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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years ago

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Anonymous asked: I have always appreciated your thoughtful views on the defence of the British monarchy, and as a university historian it’s reassuring to see someone using history to make invalubale insights to a controversial institution. I wonder what are your own thoughts on the passing of Prince Philip and what his legacy might be? Was he a gaffe prone racist and a liability to the Queen?

I know you kindly got in touch and identified yourself when you felt I was ignoring your question. I’m glad we cleared that up via DM. The truth is as I said and I’m saying here is that I had to let some time pass before I felt I could reasonably answer this question. Simply because - as you know as someone who teaches history at university - distance is good to make a sober appraisal rather than knee jerk in the moment judgements.

Contrary to what some might think I’m not really a fan girl when it comes to the royal family. I don’t religiously follow their every movement or utterance especially as I live in Paris and therefore I don’t really care about tabloid tittle tattle. I only get to hear of anything to do with the royal family when I speak to my parents or my great aunts and uncles for whom the subject is closer to their heart because of the services my family has rendered over past generations to the monarchy and the older (and dying) tight knit social circles they travel in.

Like Walter Bagehot, I’m more interested in the monarchy as an institution and its constitutional place within the historical, social, and political fabric of Britain and its continued delicate stabilising importance to that effect. It was Walter Bagehot, the great constitutional scholar and editor the Economist magazine, who said, “The mystic reverence, the religious allegiance, which are essential to a true monarchy, are imaginative sentiments that no legislature can manufacture in any people.” In his view, a politically-inactive monarchy served the best interests of the United Kingdom; by abstaining from direct rule, the monarch levitated above the political fray with dignity, and remained a respected personage to whom all subjects could look to as a guiding light.

Even as a staunch monarchist I freely confess that there has always been this odd nature of the relationship between hereditary monarchy and a society increasingly ambivalent about the institution. To paraphrase Bagehot again, there has been too much ‘daylight’ shone onto the ‘magic’ of the monarchy because we are obsessed with personalities as celebrities.

Having said that I did feel saddened by the passing of Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. After the Queen, he was my favourite royal. Anne, Princess Royal, would come next because she is very much like her father in temperament, humour, and character, so unlike her other brothers.

I have met the late Prince Philip when I was serving in the army in a few regimental meet-and-greet situations - which as you may know is pretty normal given that members of the royal family serve as honorary colonel-in-chiefs (patrons in effect) of all the British army regiments and corps.I also saw him at one or two social events such the annual charitable Royal Caledonian Ball (he’s an expert scottish reeler) and the Guards Polo Club where my older brothers played.

I’ll will freely confess that he was the one royal I could come close to identify with because his personal biography resonated with me a great deal.

Let’s be honest, the core Windsor family members, born to privilege, are conditioned and raised to be dull. Perhaps that’s a a tad harsh. I would prefer the term ‘anonymously self-effacing’, just another way of saying ‘for God’s sake don’t draw attention to yourself by saying or doing anything even mildly scandalous or political lest it invites public opprobrium and scrutiny’. The Queen magnificently succeeds in this but the others from Charles down just haven’t (with the exception of Princess Anne).

However, many people forget this obvious fact that it’s the incoming husbands and wives who marry into the Windsor family who are relied upon to bring colour and even liven things up a little. And long before Kate Middleton, Meghan Markle (very briefly), or Lady Diana Spencer, were the stars of ‘The Firm’- a phrase first coined by King George VI, Queen Elizabeth II's father who ruled from 1936 to 1952, who was thought to have wryly said, "British royals are 'not a family, we're a firm,” - it was Prince Philip who really livened things up and made the greater impact on the monarchy than any of them in the long term.

Prince Philip’s passing belied the truth of a far more complex individual: a destitute and penniless refugee Greek-Danish prince with a heart breaking backstory that could have been penned by any 19th Century novelist, and also eagle eyed reformer who tried to drag the royal family into the 20th century. At the core of the man - lost scion of a lost European royal dynasty, a courageous war veteran, and Queen’s consort - were values in which he attempted to transform and yet maintain much older inherited traditions and attitudes. Due to his great longevity, Philip’s life came to span a period of social change that is almost unprecedented, and almost no one in history viewed such a transformation from the front row.

Prince Philip would seem to represent in an acute form the best of the values of that era, which in many ways jar with today’s. He had fought with great courage in the war as a dashing young naval officer; he was regularly rude to foreigners, which was obviously a bonus to all Brits. He liked to ride and sail and shoot things. He was unsentimental almost to a comic degree, which felt reassuring at a time when a new-found emotional incontinence made many feel uncomfortable. Outrageous to some but endearing to others, he was the sort of man you’d want to go for a pint with, perhaps the ultimate compliment that an Englishman can pay to another Englishman. This has its own delicious irony as he wasn’t really an Englishman.

There are 4 takeways I would suggest in my appraisal of Prince Philip that stand out for me. So let me go through each one.

1. Prince Philip’s Internationalism

It may seem odd for me to say that Prince Philip wasn’t English but he wasn’t an Englishman in any real sense. He was a wretch of the world - stateless, homeless, and penniless. That the Prince of Nowhere became the British Monarchy’s figurehead was more than fitting for a great age of migration and transition in which the Royal Family survived and even flourished. That he was able to transform himself into the quintessential Englishman is testimony not just to his personal determination but also to the powerful cultural pull of Britishness.

He was born on a kitchen table in Corfu in June 1921. A year later in 1922, Philip, as the the great-great-grandson of Queen Victoria and nephew of Constantine I of Greece, was forced to flee with his family after the abdication of Constantine. He grew up outside Paris speaking French; ethnically he was mostly German although he considered himself Danish, his family originating from the Schleswig border region. He was in effect, despite his demeanour of Royal Navy officer briskness, a citizen of nowhere in an age of movement. From a very young age he was a stateless person, nationally homeless. Indeed, Philip was an outsider in a way that even Meghan Markle could never be; at his wedding in 1947, his three surviving sisters and two brothers-in-law were not permitted to attend because they were literally Britain’s enemies, having fought for the Germans. A third brother-in-law had even been in the SS, working directly for Himmler, but had been killed in the conflict.

Even his religion was slightly exotic. He was Greek Orthodox until he converted to Anglicanism on marrying Elizabeth - what with his wife due to become supreme head of the Church and everything - but his ties with eastern Christianity remained. His great-aunts Princess Elisabeth of Hesse and by Rhine and Tsarina Alexandra are both martyrs of the Russian Orthodox Church, having been murdered by the Bolsheviks; Philip’s mother went on to become an Orthodox nun and a “Righteous Among the Nations” for saving a Jewish family during the Nazi occupation of Greece, spending much of her time in squalid poverty.

His parents were part of the largely German extended aristocracy who ruled almost all of Europe before it all came crashing down in 1918. When he died, aged 99, it marked a near-century in which all the great ideological struggles had been and gone; he had been born before the Soviet Union but outlived the Cold War, the War on Terror and - almost - Covid-19.

The world that Philip was born into was a far more violent and dangerous place than ours. In the year he was born, Irish rebels were still fighting Black and Tans; over the course of 12 months the Spanish and Japanese prime ministers were assassinated, there was a coup in Portugal and race riots in the United States. Germany was rocked by violence from the far-Left and far-Right, while in Italy a brutal new political movement, the Fascists, secured 30 seats in parliament, led by a trashy journalist called Benito Mussolini.

The worst violence, however, took place in Greece and Turkey. Following the defeat of the Ottoman Empire, what remained of Turkey was marked for permanent enfeeblement by the Allies. But much to everyone’s surprise the country’s force were roused by the brilliant officer Mustafa Kemal, who led the Turks to victory. Constantinople was lost to Christendom for good and thousands of years of Hellenic culture was put to the flames in Smyrna.

The Greek royal family, north German imports shipped in during the 19th century, bore much of the popular anger for this disaster. King Constantine fled to Italy, and his brother Andrew was arrested and only escaped execution through the intervention of his relative Britain’s George V. Andrew’s wife Alice, their four daughters and infant son Philip fled to France, completely impoverished but with the one possession that ensures that aristocrats are never truly poor: connections.

Philip had a traumatic childhood. He was forged by the turmoil of his first decade and then moulded by his schooling. His early years were spent wandering, as his place of birth ejected him, his family disintegrated and he moved from country to country, none of them ever his own. When he was just a year old, he and his family were scooped up by a British destroyer from his home on the Greek island of Corfu after his father had been condemned to death. They were deposited in Italy. One of Philip's first international journeys was spent crawling around on the floor of the train from an Italian port city, "the grubby child on the desolate train pulling out of the Brindisi night," as his older sister Sophia later described it.

In Paris, he lived in a house borrowed from a relative; but it was not destined to become a home. In just one year, while he was at boarding school in Britain, the mental health of his mother, Princess Alice, deteriorated and she went into an asylum; his father, Prince Andrew, went off to Monte Carlo to live with his mistress. "I don't think anybody thinks I had a father," he once said. Andrew would die during the war. Philip went to Monte Carlo to pick up his father's possessions after the Germans had been driven from France; there was almost nothing left, just a couple of clothes brushes and some cuff-links.

Philip’s four sisters were all much older, and were soon all married to German aristocrats (the youngest would soon die in an aeroplane crash, along with her husband and children). His sisters became ever more embroiled in the German regime. In Scotland going to Gordonstoun boarding school, Philip went the opposite direction, becoming ever more British. Following the death of his sister Cecilie in a plane crash in 1937, the gulf widened. As the clouds of conflict gathered, the family simply disintegrated. With a flash of the flinty stoicism that many would later interpret, with no little justification, as self-reliance to the point of dispassion, the prince explained: “It’s simply what happened. The family broke up… I just had to get on with it. You do. One does.”

In the space of 10 years he had gone from a prince of Greece to a wandering, homeless, and virtually penniless boy with no-one to care for him. He got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

By the time he went to Gordonstoun, a private boarding school on the north coast of Scotland, Philip was tough, independent and able to fend for himself; he'd had to be. Gordonstoun would channel those traits into the school's distinct philosophy of community service, teamwork, responsibility and respect for the individual. And it sparked one of the great passions of Philip's life - his love of the sea. It was Gordonstoun that nurtured that love through the maturation of his character.

Philip adored the school as much as his son Charles would despise it. Not just because the stress it put on physical as well as mental excellence - he was a great sportsman. But because of its ethos, laid down by its founder Kurt Hahn, a Jewish exile from Nazi Germany.

Hahn first met Philip as a boy in Nazi Germany. Through a connection via one of his sister’s husbands, Philip, the poor, lonely boy was first sent off to a new school - in Nazi Germany. Which was as fun as can be imagined. Schloss Salem had been co-founded by stern educator called Kurt Hahn, a tough, discipline-obsessed conservative nationalist who saw civilisation in inexorable decline. But by this stage Hahn, persecuted for being Jewish in Nazi Germany, had fled to Britain, and Philip did not spend long at the school either, where pressure from the authorities was already making things difficult for the teachers. Philip laughed at the Nazis at first, because their salute was the same gesture the boys at his previous school had to make when they wanted to go to the toilet, but within a year he was back in England, a refugee once again.

Philip happily attended Hahn’s new school, Gordonstoun, which the strict disciplinarian had set up in the Scottish Highlands. Inspired by Ancient Sparta, the boys (and then later girls) had to run around barefoot and endure cold showers, even in winter, the whole aim of which was to drive away the inevitable civilisational decay Hahn saw all around him. To 21st century ears it sounds like hell on earth, yet Philip enjoyed it, illustrating just what a totally alien world he came from.

That ethos became a significant, perhaps the significant, part of the way that Philip believed life should be lived. It shines through the speeches he gave later in his life. "The essence of freedom," he would say in Ghana in 1958, "is discipline and self-control." The comforts of the post-war era, he told the British Schools Exploring Society a year earlier, may be important "but it is much more important that the human spirit should not be stifled by easy living". And two years before that, he spoke to the boys of Ipswich School of the moral as well as material imperatives of life, with the "importance of the individual" as the "guiding principle of our society".

It was at Gordonstoun one of the great contradictions of Philip's fascinating life was born. The importance of the individual was what in Kurt Hahn's eyes differentiated Britain and liberal democracies from the kind of totalitarian dictatorship that he had fled. Philip put that centrality of the individual, and individual agency - the ability we have as humans to make our own moral and ethical decisions - at the heart of his philosophy.

At Dartmouth Naval College in 1939, the two great passions of his life would collide. He had learned to sail at Gordonstoun; he would learn to lead at Dartmouth. And his driving desire to achieve, and to win, would shine through. Despite entering the college far later than most other cadets, he would graduate top of his class in 1940. In further training at Portsmouth, he gained the top grade in four out of five sections of the exam. He became one of the youngest first lieutenants in the Royal Navy.

The navy ran deep in his family. His maternal grandfather had been the First Sea Lord, the commander of the Royal Navy; his uncle, "Dickie" Mountbatten, had command of a destroyer while Philip was in training. In war, he showed not only bravery but guile. It was his natural milieu. "Prince Philip", wrote Gordonstoun headmaster Kurt Hahn admiringly, "will make his mark in any profession where he will have to prove himself in a trial of strength".

2. Prince Philip and the modernisation of the monarchy

In his own words, the process of defining what it meant to be a royal consort was one of “trial and error.” Speaking with BBC One’s Fiona Bruce in 2011, Philip explained, “There was no precedent. If I asked somebody, 'What do you expect me to do?' they all looked blank. They had no bloody idea, nobody had much idea.” So he forged for himself a role as a moderniser of the monarchy.

He could not have had much idea back in 1939. Back then in Dartmouth in 1939, as war became ever more certain, the navy was his destiny. He had fallen in love with the sea itself. "It is an extraordinary master or mistress," he would say later, "it has such extraordinary moods." But a rival to the sea would come.

When King George VI toured Dartmouth Naval College, accompanied by Philip's uncle, he brought with him his daughter, Princess Elizabeth. Philip was asked to look after her. He showed off to her, vaulting the nets of the tennis court in the grounds of the college. He was confident, outgoing, strikingly handsome, of royal blood if without a throne. She was beautiful, a little sheltered, a little serious, and very smitten by Philip.

Did he know then that this was a collision of two great passions? That he could not have the sea and the beautiful young woman? For a time after their wedding in 1948, he did have both. As young newlyweds in Malta, he had what he so prized - command of a ship - and they had two idyllic years together. But the illness and then early death of King George VI brought it all to an end.

He knew what it meant, the moment he was told. Up in a lodge in Kenya, touring Africa, with Princess Elizabeth in place of the King, Philip was told first of the monarch's death in February 1952. He looked, said his equerry Mike Parker, "as if a ton of bricks had fallen on him". For some time he sat, slumped in a chair, a newspaper covering his head and chest. His princess had become the Queen. His world had changed irrevocably.

While the late Princess Diana was later to famously claim that there were “three people” in her marriage - herself, Prince Charles and Camilla - there were at least 55 million in Philip and Elizabeth’s. As Elizabeth dedicated her life to her people at Westminster Abbey at the Coronation on June 2, 1953, it sparked something of an existential crisis in Philip. Many people even after his death have never really understood this pivotal moment in Philip’s life. All his dreams of being a naval officer and a life at sea as well as being the primary provider and partner in his marriage were now sacrificed on the altar of duty and love.

With his career was now over, and he was now destined to become the spare part. Philip, very reasonably, asked that his future children and indeed his family be known by his name, Mountbatten. In effect he was asking to change the royal family’s name from the House of Windsor to the House of Mountbatten. But when Prime Minister Winston Churchill got wind of it as well as the more politically agile courtiers behind the Queen, a prolonged battle of wits ensued, and it was one Philip ultimately lost. It was only in 1957 that he accepted the title of “Prince.”

Even though he had almost lost everything dear to him and his role now undefined, he didn’t throw himself a pity party. He just got on with it. Philip tried to forge his own distinct role as second fiddle to the woman who had come to represent Great Britain. He designated himself the First Officer of the Good Ship Windsor. He set about dusting off some of the cobwebs off the throne and letting some daylight unto the workings of the monarchy by advocating reasonable amount of modernisation of the monarchy.

He had ideas about modernising the royal family that might be called “improving optics” today. But in his heart of hearts he didn’t want the monarchy to become a stuffy museum piece. He envisaged a less stuffy and more popular monarchy, relevant to the lives of ordinary people. Progress was always going to be incremental as he had sturdy opposition from the old guard who wanted to keep everything as it was, but nevertheless his stubborn energy resulted in significant changes.

When a commission chaired by Prince Philip proposed broadcasting the 1953 investiture ceremony that formally named Elizabeth II as queen on live television, Prime Minister Winston Churchill reacted with outright horror, declaring, “It would be unfitting that the whole ceremony should be presented as if it were a theatrical performance.” Though the queen had initially voiced similar concerns, she eventually came around to the idea, allowing the broadcast of all but one segment of the coronation. Ultimately, according to the BBC, more than 20 million people tuned in to the televised ceremony - a credit to the foresight of Philip.

Elizabeth’s coronation marked a watershed moment for a monarchy that has, historically, been very hands off, old-fashioned and slightly invisible. Over the following years, the royals continued to embrace television as a way of connecting with the British people: In 1957, the queen delivered her annual Christmas address during a live broadcast. Again, this was Philip’s doing when he cajoled the Queen to televise her message live. He even helped her in how to use the teleprompter to get over her nerves and be herself on screen.

Four years later, in 1961, Philip became the first family member to sit for a television interview. It is hard for us to imagine now but back then it was huge. For many it was a significant step in modernising the monarchy.

Though not everything went to plan. Toward the end of the decade, the Windsors even invited cameras into their home. A 1969 BBC fly-on-the-wall documentary, instigated by Philip to show life behind the scenes, turned into an unmitigated disaster: “The Windsors” revealed the royals to be a fairly normal, if very rich, British upper-class family who liked barbecues, ice cream, watching television and bickering. The mystery of royalty took a hit below the waterline from their own torpedo, a self-inflicted wound from which they took a long time to recover. Shown once, the documentary was never aired again. But it had an irreversible effect, and not just by revealing the royals to be ordinary. By allowing the cameras in, Philip opened the lid to the prying eyes of the paparazzi who could legitimately argue that since the Royals themselves had sanctioned exposure, anything went. From then on, minor members of the House of Windsor were picked off by the press, like helpless tethered animals on a hunting safari.

Prince Philip also took steps to reorganise and renovate the royal estates in Sandringham and Balmoral such as intercoms, modern dish washers, generally sought to make the royal household and the monarchy less stuffy, not to have so much formality everywhere.

Philip helped modernised the monarchy in other ways to acknowledge that the monarchy could be responsive to changes in society. It was Prince Philip - much to the chagrin of the haughty Princess Margaret and other stuffy old courtiers - who persuaded the Queen to host informal lunches and garden parties designed to engage a broader swath of the British public. Conversely, Prince Philip heartily encouraged the Queen (she was all for it apparently but was still finding her feet as a new monarch) to end the traditional practice of presenting debutantes from aristocratic backgrounds at court in 1952. For Philip and others it felt antiquated and out of touch with society. I know in speaking to my grandmother and others in her generation the decision was received with disbelief at how this foreign penniless upstart could come and stomp on the dreams of mothers left to clutch their pearls at the prospect there would be no shop window for their daughter to attract a suitable gentleman for marriage. One of my great aunts was over the moon happy that she never would have to go through what she saw as a very silly ceremony because she preferred her muddy wellies to high heels.

A former senior member of the royal household, who spent several years working as one of Prince Philip’s aides, and an old family friend, once told us around a family dinner table that the Duke of Edinburgh was undoubtedly given a sense of permanence by his marriage into the Royal Family that was missing from earlier years. But the royal aide would hastily add that Prince Philip, of course, would never see it that way.

Prince Philip’s attitude was to never brood on things or seek excuses. And he did indeed get on with the job in his own way - there should be no doubt that when it came to building and strengthening the Royal Family it was a partnership of equals with the Queen. Indeed contrary to Netflix’s hugely popular series ‘The Crown’ and its depiction of the royal marriage with Philip’s resentment at playing second fiddle, the prince recognised that his “first duty was to serve the Queen in the best way I could,” as he told ITV in 2011. Though this role was somewhat ill-suited to his dynamic, driven, and outspoken temperament, Philip performed it with utter devotion.

3. Prince Philip’s legacy

One could argue rightly that modernising the monarchy was his lasting legacy achievement. But he also tried to modernise a spent and exhausted Britain as it emerged from a ruinous war. When peace came, and with it eventual economic recovery, Philip would throw himself into the construction of a better Britain, urging the country to adopt scientific methods, embracing the ideas of industrial design, planning, education and training. A decade before Harold Wilson talked of the "white heat of the technological revolution", Philip was urging modernity on the nation in speeches and interviews. He was on top of his reading of the latest scientific breakthroughs and well read in break out innovations.

This interest in modernisation was only matched by his love for nature. As the country and the world became richer and consumed ever more, Philip warned of the impact on the environment, well before it was even vaguely fashionable. As president of the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) in the UK for more than 20 years from 1961, he was one of the first high-profile advocates of the cause of conservation and biological diversity at a time when it was considered the preserve of an eccentric few.

For a generation of school children in Britain and the Commonwealth though, his most lasting legacy and achievement will be the Duke of Edinburgh Awards (DofE). He set up the Duke of Edinburgh award, a scheme aimed at getting young people out into nature in search of adventure or be of service to their communities. It was a scheme that could match the legacy of Baden Powell’s scouts movement.

When Prince Philip first outlined his idea of a scheme to harness the values of his education at Gordonstoun by bringing character-building outdoor pursuits to the many rather than the fee-paying few, he received short shrift from the government of the day. The then minister of education, Sir David Eccles responded to the Duke’s proposal by saying: “I hear you’re trying to invent something like the Hitler Youth.” Undeterred he pushed on until it came to fruition.

I’m so glad that he did. I remember how proud I was for getting my DofE Awards while I was at boarding school. With the support of great mentors I managed to achieve my goals: collecting second-hand English books for a literacy programme for orphaned street children in Delhi, India with a close Indian school friend and her family; and completing a 350 mile hike following St. Olav’s Pilgrimmage Trail from Selånger, on the east coast of Sweden, and ending at Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, on the west coast of Norway.

