiles can work miracles on men, make them change their minds like a vain girl changes clothes yet...here I am. And she's fuming underneath her well practiced poise. Poor Ferrarese, my blonde curls, my youth must be a threat to her especially in front of him. Ah, I knew that the rumours were true: she's the Italian operatic librettist's mistress! Cunning little devil...of course she gets all the best roles now. Before everyone else.

I join her game and pretend not to notice the subliminal messages she keeps throwing me. I fan myself nonchalantly, pondering the offer I've just received. I am a bit confused: I really don't know what to think of it or how to take it. "Let me get this straight, Maestro" I say, ignoring her and addressing Da Ponte. "You beg me to come here with great haste and ask me to be a last minute understudy for a...page role?" I may not be as famous as his mistress but it's an insult! True, my career hasn't reached its peak yet but I'm not the new girl desperate to get a role: I have adoring admirers throwing flowers and screaming my name whenever I walk into the stage after the grand finale. Who does he think he's talking to? He must understand my disappointment because he's quick to reassure me. "Miss Constanze, Cherubino is not a simple page" he smiles apologetically. "The whole opera revolves around the world of counts and servants, you know Herr Mozart is an innovator, an unconventional spirit...if I remember correctly, you have already worked with him" "Correct" I concede. I'm curious to see where this is going, how he will convince me to accept this. "Well, this new opera has already been a success and trust me: the people of Vienna won't tire of it anytime soon! And the role we kindly asked you to be an understudy for is the most loved by our audience, I assure you. Ask around if you don't believe me: those who attended the opera are head over heels for the Count's page, they recall his scenes, sing his arias underneath their breath...the audience is crazy for him! That's why we couldn't ask just anyone to replace the original singer, but only a refined, talented woman like you, Miss Konstanze" There's a note of pride in his voice. I must give him, it's not surprising that there servant or unconventional roles in Mozart's operas - in The Abduction from the Seraglio I played one of the harem girls - but by the brief description he gave me of the plot I cannot bring myself to understand how the audience can fall in love with a page who doesn't even have an aria for the whole third act and is constantly sidelined. It doesn't make sense: it's a recipe for oblivion to my ears. But he's right: the Wedding is the talk of the town so I should probably say yes anyway, even if no, I don't enjoy the idea of being sidelined. I mean, we all want to glow on stage and bask in the light and audience's adoration. We want their applauses meant for us alone, ringing in our ears when the curtains raise for one last blessed time, we want flowers thrown at us, we want glory. And I am not sure this Cherubino will be my ally on that front if there are two major romances in the main plot already. And even if the audience showed a liking for the page, well I must remember I am not the first singer so my performance will not avoid comparisons. The Maestro speaks again, derailing my line of thoughts. "You see, dear Miss Constanze, Cherubino is not a main character yet he is essential to the plot: without him the whole story wouldn't make sense! One could say that he bears the comedic side of the opera over his young shoulders and even if he doesn't get as many arias as other characters, oh, his are as sweet as cherries, una meraviglia! No wonder the audience loves him...and the restricted number of arias to study might help you prepare properly within such a short notice if you kindly offer your help-" "I would have prepared properly even if I had the double amount of arias within such a short notice, caro Maestro" I interrupt him, just in case he forgot who he is talking to, again. He bows his head, dramatically placing a hand on his heart in display of apology. "But of course, your outstanding professionalism is not questioned here, Miss. To prove it, let me tell you that Herr Mozart was particularly happy when I suggested your name for poor Dorotea's understudy". His mistress' smile is now so tight I have to summon every ounce of professionalism to refrain myself from bursting into a loud insolent laughter. "That's incredibly kind of you, Maestro: I really don't know how to thank you" I purr instead, unable to resist: how could I miss a chance to tease - and piss off! - the primadonna? La Ferrarese throws me a side look I will never forget: I wonder if she has a dagger hidden underneath her skirt and will chase me in the streets in the heat of jealousy when I turn my back at her. Sounds like a scene out of one of those Italian operas, I consider, amused. Do Italians do that offstage too? She only has to dare though: I am younger than her and I have claws too. "Say yes then, Miss" he proposes, radiant. "If you ask me, Herr Mozart thinks you are the best choice and the perfect Cherubino. Say yes, cara Constanze". His face is an expectant plea and I have a feeling that if his mistress wasn't here, he would be begging me on his knees to accept this role. Honestly, I don't know what to make of Herr Mozart's comment about me being just "perfect" to pass for a boy...am I not feminine enough for him in my skirts, tight corset and jewellery a wealthy admirer keeps giving? Whatever. That man is a genius maybe but he's certainly a weirdo. But I think I should accept: it's not the most flattering offer but no one reached the top without taking an understudy role at least once. And so here I am, a week later, in the room of one of Da Ponte's personal friends and composer to help me prepare for the new performance. I don't have much time, not even a month, but his flattery won me. I can do this. I must admit that I'm secretly happy to know that Herr Mozart won't direct the new revivals: he's a brilliant composer and musician but I still remember his wandering hands. I don't think any woman who worked with him - or simply has been around him for more than a bunch of minutes, I wager - got away without a pinch or a breast squeeze. I fail to understand why so many girls fall madly in love with him or at least confess they can't resist his charm. Even his wife still giggle like a child and melt in front of his "Wolfie", despite his endless and well known - and rather squalid, if you ask me - affairs! I mean, not that this Melchiorri is any different: by the so very discreet looks he keeps throwing at my décolleté or by the way his hands linger a bit too much on my hips when he insists to fix my posture, I bet he wouldn't mind me as his mistress. Another lecherous wop, excellent. I've been around so many by now that I know them by heart: honeyed words, usually blabs a lot in a dreamy voice of how they miss Venice or whatever dear hometown they come from and how much you remind them of this or that flower or woman of their childhood. Too many compliments, strong accent hoping you would fall for their exoticism, fine clothing. Just like Mr. Melchiorri. He's from Milan and is a close friend of Salieri. Sometimes I cannot help but wonder if we let too many Italians here in Vienna: sadly, so far they rule the world of the opera and our Emperor is head over heels for them. Ah, better not tell the Empress> she might throw ond hell of a jealousy tantrum! Melchiorri is very gallant, almost regal even if he loses his composure when he speaks of music. He often asks to excuse his passionate temperament with an apologetic smile but I can't shake my mind that this is just a subtle hint to another passionate temperament he would die to show me if the lingering stares he gives me, mesmerised, as I bite the Italian delights he has ready for me - "delivered directly for you, mia cara, from Italy" - every time I visit him for our private sessions are any indication. They're chestnut chocolate truffles with a pinch of brandy, I wager, covered in withe chocolate with a ruby cherry on top. They're called "capezzoli di Venere", that is nipples of Venus, he revealed one day, a mischievous smile on his face: he was probably hoping to shock me or see me blush profusely. Instead, I barked out a laughter and took a generous bite. I regretted it when he bit his lip clearly refraining himself for making another move. But at least he's a good teacher, I make progresses fast. I've been around too many Melchiorris and Herr Mozarts to be bothered. I mean, obviously I'm bothered that most men thinks we opera singers are just harlots in fancier dresses when we broke our backs studying languages, music and singing hard since a very early age. We didn't sacrifice the best years of our lives only to be mistaken for mannequins with a melodious voice when we sing the arias they wrote. But that's what it is and I must focus now. And it's so difficult at times with men like these. Just like when one day the door of his studio slams open out of the blue while I'm rehearsing an aria and a little boy of three, four years maybe runs inside laughing. He's visibly proud of evading whoever was asked to look after him. True to his "passionate temperament", Melchiorri is suddenly furious. He barely looks at the child and shouts out the name of the unfortunate servant before profusely apologise to me. A terrified young maid comes running and soon chaos takes hold of the room: Melchiorri alternates between tight apologetic smiles in my direction and not so gallant curses he thinks I do not understand to the the poor maid who chases the cheeky little boy with great effort but little success. I must admit it's rather amusing even if I'm wasting my time. Suddenly I have an idea. When finally the maestro shuts up to catch breath, I sing an impromptu elaborate thrill at full voice. The little boy freezes and turns towards in awe while the maid wraps her arms around him: caught! Melchiorri needs a moment to process what happened while the girl flashes me a quick, grateful smile. "There, emergency solved" I announce, beaming. "Can we proceed now, Maestro?"

