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swimmingleo · 3 years

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Harry Styles and Two Loves - A love that dare not speak its name.

‼️Disclaimer I am in no way an English literature expert or student for that matter and can barely organize my thoughts but I’ll try my best. If something doesn’t make sense or is regretful thinking please tell me‼️

Basically Harry is a fervent reader that does not limit himself to Buk*wski and Mur*kami though for some reason he loves to bring up those dudes. Queer literature seems to play a big role when it comes to his inspiration and I love that about his music. A good example is his Shakesqueer Sweet Creature madness. But another one that I hold close to my heart are the parallels he draws with Alfred Douglas’ poem, Two Loves.

Here is the full poem. Give it a read if you can because I won't break it down verse by verse for this post sorry :(

To make it short, the poem is about the narrator (let's say Douglas) wandering in a garden where he meets a young man that turns out to be his lover. For context, Alfred Douglas was very much queer and in a romantic relationship with Oscar Wilde. Both developed their own coded language to express their love and ''sexual tendencies'' through their art (been this way foreverrr will we ever leaarn). However they were not always so sneaky about it and Two Loves in particular was so in your face that it was used against Wilde to prove his homosexuality in trial. He did get away with it this time. Here is his defense. Blueprint of denials. No iPhones at the time.

In Two Loves, two different personifications of love introduce themselves to Douglas and his lover:

The first love is loud and cheerful and sings about pretty women and men that love the said pretty women.

The second love is discreet, almost erased by the other’s presence but is beautiful and draws the attention of the narrator.

Obviously the first love is Heterosexuality, the one that is openly praised by society and the second is Homosexuality who is bullied into silence by Heterosexuality if he tries to speak. The poem ends with Homosexuality saying "I am the love that dare not speak its name." Yeah. And isn’t that the story of H’s career.

HS1 opens with MMITH which ends on "We don’t talk about it, it’s something we don’t do". And from there follows SOTT, "We don’t speak enough". And right after we get the very loud, very explicit and very well documented Carolina. So far the album narration goes "There is something painful going on but we can’t talk about it, I say ‘we’ because there is a you and I and yeeEEAAH THIS GIRL I MET ONCE GETS A WHOLE SONG THE WORLD DESERVES TO KNOW HOW GOOD SHE FEELS FOR A LADDY LAD LIKE ME ALSO HER NAME IS TOWNES YOU CAN CHECK FOR YOURSELF SEE IF SHES REAL I LOVE REAL WOMEN AS IN WOMEN THAT EXIST". Heterosexuality is loud and sings about pretty women right.

But then, THEN we get Two Ghosts. Which is the center piece of this whole post. I mean, the title... Two Ghosts//Two Loves Two hearts in one home ? Sick.

The parallel that hits the most is the physical description that is made of Douglas’ lover and of Homosexuality (which are technically two different characters in the poem).

Douglas’ lover / Homosexuality

Same lips red / Same eyes blue / Same white shirt

Red were his lips / His lips were red / His eyes were clear as crystal / His large eyes were strange with wondrous brightness / White as the snow / His cheeks were wan and white

In Douglas’ poem, it is meant to be understood that the young boy he meets first, his lover, is related to Homosexuality through their physical appearance. Douglas’ love is therefore inherently queer. With Two Ghosts, I’ve always wondered why Harry chose specifically to point out a white shirt as it comes across a bit generic and not really personal yk? But if you compare it to Two Loves, it checks out the recurrent descriptive color scheme: red, blue and white. In both works, red are the lips, blue are the eyes, and white is the ~envelopp. RIGHT. I suppose Harry didn’t feel like describing his lover with pale white skin since it’s brown with lemon over ice when under summer skies so he went with a plain white shirt instead.

I’m not going through a whole analysis of Two Ghosts yet I can safely say that it deals with unspoken words. Not saying things is a recurrent theme in H’s songwriting but within the album, Two Ghosts is the first song that deals with it through the undeniable prism of romantic love. Right before with Carolina, H had no issue being straightforward and wanted to "scream and shout it out", but with Two Ghosts he’s tongue tied and doesn’t say what he really means. Communication issues go on with the following track Sweet Creature, btw may I just:

But oh, Sweet Creature (!), Sweet Creature

Would he […] cry "O sweet creature!", Othello

I cried "Sweet youth…, Two Loves

Queer Literaturry is going wild(e).

Expanding this post with Sweet Creature allows me to speak about the garden metaphor. In lyric poetry, the expression of emotions is often done through nature. It is a process that Harry seems pretty fond of when singing about love (ie Olivia, Adore You, WS, Canyon Moon and Sunflower are good examples) but it’s way more subtle with TG and SC. In Two Ghosts, nature is the moon, and in Sweet Creature it’s the garden.