It continues to be an enduring legacy. Since its launch in 1956, the Duke of Edinburgh awards have been bestowed upon some 2.5 million youngsters in Britain and some eight million worldwide. For a man who once referred to himself as a “Greek princeling of no consequence”, his pioneering tutelage of these two organisations (alongside some 778 other organisations of which he was either president or a patron) would be sufficient legacy for most.

4. Prince Philip’s character

It may surprise some but what I liked most about Prince Philip was the very thing that helped him achieve so much and leave a lasting legacy: his character.

It is unhelpful to the caricature of Prince Philip as an unwavering but pugnacious consort whose chief talent was a dizzying facility in off-colour one-liners that he was widely read and probably the cleverest member of his family.

His private library at Windsor consists of 11,000 tomes, among them 200 volumes of poetry. He was a fan of Jung, TS Eliot, Shakespeare and the cookery writer Elizabeth David. As well as a lifelong fascination with science, technology and sport, he spoke fairly fluent French, painted and wrote a well received book on birds. It’s maddening to think how many underestimated his genuine intellect and how cultured he was behind the crusty exterior.

He didn’t have an entourage to fawn around him. He was the first to own a computer at Buckingham Palace. He answered his own phone and wrote and responded to his own correspondence. By force of character he fought the old guard courtiers at every turn to modernise the monarchy against their stubborn resistance.

Prince Philip was never given to self-analysis or reflection on the past. Various television interviewers tried without success to coerce him in to commenting on his legacy.But once when his guard was down he asked on the occasion of his 90th birthday what he was more proud of, he replied with characteristic bluntness: “I couldn’t care less. Who cares what I think about it, I mean it’s ridiculous.”

All of which neatly raises the profound aversion to fuss and the proclivity for tetchiness often expressed in withering put-downs that, for better or worse, will be the reflex memory for many of the Duke of Edinburgh. If character is a two edged sword so what of his gaffes?

There is no doubt his cult status partly owed to his so-called legendary gaffes, of which there are enough to fill a book (indeed there is a book). But he was no racist. None of the Commonwealth people or foreign heads of state ever said this about him. Only leftist republicans with too much Twitter time on their hands screamed such a ridiculous accusation. They’re just overly sensitive snowflakes and being devoid of any humour they’re easily triggered.

There was the time that Philip accepted a gift from a local in Kenya, telling her she was a kind woman, and then adding: “You are a woman, aren’t you?” Or the occasion he remarked “You managed not to get eaten, then?” to a student trekking in Papua New Guinea. Then there was his World Wildlife Fund speech in 1986, when he said: “If it has got four legs and it is not a chair, if it has got two wings and it flies but is not an aeroplane, and if it swims and it is not a submarine, the Cantonese will eat it.” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Philip quickly developed a reputation for what he once defined, to the General Dental Council, as “dentopedology – the science of opening your mouth and putting your foot in it”. Clearly he could laugh at himself as he often did as an ice breaker to put others at ease.

His remarking to the president of Nigeria, who was wearing national dress, “You look like you’re ready for bed”, or advising British students in China not to stay too long or they would end up with “slitty eyes”, is probably best written off as ill-judged humour. Telling a photographer to “just take the fucking picture” or declaring “this thing open, whatever it is”, were expressions of exasperation or weariness with which anyone might sympathise.

Above all, he was also capable of genuine if earthy wit, saying of his horse-loving daughter Princess Anne: “If it doesn’t fart or eat hay she isn’t interested.” Many people might have thought it but few dared say it. If Prince Philip’s famous gaffes provoked as much amusement as anger, it was precisely because they seem to give voice to the bewilderment and pent-up frustrations with which many people viewed the ever-changing modern world.

A former royal protection officer recounts how while on night duty guarding a visiting Queen and consort, he engaged in conversation with colleagues on a passing patrol. It was 2am and the officer had understood the royal couple to be staying elsewhere in the building until a window above his head was abruptly slammed open and an irate Prince Philip stuck his head out of the window to shout: “Would you fuck off!” Without another word, he then shut the window.

The Duke at least recognised from an early age that he was possessed of an abruptness that could all too easily cross the line from the refreshingly salty to crass effrontery.

One of his most perceptive biographers, Philip Eade, recounted how at the age of 21 the prince wrote a letter to a relation whose son had recently been killed in combat. He wrote: “I know you will never think much of me. I am rude and unmannerly and I say things out of turn which I realise afterwards must have hurt someone. Then I am filled with remorse and I try to put matters right.”

In the case of the royal protection officer, the Duke turned up in the room used by the police officers when off duty and said: “Terribly sorry about last night, wasn’t quite feeling myself.”

Aides have also ventured to explain away some of their employer’s more outlandish remarks - from asking Cayman islanders “You are descended from pirates aren’t you?” to enquiring of a female fashion writer if she was wearing mink knickers - as the price of his instinctive desire to prick the pomposity of his presence with a quip to put others at ease.

Indeed many people forget that his ‘gaffes’ were more typical of the clubbish humour of the British officer class – which of course would be less appreciated, sometimes even offensive, to other ears. It’s why he could relate so well to veterans who enjoyed his bonhomie company immensely.

But behind the irascibility, some have argued there also lay a darker nature, unpleasantly distilled in his flinty attitude to his eldest son. One anecdote tells of how, in the aftermath of the murder of the Duke’s uncle and surrogate father, Lord Mountbatten, Philip lectured his son, who was also extremely fond of his “honorary grandfather”, that he was not to succumb to self-pity. Charles left the room in tears and when his father was asked why he had spoken to his son with so little compassion, the Duke replied: “Because if there’s any crying to be done I want it to happen within this house, in front of his family, not in public. He must be toughened up, right now.”

But here I would say that Prince Philip’s intentions were almost always sincere and in no way cruel. He has always tried to protect his family - even from their own worst selves or from those outside the family ‘firm’ who may not have their best interest at heart.

In 1937, a 16-year-old Prince Philip had walked behind his elder sister Cecile’s coffin after she was killed in a plane crash while heavily pregnant. The remains of newly-born infant found in the wreckage suggested the aircraft had perished as the pilot sought to make an emergency landing in fog as the mother entered childbirth. It was an excruciating taste of tragedy which would one day manifest itself in a very princely form of kindness that was deep down that defined Philip’s character.

When about 60 years later Prime Minister Tony Blair’s spin doctors in Downing Street tried to strong arm the Queen and the royal household over the the arrangements for the late Prince Diana’s funeral, it was Philip who stepped in front to protect his family. The Prime Minister and his media savvy spin doctors wanted the two young princes, William and Harry, to walk behind the coffin.

The infamous exchange was on the phone during a conference call between London and Balmoral, and the emotional Philip was reportedly backed by the Queen. The call was witnessed by Anji Hunter, who worked for Mr Blair. She said how surprised she was to hear Prince Philip’s emotion. ‘It’s about the boys,” he cried, “They’ve lost their mother”. Hunter thought to herself, “My God, there’s a bit of suffering going on up there”.’

Sky TV political commentator Adam Boulton (Anji Hunter’s husband) would write in his book Tony’s Ten Years: ‘The Queen relished the moment when Philip bellowed over the speakerphone from Balmoral, “Fuck off. We are talking about two boys who have just lost their mother”. Boulton goes on to say that Philip: ‘…was trying to remind everyone that human feelings were involved. No 10 were trying to help the Royals present things in the best way, but may have seemed insensitive.’

In the end the politicians almost didn’t get their way. Prince Philip stepped in to counsel his grandson, Prince William, after he had expressed a reluctance to follow his mother’s coffin after her death in Paris. Philip told the grieving child: “If you don’t walk, I think you’ll regret it later. If I walk, will you walk with me?”

It’s no wonder he was sought as a counsellor by other senior royals and especially close to his grandchildren, for whom he was a firm favourite. His relationship with Harry was said to have become strained, however, following the younger Prince’s decision to reject his royal inheritance for a life away from the public eye in America with his new American wife, Meghan Markle. For Prince Philip I am quite sure it went against all the elder Prince had lived his life by - self-sacrifice for the greater cause of royalty.

This is the key to Philip’s character and in understanding the man. The ingrained habits of a lifetime of duty and service in one form or another were never far away.

In conclusion then....

After more time passes I am sure historians will make a richer reassessment of Prince Philip’s life and legacy. Because Prince Philip was an extraordinary man who lived an extraordinary life; a life intimately connected with the sweeping changes of our turbulent 20th Century, a life of fascinating contrast and contradiction, of service and some degree of solitude. A complex, clever, eternally restless man that not even the suffocating protocols of royalty and tradition could bind him.

Although he fully accepted the limitations of public royal service, he did not see this as any reason for passive self-abnegation, but actively, if ironically, identified with his potentially undignified role. It is this bold and humorous embrace of fated restriction which many now find irksome: one is no longer supposed to mix public performance with private self-expression in quite this manner.

Yet such a mix is authentically Socratic: the proof that the doing of one’s duty can also be the way of self-fulfilment. The Duke’s sacrifice of career to romance and ceremonial office is all the more impressive for his not hiding some annoyance. The combination of his restless temperament and his deeply felt devotion to duty found fruitful expression; for instance, in the work of Saint George’s House Windsor - a centre and retreat that he created with Revd. Robin Woods - in exploring religious faith, philosophy, and contemporary issues.

Above all he developed a way to be male that was both traditional and modern. He served one woman with chivalric devotion as his main task in life while fulfilling his public engagements in a bold and active spirit. He eventually embraced the opportunity to read and contemplate more. And yet, he remained loyal to the imperatives of his mentor Kurt Hahn in seeking to combine imagination with action and religious devotion with practical involvement.

Prince Philip took more pride in the roles he had accidentally inherited than in the personal gifts which he was never able fully to develop. He put companionship before self-realisation and acceptance of a sacred symbolic destiny before the mere influencing of events. In all these respects he implicitly rebuked our prevailing meritocracy which over-values officially accredited attainment, and our prevailing narcissism which valorises the assertion of discrete identities.

Prince Philip was Britain’s longest-serving consort. He was steadfast, duty driven, and a necessary adjunct to the continuity and stability of the Queen and the monarchy. Of all the institutions that have lost the faith of the British public in this period - the Church, Parliament, the media, the police - the Monarchy itself has surprisingly done better than most at surviving, curiously well-adapted to a period of societal change and moral anarchy. The House of Hanover and later Saxe-Coburg and Gotha (changed to Windsor), since their arrival in this country in 1714, have been noted above all for their ability to adapt. And just as they survived the Victorian age by transforming themselves into the bourgeoise, domestic ideal, so they have survived the new Elizabethan era (Harry-Meghan saga is just a passing blip like the Edward-Wallis Simpson saga of the 1930s).

There was once a time when the Royal’s German blood was a punchline for crude and xenophobic satirists. Now it is the royals who are deeply British while the country itself is increasingly cosmopolitan and globalised. British society has seen a greater demographic change than the preceding four or five thousand years combined, the second Elizabethan age has been characterised more than anything by a transformational movement of people. Prince Philip, the Greek-born, Danish-German persecuted and destitute wanderer who came to become one of the Greatest Britons of the past century, perhaps epitomised that era better than anyone else. And he got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

I hope I don’t exaggerate when I say that in our troubled times over identity, and our place and purpose in the world, we need to heed his selfless example more than ever.

As Heraclitus wisely said, Ήθος ανθρώπω δαίμων (Character is destiny.)

RIP Prince Philip. You were my prince. God damn you, I miss you already.

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #prince philip #duke of edinburgh #queen elizabeth II #the queen of spades #monarchy #britain #british #royalty #politics #history #culture #europe #crown #icon #great briton #society

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discoveringsandra · 3 years ago

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Characters I project my transness on: Shrek's Fiona

GENERAL SPOILER ALERT FOR THE SHREK MOVIE FRANCHISE

A subversion af the damsel in distress trope, Fiona isn't an ordinary princess. She burps, kicks ass and is generally disappointed by actual princes.

In the first movie, she transformed into an ogre by night. She saw this as a curse until she learned to love both another ogre and this side of herself. Even if she hasn't always looked like an ogre, she ends up renouncing to normative beauty and living as one.

Then, she spends the second film trying to convince her parents to love both her husband and her identity, while his father tries to get her to fit into the fairy tale princess role she was meant to have. It turns out her father was just preventing her from risking his own position as human-looking king, since marrying her with a prince was part of the deal he made with a fairy when he was a toad (I can't blame him for wanting to make Julie Andrews his queen, though).

This film has many queer experience parallels, with both Fiona's parents and Far Far Away's elitist society being outraged by her life choices, as well as the father projecting his own anxieties about fitting in this society on to his daughter. I would say that there are a couple of kind of queerphobic jokes, one about the Big Bad Wolf being gender-confused (which is more or less okay since it comes from the main villain) and a really weird one on pinocchio wearing women's underwear (which is not okay since he is a child and they are mockingly confronting him on this to use his elongated nose).

Going back to our favourite ogre princess, the plot of the third movie has her staying back home while Shrek goes to find a heir for the kingdom's throne and overcome his parenthood anxiety. However, the Charming Prince she was supposed to marry on the second movie comes back and takes the kingdom during her baby shower. We get to see her starting a princesses' escape and fight evil goons while being pregnant, but I think se was kind of separated from the main plot so Shrek could come to her rescue again at the end, which is why this is the least interesting movie in the franchise.

The fourth movie does the "Its a Wonderful Life" thing where an unsatisfied Shrek goes to an alternate reality in which he has never been born. The version of Fiona we see there is a warrior, the leader of the ogre resistance to Rumpelstilskin tyrannical rule. She rescued herself from the tower she was locked in in the first film and it's implied she still becomes human by day and does some reconnaisance, but she is fully accepted among the ogres. Although she's got her own revolution going on, her whole arc is learning to trust Shrek so he can learn to not give her for granted once he comes back to his reality, which kind of undermines the whole revolutionary leader thing.

Still, drawing my own transgender parallel, the difference between this two realities in how ogres are treated can be seen as the difference in how real world countries treat the LGBTQ+ community. Main timeline Shrek and Fiona are more or less respected because they had a chance to fight for their rights as well as the privilege given to Fiona for being a princess. Resistance leader Fiona never had a chance to convince her powerful parents to respect her identity as an ogre because they lost their kingdom to Rumpelstilskin, who then started hunting down ogres, forcing them into hiding away from the rest of society. That's the present many queer people around the world have to live, the past those who live free can't forget and the possible future we'll never stop fearing.

This took a pretty dark turn so let's ask ourselves "what if Fiona was actually trans?" Well, if Fiona was a transgender male ogre, the plot would be essentially the same except the pregnancy in the third movie would be replaced by an adoption waiting list and the transformation in the second movie would be a metaphor for detransitioning out of family pressure. Also, male ogre Fiona (Finn?) would wear lumberjack shirts and his alternate reality version would cosplay Braveheart.

If Fiona was a transgender female ogre, though, the plot would be radically different. I think she would still dress as a princess when she was in human male form and there would be jokes similars to those on the Ugly Stepsister (oh, I forgot about her and her deep voice, she's "ugly" because she's got masculine traits, so funny 😒) but with some sort of catharsis once she becomes permanently an ogress. I guess Farquad would be extra rude to her but she would still think she had to marry him to break the curse, then Shrek confesses her love, enter the dragon and I'm a believer. I guess Prince Charming would still try to marry a remasculinized Fiona in the second film (come on, he's a queer coded villain) and, for sure, the king would still try to fool her to do it. The third and fourth movie wouldn't change much, as Fiona's past human form is irrelevant in the third and she never appears in human form in the fourth. Maybe her daylight human male form would be a more obvious parallel of how trans women have to go on boymode to survive.

To finish this already too long tirade, I just want to add that the idea of Fiona's true form seems to be fluid. Had the hero of the story been a human peasant, she would probably still stay a pretty normative princess, even if he accepted her as an ogre, like a gender reversed Beauty and the Beast. I love that they didn't go for that ending.

#characters i project my transness on #princess fiona #shrek #transgender #trans #queer #I didn't even mention donkey #lord farquaad #far far away #rumplestiltskin #prince charming #fairy godmother #big bad wolf #Pinocchio #Ugly Stepsister #Shrek as a coming out movie #I think I spent too much time on this one

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lesbiancolumbo · 2 years ago

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Hi!

I am the Ferris bueller anon and I have more questions for you but also an answer!

So, bc you are always so kind to me, I will tell you why maybe people are a bit intimidated by you, or at least why I feel like that.

You really have a lot of good and strong opinions of films, you know a lot about them and really your passion makes you honour and I love it! I discovered many good movies thank to you and sincerely I am so grateful.

So when it comes to talk about "lesser" movies or something I know you don't really dig it's difficult bc it's like going to h&m with Christian Dior. I know I can like and enjoy my silly 2€ t shirt but I feel a bit ashamed doing this with you. Obv it's all in my head and sincerely it doesn't affect me much and it shouldn't affect you at all. So this is my explanation, if it does make sense. Don't feel bad, it isn't that you are intimidating in a bad manner, it's just I respect you too much to subject you to my silly opinions/movies.

Albeit sometimes movies are just that, entertainment, and they are good all the same.

So! Now my questions😎

1) how can I learn more about movies? Like, theory about it, bc while I watch them I usually prefer to experience them without thinking about them too much a part from obvious things and while the "if I like it it is good" goes well for certain things, I would love to enjoy more the technical aspects of them and more.

2) what do you think about Ozon? I know his last movie will be out soon and albeit I haven't seen anything about it I know you weren't really too happy about it. I have seen Frantz and The double lovers (I hope the title is right) and they fucked me in two different ways (a emotional way and a fucked up one) but I don't really know the difference, from a certain point, from this makes me emotional so it's good and I like it but it really isn't all of that.

3) Which are your favourite directors RN?

4) this is really not a question but I have begun Reflections inside a golden eye and the scene where Liz Taylor whipped her husband... it really lives in my mind rent free, no, I am its sugar daddy and I am paying it for being here. I just want to marry her. And I am not into bdsm at all.

The message is too long and I hope not too much tmi. Thank you for your time and have a wonderful day!

i hear you, and i think you're sweet to say so, plus i respect you for coming back and actually answering the question because most people never do. it's funny because like..... i think i am silly, too, and have "silly" (or i guess....... not serious auteur theory/arthouse) movies i love dearly. i own 21 jump street on dvd. i watch ron howard's the grinch AND all the yugioh movies on a regular basis. i watched the downton abbey movie in a theatre the other month. i have a biiiiiiig poster of in & out 1997 in my room. like you, i contain so many multitudes, but i just don't talk about them as much online for no particular reason. so.... lesbiancolumbos! they're just like you! it's okay to be intimidated (i have people who intimidate me too) but just tell yourself i'm simply a (wo)man and show me your very cool t-shirt.

to be honest, i think a lot of cinephile culture is so stuffy. i would rather be talking about shit like ferris bueller than argue andrew sarris to death.

BUT! to your questions.

i think the book you want to start with is film art: an introduction by david bordwell and kristin thompson. this is like, THE book film school students get their first semester. it's about the aesthetic language of film! go to this google doc and CTRL-F and type in bordwell, and you'll find it in the first section. then type in bazin, and you'll find a couple of links called what is cinema? grab those two. andre bazin......... sigh, so like, i am not a huge bazin fan BUT he is one of the most notable and influential film theorists and i DID get something out of his work, so you should at least take a look. the best way to shape your analytical skills, in my opinion, is to read AND watch a lot. the problem i have with a lot of film students when i was in school a million years ago was that everyone was reading this theory but never actually watching anything, so of course the theory wasn't clicking. i did go to film school but a lot of my taste and approaches to film i consider self-taught because when i graduated school i just. sat and watched turner classic literally all day long, noticed which films and screen presences i liked most, and continued to watch that. finally i picked up on recurring motifs, themes, etc. that doc has a lot of books for you to read and you can always swing by for more recs from me, but it's just like any other skill. you just gotta keep trying to do it until it clicks for you.

ozon..... so i am harsh on him because he's a man and he's made a couple of films i really hated, lmao, but i know most people like him! and i don't fault them for this! i am very aware that this is a "me problem". i just can't not roll my eyes at this man seeing a movie about like, the very specific ways women engage in toxic relationships with other women, and go omg, but what if..... they were men..... like i can't. i will say that i'm happy you had such emotional responses to those films, because that to me means they're worth a second look, and i'm willing to give this man more chances because frantz looks good! and i do still want to see 8 women. so who knows. maybe he will click for me one day... i have famously done 180s on films/filmmakers i used to hate and now love.

i'm not sure if you mean my favorite filmmakers working currently or just in general, so i'll do both. i consider my favorite filmmakers to be elaine may, chantal akerman, agnes varda, john cassavetes, jane campion, lynn shelton, stanley donen, kelly reichardt, billy wilder. aside from kelly and jane, the only two alive filmmakers in this list (sidenote, but i cannot believe it has been two years since lynn died) i think some of the most exciting filmmakers working right now are christian petzold, jeff nichols, asghar farhadi, melanie laurent, barry jenkins, greta gerwig, jennifer kent. i am desperate for another movie from dee rees, kirsten johnson, chinonye chukwu, desiree akhavan, ryan coogler, maren ade, and maria schrader.

putting a pin in your reflections in a golden eye reflection because it is tentatively my pick for summer under the stars on marlon brando's day (there are a couple of to be announced screenings and if they screen the wild one i will switch it 😔) but let's have this discussion after i've watched it in august. :)

have a wonderful day! hope i didn't talk your ear off 💛

#asks #i also wanted to say that.... in recent years i have had to put up some major boundaries. and make myself much more unavailable.#due to some serious overstepping on here. so that might also explain why i come across as more cool and distant than i want.#but my point still stands! i am always here to (respectfully) chat

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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 4 years ago

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The Critique of Manners, Part II

~Or~

A Candid Review of ITV's Emma (1997)

Disclaimer: I do know that both this and the Miramax version were released in 1996, but to avoid confusion, I refer to this one as the “1997 Emma” in reference to the US release date.

The bones of this review were written some six years ago after my initial viewing. I’ve watched it three or four times since then, two very recently (Within the past year). I’d started to soften on it in the most recent watch. So many people love it so much I thought surely maybe I’m just crazy or even wrong; until I found this blog post from 2008 (a year before my favorite version was released) that hit on almost EVERY SINGLE thing that skeeved me out about this version when I first watched it.