[sincerelyrachelr]

Get to Know Me Tag

Thank you for tagging me @writerjuliannaf

MUSIC

Favorite genre(s)?

Movie soundtracks, classical, acoustic/folk, hymns, some 60s.

Favorite song(s)?

For the Beauty of the Earth, Photograph and A Little More by Cody Fry, South by Sleeping at Last, Look At the World by John Rutter, the Overture to the Sound of Music, Winter from the Four Seasons by Vivaldi, anything by Chopin, currently Ballade No. 1.

Most listened song recently?

'Non So Piu' from the Marriage of Figaro, sung by Cecilia Bartoli - but that's for studying! Other than that, Sunflower by Glen Cambell.

Song currently stuck in your head?

Handel's Water Music, Suite No. 2 in D Major, II. Alla Hornpipe. Because I'm currently listening to it and studying it.

5 favorite lyrics?

"Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee; Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness I am with Thee." Harriet Beecher Stowe - Still, Still With Thee

"If I could see through anger, would I discover people that are broken, or hurting? Oh, I think that that would change my whole view, and probably change yours too." Cody Fry - A Little More

"Some truths, over time, can learn to play nice Some truths are sharper than knives Some truths we only see in the corners of our eyes Some truths we wish we could hide Some truths can save us, some take our lives Some truths are fire and some truths are ice." Sleeping At Last - South

"Think of the spring, Think of the warmth of summer Bringing the harvest before the winters cold Everything grows, everything has a season Til' it is gathered to the Father's fold" John Rutter - Look at the World

"If i had my way time would just stand still wait for me until I find some magic film to take a photograph and live inside" Cody Fry - Photograph

Pick!

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume (quiet) I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with music playing

BOOKS

Favorite book series?

'Hands of Time' by Ashley Nikole.

Comfort book(s)?

'The Princess Bride' by William Goldman and anything by James Herriot. 'The Little Women Letters' by Gabrielle Donnelly is one that is highly underrated and I want someone to discuss it with!

Favorite book(s)?

'The Pilgrim's Progress', 'Little Women', 'The Princess Bride', 'The Little Women Letters' by Gabrielle Donnelly.

Perfect book(s) to read on a rainy day?