Would you look at that, Two Loves happens to combine both:

Moon dances over your good side and this was all we used to need, Two Ghosts

Running through the garden oh where nothing bothered us, Sweet Creature

Flowers that were stained with moonlight / Alone in this fair garden, till he came unasked by night, Two Loves

For Harry, the night is where the moon enhances his lover’s beauty, when it’s just the two of them and they need nothing more than each other. The garden is where they run (free?away?), once again alone, unbothered. For Douglas, Homosexuality took form and began to occupy the garden at night, while Heterosexuality who thrives in the golden light (um I- nvm) wasn’t paying attention.

It is also interesting to note that Homosexuality is associated with the night but also with death. And he’s super pale. So like… A ghost ? ANYWAY.

The garden in Two Loves is where love happens, it is a piece of heaven. It’s elevated on a hill and untamed with flowers of various colors growing everywhere. There is sunshine and moonlight, there are "pools that dreamed" and by pools I assume the author means vernal pools which are habitats where flowers grow and oh look over there:

Nice ruffles on that white shirt by the way. Very Victorian.

Two Ghosts, 2017 Mularry so true

So yeah. I don’t want to go into full analysis mode but I find it all interesting. Once again, Two Loves holds a great significance regarding the Oscar Wilde’s lore, and Harry is probably very familiar with anything Wilde related (don’t even start) and by that I think about the Carnation business.

I’ll just conclude with that quote from Maurice by E.M Forster whom I love very much:

"I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort."

#song analysis #idk if it has been widely discussed already #ive done a bit of research and i haven't found anything but if you've seen similar posts dont hesitate to pass me the links #anyway first try at this kind of rambling i hope it's ok eek #but really I love this parallel or at least the idea i make of it lol #harry styles #two ghosts #queer inspo #my analysis

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amerrierworld · 4 years

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Curtain. (v)

Carol (2015) fan fiction

Pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Word Count: 1,623

The first day.

Carol jolted awake to the sound of her bedroom door slamming open. She was burrowed deep under the covers, enjoying the warmth when a tiny mass suddenly hurled itself onto the bed.

"Mommy! You have to get up! It's first day!"

Carol groaned as Rindy pulled the covers off her face. It was barely 6am, according to the clock. Rindy didn't start until 9.

"Nerinda, it is far too early to be up."

"But we have to get ready. You always take foreverrr."

Carol gasped in feigned offense, grabbing Rindy and burying the two of them under the covers. Rindy giggled as Carol squeezed her tightly.

"Mommy! It's breakfast time we have to get up!!"

Carol shut her eyes tightly, moving her head away from Rindy's fingers as they tried to pry her eyelids open.

"Mommy's not here, she's sleeping, come back later," she said in a robot voice.

"Mom!" Rindy yelled, exasperated but still giggling. She wiggled her way out of the nest of blankets and jumped off the bed to turn on the lights. Carol sighed and rubbed her eyes, knowing there was no other option but to admit defeat. A part of her, though exhausted, was somewhat pleased with Rindy getting her up so early. It meant a slow morning.

"Do you want pancakes?"

"Pancakes! But that's a weekend breakfast?!" Usually they had toast or cereal. Pancakes were saved for lazy days, but Carol was feeling just as giddy. To hell with it, pancakes on the first day. Why not?

"Shh, Rindy. Don't tell anyone," Carol winked, sending the six year old into a fit of jittery giggles, again. Carol could get used to that sound, even at 6 in the morning.

She threw on a robe and let Rindy pull her down the stairs to the kitchen. Pancakes were easy to whip up, and soon Rindy was munching away happily on the pancakes, while Carol calmly sipped a cup of coffee.

"Are you excited for school today?"

"Mhm!" Rindy said around a mouthful.

"I'm glad to hear it, dear," Carol said, smiling. "I'll be there to pick you up at three."

"Mkah," she mumbled with her mouth stuffed.

"Don't speak with your mouthful, Nerinda, alright?"

Her daughter nodded, and soon she was dressed, bouncing with excitement and flailing on Carol's bed as Carol got dressed herself, slowly. At this rate, Rindy would be out cold by the time lunch rolled around.

Carol pulled up in the parking lot of the elementary school around 8:45, and ushered Rindy out the car, holding her hand as she led her six-year old through the familiar halls of the school. She greeted Robichek with a kind wave as she passed the kindergarten classes, and made her way to Rindy's new Grade 1 classroom.

It was decked out with colourful shapes of cut out paper decorating the wall, posters of their ABCs, numbers, and a list of classroom rules at the front by the chalkboard.

Every desk had a name tag, and Rindy quickly found hers, close to the front. Her daughter settled in, legs tapping against the floor. There were only one or two other students seated already.

"Oh, Carol! How wonderful," a kind voice spoke from the doorway. There stood Mrs. Morgan, who had donned some business casual clothes rather than the usual tracksuit.

"Claire, it's nice to see you," Carol said, greeting the gym teacher with a polite hug. "Rindy's been incredibly excited to have class with you this year."

"That's wonderful to hear," the redhead beamed, smiling at Rindy who giggled in her seat. "I'm excited to teach these first graders more than just jumping jacks. It'll be a nice change."

"Harge and I've been thinking the same thing," Carol said, as more kids came into the room with parents waving hasty and tear-filled good-byes.

