#only the purest textual canon in this list

[deathgatesideblog]

Top 10 “Haplo loves Alfred” quotes, ranked

Under the read more, exactly what it says on the tin. This is obviously a non-inclusive list, and honestly there are so many quotes that I’m sure I forgot some good ones, but, y’know, here ya go. 

10. Serpent Mage, Haplo compares the color of his runes to Alfred’s eyes.

The sigla were as yet only faintly visible– a blue as pale and weak as the eyes of that fool Sartan, Alfred.

A pretty incredible quote which reminds us how much Alfred is on Haplo’s mind. There’s basically no reason for Haplo to be thinking about Alfred in this context; Haplo just sees his faded runes and the comparison he comes up with is Alfred’s eyes. This gets the tenth spot because while it IS pretty wild that Haplo would make this comparison with regards to something as important to his life and even identity, it IS with his weakened, faded runes, and he DOES still manage to do it as insultingly as possible.

9. Hand of Chaos, Haplo’s journal entry.

What do you think of your power for good now, Alfred? …As you fight for your life in the Labyrinth. I’ll tell you what I think of it. I think it’s a lot like you– weak and bumbling. Although I must admit that you came through for us in our fight against the serpents– if that was you who turned into the serpent mage, as Grundle claimed. But when it came to standing up for yourself against Samah (and I’ll lay odds that you could have taken the bastard), you ‘couldn’t remember the spell.’

Another classic “Haplo tries to insult Alfred and inadvertently reveals how much he thinks about him” line, here. Not only is there the comparison to a power for good to oppose the dragon-snakes-- sorry, a “weak and bumbling” power, my bad-- but even larger to me is Haplo’s insistence that Alfred could definitely have beaten Samah in a battle of magic. That’s SAMAH, universally considered to be THE most powerful Sartan.

8. Elven Star, Haplo feels an affinity towards Alfred.

The Patryn had met only one Sartan before—the bumbling man of Arianus who called himself Alfred Montbank. And though Haplo hadn’t recognized it at the time, he came to realize that he felt an affinity for Alfred. Deadly enemies, they were strangers to the rest of the world—but they were not strangers to each other.

It’s a bit unclear to me whether the text is saying that Haplo realized he felt this affinity during Elven Star or not until later books. He also comments in Elven Star that Alfred put him to sleep during Dragon Wing, and then is surprised when Alfred tells him this again in Into the Labyrinth, so it’s possible that some of the narration is meant to be Haplo’s point of view after the full series, rather than during Elven Star specifically.

That being said, if this is meant to be his thought process during Elven Star, it’s pretty brilliant that he already admits to feeling this affinity for Alfred already, even before their mind swap in Fire Sea. Plus, it makes his scoffing at Alfred’s line about feeling a kinship towards him even funnier.

Either way, though, it’s fantastic line about how close Haplo feels to Alfred, and in such poetic terms, too!

7. Into the Labyrinth, Haplo worries about Alfred.

“And to think I’ve been worrying about you in the Labyrinth, picturing you dead or worse. And all this time you’ve been here.” He waved his hand. “Perfectly safe.” “You were concerned about me?” Alfred asked, his wan face brightening. Haplo made an impatient gesture. “Of course I was concerned. You can’t walk across an empty room without causing some sort of catastrophe.”

Yet another “Haplo disguises how much he cares about Alfred by insulting him, and it really doesn’t work” moment, and by Into the Labyrinth the disguise really, really isn’t working anymore. Oh, of course Haplo, you were just concerned because Alfred is clumsy, that’s why you were worrying about him and picturing him dead! In the words of The Princess Bride: “[He] wasn’t nervous! ...Well, maybe [he] was a little concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”

6. Fire Sea, Haplo is entranced by Alfred’s dancing.

The feet that could not take ten steps without falling over themselves were suddenly executing intricate steps with extraordinary grace and delicacy. His face was grave and solemn, wholly absorbed in the music. He accompanied himself with a grave and solemn song. Hands wove the runes in the air, his feet replicated the pattern on the floor. Haplo watched until he discovered some wayward part of himself feeling touched and entranced by the beauty.

You know that scene in a TV show or anime where the main character is like “of course I don’t have feelings for [other character]!” and then the shot goes to said other character smiling or doing something cute with, like, the bright, glossy filter and then back to the main character staring and then embarrassedly forcing themselves to look away? This is that scene in narrative form. And I love it.

5. Fire Sea, Alfred’s yelling/swearing makes Haplo laugh.

Haplo stared at Alfred in blank astonishment. Then the Patryn’s lips started to twitch. He tried to control himself, but he, too, was tired. He began to laugh. He laughed until he was forced to lean against the rock wall to support himself, laughed until he tears crept from beneath his eyes. Dabbing at blood seeping from a cut forehead, Haplo grinned, shook his head. “That’s the first time I ever heard you swear, Sar--” He paused. “Alfred,” he amended.