'The Enchanted April' by Elizabeth von Arnim seems like a good choice, especially for a rainy April day. Or, 'To Live & To Breathe' by Katelyn Buxton.

Favorite character(s)?

Ellie Daniels & Tom Holt from the 'Hands of Time' series, Jo March, Marmee, Professor Bhaer, Westley, Fezzik, Buttercup, James Herriot, Christian, Christiana and Mercy.

5 favorite quotes from your favorite books?

“History is alive. Who are those of the future to say the past is silent? Let history speak for itself, and may those who have ears, listen. For many hear, but few listen. Even fewer still are those who understand.” Ashley Nikole - Present History

“I am your Prince and you will marry me," Humperdinck said. Buttercup whispered, "I am your servant and I refuse." "I am you Prince and you cannot refuse." "I am your loyal servant and I just did." "Refusal means death." "Kill me then.” William Goldman - The Princess Bride

^ There are so many good ones, but this one highlights Buttercup's actually having a backbone. ^

"A man there was, though some did count him mad, the more he cast away the more he had." - John Bunyan - Pilgrim's Progress

"the wilderness of books, in which she could wander, where she liked, made the library a region of bliss to her.” Louisa May Alcott - Little Women

“I think most places can be interesting to live in if you find a way to make them so.” Gabrielle Donnelly - The Little Women Letters

Pick!

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

Favorite tv/movie genre(s)?

Historical Drama, Drama, and also offbeat clean comedies.

Comfort movie(s)?

'Cold Comfort Farm' 1995, 'The Princess Bride', 'Harvey' 1950, 'The Grand Seduction'.

Movie you watch every year?

'The Princess Bride'

Favorite movie?

'Little Women' 1995, 'The Sound of Music', 'The Princess Bride', 'Amazing Grace' 2006,

Favorite tv show(s)?

'All Creatures Great & Small' 1978-, 'Get Smart' 1965-

Comfort tv show?

Definitely 'All Creatures Great & Small'.

Most rewatched tv show?

Probably 'Little House on the Prairie.'

5 Favorite tv/movie characters?

Jo March, Caroline Ingalls, Helen Herriot, Westley, and then I'm going offbeat to say Siegfried from Get Smart - because he makes me laugh. There are so many more!

Pick!

tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online.

I tag: @lettersfromavonlea @lauricia and anyone else who wants to join in on the fun

[hovercraft79]

Lovesong

Chapters: 2

Word Count: 5,401

Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)

Rating: M

Warnings: general family discord, adult situations

Summary: Even as Hecate and Ada continue to settle in to their relationship, trouble is brewing.  As the Witchtathlon meet grows nearer, tensions are running high. Ada and Agatha clash over almost everything while Geraldine Gullet feeds the flames.  

Notes: This is part 1 of the fic that covers the Week 8 prompt ‘magical battle couple.’

Two weeks of a workshop took a toll on writing time, so this one had to be split into two chapters. The conclusion will be up as soon as it’s finished.

The title of this week’s fic was inspired by the song of the same name by The Cure. I think both Ada and Hecate would agree that ‘you make me feel like I am home again’ sums them up perfectly.

I’d like to thank my very confused math teacher friend for her explanation of exponential vs linear magnitude. You know, for the proper dosing of a potion to enlarge a newt.  

As ever, I’m thankful Sparky is still hanging in there and editing for me. She was so thrilled to learn this was part one of two.

“Steady pace, Miss Spellbody, you don’t win marks with sloppy stirring.” Hecate nodded approvingly as the girl slowed her speed. Soon the spoon slipped through the potion like a dolphin through the sea. “Very well done.”

Hecate tried to keep the feeling tamped down, to keep her expectations low, but when she looked at her team, she couldn’t help the glimmer of optimism that blossomed in her chest. They had a chance, a real chance, to win the potions competition at the Witchtathlon.

“The three primary ingredients of an enlarging potion are? In descending order of potency?”

“Chokeberry, cattrap, and waterlily pad,” the girls chorused.

“And if you lack sufficient waterlily pad?”

“You can use one and one half the amount of waterlily root,” chirped Penny Pestle. “But you must slice it instead of shave it.”

Hecate beamed. “Exactly. Ma-ry Wool-ens… please tell me the proper color of the completed potion?”

Grinning, she didn’t hesitate to answer. “The potion should be the same shade of yellow as the wings of the male brimstone butterfly.”

Nodding, Hecate turned to the last girl on her team, Winifred Whitegrass. “All right, shall we see how it works?” She watched carefully as Winnie ladled up a phial of potion. “What’s the proper dosage?”

“One drop for each magnitude of size you wish to increase,” Winnie answered as she carefully collected a fire-bellied newt they’d taken to calling Figaro. She placed Figaro on the worktable and measured him. “Three inches long. Eight drops should give us a newt that’s twenty-four inches long.” She filled a dropper and held it over the newt, freezing when Hecate placed a hand over hers.

“While a twenty-four-inch newt would be most impressive – and certainly appropriate for the actual contest – perhaps a three-drop dose would be more practical.” She looked pointedly at the size of the terrarium Figaro would call home until the potion wore off. “Three drops.”

Winnie sighed dramatically. “Yes, Miss Hardbroom.” She dosed Figaro and they all waited, breath held. Even though they were expecting it, they all jumped when, with a puff of yellow smoke, he ballooned in size.