"Oh, and how is Mr. Aird these days?"

Beats me. "Oh, he's doing quite well. By the way, I've been meaning to check, I've signed Rindy on for an after class program this week, just for Wednesday because I can't pick her up on time, you see. We assumed it was phys ed at first, but-"

"Nope, none of those teams have been filled out yet. When we do, I'll make sure to get Rindy to sign up. But right now there's nothing for gym after school. It's probably that new art program we've got."

"Right," something in Carol's chest leaped. "Art."

After a quick goodbye, Carol headed out of the school, saying hi to a few familiar staff along the way and stopping to check in with the front desk about Rindy's registration for the program. Rindy's name was on the list, but could come and go whenever Carol or Harge wanted her to. There was no credit or reward attached to attending consistently, much to her relief. She'd rather prefer to keep Rindy with her when she could.

A flash of a brunette in green caught her eye just as the bell rang while she stood in the front foyer. A lithe figure had turned the corner into one of the smaller hallways, carrying boxes and just a little too out of sight for Carol to identify her.

The bumbling of small footsteps racing across the school to find classes made her come back to reality. She wrung her hands together and shook her head, committing herself to removing the silly fantasy of the dainty photographer as she headed out to her car.

At the request of Mrs. Robichek, Therese had arrived early to help set things up and settle in the new kids. She carried boxes, shuffled desks and got to be friendly with all the new teachers who noticed her working and said a friendly hello. Mr. Tucker avoided her ardently, and she didn't mind.

"You must be the new art teacher," A small redheaded woman came up to her, and Therese smiled. Hardly a teacher but okay.

"Sure am, Therese Belivet," she introduced herself. The handshake was firm and polite, one shake.

"I'm Claire Morgan, I teach gym to the younger tyrants around here, and Grade 1 this year," she said. Thank god, thought Therese. She seemed a lot more approachable than Tucker did.

"Nice to meet you," Therese nodded.

"So, you think you're ready for the school year to kick you in the butt? That's how it was with me when I first started."

"Oh, sure. I'm hardly a teacher compared to you all, I just need to babysit the stragglers after school," Therese chuckled, shaking her head.

"Nonsense, Miss B. You are most definitely a part of the staff now." Mrs. Morgan leaned in closer. "Plus, I heard you have to share Tucker's classroom. You've got everyone on your side because that shit's not easy."

Therese blinked and smiled at the woman's humorous quips, Miss B. I like that.

"But anyways, welcome to the team, Therese! I'm assuming you're not sticking around during the day?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't. I'll go home for a bit and prep, and then come back near 3:00. Mr Tucker doesn't seem to like it when I'm around him, so I'll wait until the last possible second to get in."

"Good plan," and then the woman was off, ushering some older kids to get to class. Therese smiled; she could get used to this.

There were meant to be 20 kids registered for 'after-school art', but only 11 showed up on the first day. Therese clutched her clipboard as she went through attendance. The remaining 9 all had little P's in the row of their names; their parents had signed them out and picked them up at the regular times.

"Hello everyone," Therese began, feeling a surge of confidence as the classroom quieted and seemed to be attentive. She wrote Miss Belivet on the chalkboard in quick cursive and introduced herself.

"I'm Miss Belivet, but you can call me Miss B. I'll be teaching you art during this program; everyday we'll have a new activity or craft, and you can participate as much as you want to."

That seemed to land nicely. There were a few older grade students who seemed hesitant and bored to be there but had no other choice. So, Therese pulled up an empty desk to the front of the room and set one of her new supply boxes on top; revealing new sets of brushes, acrylic paints, and paper.

The kids almost immediately shot up and crowded around the box; exclaiming in awe at the brand-new professional-looking boxes and tools, which they clearly hadn't seen during all their time in elementary school, since majority of this was cheaper, discounted things that Therese had to afford.

"Ah, ah! Back to your seats," Therese scolded, shooing them away. "First some ground rules; these are important supplies, they're new. So, obviously, I'd ask all of you to be extra careful with them, not lose any pieces, and always tell me if you break one of them, okay?"

Eager faces nodded and Therese beamed, her heart fluttering with nerves and excitement.

"First day; we're going to make folders to keep all your artworks in one place. You can pick whatever paper and colour or paint the cover however you feel. But we'll also make sure to put your name on it, sound good?"

She let the older grades show the younger kids how to use scissors and glue, and as the kids settled in with their own crafts, -pencil crayons already flailing everywhere- she pulled out an old sketchbook of her own. She hadn't touched it since her college days, but seeing the children draw and paint to their delight gave her enough inspiration to start again.

A/N: I felt bad about how long it’s been since I’ve updated this story, so I decided to post 5 and 6 together! Hope you liked it friends.

#carol #carol aird #carol fanfiction #carol movie #carol (2015)#therese #therese belivet #carol x therese #carolxtherese #patricia highsmith #the price of salt #todd haynes #cate blanchett #rooney mara #wlw #lgbt #modern au #fanfiction #merry writes

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