Like my previous review of Emma. (2020), I’ll be covering the cast and overall handling of the script in comparison with what I know from reading the book. I will also be commenting on my thoughts about the costumes (Whether they are attractive or accurate, or both, or neither) which will be a bit more in depth than it was for the 2020 version, and this will set a pattern for the costumes section going forward.

Directed by Diarmuid Lawrence with screenwriting by Andrew Davies (Or should I say “Written by Andrew Davies with direction by Diarmuid Lawrence”?), this version was a fan-favorite among Janeites for many years for … well, reasons I’ve never been entirely certain of. I’ve read the book twice through and referenced pertinent passages MANY times besides, and really I don’t see what they’re raving about.

Let’s dive in.

Cast & Characterization

I’d known about this adaptation for a while, but I held off on watching it, largely for one reason: my apprehension about Mark Strong playing Mr. Knightley.

I was concerned because when I watched this I had already seen Mark Strong as Sir John Conroy in The Young Victoria and as Lord Blackwood in Sherlock Holmes, both very unpleasant characters. But there have been several occasions when I expressed displeasure with casting choices only to eat my words when I actually watched the movie. So I entered into watching this with an optimistic outlook, sure that Mark and Kate would surprise me with brilliant performances. And I would like to say that they did, but that would be an untruth.

My biggest fear about Mark Strong playing Mr. Knightley was that his rebuking of Emma was going to be a watered down version of ‘RAAAWWWRRR’ that I was familiar with, specifically because of The Young Victoria. It’s very hard for me to see Mark Strong point his finger in Emily Blunt’s face and shout at her, and then watch him do the same thing with Kate Beckinsale (only somewhat less aggressively) and expect to feel all warm and fuzzy about their romance. I expected that to be a tall order. And it was. Whenever he raises his voice, the right side of his face pulls up into a snarl. Now since it does this no matter what role he’s playing I’m guessing that’s just how his face is. It’s not his fault really and it’s almost certainly unintentional, but I’ve seen that snarl before and it does NOT belong on Mr. Knightley’s face.

Don’t ever think I don’t LOVE Kate Beckinsale, and I don’t necessarily think that my problems with this interpretation of Emma are her fault; these things very rarely fall on the shoulders of the actual actors, but those of the screenwriters and directors who guide them. However – and I am aware that this might sound a bit harsh – I would say that at points, Kate Beckinsale’s performance in this movie (In my opinion) barely outstrips community theatre or even very good high school drama club level acting. It seems to me that there’s burden on her here to sound historical or period. This lends to this interpretation of Emma feeling at once both cold and childish (more on that later.)

Her best moments are when she runs into Jane as Jane is leaving Donwell and when she speaks with Robert Martin at the end of the film. I always like scenes where Emma tacitly apologizes to Mr. Martin, and her feeling when she invites him to Donwell is Kate’s finest moment in this movie.

I found Raymond Coulthard’s Frank Churchill insignificant at first, but on repeat viewings I really started to hate him. I don’t think Austen intended Frank’s caddishness (to use more modern vernacular I’d say he’s an utter “Douche”) to be quite this obvious on first glance. He’s a creep in this version and Raymond Coulthard is just not at all attractive to me, from his big nose to his little shark teeth.

Olivia Williams was a good, even great, Jane Fairfax, and in my opinion does a much better job of portraying Jane’s vexation than, say, Polly Walker did (more on that next time), while still quietly looking like she’d like to arm-bar Frank rather than take his vulgar teasing lying down.

She also has the distinction of being the only Jane Fairfax who’s singing REALLY blows Emma’s out of the water, and I like that all of the songs she sings are in languages other than English (primarily Italian I think?). This achieves the double whammy of showing how much more accomplished she is than Emma by emphasizing that not only does Jane sing and play better, but she knows languages too.

Samantha Morton is a superb actress whom I love and I was sort of appalled at how she looks in this movie. Is she dying of a wasting illness? She looks like a gust of wind will carry her away, although since she looked the same in the 1997 Jane Eyre (In which she played the title role under similarly appalling direction) perhaps that was just her look that year?

Dominic Rowan, as Mr. Elton, is… there’s a perfect word to describe it and I just can’t think of it right now. Like every other young man in this movie (other than Robert Martin) he’s got this feeling of skeeviness to me but it’s more than that. It’s a dweebie-ness as well. This is so dissatisfactory to me because Mr. Elton is supposed to have every appearance of charm and agreeableness, with his only obvious fault being his over-eagerness to ingratiate himself to Emma and some rather vulgar locker-room type talk about marrying for fortune. He’s just so… (I’ve hit upon it now after some discussion with my sister) dingy. He looks less like a “very handsome young man” who “knows the value of a good income” and more like the kind of guy that scrubs up okay, but still you can tell from the rumple of his clothes and the pizzaroni odor wafting from him that he lives in his mom’s basement.

The shining star for me in this production was Alistair Petrie as Robert Martin. I love him as an actor and especially after watching him in Cranford, I think he was an excellent choice for Harriet’s Mr. Martin.

Davies wrote the character to be a little more romantic (Actually buying Anne Radcliffe’s The Romance of the Forest, where originally Mr. Martin was supposed to forget to – something Emma uses as a mark against him to prove how he will age into an “gross vulgar old farmer” who is “obsessed with profit and loss”.)

I especially like an inserted scene where Mr. Martin, working in his field, sees a distressed Jane Fairfax from afar as she is walking home (I think from Donwell). I thought it drew an interesting parallel between two emotionally wronged characters that otherwise would have no interaction.

What’s with Mrs. Elton (Lucy Robinson)? I don’t think nearly enough people question this. I’ve seen it explained away as her being from Bristol and trying to make herself sound more hoity-toity to hide the fact that she’s New Money. I’m not positive on what a Bristol accent sounds like (For that is where Augusta Hawkins is from) but… this sounds like an American trying to sound posh. At some points she almost sounds Texan. It’s all very confusing, because the actress is British.

Prunella Scales lists among her achievements being an outstanding actress and comedienne, as well as bringing into the world Samuel West, one of my all time favourite British screen crushes. She's probably best known for her work on Fawlty Towers, so its interesting to see her range as much less inscrutable Miss Bates. Her performance is by the book, but so much more engaging than Constance Chapman's 1972 offering, although i find her perhaps a shade too placid. She lacks a certain nervousness that I associate with the character (for more information, see my previous review.)

As for Bernard Hepton as Mr. Woodhouse, I can only say I. Didn’t. Like. Him. I have every consciousness of this being a personal bias. I have seen him play too many insufferable characters in too many things to like him as Emma’s lovable if tiresome father. This isn’t a knock on him or his performance; his reaction to Mrs. Elton is some great subtle visual comedy, this is just a me thing.

Another one of the better characterizations, though a relatively small role, is John Knightley. Played by Guy Henry, he is shown to be a good father, and an “Gentleman-like man”, with just the right blend of good humor and caustic comments.

Sets & Surroundings

I’d never paid MUCH attention to or questioned the houses and interiors used for estates in Austen adaptations until the 2020 version of Emma used such ridiculously lavish houses for relatively provincial gentry it forced me to sit up and pay attention. I think the houses used in this version are mostly suitable.

The part of Donwell Abbey’s exterior is played by Sudeley Castle in Gloucestershire. The Key words for Donwell from the text are “rambling and irregular” and while perhaps not as big as the Former Claremont House (Which, it is believed, was Austen’s inspiration for Donwell Abbey) it definitely is a suitable architectural style and situation and furthermore, having been purchased in the 19th century by a glove manufacturer and having been up to that point left in a little bit of a state of disrepair, fits the “neglect of prospect” Austen describes as well. Its interiors are a cobble-work of the Great Hall at Broughton Castle (Oxfordshire), various rooms at Stanway House (Gloucestershire), and the Strawberry beds at Thame Park (Oxfordshire)

(Top, left – Sudeley Castle; Bottom left – Trafalgar Park; Right – Dorney Court)

Trafalgar Park in Wiltshire and its interiors (a minty sage-green drawing-room fitting in perfectly with the mint-chocolate – primarily chocolate – color palette of the production) played the role of the Woodhouse’s home, Hartfield. A typical Georgian style house in red brick, I believe is consistent with Austen’s description of a “well built, modern house”.

Dorney Court in Buckinghamshire was used for Randalls, Mr. Weston’s recently purchased estate. It’s a Tudor style red brick house and it looks pretty on the mark from the front facade, but I think it’s still too big for a “small estate” with only two guest rooms (Although there’s no panic about the snow in this version – perhaps because it’s already snowing when they set out.)

My biggest problem is the lighting of this movie. I understand natural lighting and I LOVE it when you can even it out – but it is so dark in the evening scenes that it adds to the colorlessness of an already colorless production.

Fashion

Oh Jenny Beavan. You are a well-respected costume designer with good reason. However, I know that most of these costumes are rentals, but why is every-fucking-thing in this movie a shade of brown, beige or green?

As you can see, a rich tapestry of brown and beige. And this isn’t selective. this is (just about) every day-wear outfit in the movie (barring repeats and a few exceptions that I’ll give mention to below.)

Emma’s outerwear is brought to you by Hershey’s Chocolate. Also I’m not certain but I think that her light brown redingote is the same one as Elinor’s in the 1995 Sense and Sensibility? If anyone can confirm, drop it in the comments.

Perhaps the evening wear will be more colorful?

Barely – Mrs. Weston in a brownish orange; Mrs. John Knightley in an orange-ish brown; Emma gets a dark blue? Or is that just the wintery glow from the window on a dark green velvet? Green (either so dark it’s almost black, or washed-out mint) appears to be the only color Emma is allowed to wear other than brown or ivory/white. Even her gown for the Crown Inn Ball (upper right) is an underwhelming and rather dingy ivory. The champagne number she wears for Christmas at Randalls is not only lack-lustre, but also sports what I’m now calling a “Bridgerton Bust” (where the Empire waist comes up too high, with the seam apparently resting across her bust rather than under it.)

The pink frock (seen properly only from the back) on Mrs. Weston is as close to real color as a main character gets in this production, and can be recognized as one of Jane Bennet’s dresses from the previous year’s Pride and Prejudice.

Even Jane Fairfax doesn’t get a break. Rather than putting her in Jane Fairfax Blue ™ (honestly, Jane Fairfax being costumed in blue is so consistent at this point Crayola should just name a crayon in her honor - this is gonna come back in future reviews) she gets a black-green evening number with no trim at all, and a succession of what the Ladies over at Frock Flicks like to call the “Dumpy Regency Little White Dress”, or drab gray-blues.

Some of the background dancers in the Crown Inn Ball scene get to wear pink! Why not put Harriet in a nice pink frock for this scene?! Why is this so difficult?!

Strawberry picking at Donwell is the only time main characters are consistently wearing identifiable colors that aren’t brown or green: Mrs. Weston in pink, Miss Bates in (oddly the most colorful dress of them all) a nice refreshing lavender blue; Jane gets grey/blue and Mrs. Elton, a pastel mint. Harriet is also given a little break in Mrs. Elton’s introduction scene in a (very) pastel blue frock, while Emma sports white (with a trademark green shawl.)

So how about the...

Similarly dull. I almost screamed for joy when I saw that Frank’s jacket was actually blue, and a vibrant blue at that. (The red is too close to brown, I’m sorry.)

So yes, in short the costumes, while perfectly technically accurate (I didn’t get a lot of caps of them but the trousers sufficiently tight, not that I care to look), are drab as a peahen.

As always I’ll outsource any dancing critique by linking Tea With Cassiane on YouTube, since I find her insights on the approach to dancing in Austen adaptations just fascinating and I would like to share such witty and informed reviews.

The Andrew Davies of it All…

*Strong Opinions Ahead*

There are so many reasons why this adaptation isn’t for me. First of all the very idea of making Emma, one of Austen’s most socially complex works (certainly her most vivid) into a sparse 107 minutes is baffling to me. Perhaps I can understand if it’s a Theatrical release but this is a TV production. Why not at least make it a two part special?

And besides the issue that, in order to make this fit the time frame, the story is severely truncated, there’s… the Andrew Davies of it all.

I have some issues with Andrew Davies’ screenwriting for this adaptation particularly. A LOT of issues. Where does one start? I think Knightley is a good place.

It’s not just the casting I don’t like here; but it does say something to me that they chose Mark Strong for this role. It’s a casting decision I discovered with disbelief when I first saw clips from this version in a Period Drama men compilation video on YouTube. I mentioned above that I know Mark Strong as unpleasant characters with man-handling habits. That’s the kind of role Mark Strong is associated with because that’s just what he does well. And I think this played into the casting here, because Davies’ interpretation of Knightley is a bit… fierce. He shouts SO MUCH in this movie and in scenes like the Harriet Smith debacle (where Mr. Knightley of the book even gets a bit angry with Emma) I can understand this, perhaps. But in the book Mr. Knightley takes many pauses to collect and calm himself, because his goal is not to quarrel with Emma but to argue a point. 97 Knightley takes no such pauses and spends the whole scene in what some might call an escalating rage.

Knightley’s cheerful arrival to Hartfield to tell Emma that Robert Martin intended to propose to Harriet is cut out so we start right off with his indignant exclamation of “She refused him?!” and it’s all go from there. To make matters worse, Emma’s own arguments are crippled by Davies’ editing. Many of her more (what might even latterly be considered “feminist”) arguments are cut out. In fact once Knightley gets going, he juggernauts his way through all of his rebukes and speeches from the book, but Emma hardly gets a word in edgewise after arguing that Robert Martin is not Harriet’s equal. What Austen wrote as a heated debate is turned by Davies into a one-sided tirade. (By don’t take my word for it, watch the clip.)

The final cherry on top is having Emma, after Knightley leaves the room with the last word firmly in his grasp, childishly pout “You are wrong Mr. Knightley, and you will see you are wrong and then you will be sorry.” I half expected her to cross her arms and stomp her foot. Worth noting is the fact that Davies adds an additional “It was badly done. Emma,” in this scene where there was none in the book. Rather overkill to my mind. Is this his catchphrase?

At Box Hill, Davies has Knightley begin his climactic rebuke of Emma’s insulting behavior by grabbing her arm and hauling her aside, and concludes by leading her, still holding her arm, to the carriage. Well at least he doesn’t shout at her in this scene; but again, all but one of Emma’s responses are cut out and she stands there, pouting until Mr. Knightley leaves and then she bursts into tears.

When Mr. Knightly proposes to Emma I was feeling good about this scene, until he dropped the “I held you when you were three weeks old” line, and I immediately felt uncomfortable. Maybe you DON’T want mention how you held her when she was a baby after you asked her to MARRY you. But perhaps worse is Emma’s response to the line: “Do you like me as well now as you did then?”

Bringing up holding Emma when she was three weeks old at the proposal (A line which was not in the book) is bad enough but there seems to be a peculiar repeated emphasis on Knightley recalling Emma as a baby. He dragged it up previously when he and Emma make up after the Harriet debacle, as he holds John and Isabella’s baby daughter (whose name, I would mention, is Emma.) In this instance too, the line is a Davies addition.

Let’s talk about Knightley’s strawberry line.

This is delivered in voice-over as a transition to the strawberry picking party at Donwell, and is portrayed as a formal invitation: “Mr. Knightley invites you to taste his strawberries, which are ripening fast.”

At first I was confident that I was reading too much into this (but I think at this point I can safely say that I’m not). I can’t help bursting out laughing every time I hear that line. It was a questionable way to word that if you ask me, especially considering that this is (once again) NOT the line in the book, and it was NOT a formal invitation. It was said to Mrs. Elton and intended to be a joke.

“You had better explore Donwell then,” replied Mr. Knightly “That may be done without horses. Come and eat the strawberries; they’re ripening fast.”

‘ If Mr. Knightly did not begin seriously, he was obliged to proceed so...’

And here I thought Janeites hated adaptations that cut out “Miss Austen’s biting wit.”

To top it all off, we have Frank Churchill (Who I have already pointed out is a bit of a creep in this adaptation and even more detestable than he already was as Austen wrote him) praising Jane: this would be fine, if he wasn’t drooling into Emma’s ear about the turn of Jane’s throat, (He actually utters this line)

and how fine his dead aunt’s jewels will look against her skin. May I just be the first to say “Ehewhegaugh”.

I juxtapose this with the book where Frank's lines are almost exactly as Davies renders them, except Jane Austen never wrote the "have you ever seen such a skin?" Line. The difference i have highlighted in bold:

"... She is a complete angel. Look at her. Is she not an angel in every gesture? Observe the turn of her throat. Observe her eyes as she looks up at my father. --- You will be glad to hear that my uncle intends to give her all my aunt's jewels. They are to be new set. I am resolved to have some in an ornament for the head. Will it not be beautiful in her dark hair?"

Because talking about how pretty your fiancee's hair is, is normal and marginally less creepy than talking about what a fine skin she has or how lovely your (i cannot stress this part enough) dead aunt's jewels will look against it. Davies' script also makes no mention of having them reset, which makes me think he’s talking about the actual necklaces and bracelets Mrs. Churchill would have worn.

But hey, maybe its just a me thing.

Harriet Smith’s story suffers, primarily, I can with some candor admit, due to the time constraints. After Mr. Elton is married, we never see Harriet in any distress. It’s almost as though she’s forgotten all about it! Emma never has to appeal to her to exert herself or to move on. Perhaps this is better than Doran Godwin’s Emma gaslighting Harriet and manipulating her by constantly chastising her for… well general heartbreak (but that’s a bugaboo for a different review.)

My last complaint of note is that ludicrous harvest feast at the end of the movie. The whole concept of this scene just does not seem at all Janely to me. I was under the impression that I was meant to be watching an Austen. Not some bullshit Thomas Hardy knock-off. This is another Davies touch and I hate it more on the principal that it is one of his numerous, obsessive tweaks made solely to point out the existence of the lower classes.

If Davies wanted to show Mr. Knightley’s being an attentive landlord and gentleman farmer then I don’t see why he couldn’t just show Knightley actually running his farm?

“Okay’, you might say, “but I think the highlighting of the servants is to show how good Knightley is by treating them like real people compared to everyone else”, and I hear you. And in the situations where that is the case, like him greeting the Woodhouse’s butler and asking after his family I think that’s totally fine and in character. But things like the servants moving the knee cushions every time someone moves down the line at strawberry picking, to me, is AS ridiculous as the “servants clipping the lawn on their hands and knees with tiny scissors” trope. Like we get it, people took the lower classes for granted, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that it would be easier and more realistic to have Mrs. Elton have to move her own knee cushion. I don’t think Knightley would instruct his servants, who he treats so well, to do that kind of thing, but you could write in Mrs. Elton’s expectation of it if you wanted. It seems like the kind of thing she would expect the landed gentry to do.

Screenwriter for some of the best loved Austen’s (including the sacrosanct 1995 P&P Mini-series and my favorite Sense & Sensibility), I thought of Davies for years as untouchable; until Sanditon happened and left everyone who knows anything about Jane Austen really wondering where this mess came from. I put it to you now that it was there in Davies all along.

Davies admitted, when talking about the drastic “Sexing Up” he did in Sanditon that he felt Austen’s works could have done with a bit more sex appeal. I can hardly disagree and additions like Darcy’s little swim in the pond and Edward Ferrars’ angsty wood-chopping are welcome and beloved. But it seems that what he really wanted all along was what he gave us in Sanditon; and finally, without actual source material to stand in his way, he had a chance let his dirty old man show and gave “Austen” the sexing up he thought it needed.

And it gets more troubling as you look back.

In my opening paragraph to this review I mentioned a 2008 blog post that not only agreed with me that there’s something very off about this screenplay, but gave me some possible insights as to why. It points out numerous things that I have always questioned in this version but have never seen anyone else criticize (though I am informed that more recently it has gained its’ share of critics). In fact the post itself actually points out that almost no one in the Austen Blog-sphere had (at that point) criticized this version’s faults in any meaningful way, but my favorite thing about it is that it points out what you find in Davies’ screenplay if you pay careful attention to it “Rather than sitting there and cataloguing what is “technically faithful and whatnot”.

Many Austen bloggers have kind of been playing Miss Taylor to Davies’ Emma for some two decades and change.

The most troubling thing of all is Davies own comments on Mr. Knightley (and other things, more inferred in his screen play). All of the aspects of this interpretation of Knightley that I mentioned earlier seem to stem from the fact that, as quoted in Sarah Caldwell’s book on his works, Davies thinks there’s “Something odd going on with Knightley.”

Davies clearly reads foul, or at least questionable, intentions in Mr. Knightley but I find it interesting that, rather than cutting out material he may have found troubling about Knightley in the book out of his screenplay, he doubled down by adding MORE troubling lines and situations (that were never in the book at all, and imagined solely by himself) in a romantic story with a happy ending.

Perhaps there’s not so much something odd going on with Knightley, Mr. Davies, but with you.

Final Thoughts

At this point I might ask what it is that everyone sees in this version that makes them think it’s so perfect, but that would be a bit pointless since all I’ve read since I discovered this version is people on elaborating on just that and I don’t care to hear much more.

“The lines are verbatim!” textually, perhaps, but it’s the ones that added that trouble me.

“The leads have so much chemistry!” I’m glad you think so, but I can’t find it.

“The costumes are damn near perfect!” And brown. So, so very brown.

As a 90's TV period drama, this version is pretty standard. It sticks to the book (except in those places where the screenwriter saw fit to dabble with some subtle but troubling suggestions about the characters.) And if it floats your boat, as always I'm glad it gives you what you want from the story.

I know I hold unpopular opinions on Jane Austen adaptations, and perhaps this is one of them, but every time I watch this version I feel the need to read the book as a cleanse. Perhaps Davies’s ferocious Knightley was simply a pendulum swing reaction to Douglas McGrath’s almost too laid back interpretation in the Miramax film from earlier in 1996, but even if that’s the case it’s just uncalled for and is my biggest turn off for this film.