Sensing freedom, Figaro made a mad dash for the edge of the worktable, Hecate only just managing to cast a holding spell before he leapt from the edge. Penny quickly grabbed him and held on while Mavis measured.

“Exactly twelve inches!” She declared. “Get him in the tank.”      

Winnie transported Figaro into his temporary digs in the terrarium, just as someone started clapping from the doorway.

“Oh, well done indeed, girls!”

They all spun around to see Miss Cackle – Agatha Cackle – leaning in the doorway.

“Thank you, Miss Cackle,” Hecate said, both her tone and her posture suddenly rigid. “The girls will be strong contenders.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Miss Hardbroom, certainly not from you.” Agatha stepped closer to Hecate and lowered her voice. “Certainly not since you poached Penny Pestle from the spelling team.”

Hecate was careful not to roll her eyes. It wouldn’t do to be openly disrespectful to the Deputy Head – or Ada’s sister. “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hmm… no doubt.” Agatha grinned, but she didn’t mean it. “I almost forgot… my sister wants to speak with you in her office – some time ago, actually.”

Hecate pursed her lips, turning away before she said something she shouldn’t. “Go ahead and start tidying up, girls. It seems I need to meet with Miss Cackle.” She opened her pocket watch and checked the time.

After enjoying watching Hecate fidget for a few moments, Agatha let her off the hook. “Why don’t you go on ahead, Miss Hardbroom. I’ll see to the girls until you return.” She waited as Hecate transferred away before turning back to the team. “That’s a fine newt you’ve enlarged, girls. I think a successful experiment deserves some sort of reward, don’t you?” She summoned up a tray of sweets. “How about a little lab feast?”

Winnifred and Mavis looked rather excited, but Penny and Mary hesitated.

“We’re not allowed to eat in the potions room,” Penny said, somewhat wistfully.

“We’ll make an exception just this once.” Agatha handed Winnifred a fairy cake. “Don’t you worry about Miss Hardbroom. I’ll see to her.” She handed one each to Mavis and Mary. “Now, last, but certainly not least, one for you Miss Pestle.”

With a quick glance at the other girls, Penny took the fairy cake, licking the peak off the icing with the tip of her tongue.

-----

Hecate materialized in the office. Ada didn’t notice she’d appeared, and Hecate took the opportunity to watch her work. Brow furrowed, Ada idly nibbled the end of her pen as she worked. Craning her neck, Hecate could see what Ada was working on. The daily crossword. No wonder she was concentrating so hard.  She cleared her throat softly, trying not to startle.

Ada glanced up, annoyance flashing across her face at the interruption. Then she saw it was Hecate, and any annoyance vanished as her whole being lit up. She hopped to her feet at once. “Hecate! To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

Warmth flooded through Hecate. She clapped a hand over her mouth as tears welled in her eyes, spinning around so Ada couldn’t see.

“Hecate?”

Ada’s gentle voice sounded right behind her. Hecate shook her head and tried to wave away Ada’s concerns. “It’s nothing…” She felt Ada ward the door before her arms snaked around Hecate’s waist.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Ada murmured, her breath tickling Hecate’s shoulder.

Hecate collected a shaky breath. “You’ll just think me foolish.” She covered Ada’s hands with hers, pressing them tighter against her stomach.

“Ah. Well… I do think you’re foolish for a great many things, not least of which is your penchant for ruining perfectly good lemonade by adding mint.” Ada felt the low chuckle in the muscles of Hecate’s belly. “However, I can assure you that I will never think you foolish for the way you feel.”

In her heart, Hecate knew that. “It’s just… I never thought anyone would look at me the way you do and sometimes… sometimes it’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Mmm…” Ada stretched up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on the back of Hecate’s neck, ignoring the way the fine hairs that had escaped her bun tickled her nose. “I suppose you’ll simply have to get used to it.”

Hecate squeezed Ada’s hands before spinning around and lacing her fingers together behind Ada’s neck. “I’ll do my best.” She gave Ada a not-so-quick kiss on the lips before clearing her throat and stepping back to a professional distance. “What can I do for you, Headmistress?”

“I don’t know… you came here.”

“Your sister said you wished to see me.”

“While that’s always true,” Ada winked, “I didn’t ask for you. I’ve not even seen Agatha since breakfast.”

“I’d thought you might have heard from your mother.” They’d been waiting for word from Alma for almost a week now. After a couple of failed attempts to undo the marriage scroll, they’d realized they needed the same witness who had been present at the original ceremony. Since Alma had been the only other person in the room when Ada read the incantation, they reckoned she had to be the missing element in the annulment spell. Unfortunately, once Hecate had been retrieved from the alternate universe on the other side of the mirror, Alma had joined a few members of her coven on an around-the-world broomstick caravan.

She wrung her hands together. “What is my sister up to now?”

“I’ll let you know.” With that, Hecate transferred back to her lab.

-----

The girls froze mid-bite when Hecate appeared in the middle of the potions lab. “What is this?” She waved her hands, casting a quick preservation spell before floating the collection of wrappers and half-eaten fairy cakes back onto the tray. “Food is not permitted in the laboratory.” She sent the tray to her quarters, intending to complain to Ada later.

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” the girls chorused, glumly.

“Now, Miss Hardbroom, I’m sure an exception could be made for your team?” Agatha smiled at the girls. “Don’t you think they deserve a special treat?”