What is there to say, really? Haplo finds Alfred swearing and yelling as funny as I do, and probably also just as endearing. The fact that this scene takes place in the middle of them all super stressed and trying not to die makes it even better, as does the fact that this is all spurred on by Alfred saving Haplo’s life and Haplo being irritated at the thought of owing his life to Alfred again. Seeing Haplo's sudden flip from talking to Alfred like his enemy to talking to him like his friend, and using his name sincerely for the first time since finding out he’s a Sartan is also fantastic.

4. Fire Sea, Haplo lets Alfred go.

“You know what’ll happen to you in the Nexus.” Haplo didn’t look at him when he spoke, he kept his gaze on the dog. “You know what my Lord will do to you.” “Yes,” Alfred answered. Haplo hesitated a moment, either deciding on his next words or deciding whether or not to say them. When he made his decision, his voice was hard and sharp, cutting through some barrier within himself. “Then, if I were you, I wouldn’t be around when I woke up.” Haplo closed his eyes. Alfred stared in amazement, then smiled gently. “I understand. Thank you, Haplo.”

On some level, maybe this shouldn’t be ranked as high as it is, because I highly doubt that this is exactly specific to Alfred. By this point, we know that Haplo is reluctant to see anyone else get punished, hurt, or killed that doesn’t deserve it. But it gets up to fourth because this is the scene that really hammers in just how much has changed about Haplo’s feelings, and his feelings towards Alfred specifically, in the span of just one book; he doesn’t believe Alfred deserves to be punished for being a Sartan, anymore. That’s... pretty big. And it all just goes to show how much Haplo’s character arc as a whole is connected to Alfred’s influence on him and his influence on Alfred.

3. Seventh Gate, Haplo trusts Alfred

Alfred looked pained. “You don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. I know that in the past I’ve let you down, but, truly, I’m strong now. I am–” “I know you are,” Haplo said. “I trust you. I want you to trust me.”

Just a short moment, here, but all the more impactful as the context is Alfred volunteering to possibly sacrifice himself to close Death’s Gate, trying to convince Haplo to leave him to avoid danger, and Haplo vowing to stay behind to protect Alfred, potentially risking his own life, in the process. Not only is Haplo agreeing to risk his life for Alfred’s sake, here, he’s agreeing to do it knowing Xar is literally right there with them and he WILL have to fight Xar. And, of course, he reassures Alfred that he does trust him, and that he knows that he’s become strong, now!

2. Seventh Gate, Goodbyes and the hug.

"Farewell, my friend,” he said. “Thank you for bringing me back to life. Haplo took Alfred’s hand, then embraced the startled and embarrassed Sartan. “Thank you,” Haplo said, his voice gruff, “for giving me life. Farewell, my friend.” Alfred was extremely red. He patted Haplo’s back awkwardly, then turned away, wiping his eyes and nose with his coat sleeve.

I know we’ve been talking about this quote a lot recently, but like. Just look at it. How Alfred goes for the handshake and Haplo takes it and then is like “wait a minute, heck no, we might die here and I’M GONNA HUG YOU, DAMMIT.”

And bonus points for “Thank you for giving me life,” which is not only a parallel to the thank you Alfred’s already given him, but also a HUGE fuck-you to Xar, who he KNOWS is STANDING RIGHT THERE, considering Xar’s whole “I gave you life so I can take it” mentality. We don’t talk about it enough, but. What a goddamn power move. 

1. Into the Labyrinth, Alfred brings Haplo to the Vortex

Then strong arms caught him, held him. A voice spoke to him, soothed him. All pain vanished. He rested, drifting on the water’s surface, at peace with himself. The voice called again. He opened his eyes, looked up and saw… Alfred.

This is... just. I mean, look at that. A paragraph like that wouldn’t be all that out of place in a straight up romance novel. I mean. Strong arms holding him... his voice soothing him and erasing his pain... the sense of peace... the dramatic ellipses before Alfred’s name... I honestly don’t know how to talk about this paragraph without just rewriting it, because seriously, look at it. Haplo the sentimental poet strikes again.

If there’s any reason that this shouldn’t be the number 1 quote it’s that this line of pureness finishes the chapter and then sends us back to Pryan’s heterosexual nonsense for multiple chapters, which is quite frankly an act of pure homophobia.

Just kidding, obviously, but like... wow.

Anyway thank you for reading my list, Happy Valentine’s Day y’all.

[theconservativebrief]

Of all the figures in the American cultural pantheon, there are few who have had a broader cultural impact than Leonard Bernstein — composer, conductor, performer, queer and Jewish icon, and genius.