Tone: 3

Ribbon Rating: Badly Done! (40 Ribbons)

Casting: 5

Acting: 6

Scripting: 4

Pacing: 2

Cinematography: 4

Setting: 3

Costumes: 5

Music: 2

Book Accuracy: 6

#jane austen #jane austen emma #costume drama #regency #period drama #emma 1996

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skunked-up-kicks · 4 years ago

Note

I’ve noticed you ship Neil with a lot of people, not just Andrew. I’m also someone who when I’m obsessed with a character I tend to imagine a lot of different potential dynamics in different au’s and multi-ship even when I love the canon romance, so when I see someone else do that I’m always really interested by how they think about it. Could you list all the pairings you like involving Neil and like why/how you enjoy them, can even be by degree (if you want I get if it’s a weird ask lol)

i adore you for sending this anon, fair warning: this is likely gonna be long! i would also like to clarify: NEIL IS DEMISEXUAL❗❗i think he would need to develop a very strong relationship with these people before becoming interested.

neil/andrew: this ones obvious- the mutual understanding? the respect? the communication? the trust? the honesty? both being weirdos? the keys? love that shit. they are without a doubt my all time favourite couple and likely always will be. not to go on forever about these two.. but seriously, one major factor is just how.. accepting of the other they are. especially neil towards andrew who is very misunderstood and judged by many of the other characters consistently. they are the picture of unconditional love to me. that and also the fact that they are very unconventional all just makes me so happy. 🧡 (i would like to add: also, in love with the concept of queerplatonic andreil. and raven!neil x andrew is FUCKING SUPREME)

neil/robin: she's neil's best friend and nora said they do absolutely everything together, attached at the hip. she said the bond between them is unbreakable. and honestly? i see some similarities between crossten and andreil in those aspects. neil sticks up for her when the other foxes bully her. wymack says he is a worse influence on her than andrew ever was lmao. unlike andrew, i think robin would be more open to pda, i still don't think they would kiss in front of people cuz thats just my personal taste but i think they hug A LOT. and i think robin after games will often run and jump into neil's arms 🥺 they are my second favourite ship and i honestly imagine neil dating both robin and andrew at the same time. i've spent way too much time thinking about a poly relationship between the 3 of them.

neil/dan/matt: admittedly i like the neil/dan side of things more than the neil/matt side but i still think they would make a good couple. dan and matt seem to care very deeply for neil (and for each other, and he feels the same way about them) they are so supportive and i think they could really bring out a lot in him.

stay with me on this one okay, neil/seth: ok, i read the ec about how seth and neil used to be close and how seth wears neil's original jersey number and my heart just,, ugh it hurt ok. i've read a few fics where they are friends and i've just fallen in love with their dynamic. i think they have the potential to rlly help each other develop.

neil/allison: you know how everyone talks about the potential of allison and andrew being good friends? because they are so similar?? that's why i love neil and allison together, cuz those ppl arent too far off the mark. further more, neil and allison friendship fics are SO popular. she will literally kiss him, link arms, sit on his lap- i mean omg. they are so close in these fics to dating so i often just imagine they are. neil seems to have so much respect for her in canon and i think that's something ppl dont often give her and i love that about them. there's this one neil/andrew/allison fic that i read which was amazing so i ship that too.

neil/jean: this is much more limited to raven!neil aus where their dynamic is much more interesting and more explored. the fact they would be partners and grow up together... it just... i love it. the fic that really sold me on them is Black As Is The Raven, He'll Get A Partner. (sorry if i remembered that incorrectly) spoiler alert: they don't get together, it's an andreil fic BUT their relationship in it is so fleshed out and its beautiful. canon jean and canon neil i'm much less interested in tbh.

further on from that: in the same fic, theres these ocs called meg and marley and I LOVE THEM. they get recruited to the ravens and are harassed by many of them so neil makes a deal with riko so he (and jean) can be the ones to train them so the others leave them alone. and the dynamic between the entire group, meg, marley, jean and neil is amazing. i ship all of them together i'm ngl.

those are all the ones i can think of rn. just an extra note: any ship that doesn't involve andrew its guaranteed that i imagine neil dating andrew at the same time as he is dating the ppl in the ship.

#i have SO MANY thoughts about neil/robin/andrew #my head is full of them.#also. anon. my beloved. thank you so much for this ask! i wanna hear about what u ship!!! im glad im not the only one who acts like this #andreil is still superior ofc 😌😌 which is why neil MUST be with andrew no matter the context for me #aftg #ask #mine #i actually have more neil x ppl ships oop-#i like him with jack too 😳😳🥴 enemies to rivals to lovers who?#and if im being perfectly honest i kinda like him with nicky too.. my only issue is that i dont want neil dating nicky and andrew at the #same time. cuz thats a bit off for me #uhm.. neil x marrisa too....#thou ive thought less about them. i dont think it would be a permanent thing... idk?#occasionally. neil x ichirou will pop into my head.. they could rule the mf mafia together bitch.#some fics make them good friends and im like 👀#if anyone else ships any of these uuh lemme know so im not alone :')

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91percentpynch · 4 years ago

Text

lonely heart - kevaaron au pt 4

oh look it‘s me, coming out of my dark hole to make you suffer with a super sad chapter with a nasty cliffhanger:) so get your tissues ready and enjoy!! okay first of all sorry that i didn‘t update this in a g e s and that it‘s rather short and for the cliffhanger, but i‘ll try to update it more regularly now:)

check this out for the other parts:)

trigger warnings: drug abuse, mention of suicide, mention of mental health issues, very sad aaron, mention of blood

“You were too good for me”, Aaron whispered into the void. “You were way too fucking good for me. You made me a better man. And I fucked up”

Aaron got up as he felt the tears burning in his eyes. He knew he wouldn‘t be able to sleep alone tonight. Like every single goddamn night since he left Kevin. Like every single goddamn night since he made the biggest mistake of his life.

„Taylor?“, the blonde haired boy murmered, „You up?“

„Babe, you know I‘m up. My girlfriend lives three states away, we talk every single day at the same time as you call your man. Not that I would be able to sleep when you call him, cause a) i love Day and b) you‘re always sad and high and end up in my room anygays, so did he take the phone darling?“

Taylor was Aaron‘s roommate and the closest thing he had to a best friend. She had been there for him every single day, cuddled him, held him while he cried and dried his tears afterwards. And Aaron did the same when she misssed her girlfriend too much.

„You do realize he is not my man anymore, I fucked that up. Big time. He did actually take the phone just to tell me to fuck off and stop calling“

„You could always go over there and say it in his pretty face. Didn’t say you can’t come over did he?Pro point: Might lead to making out“, Taylor said while taking him in her arms. „Plus another pro point: you‘d get sober again. And you‘re less moody. No offense but a Kevin-less Aaron is hardly managable, like you‘re either a whiny little bitch or you‘ll give me the death glare of the cenutry. Legit worse than Andrew‘s and I called him a cute little baby boo once when I was drunk and he almost stabbed me right there with a look on his face like I just murdered Neil in front of him“

„Tay, I take that as a compliment. And we both know Kevin’s a bit of a dumbass so he did not exactly tell me Not To Come over just stopp calling. Anyways I don‘t even know where he lives. And stop talking about me getting high, you do the same shit“

„Yeah but I know my limits and I have not the same history as you. And for the i DoN‘t EvEn KnOwS wHeRe He LiVeS, phone number. Now“

„O- okay“, Aaron said and told her Kevin‘s phone number while Taylor calmingly stroked his back.

„Neat, got him“, Taylor said after a while. „He‘s with the scary big dude and his adorable little boyfriend I think? I have their address right here, I think we‘re gonna visit them tomorrow cause it‘s like 4 am right now and we don‘t wanna rob him his beauty sleep plus we don‘t want to wake the scary big dude. And I‘m pretty sure the adorable small golden retriver boy could and would stab us“

„Did you just stalk my ex and located his phone at 4 am like fucking Garcias in Criminal Minds?“, Aaron said confused.

„Anything for you big guy. And as I said I miss Day‘s pretty face, preferably in your pretty face so you shut the fuck up about how stressed and depressed and lonely you are.“, Taylor chuckled as Aaron looked at her shocked.

„Well I miss Casey, preferable in your face so YOU shut up“, Aaron was never as good in witty remarks as his brother. Especially high Aaron.

„Babe I think it‘s time for you to go to bed, you‘re not fun when you‘re sad, high and tired. Come here, let me cuddle you, while you whiney little bitch sleep“

Aaron slowly went over to Taylor and into her loving arms, laying down, trying to fall asleep.

After a long while aaron drifted into sleep, just to be greeted by familiar smaragd eyes. In his dream Kevin and he never broke up. Kevin was on top of him, his hands gently discovered Aaron‘s body, touching him as if he was sacred, something to worship. Kevin‘s lips were at Aaron‘s ear whispering sweet nothingness. Aaron‘s hips moved against Kevin‘s loving touch. „Stress release“ Kevin called these holy moments in dawn. „Highlight of my day“ Aaron called them.

The dream was as beautiful as it was cruel. It was as if his body, his mind were as much refusing as able to believe that Kevin was gone. It was his own fault, Aaron knew it. But the ever present voice of his mother, disapproving and disgusting, in his head was just too much for him to handle. He thought - foolish as Aaron was - that the pain of living without Kevin would be better, less cruel, less painful. But he never knew real love and therefore never experienced its lost. Until that faitful day. Until Kevin took his bags and left.

Aaron was used to pain. The hot one after an extraordinarily vicious hit. The cold one when his mother died. The numbing one when the hunger was growing more and more unbareable. But nothing was even slightly as hard to handle as the loss of Kevin in his life.

Kevin was the first good thing Aaron had. He gave him a will to stay, to try, to give this stupid sport everything he got. And Exy turned into more mundane things like getting his eating routine under control or getting a more or less acceptable sleeping schedule. The dark days were still there, for both of them, and they would probably never leave them completely alone, but they got less. And when they did happen they would hold each other together.

Ever since he fucked up things with Kevin, Aaron had more and more dark days. The voice of his mother telling him he‘s a failure, the bored stare of his brother and Aaron convincing himself Andrew wouldn‘t even bet an eye if he died, the voice telling him the world would be a better place without him growing louder and lourder every passing day.

Logically he could say that the death of a single person wouldn‘t change much for the over all world population, expect maybe it‘s some kind of insane mademan dicator or someone important, but still. It made sense. All he did after all was fucking up, being a failure, never good enough, never perfect.

His lonely heart only screamed Kevin‘s name and he knew if Kevin didn‘t take him back, his life wouldn‘t make much sense anymore. Well he would definetly not tell Kevin that. He would not manipulate Kevin into loving him, because that wouldn‘t be much better than not having him at all.

Aaron woke up the next day around noon. He didn‘t really feel like getting up, like getting up was simply too much. But Aaron knew he had to. He didn‘t want to worry Taylor more than he already did. And it would end today. One way or the other.

So he got up, put on the first pair of black jeans he could find and the first sweater his hands could find. Ironically it was one of the sweaters Kevin gave him, on the third of december last year. It was one of Aaron‘s favourites as well.

„Ready for the big Day, small guy?“, Taylor said winking at him.

„Not really? What the fuck am I supposed to do there anyways?“, Aaron replied on his way to the coffee maker.

„Talk to him? Deliver one of those borderline cringe big speeches. Get im flowers. Break into his bedroom and say ‚Draw me like one of your french girls‘, naked of course“, Taylor laughed at the face Aaron made, listening to her suggestions.

„I think I like the big speech. I mean I‘m shit with words, but I‘m sure you want to help your boy getting ‚his man‘ back, right? Also what kind of flowers would you give someone you dumped cause the voice of your dead mother told you it was wrong and disgusting, which you never told him for obvious reasons?“

„Honey, you‘re so fucked up sometimes, I love you but you should go to a therapist or something. Also I‘d say sunflowers or roses? I don‘t speak flowers man, I‘m the tech nerd. Not the romantic one, the nerd. But we‘re gonna make a snazzy speech and you‘re gonna get your man back“

After their typical breakfast - if Aaron didn‘t forget to eat again - they sat down together on the living room floor, paper and pen ready, trying to write the world changing speech.

„Why is this so fucking hard? Why can I only tell him how much I love and miss him when I‘m high off my ass“, Aaron complained.

„What about you don‘t think about him that much. Just tell me what you love about him and then we write that down?“, Taylor suggested.

Aaron took a deep breathe and closed his eyes. „I loved him because he was the first one who saw me. Aaron Minyard. And not just the other Minyard, the lesser twin, the shadow of Andrew. He looked at me and somehow chose me. Even if he could have had everyone else. He chose me, even though I‘m not special. Kevin chose the failure when he could have had the first prize. He looked at me and saw something worth loving, worth keeping around. Hardly anyone could tell Andrew and me apart. But it took him less than a day to do so. Kevin is strong, so so strong and somehow chose the most fragile thing he could find, took it and made it worth soemthing. Kevin made me feel something. Not numbness. Not pain. Something warm and beautiful and living. He gave me a reason to stay alive. Kevin made my life bearable, he made my life beautiful. We were both broken and we would probably still be broken if we were together but we softened each other‘s edges. Kevin believed in me when no one else would. He knew how I felt, knew what I needed and when I needed it. Kev gave me love and safety and I kicked it with my feet. This man is like a god who fell for whatever reasons for a homeless man. And I know I don‘t deserve him but I also know I cannot live without him. And I know that I must tell him that before it‘s too late. If it‘s not too late already“

Taylor wipped a tear out of her eyes. „That‘s it. You tell him that and we‘ll get him back“, she said. „Can I hug you?“

„Sure you loser“

„Ah there is my boy“

They spent the rest of the afternoon writing down the speech, making edits here and there. In the end Aaron collected the pages and went to his room to change. He replaced Kevin‘s sweater with a simple black jumper, put on his Docs, got his keys and left.

Aaro did feel a little uncomfortable, stalking Kevin like that. But he knew this was his chance to fix things. This was his chance to get Kevin back, to make his life worth living again. Which to be fair was a bit selfish, but you are allowed to be a little selfish sometimes, aren‘t you?

Jean and Jeremy‘s apartment complex was a 15 minute drive away from the flat Aaron shared with his three roommates. Theirs was fanzier, obviously. After all Jeremy was a professional Exy player and Jean was some kind of semi famous artist or fashion maker or whatever. They could give Kevin the world. They could give him what he desereved. All Aaron had to offer was an apology and his love. No money. Not yet anyway. Just anxiety, depression and stress.

But if Kevin was willing to take his love, to give Aaron one more chance, he promised himself Aaron would make it count. He will tell Kevin how much he loves Kevin every single god damn day. Aaron will get therapy and work on his issues. Sober up and this time for good. He will do anything to be worth of god‘s love. Just that god in his case was a twenty two year old boy with black hair, forming soft waves at the end and a smile that will make the sun jealous. Eyes made out of smaragd. Lips so sinful and kissable.

Aaron sat down in front of the door, waiting for his courage to come back to him. He could do this. He would get his man back.

Hours passed, or maybe it were only minutes or seconds after all before someone came closer. Ever so slowly Aaron lifted his head, just to look in the ever so familiar green eyes, big with shock.

„You said to stop calling. You never mentioned face to face conversations“, Aaron said, his voice hoarse.

Kevin stared at him as if he was a ghost, a reminder of his past life, something he rather wanted to forget.

„Look I know I fucked up. I know I‘m not good enough for you. I know you deserve the world and I cannot give it to you. And when you look me in the eyes and tell me you don‘t feel anything for me anymore, no love or hate or affection or whatever humans feel, I will turn away right now and go and never come back. Never bother you again. But if you allow me to apologize, if you however decide to gieve me one last chance, I prepared this whole ass speech for you“

Aaron was sure they could hear his heart beating against his chest, roaring, screaming to return home. To return to Kevin where it belonged.

Kevin‘s eyes wandered to the floor, his fingers automatically closed around his left wrist. A nervous habit. Just another little part that makes Aaron‘s heart ache.

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he lifted those unbelieveable beautiful eyes and met Aaron‘s golden ones. Kevin studied him and the world around them stopped.

Out of the corner of Aaron‘s eyes he could see Jean going still, his breathing too calm, too even. It‘s the same thing Andrew does when someone fucks with Josten. At least his death would be fast. Or slow. Whatever. Aaron didn‘t really care, without Kevin it wasn‘t worth anygthing anyway.

„Why“, Kevin said after what feels like forever, „Why would I forgive you? Why would I give you another chance? Why would you think you can come back here just to fuck me over again? Aaron I loved you, I really did. I always will. You were my first love and maybe, yeah maybe, my last one. But right now I can‘t. I just, I just can‘t. Please leave. Please leave me alone. For now. Maybe, one day we can talk about it. But right now I cannot handle the thought of you to leave me. To tell me all these beautiful lies, to cut me open and leave me to bleed out. I love you“, tears were running down Kevin‘s cheek. Tears Aaron one day, a long time ago, promised himself he would never let Kevin feel again. Pain. Sadness. Everything because of his failure, because of his weakness, because he‘s a fucking piece of shit.

„Thank you for giving me a reason to stay. Jusst remember that you were my light, my warmth, my happiness and I never stopped loving you. Never will. Please just be happy“, Aaron replied as he turned around to walk to his cars.

When he was sure he was out of ear shot, he let himself feel. Feel the pain. Feel the loneliness. Feel the numbness and the cold and the hatred. It was in that moment, that moment where he was alone and nothing more to lose, that he decided that it was enough. He would end it. End it tonight.

„Thank you“, he texted Taylor. „I‘m glad I didn‘t eat you in the womb“, he texted Andrew. „You were not so bad after all“, he sent to Neil. And lastly „Thank you for taking me under your wing“, to Nicky. They would understand. It would take them some time but in the end they would feel better. They would be happier without them. Because at the end of the day he caused them pain and wasn‘t really worth a thing.

So when he got in his car, tears running uncontrallably down his cheeks, he knew what he had to do.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #kevin day #aaron minyard #ship: kevaaron #kevaaron

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peachcitt · 4 years ago

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Hi! You've mentioned on Discord that you read a lot of books, and I was wondering if you could rec some? Either your favourites, or ones that had a big impact on you/your writing 🥺

yes!!! all my favorite books generally affect my writing style, and often after ive finished reading a really good book, i'll write something and end up emulating that book's style (either on accident or on purpose haha). sometimes on my ao3 you'll find in my author's notes me saying what book i just finished, and if you read or know those books, you'll probably see me mimicking certain aspects of style

for other reccommendations/more in depth descriptions of book plots, i also have a reading list that i posted this past winter on my writing blog that you can check out, and im planning on posting another one at the end of the summer!! (in fact ive already started the list lmao)

the list will be structured as follows: book or series name, author, and a couple reasons why i like it. in addition to this, i will put stars by author's names if i have read other books by them and greatly enjoyed them.

without further ado:

The Grishaverse by Leigh Bardugo*

this has got to be my favorite series of all time. i love bardugo's capability to write complex characters and complicated plots, and i really like the way she structures her books. the series is just so artfully done and when i finished it i was so perfectly satisfied and so perfectly sad because i mourned the fact that it was over

I am the Messenger by Markus Zusak*

literally my favorite book. this is the book i tell people is my favorite if anyone asks. i love zusak's casual humor alongside his ability to write such heartbreaking and heavy moments in just little scraps of images. it's a romantic book without being about romance - it's about love and kindness and how powerful those things can be be, and that shit gets me every time. i have reread this book so many times - yearly since i got it, i think, and i got in middle school, i think. im in college now. and every time i reread it, i get something different out of it

The Chaos Walking Trilogy by Patrick Ness*

i think about these books constantly. these were the first books i read by patrick ness, and, now that ive read some of his other books, i know in classic patrick ness fashion, these books haunt me. patrick ness has this uncanny ability to take genres you think you know and twist and warp them until you're on the edge of your seat trying to figure out what will happen next without the safety net of genre supporting the story. in addition to that, his characters are always wonderfully flawed - he puts real people into fantastical situations, and it's fascinating and always an emotional and satisfying read

The Alex Crow by Andrew Smith*

dude i think about the alex crow so much. i said i normally call i am in the messenger my favorite book, but every so often i'll say this one is because i just love it so much. the alex crow is just so bafflingly weird but the teenage boy main characters are so real and gross and hilarious. andrew smith has the amazing knack for writing weird as hell plot lines and telling stories that are about everything, all at once, while still making it about one thing. that doesn't make sense, but if you read the alex crow (or his other book i've read called Grasshopper Jungle that is actually on my summer list) then you will know what i mean. the alex crow is so many things, and i love all of them

I'll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson*

i used to read a lot of ya romance and, to be honest, the stuff i used to read was not all great, but this book absolutely changed the game and probably made me raise my standards exponentially. the timeline of this book is so creative, and it's done in such a way that it leaves you wondering how the timelines will reconcile. in addition to this, both romances in the book are so interesting and loveable, and the relationship between the two main characters (who are twins) is an amazing thing to see unfold. this is a peak ya romance book, and i can't recommend it enough

Holding Up the Universe by Jennifer Niven*

another ya romance, and i have to say the romance in this book is so beautifully done. generally, this is just a really sweet book that gave me butterflies, to be quite honest. i think niven has a really good knack for writing characters that are diverse and a little strange but all have their own distinct personalities that mingle really interestingly with each other.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe By Benjamin Alire Sáenz

this one is an obvious choice, and for good reason. aristotle and dante is just a classic queer novel, and it's earned its place as such. it's a poetic sort of book, and i love the voices of the characters, as well as the pictures of the world we get through ari's voice. this is a visual book written in text - i think a lot about the steady, careful romance of the book and the way sáenz makes ari an unreliable narrator by artfully excluding his feelings from scene descriptions and dialogue tags. it's such a creative and heartbreaking technique that i often find myself wanting to do

The Leviathan Trilogy by Scott Westerfeld

oooohh this trilogy changed me. for starters its such a weird, creative concept - alternate history steampunk and biopunk world war I. like doesn't that sound so interesting?? and this trilogy's main characters are so easy to love - and watching their relationship unfold and develop is so endearing. also, my copies include these wonderful illustrations (which i think might be in all copies?) that really let you put images to the weird fantastical things westerfeld included into the world.

The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton

this book was actually on my winter book list, and i read it so fast and so obsessively because i wanted so badly to know what was going to happen. the plot absolutely pulled me in, and the first line - "I forgot everything between footsteps" - stuck with me because just look at the way that's written!! it's so artful and intriguing, i was just dying to know what would happen next. the timeline is this amazing maze that as i read i couldn't help but admire how long or how much turton had to plan in order to make everything line up in just the right way. it was a fascinating book with so much to say - im really looking forward to reading it again

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

this book was also on my winter book list, and it just absolutely enraptured me. its witty, quiet sort of voice was amazing to read, and the imagery instilled into every scene made it seem like everything was so real, just right there for me to touch or smell or taste. the plot of a secret huge magic library really roped me in, and i think this is a love story for people who read, people who love stories, people who love the magic of a library.

Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero*

cantero's works are just so creatively written - not just by plot or character standards, but by style standards, too. meddling kids is great not just for its complex, loveable characters or for its fantastical, dark, and mysterious plot, but also for the weird and intriguing liberties cantero makes with style. in his other books, too, is the switch between snarkily written prose to stage directions to video or audio transcripts, and it makes for such a visual sort of book - i mean, i could easily see any of cantero's books being made into a film or series because all the material is right there. cantero's creativity with style is so intriguing to me, and because of him, i've become more familiar with playing around in style in an attempt to create something as interesting as his novels

and that's all i'll put down here now!

i mentioned it a little, but probably my biggest style references are leigh bardugo, markus zusak, edgar cantero, and andrew smith for various reasons that i am more than willing to talk more in depth about if anyone is wondering<3

thank you for asking im always willing to talk books :')

#ask #miabrown007 #book rec list #book recs #long post #I ALWAYS TALK SO MUCH WHEN IT COMES TO BOOKS IM SO SORRY #someone: what are you favorite books? / me (vibrating at the speed of sound):#anyway if anyone is truly curious about my style references just send me an ask and i will answer!

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thewatsonbeekeepers · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4 – It is always 1895 [TAB 1/1]

TAB is my favourite episode of Sherlock. It is a masterpiece that investigates queerness, the canon and the psyche all within an hour and a half. Huge amounts of work has been done on this episode, however, so I’m not going to do a line by line breakdown – that could fill a small book. A great starting point for understanding the myriad of references in TAB is Rebekah’s three part video series on the episode, of which the first instalment can be found here X. I broadly agree with this analysis; what I’m going to do here, though, is place that analysis within the framework of EMP theory. As a result, as much as it pains me, this chapter won’t give a breakdown of carnation wallpaper or glass houses or any of those quietly woven references – we’re simply going in to how it plays into EMP theory.

Before digging into the episode, I want to take a brief diversion to talk about one of my favourite films, Mulholland Drive (2001).

If you haven’t seen Mulholland Drive, I really recommend it – it’s often cited as the best film of the last 20 years, and watching it really helps to see where TAB came from and the genre it’s operating in. David Lynch is one of the only directors to do the dream-exploration-of-the-psyche well, and I maintain that a lot of the fuckiness in the fourth series draws on Lynch. However, what I actually want to point out about Mulholland Drive is the structure of it, because I think it will help us understand TAB a little better. [If you don’t want spoilers for Mulholland Drive, skip the next paragraph.]

The similarities between these two are pretty straightforward; the most common reading of Mulholland Drive is that an actress commits suicide by overdose after causing the death of her ex-girlfriend, who has left her for a man, and that the first two-thirds of the film are her dream of an alternate scenario in which her girlfriend is saved. The last third of the film zooms in and out of ‘real life’, but at the end we see a surreal version of the actual overdose which suggests that this ‘real life’, too, has just been in her psyche. Sherlock dying and recognising that this may kill John is an integral part of TAB, and the relationships have clear parallels, but what is most interesting here is the structural similarity; two-thirds of the way through TAB, give or take, we have the jolt into reality, zoom in and out of it for a while and then have a fucky scene to finish with that suggests that everything is, in fact, still in our dying protagonist’s brain. Mulholland Drive’s ending is a lot sadder than TAB’s – the fact that, unlike Sherlock, there is no sequel can lead us to assume that Diane dies – and it’s also a lot more confusing; it’s often cited as one of the most complicated films ever made even just in terms of surface level plot, before getting into anything else, and it certainly took me a huge amount of time on Google before I could approach anything like a resolution on it!

Mulholland Drive is the defining film in terms of the navigating-the-surreal-psyche subgenre, and so the structural parallels between the two are significant – and definitely point to the idea that Sherlock hasn’t woken up at the end of TAB, which is important. But we don’t need to take this parallel as evidence; there’s plenty of that in the episode itself. Let’s jump in.

Emelia as Eurus

When we first meet Eurus in TST, she calls herself E; this initialism is a link to Moriarty, but it’s also a convenient link to other ‘E’ names. Lots of people have already commented on the aural echo of ‘Eros’ in ‘Eurus’, which is undeniable; the idea that there is something sexual hidden inside her name chimes beautifully with her representation of a sexual repression. The other important character to begin with E, however, is Emelia Ricoletti. The name ‘Emelia’ doesn’t come from ACD canon, and it’s an unorthodox spelling (Amelia would be far more common), suggesting that starting with an ‘E’ is a considered choice.

When TAB aired, we were preoccupied with Emelia as a Sherlock mirror, and it’s easy to see why; the visual parallels (curly black hair, pale skin) plus the parallel faked death down to the replacement body, which Mofftiss explicitly acknowledge in the episode. However, I don’t think that this reading is complete; rather, she foreshadows the Eurus that we meet in s4. The theme of ghosts links TAB with s4 very cleanly; TAB is about Emelia, but there is also a suggestion of the ghosts of one’s past with Sir Eustace as well as Sherlock’s own claims (‘the shadows that define our every sunny day’). Compare this to s4 – ‘ghosts from the past’ appears on pretty much every promotional blurb, and the word is used several times in relation to Eurus. If Eurus is the ghost from Sherlock’s past, the repressive part of his psyche that keeps popping back, Emelia is a lovely metaphor for this; she is quite literally the ghost version of Sherlock who won’t die.

What does it mean, then, when Jim and Emelia become one and the same in the scene where Jim wears the bride’s dress? We initially read this as Jim being the foil to Sherlock, his dark side, but I think it’s more complicated than this. Sherlock’s brain is using Emelia as a means of understanding Jim, but when we watch the episode it seems that they’ve actually merged. Jim wearing the veil of the bride is a good example of this, but I also invite you to rewatch the moment when John is spooked by the bride the night that Eustace dies; the do not forget me song has an undeniable South Dublin accent.* This is quite possibly Yasmine Akram [Janine] rather than Andrew Scott, of course, but let’s not forget that these characters are resolutely similar, and hearing Jim’s accent in a genderless whisper is a pretty clear way of inflecting him into the image of the bride. In addition to this, Eustace then has ‘Miss Me?’ written on his corpse, cementing the link to Moriarty.

[*the South Dublin accent is my accent, so although we hear a half-whispered song for all of five seconds, I’m pretty certain about this]

Jim’s merging with Emelia calls to mind for me what I think might be the most important visual of all of series 4 – Eurus and Jim’s Christmas meeting, where they dance in circles with the glass between them and seem to merge into each other. I do talk about this in a later chapter, but TLDR – if Jim represents John being in danger and Eurus represents decades of repressed gay trauma, this merging is what draws the trauma to the surface just as Jim’s help is what suddenly makes Eurus a problem. It is John’s being in danger which makes Sherlock’s trauma suddenly spike and rise – he has to confront this for the first time – just like Emelia Ricoletti’s case from 1895 only needs solving for the first time now that Jim is back.

At some point I want to do a drag in Sherlock meta, because I think there’s a lot more to it than meets the eye, but Jim in a bride’s dress does draw one obvious drag parallel for me.

If you haven’t seen the music video for I Want to Break Free, it’s 3 minutes long and glorious – and also, I think, reaps dividends when seen in terms of Sherlock. You can watch it here: X

Not only is it a great video, but for British people of Mofftiss’s age, it’s culturally iconic and not something that would be forgotten when choosing that song for Jim. Queen were intending to lampoon Coronation Street, a British soap, and already on the wrong side of America for Freddie Mercury’s unapologetic queerness, found themselves under fire from the American censors. Brian May says that no matter how many times he tried to explain Coronation Street to the Americans, they just didn’t get it. This was huge controversy at the time, but the video and the controversy around it also managed to cement I Want to Break Free as Queen’s most iconic queer number – despite not even being one of Mercury’s songs. There is no way that Steven Moffat, and even more so Mark Gatiss would not have an awareness of this in choosing this song for Moriarty. Applying any visual to this song is going to invite comparisons to the video – and inflecting a sense of drag here is far from inappropriate. Moriarty has been subsumed into Eurus in Sherlock’s brain – the male and the female are fused into an androgynous and implicitly therefore all-encompassing being. I’m not necessarily comfortable with the gendered aspect of this – genderbending is something we really only see in our villains here – but given this is about queer trauma, deliberately queering its form in this way is making what we’re seeing much more explicit.

Nothing new under the sun

“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun” (Ecclesiastes)

"Read it up -- you really should. There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before." (A Study in Scarlet, Sherlock Holmes)

“Hasn’t this all happened before? There’s nothing new under the sun.” (The Abominable Bride, Jim Moriarty)

This is arguably the key to spotting that TAB is a dream long before they tell us – when TAB’s case is early revealed to be a mixture between TRF (Emelia’s suicide) and TGG (the five pips), and we see the opening of ASiP repeated, we should be questioning what on earth is going on. This can also help us to recognise s4 as being EMP as well though – old motifs from the previous series keep repeating through the cases, like alarm bells ringing. Moriarty telling Sherlock that there is nothing new under the sun is his key to understanding that the Emelia case is meant to help him understand what happened to Jim, that it’s a mental allegory or mirror to help him parse it. This doesn’t go away when TAB ends! Moving into TST, one of the striking things is that cases are still repeating! The Six Thatchers appeared on John’s blog way back, before the fall – you can read it here: X. It’s about a gay love affair that ends in one participant killing the other. Take from that what you will, when John’s extramarital affection is making him suicidal and Sherlock comatose. Meanwhile, the title of The Final Problem refers to the story that was already covered in TRF and the phone situation with the girl on the plane references both ASiB and TGG, and the ending of TST is close to a rerun of HLV. It’s pretty much impossible to escape echoes of previous series in a way that is almost creepy, but we’ve already had this explained to us in TAB – none of this is real. It’s supposed to be explaining what is happening in the real world – and Mofftiss realised that this was going to be difficult to stomach, and so they included TAB as a kind of key to the rest of the EMP, which becomes much more complex.

However, if we want to go deeper we should look at where that quote comes from. I’ve given a few epigraphs to this section to show where the quote comes from – first the book of Ecclesiastes, then A Study in Scarlet. It’s one of the first things Holmes says and it is during his first deduction in Lauriston Gardens. This is where I’m going to dive pretty deep into the metatextual side of things, so bear with the weirdness.

[we’re going deeper]

Holmes’s first deduction from A Study in Scarlet shows that he’s no great innovator – he simply notices things and spots patterns from things he has seen before. This is highlighted by the fact that he even makes this claim by quoting someone before him. If our Sherlock also makes deductions based on patterns from the past, extensive dream sequences where he works through past cases as mirrors for present ones makes perfect sense and draws very cleverly on canon. However, I think his spotting of patterns goes deeper than that. Sherlock Holmes has been repressed since the publication of A Study in Scarlet, through countless adaptations in literature and film. Plenty of these adaptations as well as the original stories are referenced in the EMP, not least by going back to 1895, the year that symbolises the era in which most of these adaptations are set. (If you don’t already know it, check out the poem 221B by Vincent Starrett, one of the myriad of reasons why the year 1895 is so significant.) My feeling is that these adaptations, which have layered on top of each other in the public consciousness to cement the image of Sherlock Holmes the deductive machine [which he’s not, sorry Conan Doyle estate] come to symbolise the 100+ years of repression that Sherlock himself has to fight through to come out of the EMP as his queer self.

This is one of the reasons that the year 1895 is so important; it was the year of Oscar Wilde’s trial and imprisonment for gross indecency, and this is clearly a preoccupation of Sherlock’s consciousness in TFP with its constant Wilde references, suggesting that his MP’s choice of 1895 wasn’t coincidental. Much was made during TAB setlock of a newspaper that said ‘Heimish The Ideal Husband’, Hamish being John’s middle name and An Ideal Husband being one of Wilde’s plays. But the Vincent Starrett poem, although nostalgic and ostensibly lovely, for tjlcers and it seems for Sherlock himself symbolises something much more troubling. Do search up the full poem, but for now let’s look at the final couplet.

Here, though the world explode, these two survive

And it is always 1895

‘Though the world explode’ is a reference to WW1, which is coming in the final Sherlock Holmes story, and which is symbolised by Eurus – in other chapters, I explain why Eurus and WW1 are united under the concept of ‘winds of change’ in this show. Sherlock and John survive the winds of change – except they don’t move with them. Instead, they stay stuck in 1895, the year of ultimate repression. 2014!Sherlock going back in his head to 1895 and repeating how he met John suggests exactly that, that nothing has changed but the superficial, and that emotionally, he is still stuck in 1895.

Others have pulled out similar references to Holmes adaptations he has to push through in TAB – look at the way he talks in sign language to Wilder, which can only be a reference to Billy Wilder, director of TPLoSH, the only queer Holmes film, and a film which was forced to speak through coding because of the Conan Doyle estate. That film is also referenced by Eurus giving Sherlock a Stradivarius, which is a gift given to him in TPLoSH in exchange for feigning heterosexuality. Eurus is coded as Sherlock’s repression, and citing a repressive moment in a queer film as her first action when she meets Sherlock is another engagement by Sherlock’s psyche with his own cinematic history. My favourite metatextual moment of this nature, however, is the final scene of TFP which sees John and Sherlock running out of a building called Rathbone Place.

Basil Rathbone is one of the most iconic Sherlock Holmes actors on film, and Benedict’s costume in TAB and in particular the big overcoat look are very reminiscent of Rathbone.

Others have discussed (X) how the Victorian costume and the continued use of the deerstalker in the present day are images of Sherlock’s public façade and exclusion of queerness from his identity. It’s true that pretty much every Holmes adaptation has used the deerstalker, but the strong Rathbone vibes that come from Ben’s TAB costume ties the 1895 vibe very strongly into Rathbone. To have the final scene – and hopefully exit from the EMP – tie in with Sherlock and John running out of Rathbone Place tells us that, just as Sherlock cast off the deerstalker at the end of TAB (!), he has also cast off the iconic filmic Holmes persona which has never been true to his actual identity.

Waterfall scene

The symbol of water runs through TAB as well as s4 – others have written fantastic meta on why water represents Sherlock’s subconscious (X), but I want to give a brief outline. It first appears with the word ‘deeper’ which keeps reappearing, which then reaches a climax in the waterfall scene. The idea that Sherlock could drown in the waters of his mind is something that Moriarty explicitly references, suggesting that Sherlock could be ‘buried in his own Mind Palace’. The ‘deep waters’ line keeps repeating through series 4, and I just want to give the notorious promo photo from s4 which confirms the significance of the motif.

This is purely symbolic – it never happens in the show. Water increases in significance throughout – think of Sherlock thinking he’s going mad in his mind as he is suspended over the Thames, or the utterly nonsensical placement of Sherrinford in the middle of the ocean – the deepest waters of Sherlock’s mind. Much like the repetition of cases hinting that EMP continues, the use of water is something that appears in the MP, and it sticks around from TAB onwards, a real sign that we’re going deeper and deeper. I talk about this more in the bit on TFP, but the good news is that Sherrinford is the most remote place they could find in the ocean – that’s the deepest we’re going. After that, we’re coming out (of the mind).

Shortly after TAB aired, I wrote a meta about the waterfall scene, some of which I now disagree with, but the core framework still stands – it did not, of course, bank on EMP theory. You can find it here (X), but I want to reiterate the basic framework, because it still makes a lot of sense. Jim represents the fear of John’s suicide, and Jim can only be defeated by Sherlock and John together, not one alone – and crucially, calling each other by first names, which would have been very intimate in the Victorian era. After Jim is “killed”, we have Sherlock’s fall. The concept of a fall (as in IOU a fall) has long been linked with falling in love in tjlc. Sherlock tells John that it’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the landing, something that Jim has been suggesting to him for a while. What is the landing, then? Well, Sherlock Holmes fell in love back in the Victorian era, symbolised by the ultra repressive 1895, and that’s where he jumps from – but he lands in the 21st century. Falling in love won’t kill him in the modern day. What I missed that time around, of course, was that despite breaking through the initial Victorian layers of repression, he still dives into more water, and when the plane lands, it still lands in his MP, just in a mental state where the punishment his psyche deals him for homosexuality is less severe. This also sets up s4 as specifically dealing with the problem of the fall – Sherlock jumps to the 21st century specifically to deal with the consequences of his romantic and sexual feelings. There’s a parallel here with Mofftiss time jumping; back when they made A Study in Twink in 2009, there was a reason they made the time jump. Having Sherlock’s psyche have that touch of self-awareness helps to illustrate why they made a similar jump, also dealing with the weight of previous adaptations.

Women

I preface this by saying how incredibly uncomfortable I find the positioning of women as the KKK in TAB. It’s a parallel which is unforgivable; frankly, invoking the KKK without interrogating the whiteness of the show or even mentioning race is unacceptable. Steven Moffat’s ability to write women has consistently been proven to be nil, but this is a new low. However, the presence of women in TAB is vital, so on we go.

TAB specifically deals with the question of those excluded from a Victorian narrative. This is specifically tied into to those who are excluded from the stories, such as Jane and Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson’s complaint is in the same scene as John telling her and Sherlock to blame the problems on the illustrator. This ties back to the deerstalker metaphor which is so prevalent in this episode; something that’s not in the stories at all, but a façade by which Holmes is universally recognised and which as previously referenced masks his queerness. Women, then, are not the only people being excluded from the narrative. When Mycroft tells us that the women have to win, he’s also talking about queer people. This is a war that we must lose.

I don’t think the importance of Molly in particular here has been mentioned before, but forgive me if I’m retreading old ground. However, Molly always has importance in Sherlock as a John mirror, and just because she is dressed as a man here doesn’t mean we should disregard this. If anything, her ridiculous moustache is as silly as John’s here! Molly, although really a member of the resistance, is able to pass in the world she moves in in 1895, but only by masking her own identity. This is exactly what happens to John in the Victorian era – as a bisexual man married to a woman, he is able to pass, but it is not his true identity. More than that, Molly is a member of the resistance, suggesting not just that John is queer but that he’s aware of it and actively looking for it to change.

I know I was joking about Molly and John’s moustaches, but putting such a silly moustache on Molly links to the silliness of John’s moustaches, which only appear when he’s engaged to a woman and in the Victorian era. He has also grown the moustache just so the illustrator will recognise him, and Molly has grown her moustache so that she will be recognised as a man. In this case, Molly is here to demonstrate the fact that John is passing, but only ever passing. Furthermore, Molly, who is normally the kindest person in the whole show, is bitter and angry throughout TAB – it’s not difficult to see then how hiding one’s identity can affect one’s mental health. I really do think that John is a lot more abrasive in TAB than he is in the rest of the show, but that’s not the whole story. Showing how repression can completely impair one’s personality also points to the suicidal impulses that are lurking just out of sight throughout TAB – this is what Sherlock is terrified of, and again his brain is warning him just what it is that is causing John this much pain and uncharacteristic distress.

This is just about the loosest sketch of TAB that could exist! But TAB meta has been so extensive that going over it seems futile, or else too grand a project within a short chapter. Certain theories are still formulating, and may appear at a later date! But what this chapter (I hope) has achieved has set up the patterns that we’re going to see play out in s4 – between the metatextuality, the waters of the mind and the role of Moriarty in the psyche, we can use TAB as a key with which to read s4. I like to think of it as a gift from Mofftiss, knowing just how cryptic s4 would be – and these are the basic clues with which to solve it.

That’s it for TAB, at least in this series – next up we’re going ever deeper, to find out exactly who is Eurus. See you then?

#tjlc #emp theory #thewatsonbeekeepers #my meta #meta #mine #chapter four: it is always 1895 #vincent starrett #mofftiss #1895 #bbc sherlock #johnlock #tjlc is real

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years ago

Text

Functional Dysfunction - Rheese - Chapter 1

written by @anotheronechicagobog

A/N: This is a new series I’ve been trying to work on and I’m so happy that I’m finally done the first chapter! It’s IMPORTANT to note that this the fic I took a survey for a while back so; Sarah Reese has a double specialty of ED and Neuro. Also, it’s a bit AU so be prepared for that.

Warnings: swearing, vomit, unplanned pregnancy, talk of abortion

The waiting room was a decent size, but she still felt small. Surrounded by medical diagrams and leather couches, and pregnant women, and pregnant women with children. She felt completely out of depth and she was finding it hard to breathe. Her tunnel vision was only broken when the nurse called her name. The older woman smiled at her obvious nerves and Sarah was instantly relieved, not because of the woman’s assuring demeanour, but because she knew that if she had gone to a doctor at MED instead of Planned Parenthood, she would have instead been met with shock, judgement, and awaiting a comment from Doris.

“Dr. Singh will be with you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

So Sarah laid back on the examination table in the flimsy blue paper gown with her unmentionables in the breeze, because of course, Sarah found herself in a situation where she’d need a transvaginal ultrasound instead of a pap smear. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to calm herself down.

“Ms. Reese?”

“Hi.”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Singh. You believe you’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I took two home tests, I’ve been nauseous but only between two and four in the afternoon and one and four in the morning, I missed my period, I’ve been fatigued, and my breasts have been sore. And it’s... Uh, it’s Dr. Reese, actually.”

“Okay, then. Are you in your residency?”

“Halfway through my second year.”

“So you know how this works then.”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring any support? We have counsellors and resources you can use. Your mental and emotional wellbeing is just as important as your physical health.”

“I’m fine. I just want to get the pregnancy confirmed and then book an abortion. I’m in my second year of residency, the father was a one night stand, and my main source of income comes from my mother who would not approve of me having a baby out of wedlock.”

“I completely understand. Med school was hard enough for me without pregnancy and then a baby. We’re still going to have a counsellor talk to you about it beforehand, make sure that you’re making the decision for you and not for anyone else.”

“Alright, I guess.”

“Well, let’s get started, shall we?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah was right, she was pregnant. She wasn’t surprised and it didn’t change how she felt. So when she walked into her next shift she didn’t expect a concerned Maggie to approach her. “Hey Sarah, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Maggie, why? Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“You’re pale, you haven’t been eating much lately, and you’ve been more tired lately. What’s going on Reese, are you sick? You can talk to Goodwin and she’ll give you time off.”

“I’m grateful that you’re worried about me Maggie, but I’m not sick or anything, I promise. It’s just stress.” Sarah tried and failed to tell herself that she wasn’t technically lying, but pushed that thought to the back of her mind and took in Maggie’s disbelieving demeanour.