“What they deserve isn’t the issue, Miss Cackle. Consuming food in a potions laboratory is both unsanitary and unsafe.” Hecate turned to her girls. “Which you well know, girls.”

Agatha tutted. “Really, I don’t—”

“May I see you outside, Miss Cackle?” She spun on her boot heel and stalked into the hallway, giving Agatha little choice but to follow. As soon as the Deputy Head stepped into the corridor, Hecate launched into her protest. “I would appreciate it if you would not undermine me in front of my students. It’s most unprofessional.”

“It’s a few sweets…”

“It’s my classroom,” Hecate hissed. “Health and safety standards are very clear about not eating in laboratories.”

“Rules, rules, rules…” Agatha waved them away. “A blind adherence to rules—"

“Rules exist for a reason!” Hecate whispered at the top of her lungs.

“And may I remind you that as Deputy Head, I make the rules.” Agatha stepped closer to Hecate. “I’ve heard what they say about you… stickler to the rules… knows the Code inside and out… best potioner this side of the Magic Council… the one my sister fancies.”

“I don’t see the relevance—”

Agatha stepped closer still. “I always make it a point to get to know people. The right sort of people. I think you’re the right sort of people. I’m sure of it. You seem just the sort that could improve things around here. I’m sure you’re quite the… disciplinarian.”

Hecate’s gut screamed for her to get away, but she kept her feet planted firmly in place. “I don’t share your opinion on the need for improvement. Ada – Miss Cackle does a fine job as Headmistress of this Academy.”

“I’d never suggest otherwise about my dear sister. But,” leering, Agatha walked her fingertips up Hecate’s arm, “anything Ada can do, I can do better.”

Hecate jerked her arm away. “Pity that doesn’t include being respectful.”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed in a flash. “Not the only pity.” She curled a hand and transferred away.

As soon as she disappeared, Hecate sagged against the doorway, gasping for breath. She clawed at the sleeve of her dress, scratching her arm until she couldn’t feel the crawl of Ada’s fingers anymore.

-----

“Sister.” Agatha swaggered into the office, the leering smirk still plastered across her face. “Hard at it, I see.” She floated the crossword into the air, spinning it once before letting it drop to the desk where it flipped Ada’s spoon off her saucer and spilled her tea.

“Do I even want to ask what that business with Hecate was all about?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Are you telling me that you did not tell Hecate that I wished to see her?” Ada waited for an answer, but Agatha simply stared back at her. She wore the same blandly innocent expression she’d worn as a child whenever their mother questioned them. The one she wore when she was guilty. “Hecate said you did and I’ve no reason to doubt her.”

“But reason to doubt me?” Agatha waved her arms about. Dramatically. Ada simply crossed her arms and looked at her over the top of her glasses. “I’ll have you know that woman had the nerve to lecture me about rules! I’d insist that you take her to task for her insubordination, but we all know how she’s got you wrapped around her little stirring spoon, don’t we? She’s taking advantage of a lonely old woman to advance her own career.”

There it is, thought Ada, that’s the root of it. “Hecate is quite insistent on adhering to rules – particularly when they concern the health and safety of her students. An admirable quality in the potions teacher, wouldn’t you agree? If I were inadvertently out of compliance, I’d hope she’d tell me, rather than risk harm to a student.” Ada stood and moved until she was standing toe to toe with her sister. “As for the rest… My esteem for Miss Hardbroom is both well-known and well-established among the staff here. That was the case long before your arrival. That said, Sister, I would hate to think the Deputy Head of the school was engaging in tawdry staff room gossip about her Headmistress.”

“People talk, Ada, whether you like it or not. And what happened to Co-Heads?”

“You’ve not stepped foot in this Academy since you were sent to Wormwood’s when we were fourteen. I had to come back and put in my time as a teacher as well as Deputy Head. You’ll do the same, just like every other Headmistress has done since Christobelle Cackle passed the school to her own daughter.”

“I swear, Ada, this slavish adherence to these hidebound traditions will ruin this Academy. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the things we planned to do when we were girls?”

“Cackle’s is built on our traditions! Throw those away and we are nothing! It’s that sort of talk that makes me question the wisdom of Co-Heads altogether.”

“YOU PROMISED!” Behind them, the fireplace flared as sparking, angry magic filled the room.

“I KNOW! I also know you can’t run an academy based on the rebellious fever-dreams of a couple of teenage witches. It’s time for you to grow up, Agatha.”

“Is it? Maybe it’s time you did a little growing yourself, Big Sister.” She summoned the tea-stained newspaper. “Do you actually bother to read anything that isn’t on the puzzle page?” Agatha snatched the paper from the air and folded it back so she could shove the front page in Ada’s face. “While you’re busy worshipping the past, other witches are looking toward the future.”

She’d seen it, of course, but Ada read the headline again. MAGIC COUNCIL GRANTS CHARTER FOR PENTANGLE’S ACADEMY. “I’ve seen it. She was a student here, you know. Same year as Hecate. They were good friends.” She and Hecate had actually been following Pippa Pentangle’s efforts to start a new school – Ada with a bit of morbid curiosity about a new competitor, Hecate with a melancholy wistfulness for what might have been. She’d never said as much, but Ada was certain Pippa Pentangle was Hecate’s first love. She hoped Hecate’s feelings had been returned.