As today’s Google Doodle celebrates Bernstein’s 100th birthday, you might be tempted to whip out your copy of West Side Story and indulge in a reminiscence of “Somewhere” or “Tonight” or “Cool,” or any of the other brilliant songs that have made the Bernstein-Sondheim masterpiece such an enduring part of our modern musical lexicon.

But let us suggest a different approach to celebrating Bernstein’s birthday. Though it may be tempting to stop at West Side Story, if you did, you’d be missing out on a wealth of gorgeous music from the man who churned out hundreds of works before his death in 1990. Bernstein’s complete oeuvre is massive, spawning everything from Broadway musicals to jazz singles to symphonies and ballets.

Here are five seminal works by Bernstein that you shouldn’t miss if you want to understand what made him America’s greatest composer.

Bernstein’s grand comedic opera often crosses streams with musical theater. After all, it looks and sounds like opera, but it’s an adaptation of Voltaire’s famously dry satire on human nature, which isn’t the typical opera fare. Plus, it’s got lyrical input from plenty of musical theatre veterans, including Stephen Sondheim. And as for the music, its rambunctious opening overture is almost more famous than the opera itself. Here’s Bernstein himself conducting it:

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But if you want evidence that Candide is as pure as opera gets, look no further than its showstopper “Glitter and Be Gay,” a seven-minute diva fantasy that sees sopranos belting out high E-flats against a raucous orchestra and a tongue-in-cheek narrative about the benefits of becoming a concubine. But don’t take our word for it — let Kristin Chenoweth explain:

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Most people know On the Town through the jaunty Gene Kelly/Fred Astaire movie, which serves as a suitable vehicle for its most famous numbers — particularly “New York, New York.”

But if you only watch the movie, you’ll miss much of the beautifully intricate instrumental music that Bernstein deploys throughout this intense dance musical. Bernstein, whose music at all times sounds as if it were unearthed from the city itself (even down to the trains that sing “Somewhere”), has rarely sounded more like the city than he does in this story of sailors who come to New York for a 24-hour adventure.

The show is dripping with lively musical comedy thanks to legendary lyricists Betty Comden and Adolph Green, Bernstein’s frequent Broadway collaborators. But it’s also full of beautiful music, and the purest example is in its stunning, exhilarating, breathtaking “pas de deux.” Building off the themes of the plaintive love ballad “Lonely Town,” Bernstein transforms this ballet into a pure, utterly exquisite musical expression all by itself. Here he is conducting it with his home orchestra, the New York Philharmonic. If you listen to nothing else from our humble list, find a quiet place, turn up your speakers, and listen to this:

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Written in 1965 for a festival at Chichester Cathedral, Bernstein’s piece for choir and boy soloist is one of the few works in the classical music canon to be written in Hebrew. Though it’s one of the most famous choral works around, it’s rarely performed because, as you’ll instantly hear, it’s freaking difficult — which of course just makes it all the more exciting.

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If you hadn’t already gathered this from the fact that Bernstein wrote a choral piece for an Anglican church and set it in Hebrew, his views on religion were complicated and contentious. Nowhere is that more evident than in his scandalous, shocking, and beautiful Mass. Featuring lyrics by musical theater icon Stephen Schwartz, fresh off creating Godspell, Mass is both a savage attack on religious hypocrisy and an attempt to unify religious discord through faith.

Mass is staged as a traditional Catholic Mass, with the main singer occupying the role of a Catholic priest. Yet over the course of the work, doubt creeps into the ritual, both musically and textually, and the structure of the Mass completely falls apart and disintegrates as the celebrant comes to terms with his own crumbling faith and moral emptiness. At the climax, the priest destroys the altar in an act of horrifying sacrilege. And then, in the wake of the destroyed ceremony, Bernstein gives us this pure moment of religious hope and faith to renew us — “A Simple Song”:

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There are many other choices we could have gone with here: Bernstein’s first symphony (Jeremiah) or his third symphony, (Kaddish), which, like Chichester Psalms, both combine classical and Jewish musical traditions; his darkly satirical one-act opera Trouble in Tahiti, with its famous aria “What a movie!”; or perhaps even his two-minute explication of Western musical structure as part of his famous Harvard lecture series “The Unanswered Question.”

But we’re going with his early musical Wonderful Town, again a collaboration with Comden and Green. In many ways a forerunner of On the Town, this is another dance musical about life in vintage New York, this time told from the perspective of two sisters living in the Village. Though it’s rarely performed and inevitably dated, Bernstein’s score for Wonderful Town is as fresh and vibrant as anything he wrote afterward — and nowhere do we see that more than in its most endearing and enduring song, “A Little Bit In Love.” Please enjoy Cynthia Erivo bringing this list home — because it’s Saturday and Leonard Bernstein would want you to have nice things.

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Original Source -> Beyond West Side Story: 5 of Leonard Bernstein’s musical masterpieces

via The Conservative Brief