“If you’re sure...”

“I am.” Maggie gave her a look that clearly said ‘I don’t think you’re telling the truth but your lie is plausible so I’m letting it go for now’ as she exited the doctor’s lounge, leaving Sarah alone. She took a deep breath as she put her stuff in her locker before grabbing a clean pair of scrubs. After she’d changed into them she looked into the full mirror of the dressing room, staring herself down. She willed against herself not to do it and lost. She turned to the side and placed her hands over her abdomen. She knew that the fetus inside of her was tiny, the size of a sesame seed, but... She didn’t know what she was doing, truthfully. So she shook her head and squared her shoulders before tying her hair back and walking up to the nurses’ station. “What have you got for me, Maggie?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew Pierson was seventeen and optimistic, something that both she and Rhodes admired. It made their daily rounds and checkups much easier. On most days they both went at the same time so that both departments were able to get first-hand results and to prevent miscommunication. The only problem was that they were always at 3:30 pm, smack dab in the one-hour afternoon window of Sarah’s ‘morning’ sickness. She did her best to quell it in advance; ginger tea, fresh air, mindful of what she’d had for lunch, and she was always drinking water. Sometimes though, like today, morning sickness couldn’t be quelled or repressed. She and Rhodes were discussing Andrew’s latest brain scan and what his injury meant for a valve replacement, when it reared its ugly head like never before. The bile was rising up her throat, fast and hot. She stopped talking in the middle of her sentence, drawing attention from her colleague and her patient. She didn’t register dropping her tablet. She darted into the adjoining bathroom and emptied the little liquid she had in her stomach. Even after it was all out she had to sit there dry-heaving. The burning discomfort in her throat didn’t bother her like it used to, and the painful twisting in her stomach annoyed her more than anything else at this point. When the hellish nausea finally passed she was able to register that she wasn’t alone. Rhodes stood behind her, holding her hair back for her. She turned to look at him and he clearly felt unbelievably awkward, like her, but she did see worry clearly on display behind his eyes. “What’s going on, Reese? You’ve been sick all week.” She hastily got on her feet, only for Rhodes to have to steady her when her balance wavered and mind spun from doing it too fast. After she was okay enough that Rhodes could let go, she warily made her way to the sink to rinse her mouth, only to find that there was some vomit on the edges of her lips and chin, only furthering her embarrassment as Rhodes tried to make eye contact in the mirror.

“It’s nothing-”

“Okay, stop. This is not nothing, you don’t think I’ve noticed how pale and nauseous you get every day? I may have my head wrapped around for too much but I’m not an idiot. Not to mention, you literally just dropped our patient’s brain scans to vomit. You are not fine, actually, you know what? Let’s just go down to the ED, get you checked out-”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Reese, these are continual symptoms, they could be the sign of-”

“I’m pregnant.”

“... Oh.” Sarah bit out harshly, turned the water off, and left the bathroom, leaving Rhodes standing by the toilet, as she blinked back tears. The look in his eyes, the acknowledgement, the pity. She picked up her, thankfully undamaged tablet, as a demure Dr. Rhodes came to stand beside her again. “I’m very sorry Mr. Pierson, I think I ate some bad sushi yesterday. Let’s just finish our appointment and then we can get you started on your new preparation plan so that you’re ready for surgery, okay?”

“Sounds good, and I hope you feel better soon, doc.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Rhodes had spent the remainder of Andrew’s appointment standing beside her clearly shocked and somewhat muted. When they both left though, he steered her into the closest conference room he could find. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, now if you’ll excuse me I have other patients that need my care-”

“What about you? Who’s caring for you? You’ve been really sick, and although pregnancy explains it, it doesn’t change the fact that you have concerning symptoms or that Maggie is one bathroom trip away from admitting you into the hospital herself. Because I haven’t heard anything about you in any of the gossip I’m going to assume that you haven’t told many, if any at all, people here. So is there anyone who knows? Anyone who can help you out? And what about the father? I mean you’re pregnant, you’re going to have a baby. Have you spoken to Goodwin yet? She’ll work with everyone to make sure that you’ve got everything you need-”

“Okay, stop! No one knows and I want to keep it that way. I’m not... I’m getting an abortion. And I just...” Sarah took a deep breath as she blinked her tears away. Not now, not at work, not in front of Dr. Rhodes.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” He stood there awkwardly, his arms hovering around her form, unsure of whether he should embrace her or not. Sarah shrugged his hand away and took a few controlled breaths. “I won’t tell anyone, but, does anybody know? And I don’t mean from work, I mean in general, do you have someone to talk to about this? Or take you to and from the procedure?”

“No but it’s fine, I’ll just call a cab after.”

“What if something goes wrong during the procedure, who are they going to call? You have to list an emergency contact.”

“I’ll be fine, everything will be fine.” Sarah took a steadying breath as she tried to quell her morning sickness, again, and stop her body from shaking. “Are you trying to reassure me? Or yourself?” Sarah honestly didn’t have an answer for that.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah cursed herself constantly over the fifteen-minute drive it took to get to Molly’s. Not only did she reveal a pretty damning secret to one of the hospital’s top surgeons, but she hadn’t been able to get out of going to the bar with the rest of the ED staff. And since Molly’s was a firefighter bar, owned by a few members of the 51st firehouse, the father of her child was most likely going to be there. She sat in her car, trying not to let the dread fill her as she stared at the ornate door of what was now her least favourite bar, not that she enjoyed drinking enough to have a favourite. She took the seat next to Maggie and tried to join in on the laughter that was being shared amongst her colleagues. But she couldn’t, she felt hot and cold all over, her breathing was tense, her chest was constricted, and her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. The fact that Jimmy Borrelli, the father of the unborn child inside of her that he didn’t even know about, was staring at her with familiar lust-filled eyes, and that Connor Rhodes, currently the only person who knew about her pregnancy, just entered and looked at her with a mix of shock, horror, and concern, did absolutely nothing to help with her stress or her pregnancy symptoms. Rhodes made his way over to the table with a guarded look on his face. “Hey guys, how about I get the next round?”

“You’re not new anymore Rhodes, we know you’re not a complete stuck up ass, you don’t have to keep trying to bribe us.”

“Thanks for your words of kindness, Halstead, but this isn’t bribery, this is me offering beer.”

“... Fair enough, man. I think we’re all up for it.”

“Great, hey Reese, would you mind helping me carry it all over?” The meaningful look Rhodes sent made it clear he was using this as an excuse to talk to her away from their co-workers. “Sure.” She tried to sound chipper as she hopped out of her seat, but her voice was tired and it cracked partway through the word. Rhodes visibly frowned and Sarah could feel the concerned stares from her co-workers. They walked to the counter and nodded at Hermann, ready to wait until he was available. “I know that you’re... ‘Cancelling your subscription’,” he spoke lowly, mindful of all the ears around them and how fast gossip flourished among the groups present, “but you still, you know, have it. Should you be drinking?”

“I’m not. I’ve missed too many get-togethers and because of my, uh ‘binge-watching’. People, Maggie in particular are getting suspicious. And honestly, even though I’m ‘cancelling my subscription’, I can’t bring myself to do anything to harm... You know. I, uh, I don’t even drink, really.”

“Yeah, I know. Is there anything else I can get you, then?” Sarah shook her head even though her stomach had turned on her and was eating itself. The bodily organ betrayed her, making an audible growl that could be heard above the music bursting out of the speaker directly above them and the loud mixture of conversations that made nearly everything inaudible. He raised his eyebrow as she scolded herself internally and tried to ignore the warmth creeping up to her cheeks at his bemused expression. “You sure about that? How about some food? I hear that Mills has taken up working the kitchen here, the food should be good.”

“The food is great! And I’m not just saying that because I own that place.” Sarah jumped at Hermann’s voice, not knowing he’d gotten back to them.

“Would you mind showing me a menu then, Hermann? I won’t turn down free food.” Sarah nodded her head at the man standing next to her with a slight smile on her face, feeling better than she had all day if she was being honest. “Oh, is the good doctor buying again?”

“Yes I am, which reminds me, three pitchers of Coors please, and-”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“And spaghetti and meatballs, please.”

“You got it. Here’s your beer, glasses for everyone, and your food’ll be brought over to you when it’s done.”

“Great.”

“And Reese?”

“Yeah?”

“Give us a good review, will ya? We could use all the help we can get to gain some traction for the kitchen.”

“You got it.”

Sarah eyed the tower of glasses she had in her right hand, concentrating far more than necessary if she was being honest, to make sure that she didn’t drop them. When Sarah set the glasses and full pitcher down she took the opportunity to look around the tables at her colleagues. Everyone had gone back to their conversations, and weren’t regarding her with caution, except for Maggie and Manning. They shared a look with each other, then her. “I’m fine, promise.” They shared another look with each other before discreetly taking her hands into theirs. “We don’t believe you.”

#One Chicago #chicago med #Chicago Fire #Sarah Reese #connor rhodes x sarah reese #connor rhodes #maggie lockwood #Natalie Manning #jimmy borrelli #will halstead

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love-killed-the-superstar · 4 years ago

Text

yay its day 2!! uhh this one’s very dialogue heavy lol

CASSUNZEL WEEK DAY 2 - SECRETS AND PROMISES

“Hey... Cass?”

“Mhm?”

“The Day of Hearts is coming up. Think you’ll stick around for it this time?”

“Eugh. You know there’s a reason I don’t like to come back this time of year, right?”

Cassandra rolls her eyes so spectacularly far back Rapunzel can’t help but laugh despite the gesture being directed at her.

“Well, since you returned I’ve been thinking about the first Day of Hearts we spent together.”

“Oh, geez, this again? Can’t we just put that whole incident in the past?” Cass grumbles.

She’s posing – stiffly as a whistle, mind – for one of Rapunzel’s signature portraits. Rapunzel knows that Cass gets restless whenever she paints her, but the request is a way she can keep her in one place for a while. (That, and Cass is one of her favourite muses; something about the sharpness of her eyes draws her in, and the delight she takes in trying to paint hints of her toned muscles under her formless clothing is unparalleled.)

Cassandra hasn’t been back for… over six months now. She’s missed her.

“You just seemed so… annoyed about the whole affair, even before that guy Andrew arrived in Corona,” Rapunzel continues, mixing up a creamy paint for the base of Cassandra’s skin. “Was it really because you were only pretending to date him?”

“No, no, it had nothing to do with him at the core of it, I just… don’t care for romance and hearts, and Shorty dressing as whatever the hell kind of messed up cherub he’s going for.”

“Sure, the sight isn’t for everybody,” Rapunzel laughs. “You still believe you don’t care for romance and hearts though, after all this time?”

“You’re an exception to the rule, all right? Besides, Corona has way too many public holidays for my liking.”

“All right, noted. I’ve just always wondered if there was something more to it. I know we don’t share everything, and I know you have boundaries. If you really don’t want to talk about it, I’ll drop the subject. Princess’s Honour.”

She holds up her hand in a scout-like salute, almost dropping her paintbrush in the process, and Cass laughs.

“As a rogue traveller, Princess’s Honour only goes so far these days.”

“Well, what about Girlfriend’s Honour?”

“Now that, I can work with.” Cass hums in thought. “To tell you the truth, Raps, I just don’t have a great experience with romance. Besides you, of course.”

“I have no experience with romance besides you and Eugene,” Rapunzel remarks. “Does that make us about even?”

Cass grins, shaking her head in exasperation. “Uh, maybe, I guess. Besides, even if I was looking for love – which I’m not, just to clarify – it’s not so straightforward as that.”

“What?! Why? I know you, er, don’t warm up to people so easily, but you’re smart and funny and strong, and you’re beautiful! Any man would-”

“Well that’s one of the bigger hurdles, to start with,” Cass interrupts. Her mouth pulls into a line as she contemplates her next words, her eyes darting between Rapunzel and the door as if calculating her odds of being able to make a hasty exit if things get too personal for her liking. “I don’t date men, Rapunzel. At all. I thought that would be obvious, since I’m in love with you, but...”

Rapunzel stares, brush suspended midway to the canvas as she processes that last statement.

“What, at all? But, I thought – even if you were pretending with Andrew, you still…”

“Seriously?! After all that happened you thought I would actually be attracted to that whiny, pig-headed-”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Rapunzel holds out her hand, and Cass stops her arm-waving tirade to glare at Rapunzel. “Please, Cass, I’m still painting you.”

Cass pulls a face and reluctantly moves back into her original pose, before starting again. “Rapunzel, did you listen to that ridiculous story about the sheepskin jacket? I had to hear it three times. And the preaching on and on about being a bibliophile, while I had to sit there knowing perfectly well he couldn’t even spell the word… Any shred of curiosity I might have had for how the other half lives – it left long before that last retelling, believe me.”

“He had a nice face,” Rapunzel offers.

“A nice face is just a nice face, it doesn’t mean anything. Don’t forget he’s tried to invade Corona twice already.”

“Hmm. Good point. Well, you have me now, so we can forget about that guy.”

“I honestly haven’t given that clown a passing thought in years.” She stands patiently as Rapunzel holds up a tube of paint against her tunic to judge how much warm blue to mix with the yellow in her palette. “Besides, you’re telling me our extremely brief sham relationship felt believable to you? I’m surprised. Romance isn’t something you can just… force.”

And Rapunzel gets that – no, really, she does. While her relationship with Eugene has had its share of rough patches over the years, it’s something that happened organically. After all that she’s been through with Cassandra, it should have been obvious that she’d never had even an ounce of fondness towards the guy she had almost mercilessly swindled. Some small part of Rapunzel just wanted Cass to have felt happy and safe with someone in the days before they got together, she supposes.

“I guess back then I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did,” Rapunzel admits. She etches out Cassandra’s sturdy frame in shades of moss green, each stroke a little bolder than the last. “Maybe I still don’t. But I’d like to, you know! Has there ever been someone else you liked, as more than a friend?”

“...Once,” Cass begrudgingly admits. “It’s not exactly a happy story.”

“But it’s your story.” Rapunzel peers around the canvas to meet Cass’s reluctant gaze. “If you’re willing to share it, I’m here to listen.”

“God, I’ve never talked about this with anyone,” Cass sighs, folding her arms over her chest. This time, Rapunzel doesn’t bother asking her to move back into her original pose, out of fear of detracting from the story. “Well, anyone who doesn’t already know, anyway.”

“It won’t leave this room,” Rapunzel promises. She mixes a shade darker than the tunic and begins to fleck in little details. Stitches, tears, stains, anything to bring the girl on her canvas to life as the girl in front of her begins to recount her tale.

“...Her name was Alix. When I was turned fourteen my education was finished and I got indoctrinated into being a palace maid by my father. Alix was the same age as me but had been working there much longer, so she sort of took me under her wing and taught me the basics of, y'know, folding laundry properly! Making beds to the palace standards! All that stuff.”

“You've never mentioned an Alix before,” Rapunzel murmurs. She tries to conjure an image of this elusive Alix. Was she pretty? Did they understand each other on levels Rapunzel fears the two of them might never? Did she go charging in out of the goodness of her heart, blind to the consequences, like Rapunzel so often does when it comes to Cassandra’s wellbeing?

“There's a reason for that,” Cass sighs. She peeks over at Rapunzel doubtfully. “This... isn't going to paint me in a favourable light.”

“I can take it!” Rapunzel says, almost indignantly. She reaches over, standing on her tiptoes and stretching out her arm as far as it’ll reach past the canvas, to squeeze Cassandra's hand. “It’s me, Cass. You can tell me.”

Cassandra cracks a smile and hangs her head. “All right, all right! But you've been warned. Okay, so... just over a year after we first met, we started… I don’t know, being a couple, I guess. Iit wasn’t anything serious. Or maybe it was. I don't know, it was my first time just – just being with somebody, you know? It was all new to me – liking somebody, liking another girl.”

Rapunzel tries to picture an adolescent Cass, running arm-in-arm with this girl, whose features she just can’t seem to imagine. It’s pretty surreal, seeing as Cass was such a closed-off person when they first met, that she could ever be this giggly teenager smitten over a first crush. Then again, hasn’t Rapunzel been witness to moments like that, when she takes Cassandra’s hand unexpectedly, or hugs her from behind, or puts into words just how much she cares for her?

Against her better judgement, Rapunzel abandons detailing on the tunic and focuses on Cassandra’s face instead, wishing to capture a hint of that life in her eyes; memories of times she’s caught her unguarded, rather than the gloomy face of her girlfriend in front of her.

“So the Day of Hearts is approaching,” Cass continues, “and we’ve been together for a few months. It’s been great. But then one day Alix decides that when the day rolls around, the two of us are going to sign Herz Der Sonne’s journal together.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s a big step.” What else can she say? She and Eugene only signed their names last year, and they’d waited to get engaged before feeling ready to take that next step. She can only imagine the immense pressure someone like Cass, who has always been skittish about committing to anything in the department of romance, would feel when propositioned with something like that.

“Thank you, exactly! It felt like the biggest deal in the world! It was a big commitment, we were way too young, and I didn’t even think we were together long enough to do something like that.”

Rapunzel frowns. “So what happened?”

“We argued about it.” Cass snorts. “She called me chicken, like if she psyched me out enough I’d change my mind. Can you imagine that, saying it’s chicken for not wanting to commit to someone when you’re just barely fifteen?”

Rapunzel can’t imagine. At fifteen she’d never even met someone she could consider a romantic interest. Even the few books in the tower gave her a very limited view on what romance was.

“Anyway, I told her no. A firm no. I didn’t mind us spending the day together, but I didn’t want a written reminder that would show the whole world who we were. Of course, that turned into a fight about, you know, identity politics and pride in ourselves and stuff that as a kid I really didn’t think too much about. Well, she stormed off and I finished my shift as normal.”

Cass’s face changes a little, from this tired exasperation to… something of a stormy expression. “But I didn’t realise that she’d swiped my keys in the heat of our argument. That night, she snuck in and signed our names in the book after dark.”

Rapunzel’s jaw drops.

“But – but that’s against everything the ritual stands for! It’s something couples are meant to do together, with – with complete honesty!”

“Alix didn’t exactly care much about the rules, it’s what drew us together in the first place. Anyway, the next day she told me all about it, like it was something to be proud of. Really gloated that now we were serious and she’d done it because she wasn’t afraid of her feelings or what anybody thought about us.” Cassandra’s eyes narrow at the memory. “So I took a swing at her.”

“With a sword?!” Rapunzel frets.

“What? No, with the end of my broom. We were working. You think I’d still be working in the palace when we met if I’d struck another maid down with a sword?” Cass’s mouth draws into a grim line, and she suddenly finds herself incredibly interested in her own feet. “Well, that turned into the two of us physically fighting, so we were put on latrine duty as punishment and my dad was summoned. I was so distraught about what happened I couldn’t even think about explaining it to him, but somebody happened to overhear what we were fighting about and showed him the book.”

She falls quiet, and the silence stretches on. Rapunzel stops her almost frantic etching of facial features to peer past her canvas in concern, before Cass finally speaks up again. “That’s how he found out about me. About who I was.”

“Are you okay?” Rapunzel asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just kind of a horrible way for it all to go down, right?” She looks over at Rapunzel, eyes almost blazing, and utters, “My dad is a good man. He saw how furious and upset I was and marched right to the king to explain the situation. Hours later, our names were papered over and we pretty much never spoke of it again.”

Rapunzel thinks back to the times over the years that she’s spent flipping through the pages of the journal, recalling the one page with a simple square of embossed lilac paper neatly concealing the paper beneath, clearly a later edition. She had always wondered about it.

“And what happened to Alix?” Rapunzel ventures, as she mixes a deep raven for Cassandra’s hair.

“She was fired for breaking into the throne room after hours and desecrating royal property,” Cass recalls with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “After all, your father is a stickler for tradition. Last I heard she took up a post in Pittsford, but I don’t keep tabs on her or anything.” She spreads her arms out in a theatrical gesture. “Anyway, there you have it. My very sad, very brief experience of love.”

“She sounds awful,” Rapunzel declares, shaking her head in disdain. Cass shrugs.

“She wasn’t. Misguided, inconsiderate and a horrible decision-maker, yes, but she wasn’t a bad person. We were kids. I like to think she’s embarrassed about what happened, but I guess we’ll never know.”

“...So that’s the real reason you hate the Day of Hearts.”

“Raps, we went through this already!” groans Cass. “It’s not to do with any one thing, I just… don’t care for commercial romance and public holidays, that’s all there is to it.” She pinches her brow tiredly. “But I hated the book for years after. Just knowing our names were in there, even if no one else could see, just made me mad.”

“I’m sorry that it happened to you,” Rapunzel says gently. “It wasn’t a fair situation.”

“Yeah, well, what’s done is done. Look, uh…” Cass folds her arms, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Can you… not tell Eugene about any of that? Or anyone? Not like… that I’m a lesbian, you can tell anybody that. In fact, I’m pretty sure Eugene already knows that part. But… all the stuff about Alix. That whole chapter of my life is kind of embarrassing, and I just. I don’t like to bring it up, so.”

“Cassandra, I promised you,” Rapunzel says, setting down her paintbrush and moving over to her. She grabs her hand and squeezes tight. “This is between us. No matter what.”

Pinched expression melting into relief, Cass squeezes back and squares her shoulders. “Thanks. So, can I see this painting yet? Or move from this spot, at least?”

“Sure, come here.”

Rapunzel leads her over to admire the canvas. The painting is a little odd, compared to Rapunzel’s typical style; the pose is stiff and vacant, just as Cassandra had been stood herself, but the ferocious brush strokes and tiny details woven in amplify the tension radiating from her body language, almost to the point of appearing antagonistic. Likewise, her expression is bright, wide-eyed and challenging; just as it is when Rapunzel says something overtly romantic or daring that takes her away from her usual focused exterior.

The amalgamation of those characteristics creates a vision of Cass that looks ready to jump up and pick a fight at any moment. Rapunzel glances over at Cass, an apology on the tip of her tongue, only to find that her girlfriend looks somewhere between amused and enamoured by the final product.

“I, um, didn’t mean to paint you looking so confrontational,” Rapunzel begins.

“Are you kidding me? I love this! Look, Raps, as much as I love your usual paintings of the two of us smiling at each other and hugging in a meadow or the like, this… it’s unusual for you. It’s fierce. I really, really love it.”

She leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Rapunzel’s head, before pulling her into a side hug. Rapunzel leans into the hug, beaming up at her.

“I’m glad you like it. It makes the standing in one spot for too long worthwhile, doesn’t it?”

“Ehh, almost. I wouldn’t push it too hard, Raps.”

“...Hey, Cass?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you think you’ll ever write your name in Herz Der Sonne’s journal, after what happened?”

“Maybe. See, now that you mention it, there’s this girl who I really like…” Rapunzel cranes her neck to look up at her, unimpressed, and Cass’s mouth quirks into a grin. “I’m talking about you, Raps. Just so we’re clear.”

“No, no, by all means! If there’s someone you’d like me to meet…”

“Well, I’ll give you a hint, it’s definitely not Andrew.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Rapunzel reaches up to cup Cass’s face, gently pulling her in close. “And it’s definitely not that jerk Alix, right?”

Cassandra’s grin grows wider. “You’re not jealous of the girlfriend I briefly had when I was a teenager, are you, Rapunzel?”

“What? No! I just, y’know, wish she’d treated you better, that’s all,” Rapunzel grumbles. “You deserve better, Cass. You deserve the world and more.”

With a huff of laughter, Cass leans in and kisses Rapunzel softly. “Lucky for me, my current girlfriend knows how to treat me right.”

“You know, my magic girlfriend powers work best on the Day of Hearts,” Rapunzel trills, twirling a strand of Cassandra’s hair around her finger. “Just so you’re aware.”

Cass groans. “I better not regret it if I agree to stick around this year.”

“You won’t! We’ll keep it nice and lowkey. You’ll never even know it’s the most romantic day of the year!”

“Uh huh, keep talking…”

Maybe this year won’t be the year. In fact, after everything Cass has told her today, wouldn’t it be super insensitive to broach the topic of signing the book together in two days time? Still, as she glances back to the painting of the tough fighter of a woman staring back at her, warmth washes over her, settling comfortably in the pit of her stomach.

Some day, when the timing is right, wouldn’t it be wonderful?

#cassunzel week #cassunzel week 2020 #cassunzel #tangled the series #tts #writing #is this one my best work?? eh probably not but... a prompt is a prompt

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fipindustries · 4 years ago

Text

list of comics i made so far

i already shared the list of all the novels i tried to write throughout my llife so i see no reason why not to do the same with the comics i tried to work on. no i should clarify, with my lists of novels there was a clear cut distinction between what was a novel and a short story so to parse one from the other was an easy task. it should be known that i wrote hundreds of shorts stories that i havent shared with anyone. now a similar situation occurs with my comics, i have done hundreds upon hundreds of little comics, short jokes, little skits and short lived strips through my life, so in order to give this list some weight and not make it longer than the bible the criteria i used was that it had to be something i did on a regular basis or that tells a self contained story with a beggining middle and end.

now without further ado, lets begin!

spike Vanderville (age 7)

you can tell i was way more into comics than i was into novels from a young age. done with pen and folded paper, it was the story about a young kid called spike, whose design was heavily inspired by bradley from sticking around, who had magical powers which allowed him to manipulate reality. it was a mix of harry potter and a series of illustrates short stories that came in a magazine in argentina. his best friend was a scarecrow with a pumpkin head that he had brought to life, his archnemesis was a fat bully.

curiously enough i was so passionate about this project even though i had no idea what i was doing and no talent that i actually did like three full colored issues of it. my family was really proud of me. sadly those comics are completly lost to time

andrew and the monkey (age 10)

this was the classical story about a boy and his best friend the talking animal. one page comedy strips done in pen and paper. nothing too clever, just a way for me to try lame jokes mostly stolen from spongebob squarepants. not much else to it. i tried to do like a revamp in 2014 but it was short lived, as you can see the jokes didnt get any less lame

FIP industries (age 17)

mostly done in digital. yes as you can see fip is something that has followed me my whole life in quite the variety of mediums. there were as a matter of fact multiple attempts to make this comic a real thing but time and again they would peter off as i saw that my skill was just not up to the task. i think i have talked more than enough about fip industries on this blog, one interesting thing is that if you follow the link you will come across a lot of proto ideas that i had before they cemented and took their definite shape in the novel (and even after the novel i kept retconning and retooling things over and over again, fip industries is an ongoing thing that will probably last my entire lifetime)

Disregarding Reality I (age 20)

the first iteration of disregarding reality, a humorous strip done in pencil and paper, a fairly short lived affair, lasting no more than 3 months. the entire premise of the comic was an MRA activist and a feminist live together, they are friends, they argue a lot. remember 2013 guys? back when this whole politics bullshit truly kicked off online? this was before gamer gate, mind you. but by that point i had seen more than enough of it on tumblr and i was like “someone should do some scathing commentary with wit and penache” and that someone had to be me. mainly inspired by commics like f@nboys and el goonish hive and a thousand billion others that were so popular back in those halcyon days.

i got bored of it pretty quickly and it wouldnt be until three years later than i would finally decide to re-start the project but until then...

Strangers in the forest (age 21)

here comes a rather productive era in my ouvre, ink and paper, based on a short story i wrote, its about an eldritch monster pretending to be human and a ghost girl, killed by her father. they have a dispute because the monster wants to eat the corpse of the girl but the ghost doesnt want to give up her bones because its the one thing that tethers her to the mortal plane. they eventually resolve their dispute. by this point i was actually, unironically trying my best to do comics which i felt looked professional.

Song of a nightmare (age 21)

another one based on a short story i wrote. ink and paper, a private detective wakes up in the middle of the night and sees a mermaid lying in bed next to him. he spends most of the comic trying to figure out how the hell is this possible. still one of my favourite ones and certainly one of my family’s and friends favourites as well. a rather poetic tale, strongly inspired by argentinian fiction and their propensity towards magical realism, i was reading a lot of cortazar back then.

Aika (age 21)

as you can tell i was on a fucking roll that year. ink and paper, this was a story based upon a simple and basic idea that i had in my mind for years and years. i always liked the concept behind the movie “the kid” where bruce willis mysteriously comes across himself as a kid. so of course one day i came up with the idea, what if you recieved a visit from your future self... but she was a woman?

this is probably the most aggresively trans story i ever wrote in my life, it is literally about a guy realizing they are trans and breaking down over it. here is the giant kicker, i did not realize at all what i was doing. i was completly unaware of what was going on here, i was still deep deep in the closet and not even realizing i was there. it really is astounding the honesty and the rawness with which i wrote this comic and it went all over my head. a perfect example of “im such a great ally lol”

oh also there is time travel i guess. my main impetus (beyond whatever my subconcious was forcing me to do) was my desire to make a complete clusterfuck of a story, i was a huge fan of homestuck, i had read fleek and demon, i wanted to do my own take on a hypercomplicated time travel puzzle plot. other things came out on top of it but i didnt noticed them. fucking hilarious

Hello Agatha (age 21)

a comedic strip about a wacky pixie dream girl having wacky adventures with her wacky friends, one of which is a man with a toilet for a head. what a gut buster, what a knee slapper!

there is not much to say about this one, wacky surreal comedy was always my favourite and so time and again i would try my hand at it but it is surprisingly hard to do!

The /co/ ventures! (age 20 - age25)

an ongoing project done in multiple mediums. i think i said more than enough about this in here and here. it was me practiscing comics, practiscing my humor and adding my tiny grain of sand to the 4chan culture. i am proud to say these comics were actually very well liked there and that i would be recognized without a name or signature of any kind, just on the strength of my style.

the vest kind of madness (age 22)

probably one of the projects in which i put the biggest amount of effort to make it look professional. traditional inks and digital colors. a crossover that i cant believe never happened in comics considering how obvious it is. Rac Shade, the changing man and delirium of the endless, the two flagship vertigo characters associated with madness. clearly a match made in heaven.

to this day im flabbergasted i seem to be the only one to think of this.

Disregarding Reality II (age 23)

another work where i have already spilled rivers of bytes explaining my thought process behind it. after having a no good, terrible, very bad day, finding my self aimless and without purpose, deep in denial and depression, i decided to give my self a big project to have something to get me out of bed every day. these three guys came from the depths of my mind to save me.

this time leaning a lot more on silly humor and surrealism than political commentary, still insanely proud of how much i managed to make this last, almost three years, well over 200 pages! and in here i found the inspiration and the creative energy to tackle all sorts of diverse projects of which we are about to see all about.

Mama Bird (age 24)

my masterpiece.

by far the best comic i ever did. a kid with a bird for a mom. hilarious, touching, heartbreaking. it was a concept that i had come up with when i was 21. back then it was supposed to be exclusively a humorous comic strip but then i found a dramatic angle for the story and that was when everything clicked into place. that was when i realized this was a comic i had to do. and i did it. it took me five months but it was well worth it. still insanely proud of this one

Soft boys (age 25)

a weird experimental little story where i decided to sit down and deconstruct one of the most popular superpowers. super elasticity. more akin to me just mashing my toys against each other than me trying to tell a serious story. i am actually really happy with some of the art here and some of the sequences presented. particularly the final one where a brick joke twenty pages in the making finally pays off.

Hexen Snatch (age 25)

a semi spinoff to my novel FIP industries, we focus on a side character that managed to survive after the events of the novel and how they’ll manage to survive further beyond that. insanely soaked by the magical world of pact by widbow i wanted desperatly to share my own take on magic, every page is accompanied by a little text where i expand upon the lore and the way magic is supposed to work on this world. i really like the prose on those snippets and the ideas they work almost more that the comic itself with which i was not happy at all when i was working on it. i didnt like the character design, i didnt like how the art in general was coming out, i didnt like the pacing of the story or how superficially we were getting to expore this world in the comic proper. i had to take a very long hiatus just to accumulate the will to finish the comic and once i did i feel it really petered off without much of a satisfying payoff.

on some level i blame the exhaustion and frustration that i came out of this comic with for the fact that i ended up quitting disregarding reality soon afterwards.

Maxplosive (age 26)

another project that has followed me across multiple mediums. came up with an idea for a videogame back in 2015. saved it on the back pocket for a while, used it as a story within a story on my novel fan.tastic, practisced a couple of animations with the characters and eventually decided that, if my skills at videogame making were not enough, i had at least more than poven myself as a comic artist so maybe that was the definitive medium in which this idea would have to exist.

the original idea was to tell the story in two parts, the first half would introduce the character and the videogame as if the comic was a playthrough of the game. all fun and childlike and innocent. then the second half was meant to explore the life of the main character as an adult, how being “a videogame protagonist” had ruined her body, her mental health and her life. i tried all sorts of weird stuff with the format here, using reciclable assets, static camera angles and generally presenting the whole thing as if it was a videogame.

sadly the project got too big for my breaches, i was fucking exhausted back then, swamped with a bunch of other projects, my job, other responsabilities, unsatisfied with the story and with no idea where to take it. eventually i got tired, decided to skip a day, then the day became a week and then the week became a month and by then i had to face the facts, i was just no longer able to continue the comic. and so i quit not only maxplosive but disregarding reality all together.

i still did the occasional comic here and then but it wouldnt be until the very end of 20-fucking-20 that i was finally inspired to tackle a new project, my newest one, my last one....

Lapsarian (age 27)

an interesting experiment, i decided to do the whole comic in one sit and then post it chapter by chapter on a weekly basis. a surprising result of this was that i managed to do in one month the same amoung of pages that would have taken me 5 months back when i started disregarding reality, is good to see that after al this time i still got it.

took me a while to get the hang of it again and find my own style once more but once i armed up it was smooth sailing for 40 pages all the way to the end. but what is this comic even about?

its... weird, with full disclosure and no shame, it is mostly a fetish story about big lizard creatures commiting vore. the milkman had already shown me that i could do those types of stories and no lighting would come from the heavens to strike me down so i said, why not as a comic? i like to think that beyond the fetish content it is still a decent story in its own right, an interesting feedback that i got from this is that people are suprised how earnest it is, one saying something like “this is the best pitch for a fetish that i was never interested in”

Conclussion:

looking back on this im surprised, turns out i was a lot more prolific and working a lot more regularly than i expected, in here are documented ten years of creative output that never seems to wane. it was fun to do the roundabout trip and see how my style, my technice and generally my work ethic evolved through the years. another nice thing to see is the multiple formats, the multiple tools and mediums i experimented with, i find myself constantly trying new things, new methods, new angles, new interesting ideas for how to make a comic (without even getting into what to make a comic about).

something i always knew about myself was that drawing is a fundamental part of who i am, it is something that just cant be taken away from me and that will always be a part of my life one way or the other, is good to see it so plainly, in black and white, on this list. here goes for what i might be able to do in the future

#art #writing #fip living life

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

Text

Everybody Gonna Talk - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader (Animal Kingdom)

GIF Credit: X

Author’s Note: ‘Scene’s We’d Like To See’ idea by Ms.@mandy23b - Sorry sweetie, I kinda twisted the idea a little so it’s not exactly as requested - but I hope you’ll forgive me!

Thank you for requesting 😘❤

Everybody Gonna Talk - Carly Pearce Disclaimer: Animal Kingdom characters not mine / Idea not mine / gifs not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: PDA is not Andrew’s strong point, this you know for certain. But every so often, even Andrew Cody can’t help wanting you...

Words: 3589

Warnings: Swearing

__________ You got the bad, I got the honey Got the whole town putting their money on you Breaking my heart and running, You got the goods, know how flaunt it Whatever you're doing is making me want it Baby, I'm falling If they got the time, we got the business If they can't stay on their side of the fence then, oh Let's give 'em a show now, whoa Kiss me underneath the streetlight glow Make sure they got a good view through them windows And watch the word get around Hey, people always gonna say anything they wanna say They don't know your touch could start a riot Be anywhere you wanna be, just as long as you're with me Ain't no need for us to keep this quiet Everybody gonna talk Everybody gonna talk anyways Just give me all you got No, don't you ever stop People always gonna talk Go ahead and let 'em talk Let 'em talk ---

The phone on the table beeped, to alert its owner to a text. It was just a burner phone, like all the rest had been – but there was one consistent number that showed up in all of them. Two, now. Andrew Cody corrected himself as he wandered across the room to it, picking it up slowly. Considering that the first number was Baz’s, and he was sitting in this room – the person on the other end of that text could only have been you. “What’s up Pope?” Andrew stared at the mobile for a moment before putting it down again, stifling a smile. He didn’t answer his brother, and Craig muttered something from the couch. Which Andrew also didn’t hear, heading outside. Darren, Jay, Craig and Baz all gave each other the same look – but the youngest three were the ones who scrambled upstairs fastest. What the hell could be going on? Andrew wandered around the side of the house cautiously, looking this way and that. No car and no person escaped the dart of his eyes – these days the police could be anywhere, and everything was unmarked. And he wasn’t just risking this, but risking you. And only when he thought it was safe, did he proceed down the road. His walk was slow, as if he was doing nothing more than passing the time of day – a leisurely stroll that just about anyone could be on. In the hope that maybe to other people he was exactly that – just anyone. Until he rounded the corner. You were sitting on the hood of your car, swinging your legs gently – smile on your face. “Hey stranger!” His lips twitched but he didn’t quite smile; “What are you doing here?” “Well I figured if you weren’t going to let me meet your family, I’d take matters into my own hands!” His eyes shifted from you again, down both streets, and along the parked cars. You’d already done all these checks – but Andrew could never be too careful. There wasn’t a soul in sight on this summer afternoon apart from the two of you, and yet he still had to confirm that for himself. “That’s never going to be a good idea.” You gave a shrug; “You gonna stop me?” Though you had no doubt it would be easy for him. “Here is close enough.” Andrew stopped that lazy walk of his just in front of you, legs brushing yours; “For now.” “I really don’t see what you’re hiding this for.” “When you meet them, I think you’ll understand perfectly.” He placed his hands either side of you, leaning in. You had to arch your body back a little to keep your eyes on his. His stare was always intense and haunting; even when it was gentle – dare you say loving – it saw right through you. You didn’t have secrets between you, you didn’t see how it was plausible to keep anything from a man like this. But then you were the secret, so there was that. Eventually you stopped leaning, smile almost teasing; “But I have to meet them first.” His body remained close to yours, and your tease didn’t make him pull away; “Don’t expect it any time soon.” You supposed that would mean suggesting something else, considering you’d driven all the way up here; “…So you want to take my car around the block?” His blink was slow, and his face scrunched a little, in what could only be described as confusion. But you supposed he really meant ‘now, why would that be a good idea?!’ There was something nearly electric about the buzz of his body this close to yours. Andrew wasn’t as emotionless as he looked – at least not behind closed doors. It had taken you a little while, but no holds barred intimacy - where you literally bared and gave each other everything – proved this man could feel nearly anything. And with him not even inches from you now – foreheads almost touching, all you could think about was the feel of his skin against yours – and it was driving you wild. “Heck – or we could just make out here?” The chuckle came out as more of an exhale, but it was Andrew Cody that was confident enough to initiate the kiss. And you tangled your hands in his hair as he lay you back against your car. “Who the hell is that-!?” Craig was nearly at full volume as the three of them peered out of the window (open window no less, considering the outside temperature) – crowding around for the best view. “SHHHH!!! They’ll hear us-!” Baz almost rolled his eyes as he also ascended the stairs; “What are you doing-!?” “Yo! Baz, you’ll know, does Pope have a girlfriend-!?” “What are you…?” Of course Baz was about the only one that knew you existed, but he hadn’t actually met you yet, and he was curious. Peaking around the window frame he indeed was faced with the scene of a woman sitting on a car talking to Andrew; that must have been you, just by how close he was getting. And you weren’t afraid of him – Baz could tell by your body language. In fact, anything but, you wanted him closer. It was when Andrew leant in to kiss you that the other three almost started screaming. Which attracted the unwanted attention of Smurf. “What on earth is going ON up there-!?” “Pope’s got a fucking girlfriend!!!” Craig cackled disbelievingly, making Baz give him a shove; “Well if you can get one Craig, I’m sure anyone can!” “Yeah – but POPE!?” “What!?” Smurf, who of course wanted to know exactly what they were all hollering about, pushed through them, to watch her eldest making out with a woman on the hood of a car. Baz very nearly cringed at the look that began to set in on her face, because livid didn’t even cover it. But, being Andrew’s best friend – and wanting to significantly lighten the mood… knowing if everyone was on side, the argument now bound to happen wouldn’t be so bad as expected - Baz wanted to take this into his own hands, and encouragingly whistled; Craig joined in “DAMN MAN! GET IT!” Andrew couldn’t have pulled away any faster if he’d have tried; hissing. “Fuck!” You wanted to laugh, but as usual he’d made you breathless. His blue eyes were wide, and he tilted his head away from the house, scowling at the tarmac instead, this time voice a little louder - “Fuck!” You sat up, and pulled him back to you; placing a kiss to his forehead and temple, before catching his lips to catch him of guard; “Don’t worry baby, I’m sure nothing like this ever goes as planned.” And you didn’t let him protest that. Pulling him even closer to you than he was before. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smirk against his lips as the cheering intensified. And if you pissed some people off in the meantime, so be it. *** It was always obvious to you that Andrew was not a PDA guy. He never would be, and that was always fine with you. His occasional touches, the way he would brush his hand over your shoulders, or accidently link his fingers with yours for five seconds when you walked together, grazing his cheek against yours – occasionally it’d be his lips and your heart would virtually skip - sometimes it would be the proximity within which he stood. Comfortable with you in his space – or protecting you by being in yours. Because Andrew had to know you were safe, it was about the only thing he really cared about. Or, his personal favourite, which was what he was doing this morning, just staring at you. You wondered how many could handle that. Sometimes it made you nervous, sometimes it made you smile so much your cheeks hurt. You wondered what it was; if he just liked watching you, if he was curious, if he was trying to figure you all out in his mind. All three? You’d reckon so. Sometimes you liked helping Smurf out in the kitchen, you weren’t sure how much she enjoyed this, but you decided that if you were helpful and sweet and gave her no reason to hate you (besides stealing Andrew – and she made enough jabs to let you know you were certainly stealing him) then it was on her. And by this point all the boys loved you; so she wasn’t about to get rid of you easily either. You thought she might never say it, but sometimes you thought she was happy to have another girl around – because it wasn’t like Baz and Cath lived here. So with everyone already gathered around the kitchen table, you were finishing up, smiling at their ridiculous morning chatter, when Andrew appeared. He stood at the far end of the kitchen counter, observant as ever. Those blue eyes never missed anything. It was a couple of minutes before he moved, slow steps down the counter – you’d already noticed him, but turned like you hadn’t. He made a motion with his hand to enquire whether or not you would like a drink, and you smiled gently with a nod. Again, the movement of his mouth wasn’t a smile, but it was something – and he brushed his arm across your back as he passed you, fingertips grazing across your waistline and making you bite your lip. You turned, and watched him pour you and himself a glass before he returned to you. Stopping just short of being too in your personal space, before sliding the glass to you. “Thank you.” He nodded, leaning against the counter, head tipping again. “What?” Although by the way Andrew’s hand moved across the surface and took yours, fingers overlapping one at a time, before he laced them together, you knew the answer to your question. His other hand reached out, tucking back stray strands of hair. He noticed it was something you did when he watched you often, whether a cute habit or nervous tick, but he sometimes liked doing it himself. You waited for him to come to you, and he did, slowly. There were mere inches between you, but Andrew made it feel like miles, before his lips touched yours. Everyone else was too involved in their conversations; as your grip on his hand tightened, your other hand winding around his waist to pull him closer. Eyes closed, he had the same idea, drawing you to him. The chatter ground to a halt, starting with Craig – who shut everyone else up. And soon cutlery was clattering to the floor or the table. Andrew!? PDA!?.... ANDREW!? They all turned to each other, as Andrew unlinked your hands to wind his other arm around you, to check everyone else was also seeing this. The kiss didn’t break, and he was the one to initiate the pressure changes, soft to rough and back again, how deep he wanted to go – you’d let Andrew break it too. And usually he did – then he’d pull away as if nothing happened. That’s the way he was. But when his lips were on yours, like this, you savoured every second of it – you wanted him closer, you wanted him so close that you didn’t know where you ended and he begun anymore. Though – preferably not in the kitchen of his mother’s house. And Andrew wasn’t that kind of man. Which only made you yearn for it more. “What the hell-!?!” Was the cry you heard from the table, but you didn’t bother paying attention to it. All that was running through your head was ‘Hell YES this is happening – and you’re gonna sit down, shut up and fucking witness it!’ Which came across as the smug smirk on your face. But it didn’t stop Andrew from kissing you. And you were proud of him for that. Smurf was probably sitting there freaking out once again but you also didn’t care about that. Liking or hating you was her decision. But Andrew was yours, and you were his. You moved your hand from the counter, raising it to them with a middle finger – directed as Craig specifically. Which raised a clamour from the table that you were satisfied with. This was thrilling and fast going to your head, and Andrew caught that – breaking from your lips, he kept his eyes on you – placing his forehead to yours. You closed your eyes once more, linking all your fingers with his. Sometimes, even this man could make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. How many others could there possibly have been?