“Modern magic. That’s the shape of things to come. Student choice, food they actually want to eat instead of boiled nettles and beetle bread. Mark my words. You’re going to keep looking at what’s behind us so long that when you do finally turn around you’re going to find yourself – and this academy – nothing more than a relic.”

Agatha transferred away before Ada could respond. Sighing, she glanced at the article again.

“…presentation of the Founding Stone will take place 3 November, immediately followed by a groundbreaking ceremony and on-site reception. Headmistress Pippa Pentangle says applications are available now…”

She dropped the paper to her side, slapping it against her thigh before tossing it into the fireplace. 

----- 

“That’s enough for today, girls. You’ve done well.” Hecate beamed at her team. “Cackle’s Academy will be quite formidable at the Witchtathlon meet.”

Penny grinned proudly. “Thank you, Miss Hardbroom.” Her smile slipped. “I’m sorry we broke the rules.”

“Mmm…” Hecate chose her words carefully. “It’s difficult when someone tempts you to do something you know you shouldn’t. More so if that person is someone you like or respect. I’m not upset with you for accepting the treats. In fact, Miss Cackle was correct, you do deserve a reward for all your hard work.”

“Won’t winning be reward enough?”

“Winning would certainly be a reward, Miss Spellbody, but the work it takes to get there should be celebrated as well.” Hecate spoke slowly, stalling as her brain kicked into hyperflight trying to come up with something the girls would like. “Miss Cackle’s already given you sweets. What do you say we have an extra practice Saturday afternoon followed by…” She paused, hoping the girls would—

“Pizza?”

“A movie in the main hall?”

“An extra mirror pass?”

Hecate seized on the first idea. “Pizza!” She squeezed her eyes shut until the girls stopped squealing. “And maybe an extra mirror pass?” she added, enduring a second round of screeches. “Very good girls, now off with you.” She barely stepped aside before the girls barreled out of the lab. “WALK!” She heard the footsteps slow for about five steps before speeding up again. “All right,” she said to herself. “Time to go ask Ada how to arrange for pizza.”

Her mind buzzing with pizza and how many people might join them, Hecate didn’t realize she’d walked up on Agatha and Geraldine Gullet until she was practically on top of them. She skidded to a stop just in time to watch Agatha walk her fingers up Geraldine’s arm. Geraldine, no surprise, giggled like a schoolgirl. Hecate’s skin crawled again.

Too late to do anything but stand there, Hecate pressed her lips together and studied the dial on her pocket watch. She refused to look up, even when the hushed voices went uncomfortably quiet. After a moment, she heard the rustling of fabric.

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” Agatha murmured, loud enough for Hecate to hear. “Perhaps after dinner.”

Hecate continued inspecting her watch, not looking up until Agatha’s feet appeared in her field of vision.

“Miss Hardbroom.” With her back to Geraldine, Agatha winked and grinned in a way that felt more predatory than anything else. “You’d best hurry along to my dear sister, now. Wouldn’t want to keep your… Headmistress… waiting,” she said before transferring out of sight.

Geraldine sauntered over to her, dashing any hopes Hecate may have had for a speedy escape. “Looks like you aren’t the only one that can catch a Cackle’s eye.”

“So it seems.” Hecate debated telling her that Agatha had pulled the finger-walk move on her less than an hour ago but decided to leave it be. She tried to move past her, but Geraldine stepped in front of her again.

“There’s going to be some changes ‘round here. Mark my words. You think you’ve got it all sussed out here because Ada Cackle fancies you. We all know your sort, sniffing about for any sort of privilege. Well, Agatha Cackle fancies me. We’ll see how you get on now that you aren’t the only queen bee in the hive.”

“I look forward to seeing these changes,” Hecate said stiffly. Thankfully, when she didn’t get a rise out of Hecate, Geraldine huffed back into her classroom.

“You handled that quite well, dearie.”

Hecate spun around to find herself under the shrewd gaze of Gwen Bat. “I didn’t… You… I’m sorry you had to hear that.” She pressed her arms against her sides and ran her thumbs over her fingertips.

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for? She’s the one acting like a miserable shrew.” Gwen threaded her arm through Hecate’s. “Let me walk you to Ada’s office.”

“You don’t think I’m… sniffing about for—”

“Not at all.” Gwen squeezed Hecate’s arm against her side. “I think Ada has been happier than she’s ever been. I think you have been, too.” They turned down the corridor leading to Ada’s office. “You and she are good for each other. Don’t let Geraldine Gullet – or Agatha – take that away from you. I’d give, oh… almost anything I have to get my Algie back.”

“I have… been happy. Ada makes me…” Joyous, steady, content. “…happy. I’m a very lucky woman.”

Gwen smiled up at Hecate, genuine warmth in her eyes. “So is Ada, dear.” She pulled her arm free and smoothed the collar of Hecate’s dress. “She needs you every bit as much as you need her, especially now that Agatha’s here. Even as a little girl she created turmoil. Ada can’t see it, she never could. Ada needs you to help her see it – or to at least look out for her when she doesn’t. And you both need to quit worrying about what anybody else has to say about your happiness.”

Hecate wrapped her fingers around her pocket watch – the watch Ada had given her. She forced her words past the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Gwen.” Before she could talk herself out of it, Hecate threw her arms around the smaller woman, holding back tears when Gwen hugged her back. “I will. For Ada,” she said when they finally separated. She stood outside the door for a long while after Gwen transferred back to the chanting room. “I will.”