You reckoned you already knew the answer to that. You. Only you. *** Months Later…

He was still asleep when you woke. Andrew’s sleep was usually broken by strange dreams, so if he was sleeping soundly or sleeping straight, you liked leaving him to it. God knows he needed it. You pressed a gentle kiss into his bare shoulder and left the bed – gathering your clothes and wandering on through into the bathroom. The house was quiet – but already opened up, light and airy meant someone was up. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was Smurf, you knew she didn’t exactly like the sway you had over her oldest, because it broke her hold on him, but she tolerated you – maybe had even secretly warmed to you. And for now, you’d take it. Besides, you’d been on her bad side enough to know that Andrew would defend you if necessary. You showered quickly, singing quietly to yourself, and dressed in a soft vest top and shorts. You’d seen the weather earlier, and it was going to get hot. Maybe you’d get to chill with him on the back patio today… maybe you’d all have a barbeque - you’d like that. Something quiet and peaceful, things like that were rare in this family. You were just finishing up in the mirror, letting your hair airdry, when the door creaked open. That was another thing about getting up before all the boys in this house; that lock was damn faulty. Not that the man behind the door really gave a damn about things like that, whether that be you or any of his brothers. Andrew blinked against the light, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. And making you wonder why he’d even bothered to get up yet. “Mornin’ babe.” “Mornin’.” His return of your greeting was groggy and he rubbed his eyes, pushing the door closed with his foot. “Did you sleep well?” Though awake he didn’t look like it “Mhm.” He shrugged, walking forward to place his head on your shoulder. You were happy enough to receive any kind of affection from him, and you ran a hand through his hair; “Honey, why did you wake up?” “Can’t sleep.” can’t go back to sleep more like. But then he pulled back, head tipped, look inquisitive “…Were you singing?” You very nearly blushed, “I was.” “…I was listening.” He kept staring at you like he was going to continue the sentence, but he didn’t. Not quite all the way to a compliment, but the sentiment was there. “Thank you.” You said it anyway, kissing his cheek. His face was scratchy against your clean, smooth skin – making your rub your cheek as you pulled back. But Andrew didn’t let you pull very far – you smelt clean, like your brand of body spray, but like all his shower products too. You smelt like him, like his things, and that did make him smile – which only made you smile to see one on his face. Before you giggled; “You need a shave!” “Oh? Yeah?” “Mhm!” You turned back to the sink, running the tap – and then rifling through the medicine cupboard for his razor. “Mm.” Andrew repeated the sound you had made, as if he’d just remembered something. He reached into the cupboard himself, for a little orange bottle clearly marked Andrew Cody - you raised a curious eyebrow as you watched him unscrew the cap and then dry swallow one, but said nothing else. It was like proving he’d done it and he felt better to do it with you. All you did was give him a gentle nudge of appreciation as you shut the tap off, but he knew exactly what that meant. “Alright…” You sat up on the bathroom sink, tipping your head to him, and tugging him a little closer to you; “Come here and I’ll sort this mess…” “This mess!?” To be honest he didn’t look too bad, but if you got to tease him and he was going to respond to you positively, then of course you were going to say something like that. This was the Andrew you knew, playful wasn’t the right word – but he was reaching for it. He was so close, and trying. You didn’t mind what Andrew was, as long as he was trying. He placed his hands on the side of the sink and leant forward, blue eyes still calculating – still trying to figure out what exactly was in your head. You ran a hand through his hair, with a little nod, biting your lips together. Andrew closed his eyes to the feeling for a moment – letting it run through him – he wasn’t so much touch starved as unaccustomed to having someone like you touch him. Affection still played out like a foreign term to him, and it certainly did to the rest of his family they still watched the two of you together like it was a mirage. But then there was you. And there was something even Andrew Cody couldn’t explain about you. You made him hold still as you evenly distributed shaving cream over his face, allowing him to once again savour the feeling of your fingertips over his skin. He’d never admit that out loud. He would certainly never ever act like this in front of anyone else – possibly not even Baz. But when you were alone together – you didn’t dare say he was a different person - but for a moment you were sometimes able to forget what he did for a living, and that the word psychopath was sometimes a little too liberally floated around. You took a deep breath, and Andrew went from subdued to completely motionless as you took a razor to his face; “Look I know some out there would like to take a blade to my throat, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do the job for them.” You very nearly laughed; “Was that humour, Mr.Cody?” “No.” And you thought that was pretty true. The razor moved smoothly over his skin, and with a little help from the warm water you had him nearly done. Except he decided to tip his head to look in the mirror and judge that for himself; “No! Don’t move, I’m going to cut you! Keep still…!” Then he did smile, nearly a smirk; “Shouldn’t let you near me with sharp objects if you have that little faith in yourself.” “Carful or I’ll do the job for them.” “You’ll probably do it better. At least you know what you’re doing. Just make it a quick cut.” Then he squinted slightly, “Could be a bit messy. And my mother would never forgive you.” “Ooh- Cold! I don’t think she forgive me anyway.” “You’re growing on her.” You grimaced, thinking that wasn’t what you’d call it, and retrieved a towel to dry his face. You stared at each other for a moment longer, and you placed your forehead to his; “Andrew, I love you.” You didn’t expect an answer, you hadn’t ever been given one yet. Maybe he’d never tell you those three words – but Andrew had his own way of doing so. He closed his eyes again, pushing his head a little firmer against yours, hands slid up your arms to frame your face. Then he leant in, lips to yours – and softly. That only made you pull him closer to you, arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. You weren’t about to let this moment go to waste; but Andrew had the same idea. He let you deepen the kiss; slow and gentle, but needy. The kind of make out session that would usually lead elsewhere, hands tangled in each other’s hair – but right now you were sitting on the edge of a sink. And the moment may well have passed. Andrew pulled your body flush to his; kiss becoming fervent, passionate – the kind that was going to leave you short of breath. Darren didn’t get the memo, and the bathroom door swung open again. You broke apart – facial expressions varying levels of annoyed. Darren didn’t fancy his chances with either – covering his face “OH, SHIT! THIS AGAIN-!?!” Andrew’s face was suddenly back to what you were used to around his family, that vacant coldness that scared nearly everyone. His hands had dropped to your sides, but he hadn’t left you. “You wanna get the fuck out.” “Y-Yeah-!” Darren backed away and took off down the corridor, only making Andrew sigh angrily; “Close the FUCKING DOOR why don’t ya-!?” You stifled a laugh as he sighed angrily. “Good morning Cody household.” Andrew huffed, picking you up off the sink, - not willing to share you with anyone just yet - and carrying you back towards his bedroom, which had you internally ecstatic; “Not on my watch.”

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where-theres-smoak-2 · 4 years ago

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Riverdale 5x02 Review.

So I’m really late with this review I know, to be honest I was undecided about whether I was even going to write it because well this wasn’t my favourite episode and I try to avoid being too negative and this review did feel like I was being very negative and repeating alot of the issues that I had brought up in other posts and reviews but ultimately I decided that I had said I was going to review Season 5 and despite it not being my favourite episode I thought there were still some really great moments in there which I would like to talk about but overall I do feel like there were some plotlines that were too rushed and just not fleshed out properly. Also I can’t watch episode 3 until tomorrow morning where I am it’s like 1 am at the moment so figured I’d kill the time by writing this. But anyway lets get into it and as always these are just my own opinions you are welcome to disagree but please be respectful and obviously there are spoilers.

Archie

So first I want to talk about Archie’s storyline. So here’s the thing I kind of feel like Archie has had PTSD since the blackhood shot his dad all the way back in season 2. I think each new bad thing that happened only contributed to it, going to jail and being forced to fight in the underground ring, being attacked by the bear and nearly dying, the whole survive the night thing with penelope, then his dad being killed by a reckless kid. Just one of those things would be traumatising let alone all of them at once. I also feel like he has never really dealt with any of that trauma properly until this episode when it all just spills over. I think KJ did an amazing job with this storyline. I think alot of his pain this episode stems from his father’s death. Archie is having all these big milestones that he should be sharing with his father but can’t. I mean he’s just had prom without his dad there, graduation is coming up and so Archie who already misses his dad is probably missing him even more. Then on top of that he gets this video tape that takes him right back to when he felt the weakest and he has to confront all of the anger and pain that wells back up again. To start wth Archie tries to work through the feelings with physical excerise, punching his boxing bag or going for a run, working out in his gym but when that doesn’t help he starts to have angry outbursts. I mean Archie has alot on his plate at the moment, not only is he trying to work through his feelings about his dad not being there for these big moments , he doesn’t know yet if he’s even going to be able to graduate with his friends and then there’s the whole having feelings for betty and veronica and that mess plus his mum asking if he wants to write the letter for the guy who killed his dad. I think Archie said it best when Betty asked him if something was wrong and he replied what isn’t wrong. Also I’m sorry to say this but a really hated that scene. Not because of Archie snapping at Betty but because it made me a little irritated at Betty. I mean Betty at this point knows that Veronica found the song Archie wrote for Betty and that he doesn’t know if he’s going to graduation and she’s standing there with her arms wrapped around the guy she chose over Archie asking him if there is something wrong, I don’t know it just seemed like both an insenistive and kinda dumb thing for Betty to say. I want to make it clear that I’m not hating on Betty here we all have flaws and I think its more an issue with the writing than anything else but yeah that scene irritated me a bit. Also it did show us that whilst Veronica is still very much sticking to the lets pretend everything is fine plan Archie clearly is not comfortable with the plan and it does seem to me like he feels alot of guilt about lying. In my opinion Archie is the kind that whilst he makes mistakes he likes to own up to them and tell the truth so not telling Jughead the truth doesn’t feel right to him and I think this is frustrating him and the only reason he hasn’t come clean is because of Betty. Another issue I had with Archie’s storyline this episode is something that I’ve talked about before several times and it’s one of the shows biggest flaws in my opinion which is the storylines and characters not crossing over at all. I mean its pretty obvious in this scene that Archie is struggling at the moment and you’d think that having seen this his friends would reach out to him and try to support him and yet just like last episode there is practically no interaction between the core four in this episode. I mean even something as simple as one of them trying to ring Archie and him not picking up and then one them saying they are worried about him would do, something as little as a couple of lines of dialogue to show that his friends are concerned for him but instead it just came across as his friends either didn’t care about what he was going through or were too wrapped up in their own lives to notice that Archie needed them.

One of my favourite scenes was when Mr Augustine comes to see Archie and ask him to write the letter for his son instead and Archie makes that speech about how he understands that his son made a mistake when he hit his dad and that it was something Archie could have done himself but that the one thing Archie wouldn’t have done was keep driving. I do think this is true like I said before Archie is someone who will own up to and try to make his mistakes right. I think this scene also really showed how much pain Archie is in and how he is struggling with forgiving the son despite understanding that the son had made a mistake. I just think KJ’s acting in this scene was soo good and he hit the right balance between anger and pain.

Another scene that I thought was really heartbreaking was when Archie comes home and finds his mum watching the tape. I just felt so bad for Mary seeing what Fred and Archie went through because of the Black Hood and her realising just how much trauma her son was keeping inside. My heart really broke for her when she said ‘I need to know what’s going on inside of you.’ This poor woman can see how much her son is struggling but he’s keeping it all inside and I know how scaring it is when you know someone is in pain but they are hiding it and you don’t know what’s going on inside their head. Also I find it so sad that Archie still feels like he was a coward and that he let his dad down. It’s after this conversation that Archie really goes over the edge though and smashes up the tv and then his uncle shows up and I think his uncle knew whated he needed, that he needed to get the anger out however I’m not so sure the method of letting Archie beat the living crap out of him was the best but I spose it seemed to work and again it really wrenched at my heart when Archie finally broke down crying hugging his uncle also I did get chills when the camera panned to the punching bag and you see that its covered in blood where Archie has been hitting it so much that his hands have bled.

Ok so now I want to talk about my absolute favourite part of the episode, Archie’s letter to the judge. I full on teared up when I heard it like everything about it was perfect and I just know Fred would have been so proud of his son for writing it but the one line that really made me cry was the line ‘Fred Andrews believed in lifting up those around him and in second chances.’ If you could sum up Fred Andrews in one sentence it would be this one because Fred was always supporting those around him and trying to help them achieve their best.

Charles and The Auteur Mystery

If Archie’s storyline was my favourite of the episode then this was my least favourite. My biggest issue with it was how rushed it was also the reveals were really underwhelming in my opinion. So this sotryline is kicked off with Betty and Jughead getting a call at 3am from Bret telling them he has information and asking to be moved to Solitary. But when Betty and Jughead go to visit him the next day and discover he’s been brutally murdered. At first they think it was David who killed him but then David himself shows up dead in what looks like an apparent suicide. But then the mystery thickens when Donna calls Betty afraid and on the run because someone is killing the Stonies and tells Betty that Joan is dead too and she thinks she is next and that it is connected to them trying to kill Jughead. Betty of course is having none of it and puts the phone down on her. But the next day she trys to get a hold of Joan and finds out that she really was killed by someone bashing her head in with a rock. So we reach the reveal of Charles being a serial killer. I full on rolled my eyes at this reveal. I hated it no other way to put it I just straight up hated and not just because I really like Charles’ character and seeing his relationship with Jughead and Betty grow but because it made little sense and wasn’t properly explored. To me it almost seemed like they got to this episode and then suddenly remembered that plot point where Charles visited Chic in prison and thought crap how do we explain that oh I know lets just have him murder some people in this episode and say he’s a serial killer that’s shocking right? Except it wasn’t shocking at all. Especially when by this point in the episode Hermosa had killed three people and Penelope had wiped out at least six people who happened to be her own family all because they weren’t letting her daughter get her own way. And then they expect me to be shocked that Charles killed two people and asked his boyfriend to kill a third. Also at least Charles had a fairly decent motive unlike Penelope, he killed the Stonies because they had tried to hurt his little brother and pin it on his little sister and most of them got away with it and he killed David because he was helping Bret but I also think that him letting Jelly Bean have access to those tapes could have played a part into it, I mean it is like Charles says he only kills horrible people who hurt the ones that he loves, and he does seem to be very protective of his siblings, it’s sweet in a very dark twisted kind of way. But like I said this plotline had no build up at all. I mean the whole Stonie’s murder mystery was started and ended in this episode they could have done it so much better just by moving things around a little. If they had revealed that Joan had been killed in an earlier epsiode for example. Maybe right after Jughead discovered the tape of masked Betty hitting masked Jughead over the head. How much creepier would have been for them to see that tape and then right after find out that Joan had been killed by a rock to the head? Not only would it have heighted the mystery of the tapes but it would have introduced the new mystery of who was killing the preppy’s sooner. Then they could have had Bret die 5x01 after Betty and Jughead went to see him they could have gotten that phone call they got in this episode and then found out he had been killed. Then have the final murder have David happen in this episode and the reveal that Charles was the one behind it. The mystery would only have been a few episodes longer but at least it woul dhave given us as an audience time to one get invested in the mystery and two actually wonder who could be behind it like we did with the video tapes. Also another thing that disappointed me was the lack of reaction from Charles’ family, like they hardly react at all, we don’t see Alice and FP’s reaction to the news either so again that was really underwhelming. But I think the thing that bothers me the most about this particular storyline is that if you took it out it would make no difference to the plot. Like this plot point of Charles being a serial killer changed nothing and was so unnecessary. But it’s ok I know a way they can fix this (just as a disclaimer they are not going to do this but its a fun idea so) I am chosing to believe that there is another twist to the story and that actually Charles is a victim and actually innocent in this, I’m choosing to believe that the Farmies, through Chic hypnotised Charles to kill the Stonies and David because Evelyn was working with them in the plot to kill Jughead and frame Betty and when they heard Bret was talking to Betty and Jughead they decided to tie up some loose ends and get rid of the Stonies. Also they wanted to get revenge on Betty and Alice for their roles in Edgar’s death and Evelyn’s imprisonment and so decided taking Charles away from them was the right price for them to pay. Yes I know it’s got some holes in it but I still think it’s a better storyline than the one we got so I’m sticking with it. In all seriousness though despite not likely how his character turned out I do hope we see Charles again. It is possible that maybe a little down the line they’ll give him a redemption arc I mean in Riverdale is murder really that terrible of a crime? I think the saddest part for me about this reveal is that I feel like Charles played a big part in helping Betty overcome her fears around having the serial killer genes because she knew her big brother had them too and he had his stuff together and was a respected FBI agent and if he could live a normal life and not go around killing everyone because he has these genes then she can too. Now they’ve taken that away from her which is probably going to make her doubt again and make her feel like a ticking timebomb. I just don’t think its necessary to make every person who comes into these characters lives evil. Also it is a rehash of the whole evil brother thing that they did with Chic and I said way back when Charles first started acting a little shady that I hoped they wouldn’t do a repeat of that storyline because that’s just boring and that’s exactly what they did. It would have just been so much more interesting to have him be morally grey but not a full out phsycho who kills people. Anyway I think I have ranted on long enough about this topic so lets move on to another underwhelming plot reveal.

Jelly Bean is behind the tapes. See this is one that really should have been shocking. But again the way it was written just made it seem so underwhelming. Like the reason for her doing it was so weak, she didn’t want Jughead to go to college. Also I wasn’t hyped on the way the characters just shrugged it off like she full on terroised the whole town not just Jughead she brought Archie’s trauma back up causing him to pretty much have a break down this episode so she better march herself over to the Andrews house with a really good apology and start saving up to buy them a new TV because that’s the least she could do. Instead she just says she’s sorry to FP and gets a hug. I get the whole message they are saying here that Riverdale has created this situation were kids are doing really dark things but because of the amount of trauma they are put through they have got to the point when they themselves don’t even recognise when they are doing something really dark. I just think it could have been better written. Especially because other than Jelly Bean we didn’t know who any of the other people are in those videos. They mention that she had been hanging out with Ricky again and he was the one who started helping her with the tapes, they could have easily put a scene or two in where we saw them hanging out together even if it was just quick shots of them in the background of other scenes like we spot them sitting together in a booth at Pop’s. At least that would have given some build up to the reveal but again like Charles’ it kinda came out of nowhere. Also is it just me or are there a lot of people invested in what’s going on with Jughead I mean there’s Jelly Bean making the tapes, Charles murdering people for even daring to attempt to hurt a hair on his baby brother’s head and Veronica who pretending to still be with her ex to spare Jughead the pain of knowing his girlfriend cheated on him. Look I love Juggie too I’m just not sure he’s worth this much trouble especially as they are doing more to make his life more complicated than making things better for him as they are intending. Come on guys Juggie is a big boy you’ve got to let him deal with his own problems. Also as a side note I did find it kind of funny that when Jughead decided to tell FP about Jelly Bean he took his alcoholic Father for drinks, though it does look like whilst Jughead is drinking alcohol FP looks like he’s drinking water.

Blossom and Lodge Family Drama

Ok these two plotlines I’ll be honest I didn’t care a whole lot about it was just kind of the same old stuff we’ve seen before. I did like the Lodge woman all banding together and standing up to Hiram and I love that Hermione finally grew a backbone and decided to divorce Hiram. But I must confess their plot to overthrow Hiram and the way they went about it was kind of dark I mean Hermosa literally arranged to have their own father beat up. I do think that maybe Hermosa has an ulterior motive to wanting to overthrow Hiram and if she sticks around in season 5 I could see her becoming an even worse villan than Hiram though it does seem like from some interviews with KJ that Hiram is going to be taking all that extra time to make Riverdale even more of a mess than it is already so we’ve got that to look forward to.

As for the Blossom storyline again I didn’t care a great deal about it. I think it’s sweet that Cheryl is trying to right the wrongs her family has committed over the years by creating sanctuary land for the Uktena people. I also find it hilariuosly over the top that when they refuse and Cheryl tells her mother her mother’s respose is to just straight up kill them all. Especially as Penelope usually only does something if it benefits her and I’m not really sure how this will benefit Penelope unless it’s just an oppurtunity to revenge kill the family. Again I feel like there is probably more to this plotline and that it is somehow going to come back to bite Cheryl in the butt but only time will tell. Other than that I don’t really have much to say about these storylines.

Theories for episode 3

So my theories for 5x03 are

1) FP will leave Riverdale with Jelly Bean to protect her from the town’s corruption and hopefully get her plenty of therapy.

2) Betty will finally tell Jughead about her kiss with Archie. I really hope she is the one to tell him and that he doesn’t hear it from someone else. And I also really hope that he does find out because it’s starting to seem like he won’t and I don’t think that’s fair to Jughead and honestly will make me think less of Betty.

3) Betty and Jughead will break up realising that with the distance they won’t make it especially as the trust between them has broken due to her kissing Archie again, if he can’t trust her when they are in the same town then how can they make it work when they are apart.

4) Betty and Archie still won’t talk to each other and that’s gonna really annoy me. I mean they’ve only been friends since childhood so why would they need a one on one scene right.

5) Kevin and Fangs might finally confirm their relationship.

6) There are going to be lots of moments that are going to make me cry.

7) There will be no mention of Charles or the effect him being a serial killer had on the family at all.

8) Cheryl will be arrested for her uncle and maybe the rest of her family’s murders.

9) There will be lots of references to Fred and maybe Archie saying goddbye at his grave before leaving for the army and that’s defo going to make me cry.

10) The last few minutes of the episode will be a flashforward of Betty with the gun and will set up the new mystery.

So that’s it for now, I’m gonna be staying out of the Riverdale tag now as like I said earlier I’m not going to be able to watch the episode for hours yet where I am it doesn’t come on to Netflix til about 8-10am in the UK.

#riverdale #riverdale review

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