She opened the door to Ada’s office, stopping, shocked when she saw Ada sprawled across the sofa, holding a glass of wine? Witch’s Brew? She walked slowly towards her, taking a seat in one of the wingbacks since one of Ada’s legs was currently stretched the length of the sofa.

“Come in…” Ada drawled, handing Hecate her half-empty glass. “You’re just in time to ‘take advantage of a lonely old woman’ so you can advance your career.”

Hecate sniffed the glass, nose crinkling at the sharp scent of whisky. “Good thing I haven’t missed that opportunity, since I’m apparently just ‘sniffing about for some sort of privilege.’” She set the whisky on the side table, taking in the span of Ada’s out-stretched, trouser-clad legs. “At least according to Miss Gullet.”

“I’m surprised that didn’t come from my sister. She certainly had plenty to say on the matter to me.” She tried to float her whisky back, but Hecate grabbed it mid-air and sent it to vanishment.

“No. Your sister… didn’t say that to me.” Her eyes kept wandering to the thin strip of bare skin peeking out from where Ada’s jumper had ridden up.

“Ahhh…” Ada pointed her finger at Hecate. “She hit on you then. Took her long enough.”

“Wh- No!” Despite her protests, the tide of red flooding her cheeks answered louder.

Ada dropped her foot to the floor with a thunk and patted the spot next to her on the sofa.

Hecate transferred to the spot almost before Ada moved her hand. “Ada… that’s—”

Ada pulled her down until Hecate was tucked against her. “She’s done it all my life, dear. Anything I had or cared about, she tried to take away. Poor Bertie Applebottom didn’t know what hit him.”

“Bertie?” Hecate lifted her head to look Ada in the eye.

“I may have been a bit slow on the uptake.”

Hecate laid her head back on Ada’s shoulder. “Lucky for me you got that sorted.”

“Lucky for both of us.”

“That’s what Gwen said.” Hecate slid her arm around Ada’s waist, tracing the strip of bare skin with her fingertips. “She’s happy for us. I’m sorry your sister isn’t.”

“I should have warned you. Everyone thinks I don’t see Agatha’s faults. I do. I just… If she just had someone who believed in her… Mother never did.” She kissed Hecate’s forehead. “Speaking of Mother, she finally mirrored back. She said she’d be here by the end of the month. We can undo the marriage scroll then.”

“I’m glad. I know that makes you happy.”

Ada frowned. “Not as happy as I thought it would. Don’t get me wrong, I hate that we were forced into it, that it was done without our consent. But… I hope we’re heading that direction anyway… and—”

Hecate lightly smacked Ada’s thigh. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“I know. I know.” Ada scratched the base of Hecate’s scalp. “However, I find the fact that we can undo it seems to be enough for now. I know we’ve been waiting – I’ve been waiting – to move forward with the more… physical… aspect of our relationship… until we weren’t bound together, but… I really don’t want to do that anymore.” She felt Hecate’s breath stutter. “I’d like it if we could… if you’re ready…”

Hecate pressed her fingers to Ada’s lips. “I’d like it very much – but not tonight. You’re a bit the worse for wear from the alcohol.”

Ada nipped at Hecate’s fingers, causing her to giggle. “Fair point. ‘M not quite fit for purpose, I think.” Stifling a yawn, Ada pulled Hecate closer. “How about Saturday night? We’ll do things properly.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Ada Cackle?”

“I might be.” She dropped her voice to its sultry best. “I might be trying to get into your knickers, Hecate Hardbroom.”

Hecate rolled her eyes, “It’s time for you to sleep it off.” She climbed to her feet and pulled a slightly unsteady Ada up after her. “Saturday,” she said, kissing Ada’s cheek. “I promise you won’t have to try very hard.” 

-----

Hecate studied her reflection in the mirror, disappointed as ever with what she saw.  Her earlier bluster had long since shriveled into nervous anxiety. Looking at herself didn’t help. Her clavicles, her ribs, the points of her hip bones… all were starkly prominent. Though she was no longer cadaverous, the way she’d been immediately after Broomhead, she was still thin. Too thin, she thought, no breasts to speak of, no curves, no softness of any kind.  Ada deserved more than sharp angles and hard edges. She’d been thinner when she’d been with Prudie, but not by much. Not that it mattered. Prudie had been a temporary diversion – someone Hecate cared about, to be sure. She’d never indulged in the relationship if she hadn’t cared about the woman, but by her own choice Prudie had always been relentlessly temporary.

Ada… Ada, she hoped to spend the rest of her life with.  Ada deserved to have someone she could sink into at the end of a long day. Ada deserved to have someone who thrilled her when she looked at her. She deserves more than me, she thought. Sighing, Hecate magicked herself into the lingerie she’d bought in a moment of bravery. A nightgown really, in black silk with a not-quite modest neckline, and lace edges. It gave her the illusion of curves, at least. It was beautiful. Far more so, she decided, than the woman wearing it.

Unbidden, a childhood memory surfaced. Her birthday and, surprisingly, a gift, beautifully wrapped in heavy pewter-colored paper with a velvet ribbon in deep, inky blue. She’d opened it, breathless with anticipation, wondering at what sort of gift might be worthy of the wrapping. It was a spell book – an updated edition to a book she already had. She’d smiled and thanked her father for the gift, promising to look through it straight away as she raced to her bedroom before she lost control of her disappointment.

Pushing the memory away, Hecate replaced the gown with her usual purple pyjamas. Boxy, comfortable, and familiar, they wouldn’t create any expectations her body couldn’t live up to. A soft tapping at her bathroom door signaled that Ada had run out of patience. She swung open the door, startled to find Ada practically in the door frame.

Ada’s eyes traveled the length of Hecate’s figure, taking in the purple pyjamas as though she’d never seen them before. “You look beautiful. Those are my favorite thing that you wear.”

When Ada lifted her eyes, Hecate could see the love there – but she saw something else, too. Lust. Ada wanted her. “I – I had something else… something more…” She trailed away as Ada brought her hands to Hecate’s waist, her thumbs tracing the planes of her stomach.

“It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, dearest. There’s never been a moment I haven’t thought you beautiful.”

Hecate couldn’t pull her eyes away from Ada’s periwinkle nightdress, a silky empire-waisted number that showcased her cleavage. The silken fabric glistened beneath her fingertips when she touched it. Ada’s chest rose and fell as her breathing quickened. “I had something… nicer… for you, but I lost my nerve.” A blush crept up her chest. “I can’t help but think you’d be happier if I had twenty more pounds.”

“And you’d be happier if I carried twenty less. But I’m not going to let twenty pounds get—”

“Forty.”

“What?”

“If want to shift twenty and you want to shift twenty, that makes forty.” Hecate’s pained expression was almost comical. “I’m sorry. I know that’s neither here nor there…” She looked away, certain she’d ruined whatever sort of mood they’d managed – especially once Ada threw her head back and laughed.

“Hec. A. Te. You did not just correct my maths…” Catching her breath, she wiped tears from her eyes. “You can take the potions mistress out of the lab… but you can’t take the lab out of…” Ada dissolved into a fit of giggles. “We’re quite the pair of fools, aren’t we?”

“It would seem so,” Hecate said, smiling ruefully. She tucked a strand of hair behind Ada’s ear, her hand lingering on Ada’s cheek. “You don’t need to change a single thing for me to think you’re beautiful. Or for me to be attracted to you.”

Ada laid her hand over the back of Hecate’s, turning her head and pressing a warm kiss to Hecate’s palm. “Nor do you.” She kissed Hecate’s wrist before gently pulling her closer. “So don’t.” Ada pulled Hecate into a slow kiss. Soft, almost chaste, at first, Ada flicked her tongue across Hecate’s lips, groaning as Hecate deepened the kiss.

Hecate’s fingers tangled in Ada’s hair. She pulled her closer. She felt Ada’s hands slide up her thighs, squeezing her hips as they glided over her stomach. Hecate brought her other hand to rest over Ada’s heart, feeling it pound wildly beneath her palm.

Warm hands slipped beneath Hecate’s top, tracing patterns over the burning skin of her back, sliding upwards, following the lines of her spine. A low growl slipped past her lips; her own heartbeat thrummed in time with Ada’s as her breath came, hotter and faster.

She dropped her own hand, feeling Ada’s nipple harden as her thumb circled it. She snapped the fingers of her free hand and they were on her bed, Ada beneath her, her hair fanned out across the sheets. “Is this all right?”

“More than.” Ada pushed up from the mattress, capturing Hecate’s lips in a blistering kiss. She froze for a moment as Hecate’s hands began roaming over her skin.

Hecate stopped at once. “Ada?”

“Maybe if the lights were out?”

“If you’d like, but… I would rather see you.” Hecate shifted until she was lying next to Ada. She ran her hand up Ada’s arm, across her chest and over her belly, tracing every curve. Propping herself on her elbow, she followed the path blazed by her hand with her lips, trailing hot, wet kisses across the fabric. She moved lower, kissing Ada’s hip, pushing her gown up and kissing the bare skin of Ada’s thigh. “Beautiful…” she breathed.

“Aaahhh…” Ada lifted her hips and pulled Hecate closer. “Sod it all,” she groaned as she magicked their nightclothes away. The lights stayed on. 

----- 

Hecate breathed in the scent of Ada, who still slept, warm and soft in her arms. The windows were dark; they had a couple of hours still before sunrise. She snuggled closer, smiling against Ada’s back when she pulled Hecate’s arms tighter in her sleep. She’d just dozed off again when a furious pounding started at her door.

They jerked awake, tumbling and stumbling out of bed and to their feet.

“What on earth…” Ada fumbled through the bedding searching for her nightclothes.

The pounding got louder. “Miss Hardbroom!”

“Here,” Hecate said, tossing the periwinkle gown Ada’s direction. Ada snatched it out of the air. “Impressive – like everything else last night,” she added, winking.

“Morning after could use a little work,” Ada said, magicking herself into her gown and robe. She looked at Hecate still rummaging for hers. Hustling around the bed, she pushed a shower spell over them both and then magicked Hecate into her pyjamas and robe. As Hecate rushed past her, Ada slipped a hand inside her elbow and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “Last night was bloody brilliant.”

The pounding was constant now. Hecate transferred to the door and flung it open. “What is so important—”

Mavis Spellbody stood in the corridor, tears streaming down her face. “Hurry Miss Hardbroom! Something terrible is wrong with Penny.”

 To be continued…